#???? i guess it is

[lumpy-veev]

Yi was the sun.

Kuafu’s dialogue in the beginning of the game holds a lot of hints to how he dealt with Yi’s apparent death. Like, the idea of Ruyi going therapist mode is hilarious, but Kuafu has seemingly been pretty depressed for a while despite how happy we see him after, which is probably due to Yi, ShuanShuan, and Ruyi. He deserves all the hugs and happiness ever for going through 500 years of sad. (Sorry this got long, thought about this way too much)

Yi was the sun.

[cryptskeep]

To me Mumbo Jumbo is just some dude who was given the lamest superpower ever (British). He has the energy of constantly being in a banana costume. Does this make sense to anyone else?

[satorlrosecat]

It's come to my attention that tumblr never got to see these

[sunnynwanda]

Hi! Ive been following you for a long while and I love your writing so much!

If you feel like it, could you write a hero x villain, one of which is the type to get touchy and playful when drunk and accidentally confesses to the other like that? With the other being surprised

Ofc you can take it in whatever way you want! :D

Do Your Worst

Warnings: intoxication, slightly suggestive (i guess?), bad flirting xD

Villain was stoic. Cold as ice, unmoving as a mountain. They never flinched, never winced, never recoiled. No matter how strong the blow was, no matter how bad it hurt. No muscle dared to twitch on their carved face, not one sound escaped their pale lips.

They were made of stone - Hero was sure of it. 

Here remembered their first battle with Villain, the power of their blows unmatched, rumbling in the emptiness of the building, concrete crushing under their fists as they chased Villain relentlessly. In retrospect, Hero knows they must have broken at least five ribs, if not more. Yet, the only reaction they got from Villain was a quirked eyebrow - a mocking challenge. A dare to keep going, to give more. Bring it on.

Do your worst. 

Hero hated those words despite having heard them a thousand times before. A spark ignited deep within, turning into lightning, rushing through their veins like a wave. Passion and power. Hero had no idea where to draw the line. Villain was insatiable in their hunger, unstoppable in their pursuit of a thrill. Yet there was no satiating Hero's thirst either - they wanted more. More fire, more freedom. More of Villain.

But Villain was the epitome of indomitable. Impassive. Equable.

All the more surprising was the state they found Villain in today. No, surprising was not the word for what they were feeling. They were struck dumb, astonished, speechless. Anything but surprised as they take in the look of Villain swaying on their feet and coming to a halt in front of them with the sweetest pout on their soft lips. 

"Baby-y," they exclaim, excitement colouring their voice in a way Hero has never heard before. "What are you doing here?" 

Hero staggers back, their eyes blown wide. Villain attempts a smile, their lips curling up to reveal the dimples on their cheeks. Hero feels their heart skip a beat at the sight.  

"Villain, are you alright?" They start cautiously, part of them suspecting that their nemesis has been drugged. 

Villain nods, failing to form a stern expression and setting on an adorable frown. "Mhm. Missed you. So much." Their words come out slurred but manage to send Hero's eyebrows up into their goddamn hairline. 

"You... what?" Hero mumbles out, breath hitching in their throat as they process the words. They are quick to react when Villain stumbles forward, gripping Hero's outstretched arms for stability. 

Except, they don't stop at that. Once Hero steadies them and lets go of their hands, Villain doesn't step back. Instead, they wrap their arms around Hero's waist and rest their chin on Hero's chest as they tilt their head up. 

"Hi, baby," they muse, their pupils dilated from intoxication. Hero's throat goes dry at the sight, their hands twitching to touch Villain's flushed cheekbones, brush their fingers over the sensitive skin, ignite them the same way Villain's words have them on fire. 

"Hi," Hero breathes out, their mind spinning. "You're drunk." They state the obvious, earning a deep rumble of a chuckle from Villain. 

"Mhm," Villain hums, leaning closer, their chest flush against Hero's. "And you're pretty." 

"I- w-what?" Hero stutters out, their brain short-circuiting when Villain's hand slides up their chest to their neck, their fingers brushing the side of Hero's neck. "What are you doing?"

"Hm?" Villain looks up at them, blinking innocently and sending a shiver down Hero's spine. Holy mother of god. 

Hero wants to remove Villain's hands from their body, they really do. But, the moment they actually try, Villain gives them the most adorably heart-shattering pout they have ever seen, and who the hell is Hero to refuse them? 

They sigh heavily, cupping Villain's jaw, their thumb rubbing soft circles into their cheek. "Shh, let me get you home, okay?" They ask, gazing intently into Villain's heavy-lidded eyes. Villain nods, leaning into their touch with unexpected desperation, their lips parted in strained pants.

Hero draws them closer, holding them upright, but almost drops them when their apathetic nemesis yelps. Hero stares at their enemy cradled in their arms when Villain does the unthinkable. They giggle. The sound rings through the air, and Hero all but dies on the spot, their mouth hanging agape for a moment too long, drawing another soft laugh out of Villain, who must have decided to break Hero's mind because they wrap their arm around Hero's shoulders, nuzzling into their neck. 

"I've wanted to do this for so long," they mutter against Hero's skin, sending a flood of lava down their throat. Hero lets out a guttural groan, barely restraining themself from lifting Villain's head from their shoulder and devouring them on the spot. 

"Villain, please," Hero whispers, unsure of what they are pleading for - for Villain to stop or to keep going. Keep ruining me.

Villain shakes their head, their lips brushing against the side of Hero's neck when they speak again. "I won't have the guts to say this when I'm sober," they confess, and Hero freezes, too stunned to move, speak or even breathe.

They can't remember what they need the air for when Villain's cold fingers trace the outline of their lips. They feel intoxicated, Villain's drunken state influencing them in the strangest way possible, making them feel lightheaded like no alcohol ever could. 

"Villain," Hero warns through gritted teeth, struggling desperately to maintain control and composure when Villain stands on their tiptoes, leaning on Hero's chest for stability. "One more word from you, and I won't be responsible for my actions."

They press their forehead to Villain's, their eyes meeting with scorching intensity, Hero's gaze glowing with insanity and desire.

Villain might be made of stone, but Hero isn't. 

Hero is on the verge of falling apart, crumbling under Villain's smouldering hands like they are made of clay. 

"Do your worst," Villain whispers against their lips, and Hero loses it, capturing Villain's mouth, crushing into them with a groan rambling in the back of their throat. 

No, Hero is not made of stone. And neither is Villain.

A/N: Hi, sweetheart! Oh my, thank you so much :) You have no idea what this means to me and how good it makes me feel to receive requests and notes like this! Love you with all my heart <3 xo Sunny

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing@lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist@excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers@miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon@burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney@thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode@villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

[thee-horny-thicky]

The feminine urge to write fics with TF141, but being intimidated by how people from that island speak. Trying to capture the slang and accents seems so intimidating 😭

[fiction-phan]

We’re back!

More than 6 years later and I’m baaaackkkkkk…and so are they 🥹🥹

[schmeap]

WHATS UP GAMERS THIS YEARS INKTOBER BROUGHT TO YOU IN OCTOBER

I'm doin a series of lil pumpkin guy doing halloween adventures which means i do NOT break halloween rule!! HALLOWEEN RULES ALL WOOOOOOOO WELCOME TO AUTUMN BABY

Next

Prompt list under cut, courtesy of painterlypetal who is NOT on either of the sites I post on (oops)

[12-toads-in-a-trench-coat]

possum :3

ive just come to the conclusion that this technically qualifies as furry art so. I'm now a furry artist because there's more of this on the way.

[billy-hours]

Billy hates sex

It’s something he has to do. Or he thinks he has to. Sure, there is a physical reaction. But the emotional part is hard for him. Having sex grosses Billy out.

And he’s explored the options. Gender wise. He can fuck men and he can fuck women. But there’s not a lick of satisfaction in the mix. It’s all bodies. Sweaty fucking sea lions. Bumping into each other.

Pressure. Too much.

Billy hates sex.

But he’s sexualised by everyone. Something he can’t control but the expectation laid on him. Hot guy. And the whole mess of it makes him sick. But there’s this pressure on him. To do it. To fuck people. To be what they expect.

Mouths are nasty. Full of bacteria. Can’t be sure anyone treats their mouths well. Billy brushes for six minutes. Rinses with mouthwash twice. Flosses until his arms go numb. But there’s probably shit stuck in his teeth, right? Stuff he can’t see.

Then there’s the shame. He’s a young man. Sex is supposed to clog his brain. Sex, sex, sex. All he’s supposed to think about. And it’s a burden. Ruins connection. He might like someone a lot. Then he fucks them and he can’t seem to look at them again. Gives him the label of playboy.

But maybe he’s looking for someone who doesn’t want that. A companion who doesn’t care for sex. A dream. Never gonna happen. Can’t stand the disappointment on peoples face when he doesn’t make the move. So then he makes the move.

His whole life he’s trying to make his dad happy, it translates. Billy doesn’t like to disappoint. So he betrays his own body. Just to lie awake. Feel sick. Traumatized by the own shit he does. To please.

But Billy thinks he’s meant to please people. Even if it hurts him.

[blotb0x]

my unpopular mechs opinion is that i dont like the toy soldier. it annoys me. i dare you to change my mind

[ashton-ryder]

bold what applies to your muse, italicize situational ones. feel free to add your own suggestions and carry it on.

tagged by: stolen from zach

tagging: steal it from zach

VOICE HC / MEME

► ACCENT  

“country” │ “backwoods” │ “sailor” │ “upper class” │ "small town" │ “city slicker” | foreign speaker │ refined  

► ELOQUENCE

educated │self-taught | uneducated | doesn’t use conjunctions │ shortens words | omits entire words on occasion | mixes up words │ just makes up their own words! │ archaic english │ dependent on mood or setting | doesn’t use contractions

► TONE

loud │ soft │ room volume │ high pitched │ low pitched │ steady | seductive │velvety │ speech impediment │ abrasive │ gruff │ shrill │ booming │ matter-of-fact │ toneless │ husky │ intimidating │gravelly │ breathy │ nasal │ vocal fry │ chatty │ condescending │ musical │ sarcastic │ suave │ world-weary │ brash │ no nonsense │ authoritative

► HABITS  

refers to self in third person│ incorporates different languages/terms/sayings │ uses gender-specific terms │ adapts to audience │ changes tone around animals or children │ shifts tone when lying │ gives others nicknames │ uses terms of respect towards others

► OTHER BITS

He lives in a softer vocal range, measured, steady and unassuming voice, making subtle sarcastic jokes and seemed like a quiet man until situation calls for it.

Such as when he's teaching a class or training recruits or on a mission or working, his voice can boom across a room and when he speaks like that, people listen.

He's been trying to wane off the habit more over the few years, but sometimes he still slips into the habit of using military terms, calling the hours by the hundreds, and only really catches himself when someone looks at him funny.

He's a very quiet laugher, a chuckle here, a scoff there, but if you're lucky to either have known him when he was younger or heard him with his guard down, he has a very charming, melodic laughter if it ever slips out with the brightest smiles, it's much rarer as he grew older, but it used to be known as the thing that draws people in.

He actually likes shortening names or using family names as nicknames a lot, a habit picked up from the marines, he responds to Ryder as quickly as he responds to Ashton or Ash.

He's a little bit tone death, please don't ask him to sing or hum, it won't be pretty. He unfortunately did not inherit his mom's lovely singing voice, perhaps just a powerful booming voice for other things, like yelling at recruits.

The way he talks about the stars and the sky and space, there is a special endearing tone it his words, soft, humbling, full of wander and curiosity, the reminder of their insignificance on a tiny rock in space.

He becomes especially quiet when he drinks, similar to every time he goes quiet, a lot is running through his head. But when he drinks, it numbs everything out, as if finally enjoying the numbing silence while he still could, before reality comes rushing back at him.

► VOICE CLAIM REFERENCE:

tw: video reference below contains mentions of abuse (and also tw for my heart for luke mitchell crying)

[bettertwin1]

Not to sound lame but sometimes I feel obligated to answer certain asks, but the asks really hurt to answer. I'm not sure how to vocalise it or ask you all to stop or how to say which ones hurt but yeah.

[sunnynwanda]

Point of No Return

Warnings: public execution, side character death, mentions of mass casualties, that's it ig. Let me know if I missed anything.

Villain knew they were done for from the moment the first crack ran across the wall. Despite its intensity, the battle had been relatively even up to that point, and they had every chance of making it out unharmed. They were fine. If only their Henchman didn't panic.

Villain sensed their distress almost immediately - they even managed to yell a choked "Don't!". But it was too late. Henchman pressed the damn button, detonating the pillars that were holding the building. It was never part of the plan, simply a backup to ensure the military wouldn't bomb the building they were in. If only Villain had picked a different - empty - one.

The cracks spread at a ferocious speed. Villain met Hero's eyes amidst chaos, and they could tell Hero knew too. Villain registered Hero grabbing their shoulder and yanking them away from falling rubble with a delay. "Get out!"

"But…" They didn't get to finish the sentence, their voice buried by the rumbling sound of the building collapsing around them. Another explosion shook the ground under their feet. Villain fell, hitting the back of their head harshly. The last thing they registered before the world around them was consumed by darkness was Henchman's tear-stained face and Hero's arms around them.

"It wasn't their fault."

That was the first thing Villain heard through the haze. The voice felt familiar, but they couldn't quite place it. They were sore all over, with unusual heaviness weighing down their limbs. They struggled to open their eyes, like their eyelids were made of lead. Their throat clenched, begging for water, yet they couldn't find their voice or remember what words to use to ask for it.

"Twenty-nine civilians, Hero! They killed twenty-nine civilians."

"Vil-" Hero stammers, squeezing their eyes shut for a moment. Their tongue tastes bitter in their mouth. The next sentence they utter feels like the last nail in the coffin.

"Villain did not order it."

That voice again. Was it Hero? But where was Henchman? Were they alright? The darkness was spinning around Villain's aching head. They must have mumbled something incomprehensive because, the next second, they felt someone gently take their hand and run circles over their knuckles. It felt comforting, and before Villain knew it, they fell into the embrace of the haze again.

They come to their senses two days later. Squinting their eyes, they look around, noting their surroundings. It looks like a hospital room. Huh. They must have been injured when the building collapsed. But why weren't they in their lair? Who could have brought them to a public hospital?

The answer to their question walks through the door before they can come up with a plausible explanation.

"You're awake," Hero states, their voice grave with something Villain is not aware of yet.

"Why am I here?" They attempt to lift themself, but Hero's hand presses to their chest, pushing them back down.

"Stay put. You shouldn't move that much." Villain shakes their head, and the room starts rotating upon the motion. They curse under their breath. Hero sits on the edge of their bed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Villain gritts, anxious at the way Hero's eyes look anywhere to avoid meeting their gaze. Something is wrong. "Where's Henchman?"

Hero freezes. Then they run a hand over their face, rubbing their eyebrows with a heavy sigh. No.

"They can't be…" before Villain can finish the thought, their eyes land on the TV across the room. The screen flashes from the reporter to what looks like a prison. And there they are, their Henchman. Scared, shaking and being led to… a wooden chair?

"What..?" Once comprehension dawns on them, Villain springs up, attempting to jump off the bed. Hero's arms wrap around them tightly from behind, catching them mid-air. "No! Let go of me! No! No, please, no…"

"Villain, please," Hero pleads, steeling themself to withstand the lamenting storm in their arms. "Calm down."

Villain screams, thrashing around in their arms, fighting to free themself from Hero's grip. Their eyes are glued to the screen, tears streaming down their face as Henchman is strapped to the chair.

"No, no, no," Villain cries out in despair, choking through their words as they will Hero to let them go. Hero's hold only tightens around them. "Ple-ase."

Their hands shake as they scratch at Hero's forearms, kicking their feet in the air and throwing their head back, but Hero does not yield or waver. The cameras focus on Henchman's face, and a new wave of anguish washes over Villain when the plug is pulled, and the electric current rushes through them. They watch Henchman jerk against their ties a few times, and their face contort into a grimace of sheer, scorching pain before their eyes turn to glass.

Villain lets out an animalistic howl, and their vision blurs, no longer focused on Henchman's body as it is unstrapped and dragged away. Villain's voice is stuck somewhere in their chest when they attempt to scream again, only short gasps escaping their dry lips. They feel like they've been submerged in hot water, flesh boiling off their bones. Their eyes burn, ready to pop out of their head to avoid the torment.

"Breathe, breathe," Hero whispers into their neck, hugging Villiain's trembling body closer. They try to restrict Villain's hands from clawing their chest open. "Stop hurting yourself. It's not your fault."

"They are dead," Villain wails, sagging into Hero's embrace like a ragdoll. "They're dead, they…"

Hero lays them down on the bed. Villain is no longer struggling, silent tears streaming down their face, interrupted only by occasional hiccups.

"I know." Hero's voice is small and full of regret. They run a hand through Villain's hair in an attempt to comfort them as best they can. "I'm sorry."

"I failed them," they sob, covering their face with their hands. Hero hates to witness them shatter into pieces and have no way of fixing it. "I let them die."

"Villain, it's not your fault," Hero repeats. They feel a fair share of guilt themselves. It was never meant to get this far. It was never meant to cause casualties. It was never meant to be a choice between the two, and Hero certainly was in no right of choosing. "I did everything I could to help them. I'm sorry."

"It was my job to protect them," Villain whimpers, hugging their arms around their body as it starts shaking violently. Hero pulls a blanket over them.

"And mine was to save the civilians in that building," Hero admits, dropping their head back to rest against the headboard. "We both failed."

If only they had been faster and had managed to get the people out.

If only they did not allow their cat-and-mouse game to get this far.

If only they did not choose Villain over and over again.

If only.

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose  @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life

[starlightshadowsworld]

Remember how they called Atsushi a man eating tiger....

Kunikida: Has anyone seen the guy who came through here!

Atsushi: You mean the one wearing that ugly blue cardigan who was being rude to you.

Kunikida: Yeah.. wait how did you know that?

Atsushi:... No reason.

Kunikida: Atsushi, where are they?

Atsushi: I don't coughs up blue buttons... Know

Kunikida: scandalised Atsushi?!

Dazai: bursts into laughter

Atsushi:... Oh how did those get there...

Kunikida: You can't just eat your problems!

Atsushi: Well it worked!

Dazai: laughs even more, falls out his chair Ah ha! Oh! You're killing me Atsushi.

Kunikida: done with the both of them

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Did Nigel ever interact with Grandfather before he passed? I'd assume he'd visit with Uncle Ben occasionally.

Actually, he visited once, after the Nightmare war, after he got news the man was pretty sick and about to pass.

He went to him and looked at the old man, who apparently had one last moment of lucidity. "...did he lose?" Grandfather asked, looking at the injured young man in front of him. Somehow, he was still standing. "Yes. We won." Nigel answered, coldly. "That little brat can't really do anything... at least I counted to 0... he couldn't even get down to 1." There was a lot Nigel wanted to say, but he just left without another word. He didn't deserve that.

Also, Nigel never visited Father unless it was a "KND visit". Especially after living two years with him.

He never hated anyone in his life. But Father.