#✒️writing tag✒️

[nyxthedragon225]

“Hey, Chip. You're dating Gill, right?”

Chip looked up in confusion and nodded. “You’ve seen me kiss her, Jay.”

“And we're dating, right?” Jay continued, unfazed by any actual logic.

“Pretty sure you’ve seen me kiss you too, so yeah.” Chip set his pen down fully from where he was writing logs to look at her fully.

“Okay. So does that make me and Gill, like, partners-in-law?” She set up her request with that line, holding her breath while Chip answered.

Chip hummed in thought and nodded. “I guess so.”

“What if I don't want that?” She was stalling. She was very definitely stalling and she was very very close to rambling but everytime she tried to actually say it, she felt her throat close up.

“Jay, honey, what are you saying?” Chip furrowed his brows. Jay took a deep breath.

“I think I’m in love with Gill,” she blurted.

[aviiarie]

thinking about columbina having a child, and adoring them more than anything else. they're not just the most important thing in her world—they are her world, nothing less. she sings them lullabies when they're young, her sickeningly sweet voice soothing them into sleep. even as they grown older, she still sings to them like they're small, sitting by their bedside if they can't sleep and humming melodies until they drift off.

thinking about columbina's child being the safest person in fatui headquarters. she makes sure that everyone, every harbinger, every guard, every person who walks through those doors knows that child is the damselette's little angel, and to hurt them is to face her wrath. not even the tsaritsa could save you from a mother scorned. when she isn't there to take care of them, she leaves them in arlecchino's hands instead; as a parent herself, she is the most logical choice. they're considered an honourary member of the house of the hearth—a cousin, of sorts, who stops by when their mother is too busy to keep an eye on them.

thinking about columbina who is by no means a gentle soul, but softens herself for her child. tight hugs that smother them in warmth, motherly kisses on the top of their head, she is nothing but doting towards them. her saccharine words are completely genuine when directed at them, no false sweetness or masked emotions. for some, she is a terrifying and cold harbinger. but for them? she is simply their kind, loving mother.

[written-in-the-clouds]

part 1

notes: i am so eepy but i just finished editing this so here it is <3

To most, you seemed to be Quirkless. No visual differences, no flashy Emitter ability, just an average person.

Still, you didn’t have that toe joint.

You frowned at a bag of chocolate, trying to decide if the price was worth it. Faintly, the store bell tinkled as someone stepped inside. The day was darkening, blue fading to orange fading to black. You exhaled, replacing the bag on the shelf. There were four other customers in the store and the cashier, excluding the one who had just entered. Someone sucked in a sharp breath, and another shrieked. You lifted your head.

The new patron had neatly trimmed black hair, a clean-shaven face, and a small smile. He surveyed the room silently as people stepped back, pressing themselves to shelves, fumbling for their phones, an air of panic rising. You blinked, frowned. 

Someone murmured, “What is that?!” and that’s when you realized that this must be a Quirk. The stranger stepped toward the counter as the cashier paled and raised an arm in a vain attempt to shield themself. A stupid plan began to formulate in your head as you noted the fear-paralyzed figures around them. You sent a message to the first chat you had open and walked out from the shelves.

Anxiety prickled at your neck and you swallowed it down harshly. The well-groomed stranger turned to you, grin sharpening and then suddenly fading when you didn’t react.

“Bravery or foolishness?” he mused quietly, as if not expecting you to hear. “Everyone has different reactions to fear.”

“What are you talking about?” you replied immediately, and surprise flashed through his face. You stepped between him and the counter.

He tipped his head. “You can see me?”

You didn’t respond, instead asking, “What do they see?”

He raised his arms from his sides in a sweeping motion. “Whatever they fear most.” A smile crossed his lips again, and he bowed slightly with his arms still extended. “But I am certain that you do not fear me most.”

It was because of your Quirk, of course. Your Quirk was called Null. Quirks were useless against you – at least, the majority of Emitters and a few others. You saw this man’s true form. For a moment, you wondered what you would have seen. Yet, your Quirk could not be deactivated, and it was a thought you discarded.

“What do you want from this shop?” you asked.

“Money, of course,” he said smoothly. “Whatever reason my Quirk isn’t affecting you – You seem like a smart kid. Get out of my way.”

You took a shaky breath. “No, thank you.”

Whatever polite air surrounded this man sharpened in an instant. “Hm,” he said, taking a step closer. “Last chance. Don’t play hero, kid.”

“I’m not a hero,” you said. “But I think you should leave.”

He pulled out a thin, sharp blade from his coat. “You know,” he said, taking another step closer, “I generally don’t like to hurt kids.”

A knife is buried in your left pant pocket. You could feel it against your leg. Yet between the amount of time it would take you to reach it, and the distance to this stranger’s blade – you couldn’t risk it. Your hands were shaking too much, anyway.

He took another step, and you did something stupid.

You tackled him.

His legs, to be specific. He was taller, and the knife – you aimed for his legs to bring him to the ground. It wasn’t your smartest move, in hindsight. He immediately sliced the knife along your back, and you felt a shriek rip from your throat, the pain unexpected. It burned along your spine.

In a wave of animalistic instinct you bit his thigh, hard, and he grunted. The reaction spurred you on, and you hit and kicked and struggled to keep him on the ground with you. You felt more hot blood trickle down your neck, but adrenaline and desperation kept you from feeling the majority of the pain.

It bought you time, and that’s what you needed. The bell by the door rang. When you glanced up, you saw a blinding red light and a static pain spread through your skull and 

Your vision went black.

When you woke up again, you jerked to an upright position before a hand stopped you. 

“Don’t move too much,” the man advised in a quiet voice. When you blinked the spots from your vision, you recognized him immediately and flinched back. Eraserhead. He glanced over your shoulder. “Have you called the ambulance?”

“Ah– no, don’t call them,” you said quickly. You felt a bandage wrapped around your back and shoulders. “I can’t– uh. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. You still need medical attention, kid.” You stiffened, remembering what the stranger had called you. “What did you even do?”

“Uh.” You grinned sheepishly. “I kinda charged at him.”

“You what?” came a second voice, which quickly stepped into view. He was about your age, maybe a little younger, with messy indigo hair and deep eyebags. He wore a scarf — capture weapon, you corrected yourself — similar to Eraserhead’s. A hero trainee, almost certainly. “Why?”

“I didn’t think it out very well.”

“Clearly,” Eraserhead added dryly. 

“What else was I meant to do? Let him take the money?”

“That would have been preferable,” the villain said in a soft lilt, smiling, and the trainee with indigo hair glared at him. He was tied up carefully, with cuffs on his wrists. He looked away and sighed.

“You should have kept him distracted until the heroes arrived,” Eraserhead said. You frowned.

“I tried that,” you said. “He was the one who brought a knife out.”

Eraserhead sighed. “The police will be here in five minutes, the paramedics in…” he looked up to the trainee.

“Ten,” he replied. He shrugged. “There’s traffic.”

“Right. I won’t make you repeat your story twice, so let’s wait until the police arrive.”

The goggles covered the direction his eyes were facing, so you couldn’t tell who he was addressing. You nodded anyway, slightly dizzy.

When the police arrived, they took the stranger into the car and a detective spoke with you. At some point you both had moved outside the store, though you were still lightheaded and wavered slightly with each step. 

“I’m Tsukauchi Naomasa,” he said. “Walk us through what happened.”

“I’m [Name],” you replied. “I was shopping, and this guy walked in. I didn’t notice anything until people started freaking out. Um, I just thought… I don’t know. Something was weird. I texted my friend to call the police or something… and I, uh, I stepped out in front of them. He mumbled something to himself, and I replied to it, and he was surprised that I could see him.”

“Do you know why you could see him?” the detective interrupted. His brow was furrowed.

“Oh, right,” you said. “My Quirk. It’s called Null. It prevents other Quirks like that one from working on me.” 

“Mm,” Tsukauchi said, face relaxing. “Continue.”

“He told me to move out of the way so he could take the money, I guess, and I, I didn’t.” You grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight. I was just thinking I need to hold him off until somebody shows up. And he pulled out a knife, and I tackled him.” Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t say anything. “And he cut me, and I just started, uh… it sounds so stupid now that I’m admitting it,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Tsukauchi reassured. “We all do stupid things in high risk situations.”

“I just did anything I could to keep him down,” you said. “Biting and kicking and whatever. And then the heroes showed up, and—” you hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at Eraserhead. You had a theory that his Quirk, trying to cancel yours, had created a feedback loop of sorts that led to the static and your passing out. But if that was true, wouldn’t he have felt the effects, too? “I properly realized I was still bleeding and then I passed out, I guess,” you finished lamely.

“Hmm,” the detective said, but was interrupted by a man hurrying over.

“I heard someone was injured?” he asked, and you raised your hand slightly. He stepped over to them and Tsukauchi walked away, murmuring something to Eraserhead. “This might feel a little uncomfortable,” the healer warned, placing a hand on your back. 

“Ah,” you said, realizing what he was going to do. “Your quirk… won’t work. Mine cancels it out.”

He frowned, slightly, and didn’t move his hand before he must have tried and failed to use his quirk. “Well… you’re already bandaged. Let me check.”

After a moment of adjusting the bandages and advising you to be careful, you push yourself to your feet. You glanced quickly over to Tsukauchi and Eraserhead, who seemed to be deep in conversation. “Have a good night.” 

You speed-walked away, until the trainee stepped in front of you. “You should wait,” he said, looking as tired as you felt. “Tsukauchi…”

You gestured at the darkening sky. “I have to be back before sundown. My mom will be worried.”

“I can drive you home,” Tsukauchi said, glancing over. “I need to talk with your parents.”

You swallowed a groan. Your mother would almost certainly – and probably rightfully – chew you out for walking directly into harm’s way like that. Unfortunately, taking the ride was probably the best idea. You agreed, and got into the car with the detective. You checked your phone, and the message you had sent just before stepping out from the shelves.

sunnydays > call cops [address] villain

lavendereyes > what??

lavendereyes > they’re on their way

lavendereyes > sun? you alr?

The texts had stopped after that. You typed another message quickly.

sunnydays > fine now. only got lightly stabbed

lavendereyes > you what???

sunnydays > im fiiiine i got patched me up whatever

lavendereyes > ok but other than that are yoi fine

sunnydays > yeah

sunnydays > in the cop car going home

lavendereyes > ok, message me when you get home

sunnydays > alright

You slid their phone back into your pocket and leaned against the window. Tsukauchi was quiet, only looking back at you in the mirror a few times.

“That was brave, you know,” he said suddenly, and you stiffened.

“Not really,” you said. “It was stupid to attack him like that.”

“‘Brave’ and ‘stupid’ aren’t mutually exclusive.”

You snorted. “Fair enough.”

The city rushed by. The sky darkened further. The car slowed and pulled into the driveway, and you ran a hand through your hair. 

Your mother opened the door and came hurrying down the steps, up to the car. Tsukauchi stepped out of the car and you followed soon after.

“What happened?” she asked. 

Tsukauchi explained quickly, and a small frown settled on your mother’s face. “Well, at least you’re alright,” she settled on, eventually. 

Tsukauchi bowed slightly to you and your mother, and you quickly bowed back. “You seem like a good kid,” he said to you. “Just try not to get stabbed again.” He smiled, before waving slightly and climbing in his car to leave.

You walked over and hugged your mother, sighing into her hold. “You are alright, right?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “Just… tired.”

“Let’s eat dinner, and then you can go to bed,” she said. You nodded, and you both went inside.

[lucaanis]

Summary: A journal entry hastily scrawled by Lleyth after arriving at the Lighthouse.

[part one] / part two

Fuck me. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I'm writing this now from someplace I never thought I'd be: The Fade. I've been to some odd places in my line of work— Maker knows Varric has taken me to places this past year alone that nobody back home would ever believe— but this? The realm of dreams, raw magic, demons, and the power behind just about every horrible thing you could ever think of? Yeah, this is not where I want to be right now.

How did we get here? How is it even possible to be here?

Physically. In the Fade! Sangre del Hacedor.

It appears to be an ancient Elven ruin of some sort, yet another dismal remnant of some mysterious probably-cursed shithole left behind by "my" people. It's not exactly homey— there's dust and cobwebs (Fade spiders?) and rubble and things like vines? Roots? Everywhere. Blocking off access to what I imagine are other rooms in these hallways. There are secrets in this place. It looks like it's seen war.

What did this place use to be? What happened to it? Again, how did we even get here? I'd ask Neve to explain it to me, but I know admittedly little about magic and mages beyond what is necessary to kill them, and my head hurts already without me trying to wrap my mind around the specifics of it.

But I can't lie and say that this place wasn't exactly what we needed when we needed it. Whatever happened at the ritual site, this place— the Lighthouse, if these ancient scrolls and notes laying around aren't ambitious works of fiction— seems untouched by any of it, and while I don't exactly romanticize the idea of setting up camp in a creepy shattered ruin in the Fade, it has the space needed to make proper fortifications. We can worry about supplies and comfort later. (If we live that long...)

I know I shouldn't look a gift refuge in the mouth, but I have to say: I don't like it. The air feels wrong here, heavy, charged— and if I think too hard about whether or not I'm actually breathing air, I get dizzy. The raw magic of this place makes my teeth itch and my fucking head is killing me, though Harding tells me the last part is likely because of my skull getting thrashed against stone during Solas's ritual. Pretty badly, or so I'm told.

Harding. Harding is injured, too. Just like Varric. Not as injured as Varric, but likely concussed or worse. I could do something for her if I still had my alchemy kit, but it's probably covered in a year's worth of dust back in my room at the Diamond. (That, or Viago sold it to keep the lights on in Villa de Riva while I was gone. Rompicazzo.) She needs to rest, but she's stubborn. She wants to get right back in the fight— I guess that makes two of us. It's my fault. This whole mess was my call. If I'd just told Harding to stay with Neve…

Better yet, if I'd convinced Varric to just shoot the bastard while we had the chance. His back was turned, we had a shot—

But I couldn't. I saw his eyes. He'd truly believed that Solas could be reasoned with, or at least he wanted himself to believe it. I wanted to believe him, but I knew this wouldn't go the way we wanted. It's never that easy anymore. I would know. I should know.

But I let him go anyway, didn't I? This is on me.

I guess I should say we're lucky to be alive. When I saw Solas— I guess I should say Fen'Harel's knife sink in, I thought… If I had just been a little faster

I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought. He's still here. We're all here, and that's what matters, for better or for worse…

Though I can't shake this feeling like I've forgotten something important, like some sort of itch I can't scratch. When I try to remember, to force myself to think about it, it hurts. It's like there's a hole somewhere in my head that I just can't reach. It could be a concussion— my ears are still ringing every now and again from the initial blast, and it's hard to concentrate, but there's no time to sit around and rest. I'll keep an eye on it and Harding in case it gets worse. Neve has enough on her plate without having to play nurse for three wounded idiots.

Still, it bothers me. If I did hit my head hard enough to forget something, how would I know? How would I remember that I forgot? What are you supposed to do when you forget that you've forgotten something? I suppose it doesn't matter now, and it doesn't help my headache.

For now, we have to press forward and assess the damage. Plan our next steps.

What a fucking mess. This whole time I thought Varric was shitting me when he said we were hunting an Ancient Elven God. Now, assuming Fen'Harel was telling the truth when he invaded my dream with blood magic, we're hunting two. Blighted ones. That's two blighted tyrannical gods that I, apparently, helped release. That's… a lot to take in.

Because that means… Fen'Harel? The Dread Wolf talking to me in my sleep? Real. And if one god of the Elven pantheon is real, that means the others are too, right? So… Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan? Blighted gods trying to end the world? Also real. Puta madre. Let this serve as a reminder to myself to never to let Varric introduce me to one of his "old friends" ever again. I've seen enough.

I'd say this is officially the worst contract I've ever been assigned, but that would be an understatement. Carajo, you hunt and try to kill one stupid god trying to end the world, and unleash two instead. I might officially be the worst fucking Crow in Antivan history. If I survive this shit, the Crows are going to kill me.

We're heading back to Arlathan soon to find out what we're dealing with. What we— what I unleashed on the world. With any luck, it's not as bad as I—

No. I think we're leagues past blind optimism. It's bad.

But we need to know how bad before we can come up with a plan. And if nothing else, maybe the scorched remnants of this journal will linger here for some other unlucky bastard to pick up where we left off.

(That reminds me, who left all of these notes and books here? And for what purpose? Investigate later, if still alive.)

— R.

[maenjiro]

cookiE and cream 𖦹 headcanons

ft. wakasa x afab!reader

synop + cw: wakasa and his oral fixation aka pussy drunk wakasa is the best wakasa. oral (reader receiving) and everything that may come with that

a/n: hmu if this is any good

old news but this man has THE oral fixation

so he dives in, he takes without asking. anywhere, anytime no matter what.

the gym, mostly the changing rooms otherwise he knows his friend would give him shit for it also he really is trying to be more mindful of other people but again, he has no shame when he's hungry

his house, your house, any place you can have some alone time

he makes you wet with all the shit he’s saying about eating you out

might not even be something extremely dirty but he’s so straight forward he can make you pretty flustered.

gets all frantic when he needs his mouth on you but you're wasting time talking

might pin you against the wall and just get on his knees

lift one of your legs on his shoulder to have more access, closes his eyes and the first moan he lets out is pure bliss

your legs shaking will never be enough for him to stop

or on the bed when he's on top of you, this bitch would lower his head down to kiss you and stop abruptly smirking “whoops, wrong lips”

next thing you know he has your legs on his shoulder and is worshipping your cunt

the rare times he's not in a frenzy to have his tongue make circular motion between your folds he will spread them with his fingers and smile at the sight

low breathy moan against your pussy

moves his tongue like he's starving, he is pussy drunk and he shows it

makes sure his tongue is keeping you all wet and hot

he's messy yet very precise, he knows where to lick and how much pressure will make you see stars

also will prod at your hole with his thumb and keep teasing you around your entrance with feathery touch that will make you clench around nothing (the bastard will smirk against you)

soo i bet he has some tooth rotting nicknames for you and i swear i know he would non ironically call you oreo... and you would tell him to stop calling you that

and he looks at you almost offended “not when i have your legs spread open for me and i’m about to lick your cr-” either you cover your face with the pillow or push his head against your core

endless cycle of him sucking on your clit and poking it with his tongue

overstimulates you and he doesn't even do that on purpose he just loses tracks of time (will make you cum at least three times i'm sorry but i don't make the rules, he does)

you can't even pull away cause his grip on your legs is tight, holding onto your thighs for dear life not to spiral

i wouldn't be surprised if he ended up falling asleep between your thighs

[rotting-inkblot]

Wasted Nights

Pairing(s): (Seemingly) One-sided Barry/Rafe Cameron

Summary: No matter how annoying he is, and how much he wants to hate him, Barry cannot stop thinking of the Cameron boy while alone in his bed at night.

Warnings: Referemced drug use and self-medication, smut, violent sexual fantasies (including blackmail, threats of violence, dacryphilia, non-con, blood kink, gun kink, knifeplay, extreme sadism, fearplay, virginity/innocence kink and corruption kink.)

Additional Tags: Masturbation, male solo, love/hate, (not actually) unrequited lust, insomnia, sex toys, Barry's fascination with Rafe Cameron's eyes, hand/finger kink, sexual fantasies (including facefucking, rough oral sex, handjobs, hair-pulling, begging), clean up, pubic hair, sleep, tiredness, sleep deprivation, mess, pre- or during season 1.

1.8k words / oneshot

That boy’s infuriating. And yet here Barry lays, alone in his bed, stamping out his second joint and still thinking about him instead of sleeping. Not like he could sleep, the weed usually aided a little but now it’s just worsening the thoughts keeping him awake in the first place. Makes him linger on ones he’d usually shove away like the person who put them there, on the ones that feature the Cameron boy front and centre. The boyish smile that makes him sick, glassy eyes that always looked ready to shed tears, those fucking lips that he always had to make a conscious effort not to stare at. Fuck. He wanted to see him cry. Well, wanted to be the cause of it, instead of whatever richboy bullshit he’s always whining about. Give him a real reason. It’s too late for this shit.

[vic-chase]

The Orange Rind

Your taste was bitter sweet like bitting an orange straight through the rind I recoiled once I took it all in why didn't you stop me? I feel so sick the citric still trapped in my mouth I should've known better should've done better now I'll clean up the mess the one you made cause you could've warned me before I ruined my senses

[chipsonthemenu]

i should GAAASP

okay so i'm working on an scu fic and if i said a driving plot point for it i'd spoil it but i think i may tie some genloss into it. like flashes of it, flashes of another timeline. just for mr charlie slimecicle :3

[nyxthedragon225]

rolan was always so well put together, so handsome and disciplined. He had good manners and better grades, a perfect picture of the kind of guy you'd want to take home to your parents. Rand loved it when he was deep in his job, poring over some notes or textbooks, his face scrunching up in concentration and his glasses sliding down his nose. Rand loved it even more when he could get Rolan to relax and stop being so stuck up, loved seeing him lounging around the house in sweatpants and one of Rand's graphic tees, loved it when Rolan woke up late and shuffled into the kitchen mumbling something incoherent about his dreams. Rolan was gorgeous no matter what he did and Rand loved every bit of it.

Kian was always so effortlessly gorgeous, a certain kind of otherworldly beauty that made Rand lose his breath. He was smooth and seductive, always ready with a witty remark to sweep Rand off his feet and leave him red and gasping for air. Rand loved it when he took a hit of a blunt and the smoke framed his face, leaning back and eyes closed, a look of pure bliss on his face. Rand loved it even more when he was towering over Rand, backed him against a wall and tilted his chin up for a kiss. He loved it when Kian got lost in his music until he seemed to forget he had an audience, eyes focused on the guitar as deft fingers danced along the strings. Kian was a wonder, something incredible to behold, something so alien in his beauty that Rand could hardly believe he was allowed to exist near him.

And Rand was just that: Rand. Timothy Rand, a 30 year old homosexual stoner who lived in his parent's attic and didn't have a job. He was nothing, he was ungly and worthless next to them.

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ TO BE LOVED. dazai, akutagawa, fyodor, yosano & reader (separate) !

synopsis. what is it like, to be loved by them? contents. could be read as platonic love or romantic love. (you can deeply love your friends, fight me. /j) bsd-typical warnings. religious themes in fyodors. non-linear? idk. gn!reader. 0.6k words. notes. i'm blaming @rainswept for this, yapping with you has cured my writer's block. also i'm sorry if this doesn't make a lot of sense or is terribly ooc, i'm very tired and have been thinking about poetry and love and this was the result.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ DAZAI — loves like it's going to be the death of him. It's a quiet, dull sort of love, a slow-acting poison that spread languidly through his body. From one limb to the next, little by little, it paralysed every part of him until the only sensation was a bitter, festering infection beneath the skin. Every touch, every smile... every part of it hurt, in ways he could never bring words too.

Yet he loves anyway, gritting his teeth through the pain and letting the sting settle under his skin. Poison wasn’t a stranger to him; it greeted him with the arms of a friend and the hands of a lover. He gets used to it after a while; he accustoms himself to the 'good mornings', and the touches that ghost his skin long after they've let go. Soon enough, the pain is as natural as breathing.

It’s soothing, in a mithridatic, vaguely masochistic kind of way. And sometimes when he loves, he feels as human as they are.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ AKUTAGAWA — loves like he's a drowning man, reaching desperately for a hand to save him. His shouts are swallowed up by merciless waves, his breath is stolen from his lungs. He is desperate to grasp the touch of another—whether to save himself from his desolation, or as a last comfort before he is pulled under, even he doesn’t know. He only knows that he craves it, craves it with every screaming nerve in his body.

Adrenaline is pumping through his veins in every moment he lives, but when he loves, it is quiet. For once, desperation and despair are silenced, leaving only the hollow echo of his thoughts to accompany the sound of their voice. He clings to love like it is a lifeline, the only thing that is pumping blood through his veins and sending air through his fractured lungs.

By himself he is an empty, shell of a man pulled down by the current. Together, he breaks the surface of the water and begins to feel whole.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ FYODOR — loves like it is holy. The feeling is sacred, held close and tight to his chest. He looks to them and sees an angel descended down to grasp his blood-stained hands in their clean ones, he listens to their words and hears the heavens themselves sing. No touch has ever felt so pure as theirs, no person has ever felt so unworthy of the cruel world they occupy.

His existence is a life wrought with turpitude, but even his sinful state is close to salvaged when they smile before him. A love like that must be a gift from God Himself, so he cherishes it as such.

-----

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ YOSANO — loves like it is the only thing breathing life into her lungs. Illness is an old friend that has overstayed their welcome ten times over, but it seems to vanish almost entirely in their presence. Gone is the phantom presence of an injury healed twelve years prior, vanished are the memories that linger under her skin. She yearns for the relief that they provide; loving them, and loving them, and loving them until she feels breathless with vitality.

The bruises heal with a touch, the scars disappear with a glance. She loves with the desperation of a woman chasing one more year to add to her lifespan, craving the solace that they so sweetly give her. No longer is she an Angel of Death; she is the blessed, endowed with the most precious offering one could give.

Life is a gift—as she drills into the heads of her patients—and what kind of a lady would she be to turn away such a generous one as that?

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[written-in-the-clouds]

welcome !

this blog is for platonic / familial / any non romantic relationships ! with the severe lack of them , i decided i should just make my own blog for them . . !

requests: open . . .

anons: none yet . . .

ask game open !

enjoy your stay !

rules - masterlist - wips - about the author - ao3

banner from cafekitsune on tumblr

[almostfoxglove]

let's write some ANGST!

hey kids. we're back, as promised! some of you may remember the angst writing challenge I hosted in the summer and, well... what can I say? I love to suffer. so we're back to celebrate the new year and bring in 2025 with some BIG FEELINGS!

❤️‍🩹 rules

1. 📜 your fic must include angst, and at least one image OR the quote from your moodboard. how much angst is totally up to you - happy endings are allowed, but feel free rip my heart out, too :,) 2. ✅ be sure to tag your post #almostfoxgloveangst2 when it's done!

note: photos in the moodboards are just for vibes, and aren't intended to be prescriptive / representative of any characters in your piece.💗 you are welcome to write in any AU or canon universe you like! as usual, 18+ mdi!

❤️‍🩹 participants & masterlist below the cut!

ALL SPOTS HAVE BEEN CLAIMED!

📰 dave york - if only by @guiltyasdave

⚔️ din djarin - The Mirage of a Goodbye by @sawymredfox

🕒 din djarin - @djarinmuse

🦌 din djarin - @slimybeth69

🎯 din djarin - long gone by @burntheedges

⛓️‍💥 din djarin - liminal by @saradika

👻 ezra - Ghosts in the Static by @morallyinept

🌼 frankie morales - Begin Again by @toomanystoriessolittletime

✉️ frankie morales - @amanitacowboy

🎻 javier peña - @quinnnfabrgay-writes

🌾 javier peña - @milla-frenchy

☎️ javier peña - Long Distance by @whocaresstillthelouvre

🚬 javier peña - WITHOUT A REWARD by @pedgito

🪖 javier peña - "That Won't Ever Be Me, Bebita" by @iknowisoundcrazy

🌳 joel miller - @aurorawritestoescape

🔒 joel miller - what remains of a man by @jolapeno

🕯️ joel miller - @gracieheartspedro

👑 joel miller - My Paramour, My Evermore by @schnarfer

🛑 joel miller - @evolnoomym

🐎 joel miller - @arcanefox207

🍷 lucien de leon - @gothcsz

🪙 marcus acacius - The Road to Rome by @myownwholewildworld

✒️ marcus acacius - I can't hear it now by @joelmillerisapunk

🚂 marcus pike - The Genuine Article by @secretelephanttattoo

🪦 max phillips - @jennaispunk

⛪ max phillips - @yopossum

🥀 oberyn martell - Of Death and Butterflies by @galway-girlatwork

[winterrrnight]

soft!rafe cameron x scholar!fem!reader 🖇️📚🖊️📓📑💌🗂️✒️

library and coffee dates. resting your head in his lap while reading. hugging him when the current assignment feels like pressure. surprised with huge flower bouquets on academic achievements. standing at your doorway with your favorite foods for your break. instagram stories of you studying. coffee stains on your notes. his jackets being a necessity in your outfits. cheering out loud for you when you get the diploma. taking you to the park for your study breaks. sharing earphones while listening to music. late night drives to help you clear your head. <3 (og post)

(I am hyperfixated over this trope so if anyone wants to write something inspired by this, please do!!! 🥹🥹 and defo tag me 🥰)

[funishment-time]

🎁 Day 13 of the DR Winter Gift Calendar has arrived with Celeste- and Hifumi-themed gifts!

(A masterlist of all gifts will be posted at the end of the event!)

🎰 CELESTIA - GIFT TAGS

okay, i love making gift tags. i would have done gift tags for literally Every Character if they didn't take me forever to design, even when working off a template. nonetheless, 3.5"x2" tags of the OG liar royalty, all for you!

💝 [download as zipped PNGs or a PDF] 💝

✒️ HIFUMI - DANGANRONPA FANFIC PROMPTS

next time you've got a writing block, keep this in your notebook or your Favorite PDFs Folder (you DO have one of those, don't you?!) and let Hifumi help you out. it measures exactly letter-sized (8.5x11") so it's perfect for binders and such. also, unrelated, Hifumi looks so cute in the various Danganronpa Mangas. round boy

💝 [download as zipped PNGs or a PDF] 💝

➡️ you may freely share, use, and edit these: just link back if you post them online!

[See other 2024 Winter Gift days at the tag #danganronpa❄️24!]

[riki-dazed]

welcome; ♡

masterlist · anon list

i want to highlight the fact that this blog is a safe space for everyone, be respectful, please keep any type of negativity and judgement off this acc

request guidelines

· i write smut with 18+ characters. please block if you're uncomfortable knowing that

· my main groups are in the tags. mostly writing about riki for now

· my prns are she/her, i feel most comfortable writing using those

· no member x member

what i won't write:

sa, abuse, underage, incest/stepcest, there will obviously be many other things. if i come across a request i do not want to write, i simply won't. don't worry about making me uncomfortable

-> pls read !!

✒️ to see short blurbs; #riki-dazed thoughts

📝 to see requests; #riki-dazed requests

💌 to see inbox replies; #riki-dazed chats

💕 to see my anons & their messages; #riki-dazed anons

please keep in mind that i may not get to writing everything that gets requested. i'm also a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to writing so it may take me a while, there will be times i post mutiple times a day, and sometimes nothing for a few days.. it all depends.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work without permission.

[euphternal]

꧁༒☬𝖂𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖗 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓☬༒꧂

(finally updated after thousands of years)

𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚘𝚛 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!

𝙾𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 ��𝙸𝙿𝚂, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚘𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜.

Main: @lunaeuphternal (ill still post writing stuff there)

So without further ado, let’s get on to what I write about:

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠:

(𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: ⚠️𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠)

𝙏𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙨/𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨:

☆ Political Fantasy

☆ Found Family

☆ Bit of Romance

☆ Mental Health/Illness

☆ Psychological Horror

☆ Class Division

☆ Science Fiction

☆ Gore/Violence

☆ Supernatural

☆ Espionage

☆ Cozy/Fluff (every once in a while)

Major Inspirations:

Arcane, Samurai Jack, Primal, Pride and Prejudice, The Amazing Digital Circus, Primal, Wallace and Gromit, Afro-Samurai, The Little Prince, The Hunger Games, Get Out, Looney Tunes, Tangled, Mary and Max, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Revolutionary Girl Utena

𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕔 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟:🎼

𝚃𝚘 𝙿𝚒𝚖𝚙 𝚊 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢 - 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝙻𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛

𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙱𝚕𝚟𝚍 - 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝙳𝚎𝚕 𝚁𝚎𝚢

𝚂𝙾𝚂 𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚡𝚎: 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙰 - 𝚂𝚉𝙰

𝙷𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗 - 𝙻𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊

𝙴𝚙𝚒𝚌: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 - 𝙹𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚁𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜

𝙲𝚝𝚛𝚕 (𝙳𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚡𝚎) - 𝚂𝚉𝙰

𝙰𝚗𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚋𝚑

Tag Games:

Picrew OC Tag Game

Tag Game (Food Edition)

Winter Themed Tag Game

Musical Themed Tag Game

(Plan to host more games the coming months)

WIP(S): ✒️

𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞(𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐜 𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭)

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨: 𝙄𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙥𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩

𝐖𝐚𝐫 & 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭.

(𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚍𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜)

Writer links:

Ao3

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Adriennelover29473

🄿🄴🅁🅂🄾🄽🄰🄻 🅂🄷🄸🅃/🄲🄻🄾🅂🄸🄽🄶:

𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜, 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜. 𝙸’𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚂𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙙)

@aquitheimmortalone, @aesthetic-writer18, @the-ellia-west, @illarian-rambling, @gioiaalbanoart, @mjparkerwriting, @goldfinchwrites

@seastarblue, @magic-crazy-as-this, @inky-anathemata, @moltenwrites, @sunflowerrosy, @furrywrit3r, @yourpenpaldee, @rumeysawrites,

@oliolioxenfreewrites, @differentnighttale, @kuebiko-writing, @worlds-tallest-fairy, @justaboymadeofhoneyandglass

@thecomfywriter, @sillycyan, @michellekarnold, @sarahswriting, @harmonic-melodii,

@the-golden-comet, @cringemoth, @theres-bees-in-my-head, @ambersky0319, @thepastelpop, @pastellbg,

@pastellbg, @justalunaticfangirl, @resmyx, @whosbex, @viridis-icithus, @corinneglass

𝓢𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓷𝓸𝔀,

𝕷𝖀𝕹𝕬