#it was sort of cool in the dream because all the birds actually had plenty of space and everything was very clean But god can you imagine

[pennaraptor]

i had a dream that i got a job at this like. Massive pet bird store (it was like mall-sized but they just had parrots?? nightmarish concept) and greer @pangur-and-grim was there too as a bird trainer which makes absolutely zero sense since they are not in any way a parrot person

#it was sort of cool in the dream because all the birds actually had plenty of space and everything was very clean But god can you imagine #a place like that #man. #text post

[pa-panda-heroes]

blue hour.

demon!au!dabi x reader nsfw; find the sequel here

Inspired (sorta) by this post. This was initially a 400 followers celebration fic but took so long I got to 500, plus it’s Halloween!! 🎃🎃🎃

i listened to Mothica’s song Blue Hour while i wrote this and honestly fell in love with it. hence the name! please go give her a listen!

Minors, go away. This content is not for you.

Warnings: brief description of kidnapping, tiny mentions of religion (nonspecified tho!) and human sacrifice, injury + blood mention, foul language, brief cremation, Dabi being horny (hehe), Dabi absolutely 100% not using magic on you nope, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, biting, dirty talk, degradation?, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification if you squint?

Words: 14k+

Summary: Kidnapped and held as an offering to an ominous demon, you thought your death was near. Soon enough you find your captor dead and the demon you were offered to becomes your savior. Dabi clearly has plans for you, but what are they? Or was everything just a dream?

Your heartbeat thrummed within your ears, sweat sweltering and becoming a thick layer on your skin all over, making the fabric of your clothes cling to it ever-so-uncomfortably. It felt like you were being smothered from head to toe in fabric. The cooled blood that began just above your temple and trickled all the way down your face and neck had dried by now, acting as a crusty reminder of the reason behind the throbbing in your head. Trees swayed in the chilly winds that passed, making the cool air even colder - yet here you were, sweating like there was no tomorrow. You were bound by the wrists and ankles to a musty wooden pole in a forest you’d never seen before, the sky dark yet bright for the blue moon. The stars looked so free, so beautiful, so serene tonight. Yet you didn’t feel it.

Your breathing was quick, panicked, and hurried to the extent that you’d take in more oxygen by breathing less. Your poor, puffy lip was numb from having been chewed on so much, to the point where you couldn’t remember whether you were a chronic lip biter or not; but you sure were, now. That is, until he gagged you by tying an old handkerchief around your face. You struggled against your scratchy, dry restraints so much, they began to dig into your skin and bleed, sending a trail of blood down your arms and a jolt of burning, throbbing, stinging pain through your nerves.

You were far from alone.  

The only other human body you knew of was the one who put you in the position you currently find yourself in after a night of dancing, booze, and sweat. The inebriation from the alcohol made you an easy target, you guessed. God damn it all.

The night began with your celebrating a friend’s birthday at a club, drinking, dancing, and making merry. You had regretted agreeing to go at first after having a long, agonizingly tiring day at work, which gave you the burning desire to wrap up after a bath and lay in bed until the next day when you’d have to get up again. But as the night progressed, you were glad you tagged along; after all, it was an unexpectedly nice release after a bad day.  

Now you were regretting it again.

If only you hadn’t gone to the club.  

If only hadn’t agreed even if begrudgingly to go.

If only you hadn’t left your apartment.  

You made the mistake of trying to find a bathroom on your own and ended up in an alleyway. The last thing you saw was a filthy dumpster before it all went black, and upon waking you found yourself bound in this horrifying forest.

Around you was a circular dirt clearing bordered with a solid line and filled with various marks made upon it, ones that you’d never seen before. They looked to be of a lost, long-dead language - the language your masked captor was evidently speaking as he sat on his knees with his hands in the air before a makeshift altar of a sort. There was some distance between him and the altar, probably about two meters, that being the same distance he sat from you as you watched in horror.  

He was going to kill you, but not before torturing you - or other things. For some hideous purposes that looked a lot to do with a demon or something. All because you were a virgin that just so happened to cross his path.

You tried making noises, tried screaming, but it made no difference. He wouldn’t stop his hideous chanting and no one could hear you anyway. The thick forest swallowed your every scream and the gag held back your every cry. More tears run down your cheeks at your predicament, your struggling against your binds only digging into and stinging your skin as piping hot blood continued to trail down your tender wrists and ankles. It felt like frostbite was setting in. Was it actually, or was it your nerves? 

A pillar of black smoke began to rise from the ground in front of your masked captor, who then bowed with his forehead to the ground. Your own heart was beating in your ears so quickly you thought it would explode any minute. If only it would - you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer. 

“What... the hell do you want?” you hear a voice boom, distorted in such a way that made it sound like it echoed a thousand times. “Filthy human.” 

“Your favor, my lord. I offer you this virgin.”

You try screaming again, your throat beginning to feel scratchy and dry. It almost felt like it was bleeding. Could it be bleeding? Your mind was almost a haze, now. 

You can see a form emerge from the ground where the black smoke stands, and you’re stunned and scared into total silence as you see the silhouette of two large wings and a pointed tail. Other than that, the silhouette appears mostly human. But it’s not.

“My favor, eh?” you hear the voice again. The silhouette swings his arm and with it vanishes the smoke, and the reality that this... thing isn’t human finally settles in your heart. His hair is black and spiky, there are pieces of what look to be burnt flesh under his minty eyes and the lower half of his face, bound to the unblemished skin by silvery staples that seemed to spit steam. Three dotted piercings adorned his nose, and plenty more his ears. His wings reminded you of a bird’s with feathers and all, and they were a flat charcoal in colour, albeit they seemed a little worse for wear and severely burnt. The demon’s horns poked out from each side of his forehead and curled around like that of a ram’s. He wore a dark, simple cloak.  

You almost wondered if he had goat hooves for feet.

He looks down on the human who summoned him, literally and figuratively, it seemed. His eyes narrow viciously at the man, before jolting to you - and you, honest to all that exists, feel what you can only think of as a bolt of lightning course through every nerve - no, cell - of your body before it feels like your heart stops beating. You can feel the blood coursing in your veins, and it’s ice-cold, all of this forcing you to tense every muscle you’re able. He looks away and you’re instantly back to normal, slouching in your restraints.  

“Is this asshole bothering you, little one?” the voice of what’s clearly a demon rings.

“I-I beg your pardon, m’lord Dabi?” 

“Shut your trap, moron.” Clusters of the brightest, bluest flames you’d ever seen erupt above each of the demon’s eyes and he leans downward to grab the man by his neck, before easily lifting him in the air as the human choked. “Y’know, back in the day, sacrifices in some cultures were an honor. It was seen as a gift, a way to serve ancient -  nonexistent, mind you -  gods. People vied to become a sacrificial lamb. I’m ancient, too, you know that.”

The human man stammers and stutters, trying to say something coherent but failing out of fear.  

Dabi lets the man rest his feet on the ground as he jerks your captor to look at you, and you want to just shrink into yourself. “What the fuck is that, huh? Do you see the fear in her eyes? The bruises covering her body? The blood seeping down her arms as she fights against that rope? Does that look like a willing sacrifice to you? Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think she is willing at all.”

You blink. What? How? Why?

“You piss me off.”

Dabi throws the masked man to the ground away from him, then raising his palm into the air and summoning flames to filter out of the ground. They swallow him hole, and whilst he’s screaming in agony and burning alive, the demon turns on his heel and saunters your way. “Well, this is quite a mess, eh, dear?” His eyebrows are pointed upward, almost as if the gentle tone behind his words is sincere, yet almost as if there is deviance behind them.

You can’t help but gulp at the look in his eyes. Smile and arch his brows as he might, he was still clearly a demon unfitting of your trust. Right? He was going to hurt you. Surely.

His hands reach up for your face and you shut your eyes tight and turn away.

Much to your surprise, fingers work away at the handkerchief splitting open your poor, stretched, and saliva-coated lips, and you nearly gasp at the relief of pressure on them, the ache in your cheeks quite apparent and downright agonizing. Not only that, but the corners of your mouth were rubbed raw, and you weren’t sure if there was saliva mixing with more saliva, or blood mixing with saliva at the site. Dabi drags a finger from the corner of your mouth up to your cheek to wipe away the tears staining your skin, and you have no strength to fight the shiver that runs up your spine as your eyes fall half-lidded.

“Fuck me, you’re lookin’ a bit worse for wear, little one,” you hear him coo. “Easy, babe. You’re alright. That ugly, scary man’s all gone.” He seems to chuckle at the irony, before a toothy smirk splits his lips. His teeth are sharp, certainly enough to puncture skin without much effort, and you shiver again.

You’re quickly relieved of your bounds, but with the little strength you have left, you’re not able to stand on your own and collapse into his chest, spent and sore. He’s warm. It’s... nice. Fuzzy. Cloudy. Soft. Where are you, again? What’s going on? Why is everything spinning?

Everything fades to black.

:·•·:

You groan and turn over in your bed, pulling the fluffy covers up closer to your head as your body ached. You were warm and settled in, nothing could make you leave the comforts of your bed, yet you knew you needed to. To explain the achy joints, you tried reminiscing the night before. You remembered that night. Parts of it, anyway. When you tried to remember the feeling of being bound or the blood trickling down your wrists, nothing came up. When you tried remembering the chanting of your captor - nothing. It seemed that any parts which could be deemed... unsavory were gone from your memory. You brought your wrists up and felt around them and-

Also gone were any wounds.

It was odd. You could remember it all happening, but at the same time, you couldn’t. Must’ve been some whacked out dream induced by the alcohol.

You had no want to, but you sat up in bed and reached over to your nightstand to switch he clock around so you could see it. It read about half an hour after midday, and you sighed. How long were you asleep? You picked up your phone from the nightstand and switched it on, your heart leaping into your throat at the amount of notifications. Texts, emails, calls, there were dozens upon dozens of them.

“How long was I asleep?!” you shriek.

“Enough to nearly get evicted.”

Your head jolts up so quickly you hear your neck crack, and you see the demon leaning against the wall in front of your bed. You can’t help but gasp and scoot away, your back banging against the headboard of your bed. It wasn’t a dream.

He waves his hand lazily. “But don’t worry, I got it covered. Congrats, you have free rent for life, now.” His wings, horns, and tail are all gone, and he almost looks human, save for the staples and scars. You guess he can’t change his appearance much. Perhaps he doesn’t want to.

The teeth showing off from his smirk look just as sharp as before, however.

Your eyes are drawn to the huggies piercing the cartilage of his ears. They’re as shiny and plentiful as you remember. Your heart rate spikes, and you begin to breathe heavily.

“That soreness is probably from you bein’ out so long, sweets,” he comments, arms crossed in front of his chest, his right ankle also crossed over his left. His voice is smooth and a clear attempt at comforting you - yet there’s something behind it.

“Th-thank you. For saving me, and... the rent... I guess.” You hoped he would leave if you thanked him. Why else would he stick around?

He only shrugs, though. “Sorry, little one, but you’re not special. That sacrifice wasn’t done right in the first place.”

‘Ouch!’

Ah, you remembered that, now. But you couldn’t remember his name.

“What’s your name?” you ask hesitantly. He’s obviously not going to kill you by now. Why would he stick around?

“Dabi.”

“That’s it?” You tilt your head. You were surprised at how... nonchalant you were beginning to feel about this. The longer he stood there, the more it felt normal.

“That’s it, dollface.”

:·•·:

He ended up not having goat hooves for feet.

You knew there was a catch to being saved by that demonic bastard.

Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t leave you alone, keeping a demon cooped up in your apartment wasn’t easy. It especially wasn’t easy when said demon was constantly on your heels, pressed right up against your back. Personal space was not in his vocabulary. Dabi was constantly up to something, and he loved to harass or scare your neighbors with his devilish form; it was just too easy. “What else have I got to do while you’re gone all day?” he’d say. “Gotta entertain myself, somehow, doll.”

Apparently, it had been a long time since someone had summoned him at all, let alone with an offering of some kind. He hadn’t seen the mortal realm in hundreds of years, and because you were offered to him, he decided to stick around you. You only agreed to it as long as he never left your apartment.

Well, technically. He wasn’t actually giving you a choice, he was going to stick around anyway. Dabi so loved giving innocent mortals the impression that they were in control when they never truly were. The demon practically got off on the idea of giving a helpless little thing like you a false sense of security.

Having him essentially stuck to your hip, you couldn’t let him cause any trouble with the human world, be it harmless pranks or downright murder; hence why you left a line of salt in front of every opening to your place one day, to keep him home. He was a curious demon, a sketchy one.

And a bit of a horny one, at that.

If the groping or peeking in on your showers wasn’t enough of a clue, the fact that he did everything else in his power to seduce you certainly was.

Demons don’t sleep. They’re immortal, they don’t need to. Yet, as you lay snuggled up in your bed at night, he always snuck in with you to poke and prod at you, the exchange usually ending with you kicking him out of bed - sometimes literally. Other times, he’d randomly lean into your ear and say the filthiest things you’d ever heard - and then some, obviously - to get a rise out of you, giving him the opportunity to tease you about unconsciously clenching your thighs, whether it was for friction or out of denial.

You were starting to think he was a damn incubus.

But no, he denied that. He looked almost insulted when you made the insinuation before explaining that incubi and succubi are one and the same, changing back and forth between male and female. First as a succubus, the demon collects... “seed,” and then transforms into an incubus to “plant” it. He could change his physical appearance if he so wished, but he never had much want or need to, save for hiding away or using his devilish form; nor could he procreate, he was so proud to tell you.

It seemed the fact that you were a virgin only spurred him on to seduce you. With Dabi being the vile and damned being that he is, you thought he wouldn’t give a damn (ha) if you consented or not at first. The thought was honestly horrifying. Yet not once had he forced you or went too far. It was “poor taste,” he once said, there being no fun in it. You wondered if his rule of consenting sacrifices played a part in his discipline.

And of course, Dabi would go on about how badly he, a demon, an unsavory being to say the least, wanted to be the one to take your virginity and “defile” you, “the pure, innocent treat that you are.”

Defile? Really?

And treat?

‘Pick better wording next time you sex-starved, pointy-tail-having, staple-wearing, horned son of a bitch,’ you thought sarcastically, shoving dishes into their proper places after having dried them. He’d left you alone for most of the day, talking to you and treating you like he was a normal human being. ‘Then, maybe I’d consider letting you get your dick wet.’

Would you, though?

Nah...

Right.

One of the plates was a little wet still, and managed to slip out of your hand and shatter on the counter in front of you. You yelped when a shard cut into your palm after you’d instinctively reached to catch the plate, failing miserably. “Dammit,” you mutter, holding your left hand up to inspect the cut. From the looks of it, no stitches were needed, but it still stung like hell.

You should’ve known better than to think he cooled his jets for the day, because in an instant he’s standing next to your left side and reaching for your wrist.

“It’s fine, just a tiny cut,” you mutter, quirking a brow as he seemingly glares at the wound. “I think I’ve got a first-aid kit somewhere... Have to keep it clean, at least.”

“Nah, don’t need it,” he mutters, before pulling your hand toward his mouth. His tongue slithers out from between his lips and drags along the cut in your palm, the wet appendage searing against your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation, and yet another soars when you see the hungry, predatory look in his eyes, which are fixed on your wound. You can’t help the gulp that sounds from your tight throat, or the yelp that fights out of your lips when his whole mouth latches onto the fatty part of your thumb where the cut is. Your knees begin to feel weak and your eyes fall half-lidded.

Dabi sucks on the flesh there, licking the wound occasionally as well. His eyes then flicker to yours, and they burn into you like no other ever has. You feel the heat of a blush trail up your neck and to your cheeks and ears, your heart thrumming in your chest and lips slowly falling open just a tad as he licks away at the opening in your skin.

“Ah-“

The demon pulls away with a pop from one final suck of your flesh, whilst a trail of his saliva - do demons have saliva?! - hung between your hand and his mouth. “See? Take a look.” He pushes your hand towards your view, and amidst the clear wetness on your skin, you see no wound at all.

Your mind flips back to the wounds you should have had from that night.

“Back then... did you... y’know...”

“Naah. There’s spells and the like for bigger stuff like that,” he explains nonchalantly with a shrug. He almost seems proud of himself with his next line. “Tiny paper cuts like this can be taken care of with good ol’ fashioned demon spit. It’s nice, huh?”

You deadpan at him. “No, it’s totally gross.”

Dabi chuckles at you, waving a hand as if to wave you off. “Admit it. Your virgin ass enjoyed it.” His words are crass, but you know he’s only teasing and they’re not meant to insult.

Yet it still riles you up.

That heat crawls up your neck again, and you huff at him. “Shut up!” you gripe, then turning away from him to at least try to clean up the dish shards. There was nothing wrong with being a virgin! A lot of people wait for the right person, or they just aren’t ready. People have their reasons, and there’s no shame in it! Just like there’s no shame in being the opposite. As long as it’s healthy, that’s all that matters!

“Jerk! You seem to forget whose apartment you’re squatting in!” you grumble, scooting the pieces of the plate you broke together - ever so gently - with a washcloth from the sink. “I could kick you out, y’know.” You forgot for a short moment that he managed to achieve free rent for life for you, but you told yourself it wouldn’t matter anyway. It was still your apartment, after all.

“Really, now?” The demon scoffs, then leaning against the counter and crossing his arms - clearly at you. “How would you go about that, little mouse?” His tone is unconvinced and sultry, the look on his face painted with doubt.

You avoided eye contact with him and perused the kitchen for a plastic bag before marching back to the mess of plate shards and trying to sweep them off the counter and into the bag. “I’d exorcise you,” you mutter. Finding a priest in this area would prove difficult, but you could manage to find one willing to travel. You could do it if needed.

Dabi only laughs you off, though. The sound is smooth and velvety, yet you’re left to describe it as littered with smoke and ecstasy. “C’mon, doll! That wouldn’t work,” he says finally. “Besides, we both know you don’t wanna do that. You like havin’ my sorry ass around too much, eh?”

“Ha! You’re right about you being a sorry ass,” you sass with a huff before tossing the bag into the waste-bin.

Oddly enough, while you’d never tell Dabi this and end up stroking his already massive ego, you felt safer with him around. It was hard to pinpoint why. Nothing had happened for him to be called to protect you; however, you lived in a less than savory part of town, which wasn’t entirely unbearable, but shit still happens. And you’ve already been abducted once, leading to your acquaintance with this horny (I’m more ways than one) asshole. Maybe it was because you knew part of what he can do, all that aside. Push comes to shove, he’d protect you, right?

That was a nice thought to have, if a bit naive, you thought.

He was a demon, not a guardian angel of some sort. He had no obligations to you.

Yet here he was, still living with you over a month after that awful night.

Your thoughts are completely swept away when you’re pushed by the hips against the counter with your back to it, your hands instinctively bracing the edge on each side of your hips for support. The demon’s face is immediately in front of yours, his breath easily filling your nostrils with an ashen smell. You see those horns of his again and have to fight the urge to reach up and grab one, maybe even give it a tug. He’d probably cremate you for it.

Could he hear your thoughts? Previous instances somewhat insinuated that he could, but he never admitted to it - or denied it.

Dabi was right. You don’t want to get rid of him. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that. There is an intensity in those half-lidded, fiery eyes of his that has never before been directed at you by anyone, and it leaves you wishing you could read his thoughts. Are his eyes merely looking at your own, or are they bearing into your soul, calculating and appraising it?

What you can tell is that it’s full of impatience and want. Greed. Lust. And so much of it all.

You tilt your chin down a bit and look up at him with a gulp quietly. You can’t think of anything to say, and tension builds within your chest as you search; you feel as if that silence ought to be filled, yet here you are, at a loss for words as you stare at your own reflection in his glossy eyes. On the other hand, he seems totally content letting you lie in it, letting you squirm for him as he smirks.

And so you look away, bringing your hands to your chest and holding them there bashfully. The sleeves of your sweater are soft and warm and plush - just how Dabi would describe you right now.

This maneuver of yours not being what he wanted, Dabi scowls a bit and grabs your chin to essentially force you to look at him, his thumb ghosting over the softness of your lower lip. He tilts his head at you almost curiously, perhaps evaluating your reaction as it’s been so long since he has seen or felt the mortal world. Those eyes narrow at you, though not out of ire. Dabi’s thumb pokes at the crevice between your lips, and the rest of his fingers on your jaw tug downward.

Confused, you comply anyway and part your lips for him, only for his thumb to invade your mouth and press hard on your tongue, coaxing you to gag and instinctively grasp both hands on his wrist. You attempt to pull it away, to relieve the pressure in your mouth, but he doesn’t want that.

Hell, in reality, neither do you. You just don’t feel like gagging and clouding your vision with tears.

Aw, you poor dear.

With a contemplative hum he pulls his appendage out of your mouth and holds it not far from your mouth, as if planning another venture into your wet cavern. You can’t help but stare at the string of saliva still connecting your lips and his hand as it glistens in the low lighting of your kitchenette.

“Open back up for me,” he huskily demands, but it’s not cruel and dictating, so you comply, entranced as if under a spell. But you know you’re not. This time, it’s his forefinger and middle finger that roam between your teeth, and as if he had told you to do so telepathically, you close your lips around them. With an innocent, doll-eyed look, you suck his fingers and lick at them with your tongue, earning yourself hushed praises and a searing trail of touches up your ribcage and back down. You continue to lick away, occasionally wrapping your tongue around his digits or cradling them as you suck on them, coating them in your saliva as some of it trails out one of the corners of your mouth. They feel cold, as if there was a lack of circulation, and it only spurs you on to warm them with the toasty cavern of your mouth and soft plushness of your tongue.

You’re sure you’re less than apt at this, but the praise and touch you’re receiving helps you feel less... off.

Dabi leans in for your ear, his hot breath against your cartilage sending a chill down your spine before his wet tongue laps at it, and you jump in your skin at the burning, completely unknown sensation. It’s so hot it almost stings, but it’s not painful; tingly, maybe. In the process you lean away to your left a bit, at which he seems to pause. But then you lean back as if to tell him to go on, and you can nearly hear the simper he gives just before he latches onto your ear, licking and nibbling away as you tremble and whimper around his fingers. The heat at your core throbs in tandem with your racing heartbeat, creating a melody of your arousal that you hoped only you could witness.

But you knew better than to doubt the senses of a demon.

“You’re doin’ good, doll,” he breathes into your ear, aggravating the sound of blood flushing through your ears and the thump of your heartbeat. “Such a good girl for me...”

The digits in your mouth get a little adventurous and explore your wet cavern a bit, but they’re quick to push down on your tongue again and you gag around them. Tears start to pool within your eyelids and your whimper is stuck in your throat.

The demon then unceremoniously pulls his fingers from your mouth to reach down at the hem of your sweater and yank it up over the swell of your chest, leaving your torso and bra-covered breasts bare. Dabi seems to drink up the sight of you as if it were a sweet wine he hadn’t indulged in for centuries. Both his hands then trail ghostly fingers - really, they felt like spiders - up your belly and to your sternum. You shiver and a mewl fights out of your throat unexpectedly, your back arching unintentionally toward him as you clutch onto his forearms. Dabi lets out a hot breath, just thereafter his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your bra as he grinds his pelvis against yours, the outline of his hardened cock clear as day against you. You don’t even try to fight back the moan it elicits as your head droops back at the stimulation.

Why bother, right?

The inhuman entity before you takes the opportunity to use your open mouth, his own latching into yours and tongue exploring your mouth in a battle for dominance you have absolutely no hope to win as he makes a mushy mess of you. You accidentally lacerate your tongue on the sharp point of one of Dabi’s teeth and flinch a bit, the sting on your tongue nearly coaxing you to pull away while the taste of iron floods your mouths. That tase you could certainly live without only encourages him, as Dabi growls and grips the base of your neck to hold your head in place as he quite metaphorically devours your tongue with his own, before his teeth latch onto your lower lip and you squeak in surprise as he pulls away.

“Aw, what’s’a matter, little mouse?” Dabi taunts, left palm dropping to rub against your clothed sex.

“Ah, Dabi-!” You jolt at the sudden stimulation on your clit and breathe in hard. Even if there are a couple layers keeping his bare hand from touching you, if feels damn good to have someone else touch you like this. Ripples of warmth flood through you and you feel your body temperature rocketing. Your own breath feels as though it’s on fire as it leaves your heavily salivated mouth and bloody lips in rabid succession, alongside your increasingly rapid heartbeat. Your grip on his firm arms tightens and you resist the urge to grind against him as he continues his ministrations. “Fuck...”  Your lips throbbed, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the tiny wounds he created or your blood pressure spiking.

“Hm?” The demon hums, inquisitive and high in pitch - yet maybe condescending. “‘Fuck,’ huh?” His grip on the back of your neck relaxes only slightly before his tongue pokes out of his mouth and drags along your lower lip, lapping away at the blood pooling there and drawing a slight whine from you. “What about it? You sayin’ you want me to fuck you, doll? Tell me.”

Blood rushes to your face like there was a race and your eyes wander from his bashfully, instead choosing to look at the horns cutting through his spiky black hair. He’s right, you do, you have to admit it. But admitting it out loud was embarrassing! With a gulp you elect to simply nod, but his brows furrow and he’s clearly unimpressed considering the animalistic growl that claws out of his throat.

“Hey, I’ve been locked away from you humans for so long, y’know,” he breathes, his voice dark and low. “I’m a bit behind on gestures. You have to tell me.” This time, you can tell by the almost playful tone of his voice that he’s really lying and just trying to make you admit it aloud. Dabi’s palm leaves you before moving up to the waistband of your jeans while his other hand snakes up your neck and latches onto a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, say it. Where’s all that spunk from earlier? You’re all bark and no bite, little one.”

“Y-yes, Dabi. I... I want you to fuck me.” You finally meet his eyes again, and the hunger in them from before hasn’t faded at all; it’s only deepened. What else has changed was the hunger and arousal in your own eyes.

That smirk appears again and Dabi leans into your ear. “You want me to fuck you,” he parrots, “do you? You want my demon cock to take your virginity and fill you up? You want me to fuck you against this counter until your voice gives out? You’re a slut after all, little one. Beg like one, then.”

Your thighs clench together and you gulp. This was... not how you fantasized your first time to carry out. “Demon cock” was not something you’d ever thought you would hear someone say.

But who cares? Not you.

“Yes, please. Please!” You tug at his jacket in an attempt to coax him toward you, your knuckles turning white from your grip. “Please, fuck me with your demon cock...” Your this time voice is less loud and demanding, albeit it’s more desperate and pleading. “Please.” Your voice breaks this time.

Nor was it something you thought you would ever say.

A groan rumbles from Dabi’s chest. “Good little human. Keep it up, yeah?”

You squeak as he roughly yanks your sweater over your head before working to unbutton your jeans, his lips and teeth savoring your neck all the while. Your head cranes back again, a mute gasp leaving you at the sensation of his searing tongue on your recently sweat-slicked neck as his fingers work to remove your bra before they move onto yanking your panties down. At least, you thought he yanked them down, but a quick glance to the floor revealed he ripped them off, rendering them unusable.

“I liked those!” you whine, still panting.

“Tough luck. I didn’t.” It’s not like you need to wear panties around him anyway. He’d burn every pair you owned to mere ashes if it meant getting you to waltz around your apartment with no panties. They just got in the way.

“Daabi! Why would you-

“Oh god!”

You jump and thrust against Dabi’s hand when his fingers run through the slick of your soaked cunt, your breathing ragged, while he gathers the slick abundant there and edges toward your clit. His tactic coaxes ripples of pleasure that lull a low moan out of you.

“Ha,” he scoffs in your ear, “no gods have anything to do with it, babydoll.”

Dabi’s fingers finally work their way to your clit and circle around it a few times before rubbing in a steady rhythm around it. You moan at the combination of the bliss he gives you and the pet name, and your legs instinctively open wider for him as you mewl.

“I’m really not sure you are a virgin, doll,” he starts with a chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ soaked, you know that? Like a slut begging for my dick.”

“D-Dabi!” You flinch at the sinful words he’s spitting at you, embarrassed.

The demon’s digits leave your clit and trail back through your folds, and the wet, lewd sounds that result almost surprise you more than the fact that you want to fuck a demon. You buck your hips in hopes of encouraging his fingers back to your clit, albeit his other hand distracts you with a flick to your nipple, before it rubs circles over the sensitive nub as the rest of his hand palms at your tit.

“Ah, feels so good,” you find yourself muttering.

In response his ear seems to twitch. “Speak up.” His lips are sucking and nipping at your neck, either ignoring or enjoying the layer of sweat built up on your skin as the heat coming from his body begins to overwhelm you. Not that you mind either way. He’s definitely leaving a mark here and there as he works around your neck. Not that you mind either way.

“Your fingers... ah, feel so good!” Your head cranes backward, your hands dropping to the counter against your ass for support as your legs begin to feel weak. The shockwaves of pleasure his hands send through your nerves leaves you feeling weak and mushy.

“Good. Now hold still.”

You give a confused look, eyebrows pointed upward before you feel the tip of his digit poke at your weeping hole, eliciting a loud gasp from you when his finger plunges into your pussy with no reserve. You hiss at the sudden intrusion, you walls stretching pleasurably yet painfully as he slowly moves his finger around, letting you adjust. His other hand merely plays with your breast.

Biting your lip, you lean forward and plant your sweaty, flushed forehead on his shoulder. “Hey, it kinda hurts,” you whine.

“Just relax, doll.” Dabi’s voice isn’t as crass as it was before, nor is it entirely soothing. You figure he just doesn’t have it in him to coddle you, being a demon and all that.

You whimper as Dabi ever so slowly thrusts his finger in and out, the mixture of pleasure and pain not at all what you’d expected. When his finger hits a spongy spot, you jolt and moan for him, and he takes the opportunity to take over your mouth again in a wet, hurried kiss with a groan. Dabi swallows any and all sounds that you make, and in the process you feel the hand on your tit move downward to your hip before it swings around and wraps under your thigh to lift your knee up to his hip level. The muscles of your legs tensing and the choked moan in your throat tell him the pain is starting to very slowly fade away. At the realization, he carefully dips another finger into you and you moan, higher in pitch, into his mouth before he pulls away to stare at the sight of his fingers fucking into you for only a short moment. Dabi is then quick to shove his tongue back into your salivating mouth.

The lithe digits within your wet walls pick up pace gradually, giving you time to adjust and not barreling into you. By now there is still a barely-there stretch, and all the pain has essentially faded as the assault on your nerves takes place and you near an orgasm. Your eyes lull shut and your head cranes back, your hips almost thrusting involuntarily on his fingers as his pace keeps increasing and pushing you over the edge.

“I’m- ah, I think I’m...”

Dabi hums as if requesting you repeat yourself or perhaps simply acknowledging your sputtering, but you’re too busy moaning louder and and thrusting into the palm of his hand, to do so, as the coil between your legs tightens. His fingers graze over that same spot as before and you cry out for him, for which his fingers increase their pace even more rapidly and slam into that spot over and over and over again as he groans at the lewd, wet squelching resulting.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum, Dabi, I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it. Cum for me, babydoll.” His voice is much more authoritative and huskier, and as per Dabi’s demand you cry out almost loud enough for your neighbors to hear as your orgasm slams into you like a tsunami of pleasure crashing into your nerves. Your soft, hot walls convulse around his fingers in your release as he uses them to fuck you through your first orgasm of the night, with your hips still thrusting toward him uncontrollably as you go through your high and begin to climb down, panting.

Your head feels light in the best way possible and your legs are weak, so you whine lowly as he pulls his fingers from your heat with a pleased sigh. The second your legs give out, he catches you by the ribs before grabbing your trembling hips and lifting you onto the counter, with you latching onto him and holding tight all the while, your forehead on his shoulder and arms around his neck while your legs wrap around his hips.

Dabi drags the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, sending a jolt of calming, electric waves up your spinal cord as he repeatedly kisses your hair and ear on the side accessible to him.

“Atta girl,” he mutters into your hair.

Do you... thank him? He’s giving you a compliment, after all, right? Do you nod? Do you hum? You have the energy to do all three, but what response does he expect of you?

“I didn’t... do anything,” you mutter quietly, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Technically. Doesn’t matter because you will, soon.” He leans into your ear like he’s so fond of doing, his lips grazing your earlobe. “We’re not done, doll.”

Your legs twitch around him unconsciously, eliciting a deep, amused chuckle from the demon.

You see pointed pearly whites bear at you before he lifts you off the countertop and plops you down in front of him. Dabi’s hand squeezes your ass cheek, said hand then spinning you around to put your back to his chest. Searing breath on the back of your ear makes it twitch. “You’re wet and all, doll, but I’m not sure you’re wet enough,” he taunts, his hands splaying out on your abdomen and gently roaming around, fingers spread wide as they adore your body.

“For what?” Dabi’s chest against your back prevents you from turning around and giving him a confused look.

“My cock. What else?” he jabs.

Your curt reply is totally cut off and forgotten when you feel a wet tongue singe the side of your neck toward the back, and you gasp shakily.

“What to do, what to do...?” you hear Dabi whisper into your now-pebbled skin, his hands ghosting down toward your thighs.

“Oh.”

Remaining silent yourself, you could feel the damn lightbulb light up in the bastard’s horned head, but you didn’t know what exactly would entail.

Before you can ask what the hell he was on about, his fingers drove between your glistening  folds and prod around, as if measuring the lewd slick settling there. They quickly pull away after a quick hum from Dabi.

“Be a good little human and bend over, yeah?”

Without a word or thought against it you comply, bending over your countertop and leaning on your elbows a little. You gulp at the thought of your leaking cunt bearing for Dabi. You weren’t sure what he could see from this position, but you were a little embarrassed, nonetheless. With a gulp you shift your weight back and forth on your feet nervously.

Hands rub and palm at your ass cheeks as thumbs rub deeply into your flesh in a symphony of soothing touch. You sigh blissfully and spread your legs for the demon without realizing, but it’s over all too quickly when he instead moves your legs back together. You crane your neck to look at him. “Wha...?”

Wasn’t he going to fuck you from behind?

Suddenly the weeping tip of his cock slips between your thighs, gliding against your dripping cunt and through your folds. There’s no piercing despite his many others, though perhaps that was why he asked you to take him to a parlor not long ago.

Dabi’s cock manages to grace your clit and your body unwillingly jolts a little, still having been sensitive from your previous orgasm. A soft gasp leaves your swollen lips and you hear Dabi growl behind you while he pulls back from your ass end only to jut forward again. Legs beginning to tire out, you unconsciously spread them, only for his hands to push them together roughly.

“Don’t fuckin’ spread ‘em,” he hissed, hips holding still. The fingers on your thighs push deep with force sure to leave bruises while you hiss quietly at the stinging pain they bring to your nerves. But that sensation is quick to fade into something warm and euphoric yet electric and sensitive, causing your head to spin even though he’s not fucking your desperate pussy. He pistons his hips into your ass, and you mewl.

“That’s your last warning, fuck!” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, content with letting him fuck your thighs so long as he keeps grazing your puffy clit like this. His pace quickens and soon enough you hear loud skin slapping against skin, his hips jutting into your ass and balls pattering against the crevice between the soft flesh of your thighs. The quick pace and silkiness of his cock against your clit is euphoric, leaving you to wonder if it would be better than this if he were inside of you. Are you drooling? Your head droops lazily as you revel in pleasure.

The wetness and heat between your legs has increased several-fold, but it’s apparently not enough for Dabi. Your poor body rocks against the counter and your eyes are clenched shut, head fixated on the sensation of his cock grinding against your cunt and between your soft, drenched thighs. You weren’t sure if it was the position or your nerves going haywire, but your legs ached with a dreadful burn.

“D-Daaabi,” you whine pitifully, “my legs... aah, hurt...!”

A hand jumps to your navel and brings you back toward him to allow room for his fingers slithering to your cunt. Before they graze over your clit, they stop. “Cum for me, then,” you hear him command, voice deep and breathy and sending a chill up your spine. “Maybe when you’re done, I’ll take you to the bed and fuck you into the mattress. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya, doll?”

“Yes, b-but,” you suck in a breath when his hand envelops your tit, “‘maybe?’” You parrot the word desperately, your head going blank as you near orgasm.

“Mhm.” You can hear the smirk in it, and the sound of the hum rumbling in his chest is oddly euphoric for you to hear.

You hated having him behind you like this. All you wanted in the moment was to latch onto him and relish in his heat no matter how intense it would be for a mortal like you. You wanted to touch him, to be able to see him, and he was depriving you of it all - very likely on purpose.

Your moans and squeals get higher in pitch and Dabi evidently picks up on your cues, thrusting against your cunt faster and faster until your entire body tenses.

You cry out his name ever so quietly, yet before you can climax he pulls away and leaves you panting and weeping, a whine escaping your throat. “But you told me...!”

“Changed my mind.”

“You’re a jerk!” you half-gripe and half-whine, standing up to glare at him. “I was so... so close, you know! You better make it up to me!” You huff and puff from the intensity of almost cumming.

“You’re awful feisty when I’m not touching you,” he remarks cockily.

You’re going to regret saying what you said. At least, that’s what the look in his eyes tells you when he spins you around. It’s dark and already you shrink in front of him. The next thing you know, Dabi’s pushing you against the counter and mumbling something into you ear, that something being an incantation that sends a trickle of electricity though every nerve of your body. Suddenly you’re cumming hard as heavy waves of pleasure wrack your cunt clenching around nothing rapidly as whatever the demon used on you pushes you through your orgasm, your toes curling and lips shrieking, head falling back so fast it almost slammed into the cabinet if he hadn’t caught it. You don’t register that you had wrapped your arms around his waist until his hands grasp them as if holding you there.

“How’s that for makin’ it up to you, eh?”

With his voice pulling a moan out of you, your poor brain goes foggy and full and it spins within your skull as you pant away, your body feeling heavy. Dabi grabs hold of you and lifts you onto the countertop when it seems like your legs are going to give out. “Hey,” he mutters into your sweaty neck, “don’t tire out on me. I wanna fill that pussy up with my cum ‘til it’s dripping out.”

You feel heat rush from your heaving chest up your neck to your cheeks. “Stop... that! You pervert.”

Dabi chuckles at you. You weren’t prudish, you were inexperienced. “What? Stop what, hm?”

“Talking like... that.”

He only hums, though, and he’s not to comply with your request. “Ya know, if you weren’t a virgin, I’d take your ass, too. Or put you on your knees and shove my cock down your throat until you’re chokin’ on it. Fuck, you’d sound like an angel.” Dabi chuckles at his ironic comparison, seemingly proud of himself for it.

You shrink in front of him and shiver, the room feeling so cold. You glance at your bedroom door and he notices promptly.

“I’ll carry you, for a price.”

Your eyes flicker back to him and the simper he flashes you would’ve had you weak in the knees had you been standing.

“Like what, my soul?” It’s a slightly genuine, slightly snarky question.

“Your mouth.” Dabi waves a hand at your widened eyes. “Not tonight. Maybe next time. You won’t know up from down and I don’t feel like playing teacher more than I already am.”

The demon doesn’t wait for your snarky remark before he picks you up and lugs you to your bed. You let out a noise when he literally drops you onto the mattress, your form bouncing atop it before he pins you to the bed roughly, so quickly you get dizzy. He dips his hips between your legs and spreads them wide while his mouth delves into the crook of your sweat-coated neck to let him begin suckling and leaving stinging marks with sweet, little kisses peppered in between.

It seems he’s suddenly gone soft on you, but it won’t last, even if you don’t know it.

Your back arches against him, ready to finally feel his torrid body against yours so that you can relish in his warmth despite the fact that your body was soaked in sweat; you wanted so much more, you needed it. Your next moan is dealt without a care who can hear, and thereafter with you wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Dabi grabs your hips and squeezes the plump flesh before his hands roam down your thighs to your knees as he hikes your legs around his hips, with you far too eager not to comply.

“Dabi,” you breathe, and he hums with one of his hands still on your hip as the other supports his weight by your shoulder. “Kiss me. Please.” Your voice is desperate and needy, and you’re starting to think this is more than lust pushing you on.

Had he used another demonic spell on you?

When Dabi complies, his hips grind against you to allow his hardened cock to nudge the folds of your glistening pussy.

This time around, with his tongue prodding in your mouth at a slower, more passionate pace, you catch on and realize he has a tongue piercing. Your walls clench at the thought of what it would feel like licking stripes up and down your soaked cunt, wondering whether it would be cool to the touch or searing hot due to his body temperature.

Searing hot would be the answer, though you don’t know that as of now.

The demon grinds against you as he devours your mouth with his own, his weeping cock sliding through your your wet folds. On the other hand you’re careful not to cut your tongue on his teeth again, albeit he wouldn’t complain if you did; if anything he’d encourage it. Your hands splay on his hot back, and you wonder that if leaving them on his searing skin for too long will burn you. If it gave you the opportunity to roam your fingers over his muscles and caress the staples, goddamn would it be worth the burns. With a sigh into his mouth your hands move from his back to grab onto those horns you’d thought about, your grip gentle yet exploring as you try to focus on feeling the rough texture of them.

Dabi pulls away from you to pepper open-mouthed kisses among your jawline, growling all the while. “What’re you doing?” he brusquely asks between the wet gestures, and you croon. His voice was so rough and gravelly while the gestures were soft and... sweet. You almost dare to say it was heavenly.

“Just feelin’ ‘em, babydoll.”

You throw his pet name back at him purposefully, and the mockery elicits a dark chuckle from him. Ever so slowly, you were beginning to learn how to be more brazen. You were getting comfortable with him on this intimate level. You’d already been comfortable in some way with him living forcibly in your apartment for over a month, but not on this level, not like this.

The stapled hand on your leg disappears before it reappears in your hair and gives a pull - not a yank - to tilt your head back and further expose your neck. You expect him to ravage it with his mouth like earlier, but he stopped to admire his apparent handiwork. You can’t see the marks he’s left, albeit he’s apparently satisfied as he smirks.

“What’re you doing?” you mimic him playfully.

“Thinkin’ about how I want you, of course.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

In response, you huff at him.

“Let’s see,” he begins, moving closer to you, his breath fanning the lower half of your face as his eyes bore into your soul, “chest up against the wall, or on your hands and knees... hell, maybe just your knees...” He moves down so that his breath reaches just under your jaw, his eyes still staring intensely up at you while his hand slithers to your tit, rolling the hardened bud under his finger and you mewl. “...could always put you in a mating press and fuck you like a bitch in heat... I might even let you get on top, if you’re a good girl. Decisions, decisions, eh?”

“What,” you huff, “you mean, with all that whoring and harassing you did, you never thought this through?” You mirror his smirk with your own quirked brow while you rub the horns on his head, thoroughly enjoying their soft yet rippled texture.

“Oho, that’s the problem, doll. I’ve thought about it too much.” Dabi’s teeth put on a show for you to see from his widening smirk. Next thing you know, his fingers are pinching and tugging your nipple roughly for the first time and you keen under him from the shock before his wet mouth matches onto your other tit, tongue lulling over the bud. You mewl and flick your head back, chest heaving in your panting as you feel him suction onto your plump skin and suck away with a sopping, hot mouth, his low sigh into your skin blissful.

Your hands drop to his shoulders as a result of the distraction his mouth brings. Demonic saliva coats your tit and glistens in what little silvery moonlight filters through your blinds, all while you feel the pull of your leg over his right shoulder and prodding at your weeping heat with the tip of his cock.

“Ya know what?” he murmurs into your skin, “I wanna see these lovely tits of yours bounce.” With his other hand he guides the tip in and gives a moan at how warm and slick the entrance of your cunt is around him. And tight as hell, too. Of all the summons he could’ve answered, he answered the one that, unbeknownst to Dabi, lead to you, just on a whim. And fuck, if it wasn’t worth it.

You whine and writhe underneath him, needy as can be, as your entrance clenches around the head of his cock.

“Use your words, babydoll.”

You groan at him. “Just please hurry up and fuck me!”

“Your wish is my command...” Dabi’s voice is full of tease and mockery, which makes you want to bite his tongue.

Without any warning he sheaths his cock all the way into you as a groan escapes his throat, and you jolt at the sensation of suddenly being so goddamned full, your lustful gasp resonating off the walls of your bedroom. That one hard pump of his hips sends a wave up pleasure through your nervous system and the stretch of your tight walls leaves you wanting more. He’s much longer and thicker than his fingers, and you can’t help your cunt clenching around him like it does. The subconscious movement has Dabi groaning and panting out as you clench on his cock, and he still can’t help but relish in how fucking worth the wait you are.

That stretch of your cunt is back again, sweet and sinful as before. His cock brushes against all the right places, filling you up perfectly and having you drool for more.

Dabi holds still at least, though you can tell it won’t be for long.

“So goddamned tight,” he spits through his teeth against your neck, fighting the demanding of every cell in his body to fuck you like a rabid animal. Dabi’s hot breath fans over your neck, his teeth clenching as a result of your tightness around him.

His hips slowly start pushing and pulling to gently thrust his throbbing cock in and out of you, slowly letting you adjust before he can pick a normal pace.

...is what you thought he would do.

But nay, he begins with slow and agonizingly yet blissfully hard thrusts into your wet core, his grunts being drowned out by your wails and mewls as he slams into your sopping cunt. The lewd sounds of wet skin slapping slowly against skin and hot squelching mixes into it all, creating a melody of sin only you and Dabi share, that only the two of you can hear.

You were definitely going to hell, by now. But hey, good dick seemed worth the eternal damnation. Right?

With one particularly hard thrust, Dabi bites into the crook between your neck and shoulder, unexpectedly not breaking the skin, eliciting a cry from your parched throat and your eyes shut tight. The teeth latching onto your skin feel less sharp and more human, as he’s morphed them not to tear into your flesh and draw blood. He’d never hear the end of it for getting blood on your sheets, he knew that. Besides, if he wasn’t careful it would kill you.

He doesn’t want that happening again. Ugh. That was a godsforsaken mess - literally.

With every pounce of his hips, your tits bounce on your chest like he set out to do and he was sure to take in the sight of it all very well, having waited over a month for it. The smarting pang you felt earlier when his fingers fucked you is completely gone by now, leaving you to writhe and thrust your own hips from the overwhelming fucking of your senses.

“Dabi, Dabi!” you sob, your thoughts blending together until nothing but the demon inside of you remains in your consciousness. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, drawing a thick, black liquid in the deep crescents, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Words, babydoll,” he breathes out, emphasizing the first word with a thrust. “C’mon, you know better.” He groans above you.

A yelp and another, higher in pitch slap of skin resonates within the room amidst the wet, sloppy ones and his grunts, but it doesn’t register that he’s slapped the underside of the thigh perched on his shoulder until you feel the pulsating sting that scatters through your leg. The yelp was apparently yours.

“Faster!” Your voice is devoured by a whiny tone and squeals that fight out of you, but it’s drowned out by the rhythm of his hips against yours.

Another slap hits your senses, and you cry out, tears flooding your eyelids. All you need is a little push.

“So fuckin’ demanding... Where are your manners, little mouse?” His lips are on your ear again, almost as if threateningly. “I’d be a little more... ngh...  polite if I were you.” The covers bunch and roll under your body when it’s slid back against them from the hardest thrust he’s graced you with yet, the process bringing a shriek out of you and shock as a result of his hitting that special spot after angling his hips just right and causing your poor head to spin. With Dabi then yanking you back to where you were with the hand on your thigh above the reddening cloud of flesh, you croon underneath him as he stops fucking your dripping wet heat altogether. You’re left to stare into his fiery blue eyes directly while hot breaths flood out of you in rapid succession. His nose almost touched yours, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re at my mercy, doll. If I don’t want you to cum, you won’t.”

“Nonono, I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’m sorry!”

A cross between a hum and growl leaves his throat, and you shrink underneath him.

“‘Please,’ what?”

“Go faster, please!”

Dabi’s teeth are on your neck again when he picks up his thrusting into you, increasing in speed and fucking your sopping pussy like you had requested. With his hands on your hips, the demon mutters praises and moans into your neck and you sputter incoherent gibberish when you’re not gasping for air and squealing and bawling out from his almost inhuman, blissful pace. The leg wrapped around his waist clenches as hard as you’re physically able as he slams into you, and while your senses are being ravaged and brutalized, you hear faintly those wet squelching noises and the sounds of metal and wood creaking. You weren’t sure if the thrumming in your eardrums was your heartbeat or your headboard hitting the wall, but the thought of the latter rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Dabi angles his hips just right and smacks his cock into that oh-so-special spot within your soft cunt, and the jolt of pleasure and utter bliss that results brings you back to reality momentarily - yet still somehow throwing you out of your mind.

“Right there! Dabi! Oh, fuck!” You sob with a slur, your hands grasping and clawing at his back desperately. Incoherent garbling follows thereafter, and Dabi doesn’t even try to decipher it even if it is silk against his ears.

The fingers gripping onto your hips are so tightly embedded into your skin, Dabi’s sure they will leave round little bruises in their wake and he relishes in the idea, but the sting they bring you feels so damned good, you welcome it, too. The tension that builds within your cunt keeps building and building, your hot walls clenching around Dabi as you near carnal release. You’re close, so fucking close to the height of true bliss, your moans getting higher and higher in pitch as your back lifts off the mattress without you willing it. You feel that familiar tingle before-

It stops.

You sob at the utter emptiness and lack of release, your head spinning.

The ancient bastard denied you of your orgasm.

Chest heaving up and down in your panting, your wordless whine and protest at the emptiness you can feel is seemingly ignored by Dabi. The lack of warmth at your pulsating core is almost... cold. So cold.

“Wh-why...?” you whine.

The demon lets out a breathy groan. You can feel him dip his lips to your collarbone and smirk. “Just ‘cause.”

Quickly the demon sits back on his haunches and your arms droop off his shoulders. Dabi blinks at you with his hand holding your ankle to his shoulder, all the while staring you down with an intensity that has you feeling small, like an ant before an elephant. You’re so vulnerable and naked under his unwavering gaze, it’s nearly frightening. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It’s soft but it’s predatory. He drinks in the sight of you leisurely.

You know damn good and well blood is rushing to your face, your hot breaths leaving you in weak puffs.

“Aren’t you precious?” you hear him remark with a toothy smirk. “Just for me. Right?”

You nod.

Demonically slitted eyes narrow at you darkly. “Say it, then,” he demands.

“Just...” you pant, “for you.”

Dabi’s hand pulls your ankle off him and puts your foot flat against the bedding next to his knee as he looks down at you. The moonlight striking the vibrant color of Dabi’s eyes is breathtaking, if your breath could be knocked out of your lungs further. It almost forced you to liken the sight with tinted ice, with icy waters off Iceland or perhaps glacier-dwelling seas of the Antarctic. And yet, you knew better.

The sight before Dabi was more than he’d expected, albeit just as sinful. Seeing you splashed out in bed, sweating and panting and dripping in your own essence just for him drove him wild. You were so adamant against fucking him, about retaining your innocence and saving it for the “right” person, in the beginning. And yet now, you let him do as he pleases and he didn’t doubt it would be the first time. He knew better.

“Get on your hands and knees, love.”

That was a first. “Love?” You like it more than the several others. It was smoky and gravelly and breathy all once.

Without your knowing your eyes soften and you grin the tiniest grin at the demon, knowing he won’t return the favor and be as gentle and sweet with you. He’s quick to quirk a brow at you, but you turn on your side to maneuver your body around and comply with Dabi’s command. Your breath has evened out by now, as you prop yourself on your elbows with your ass pointing out to Dabi, weeping cunt ready to be filled. It was embarrassing being on display like this again. You glance back at him with curious eyes, only to be met with silence and what felt like a dark presence. He’d gone cold on you.

You feel a hot hand on the nape of your neck and swear on whatever god you used to believe that your skin sizzled for a bit, while another lands on your left hip as his cock presses up against your folds and slithers through between your legs a couple times, gathering the slick of your essence - as if it needed to! - before he delves into your pussy once again. You croon in front of him, and the moan that comes out of Dabi has you clenching around his cock for the countless time. He mutters something untranslatable to you and pushes down on your nape, easing you face-first into the mattress. Your bedding was so soft and warm from your own body heat. Maybe it was leakage from the demon’s body temperature, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was a mix of both, intermingling like perfectly-cut pieces of a puzzle.

With a sharp moan, Dabi bottoms out in you, your mewls being swallowed by the bedding pressing against your cheek. You sigh into plush warmth, but the soft and gooeyness you feel is quickly torn away by a harsh snap of Dabi’s hips. Your gasp is cut through by a squeak from your throat, only urging him further as you already feel that coil tightening and readying to snap. You feel him shift a little against you, and you try to glance at him as much as you can before he begins thrusting into you again. That hard but slow pace makes its appearance for a short while, and hot damn is it heavenly. You moan and whine completely unabashedly. The walls of your apartment were thin and cheap, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It was just an effect he had on you.

So what if your neighbors knew your were getting railed by a demonic being from ages past?

He certainly wanted them to know.

Dabi’s pace picks up again and you already feel the ripples of pleasure soaring through your body from your clenching cunt, your grip on the fabric underneath you tightening as you fight back the urge to bite into it. Even the lewd slaps of his hips against your ass are louder and quicker, and fuck aren’t they wetter. Dabi himself seems proud of this.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs almost burn like the hand on the back of your neck, your keening and sobbing getting higher in pitch and filled with rushed air. His thrusts only seem to get deeper and harder, if it were possible, and your eyes close shut tightly as your body trembles. Dabi adjusts his hips and continuously hits that oh-so-sweet spot that makes your head cloud over totally, his head falling back at the way your pussy hugs him tight.

“Dabi!” you sob. “Don’t stop, please!” Your wording is heavily slurred and slightly hushed from the impact of his fucking your nerves and your cheek being pushed into the bed, but you manage, nonetheless. You can’t fight back the drool that droops out the corner of your mouth.

The demon chuckles. Dabi could hear you say his name like that for a thousand years straight and it wouldn’t be enough. “S’pose you’ve been a good girl, babydoll. Go on, I’ll let you cum.”

The hand on your neck moves to your shoulder and soon enough, your chest and face are removed from the sheets, albeit you’re still on all fours as he fucks into you. Thereafter you feel the piping heat of his chest against your back, a crude reminder of the seven layers of arson Dabi’s capable. His hand holds you still while he continues to wrack your body with thrusts into your wet heat. You feel his fingers rub and circle your clit after a torrid hand snakes around your ribs and down your navel, and the pace of Dabi’s fingers is almost in beautiful tandem with his fucking as he hits that special spot over and over and over again. You can feel your essence flowing down the insides of your thighs like you thought wasn’t even possible, pussy dripping onto your bedding.

Ah, fuck.

With a lustful shriek, your spongy walls convulse around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, your vision going white as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body rocks back and forth, legs twitching and torso shuddering. It takes almost everything Dabi has not to cum then and there, his hiss and loud growl being evidence of that. You just feel so good, why wouldn’t he want to cum now? But no, that would be a treat for you later.

Your clutch on the bedding underneath is as tight as you’re fully capable, and your knuckles turn white while you revel in your own personal bliss, courtesy of whatever the hell Dabi is. The intensity of it all has your head spinning and body pulsating. Poor body beginning to come down from the fierce high, you wondered if Dabi would stop and let you bliss out - but nay; he continues to fuck you like an animal and abuse your clit while you cry it all out. You were drenched in sweat, your cheeks flooded with tears you didn’t know were there until now.

“Too much, too much,” you squeak quietly, so quiet you’re not even sure he could hear you. But maybe it was incoherent. Maybe you were babbling and drooling like a fucked out hole at this point. Was it getting overwhelming? Yes. Did it feel ungodly good? Fuck yes.

“You’re so fuckin’... wet, though,” he pants, before slowing down slightly. “I think you’re playing innocent. You like this, ah, don’t you?” Dabi groans as you continue to flutter, sensitively, around him. “You want me to fuck you stupid, to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, right?”

Dabi chuckles at your lack of response and continues to ram into your soaking heat with your cries and squeaks only urging him further. An attempt to glance at Dabi is mostly thwarted by the pace he’s taken on, or maybe it’s because everything’s spinning - or is it the tears flooding from your eyelids - you manage to meet his icy, slitted eyes once, which prompts him to poke kisses at your nape and behind your ear. You feel that familiar warmth in your entire pelvis, you cunt clenching down on his cock as the waves of pleasure intensify.

“Dabi, I- nnn, it’s too mu-much,” you whine. “Please.”

“Nah, you’re okay, babydoll,” he drawls cockily, voice gravelly and breathy enough to make you cum on command. “I think you’ve got a few more for me, don’t you? C’mon.” He makes a point to hit your g-spot harder than before after he’s done talking, and goddamn does it take the air out of your lungs. You choke on your own spit when you feel that piping hot hand patted against your asscheek repeatedly.

Your shriek and wet slopping fills the room as you cum yet again, albeit this time the pressure on your nerves feels different - smoother, warmer - and the tingle in your belly is intense as your scream feels like it claws at your throat until it bleeds. Your thighs are drenched in your juices, cunt twitching and clenching in the aftermath of your mind-splitting pleasure. You mumble and whimper as he finally slows down and gives you a sliver of mercy, both of his hands now holding you up by your hips when your torso slowly droops down like it was before. Dabi chuckles behind you quietly as he comes to a halt.

“You good, doll?”

He’s definitely not sincere.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you heave and pant, the fabric in your fingers wrinkling in their grasp.

“Oi, you can’t quit on me now,” he demands. “I haven’t cum yet and I gotta make you squirt again.”

Trying to get a whole, solid word out was a struggle as a result of your heavy breathing and the overstimulation. Your head was fuzzy and the room was spinning like a damn typhoon, and for a split moment you thought you’d fallen unconscious. What spills out is garbled nonsense.

The demon hums that inquisitive hum again, urging you to speak.

You lift your cheek off the bed slightly, as you’re able. “Will...”

You’re not sure why, but the thought of Dabi skipping off after taking your virginity so unceremoniously rang into your thoughts, giving you a sense of loneliness and anxiety. Why, though? Why now?

“Huh?” He leans in so close, his horn bobs off the side of your head when he arches over you to put an ear to your lips. “Try again, love. Go on.” He sounds quite intrigued, probably the most you’ve heard him.

“Will you... hah, leave... me?”

The grin against your neck is dark.

“Whaddya mean, little mouse?”

His voice was downright excited. You were worth the wait. How long had it been since he’d had a human so obedient, so innocent yet so easily corrupted? You were his, now - whether you liked it or not was irrelevant. But he knew you would. Dabi had grown on you far more than you’d ever admit, he knew that for a fact. You were clearly enjoying yourself now, anyway. And it didn’t take magic to do all of this, save for one here and there to coax you to enjoy yourself and to bring out subconscious feelings. Like right now. You felt these things, he just amplified them to an unbearable extent. Whoops. You poor thing.

“Don’t go.”

Eyes half-lidded and droopy, you turn your head to look back at the demon, only to be met with sharp teeth shown off in a naughty grin. You blink once and you could’ve sworn you saw an image of a black, smoky aura surrounding him.

“If you can handle me, dear.”

You nod against the bed slowly before trying to push your ass against him with what little stability you have. Even if his cock was still buried in you, without any movement you felt empty and... alone.

“I thought it was too much?” he quips, hand rubbing at your reddened ass cheek in a way you have to describe as soothing. It felt so silky and mellow. Yet you knew he was far from that. “Well? I thought you were bitchin’ out on me like the virgin you are.”

“In... insi... inside,” you sputter shyly, mental clarity not quite returning, albeit you manage enough to think of that at least. You want him to cum inside, to know what it feels like to be stuffed full of his cum, to feel his cock twitching inside after his release. “C-um.”

You never would’ve thought about that before you met him. Why would you feel this way?

“Aw, what is it?” The hum that results from his scarred throat is dark. “You want me to cum inside right now? I’m not sure you’ve earned that yet.” His voice is bastardly and maybe even a little teasing, and he sighs almost happily at your squirming. “Asking me to cum inside like that the first time you get fucked - such a whore. Have I fucked you stupid already, doll? Shame, I thought you’d hold out better than that.” Dabi clicked his tongue and shook his head, though you can’t see. “Broken so early. Guess there’s no point in me stickin’ around after all, huh?”

A noise sounds from the back of your throat in protest and nearly unbeknownst to you, drool slithers out the corner of your mouth. Dabi seems to ignore your noises as his hands adjust your hips, giving you enough friction to elicit a whine from your lips. You can’t register this at the moment, but Dabi was a victim to his own whims and could be a mix of soft and downright mean in the bedroom, and there’s no telling which will arise. Sometimes he’ll want skin against skin, tongue lashing against yours, fiery pleasure; sometimes he wants to insult you and lash his hand across your ass cheek, leaving bruises or drawing blood wherever he can.

“I was gonna make you convince me,” he breathes, slowly thrusting. “But considering you’re still conscious, I think that’s enough.” Dabi chuckles behind you. Well, you were only conscious as per his meddling. He was the one keeping your consciousness pulled to the surface, preventing you from letting go of reality and passing out. “You’re most welcome to cry and beg, though, babydoll.”

Hell, that list was half-checked off. Tears stained your cheeks and blurred your vision already, and the more he fucked into you, the more they fluttered out. Your lungs burned at this point, a searing heat cutting through your chest. Anything you try to say comes out incoherently, a sputtered and garbled mess, when it’s not a pitiful sob.

You push your hips back against him in an attempt to fuck yourself on his cock while Dabi fucks your puffy cunt, drawing a condescending chuckle from him. The jolt of overstimulation beckoned you to crawl away and relieve yourself of him, but the need to have him thrusting and cumming inside you overcame it. His release and what it would feel like to have his cum mixing with your juices and dripping out of you was all you could think about, as if entranced in a spell that bound your consciousness to that one thing. The rest of your thoughts were jumbled and incoherent even to you, the drool trickling out your mouth and the rolling of your eyes into the back of your head representative of that.

As Dabi watched your pussy envelop him, he couldn’t help but envision his name carved into your asscheeks with a sharpened claw of his. Ah, the squeals and squeaks that crawl out of you would be divine in the most sinful way possible, and the threads of blood that would trickle down your skin would taste head-spinningly beautiful. Maybe next time. Dabi’s jaw clenched at the throb of his cock within your sputtering, velvety walls, the tightness in his abdomen building. Just one more...

“Fuck, little one...!”

As the demon drags sharp claws up your thigh and asscheek, it leaves red ribbons in its wake and the squeeze of your cunt and pitiful squeal tells him well that you’re enjoying it far more than you ever thought you would.

“Such a good fucking human... good fuckin’ hole,” he grunts, voice strained. His hand plants on the middle of your back and pushes hard, bowing your poor back as his other hand keeps your hips up, his cock ramming into you at a faster pace. Dabi lets out a loud groan when he sees the blissed out, tear-stained, drool-covered face of yours before his thrusting loses rhythm and he suddenly feels your pussy flutter around him hard in orgasm again, soaking him in your slick again. Finally he allows himself to find the release you’d internally begged for, fucking into you at a less than rhythmic pace as his own mind begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Ah, shit. Fuck, fuck, motherfucking-!”

Dabi soon finds his teeth embedded into your flesh and gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise or even cut into the skin as his hips move entirely on their own against you. With a strained moan he cums, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your fluttering, sensitive, and overstimulated walls as you literally cry and sob underneath him, his hips still involuntarily thrusting into you as your cunt milks him for all he’s worth.

“Fucking hell,” he bites out, body relaxing against yours as he comes down from the high, yet he doesn’t pull out. “I missed this.” His voice is breathy and littered with pants against your neck. Dabi leaves a few wet kisses to it before leaning back and slowly pulling out with a groan, leaving you empty and dripping before him. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out but is quick to gather it with his fingers and push it roughly back into your pulsating cunt.

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

Your poor head spins and you don’t know up from down, so Dabi ushers you to lay down and before he knows it, you’re passed out asleep. Eh, he’ll consider aftercare next time maybe. With a yawn that’s more out of sudden boredom than it is exhaustion, Dabi lays down next to you and props his head up with his hand, leaning against his elbow as he watches you sleep peacefully, a complete contrast to a few mere minutes ago. With a smirk he wipes the tears off your cheeks. Those cheeks...

“I oughta answer sacrifices more often.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi #mha #bnha #blue hour. #*throws candy* happy halloween have some mediocre smut!

[demonslayedher]

Hello! I don't know if you've been asked about this before but I love your analysis and reflections and I'd love to know all your thoughts about Zennezu if you don't mind 👀⚡🎀 Thanks so much for this blog!! 😊💝

Thank you again for your patience, as well as your comments on my fics and stuff in the meantime (even on Bird Fic, kya~ thank you <3). All my thoughts, hmmmmn…. Well, clearly I am a fluffy ZenNezu shipper and ship-content creator now, but I sure didn’t start that way. This may be long and rambling and mixed between analysis and personal taste. (Actually, it turned into almost 4000 words.)

So. First a little background. I usually am not much of a shipper. The very few OTPs I have all ended in horrific tragedy, and when romance is a big focus of something I’m otherwise enjoying I usually end up not paying much attention to it in favor of all the other elements I like. This is so much more the case when you can tell they’re going to wind up happily ever after. So what happened to make me so soft and fuzzy about the Kimetsu ships, when I otherwise usually don’t have an appetite for happy fluffy romantic endings?

Three major factors: 1. I’m obsessed. 2. I love these characters and want to see anything and everything about them. 3. Romance wasn’t actually a big element at all in canon, so it left me with an appetite and curiosity for it.

Even though I figured from long ago that ZenNezu would be end game, initially I was somewhere between indifferent and put-off. As much as I love Zenitsu, and I acknowledge that Ufotable the added the “run around and chase Nezuko” bit and removed the part with Zenitsu adoringly talking to Nezuko through her box, and as much as he can be defended for being lonely rather a pervert, the fact still stands that his level of appreciation for girls makes the characters around him uncomfortable. His most cringe-worthy lines at the Butterfly Mansion are all straight from the manga, and even though he was easily one of my favorite characters by the end of my initial watch of the series, I was very put off by his “girls are all queens” surface-level comments and more disturbing pleasure he took in the presence of girls (especially when he could physically interact with them), not to mention his pathetic introduction bothering a complete stranger and displaying that he doesn’t actually take girls’ feelings into consideration.

All this made me inwardly groan, feeling bad for Nezuko, figuring they were going to wind up together because she’s a saint who can find the patience to deal with someone like that, as he clearly wasn’t going to be desirable to any of the rest of the female cast. Enjoying the series well enough despite this, it didn’t bother me terribly much, pairings happen, whatever, I have a history of ignoring them. But one day, well and deep into caring about this whole cast like they’re all my children, I realized something. Isn’t… isn’t it cute how they both get their strength from taking naps? W-wouldn’t it be cute to see them innocently take naps together? Naps to protect each other? Oh. Oh-h-h-h-h. Oh dear. Oh no, it’s cute. Oh no. OH NO.

And that was how my warming up to this pairing started, it very quickly grew into “I love these children and I want them to be happy, being with Nezuko will make Zenitsu very, very happy, I love seeing him happy, happy Zenitsu” but was still a little reserved about Nezuko. Zenitsu was going to make her happy, right? It wasn’t just going to be a case of Nezuko having gotten fond of him over the course of everything they’ve been though, he is actually going to be her taste and make her heart go “kyun” right? Oh Nezuko, oh saintly Nezuko…

Let’s take a moment to pause here and think chronologically, though, as well as analyze their personalities and tastes. Neither of them are particularly picky, we can start there. Aside from fussy busy-bodies like Aoi, as long as it’s a girl, any girl is Zenitsu’s type. He’s desperate, and he’s painted the whole of girl-kind in pretty similar, not always realistic rosy colors. Even though he’s been used and abused by so many girls in his past, it’s his desire to believe that each new one he meets will fit that rosy imaginary color he paints over them that he chooses to let himself be duped, because he really is that lonely. I’ll give him that, sure, he’s a healthy young man with an interest in physical touch, but his dream in Mugen Ressha gives a good indication of what he’s really looking for: companionship, someone who likes spending time with him, someone who will find him useful and believe in him and look to him for protection, someone who likes him enough to spare him the physical intimacy of simply holding his hand. This is all an extension of what Zenitsu desires as whole, hoping he can better himself enough to be reliable and valued in general. Picturing it in the form of a significant other is one very vivid way to focus all those feelings, resulting in that rosy ideal which Zenitsu probably knows in his heart of hearts is too good to be true. That’s why he probably doesn’t think he’s ever going to find it, and therefore why he’s all over any slightest chance of attaining it.

My gosh, if being abandoned over and over isn’t enough, the fact that none of the girls he dated in the past were ever willing to even hold his hand hurts so much.

Nezuko, though, grew up in a secure family with a good relationship to observe between her parents. She probably always envisioned growing up to be like her mother, the quintessential “good wife, wise mother” (a phrase coined later on in the Taisho period to idealize the traditional roles of a woman). She cooks and cleans and sews and the first fanbook even tells us she was good at using an abacus, so she can handle family finances like a pro. Her traditional values probably made her tastes pretty standard, hoping for a reliable protector, but also someone who might be as kind as her father and her brother. But as for what makes her heart go doki-doki? The extra comic at the end of volume 3 tells us that she does long since have a type, it’s a person who’s like a Hisha.

Hisha: a chess/Shougi piece that can move an unlimited number of spaces in horizontal and vertical directions, and is crowned a dragon when it enters enemy territory.

So, yes, this is the part where we all smile and point at Gotouge and say, “I see what you did there, Wani-sensei.”

I find this reassuring; it tells me that Nezuko can find her heart squeezed at how cool Zenitsu is instead of just coming around and liking him because she was flattered by his affection and learned to see how nice he is and stuff. There are plenty of nice Demon Slayers who are strong and cool protectors, but that ZING that Zenitsu has (when he’s asleep) is something that can make her heart race. I’m all for this. I hinge so much of my ZenNezu feelings on this Hisha comment.

The second fanbook states that Nezuko initially had trouble sorting out her memories, and because Zenitsu gave her two such different impressions, it felt like memories of two different people, but over time the memories overlapped to form one complete person. We could say that she and Zenitsu had two first meetings.

Initially, when she was in the box, her little demon heart did go doki-doki; it was the first time a boy besides her brother had protected her, so even though Oniichan is Number One in her heart for the general duration of canon, this encounter was sure to leave a flattering impression. However, when they met face to face that night, he was just some confusing dandelion yelling and screaming about weird stuff, and then he was just a confusing (and possible bothersome) dandelion wanting to hang around her and give her flowers and stuff. It’s anyone’s guess just how “there” Nezuko was at this stage, as she does seem to gain back more of her own will and thought processes over the course of the series, rather than being guided by very, very simple rules to govern her behavior.

Zenitsu feel in love at first sight, and the second fanbook tells us he asked Tanjiro about her human personality, seeing as she wasn’t fully there. He was initially doubtful that anyone so perfect as Nezuko could exist and figured Tanjiro must had been biased and therefore exaggerating, but can we blame Zenitsu for being a smidge guarded? He’s been let down a lot, after all.

We know from Taisho Secrets and side novels that Zenitsu spent a lot of time with Nezuko during their long recovery at the Butterfly Mansion. Even how much more thought we see Nezuko display in the Train arc, she probably underwent a lot of mental development in this time, and my guess is that due to how much he interacted with her, this is probably when Zenitsu went from being a strange dandelion to a strange companion. She probably focused more on the goldfish and the pretty flowers (which he did take her to see!) and any flattering mention of her brother, though. Zenitsu, I’m relieved to say, seemed to genuinely care about what would make Nezuko happy instead of selfishly assuming something like “she likes me too, she wants to marry me.” But knowing Zenitsu, he probably assumed that her willingness to spend time with him was an indication of being willing to talk marriage once she was more herself again, though.

Let’s pause here and put on our Oniichan goggles, though. Early on, Tanjiro has to insist to just about everyone that Nezuko is still her own person with her own thoughts and feelings. Being a demon has taken a lot of her freedom to act on her true nature away from her, but he knows she’s still in there and he treats her like an equal human being. He had to watch over and over as people see his sister and only think, “demon.”

And then there’s his friend Zenitsu, who looks at her and thinks, “girl. Girl! Girl. Girl. Sweet girl, adorable girl, best girl in the world.” And maybe that’s a little bothersome, but yes, someone gets it!! Someone understands! Even though Tanjiro’s initial concerns are keeping Nezuko from being bothered by unwelcome advances, as long as Zenitsu is willing to respect that Nezuko is not entirely able to speak for herself now, he seems pretty approving of Zenitsu (provided Nezuko decides she likes him back). I’d like to think there was an unspoken promise between bros on what boundaries to follow. Besides that, Tanjiro believes in Zenitsu a lot more than Zenitsu believes in himself, so Tanjiro probably wasn’t worried about the “strong protector” role a future husband should fulfil. Or at least, Tanjiro doesn’t seem concerned once he gets to know Zenitsu, he’d have rejected Zenitsu flat-out on that first meeting. Zenitsu, you are so lucky Tanjiro is so forgiving.

However, for as much as Zenitsu sees Nezuko as “GIRL!! Girl, girl, girl!”, he’s still got his rosy vision that conveniently clouds out any disturbing realities. She is, after all, a demon.

This is something Zenitsu never actually had the chance to struggle with, and I would have really liked to see him challenged by that reality a bit more. He never witnessed Nezuko’s berserker mode, nor did he ever see her struggle to keep from eating someone, he wasn’t even awake to watch her fight like a violent animal/angry toddler on the train. Had there been a scene of Zenitsu forced to face how terrifying she had potential to be, it would had really sold his commitment to Nezuko specifically, instead of only Nezuko as his most likely girlfriend candidate.

On the train, Nezuko has the good fortune of seeing another side of Zenitsu, getting one hell of a doki-doki moment. As she’s gaining more self-awareness back, it probably made those doki-dokis more complex too. While I understand there wasn’t a good opportunity to fit in the pace of the story, I love that Taisho Secret of her concerned about him before he wakes up. Instead of him just being that boy who shows her pretty things and says nice things about her Oniichan, this is when he starts becoming something a little more unique among all the people whom little demon Nezuko has bet and who have been nice to her.

In the months that follow, we don’t get much deviation from this slow development. Zenitsu’s feelings toward Nezuko don’t really change at all, but there’s another thing about this ship: neither one chose the other over anybody else. They sort of just came together, Zenitsu gets hooked on one girl at a time, but what if someone had come along with an interest in him? At what point would he had given up on Nezuko? Probably pretty quickly, if someone was serious enough about him. It wouldn’t have been a break up either, since he was still in the pursuing stages (might be more of a break-up conversation with Tanjiro, who had been tacitly supportive).

Actually, for most of the remainder of the series, the affection that Nezuko and Zenitsu build for each other is done when they’re apart, dwelling on their thoughts of each other. For Nezuko, we see this come out after the Swordsmith Village arc in her sunlit elation to see him again, and her efforts to greet him. She very clearly recognizes him and is happy to see him, a big difference compared to how she was more elated by the sight of a fishbowl before. In Zenitsu’s case, this deepening of his affections and running away with his thoughts and feelings results him declaring once and for all, this is her. He’s found her. This is the girl who he will be committed to his whole life, in his heart she is already his wife.

When human!Nezuko is gaining her memories back, her first impressions are of the boy showing her pretty things and giving her flowers, someone who probably has a crush on her, rather than thinking back to someone who she may have had a crush on. (Those cool impressions probably hit her later, I’m assuming, given the stress of the moment.) Romance is not immediately on her mind, though she does quickly recall having friendly affection for this boy for has always been so sweet to her. And Nezuko, handling his surprising level of affection gracefully, helps Zenitsu off the battlefield while he’s in terrible pain (though she probably was too, my poor girl, that fight with demon!Tanjiro was so rough). But honestly, not only is she probably too overwhelmed by everything to think much about romance, but she probably doesn’t take Zenitsu very seriously initially. She knows he’s got a tendency to overexaggerate, and it’s nice that he’s so sweet to her, but since he acts all fluffy and silly around her she probably thinks he’s not being that serious either. Furthermore, she’s got a lot of people to suddenly care about, Zenitsu has a lot to contend with for trying to get special attention. Hell, Zenitsu was probably awake and causing a racket while she was frantic with worry that comatose Giyuu might die. While she did remake Jiichan’s haori to fit Zenitsu’s later, see spent her time in the hospital mending Giyuu’s haori (Nezuko, baby, doesn’t your hand hurt though!?). While Zenitsu was swept up in happy “Nezuko is human now, we’re totally gonna get married” feels, he probably didn’t even notice that he was only one slice in a very big pie of memories that Nezuko suddenly found in her lap and had to slowly chew and digest.

So… this brings us to the extra post-canon comic in the second fanbook, which I initially did not like very much back when it came out in February. I’ve come around a lot to it, but what really hit me at first was “oh no, Nezuko really is only going to accept this marriage because she’s a saint, he’s not being desirable at all.”

But, treating it with a little more patience and sympathy for Zenitsu… he’s just gotten what he’s always wanted, of course he’s going to stop striving a bit and get blissfully carried away in it. And Nezuko, the ever sweet, isn’t going to stop him.

Some of the other commentary in the fanbook states that Zenitsu, for a time, found himself terrified of how girls could be sweet to his face while hiding their true thoughts about him. But, finding that Nezuko was not at all two-faced, he nearly “died and went to heaven” as the exaggeration goes. He doesn’t like to work hard in the first place (but does, because it will make people like Jiichan proud), so getting away with being spoiled is too big of a temptation to resist. Nezuko is sensitive to what makes the people around her happy or uncomfortable, so she never makes any request of Zenitsu. She’s so grateful to have their new little family that her happiness is everyone else’s happiness, she doesn’t really desire a heartthrob romance, even if being a wife and mother is an eventual goal. And, without being under any pressure to make someone proud, Zenitsu gets swept away and indulges.

Thank you, Tanjiro, for putting a stop to this.

He’s still rooting for Zenitsu, since this is his friend and he knows it would make his friend happy to wind up with Nezuko, but he’s setting himself up for failure, or setting Nezuko up to be cheated out on a good match at this rate (if she were to accept out of being nice). Very, very thankfully, Zenitsu responds well to pressure. By this point Nezuko has gotten so used to sweet but indulgent Zenitsu that he seems she totally accepted that his Hisha side didn’t exist anymore, if it even existed in the first place.

Good for Zenitsu asking for her response a year later (when they’d be getting to the legal marriage ages for the Taisho period anyway), he knew he still had shaping up to do to earn her affection. And Nezuko probably needed time to build some admiration for him again, since the doki-dokis were so gone. Even if he couldn’t use that super cool Thunder Breath anymore, it would probably catch her attention to see him strive again, to put effort into being manly, specifically for her. It wasn’t just the Thunder Breath that gave her doki-dokis, it was the Hisha knight-like attitude too, whether asleep and acting on his inner potential, or awake and bravely defending her based on his own goodness and faith.

I hope that in their married life, Zenitsu will retain that sort of manliness in being a provider for her, even he does get indulged a lot at home.

Now for how this plays into some of my fanwork and headcanons:

You know how I said all my OTPs were tragedies? Yeah, I love a good dose of angst. I did start writing a single-scene fic one time of injured Zenitsu desperately trying to cover Nezuko from the sun while waiting for Tanjiro to find them, and in Nezuko’s panic about the sun she starts losing her self-control over her appetite, and Zenitsu is forced to confront that the girl he loves could very easily kill him. I never finished it, though, and it was embarrassingly self-indulgent.

For my big favorite AU of a monster fanfic, I did add more ZenNezu on the massive edit, because by this point I just enjoy ZenNezu so much that I wanted more of it. But!! What I really like about working with it in this fic is that there’s a conflict: Demon!Tanjiro. In this canon divergence, Human!Nezuko and Zenitsu get to interact more than they ever did while she was a demon, and they both already have affection for each other, but the lingering fact that Tanjiro is technically their enemy gives me some tension and angst to work with.

Yes, I wrote a One Shot of Zenitsu and Nezuko as fresh new parents, but it was a bit of a dark dive into Zenitsu’s feelings of inadequacy. But domesticity comes with some inevitable fluff anyway, and likewise it felt embarrassing indulgent, and I can’t write fluff without a little bittersweetness. M…maybe the reason I’m not a shipper is because I’m easily flustered???

I’d like to think that Zenitsu got a desk job that he worked hard at because he wants to be a provider, and Nezuko does find his hard work attractive. I headcanon it was at an electric company, because hahahaha, electricity. I’d like to think he had a long career in that company (and although his colleagues know him for having a bit of an extreme personality and being obsessed with his wife, they sometimes catch glimpses of a very, very strong side of Zenitsu—like, scarily strong), and that when he’s old and retired in the Postwar Economic Miracle, he buys a fancy camera to take pictures of Nezuko (instead of “say cheese” it’s “Thunderclap and Flash!”), and he takes Nezuko to Paris because that’s the romantic thing to do. Also, I don’t like moustaches as a rule, but I totally approve of old man Zenitsu having a fluffy moustache.

World War Two, though… I’d like to think that if his job had him in the city, he was extremely reliable when it came to protecting his family in case of bombing. I’d also like to think that this was when the Kamado family moved to the city, because Nezuko was worried about Kanao and her nieces and nephews, so Zenitsu made sure they were all together. Inosuke might had taken the opposite route and taken his family to the mountains to shelter out there in the wild.

AAAAHHHH, listen to me being so self-indulgent with headcanons, I pride myself on sticking close to canon in my fanwork, I will never produce this, AAAAHHHH, I’m embarrassed~~~~I---I’m not a shipper! No! I don’t have a shipper’s bone in my body! Who needs romance, it means nothing to me, I don’t get swept up in happy fantasies about young newlywed Zenitsu and Nezuko, really I don’t, I take what canon gives me and I stick with it, I’m here for bromance and comradery and fights to the death, I—I don’t need disgusting fluffy feelings, ew, ew, no, really-----ahhh, too flustered, too flustered, too flustered, no, no, no, no, no, no, WHEN DID I BECOME A SHIPPER, nnnnnnnnhhhhjjjj

Which is all to say that Zenitsu and Nezuko as a pairing really grew on me, even though it is essentially a fluffy happy pairing that only got surface-level interaction and was never seriously challenged. It’s got some shadows lurking in there, especially diving into Zenitsu’s heart, but in general this was a slow build-up of mutual affection between two characters with pretty simple desires of their own, and most of all, a desire to see each other happy. That makes it a good comfort ship.

And they’re both are sleepyheads, hNNNGGGHHHhhhhHHHHHHHHHHH

#4000 words over the course of which I slowly begin to lose my cool #Zennezu #Zenitsu x Nezuko #Agatsuma Zenitsu #Kamado Nezuko #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kny #demon slayer #KnY Fandom Theories and Meta

[merryfortune]

eggshells

Un-Love You Challenge: Day 20. I hate you, you bitch.

Ship: Asuka/Yuriko

Fandom: Tropical Rouge PreCure

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Inspired by Revolutionary Girl Utena, Minor Animal death

Synopsis: Shrodinger’s bird is both dead and alive depending on whether its eggshell is broken. Asuka and Yuriko both wish that the bird is dead.

AN: As soon as I saw these two interact, I was instantly reminded of Juri and Shiori from RGU so I wanted to write a fic inspired by that.

   The first omen that their relationship was about to be broken beyond all repair was when the fleur-de-lis locket that Asuka had gotten for Yuriko broke. It came off the hinges unexpectedly with no forewarning. Through sheer force of will, Asuka had gotten it to click back into place but it was lopsided and as it was lopsided, Yuriko had little desire to wear it anymore. It sat awkwardly between her clavicles in a way it had never before.

   Especially not in the way Asuka had first adorned Yuriko with it. That moment of repose, in between torn gift wrapping and the intimacy, had meant a lot to them both. Asuka was delicate as the silver chain slipped into place against Yuriko’s skin. As she did so, she regaled an old wives’ tale that Yuriko hadn’t heard before about misplaced locks, whenever they went askew it meant someone was thinking of you and in the essence of that moment, Yuriko couldn’t help but sense that all Asuka was thinking about was her but… Yuriko was aware of other’s thoughts, too, as she was so damnably perceptive.

   The second omen that their relationship was about to be wounded beyond all healing was when that little black and brown sparrow had flown into the window and didn’t get up afterwards. Asuka had wanted to help it; Yuriko had wanted to allow nature to take its course. 

   They had been standing around the tennis club’s hangout, where they stored their sports gear and such, arguing or trying not to argue as they rallied around the obvious issue in the clubroom when they had heard the smack against the glass. Both had rushed outside as soon as it had happened, expecting a tennis ball. Not a bird. With Asuka taking it in her hands, against Yuriko’s harsh fussing, it was already too late. The skull was cracked, as was its beak and so all it could do was twitch in her hand with some imitation of life. Asuka’s expression was grim; Yuriko’s wasn’t even smug. Neither noticed the other, just assuming the other’s reaction.

   The third omen was that they couldn’t even look at one another. Things had become awkward. Stiff. They both knew they were headed for a brick wall but they were trying to overcome it anyway. Going through, going over, going under. Whatever it took but it was slowing down their game. They couldn’t win together as doubles with this hindered team work but they couldn’t even win either way if they were to go out as doubles. The other members of the tennis club could tell something had happened to them. Or, at the very least, something was happening between them.

   There wasn’t a fourth omen because the fourth unusual event was the end of it all. Their friendship, their love, their whatever their relationship was as more than just partners in tennis but a whole lot less than partners than lovers. After all, things tend to end at four. 

   Sometimes, they even died at four. 

   Unfortunately for Asuka and Yuriko, no matter how they wished for it, what they had didn’t die. And neither of them were the type to simply keel over and expire with their hearts in agony. So, what happened instead was some necrotic deterioration of their relationship and everything else in the way was mere canon fodder for what happened. Yuriko retreated to her own camp, finding a new tribe amongst the folk on the student representative council, and Asuka retreated to one at all, instead choosing to lick her wounds in private.

   Or at least that’s what Asuka had wanted to do. She wanted to sculpt herself as the cool girl. The loner. The girl who didn’t need anyone at all, even though it was no secret that doubles tennis was her passion - and so was any video game with co-op play, be it through multi-player or even A.I. controlled characters. And for a while it worked, she would hide out behind the school’s gymnasium or in the toilets, pretending she didn’t exist for the most part until she hit a collision with someone who was like the striking of the summer sun.

   Natsuumi Manatsu. What a girl. She was bright, bubbly, and she had an actual living mermaid living in some sort of watery genie bottle she kept in her bag - and that was to say nothing of what she could do with the ring on her finger. A ring which would soon have a sister which was gifted for Asuka and thus, Cure Flamingo was born and so was the Tropical Club and all aspirations and illusions that Asuka had of being of being a lone wolf were shattered because deep down, she liked to keep a flock of birds.

   Club President Takizawa Asuka did have a good sound to it, even if it really ought to be Manatsu. She was the central and driving force who had connected together a handful of scattered students who wouldn’t have interacted otherwise but no, no, she had humbly given up the role for Asuka. Seeing something in those bright eyes of her’s that Asuka didn’t even see in herself.

   She was thankful but it was unfortunate but she supposed her underclassmen were cute enough so she’d do anything to protect them. Beat up bullies, beat up underwater bad guys, and of course put herself in the crosshairs time and time again of the worst of the worst: young ladies like Kakuta Masami and, of course, Shiratori Yuriko.

   For so long, Asuka had managed to avoid the hawk-eyed ire of the council president. She hadn’t escaped it completely but she had minimised it but thanks to the Tropical Club, Asuka was once again the subject of that cold, hardened gaze. When it could be sustained at least.

   No matter the lecture, it did become apparent here and there within Yuriko’s behaviour that she was avoiding Asuka’s own, fierce gaze. She had all the power of fluttering wings and mermaid magic, she could handle one ex...something. Friend, girlfriend, partner. It didn’t matter; it hadn’t mattered because they felt like it would last forever so there was no need to label it. What rot that was. Now look at them. Going to war each time they gimpsed one another. Asuka could handle how Yuriko’s avian, yellow eyes slitted around her and how she had mastered the effect of looking closely, directly whilst actually not. 

   And so began their newest foray into being foes. The battleground might have changed but the battle itself hadn’t. The to and fro was far too familiar to them both as tennis pros. The rally and the volley. It was all the same to them: all a racket. Thus leading to their latest confrontation in Yuriko’s council room. 

   When it was all to themselves, like right now, they were free to get as downright nasty as they pleased: even if it was under the veneer of rather hushed voices. As much as they wanted to squawk at each other like duelling carrion birds, this was still a school so they had to keep their composure and their voices down. Besides, there were plenty more ways to pierce than just being ear-piercingly shrill in their voices.

   “You’re doing this on purpose,” Asuka insisted brusquely, “random inventory checks by the Disciplinary Committee aren’t so random if they’re only being held on the Tropical Club.”

   Yuriko shrugged, her face just a degree off from fully facing Asuka, her arms were folded in front of her, “I do not control the personal actions and decisions of Kakuta-san,” Yuriko murmured, “I merely suggest that the time is right at pure arbitrary of my own whims as they come and go between the paperwork and other scheduling that I do.”

   The dangling of the conspiracy infuriated Asuka. She growled, her hand balling into a fist by her side and in the thick of that raw noise in her throat, she hissed, “I hate you, you bitch.” Asuka knew she was right and Yuriko knew it too but was keeping it so locked and guarded and yet so out in the open just to bait Asuka. The rage that it caused seeped through and made Asuka seem redder - and madder - than her hair.

   “I hate you, too.” Yuriko smiled, oh so pleasant, her eyes crinkling in the corner with genuine joy.

   Asuka gritted her teeth and she stormed forward. She grabbed Yuriko by the lapels and shook her. Yuriko went prone with the roughness, seemingly not caring one bit at how Asuka had accosted her. Her whole body was limp, without worry, without so much as a glimmer of harshness in her eyes as they were far, far away from this brutish conversation.

   “What the hell is wrong with you?” Asuka growled. “Target me all you want, I don’t care, I can take it but leave the other girls out of it. The Tropical Club has nothing to do with us-”

   A glint of silver caught Asuka’s eye and just that tiny flash was enough to halt her tirade completely. All her anger ceased in her mouth as she was so stunned by what she saw on the pale of Yuriko’s skin. It slinked and slithered on her clavicles, mostly hidden by the turquoise of her flapping collar: the locket.

   “Y-You're still wearing it?” Asuka asked and she let go of Yuriko gingerly.

   She huffed, sorted herself out and Asuka noticed that the clasp was askew. Right by her pencil-thin neck, right where Asuka had always dreamed to leave a bruise: be it from love or from wrath, it mattered not. Especially now that Yuriko had gone and fixed it up, moving the clasp to the back of her neck, the locket moving beneath the white of her sailor shirt.

   Yuriko bore an enigmatic expression as she looked up, done with her fussing. It was distant and playful. And she reached out to Asuka, shocking her with the seeming kindness in her fingertips as they brushed past her temples, caressing her. Asuka winced and she was blinded. Yuriko’s fingers cupped her face in a way so that all she could see - and feel - was her hands. Her soft, supple hands and the spritz of a maturely scented perfume on her wrist. Asuka’s heart skipped a beat.

   Yuriko kissed her. It was a kiss that was like dry ice to Asuka’s searing mouth. It was a cold, clinical kiss that was fit to leave a blister on Asuka’s skin. She tried not to kiss back but all her soul wanted to. She had yearned to kiss Yuriko for so long, so why did this have to be the circumstance? When a kiss was not a kiss but a way in which to kill instead.

   Especially… Especially knowing the last time that Asuka could recall before this incident wherein she and Yuriko had locked eyes, firmly and strongly, for the last time. The event which had been foretold by the various omens of things breaking apart, getting wounded, and even dying. When Asuka had seen Yuriko kissing someone else through the crack of an ajar door at the tennis club room. The memory and recollection made Asuka sick and to think of it now, at such a pertinent moment, sullied the seconds that Yuriko spended on her, kissing her with such stringent luxury that it was calculated to the edge of her sigh on her sharp mouth.

   But in the darkness of her hands, that’s all Asuka could see and it all but killed her. She wished that it killed her.

#femslash #asuka x yuriko #yuriko x asuka #tropical rouge precure #precure #tropical rouge #cure flamingo #takizawa asuka #asuka takizawa #yuriko shiratori #shiratori yuriko #unlove you challenge #writing tag

[pressedinthepages]

Chapter 2: Expectations

Summary: After 30 years of walking the path alone, your heart has hardened over, but it seems there are a couple of cracks.

Series Masterlist

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382063/chapters/59027686

Words: 1754

Warnings: not really any this time, little bit of sexism and swearing, but nothing extreme.

A/N: I know I’m a bit early with this one, but I’m so excited so I can’t wait XD This one’s a bit shorter, but I like where it ended so it’ll be a good setup for the next chapter :) enjoy! Also, the term 'fauntkin' is a medieval term of endearment, essentially meaning "young child."

The sun is high in the sky, a slight breeze stirring dust from the trail as you walk. You can feel eyes burning holes in the back of your armor as you approach the notice board. You’ve arrived in a sizeable town in Velen, almost as far east as Oxenfurt. The people here, you can tell, are well-fed and prosperous. Being this close to a big city tends to leave people with an extra bit of coin in their pockets, but it also tends to come with bigger problems. Sometimes it’s bigger, meaner contracts, or it’s stingy, uptight employers. Your leather skirt billows around your knees, and you are grateful for the lined trousers you wore underneath as the wind bit your nose. You keep the hood on your cloak up, not yet having a chance to figure out just how welcome you are here. 

1225. The year catches your eye from a slip of parchment on the board, glaring at you, taunting you behind a ruse of some poor sap looking for a lost ring. You think back, it’s been about thirty years since you left Kaer Morhen, and you’ve not been able to bring yourself to crawl back up those steps. You’d heard whispers among townsfolk about an attack, just a few years after you left on the Path. You had contemplated returning, feeling a wave of grief come over you as one of the last Wolves on the continent. 

But as you started making the trek towards the mountains, a sense of panic and dread building in your chest. That place had held you down, smothered you, taken everything that you had the potential to be and robbed it of you. It turned you into something not much more than the monsters you are paid to slay and almost killed you in the process. You often found yourself wishing that the damned place had actually finished the job and let you die in the Trials, let you slip from its grasp into the cold, dark earth.

Shaking the daydream away, you peer at the fluttering papers nailed to the board. Most were useless, people looking for misplaced trinkets or threatening their neighbors. However, there was one in the corner that drew your attention, mainly because of the big letters scrawled across the top: WITCHER NEEDED.

You scan the notice quickly, shoving it into your pack before briskly turning and striding towards the edge of town. The contract spoke of a “hoard of flying women, tits sagging in a most horrid manner.” The man who had posted the notice had directed the reader to come to his home, where he would tell them what they needed to know.

As you approach, you see a bearded man with two young children playing as he worked in a small garden. You cross into the yard, the children quieting with your arrival. You clear your throat, the man startling at the noise. He stands and turns to you, taking notice of the two swords on your back and the scar on your brow. 

“I’m here about the contract.” Your voice is even, decades of training and practice behind you to quell any emotion that may be conveyed in your tone. The man’s eyes quickly flick down and back up your body, seemingly confused by your existence. You’re used to it though, everyone is. His eyes settle back on the scar at your brow and it tingles, your hands fighting the urge to scratch at it.

Losing patience, you arch your brow and hold the parchment out to him. He glances down at it and clears his throat. 

“Well, miss, I’m not sure if this is something that you’d really be able to handle…” his voice trailing off as your golden eyes narrowed in disdain. 

“I can assure you,” you sneered, venom dripping from your tongue, “I am plenty capable of taking care of myself. Now, tell me more about what you saw.”

The man at least has the decency to flush, looking askance as he avoided your gaze. His name is Kasper, and as he weaves his story, you know exactly what the contract is asking. There is a dense forest at the base of the mountains where many people go to collect herbs and vegetables. But there is a new nest of “winged things, naked and smelling of rot,” and they attack anyone who ventures to the far edge of the forest. The man says there were about a dozen of them, all of them vicious. They scream and scratch, and they will steal any sort of jewelry or other shiny items with their victim. 

“Seems you’ve been burdened with a harpy nest,” and you can tell that the children are listening intently to every word. “I’d be willing to take care of this for you, but I would like to discuss payment.”

Kasper shifts, scratching the underside of his chin before sighing. “I’ve never seen a Lady Witcher before, but if you feel confident that you can do this…”

“I do, and I am no Lady. I am but a Witcher, one who is here and able to solve your problem.”

You discuss the payment, agreeing on a price that is a few more crowns than the notice had stated, and that you would receive payment upon providing proof of the job being finished. As you turn to leave, one of the children runs to your side. She can’t be more than five summers, and you are briefly reminded of your fever dream full of confusion and betrayal.

“Excuse me, Lady Witcher?” She tugs on the hem of your skirt just above your knee, pulling your attentions back to her. You feel the edge of your mouth turn up slightly, you’ve always been weak at the innocence of children. You stop and kneel, finding yourself at eye level with the little girl. Her younger brother is behind her, clasping onto the leg of his father and bashfully turning his head into it. The girl’s eyes are wide and full of life and joy, and you feel your heart clench for a moment. 

As you peer back at her with your bright eyes that burn with their intensity, you notice that you can’t smell fear. It’s a high, sour smell that permeates the air and follows you almost everywhere you go. But not here, not from this child. She only radiates comfort and trust, and grass. Your nose is especially sensitive to the smell of grass, twitching slightly with the effort to not sneeze onto the girl in front of you. 

“You gotta promise something,” the little girl says, swaying slightly as she speaks, already tired of staying still for too long.

You smile kindly, a movement that you’ve allowed yourself to relearn over the years. There’s not a lot behind it, but it’s better than the empty holes where your feelings used to be. “And what would you have me promise, fauntkin?”

“You gotta promise you’ll be careful, cause if you don’t who’s gonna take care of the scary bird ladies?” she exclaims indignantly. 

You blink in surprise, unsure of how to respond to that. You end up settling on “well, I’ve come back from every hunt I’ve gone on so far, so I have a pretty good feeling about this one.” 

She doesn’t seem convinced, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “And then what? What about when another monster comes here? Will you come back?”

“If you’d like for me to, I will gladly return,” you say, and before you can register what happens she throws her arms around your neck and you stiffen, unused to the blatant display of affection. But as she rests her head on your shoulder, you gently wrap an arm around her waist, returning the gesture as best as you can. Your legs are at an awkward angle and they begin to ache, but you wouldn’t move for all of the coin in the world. It’s been decades since you’ve felt such trust from another person, and you can’t let it go before it’s ready. It’s easy to imagine a life full of love like this, easy and warm.

The girl moves back, her mind wandering to far-off worlds with sunshine and happiness around every corner. You watch her go as you stand, your lungs feeling a bit too tight and your eyes watering just a bit. You turn and head towards the forest, feeling your heart harden back up with every step back into your life.

…

    The dwindling light from the sun casts rays through the leaves of the forest. They flash bright reds and yellows, precarious along the branches that dance on the breeze. The bright colors remind you of the approaching frost, and you decide that as soon as you complete this contract, you’ll move further south. The sooner you get there, the better, so that you can hopefully establish a presence in a town that would be willing to house you during the winter. 

You’re kneeling at a small stream that runs through a clearing in the heart of the forest. You’ve set up a small camp for the evening atop a hill behind you, and you followed the sound of trickling water in the hope that you may get (at least a little) clean. You’ve left your armor with your horse at the camp, leaving you in a light chemise and your trousers, your two swords still strung across your back. You rest your hands in the stream, the cool water cutting through your skin before embracing it, swirling and gliding through your fingers. You take a deep breath in, surrounding yourself with the tranquility of a quiet forest, smelling only the earth and the water and the animals that call this place their home.

The peace did not last long, however, as the wind carried the sound of light, bounding hoofbeats followed closely by heavy, thundering footfalls. You stand, scenting the air as you move. You’re upwind, and all you can gather from what smells you can catch is that they’re alive. No shit, you think to yourself, unsheathing your steel sword and swinging it around your wrist to grip it. The threats are far too close for you to be able to rush back to your camp, so you face the direction they are coming from head-on. You raise your sword across your chest to strike just as the first ‘living thing’ bursts through the thicket into the clearing.

#hollow things #eskel x reader #fem!reader #female witcher #series #my fic

[blueluneacy]

Uccellino

Hey I got an idea about birds after looking at a request i got and now here I am

ill actually do the request later i promise

It’s a Diavolo/reader! It’s yandere, ahha

Warnings: non consensual touching, non con kissing, implied kidnapping, possessive behaviors

Also on AO3!

“You can’t catch me up here, I’m going to live up here and be a bird!” You laughed, looking down at the other boy, who only pouted as he tried to climb the same tree to get at you, his pink hair getting in his eyes as he fell back to the ground.

“Come on, (y/n), you know I can’t get up there.” He called out at you, pouting, and you just laughed, sitting on the branch you were on.

“I guess you’ll just have to learn to fly. Come on, it’s easy, just pull yourself up with that branch over there.” You told your friend, giggling at him as he gripped the branch and tried again, this time making it up into the tree, but lower than you were. He just stared up at you, a small smile on his face.

“You look like a bird up there. You always kind of look like a bird in when you climb trees.” He told you, and you just looked at him, sighing.

“I guess. But it’s not going to be as fun to climb them without you here.” 

“Are you really leaving tomorrow?” He asked you, his face contorted into a terrible frown, and you just shrugged.

“Yeah, we’re going to Naples on the mainland. I’m sure it’ll be lame.” You climbed down from your branch to the one he was on, sitting next to him and looking out at the sea, trying to imagine your new life in the way only an eleven year old could think about. It would be awful, and you would hate all of it. “Who am I going to hang out with now?” He asked, and you shrugged.

“There’s Leonarda. Plus, her dad runs the bakery, so free bread.” You told him, and he just scoffed.

“Yeah, but she’s lame. Who here is as cool as you?” He asked, and you just laughed.

“You got me there. But I have your address still, I’ll just write you. And then, you’ll have my address, so I better get a response.” You told him, and he just sighed, looking at you.

“(Y/n)... I… What I’m trying to say is-”

“Diavolo! Come home, è ora di cena!” You both snapped your head, hearing the calls from Diavolo’s father, and you both just sighed, Diavolo climbing down from the tree and waving.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you off tomorrow morning, okay?” He said, and you nodded, smiling.

“Maybe overnight you could come up with a plan to kidnap me and keep me here.” You told him, and he just laughed.

“Yeah, maybe. See you tomorrow, uccellino!” He said as he ran off home, and you laughed at his dumb nickname, waving. You looked at the waves off the coast of Sardinia, out at the mainland, and just sighed.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. God, it’s been ages since you remembered such a thing. How distant those days were, you moving yourself through a monotonous, but comfortable life. Naples wasn’t as bad as the eleven year old you thought it would be, even ending up getting a job in the city after you graduated. Just thinking about your last day on the island made you feel old. It’s got to be at least twenty years since that happened, right? Time moves far too quickly.

Your snap out of memory lane did let you know something wonderful, however, and that was that it was time to go home. You happily packed up your stuff, hoping no one saw how you did absolutely nothing for the last half an hour, and slunk out of your job with glee. 

You walked the streets of Naples like most locals did, bag close to you and your eyes watching anyone who might be looking. You wished that you could say that living in a big city hadn’t changed you, but you were sadly wrong. Maybe changed wasn’t the right word, but you became a bit more skeptical of others  on the street, knowing that they would happily pickpocket you if given the chance. There were plenty of good people, don’t get it wrong, but it seemed that lots of the bad blocked out the good. Still, what could you do? This was your home now, and you were a bit too stubborn to move. 

You got back to your apartment fine, opening up the door and practically collapsing as you entered your humble abode. God, you wished for something to get you out of that job and to something more interesting, and fast. It was good steady work that paid you well enough, but still. You just moved inside, taking off your shoes and coat, moving to look for something to eat. Oh, to cook, or to order out? The internal struggle that has become your life. You decided, with slight regret, to cook, but in return, you could crack open that nice bottle of wine you had because you felt you deserved it. You were rustling through your cabinets to find something to put together a meal when you heard the door open. You turned, already slightly expecting to be robbed, when you saw… A man. He was taller than you, much larger, and you swallowed slightly, looking up at him. He was in a pinstriped suit, with pink hair tied up into a bun. Something felt… Familiar.

“Um… Can I help you?” You were in a defensive position, your hand as close to the knife block as it could be without being threatening. God forbid this man attack you. But, rather than do anything normal, like state his purpose here or even threaten you. But, all he did was laugh, stepping into the house.

“Do you really not recognize me, uccellino? I didn’t think I looked that old.” He said, and the pieces clicked together. You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Diavolo…? Is that really you?” You asked, and he just smiled, and oh, how that smile was the same as the one from when you were kids. He held open his arms, and that was all the signal you needed to run into them, just like you did when you were kids.

“Oh Diavolo, I can’t believe you’re here, how are you? What have you been up to?” You asked, just babbling on and on about your own daily life. He seemed to give vague answers when you asked him questions, telling you he had ‘business’ in the city, and refused to elaborate on what it was. Still, something was tugging at you. There was something about Diavolo, something in his eyes that didn’t quite feel right. 

“Diavolo… Do you want something to eat? You look absolutely exhausted.” You questioned, and he actually perked up at that.

“Oh, no thank you, I won’t be staying much longer, I promise.” Diavolo told you, and you just sighed. You got up and started boiling some pasta. You still boiled enough for him, telling yourself that you would convince him to eat if it was the last thing you did.

“How’s your father, by the way? It’s been ages since I called Leonarda, goodness…” You sighed, not realizing the heavy silence you brought over the room.

“I guess you didn’t hear about the fire.” Diavolo said, and another thing clicked in your head, a small memory, the tears in your eyes when your mother told you the news.

“The fire… But, Diavolo, that can’t be right…” You mumbled, shaking your head. Your hands were shaking, something was wrong here.

“I was told that you died in that fire, Diavolo. What’s going on?” You turned around to look at him, only to find that he had gotten up, walking up to you. You gulped as you noticed the two of you were only centimeters apart, leaning back slightly against the counter to try and create some distance.

“Uccellino… Does it matter much? I’m here now. With you.” Diavolo told you, leaning in slightly. You swallowed as you looked into his eyes, those vibrant eyes that made you shudder. They no longer held the kindness you knew as a child, the sweet boy who would ask to play house when you were young or make daisy chains. This was a man, and one you were starting to become afraid of.

“It’s been twenty years Diavolo, we’re strangers now. I-It was very nice to meet you, but I have documents to go over and fax, and I would really appreciate-” You started to try and reason with the man, only for him to close the already tiny gap between the two of you, pressing up against you and running a hand through your hair.

“You won’t have to do that anymore. I’ll provide for both of us and any family you could possibly dream of. Remember how you used to talk about having a family? I remember it. Everyday, I’ve thought of you.” He told you, humming into your ear, and you just gulped, harshly pushing Diavolo away. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t want a part in it. I never had those sorts of feelings for you in the first place. You don’t know the first thing about me now!” You told him, chiding him as if he were still a child. As if that would do anything to deter him.

At your words, Diavolo just… Laughed. He laughed at you, right in your face, and you felt yourself getting angry. How dare he just come into your house and pull shit like this, it was borderline harassment.

“Oh, mio tesoro… I don’t think you understand how all this works.” He told you, and you were about to very well give Diavolo one big piece of your mind, when you found yourself pinned against the counter, writhing under him. You didn’t even see the man move, or very well feel your wrists gathered up in his hands and get pinned above his head.

“D-Diavolo, let go of me!” You cried out, but he held firm. You were no match for Diavolo’s superior strength, finding your squirming only to spur him. He leaned into the crook of your neck, and you shuddered as you felt him start to leave harsh kisses on you.

“You couldn’t control leaving me then, I understand, dolcezza… But now that I’ve found you again, I won’t be letting you go anytime soon…” Diavolo told you, and you just gasped as he bite down and sucked on your skin. That would certainly leave a bruise. He leaned away to look over your expression, a mixture of both shock and horror about what was happening. He sighed, using his thumb to swipe over your lip.

“How cute… My uccellino… All mine, at last…” He sighed dreamily, and you just grit your teeth, looking at your former friend with such intense disgust it could sour milk.

“I am not your little bird anymore.” You spat at Diavolo, and he just sighed again, moving to run his thumb along your cheek. It was such a tight touch, as if he were checking if you were really there.

“Maybe not yet.” Diavolo said, leaning in so that he was so so close to your lips, just barely touching them. You felt his hot breath on you and you shuddered, looking over that dark wax that coated his lips and thoroughly marked your neck.

“But it’s not too hard to clip a bird’s wings.” Diavolo practically whispered to you before pressing his lips against yours, forcing you into a rough bruising kiss, full of desire and passion and fulfilled longing. Finally, the person he had been searching for for so long was in his hands, and a little thing like your cries wasn’t going to get him off of you. You saw his smile as Diavolo pulled off of you, and you swallowed. It was the same smile as you had seen all those years ago, but the kindness you once saw it in it was no longer there. Was it ever there in the first place? You couldn’t remember. Maybe everything you did remember was a lie in the first place. It didn’t really matter at the moment. After all, Diavolo only had one thought on his mind.

He had finally caught his little bird, and he was going to make certain it couldn’t fly away again.

#jjba/reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #diavolo/reader #diavolo x reader #yandere/reader #yandere x reader #yandere fic #my writing #mine #writing #sfw

[brownstonearmy]

2020-09-05: Juiced! (Part 4)

August 6 (Thursday late afternoon)

Today's adventure picks up in the late afternoon after a perfectly average workday. Earlier in the day, Spleenifer received a surprise "gift" from the aspiring necromancer from the previous adventure: a gently-used display model of the spinning princess casket that she had been eyeing the other day. It even has the label attached! "The rave from the grave that puts the FUN in funeral!" it reads. Perhaps this is an indicator that the wannabe-necromancer is trying to turn over a new leaf and make better life (unlife?) decisions?

After clocking out for the evening, the party convenes at Jangles' house to discuss what they should do about Zaribeth Quickfingers. Jangles mentions that Zaribeth is a successful businessperson that is probably using her various business operations to hide something shady. Lucky needs clarification on several points in the discussion because it gets difficult to differentiate between regular idioms and innuendos in this group. If Zaribeth is running a shady operation of any real significance, there's likely to be some sort of bookkeeping or paper trail somewhere that can be used as evidence. If the party can find that, they stand a real chance of thwarting Zaribeth's plans.

But before the conversation can conclude, Jangles shushes the party. Someone's tripped the magical alarms on the perimeter of Jangles's house! Q (who goes as Razzle today), tells Jangles to go hide just as the lock to the front door clicks open and several muffled whispers reach the back room where the party is hiding out.

Razzle starts a diversion with a stellar performance mourning the loss of their lover, Jangles. Tears flow, along with plenty of wailing and gnashing of teeth. The intruders weren't expecting anyone to be here, but they try to play it cool and announce that they are police who are collecting evidence as part of a continuing investigation against Jangles.

Lucky grabs a jar of fart powder from Jangles's work desk and turns herself invisible. She creeps out into the front room and sees three people in street clothes poking around. These folks sure don't look like members of the constabulary, so Lucky tosses a cloud of the fart powder into the air so it covers the trespassers. Spleenifer grabs some more fart powder for good measure, because you can never have too much flatulence in this game.

Two of the three get enough of the powder in their mouths to cause a coughing fit that quickly turns into a belching fit before progressing into a continuous burp. They grasp their throats to help air get in, but it's only flowing in one direction right now. Don't get this stuff in your lungs, folks, because there's only one way for the gas to escape, ya dig? The one who avoided the worst of the powder drags his companions out of the house and tries to escape from whence they came.

Razzle, Lucky, and Spleenifer follow the three amigos back to a shady-looking warehouse. Lucky is still invisible, and Razzle is sneaking through the shadows like a ninja. But poor tall Spleenifer, clad in noisy chainmail takes the most direct path to gain access to warehouse: asking politely to be let in (though only doing so at the suggestion of an invisible Lucky). The guard informs her that Yance is the only other person allowed in the warehouse aside from the lumpers and dockhands.

Yance is the only way to get in? LUCKY ACCEPTS THIS CHALLENGE. She casts Seeming and now Razzle is Yance and Lucky is Razzle. It's like Inception, but with layers of people instead of dreams. Anyway, Razzle-Yance walks up to the guard and asks to be let in along with his companions, Lucky-Razzle and Tall Lady. Yes, Spleenifer is introduced as Tall Lady, because you have to use a fake name when infiltrating a shady warehouse. That's just how it is, folks; I don't make the rules!

Several people of questionable moral integrity are standing around, and I know you're not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but you'd understand if you looked at these covers. One person is sitting on a stack of crates with a box full of rings that he seems to be counting, while the others merely eye the new arrivals with disinterest.

Razzle-Yance makes an executive decision to enter one of the rooms just off the main warehouse floor, silently hoping that it doesn't contain Original-Yance. Good news, there's just more crates and a desk in here! Lucky-Razzle asks Tall Lady to stand watch for a moment "for reasons" while she shuts the door. Lucky-Razzle's actual reasons are to loot the room, but she starts making loud suggestive sounds as a decoy. Razzle-Yance joins in the charade as they both inspect crates for anything of value.

During a particularly strenuous round of bedroom vocalizations, Razzle-Yance hears a thump inside one of the desk drawers, despite not touching the desk. Inside the drawer is a pile various papers and a false bottom that reveals a leatherbound journal with only 10 pages. Lucky-Razzle finds a pile of assorted spices that naturally get relocated to her satchel. And in case it becomes relevant to the plot, here's what she snagged:

Powdered pecans

White Pepper

Anise

Nutmeg

Cinnamon

Cloves

Cardamon

Nutmeg

When Razzle-Yance opens the journal, "Hey where are we on the deal?" is the only thing written on the first page. But before they can close the journal, more writing scrawls on the page. ""Did you find it yet? We need leverage soon."

Back in the central part of the warehouse, Tall Lady is still standing guard. One of the warehouse guards saunters over and tries to talk her up. Tall Lady responds by discussing at length the pain in her hip when waking up. But that just leaves room for the sleazy warehouse to try a pickup line. He's a hip specialist, you know! And he'd be glad to take a look at it in the other back room if she's interested.

Surprisingly, Tall Lady agrees, but not for the reasons you might think. The clueless john thinks he's gonna get a tall order of Tall Lady hanky panky, but Spleenifer would like for him to drink a tall glass of Respecting Women Juice. Of course, things do not go according to plan for either of them.

Inside the other back room, Holden Harcourt and Yance Elbereth are huddled around a table discussing business matters. Yance hasn't been able to find Brynnan's ring, and Yance lost most of his leverage with Brynnan by trading the horn to him. Holden and Yance both turn to the interlopers. Holden remembers Tall Lady from his previous arrangement to return Trashpit to the sewers in exchange for finishing the work of relocating the treasure. Perhaps Tall Lady could be a potential ally, and naturally he explains this in monologue form. Important talking points follow:

Holden wants to be the wealthiest person in town

Lawrence Stout cheated him out of a business deal, and Holden wants him bankrupted

Maybe Tall Lady and friends might be interested in a strategic partnership

Tall Lady extends her hand to make the deal. Holden does the same and a handshake happens. BUT THAT'S NOT ALL! Tall Lady stomps on Holden's foot and dumps her share of the fart powder directly into his mouth. Holden starts gasping, then belching followed by the signature Continuous Burp. We don't negotiate with terrorists in this group!

A crack of lightning blasts through the northern wall of the warehouse and everyone's favorite douchelord walks into the fray. He has no quarrel with the party today, but Brynnan knows that Yance and Holden have been conspiring against him to find the ring. They won't find it, because it's in a secure location, but Brynnan's been doing some scrying of his own and knows where Holden keeps a certain important journal. Mind you, Holden can't stop burping and Brynnan casts Dispel Magic on him. Not be polite or anything, just to get Holden to shut up long enough for Brynnan to do his own Bad Guy Monologue.

Razzle-Yance is sneaking out the back door before things get too heated, but an invisible Lucky-Razzle is still in the room where the journal was recovered. Brynnan struts over to the drawer and rips out the false bottom... and the journal is still there? Lucky-Razzle used her minor illusion abilities to conjure up an illusory duplicate of the journal. Except she doesn't know what's actually in the real journal so she filled its pages with diary entries about Hilaria.

Holden interrupts Brynnan's monologue and tells him that the journal he has isn't what he thinks it is. It's just the way Holden and his boss communicate. Brynnan throws a tantrum and blasts a hole in the ceiling with another lightning bolt. Then he casts Chain Lightning on the occupants of the warehouse.

Lucky-Razzle unleashes a wild magic counterspell to stop the destructive lightning and succeeds. The lightning bolts are replaced with puppies that are running around and doing other regular puppy things. Brynnan grabs Holden by the collar and flies through the hole in the ceiling. He's gonna make sure Lawrence Stout bankrupts Holden, and that Holden is alive to see it. And then he drops Holden, who crashes into crates below.

But Lucky-Razzle has yet another trick up her sleeve! She breaks out the Mizzium Apparatus and uses it to cast Vicious Mockery on Brynnan. Brynnan’s delicate psyche takes the full brunt of the mockery and the insults rattle around enough to make it difficult for Brynnan to keep track of everything in the heat of the battle.

Original-Yance flips up the hood of his cloak and tries to sneak out before Brynnan notices him. Bird wings sprout from Original-Yance's cloak and he flies up and away. Or at least he would have done so, had Brynnan not cast Wall of Force in the air right above Original-Yance and the resulting collision knocked him out and sent straight to a hot date with the cold ground.

Lucky-Razzle runs over to Original-Yance and shouts "Lucky!" as though Original-Yance was actually an illusion worn by Lucky. I'm not gonna call him Lucky-Original-Yance, but only because there's already a lot of hyphens in the names from this adventures. This is some quality misdirection work on Lucky-Razzle's part, and Brynnan falls for the ruse.

Razzle-Yance is fleeing through the eastern alley, and Brynnan's aerial perspective allows to see the person he thinks is the real Yance trying to escape. He blasts Razzle-Yance with a Cone of Cold, but they're still standing. Brynnan announces that he's going to mercifully let Yance live because he still has the potential to acquire more artifacts for Brynnan.

Tall Lady whips her casket out like a beyblade and rushes into action to save her companions. Lucky-Razzle and Original-Yance hop in, though Original-Yance requires some assistance because he is clearly suffering from the effects of a concussion. The casket drifts and weaves through narrow streets and alleyways as Brynnan gives chase.

Razzle-Yance steps through a Dimension Door to end up in front of the mayor's house and divert Brynnan's attention. The casket crew are dodging boxes and uneven cobblestones to try to get Original-Yance some medical attention from Mom at the fighter's guild, but Brynnan is gaining on them. In a last-ditch effort to force Brynnan to retreat, Lucky-Razzle polymorphs a passing bird into a giant Roc. Continuing the chase proves to be too much effort for Brynnan, and he nopes out of there with prayer hands and a teleport.

Mom fixes Original-Yance back up, though he's still gonna have a headache in the morning. Original-Yance is offered Kalani's old cot at SHART HQ to sleep off his injuries. After all, he could be a valuable source of information.

While all this is happening, Razzle-Yance is running back to their apartment for safety. Remember to secure your own oxygen mask before attempting to assist others, as the traditional medieval saying goes. Once Razzle-Yance makes it to safety, the journal thumps in their pocket. They take out the journal and see that there is more writing on the page: "Heard sounds of a lightning fight, everything okay? I think we should relocate the books to Salem's in the meantime. In the usual box."

And on that little note, the adventure concludes for the evening. Stay tuned next time for more!

#shits and giggles #Dungeons and Dragons #adventure log #warehouse #fishdavidson #negotiation

[uas-fics]

Title: The Cool and the Uncool Summary: Kevin's not a bad boyfriend. He and Red get along so well! So why won't she let them be seen together? Is he really that uncool? Rating: G Ships: Revin For @revinweek  I combined like day 2-5 prompts for this because I wouldn't have time to actually make quality content otherwise, so it counts for all those days. ^^;

You can also read it on AO3

---

Kevin burst his hand away from his head.

"Those special effects blew my mind!" He exclaimed, excitedly swinging their hands. "Did you see the laser fire? So cool!"

Red nodded in agreement. "I know! And the costumes were so realistic. If I didn't know better, I would have thought they hired real aliens." She sighed. "We've come so far from actors throwing themselves around a set to show turbulence."

The two waited at the crosswalk as a line of cars slowly rolled by. The evening flow of traffic would make walking Red home a bit of a chore on any other day, but Kevin didn't care this time.

They had been counting down the days to the movie's premiere. With the influx of superhero movies lately, a good old fashion sci-fi space adventure was mana from heaven for them.

It wasn't that either of them hated superhero movies. On the contrary, Kevin loved Marvel's movies. When he heard the plot of the new Thor movie, he dug through his collection of comics for the mini-series where Jane became Thor while Thor went soulsearching and read them three times over in his excitement.

And Red had a deep fondness for DC's movies and comics. She could quote the Joker's joke about the inmates and the flashlight from 'The Killing Joke' verbatim. She saw Wonder Woman five times when the movie came out and even dressed up as her for the Halloween party at school. She looked so cool and awesome, way better than the other Wonder Women in their class.

But there inlined the problem. Except for Wonder Woman, DC's movies sucked. Their comics were good enough and the animated universe from the nineties was awesome, but those are nothing compared to the glory that was Marvel's extended universe.

Whenever Kevin pointed this out, they would argue about it. They even broke up for a whole three days because of it!

This one-shot sci-fi film was just what the relationship doctors ordered.

"So, what did you think the ending meant?" Red asked. "Did the captain die or do you think her cryogenic status will hold out until she reaches New Earth?"

Kevin tilted his head in thought. "Well, I think she'll make it. The technical experts did say it was able to make it there, or nearly there. She might wake up a few days before, but that will give her time to draw up a report to give to the Emporer of New Earth"

"But it was damaged, remember? In the fight with the alien--" Red froze. With a small gasp, she tore her hand away from Kevin's and shoved it in her pocket.

Kevin furrowed his brow and looked down at his mitten-covered hand. Did he have a hard candy from his pocket stuck to it again? No? They why would Red drop his hands?

"Hey! Red!"

Oh, right.

Bebe trotted up to her, completely ignoring Kevin, which he was fine with. He put his hands in his own pockets and looked away, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk.

"Bebe, hi, what are you doing? I thought you went out with Clyde?" She looked around her towards Tweak Bros down the street. Kevin looked too, but he didn't see Clyde or anyone else in their class near the coffee shop.

Bebe scoffed. "We did but then your stupid cousin showed up." She wrinkled her nose. "He dared Clyde to see how many muffins he could eat and Clyde ended up puking on the floor."

Red recoiled. "Eeeew! Why are boys so gross?"

"I know, right?" Bebe looped her arm around Red's. "Do you wanna come to my house? I got the latest issue of Preteen Girl's Dream in and there is a quiz in there you just have to take to find out what your favorite cereal is based on your zodiac--and there is a recipe for moss graffiti that I think Wendy would love to try. Oh and an interview with--"

As Bebe rattled off the contents of the magazine, Red looked over her shoulder at Kevin with an apologetic smile. Kevin sighed but nodded anyway. He gave her a small wave then trudged across the clear crosswalk home.

---

Not even Star Trek could lift his spirits. Kevin slumped down in the couch, wishing the cushions would open up and swallow him whole. Maybe take him to a fantasy world with characters that look oddly like his friends and family where he would beat the odds and become a hero to the people and defeat the bad guy. He'd loved that.

Then when he got back to his world after being king and loved by all, Red wouldn't be ashamed of dating him and he could be happy here, too!

As the credits of the last episode on the disk rolled, Kevin had yet to be swallowed up.

Giving up on that possibility, he rolled to his side, staring at the title screen playing clips from the show.

He didn't get it. Did it matter that much that he wasn't a cool kid like she was? Didn't dating her move him up in the social pecking order? Or did he just pull her down?

Kevin sighed. What could he do to make himself cooler? He stopped wearing his Klingon ears to school and only made a minimum of three references in conversations not about sci-fi movies.  Didn't that erase enough of his uncool status?

A thought hit him.

Clyde and Craig were both nerds too. They liked sci-fi. They made references. They were cool kids. He just needed to find out what they did!

"Moooom!" Kevin yelled towards the kitchen. "Can I go visit Clyde? It'll only be for an hour. Please? I promise I'll text you if I'm late."

From the kitchen, pots and pans rattled and the sink turned on. Just as Kevin pulled in a breath to yell again, his mom replied, "Alright, you may. Just be careful and back before dinner. We're having meatloaf."

"Thanks, Mom!"

Kevin tried to jump to his feet, only to have his heels tangle in the throw blanket and fall to his face into the carpet.

---

Clyde put his hand on his hip and eyed Kevin up and down.

"What's up?" He asked. "You look out of breath."

Kevin nodded, hands on his knees. He ran the whole way to Clyde's house so he could have as much time as possible before dinner to talk.

"Can I," He panted, "come in? I have to ask you a question, then I have to run and ask Craig a question too."

Clyde stepped aside to let him. "Craig's here with me. You can ask him now if you want."

"That's perfect!" Kevin straightened up.

"We're in the living room watching Buzzfeed Unsolved." Clyde waved for him to follow.

In the Donovan's living room, Craig reclined on the couch, chuckling at whatever the hosts had said a moment prior.

"Hey, dude," Clyde leaned over the back of the couch, "Kevin Stoley is here. He has a question."

Craig twisted around to give Kevin an uninterested look.

"Yeah?" He nodded. "What?"

Kevin opened his mouth, then shut it. He squirmed under Craig and Clyde's gazes.

"Um, I, I need to know, ah, um," He chewed his lip, "how...how are you two so cool? You like the same things I do, but no one thinks you two are nerds."

Craig snorted and rolled back to the laptop set up on the coffee table. Clyde covered his laugh with his fist.

"Oh, wow, really, Kevin?" Clyde shook his head. "That's what you ran over here to ask?"

"Yes?  It's very important." Kevin wrung his hands together.

Clyde threw his arm over his shoulder. He patted his chest with a shake of his head.

"Oh, Kevin, my friend, for a nerd you're not that smart," Clyde chided, "Coolness isn't something you can just learn. It's something either you have or you don't."

"But...but what makes you cool? Why do your girlfriends like to be with you?" Kevin paused, then corrected, "Why do your partners like to be with you?"

Without turning around, Craig asked, "Are you asking this because you want a girlfriend? There are plenty of girls closer to your social standing that would date you, dude." He paused the video to get a better look at a picture of some sort of creature.

A blush crept up his face. "N-no, I, ah, just tell me. Why do people like you? Why does Bebe stay with you?"

Craig chuckled, earning a glare from Clyde.

"Weeeeell," Clyde bobbed his head side to side, "girls like me because I'm super handsome and charismatic. Bebe thinks I'm the best boy ever--no matter what happened today." Clyde flipped Craig the bird, which he returned without looking up from the laptop.

"Yeah, well, Tweek likes me because...uuuuh..." Craig straightened up as he thought. "I don't know, man. Fate or something? I'm ten times hotter than Clyde?" He propped himself up on the couch to question, "What girl do you want to date so bad? All the cool girls don't seem like your...type."

"There's not a girl!" Kevin lied, "I, I just want to be cool."

"Why? You have friends. You don't sit alone at lunch. No one bullies you more than anyone else." Craig ticked off on his fingers. "You're even on the basketball team. What's the point?"

Craig's probing stare made sweat spring up on Kevin's skin before narrowing his eyes. Even Clyde started giving him the suspicious look.

"Fine! It's Red!" He blurted out. "We're dating but she doesn't want anyone to know because I'm not as cool as her and I just really want to be able to tell everyone what a cool girlfriend I have!"

Kevin slapped his hand over his mouth and backed out of Clyde's grasp.

"Oh, shoot! Please, you can't tell anyone. She'll be mad at me."

Clyde's mouth hung open while Craig wrinkled his nose.

"Eeeeeew, gross." Craig stuck out his tongue as Clyde demanded, "How?!"

"I don't know?"

"Red is...and you are...but Red is hot!" Clyde gasped. "She's cool and I dated her once. Why would someone like her date someone like you?"

Kevin started, "Well, we both like sci-fi and comics and stuff, and I was at the library and we wanted to check out the same book and--"

"But she's hot!" Clyde cut in.

Craig jumped off the couch. He walked beside Clyde to grabbed hold of the back of his shirt and pull it over his head, leaving his friend tangled in cotton fabric.

"Shut up about my cousin!" Craig snapped. "She's not hot. She's a loser and a nerd, just like Kevin. They're perfect for each other."

"Red is not a loser!" Kevin defended. "And neither am I. Just tell me what to do to make her ok with being seen with me."

Clyde disentangled himself from his shirt with a suck of breath. He smoothed out his hair and readjusted his clothes.

"Ok, you know what, yeah, yeah, ok, I'll help you be cool," Clyde proclaimed. "We just need to fix your hair, and your voice, and your face..."

Craig took his cellphone from his pocket as Kevin asked what was wrong with his hair, voice, and face.  He took a few steps backwards before heading into the kitchen.

---

Bebe finished tallying up the questionnaire with a flourish of her pen. Red rested her chin in her hands as she laid on her stomach on Bebe's bed.

"Ok, so, according to this quiz, your perfect guy is a hunky scientist," Bebe exclaimed. "How sweet, Red. You'll be like Marrie Currie!"

"Dying of radiation poisoning?" Red laughed, taking the test to make sure Bebe tallied right.

"No, like, working with your man and winning the Nobel prize in science or something. You're really good at science." Bebe elaborated.

"I'm not that good," Red rolled her eyes. She was good at science, actually, very good. It's just so interesting and cool, but if she owned up to that, Bebe might think she was bragging.

"Yes, you are!" She pushed her shoulder. "You're going to do some cool space science things, and I'll discover how to talk to dolphins, and we'll both have really hot hubbies standing by us."

"You mean you'll have Clyde eating all the tiny quiches at the ceremony dinner?" Red teased.

Bebe put her hand to her chest in offense. She opened her mouth to snap something at her when Red's phone rang.

She held up a finger and took it out. She raised an eyebrow. Why was Craig calling her?

"One second." She held the phone to her ear. "Hello? Craig? What do you want?"

"You're dating Kevin Stoley?"

Her heart stopped in her chest. Her gaze whipped towards Bebe. Luckily, Bebe had moved to her desk with the magazine and was copying something down in her notebook.

"What are you talking about?" Red hissed, twisting to sit up with her back away from Bebe.

"Kevin? Kevin Stoley? The nerd? The only Chinese kid we had until like last year? Cosplays Spock every chance he gets?" Craig replied in a deadpan. "Your boyfriend, apparently?"

Red forced a breath through her teeth. "Who told you that?"

"Kevin did. I'm at Clyde's. He came running in demanding to know how to be cool. I--I mean Clyde bullied him into telling us why," Craig explained. "He said he wanted to be cool so you wouldn't be embarrassed by him."

Red's cheeks burned. Hopping to her feet, she told Bebe she needed to take the call to the hall. Bebe nodded understandingly before taking her own phone out to snap a picture of a magazine page.

Once out in the hall, Red demanded, "You bullied him?!"

"I didn't. Didn't you hear me? Clyde did."

She could hear the eye roll in his tone.

"So you are dating then?" he continued.

Red looked up and down the hall then whispered, "Yeah? We are. He's really sweet and smart, and if you keep picking on him, I swear I'll get you, Craig Tucker."

"Wow, breaking out the last name. What are you, Bertha Red, my mom?" Craig mocked. He knew using her first and middle name like that would get under her skin.

"Shut up!" Red ordered. "Just, urgh! What's going on? Is Kevin still there?"

Craig hummed. "Yeah, he is. Clyde is giving him a list of what he can do to be cool like he is."

Red winced. Cool like Clyde? Clyde wasn't really cool. Sure, he acted cool and confident and brave, but everyone knew that was a lie. He cried at the drop of a hat and wouldn't stand up for himself if his friends weren't standing with him. Clyde was just as big of a nerd as Kevin. Why would Kevin ever thing to get tips on coolness from him?

Craig spoke, filling up the silence her stunned reaction caused, "Do you really think Kevin will drag your standing down that far? How do you know dating you wouldn't bring him up?."

The sound of a refrigerator being open came from the other end of the phone, followed by Craig calling to ask Clyde if he could have some orange juice.

Red squirmed against the wall as if Craig was in the hall staring her down. She wasn't sure what would happen if she told everyone she was dating someone as uncool as Kevin.

When Heidi started dating Cartman, she became a laughing stock. Though Kevin wasn't nearly as terrible as Cartman, the last thing Red wanted was to be mocked for liking a nerd.

"You wouldn't understand," she finally replied.

"No, I get it." Craig shifted the phone. "Tweek wasn't all that cool when we started dating, but he's really cool now. I bet it'll be the same thing, at least if you keep Kevin from making too many Star Wars references."

Red groaned. "That's not the same. You and Tweek are cute together because you two are, like, opposites. It's like a dog and a cat playing together!"

Craig swallowed some orange juice on the other end. "Wait, what? Am I the cat? Or the dog?"

"It doesn't matter." Red began to pace, twiddling with the ends of her hair. "We aren't different enough! It's not cute. It's weird that I would be interested in him."

"But not for him to be interested in you?"

"No, because I'm cool and popular."

"Clyde called you 'hot,' and I corrected him that you are a loser and a nerd." Craig teased. "Aren't I a good cousin?"

"Screw you! Stop making fun of me." Red threw her hand up as she came to the end of the hall. "I want to tell people we're dating, but I can't!" She spun on her heels to head back towards Bebe's bedroom. "No one can know that Kevin and I are dat...ing."

Bebe's mouth hung open. The magazine fell from her hands to the floor, falling open to the future spouse quiz.

"You have a boyfriend?!" Bebe gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Shoot!" Red flinched back.

"Red?" Craig's voice almost sounded concerned.

"Craig, I need to go. Talk to you later." Red went to end the call, only to quickly add, "Also go make Clyde stop before he gets Kevin thinking vomiting and mosquitoes are cool."

Before Craig could reply, she clicked end and shove the phone into her pocket.

"You have a boyfriend?" Bebe repeated. "Who? Kevin who? Not Kevin McCormick? He's, like, thirteen and smells like tobacco."

"No, I, um..." Red wracked her brain for a lie but came up with nothing that would be even close to believable. "It's not Kevin McCormick."

Bebe bound up to her. She wrapped her fingers around her arm, buzzing with excitement.

"Then who? Is it that Kevin from fifth grade? Not that Kevin from Middle Park?" Bebe's eyes grew as she searched Red up and down as if she might have a sign on her chest with Kevin's full name.

"Bebe, please, drop it," Red begged. "It's a secret."

"I can keep a secret." Bebe grinned. When Red didn't answer, her face fell in confusion. "What's wrong? Is he a," her voice dropped down, "an adult?"

"No!" Red pushed her away. "I am not dating a grown-up! That's gross."

"Then who is it?" Bebe demanded to know. "You can't just say something like you want to tell people you two are dating but can't. Who is it? The only other Kevin I can think of is..."

She trailed off, brows furrowed.

"Kevin Stoley. Are you dating Kevin Stoley?"

Red's shoulders slumped and she accepted the inevitable.

"Ummm, yes," she admitted, waiting for Bebe to start mocking her for dating Kevin.

"Wow." Bebe pursed her lips. "Kevin Stoley."

The repugnance in Bebe's tone made Red's stomach twist. She had expected it, of course, but instead of making her ashamed, she felt angry.

"He's not that bad!" Red snapped. "Kevin is a sweet guy. He's creative and passionate about what he likes." Red pointed a finger into Bebe's collar bone, moving into her personal space as she spoke. "And he lent me all his 'FlashPoint' comics when the website I was reading them on gave my dad's laptop a virus. He's just as good of a boyfriend as Clyde is!"

Bebe held up her hands in defense. "I never said he wasn't."

Red narrowed her eyes incredulously, taking a step back.

Bebe fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Look, if you want to date him, cool, whatever. Why does it matter?"

Furrowing her brows, Red frowned. "You don't think it's weird on me for dating him? He's a nerd who likes Star Trek and wore a Spock cosplay for a week to school."

Bebe rolled her eyes. "Yeah? So?" She shrugged. "Clyde brought a jar of mosquitoes with him everywhere for two weeks. Pointy alien elf ears are nothing compared to that."

"Klingon." Red corrected automatically. "They're Klingon ears."

This time Bebe did roll her eyes, but, Red didn't feel any malcontent from it. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as she had always envisioned.

---

Kevin sighed as he trudged up the school steps. His cool lessons didn't get all that far before Craig can out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice, eyed Kevin up and down again, then proclaimed he was a lost cause and Clyde was wasting his time.

Before Kevin could stop him, he'd grabbed Clyde and drug him against his will back to the couch to finish watching their video.

While Kevin did enjoy learning about the Moth Man, he couldn't help feel he wasted his time. He didn't learn a thing about being cool or how to fix his face, hair, or voice.

"Hey. Hey, Kevin."

He paused and looked over his shoulder to see Dougie rushing up to him.

"Oh, greetings, Dougie." He flashed him a Volcan Salute, which Dougie returned. Dougie vibrated with contagious excitement.

"Did you go see the movie this weekend?" He asked. "I did. I went with my mom and Butters. I liked the music and how the ships look. What did you like?"

Kevin's uplifted mood fell as he remembered what happened right after the movie.

"The lasers, I guess," He muttered, looking at his shoes. One of the laces was double knotted and the other wasn't. He'd have to fix that before class--like an uncool nerd.

A hand slipped around his hand, taking him from his thoughts.

"My favorite part was how the captain defeated the alien with the water and electricity," Red chirped, leaning against Kevin's side, nearly toppling him over with her greater size.

Dougie turned a shocked, wide-eyed face to Kevin. Kevin kept his own shocked, wide-eyed face fixed on Red.

What was she doing? Why was she holding his hand in front of everyone outside of the school? He could feel all the eyes of the other kids on them and hear their whispers.

"R-Red?" Kevin stammered. "You're holding my hand."

"Well, duh," she threw her hair over her shoulder, "we are dating."

A collective gasp came from all the students around them. Red turned a sharp glare towards them, and everyone spun around. Kevin half expected them to start whistling nonchalantly.

Dougie took a step back. He waved goodbye to Kevin before bolting off, leaving the two alone to talk.

"We are, but, you don't like..." he shook his head. "Aren't I too uncool?"

She nodded. "Yeah, you are, but it's ok now."

Kevin frowned and looked down at himself. Did something change since yesterday? Did he get super buff and handsome while he slept last night? Maybe he did go to a fantasy world last night and just didn't remember, but when he looked down, he didn't see anything different, except the little stain from the meatloaf last night on his stomach.

"It is?" Kevin asked. "Why?"

"Well, I just figured it was stupid to act like I did. It wasn't fair to you, either." Red explained, squeezing his hand. "Also, I told Bebe last night, and Bebe said she wanted to double date with you and Clyde, so you can make sure Clyde doesn't do something silly or embarrassing so it doesn't matter anymore. Bebe has my back, and because she does, so do all the other girls."

Kevin furrowed his brow. "I don't get it."

She smiled softly at him. "It's ok. You don't need to know how all the science works to enjoy Star Trek."

He still didn't fully get it but decided to employ his suspension of disbelief towards the inner workings of girl social structure.

"Oh, well, if that's ok with you, then it's ok with me." Kevin felt giddy. He could walk through the school halls hand in hand with his girlfriend. They could talk about science or Star Trek in the middle of recess.

He dared to give Red a kiss on the cheek. To his surprise, she blushed but didn't get mad at him. With a  laugh, Red began to pull him down the hallway.

#Revin week #revin #sp red #kevin stoley #craig tucker #Clyde Donovan #bebe stevens #one-shot

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 15

Prompt:  A sweet Anon was kind enough to hand me the challenge of a medieval village, a book, and the song  “Foreigner's God” by Hozier. Now, I’ve already used that song, but I love Hozier (who doesn’t?) so I wanted to stick with him….which eventually I didn’t so here’s “Pack up the Louie” by Caro Emerald. Sorry about that, Anon, this ended up very different than either of us probably intended, still I hope you like it! Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Swearing as usual, bit of angst, some mystery? No lemons this time, but just wait for the next chapter :D A/N: This has not been proof read! Might do that at some point and re-upload, but I’ve missed writing for fun and sharing it with you <3

Tricks

It was paradise. Travelling from one place to the other, cities and countries you’d only ever dreamed of getting to see one you made the score that’d help you retired. Retire? Your old life of planning heists and dodging private security guards was far from the life you were living with Loki. Budapest had been the start where the god had seen your curiosity of the long-lost worlds, and so he brought you along to every Mediterranean Eden. You would never tire of it, listening to him tell about historical events as if he’d been there. He probably had, actually.

Some part of you knew the sweet life would end. Life does that to good times. It takes what’s good and right and stubs it out in the dust like a half-smoked cigarette, lipstick stain still on the filter. And if it wasn’t something tearing joy away, then you’d already realized the inevitable: Loki talked about history as though it was yesterday, because for him it was. Time moved differently for him than it did for you.

Why had you never thought of that before?

In the haze of warm sunshine, champagne and lazy kisses up your thighs, the two of you had created a little pocket of bliss outside of time. You were addicted to it. Never wanted the rush to end. And so that became your biggest fear because damn you if you almost hadn’t already. But the silver tongue and warm heart in a chest of ice could stem the nightmares as you’d fall asleep, sated in all manners of the word, in Loki’s arms.

The clock rings and it’s half past eleven Can’t believe it but the time just flies

Waking, sight bleary even with the soft light coming through the dark canvas above, you find the coolness of the god’s arm and chest still around you, but nothing else fits with your expectations. You’d fallen asleep in a bed with silk, a room of marble and open windows overlooking València and the sea…that’s all gone now.

It takes a few attempts to rub the sleep from your eyes, time where you become too aware of how scratchy the coarse wool and mismatched furs are against your bare skin. No, this is nothing like where you fell asleep.

“L-loki?” Twisting, you not only face your god, but another one too. “Loki, wake up.”

From somewhere under the mass of black hair, there’s a grunt in approval. Much can be said about him, but your lover loves a lazy morning. This time, however, he must sense something’s going on, because all of a sudden he’s on his knees, shielding you with his (very naked) bod, and knives in hands.

It must be said to the stranger’s credit, that he never seems anything else than annoyed despite the display. In fact…he doesn’t seem to take it half as serious as he should.

A heavy sigh escapes him, granting him time to pinch his own arm. “All…alright. I see. That’s just nasty! No other word for it!” Sighing again, he looks around the place and your gaze follows his. Shit. “Well, if my master findeth out, I shall be the one punished. Ye hath not long ‘fore he returneth. Taketh nought but what is your to take as ye leaveth.” With that he turn and exits through a tent flap.

“That…hurt my ears,” Loki complains.

You’ve never seen him suffer a hangover and his face of disgusted curiosity supports your theory that the way the man had spoken was weird beyond normal. Not as weird as waking up in a tent that could’ve been taken from a Robin Hood-movie, though.

Everything seems to be handmade, including the bed which seems to be pieced together on the spot and padded with straw and sheep skin. The red and blue canvas walls are thick, but not enough to block the unmistakable shadows of leaves in the sun, or the sound of voices. Happy voices.

Rounding on Loki, his evident surprise does absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Where…the fuck…are we?!”

“Not València.”

“Oh, really?” The urge to slap him with a pillow is strong, but he’s faster than you and tugs it away. “What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Perfect, black brows arch at your insinuation. “I didn’t do anything! I’m complete- well, maybe not completely, just in thi- but no. I didn’t bring us here.” Turquoise eyes roam the room and your naked form. “Where- and whenever here is.”

Pulling you to your feet, you allow him to do what he wants, knowing that whatever he’s got you into now it’ll be easier just to roll with it. Magic caresses your skin (lingering long enough in certain places to soften your mood) until you’re dressed in clothes more ridiculous than what you’d had to wear In Valhalla. Billions of layers weigh you down and it feels almost impossible to breathe due to a corset. Looking at Loki, the view isn’t quite as foreign because you’ve seen him in leathers and silks, and you envy the lightness of his clothes.

“What? Loki!”

But voices from right outside have you scurrying through a slid the Asgardian cuts in the tent wall, escaping the man that had given you a chance to run away before his master came back.

By the time you come to a stand still, it’s abruptly and smack into Loki’s unyielding form because you’ve not been paying attention, focusing instead on the ridiculously long sleeves that keep getting in the way. And shoes? Oh, the trickster’s going to hear just wrong everything is, that’s for sure! The problem’s just…it really doesn’t seem to be his doing. Whatever “this” is. Either way, doesn’t take a genius to fit the pieces together, now that you’ve stopped to think.

The language.

The tent and its contents.

The ridiculous clothes.

Medieval Europe has been represented plenty among some of the things you’ve “procured” over the years.

The language.

…   Loki’s PoV   …

This is unheard of. Loki, God of Chaos and Mischief, waking up in a strange time and place with no recollection of how he got there. Glancing over at the woman, he appreciates what the outfit does for her figure for nothing more than a second (or two) before looking for cues on how she is dealing with this situation. Mimir’s balls. Nostrils are flaring, following the same rapid tempo of the bosom that is shackled by a corset and layers of fabric. Oh, she is furious, and it is all Loki can do to push aside the memories of how some of their very first encounters had been.

“Do not worry, [Y/N],” he promises tentatively, “I will see to it that we are returned.”

Even the bird that has been chirping prettily in the nearby tree falls quiet as she returns his gaze, burning cold with determination.

“Worry?” The bird flutters away with a protest. “You will make su-…you are just as surprised as I am, and I’m plenty capable of doing the saving too.” For a moment Loki envies the bird, although the wrath is more likely a result of the situation itself. “In fact, Loki god of Mischief…I think I know what sort of place we are at.”

Without explaining, she stomps past him towards the clamouring noise of what sounds like a village, and he knows better than to argue at this moment. In fact, he quite enjoys witnessing the feisty side of [Y/N], though his appreciation might be tainted by previous experiences. So he follows dutifully until their reach the edge of the woods and stumble upon the type of scenery Loki recalls from his childhood.

Roughhewn, wooden cottages, stables with sturdy ponies and a donkey, a strangely new looking smithy, and where there are not actual buildings, there are tents or market stalls with an abundance of items. Ah! Market day! That would account for the high amount of people for such a small place. And where there are travellers, there will be plenty of information…and mounts more fit for a god than a woolly pony.

“I beg pardon, good lord,” [Y/N]’s voice rings from across the makeshift street, “mayhaps thou canst offer me direction to the Guild of Law or the Town Hall?”

Despite the loveliness of her voice the words jar Loki’s ears, but the stranger hardly raises a brow and merely explains the (very simple) route. Maybe his grasp of the spoken languages were not as correct as he had thought…still…

She leans in conspiratorially close, a smug smile on the perfect lips. “Oh, yeah, I’m so right! Look at the windows.” Doing so helps the god very little, and the devilish woman doesn’t give up the secret until she has laughed thoroughly first, but then: “The glass…it’s too clear, too perfect. And look at the paint, that’s modern too.”

…   Reader’s PoV   …

Hearin' stories and a thousand lies About the things that I’d never do

A lot of things begin to make sense when you get to the Town Hall. Like the geographical location: Mid-England, not too far from a place called Hucknall (although you’re still not sure how you actually got there). And the time? Still 2019 on the very day you had expected to wake up. And still, it’s somehow much more satisfying to see that you have been right in noticing all the little things that somehow are off even though it becomes easier to explain to Loki just what is going on when you finally stand with the so called “King’s Law”. Theoretically at least.

“Role playing?”

“U-huh.”

“You mean to say this is all fake?”

That one takes a bit longer to explain to him, how it’s an elaborate game of pretend for adults but that breaking the rules of the game is absolutely not acceptable. It becomes even trickier to harness his impatience when he learns that whichever punishment there would be dealt would be of no consequence to either of you.

“I know we’re not coming back, but don’t you see?” Noticing the disapproving look of a nearby LARPer, you tug Loki over to a corner. “Whoever sent us here wanted to annoy us or whatever…how about we play his game, but up the ante?”

Curiosity wins over frustration in those green-blue infinities. “What do you mean?”

“This place, these people…according to the rules and outline for the weekend, they expect the Magicians’ Guild to visit, maybe show some tricks. Tricks. You can do better than that.”

“I don’t do tricks for amusement like some jester.”

“Exactly.” His skin is blessedly cool on your hands when you draw him in for a kiss. “They’ll have no clue what hit them.”

…

Is there a porter somewhere For a lady in despair Can you help little me

It started in the details like things disappearing and reappearing which wouldn’t have been alarming until the frequency of the incidents skyrocketed and everyone were talking about moving items within an hour, stressing the poor souls in charge of maintaining some order. They were relieved when things resumed staying put…then a suspicious amount of even stranger sightings were reported.

“I swear, sir, there was a unicorn!”

“Madam! Thy book is not a possum…”

“Hath thou any witnesses?” – “Ay, sir Walter.” – “Sir Walter…didst thou hear the tree talk?”

It might not be the LARPing group’s plan, but the big mystery of the day is how these things are happening. Of course, the incentive for figuring it out differs depending on the level of powerlessness for each individual (extremely high from the gamemasters’ while virtually non-existent for the players who manage to keep believing it’s essentially a matter of very clever tricks).

And still no one tries to stop you and Loki. Time for the big show, you smirk as you prepare the final act to smoke out whoever has brought the two of you here. A kiss, a promise not to be scared by whatever will come, and then you start running from the forest, head over heels and yelling for people to save you.

Why?

Looking over your shoulder, you admit you would’ve been terrified at the monstrosity that haunts you. It’s a beast like none you’ve ever seen. Huge, tough and thick fur on the front half of the lumbering body while the hindquarters are covered in scales in the same venomous yellow as the leathery wings. Even with just two limbs (strong legs and big paws with deadly claws) it moves fast simply due to the size. It’s just an illusion. And still you try to speed up, hands fighting with the (pre-)shredded garb to keep yourself from falling.

It’s not until a tent is flattened under the beast that people seem to decide that they’re neither collectively hallucinating…nor watching a fancy show. Screams rise, agitating the creature so it roars with the draconic mouth open wide enough to count every single tooth, though most probably never get further than the set of fangs that drip with something that singes the grass below.

It’s chaos. Heart-pounding, gut-twisting, explosive chaos. The kind you’ve always avoided at all costs in your work by planning everything meticulously, preferring the satisfaction of perfection instead. This is…your gasping is not just from running. Burning from within the veins is the pleasure of being in control in this living nightmare: the chaos is yours to command. Dark and addictive, like the sides of a god you know. And you don’t want to run, you want to stride purposefully to flaunt how you of all people are untouchable by this monster following in your footsteps.

What? Chains of un-burning embers latch on to you from all sides and shackle you in place, restraining all but your head as you try to spot the one behind this twist of the scenario. And there he is. Tall and slender like Loki, you admit, and with the same slightly arrogant confidence in his own abilities even now that he stands calmly while everyone else is fleeing. Guess we found you.

Like a ballet with hands, the man gathers the air (it’s the best way you can describe it) around him until the red cloak is flapping. Then he sends it towards the monster, not caring that you’re in the way to receive the force too. You land clumsily with a thud and an umph but manage to twist in time to see the illusion break apart like smoke, leaving everything intact once more.

“Loki!”

“I should have surmised it was you, Strange.” The god steps out from the smithy, a cold smile on the lips. “What’s this? Tired of playing games?”

Swatting the oddly active cloak aside, the wizard turns to face Loki. “We can’t let you endanger innocent people.”

“Please! They were never in danger.” The glint of green in his eyes is still one of amusement.

“These may not have been, but there are others out there…you been ignoring us and as su–“ Strange (because you recognize him from the news now) interrupts himself with a heavy sigh. “We need your help with…something.”

“Find someone else.”

You can hear it, the tension in Loki’s voice that you’ve come to learn has something to do with you. Maybe the wizard recognizes the nature of it, because he disintegrates the chains and even help you get back to your feet (and the cloak dusts you off – on it’s own!). It’s not until you’re safely back by Loki’s side that the men seem to return to business.

“Loki…trust me, we didn’t want to do this, but we need your help…the manner of getting you involved was your brother’s idea.”

Surprised by the admission, Loki’s head snaps up. “Thor planned this prank?”

“Yeah, now are you coming? They’re waiting at the tower for you and [Y/N].”

Wait what? “Why me?”

The wizard’s surprisingly kind eyes meet yours. “You were brought in, dying from a poison…the least we can do is ensure that there are no lasting effects.”

And without further ado, he stirs the air to create a ring of embers through which a very different place can be seen. One with white walls hung with original artwork, sleek designed furniture in dark colours, and a handful of very serious looking superheroes.

#loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki marvel #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki odinson x reader #loki prompt #Loki in midgard #loki is confused #this was not what i had planed #loki funny #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #Loki x burglar #loki (marvel) #mcu #marve cinematic universe #marvel

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 43: Things Get a Lot Less Vague, But it’s Still Pretty Vague

I’m taking full advantage of the laziest time of the year and I’m watching even more Yugioh. I even gave myself a buffer. Sort of. I kinda lost a day playing Octopath Traveler and I don’t even remember that happening.

Now this episode doesn’t have anyone getting struck by lightning, but if that happened, it would have fit right in. A lot happened in this episode. So, to start off, Mai decided to play one of the three cards we were given explicit instructions to never ever play and it has immediately screwed her over via orb.

Everyone else watching the orb has become completely enamored by it. Especially Kaiba, who is pretty positive he can turn this sphere into a dragon. I don’t know why anyone would ever come to this conclusion, but welcome to Yugioh, it’s well into S2 and I’m just still jaw agape and saying “HOW?” at my screen.

Like y’all I don’t know how to play this game, which should be hella apparent from reading any of my posts, but like there is one thing that everyone knows--even I knew--about Yugioh the game. Let me just, once sec

Ah, there we go.

Like sometimes it shows that your game is originally in a language that doesn’t require spaces between words. And like this is coming from me. You know how verbose I am, I freakin love words. But maybe that’s too many words for a card.

(read more under the cut)

And while this is pretty much the worlds most BS card already, what’s even better is that none of this jargon appeared until after Mai played the card. Like basically the card pretends to be completely normal and then is like “Boom, gotcha. I’ll just be a cool Ikea orb lamp instead!”

At this point, while everyone is scrambling around trying to fathom what to do about this huge ass fake sun blinding everyone down in Domino, Marik decides to deposit some more bizarre lore.

I kind of assumed Yugi and Kaiba were born with the correct soul formula to become the reincarnation of these people from 3000 B.C.E. without any actual blood relations but apparently, somehow, you got people from Ancient Egypt migrating to Ancient Japan. Sure, I mean if you did enough trading routes it could happen. It just seems like it would be a difficult transition?

And we could get real head canon and talk about their parentage since there’s a lot we don’t know. Mokuba and Kaiba could have different fathers, since they are quite different looking, which may be how Mokuba is exempt from all this lore while it still applies to Seto (Cuz Mokuba has been staring at that card for like quite a while and he cannot read it). But like, I don’t know if the show will even bother to cover that.

I don’t know if we’ll find out when in their bloodlines Kaiba and Yugi’s Egyptian cursed lines arrived in Japan. Was this during like the Edo period? Was this to set up a really bizarre Shogun Yugioh spinoff?

Wait, is that a thing? I don’t actually know, Yugioh seems to have like 8 spinoffs that all look a lot of the same to me. It may just be 1 spinoff that Netflix keeps changing the preview image of to trick me into thinking there’s 8 of them.

Or, did Kaiba have a relative that showed up in the 80′s and had a crazy weekend and a one night stand? Would Kaiba even know who his real Dad is?

Whatever, I’m sure there’s plenty of fanfic made over the last 20 years to cover this so I don’t have to. Moving on.

And then this kid’s show decided to tie up Mai to a wall or something? Man, Marik and chaining people up, this is the fourth person he’s chained up today! At least this time she doesn’t have a box over her head.

Still pretty kinky though.

Yo did Mokuba just...casually walk out of Marik’s Shadow Realm just now?

Again, do they cancel the game at this point because the equipment is...clearly malfunctioning? Like, this is the part that Kaiba is supposed to have full control of because he made all the equipment they’re using and he’s just...glossing over this? Like, this is the one thing that Kaiba would be like “OK wait, wait, we can’t ship it like this, my company is actually ruined if the game can do this, one sec, cancel everything.”

Nah. They just kinda watch.

And now, Marik decides to say the bird chant so we can hear what was actually written on the card and it was...a...

...it was the definition of what a poem is all right...

This is the lyrics to the Ra poem, just so you can see how bad it is. My search engine history will never be the same, but I just want y’all to glory on how kid’s show this poem is, compared to everything else going on in this kid’s show at this moment.

"Great beast of the sky, please hear my cry./

Transform thyself from orb of light and bring me victory in this fight/

Envelop the desert with your glow and cast your rage upon my foe./

Unlock your powers deep within so that together we may win./

Appear in this Shadow Game as I call your name,/

Winged Dragon of Ra"

Bravo, writers. Bravo. This corny as hell poem with its very awkward meter was voiced over alllllll the other nuts stuff going on in this show and guys, it’s a juxtaposition.

Now at this point, Kaiba has his poem he needs to make the card works--so he no longer needs to translate it--so he can just cancel. He’s got everything he wants now. Time to just cancel. Throw the cursed boy in whatever prison you got on this ship. In fact, just toss him off the ship entirely. You no longer need him. He doesn’t even have the card anymore. Mai has it.

I honestly think Kaiba just spaced the hell out at this point.

Also then Marik follows it up by saying this:

Joey gets wind that this is pretty bad and we’re going to get a very dead Mai--I mean Joey was the one who just recently got struck by lightning so it’d make sense that he’d be the one to say "I know for a real true fact none of you are going to do a damn thing about this unless I do this myself.” So he runs directly over to Kaiba but then I think the show decided to edit out him talking to Kaiba because it just jump cuts to Joey talking to Roland instead.

Like it really felt like Joey went the long way around to get on this platform but I dunno, maybe he tried to punch Kaiba in the Japanese version and that’s why they edited it out? I dunno.

Also, how many times will Joey get DQ’d before he actually gets DQ’d? Will anyone ever in fact get DQ’d in this entire tourney?

As Ra starts warming up his engines to start spewing fire all over the field, Joey decides to take a moment to try and talk to Mai. To tell her that yes, he did have a dream about her, but didn’t want to tell her earlier, because no teenage boy in their right mind would tell an adult woman that they had a dream about them during a near-death experience.

Which honestly most of it was lost on the fact that Mai can only hear him as a sort of ghostly spooky echo.

So then, through the power of...the show only calls if friendship, but it’s very vague, y’all...they break the curse that Marik put on Mai, and she remembers Joey. Also because Joey is touching her face. Like literally touching her. This would have been way spookier if she could not see him at this point.

So Ra is getting ready to fry these two up and I thought “wow, we’re gonna get two bodies at the end of this episode. What a treat!” but there’s a twist.

What? Lol what?

Within like 3 milliseconds, Yugi goes “dammit what are these assholes doing?” and leaps up to the platform and then takes yet another direct fireball hit in order to save Joey Wheeler. No one even asked Yugi to do this--he’s not even competing in this game, but he certainly got up there and took it.

This episode must have been a right up shipping frenzy when y’all were 12.

Marik is so pleased that he got to eff up Yugi more in this duel than the one that he actually tried to kill Yugi Muto in. If I remember correctly he did mention that this all was very convenient--I mean he got 3 in one go and he wasn’t even trying. So, Because Yugi is passed out and because Kaiba will never actually step in and stop anyone in this show unless Mokuba orders him to, Marik walks straight up to Joey and Mai and makes some more nonsense right in front of everyone on this show.

This is right in front of most of the entire cast.

Maybe it’s the color scheme but I got strong Stinky Cheese Man vibes from this magic effect.

I thought of pulling more caps from this point but there was waaaay too much shirtless Yugi in it. In my mind, all cartoon characters, when they take their shirt off, have another shirt on underneath. And if they take off that shirt, it’s yet another shirt. It’s shirts and boots leggings on all the way down to infinity like a russian nesting doll, and the image of shirtless Yugi really puts a kibosh to my world view and I didn’t like it.

No kinkshame, of course, if that’s your thing, well, you got a 18x18 pixel shirtless Yugi right there for you to enjoy. Enjoy.

Now that Mai has been trapped here in this hourglass resort, she will lose her memories of her friends for the rest of time, obsessively watching everyone else's vacations that are full of friends having way more fun than she is having.

This is just Instagram basically. Y’all, this is just Instagram.

And some of y’alls Instagram has shirtless Yugis in it, I just know it.

And not to get too real but like, last episode we went through how Marik basically gave Mai depression--and it says a lot that his way of doing this was illustrated in a show written like 20 years ago in a lot of the same way social media works today. Just throwing that out there. 

Overall, I feel like the theme of the Mai ark is “Marik just sped up what they were already doing and it was super effective.” Mai trapped herself in her own false and negative insecurities. Kaiba failed to moderate anything. Joey waited way too late to say the right thing. Yugi sacrificed himself again to such a degree that he couldn’t save Mai later when Marik was just strutting around cursing people willy nilly.

And I’m not going to lie, Marik’s cargo pants/cape strut was hilarious.

It was probably supposed to be menacing, but this long cut of this ridiculous cast just watching this weird boy go was great.

Up until now Seto has been a very patient impatient person, but now it’s finally his duel, and he’s so excited to duel Ishizu--but y’all it’s just Seto up against a phsycic again. I imagine it’s gonna go real great.

Other than that one guy in town, will this boy ever duel a normal person?

Also...been debating on whether Mai is dead or alive, and her soul still seems attached to her body--like she’s still salvageable? So I’ll say alive for now. Seems more like a dream than like she literally got transported elsewhere.

Dude. It is S2 and I just realized that Mai Valentine is a pun.

Damn.

If you just got here, this is the end of S2 and things are rapidly losing their mind. Click here if you want to read from ep 1

#yugioh #yugioh recap #photo recap #s2 ep43 #So like this season is almost over and nothing is getting resolved? #joey wheeler #mai valentine #yugi muto #seto kaiba #marik ishtar #How many times in one day can yugi Muto get hit with a fireball #Do not understand how this boy isn't in smash yet #mokuba #tea gardner #tristan taylor #I guess duke devlin was also here in the background

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #178

“for such a little thing, you sure are in your own way.”

What’s your favorite type of bird? Barn owls are actual deities. What was on the last sandwich you ate? Pb & j. What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? Same stuff I listen to now, although I had a mild screamo-ish phase. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. How far away is the closest store to your house and what is it? Some cheap dollar store in the town, dunno names. What is your favorite Thai dish? Haven't tried any. When was the last time you made out with somebody? Over a month back. What month of the year was your mother born? August. Are there any candles in your bedroom, and what scent are they? No. What TV show(s) have you been watching currently? None. How many apps do you have on your phone? Six. My phone has so, so little storage ugh. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? No to both. Are there any movies you’ve seen so many times? Yeah, sure. Of course a lot as a kid, Finding Nemo and The Lion King 1 & 2 especially, then I've watched both Blair Witch Project movies a lot, Jim Carrey's How the Grinch Stole Christmas... How would you describe your sense of humor? Sarcastic. What’s your favorite type of bread? Pumpernickel. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yeah. Have there ever been any brushfires/wildfires in your area? Yeah. What did you have to eat for dinner last night? Nothing (Thanksgiving was lunch). Do you have separate emails for personal and business? No. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. Do you know your significant other’s passwords? No, I have no reason to. Would you like to study abroad one day? No. Does someone have a crush on you but you don’t feel the same way? Idk. Who do you feel most beautiful around? Sara. /v\ What’s one makeup item you cannot live without? I could easily live without any. Is there one thing all of your ex’s had in common? All guys. Did you french kiss before you were 16? No. Imagine your spouse just died; would you get re-married? I don't know if I would. Like... I'd never stop loving her, so "moving on" to someone else just because she's no longer physically here would feel disloyal. What’s your favorite thing about life? New, fun experiences and creating strong bonds with people like you. Who pays for the first date? Idrc, but probably whoever proposed the date? Or split the bill? Have you ever had a friend that got a bf/gf, and then completely ignored you? Yeah. Do you play any computer games, if so, what ones? Not currently 'cuz my gaming laptop has to be fixed. :| When it is and I have my own income, I might return to WoW, but I'm not sure. I think the subscription is kinda high, and I have more important things to handle. What is the funniest movie you’ve ever seen? Idk why I find White Chicks so goddamn funny. What lyric means the most to you? Off the very top of my head, "A bloody war behind my eyes; I'll come all right on the other side" from "Free" by Mother Mother. Really makes me think of all I've been through but how I keep coming out stronger. Who is the smartest person you know? Girt. What’s the next movie you will see in theaters? Idk. Are you adopted? No. What band do you like that most people hate? You canNOT look me in the face and say you don't like at least one Nickelback song. I don't get the hate. Any new bands that you actually enjoy? Oh idk. What is your escape from reality? RPing. Do you have any self-inflicted scars on your arms? You can only just barely see them. Do you like “scene” hair? YEAH AND I ALWAYS FUCKING WANTED IT BUT I COULD NEVER POSE IT CORRECTLY 'CUZ MY HAIR WAS TOO THICK AND HEAVY. Have your parents ever been to jail? No. If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Definitely not. Does it scare you when a relationship moves too fast? Y E A H Would you ever consider hitchhiking? I don't know if I would even in a desperate situation... I don't trust people. Have you ever hitchhiked? No. Have you ever been to a music festival? No. What color car do you want to have? Burnt orange. Would you rather hike a mountain or explore a cave? Explore a cave!!! Would you rather wear a flower crown or veil? Probably a veil? Do you believe peace on earth is attainable? I honestly don't believe so. What type of tattoo do you want? s o  m a n y What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Would you ever live in the desert? Nooooo. Fuck the heat. Is your town beautiful? I don't really live in one, but the closest town isn't. Which season do you want to get married in? Autumn. Are totem poles cool? YEAH! Favorite art forms? Conceptual photography. What kind of music do you enjoy? Plenty sorts of metal, rock, and alternative. Do you have any gay friends? Yeah. Where is your favorite place to go? The zoo, even though I have mixed feelings about them... Do you know your dad? Yeah. How often do you get on Facebook? At least once a day. Are you related to anyone who’s in prison? Don't think so?? What concerts are you attending in the near future? Y'ALL I MIGHT FUCKING SEE OZZY IN JANUARY. He and Megadeth are coming to Charlotte and the tickets aren't too bad. :') It's a loooong drive but Mom was like "hell yeah" when I told her and wants to buy tickets after she gets her tax return AH. Metallica is a possibility too, but Mom doesn't think she can afford it. If you were kicked out of your house, where would you go first? Dad's. What are you currently looking forward to? Sara's b-day, Christmas, hopefully getting my laptop fixed, aforementioned concerts, and school. What was the reason you got grounded for last? Idk, that was a long time ago. But most likely for "talking back" to Mom. The last two people you kissed, are they virgins? Yes; probably not. Is there a guy that knows everything or mostly everything about you? Yeah. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed? A bit to the left. If you could have anything delivered to your doorstep each morning, what would it be? Um,,, money?????? What is one vacation destination that many people think is just fabulous but which you personally have no desire to visit (or revisit)? New York City. Heard from my sister it's a shithole with the craziest and rudest people known to Planet Earth. I'm not big on cities, anyway. Which animated character is your all-time favorite? Uhhhhhh... Dory, maybe? If you could own a home on the shore of any body of water in the world, which waterfront would you choose? I WANT THE PINK BEACHES OF THE BAHAMAS. But I'm scared of the Bermuda Triangle so will probably never see them. :'''''') What serves as the greatest motivation for you in your daily life? MY RECOVERY. If I got through what I have, I can't ever give up and roll back down that hill. I'm focusing to always improve. If you could have any round object in the world, what spherical item would you want? t h e  g a m e s p h e r e ,  l a d s If you were left alone for one hour with nothing more than a pen and a notepad, what would you be inclined to draw or write during those 60 minutes? Practice eyes or start a poem. If you could witness anything at all in super-slow motion, what would you want to see? Hmmm... OH, maybe a big cat's tongue licking meat. See how it actually shears tiny bits off. Cats' tongues are cool. What do you forget to do more often than anything else? Take my anxiety med at the right time. If you could teach everyone in the world one skill, what would it be? Compassion. You’ve been offered the chance to paint a billboard along a highway with any message you choose, as long as it’s only 10 words long. What is your message? Oh jeez, I'd have to think too hard on this. Who’s the last guy to give you roses? Tyler. Did your parents do drugs when they were younger? Not to my knowledge, and I doubt they would've. Do you have any relatives who live on a different continent than you? I don't believe so. What are your religious beliefs? Were you raised with those beliefs, or did you develop them on your own? I'm a theist, entailing I believe in a creator, but I know nothing about him/her/it. I personally picture them as a peaceful and sage deity that allows life to go on without it intervening anywhere, letting the world evolve on its own and see how we adapt to our unique settings and handle life. In the end, I believe we are either given some form of paradise or a type of damnation depending on how you wrote your story. I like to imagine the good go to their personal vision of "Heaven," and I wonder if the paranormal activity some experience in life are the acts of the damned, apparently confined to remain on Earth or something. Anyway, I wasn't raised with such beliefs; they were developed. I was brought up Catholic, then I turned to just simple Christianity as I didn't agree with a lot of Catholic ideas, and most recently I abruptly turned away from that in favor of theism. How did you and your significant other celebrate your last anniversary? We went out for breakfast. What has been your favorite house/apartment/etc you’ve ever lived in? My last house for location, as a house itself, my childhood one. What’s something in your house that currently needs to be cleaned? I need to vacuum my room. Do you still remember any of the dreams or nightmares you had as a child? Yup. What’s the most bizarre conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The world is donut-shaped. Yeah. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not. At. All. Who was your first crush? Did you ever actually date them? Dylan, and no. What’s the weirdest, rudest, or most ridiculous thing a guest has ever done in your home? Who knows. Has anyone ever told you you’re manipulative? I don't think so. Do you know anyone who owns their own business? No. When was the last time you weren’t 100% sober? Uhhh maybe that movie night with Colleen and Chelsea. Is obtaining a college degree something that is important to you? Well, for my possible career future. Have you ever eaten at a vegan restaurant? No. Do you view substance abuse as a disease or a choice? I have... mixed feelings here. Starting something, that is indisputably a choice. Becoming addicted though, I'm not sure. Some people have addictive personalities so have a bigger inclination to become addicted, but isn't that just a personal trait/weakness you can fight?? I dunno. I know it's labelled as a disease by people way more informed than me though, so. What does the last text you sent say? Don't feel like checking. Does it bother you when people call you ‘ma'am’ or ‘sir?’ No. I live in the South, that's polite. Have you ever been obsessed with a television character? Does Dory count for movies? ha ha Do you ever wish you had powers of invisibility? Not really. What was the last thing that changed your life completely? Recovery. Do you have any step siblings? One. Have you ever been questioned by the police? No. In which state/country were you born? NC, U.S.A. Have you ever been to an amusement park out of state? Disney World. What do you normally drink when eating at a fast food restaurant? Coke or Mountain Dew. Have the police ever been looking for you? Not because I did something wrong; I've told the beach story a few times. If you chew gum, which kind is your favorite? I love the watermelon Hubba Bubba one asjfawoeu Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yeah. What was the last liquid that you choked on? Water, just this morning when I was taking my meds ah. How many times did you wake up today before actually getting up? Well, I woke up once in the middle of the night like usual, then I woke up at like, 6-something and went back to sleep. Who did you celebrate your last birthday with? Mom, sises, Ash's husband and kids, and Dad stopped by. Was your last kiss initiated by you or the other person? I think it was kinda a simultaneous thing. We were saying bye. Do you buy a ton of things at the store at once or just for that day? Mom does the shopping, but it depends on how much time she has and what's at the house. When getting dressed do you put your pants or shirt on first? Pants. When you kiss a person where do your hands usually go? I actually don't know if it's a consistent thing for me??? I don't kiss anyone regularly so I don't recognize a pattern. What is one song you listen to that you’re sure not many people do? "False Flags," probs. Massive Attack is so neglected of the attention they deserve. Do you use a handrail on stairs if there is one? Yes, I'm scared of tripping. What was the last thing you saw that made you smile? Teddy came right up into my face wanting attention. What is your favorite drinking game? Never played any. Do you have any tattoos that you don’t like anymore? I think I've mentioned why I don't love my "ohana" one now. I'm getting it covered at some point. My "perfectly flawed" one is probably getting covered by a much bigger piece; I picked a bad location for it to want a sleeve. I'd just maybe redesign it, put if somewhere else. Do you have a shower curtain or door? Curtain. Who was the last person from your high school graduating class you saw? Probs Colleen? Who was the last non-relative you hung out with? Sara. Are you listening to anything right now? I'm way too obsessed with "Black Wedding" by In This Moment (feat. Rob Halford). Rob makes it, and the chorus is awesome. How many keys are on your keychain? One. Who was the last person you took a photograph with? Ryder, my nephew. Are you left handed? No. What were you most scared of when you were little? Losing my mom/being separated from her. Are you biracial? No. When was the last time you painted your nails? What color(s)? I couldn't even guess. Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? Thank fuck no. Have you ever overflown a bathtub? Don't think so. What’s at the top of your to-do list in life? Stay positive, never stop aiming to improve. What was the last thing you shared? Well, Thanksgiving food. Where are you most ticklish? Feet. Do not- Which cartoon character do you want to keep as a pet? Uhhhh how 'bout an Espeon. I imagine them to be calm and silently affectionate like cats and very intelligent. Have you ever considered a career in music/acting? No. When was the last time you felt seriously embarrassed? Getting food yesterday. Per usual, let things die down, but I still ended up crammed in a corner, unable to go in any direction while someone was trying to get past me. I was headed for an anxiety attack and felt like a total nuisance. I'm pretty sure it showed in how I was whipping my head around, shuffling in various directions, clearly wanting the fuck out. Have you ever liked a song, looked up the lyrics to it, then hated it? No, lyrics can't ruin a song I like the sound of. What would be the icing on the cake for you this Christmas? A PS4, omg. I have to get my laptop fixed and a new camera, so I highly doubt I'm getting that or a tablet considering cost. I want to play the Spyro Reignited trilogy beyond words, like I refuse to even watch a let's play because I want to experience it all first-hand, but. Yeah, unlikely anytime soon. If you had the opportunity to live forever, would you take it? Noooooo. Do you like quesadillas? Only chicken and/or cheese ones. Did you like the show Invader Zim? I surprisingly never saw it. What’s the greatest/most influential song you’ve ever heard? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy always makes me wanna get off my ass and do something. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen in a grocery store? A HUGE BOX OF ANIMAL HEADS IN THE MIDDLE OF WAL-MART, BECKONING THE FURRIES INTO ITS DEPTHS. Have you ever bought yourself a present on Christmas? No. Well, I've used money I've been given on Christmas, if that counts. Have you ever been on a mechanical bull? No. Do you need a key card to get into the building you live in? No. Have you ever stepped in chewing gum? Yes. Name all the people you know that you’ve seen today. Just Mom.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

[geekmama]

Dream Baby Ch. 3: Tit for Tat

In which John Watson has the last laugh...

With thanks to Ellis_Hendricks for editing, feedback, and saving me from a fairly egregious error in continuity...

“Aaaaah! This is the life,” said John Watson as he eased onto the sun lounger, close beside that of his traveling companion -- or, really, one of his four traveling companions.  

Cate Rushbury smiled in agreement, but didn’t otherwise move, not even to lower her sunglasses.

She might look relaxed, but appearances were deceptive and he knew Cate was keeping an eagle eye on the children.

Cate’s ten-year-old Jenny seemed to be taking good care of the toddlers, though. Two-year-old Jack Rushbury and John’s own darling Rosie shrieked with laughter as the edges of the cool, foamy waves caught their bare toes, while a half-finished sand castle stood waiting a few feet away, beside the enormous Finding Nemo beach towel that served as picnic, play, and nap venue. A green and white striped umbrella stuck in the sand provided shade for one side of the area, and its twin protected Cate and John from too much exposure to the tropical sun.

John reached over to take up his second fruity rummy concoction of the day. He said to Cate, “I feel a toast coming on.”

“Excellent.” Cate took her eye off the children long enough fetch her own tall, fruit-trimmed glass. “Fire away, Dr. Watson.”

“I may have done this one before, but it’s a good one. To new friends and unexpected holidays.”

“Hear, hear!”

Glasses were raised and cooling sips taken.

But then Cate added, “And to Mycroft Holmes, too. The man behind all this…” Cate waved a hand in a gesture encompassing sea and sand, green grass and waving palms, and their children’s simple delight.

John raised a brow, but agreed after only a moment’s hesitation. “Alright. To Mycroft. May he continue to be less of an arse and more human than one would have thought possible.”

“Amen,” Cate agreed, with great solemnity.

John would have chuckled, but knowledge of Cate’s situation kept his expression to a slight, crooked smile. Two months ago he’d known her only as Jack’s mother, just another parent with whom he had a nodding acquaintance at the nursery. But that was before Sherrinford, and before Cate’s husband, a top MI6 agent, met an untimely demise.

The one event had nothing to do with the other, of course. But Mycroft, who’d known the now deceased Rushbury, and was, of course, aware that the dead man’s son and John’s Rosie were mates at the Westford Little Becomers Academy, had actually uttered the words “kill two birds with one stone” when he’d suggested that John, Cate, and the children would benefit from a complete change of scenery at government expense. Then he’d actually coloured up with mortification at his use of such singularly inept phraseology and explained the details of the plan with much more care and consideration.

Sherrinford really had thrown Mycroft off his stride, John thought at the time. Lady Smallwood and Mycroft’s PA Anthea were both doing their best to provide stability and comfort in the difficult aftermath, but John was strongly of the opinion that Mycroft himself stood in decided need of a Tahitian holiday.

Not that that would ever happen.

In any event, both John and Cate had been told in separate interviews that they would each be doing the British Government an enormous favor in accompanying the other on holiday. There was a 97.8% probability that they and the children would quickly mesh as a quasi-family unit (and how Mycroft had come up with that number John didn’t want to know), and they would doubtless return to London quite refreshed and ready to take up the reins of their lives with renewed energy.  

That 97.8% probability had certainly come to pass, and not only because of the inevitable exigencies and the cooperation needed when traveling halfway round the world with three children. True, Jenny was ten and quite mature for her age, but Rosie and Jack were infants. However, after everything that had happened in the last year, Cate and John agreed that this new adventure seemed small potatoes. They would get through it, and be better for the experience. And so it proved.

He and Cate were friends, not lovers, which made the whole thing much easier. Neither of them was ready for a new, serious relationship. But it turned out they did have a lot in common, and the areas where they differed seemed potentially complementary. Certainly young Jenny was encouraging the two of them to go off to dinner and enjoy the moonlit nights after Jack and Rosie were settled in their beds at night, but girls were like that, seeing romance around every corner. Not that Cate wasn’t pretty, small and slim, with wide green eyes, neatly cut copper curls, and a scattering of freckles. And not that she hadn’t shown signs of appreciating John’s appearance, too – he was a little greyer, maybe, than he’d been at his wedding, but he’d lost those seven pounds Sherlock had accused him of putting on, and he’d taken care to keep himself fit even after Mary… well.

He looked over at Cate now. She was quite different from Mary (Oh, Mary! My darling torment…), yet she, too, had a strength about her, and a calm way of dealing with whatever came up. And a sense of humor. It was coming out, now that they were feeling more settled in this strange, delightful place.

Two weeks down, and two to go.

Going back to London would be a culture shock and no mistake.

Which reminded him…

“Ah! I see you got your phone charged,” Cate said with a grin as John retrieved his mobile from the pocket of his beach jacket.

“Yeah. Haven’t missed it, but it won’t hurt to check and see if anything’s been going on.” He pressed the button and the phone began to boot up. “They know they can send anything really important through the front desk of the resort.”

“Yes,” Cate agreed, and took another sip of her drink. She leaned back, her eyes on the children again.

But a minute or so later, John’s brows rose. “Sherlock called. Two days ago. And left a voicemail!”

“Really?” Cate said in surprise. “I thought you said he never calls, just sends texts.”

“He doesn’t call unless it’s bloody urgent.” John quickly accessed his voicemail as a shiver went down his spine. His worry deepened as the message came on, but gradually cleared and finally he had to exclaim, “I’ll be damned!”

“What is it?” Cate demanded.

“It seems… no wait, I’ll just let you hear it,” John said, and putting the phone on speaker he hit play again.

John! I suppose you’ve turned your phone off. Very irresponsible of you. What if there were some emergency? Well, we’ll speak of that later. I just called… that is, I just wanted you to know that I will be… that Molly… that I… um… we’re getting married. Lestrade suggested I should let you know right away, and indeed, he is the only person who knows – though I daresay Mrs. Hudson has guessed. And possibly Mycroft, you know what he is. In any case, Molly has made me the happiest man in the world, as the saying goes, and we’re off to shop for an engagement ring after brunch – and after this murder investigation Lestrade’s conducting. John Steed, murder made to look like suicide – I’ll give you the details when you return. I… I was going to suggest that, as Best Man, you begin making some plans, but… well, I do trust… that is… let me know if you would be willing… to… ah… In any case… enjoy your time away. Text me. If you like. Or call! It would be good to hear your voice.”

Cate had tipped her glasses down her nose and was staring at John by the time this convoluted and, finally, somewhat wistful voicemail had come to an end. “So… he’s marrying Dr. Hooper? I met her, you know. When she came to the nursery, once, to pick up Rosie. I take it from your expression that this is something of a surprise?”

“Yeah. I mean… it’s not entirely unexpected… they’ve known each other a long time. She’s his pathologist at Barts.”

Cate gaped a bit. “He has his own pathologist?”

“Basically, yes, that’s the situation. She does him favors, has done since they first met, years ago. She fell head over ears for him back then, and never really recovered, though God knows he gave her plenty of time and opportunity – he can be a real berk, to put it mildly. But her unrequited love for Sherlock is practically a Barts tradition. Probably has its own exhibit in the museum by now.”

Cate laughed. “Poor little pathologist! But now… apparently it’s not unrequited?”

“Apparently not,” John mused. “You know, Mary thought… that was one reason she wanted them both to be Rosie’s godparents. Along with Mrs. Hudson – Sherlock’s landlady.”

“Yes, I’ve met her as well. And her Aston Martin.”

John grinned, but went on, “Nothing came of it, though. Being co-godparents. Or so it seemed. Sherlock, for all he’s the smartest man in the room, is pretty slow in some areas. But then… well… there was this incident between them. During the… ah… Sherrinford thing. Can’t really give you the details. Sherlock would murder me, and maybe you, too -- with Molly’s assistance.”

“I see.” Cate looked quizzical.

“Do you really?”

“No.”

John laughed. “It is what it is. But now I suppose I’d better call him back. Wish him happy and all that. And tell him I will be his Best Man.”

“Yes, from the sound of it he’s probably been anxiously awaiting your reply. When did he call?”

“Two days ago.” He looked up the exact time. “Or, hang on, two nights. It was two in the morning here when he called!”

Cate smiled. “From what I’ve gathered, he can be a bit scattered? Probably had no idea.”

“Sherlock? Oh, no. That’s the sort of thing he would know.” John considered, his eyes narrowing. “Would’ve been pleased as punch to have awakened me at two in the morning – not to mention you and the kids. Bastard.”

“John!” Cate sounded shocked.

“Well, he is! Or can be, even now. I mean, he’s a lot better than he used to be. But still…”  An idea occurred. “What time is it right now in London?”

“They’re ten hours ahead? Or is it eleven?”

“So two or three in the morning!”

“John, you’re not going to call him now!”

“Oh yes I am.” He hit Return Call.

“You might be waking Dr. Hooper, too,” Cate pointed out. “And it’s even possible they’re … in the middle of something.”

“Oh, yeah!” John gave an evil chuckle. “All the better. And it serves her right for agreeing to marry him.” The phone in distant London began to ring and John, the enormity of the occasion really sinking in, said to his now resigned and even amused companion, “Tell you what, this’ll be worth every penny of the roaming charges! Every bloody penny!” And then the call was connected, a sleepy voice muttered something unintelligible from half a world away, and John, grinning, shouted with hearty cheer, “Hello, Sherlock!”

 ~.~ 

#Sherlock #sherlolly

[recentanimenews]

I Wanted to Write a Tourism Article, But I Touched a Mysterious Glowing Portal and Somehow Ended Up in Another World?!

So, cards on the table, this wasn't the article I was originally going to write.

  The plan in my to-do list—and the plan in newsroom chat—had been for me to head out to Japan, meet up with a friend there, and review a bunch of the collab cafés currently running. (Astute readers may have gathered that, since I cover the news pieces for like 90% of them, I'm kind of infatuated with them.) I had the reservations all set for all of them, I had my round trip ticket, got my passport renewed, the whole nine yards.

  Then on the layover in San Francisco, I killed some time looking at the modern art pieces scattered around my gate, and... long story short, things happened, I touched what I thought was an interactive NASA display but oh silly me it was an interdimensional portal.

  No lectures, please. Lessons were learned.

  At the moment, I have two issues. One, I have ended up getting so turned around in my efforts to get home that I've actually ended up going through a total of seven worlds, none of which are the one I'm trying to get back to. Two, I have a feature due, like, now. So I figure while I'm waiting to meet up with this mysterious guy who looks and sounds eerily like my childhood friend, I might as well knock out two birds with one stone.

  So, in lieu of what was going to be an adorable romp through anime-themed parfaits and soda, here's a travelogue of other worlds you may find yourself visiting someday.

  Yggdrasil

  If I'm going to get thrown to the four winds, this isn't the worst place to start. Yggdrasil actually seems to have the same view of the stars as Earth, which means technically I was pretty close to home? Also, things aligned pretty well with Bronze Age technology and society, so it wasn't 100% culture shock. Well, you know, except for all the magic and stuff flying around.

  Hospitality was pretty decent: all the local tribes were set up as "families," with a Patriarch at the head of each (male or female) and their followers referred to as children or siblings. Apparently loyalty within that system is a big deal around here, to the point that the success of peace negotiations can rest on that.

  Then there are the Einherjar: straight-up magic using warriors. You don't want to mess with them, but as long as you're not on the receiving end of their attacks, they're amazing to watch in battle.

  Best thing about Yggdrasil? Amazing reception. Data comes through like you're just sitting next to your router no matter where you go. Phone calls are a little tougher, though... you have to be near some kind of magic mirror to make it work. Which is fine if you've got nowhere to go. But, if someone had a loved one back home and had to keep leaving their base and knowing they couldn't call, I imagine that'd make them crazy after a while.

  Worth the Trip?: The good news is that with a few web searches and some skilled friends, you can survive the primitive nature of Yggdrasil with some familiar creature comforts. (And then they get a new skill set!) Downside is, no matter how nice people are, if you're living anywhere with anything like society, you're probably about to be in a war zone.

  Cross Reverie

  Okay, this one was a little weird. I swear I've seen this game around online (I'm more a Fate/GO girl myself), and pretty much everything I saw when I came through here matched up with the game. Same landscape, same types of people, and basically enough going on where if you know the game you can get around like nobody's business.

  Here's the thing: everyone is super low-level.

  Like, initially I was completely ready to believe I'd ended up inside a game. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing that happened to me on this trip. But everyone's "levels," even the really capable fighters were down in the teens. Then again, I guess when you're talking real-world adventuring, you're not going to spend several hours a day beating up monsters just to ding a higher level.

  Interestingly, a lot of the ladies around here don't... wear a lot of clothes? I felt weirdly overdressed a lot of the time. That's not a fast rule, but it was not uncommon to see lower- and higher-cut outfits in fashion. (Take note and... I guess don't visit when it's cold?)

  Worth the Trip?: If you're a gamer, you'll feel right at home. Things tend to function on game logic, but at a more "human" level. Just don't expect in-game creature comforts like teleportation. Though, if you're looking for actual straight-up game stuff...

  Sword Art Online

  There we go. No fuss, no messing, no wondering what translates to what. This is a game. You're in a game. Welcome to an RPG that you actually, like, do.

I'm pretty down with that. I like swords, I like adventure, and being able to do raids and quests without having to worry about spinning the camera around. Extra bonus? Your fellow adventurers are from the same world as you. So less culture shock, less having to explain your bad references in conversation. Overall a lot more welcoming. Plus, it's gorgeous there—exactly what you'd imagine a fantasy world to be, with all the cool clothes and critters included.

  There is one major down side, though... transportation out of there is not. Easy. And I don't mean like "flights are expensive" or "there's only one bus route." I mean like "you have to fight your way up a giant tower and not die and that might not even work." So not (and I speak from experience here) the best stop for a multi-stop trip where time is of the essence.

  Worth the Trip?: Really depends how into it you are. If this is somewhere you specifically want to go, yes. If you have other plans in the next, like... rest of your life? Plan with care.

  Disboard

  I mean... I'm sure it's just a coincidence that so many of the places I ended up in seem to have gaming themes to them. Maybe our world is the odd one out?

  The world of Disboard is a dream come true if you're one of two things: an adept gamer or a flawless cheater. If you are neither of those things, though, you might have a bad time. Disboard functions on games in pretty much any way you can think of. Disputes on anything from rulership of a country to whether you're about to get robbed are handled via bets and competitions. And it could be anything, from a hand of poker to God-tier shiritori.

  If you're crazy lucky or crazy smart, you'll probably rock Disboard within hours. But if you've got my kind of luck?

  It might be best to leave the gaming to the pros.

  Worth the Trip?: Even if you're a garbage-tier gamer, Disboard is really beautiful. So you can at least take in the sights and do your best to stay out of trouble.

  The Hidden Realm

  The first thing you're told about traveling in other dimensions is not to eat the food. But you know what? I'm already in too deep. Might as well enjoy myself.

  The Hidden Realm is that mysterious place where gods and demons live—and when you have a realm of gods and demons, what do you need? Come on, you've watched enough anime to know this... that's right. An inn. And inns need food. Sadly, the Tenjin'ya has some pretty boring food in its main restaurant.

  But turn a few corners and go around the back of the property, and you will find the best little Japanese/spirit fusion restaurant. Seriously, it's crazy good. And it's run by a human girl who learned how to cook for spirits, so you know you're getting quality.

  Worth the Trip?: Completely. I mean, okay. Whether or not the spirits will be nice to you really depends on their personalities, so you might meet a few jerks. But that food.

The Kingdom of Belfast

  Belfast is part of a larger world that's accessible in one of two ways: you can either cross dimensions, or you can, uh... die. I highly recommend the first one if you have any sort of choice in the matter.

  That said, dying and being reborn in this world does apparently net you some profits. There's been a case where the person reborn here was actually able to use all seven facets of the world's magic. (For reference, you're usually going to run into people who can use one or two at best.) That's going to make you popular... especially with the ladies, apparently.

  Added bonus? Finally got reception again! This is another place where, if you've got any smart devices, you can make use of them once again. I'm not entirely sure what roaming charges are here and elsewhere... frankly, I've been too afraid to look.

  Worth the Trip?: With good reception, plenty of magic to go around, and some frankly adorable fashions going on? I'll give it a thumbs up.

  El-Hazard

  And so we come (maybe?) to the end of my journey. I hope. I think. With a stop in El-Hazard, a world that's equal parts ancient tech and Arabian Nights culture. And, you know, I kind of dig it. Beautiful scenery, really cool magic and machines, and...

  Bugs? Oh. Yeah. I forgot. There's literally an entire nation of giant bug people. Called Bugrom. They also might be a little at war with the humans here, and their might be some doomsday items scattered around.

  But I mean besides that, it's actually pretty fun. Lots of room to wander and explore, a variety of landscapes, interesting people... and bugs.

Worth the Trip?: Depends how you feel about giant insects and ancient biomechanical creatures — conditional yes.

  If you find yourself in another world (whether on purpose or through a completely honest and understandable accident Nate), stay smart. Bring a solar-powered charger. Be prepared to rule at least one kingdom or tribe while you're there. Look for sad girls with glowing necklaces, because they tend to know what's going on—and whatever you do... try not to touch anything. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I'm only okay with Kara missing the cafe coverage because she brought souvenir snacks. We good.]

-----

Kara Dennison is responsible for multiple webcomics, and is half the creative team behind the OEL light novel series Owl's Flower. She blogs at karadennison.com and tweets @RubyCosmos. Her latest book, Black Archive #21 – Heaven Sent, is currently available from Obverse Books.

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[lalka-laski]

Can you recommend any Neil Gaiman to me, aside from Stardust or Good Omens? The only book I’ve read of his was “The Ocean at the End of the Lane.” It was good, just not really my scene. 

What’s the best concert you’ve been to, if you’ve been? The Killers, hands down. 

Is there an animal you like that most people don’t? I kinda like spiders and most people are terrified of them. Which makes me the designated spider-catcher whenever one’s nearby. (I never kill them. Just relocate them!)

Is there an animal that you think is overrated in terms of how it’s liked? Dogs 

Do you find yourself listening to music that’s a bit more esoteric? I guess sometimes. But a great deal of what I listen to could be considered “mainstream.” 

What are your three favorite books and why? This is an impossible question! So I’ll respond with the 3 best books I’ve read *lately* Water for Elephants, This Close to Okay, What Comes After (I’m still in the middle of it but I sense it’ll become a fave!) 

What about authors? Anita Shreve, Taylor Jenkins Reid, Patti Callahan Henry Do you have any likes you wouldn’t tell someone until you got to know them? I have some ~guilty pleasures~ but I’m not so ashamed of them that I’d keep them secret. 

Do you have a favorite language? Polish

What about a place you’ve always wanted to visit? Poland, Northern Ireland, Iceland

Do goldfish crackers ever make you sick, or is that just me? Nah I enjoy them.

Do you have a favorite art style? I’m not familiar enough with art technique/history. 

Do you have a favorite myth/fairy-tale? Sleeping Beauty, of course! 

Who is your favorite person aside from family? Glenn 

Do any of your pets (if you have them) have weird quirks? I don’t have pets. And probably won’t ever. 

Do you listen to music from anywhere besides America? How boring would my life be if I limited myself to only music from America (or any single country for that matter). 

Have you ever “quit” a site and came back to it more than once? Facebook a couple times

Do you have an “odd” fascination with anything?  I’m sure there are several things but of course I can’t think of any at the moment What is the thing you want most at this moment? I guess I’d prefer not to be at work but it’s really not so bad. 

What was the last book you read and what was it about? I’m currently reading What Comes After about the aftermath of the deaths of two teenage boys 

What was the worst book you’ve ever read & why? There have been several I’ve started and couldn’t bear to finish. 

Do you have a favorite breed of dog or cat? Which? Nah I’m not much of a dog OR cat person. 

If you like any anime/manga, what are some titles you recommend? I don’t watch it but Glenn’s a huge fan and could rattle of a looooong list if you were interested

What’s the hardest thing you’ve been through, & what did you learn from it? I think it’s kinda of weird to rank my painful experiences like that. I’ve felt pain in different ways at different points of my life. 

What are three “unrealistic” things you want most? My dream body, my dream house, my dream career

What are some of your favorite foods? Pizza, falafel, popcorn, chips & dips (I’m a snacker for sure) 

Where do you like to buy your clothes? Lately I’ve just been buying bullshit on Amazon (and then getting disappointed when the quality & fit are terrible). But my favorite stores are Windsor & Express. 

Do you take any daily vitamins? Magnesium & B12

Who are three of your favorite fictional characters of all time? Elle Woods, Lizzie McGuire, Mr. Gellar from Friends 

If you had to give the world a pre-existing mythological/fictional being, what would it be? Mermaids. Just because they’d be cool as hell. 

When buying Slurpees, if you do, do you get only one flavor or mix them? I haven’t had a slurpee since I was a kid, but IIRC I liked Blue Raspberry. 

Do you have a favorite 7Eleven food? We don’t have many 7Elevens around me but I will admit I love me some gas station/convenience store food.

Do you have any desire to learn (a) foreign language(s)? Which? Polish, because I want to speak the language of my ancestors. And because I just think it’s beautiful.

If you could have any career, “realistic”-ness aside, what would it be? Published author or maybe a content creator for a lifestyle blog/magazine. 

What are three memorable movies from your childhood? Sleeping Beauty, of course. Toy Story, Monster’s Inc 

Do you, personally, put a space after ellipses, or not? Nope

Micky D’s sweet tea, y/n/other? Not a fan of sweet tea, period. 

What are three of your best (non-physical) qualities? Friendliness, empathy, creativity. 

What are three of your worst (again; non-physical) qualities? Anxiousness, hyper-sensitivity, impulsiveness 

What is one of your firmest beliefs? Moe’s is FAR superior to Chipotle in every conceivable way. 

Do you ever question things until you’re unsure of even the silliest thing? Yeah, overthinking is my superpower. 

Do you have anything that keeps you from doing something you’d truly enjoy? ~ANXIETY~ What are your three biggest pet peeves (personality-wise) in others? Arrogance, close-mindedness are the top of my list. I also can’t STAND conversation hogging. 

Do you work to fix your faults? Or at least, admit to them? I could work on them MORE... but yes I always own up to them. 

What are three of your best physical qualities? (NOT EYES!) Collarbones, nose, the shape of my lips 

What are some of your greatest aspirations? Write a book, have a family 

How do you hope the world will change, if at all? That’s just too heavy of a question. I’m just here to chill! 

What are three things that make you the happiest? My loved ones, my babies, good food! 

What is/are your view(s) on god, religion, spirituality, or relations to? I don’t subscribe to any fixed set of beliefs but I could be considered spiritual. 

Are you arachnophobic or scared of spiders in the least? No, I actually think they’re kinda cool. 

Do you play WoW? What do you think of it either way? Nope.

What kind of computer do you have? Windows 7/Vista/XP/Other? I’m at work and currently on a Dell. At home I have a Chromebook. 

What are you good at? Writing, worrying... 

What career do you hope to have? Writer

Are you taking any interesting classes in school/do you not attend? I’m done with school (for now)

If you don’t attend, are you taking any “lessons” for anything No, although there have been several creative writing courses and workshops I’ve had my eye on. I really should register for one.  A book/piece that has had an exceptional impact on your life? For Women who are Difficult to Love by Warsan Shire

If you know of pandora.com, what is your favorite station? I only listen to Pandora at work and the office usually has “Brunch Cafe Radio” on which plays a lot of coffehouse style singer/songwriters. I dig it! Have you ever “lost” a friend in any way? How did you deal? Of course I have. Friend “breakups” can be just as painful and life-altering as romantic ones and I wish that was discussed more.

Any music recommendations? I’m actually on the hunt for some new music so if anyone has reccs for ME... that’d be cool.

What are at least three of your biggest fears? Losing my loved ones, death, birds (:

Most recently read book that you liked? The last book I read in full was Jessica Simpson’s memoir Open Book. And it was surprisingly delightful & touching. 

Do you have a piece of jewelry you don’t like to take off? My claddagh ring & of course, my engagement ring.

Do you have a favorite quote? Why is it your favorite? Too many to list Any odd pastimes you have? I like reading the inmate profiles on Writeaprisoner.com, then googling the inmate’s names to find out what crime(s) they committed. 

Are you quirky in any way? (Name them please). I have some OCD tendencies that could be considered peculiar. Oh, I also hate wearing shoes or socks & prefer to be barefoot whenever possible. 

Political standing? Filthy liberal 

Do you have any piercings/what do you think about piercings? I have none as I just don’t think they suit me. But they look great on other people. 

Do you have a favorite material? Not really? 

What are three names you’d name a pet if you HAD to get a pet right now? Brixton, named for David Bowie’s hometown. 

Do you like to listen to dorky/amusing music? What’s considered dorky and/or amusing? 

Coffee vs. Tea vs. Energy Drinks: Order from favorite to least favorite. Coffee & tea are probably tied. And energy drinks are dead last. I avoid them. 

Do you like more “fruity” sweets or “savory” sweets? What the fuck is a savory sweet?

What do you hate the most? My anxiety 

What genres of music are your favorite? Most of my faves could be classified as alternative/soft-rock 

Do you believe in true love? Absolutely 

What are some of your favorite clothing accessories? I’m not big on accessories. I love sunglasses, though. 

If reincarnation exists, what sort of person would you want to be next? Someone born into wealth  What are some things you believe strongly in? Love, forgiveness, second chances 

Where’s your favorite place you’ve been? My family’s cottage in Canada 

What sort of books and movies do you like? Book-wise I love a good family drama or tragedy. And the occasional cutesy love story. As for movies, I want all rom-coms all day.

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Saturday? Read, write, maybe marathon a show, cook something yummy in the crockpot...

Is there a book you’ve read that really touched you? Have you MET me?

PC or MAC? PC 

What do you love doing? Reading, writing, spending time with loved ones, crafting, cooking, going out to eat, watching live music

If you could create the perfect world for yourself, what would it be? All my loved ones would be present, we’d have NO financial burdens, good health, plenty of free time to devote to our hobbies & passions

Do you think that fate plays a part in people’s lives? Somewhat, yeah. But action > everything.

Are you religious, spiritual, atheist…? Spiritual

Do you think that people throw the words “love” and “hate” around too much? Eh, maybe. But I’m a deeply emotional person so although I may say I love and hate things frequently, I mean it sincerely every time.

What is your favorite piece of technology that you own? My phone, no doubt. It’s glued to my hand. 

What’s a piece of technology you’d like to own? I’m not a real techhy person so I don’t need much besides what I already have. 

Are you afraid of technology developing to where we’re too reliant on it? We’re past that point my dude. 

Does it bother you when people do things to fit in with a certain crowd? Yeah, but I can’t say I don’t do the same

Hot or cold? I’d much rather be cold. I am MISERABLE when hot & sweaty.  Do you think that Bzoink should extent the character amount for questions? What the hell is Bzoink

Do you have a favorite combination of complimentary colors? Pastel pink & pastel, dusty blue. (These are my dream wedding colors) 

What’s your favorite odd ice cream flavor? I love any kind of oatmeal/oat filled ice cream & people seem to find that weird?

Where do you like to get your ice cream? Moonlight Creamery holds a special place in my heart because that’s where I got engaged! And besides that, they really do have some of the best tasting ice cream I’ve ever had. 

What’s your opinion on stereotypes/labels? As humans it’s natural for us to categorized people based on past experiences. Is it always accurate? Of course not. But we all do it.

Do you believe that history repeats itself? Mhmmmmm 

Would you rather learn from your mistakes or just undo them? Wouldn’t it be nice to just undo them? And since I’m not great at learning from mine... 

What was the most interesting class you had in school? Any creative writing class, of course. Also my Kenyan Literature class was FASCINATING.  Do you write? If so, what? Yes. Mostly personal essays, some poetry & short stories

Do you have a favorite website? Facebook & Twitter are my go-tos. And Reddit when I can’t sleep.

Do you think that the quality of TV shows is going down? I’m not much of a TV watcher so I can’t comment. 

Do you have a favorite culture? Thar’s a borderline creepy question....  What was a story you heard as a child that really affected you? Any kind of ghost story or vaguely paranormal story fucked me up BAD

Who was your favorite grade-school teacher and why? My 5th grade teacher was a doll, so perhaps her. 

Do you think that the world will end? How? Can we NOT

Do you believe in Global Warming? Have you researched it? It’s not up for debate 

Do you prefer piercings or tattoos? I have one tattoo and zero piercings so I guess I’m on team tattoo 

Do you remember your dreams? Almost always 

[rex101111]

Punching in the Right Direction-chapter 1:

Another fic! :D And this time one with more then one chapter hopefully! Got this idea a while back during a conversation with @hatefilledpoptarts and I thought it was cool, but my computer dying almost cost me the whole thing, but thankfully I was able to retrieve it! (along with a bunch of other stuff) So! Here’s a thing I hope you like it!

In a police station in Shibuya, a very tired man is hunching over the front desk, his forehead pressed to the polished wood and his cap to the side of him, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck while the other hung behind the face of the desk.

The day was long, tedious to the point of tears, and more than anything else, uneventful. No stray pickpocket being dragged kicking and screaming to be written up and thrown in a cell for a month, no big busts or emergencies to speak of involving any more huge villain outbreaks, and because of this continuous streak of nothing his superiors thought it would be a good idea for him to spend the copious amount of time he had to sort through a veritable mountain of overdue paperwork from around the station that have built up over the last few months.

On the one hand he privately considered it tantamount to torture, but on the other he couldn’t help but be a bit grateful that something like what happened in the Kamino ward wasn’t plowing through the station, give and take.

He had just finished about half an hour ago, with the help of a few friendly civilian workers and more than a few near screams of frustration, and his shift would end an hour after that, so right now all he wanted was for the day to continue being a bore for just that long so he wouldn’t have to add on overtime on top of that.

But, as these things tend to turn, a fairly muscle bound man decided that this was the perfect time to enter to enter the station, by way of kicking the door open, and make the day just a bit more eventful.

He was large in every sense of the word; he was at least seven feet tall, broad shouldered with arms like raw iron pipes and legs like tree trunks, muscles seeming to bulge on every surface visible to the eye, and there was plenty to see considering he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and as soon as he entered the station his presence seemed to fill the whole room.

The fact that his entrance had every single officer in the building pointing guns at him didn’t diminish how suffocating his simply being present had felt.

His myriad of flame red bruises and mildly bleeding cuts that covered his whole torso weren’t much help either.  

He looked back and forth between all the wary officers, pointedly ignoring their command to put his hands up as he scratched his almost comically square chin, grunting, “….So,” He started making every person in the room jump and making one policeman fire off a shoot, which sailed over the large man’s head without him even acknowledging it, “This is a police station yeah?”

Nobody answered him properly, only more demands for him to put his hands over his head.

He sighed, “Oh for fuck’s sake…” He turned around to look behind him, “Kid, you try talking to these bozos.”

Among the screaming of the officers, a tiny figure emerged from behind the man’s legs, her small stature being compounded by the immediate comparison to the muscle bound individual, and she peeked nervously at the people around her shouting, and found that she couldn’t gather the courage to speak.  

Not that she needed to, as soon enough people started noticing her, and how close she was standing to the intruder, some started quietly lowering their guns, a few others tried to beckon her closer to what they considered safety, only the tired policeman at the front desk, whose tired day slowed down his reaction considerably, was able to fully comprehend the situation.

Well, as much as can be gleaned about it anyway.

He cleared his throat, earning him the attention of both the police officers and the two visitors, “Can…can I…help you…sir?”

The man in question sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his head, “Fucking finally, someone who doesn’t want to kill me today,” He looked straight at the front desk, “Yeah! The name’s Kendo Rappa, I’m here to turn myself in!”

His announcement caused a great deal of confusion in the room, whoever didn’t lower their firearms already did so, and the front desk clerk was fairly stumped himself, but decided to roll with it, taking out the proper forms while nodding numbly, before something occurred to him, “Wait…what about the girl?”

“Oh?” He looked down at the girl, who was now clutching the fabric of his torn pants, the horn on the side of her head digging a bit into his sore leg as she clung to it, but he ignored that and just pointed down to her, “She’s Eri, she’s why I came here,” He gestured vaguely around the room, “Y’know, to turn myself in.”

The clerk nodded his head slowly, keeping his eyes on the girl as she seemed to keep to her position next to Rappa with no intention to budge, before returning his gaze to the man, “Alright, but what do you want us to do with her?”

Kendo opened his mouth, only to stop short to scratch at his chin again. He did this a few more times, unintentionally defusing what little tension there still was in the room before his just rubbed the back of his head, his face tired and a bit annoyed, “Shit…” He muttered between his teeth, just barely loud enough to be carried across the room, “I don’t fuckin’ know, didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

The clerk stares at him for a few long moments, before he takes out the rest of the forms needed for the processing of new inmates, already seeing the overtime he would need to punch in because of this, hoping the chief would see fit to send him home before it got too dark.

----

Of course, that there is only how our story begins to wrap up, so the question remains, what led up to it?

The short answer being that it started a few months before, miles away from the station, and miles more below the concrete of the bustling streets.

It started with Rappa, still wearing the heavy black mask that donated his position as one of the mighty Eight Expendables in service to the Eight Precepts, walking around the hallways of the base out of hair pulling boredom.

It started with Eri running into his legs at full tilt, the impact causing her to fall on her backside, her eyes shooting up to gaze up at this massive tower of muscle and blood lust that was Kendo Rappa, utter terror making her shake where she lays.

It started with Chisaki calmly catching up to her looking down on her with a gaze only fit for a lamb meant for slaughter, before raising his gaze to meet Rappa’s wilted mask, “Thank you Rappa, you just saved me a few hours chasing her down,” He leered back down at Eri, “Come Eri, enough messing around, we’ve things to do.”

It started with Rappa noticing how utterly desperate and afraid this girl is, how she gets up as slow as she can, shivering all the way up, to face Overhaul, slowly following him back with a lowered head.

It started with Eri throwing Rappa a look that was as loud as a shrill scream at the top of the lungs, seeming to beg for help.

It started with Rappa walking away, averting his eyes from the girl, the clenching in chest that he gets from her eyes pissing him off. He takes long, heavy strides, and just keeps going and going until he runs out of breath, an hour passing like nothing.

It starts a few moments afterward, when that clenching refused to go away, and the memory of the silently screaming look she gave him burning on the back of his eyelids.

----

Weeks pass, and in that time Rappa comes to a fairly belated discovery.

He doesn’t know a damned thing about Overhaul’s plan. Well, that wasn’t completely true, he knew a few snippets of it, some random details that together provided a fairly nebulous picture of the end goal of the Eight Precepts, but he doesn’t know enough, not enough to really be invested one way or another, not enough to inspire in him this burning loyalty that every other Expendable had for the bird faced prick.

There was one very simple reason for that, Rappa didn’t give a shit. Not about the Precepts, not about Overhaul, not about whatever lofty dream they were all supposedly chasing. Not one, single, solitary shit.

At least…he wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t there to serve at the pleasure of some germaphobe who was looking to bring back the “glory days of the Yakuza”, he was there to punch a dude’s teeth in, kill him, and then kill anyone who tried to stop him while he was on his way out, that was the plan, his plan, and it was a damned good one as far as he saw it.

Or at least it was a few months ago when he “joined” the Precepts, now he was beginning to realize he should have thought about it more.

Headache inducing hindsight aside, the fact was Rappa was stuck; the one person who he wanted to kill in this entire place only gave him a chance at him rarely, and always on his terms, and he was surrounded by a bunch of morons who thought this asshole with a beak stuck to his face was the bloody second coming, and took every opportunity to remind him of that whenever he dared to do something as audacious as speaking his mind.

All this put together piqued his curiosity a bit, but never enough to make him actually care to ask exactly what it was Overhaul planned to do.

And then he ran into a scared little girl, and now Rappa couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop wondering what the hell this girl had to do with anything, why Overhaul himself seemed to grant his undivided attention to her.

Couldn’t stop wondering why she was so damned scared.

To his infinite frustration, Kendo started giving a shit, and as most things tend to do, it pissed him off.

So he did what he always did when he was pissed off, he looked for something, or more preferably someone, to punch. Today, that person was Tengai.

“Think fast asshole!”

A series of bellowing crashes bounced around the room, random grunts still fresh to the Precepts fleeing from the sound as quickly as they could, a few veterans only speeding up their stride a bit to gain some distance, Rappa was known for his temper, so this was not an uncommon sight by any means, but that didn’t diminish the spectacle of Rappa throwing a hail of lightning fast strikes towards one of their own, the impacts shaking the concrete walls of the complex like a dozen canons going off at once for each hit.

The barrier monk noted that Rappa was especially pissed today, seeing that he was putting considerably more force into his strikes than usual, even throwing a few curse words between the punches, he raised his brow as he saw the maniac start to breathe heavily and just keep punching, like he was trying to work something else out besides his temper.

He calmly put down the book he was reading, looking straight at Rappa, silently putting his palms together as he spoke up, “Feeling stressed today Rappa?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Kendo screamed, throwing a particularly harsh punch smashing into the monk’s barrier, “Ain’t in the mood for your pseudo-Buddha bullshit!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Tengai observed, “Though that would invite the question of why you’re so stressed?”

“I said shut up!”

The barrage continued for another few minutes, the raging man slowly winding down until his fists hung limply at his sides, a few droplets of blood seeping through his gloves, and Tengai spoke up again, “Whatever it is, it must be fairly serious, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this riled up before.”

Rappa breathed heavily for a few more moments, before slumping down a nearby wall, making a point of not looking at Tengai, “Nothin’, just been a shitty couple of weeks.”

Tengai only raised his eyebrows at that, “You just spent the last ten minutes pounding away at my barrier while screaming your head off,” He said, tone even and unimpressed, “I think ‘shitty’ would be putting it lightly.

Rappa didn’t respond, only continued to look at the wall ahead of him, only caring to put his breathing back in order.

Tengai sighed, picking up his book again, “Fine,” He muttered easily, “Keep sulking like a child if that’s what you want to do,” He flipped pages until he came back to where he was before, “No skin off my back.”

They’re quiet for a long moment, motes of dust floating in the air and tiny chunks from the ceiling falling around them, either bouncing off Tengai’s shield or swatted away by Rappa’s hands. For that long moment, Rappa only stared ahead at the wall, before finally breaking the silence with a shake of the head, “Met a girl a few weeks back.”

Tengai didn’t even lift his eyes from the page he was on, “How sweet.”

“A little girl.”

“How disgusting.”

Rappa whipped his head towards the monk and rapped the back of his knuckles on his shield, “Not like that you jackass!” He huffed while he flexed his sore fingers, “In the base I mean, a little girl with white hair and a horn sticking out the side of her head running around, you know her?”

This time Tengai did lift his eyes to meet Rappa, looking slightly alarmed, “Of course I know her, that’s Eri!” He put the book down again without bothering to mark his page, “What was she doing running around?”

Kendo shrugged, “Fuck if I know, looked pretty scared though,” He scratched his chin, “Was even more scared when Overhole caught up to her and took her some place, ”He looked more intently at Tengai, who breathed in relief when he mention the girl being taken, “What’s his deal with her anyway? She his daughter or something?”

Tengai blinked, and gave Rappa a look of utter amazement, “Do you ever pay attention to anything?”

Another strike crashed against the invisible shield, “Do you want a broken jaw?”

A long suffering sigh escaped Tengai, “Eri isn’t his child…though she is important to him,” He looked straight into the eyes of Rappa’s mask, “In fact; she is the very cornerstone on which he is building his plans.”

Rappa paused, choking down his reflex to call out Tengai on bullshitting him, “The hell are you talking about?”

Tengai began to speak more passionately, as the rest of the Expendables tended to do when discussing anything having to do with Overhaul, “Overhaul has made a wondrous discovery in Eri, within her lays a quirk that will serve as the lynchpin of the ascension of the Precepts to the top of the criminal world.”

Rappa couldn’t hold it in, laughter shaking him as Tengai’s speech went on, only to burst when he mentioned her quirk, “Okay, now I know you’re full of crap.” He shook his head, thinking back to when he met Eri, “The kid I met was a spindly little twig,” With eyes so desperate he still can’t forget them, he fails to mention, “What? Can she make nukes out of her tears or some shit?”

Tengai visibly deflates at the sound of Rappa’s mocking and laughter, huffing as he narrows his eyes at him, “Nothing quite so crude…although,” He picks up his book again, tiring of Rappa, “I think it’s fair to say that she has the most powerful quirk in the world.”

Rappa clicked his tongue, “Full of shit, no way, no way that a kid that-“ (scared, tired, small) “-weak can have a quirk that damn strong.”  

Tengai just keeps on reading, his generosity regarding his attention and time having apparently run out, even making a point of making a shooing motion with one of his hands as he turned a page.

Rappa stares at him for a moment, huffs, and throws one more punch his way before stomping his way out.

The nagging feeling in his chest morphs and shifts, becoming an itch on the back of his head.

No helping it now, if he’s already giving a shit, might as well scratch it.

-----

Chisaki Kai sits at his desk inside his personal office, looking over various files, his eyes roaming across the pages slowly and carefully.

Recent purchases of “Trigger”, info on new recruits, and most importantly of all, developments in regards to his most important project. He scans the information on those pages far more carefully than even the others, making sure he commits to memory what has been discovered so far and the progress yet to be made.

As he formed his actions for the rest of the day regarding that progress in his head, he hears a commotion outside his door.

“Get out of my way, need to talk to Overho. “

“Rappa you can’t just-“

“Out of my way.”

“Overhaul is too busy right-“

“I said-“

Overhaul knocked on the metal surface of his table twice, stopping the noise, “Come in Rappa.”

A moment passes, his guard shuffling out of the way as Rappa nearly knocked the door of its hinges as he opened it, peering down the beak of his mask at his so called "boss." He could see Chronostasis lean forward to look inside, one of his hands twitching near his gun.

Chisaki shifted his eyes slightly in his direction, which made him stiffen in place before leaning back away from view. He then shifted his eyes back up to look at Rappa, who had still not said a word since he entered, which was strange in every sense, considering his temperament.

"Can I help you Rappa?"

"The fuck are you planning?"

….well, this could be interesting.

#my hero academia #Rappa #Eri (bnha) #stuff rex wrote #punching in the right direction

[monsterlovinghours]

All of the soft asks 👀

WOW you're literally the sweetest and I love you so much 💖💖💖💖🌸Blankets: Have you been in love? -Yes! Am currently still in love.🌸Stuffies: How did you meet your best friend? -One I met at a college worship service, and the other I met on OkCupid.🌸Fluffy Pillows: What happened in your most recent dream? -Sadly, I very rarely remember my dreams.🌸Scented Candles: How do you relax? -Hot soaks with a bath bomb, lots of orgasms, rain sounds, and retail therapy. Not necessarily in that order. 😉🌸Gem Stones: What’s your birthstone/favourite stone?-My birthstone is sapphire, but my favorite stone is amethyst. I actually have a tattoo of a cluster of amethyst crystals.🌸Pyjamas: Describe your favourite pyjamas!-Black cotton shorts and a tshirt. Add socks in the wintertime. 🌸Fuzzy Socks: What’s your favourite movie?-It (2017) followed closely by Silence of the Lambs.🌸Kittens & Puppies: Name of your pet or your ideal pet? I have two kitties, Ryu and Salem.🌸Laughter: What’s the funniest joke you’ve heard? It wasn't so much a joke as my friend being funny, but not too long ago my friend Chris was over, and at some point one of the potatoes in our pantry had escaped and was just lying on the kitchen floor. About the time we all noticed there was just...a potato, just hanging out, Chris dramatically throws his arms out toward this wayward potato and in an impeccable Irish accent, yells "HENRY ME SON, WHAT WOEFUL FATE HAS BEFALLEN YE? NEVER A FINER LAD THERE WAS IN THE VALLEY." I don't think I took a breath for ten minutes.🌸Mittens: Do you like the snow? I love it!!!🌸Hot Coco: What’s your favourite Starbucks drink? I don't really go to Starbucks that often except for PSL season, so we'll say pumpkin spice.🌸Soft Kisses: Describe your OTP I self-ship a lot, so my OTP is my self-insert Molly and whichever Bill Skarsgard character I'm currently obsessed with. Right now, it's Henry Pearl, the softest of boys. 🌸Rainy Days: What do you do on a rainy day?Open all the windows, put on Brian Crane, drink lots ofntea, and take naps. 🌸Flower Petals: What’s your favourite flower?The iris! It's sort of become a symbol for the women in my family.🌸Cotton Candy: What’s your favourite candy? Reeses, in all its variations.🌸Bubble Baths: Your favourite memory? When I was 18 and my cousins took me to go see The Producers at the Starlight Theatre.🌸Wooly Scarfs: What song do you think relates the most to you? Oh God. I honestly don't know, I relate songs more to characters than to myself. I guess Raglan Road, by the High Kings.🌸Roasted Marshmallows: Your camping with friends! Describe the forest you’re pitching your tent in. Well, it's right next to a lake. The trees aren't very old, and there's still plenty of light because the leaves are starting to turn and fall. We're bundled up in cozy sweaters at night, and the fire is big and bright.🌸Bird Songs: Name 5 things you love 1. The fact that Bill Skarsgard exists2. Roses3. Black cats4. My friends who put up with my bullshit5. My online community🌸Old Books: Do you read? If so, what’s your favourite book series? I do! I really like the Iron Druid series, though offhand I can't remember who writes it. Of course I love Harry Potter, have since 2nd grade. And I really want to get more into the Parasol Protectorate series.🌸Warm Hugs: Who would you love a hug from right now?Bill Skarsgard or Tom Hiddleston. Just wrap this big ol' gangly limbs around me and rock until I forget I was ever sad.🌸Clouds: What’s the best shaped cloud you’ve seen?When I was young, I saw a cloud that was almost exactly shaped like our Christmas tree angel. Also I saw this cool wall cloud a few years ago that actually ended up being a tornado later that night. We chased the damn thing for about seven miles then went drinking. Welcome to Kansas.🌸Fae: Describe yourself as a fairy Chubby, literally always covered in sparkles, purple everything, moth-like wings.🌸Holding Hands: What was the name of your first love? Tobi. 💖🌸Cupcakes: Favourite cupcake flavour? Red velvet 🌸Tealights: Describe a romantic date perfect for you Dinner (doesn't matter where), a walk through the Plaza, kissing by all the fountains-there's a lot of them. End with a drive out to the country with some blankets and a bottle of wine to stargaze. 🌸Gardens: What’s the sweetest gift you’ve received?Last year for Valentine's day, my girlfriend got me a custom book full of 50 things she loved about me. She also gave me this giant jar full of Hershey's kisses, and she said, "There's 365 in there. One for every day I couldn't kiss you." (We were long distance at the time)