#But that might just be from sleep deprivation

[himluv]

Ok. Here's my first attempt at writing Lucanis and Spite. This isn't my favorite piece of DA fic I've written, but I had to get it out of system.

Also, I am writing Lucanis as demisexual. That is my accepted headcanon, and I am writing it from personal experience.

Enjoy, I guess? 😂

(below the cut because spoilers?)

Lucanis leaned into his palm where it pressed against the stone just above Rook’s head. He felt drawn to her, pulled across the floor until there was just a feather’s width between them. It was such an infrequent feeling – this wanting – that he almost hadn’t recognized it the first time. Now, the thrum of desire through his body was unmistakable.

But did she feel it too?

“This isn’t a good idea,” he said, offering her a convenient escape route.

She smiled. “Sometimes the bad ideas are best.”

He couldn’t help smiling at that. It seemed she always knew just what to say. Like that night at the cafe. He’d felt a slight thrill at the table, a rush at how easily the conversation volleyed between them. It wasn’t until much later that night, replaying her voice in his head, that he’d ached with realization. She’d been talking about much more than how she liked her coffee.

“You like walking a little too close to the edge.” Again, a warning. He would push, gently, until she saw reason. Because, surely, once she looked close enough, she would turn away.

“So do you.”

She reached for him, and for a moment Lucanis thought she might hook her finger through his lapel chain and tug him toward her. His stomach flipped, his smile widened, and he couldn’t avoid glancing at her lips. Mierda, he wanted to taste her.

But she did not touch him, her hand hovered there at his sternum and a desperate flash of want pulsed through him.

This was dangerous territory. She had no idea just how close to the edge they were. How easy it would be for her to push him off this cliff, and Lucanis would fall helplessly in love.

He looked right at her, his gaze heavy. “At least I know when I’m doing it.”

At the edge of a cliff…

What if he chose to jump?

He closed his eyes, tilted his head and leaned toward her, felt her do the same –

– Crisp air, sunlight on water, smells like trees and magic. Arlathan.

Lucanis’s eyes snapped open and he pulled back so quickly that Rook gave him a startled look.

“I… need to clear my head,” he said. As if he could do such a thing with Spite taking up so much space.

Space, he needed space. Between him and Spite, but also between him and Rook. He needed to breathe. Why did his chest feel so tight?

He stepped away from her, his palm now pressed to his waistcoat as he gave her the tiniest bow. “Excuse me.”

Then he turned and hurried out of the room, ignoring the weight of her gaze on his back. He brushed a hand through his hair, tugged at his waistcoat. Lucanis was not a tall man, but it took surprisingly few strides to cross the dining room and step out into the courtyard. He took a deep, shaky breath and quelled the urge to rub at the constant itch behind his eyes.

This wasn’t like him. He felt jittery, out of control. Perhaps all the coffee mixed with the sleep deprivation had finally gotten to him?

She makes you nervous, Spite sneered.

Lucanis said nothing. There was no point lying to Spite, it would only encourage the demon to keep talking. Instead he headed toward the library balconies – they were the closest thing the Lighthouse had to a rooftop. He needed height. Needed perspective.

Surprisingly, Spite was quiet until Lucanis stood staring out at the blank expanse of the Fade and his heart rate had settled some in his chest.

Finally, the demon asked, why?

Lucanis sighed. “Why what?”

Spite growled, irritated at having to explain himself. Rook. Makes. You. Nervous. WHY?

Lucanis winced as the word rebounded inside his skull. “You don’t have to shout.”

Spite made an unconvinced noise.

“And besides,” Lucanis said. “You know why.”

Make it make sense. We. Like. Rook.

Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose. “A little too much.”

Ahhhhh. Spite sniffed, as if savoring something delicious in the air. Scared.

Another truth he’d have to let lie between himself and the demon.

Let her in and get cut deep. See inside then turn away. Won’t want you. Oooh, or worse, she does want and then she di–

“Enough!” The word echoed out into the Fade, silencing the demon. “Enough,” Lucanis whispered. He didn’t need Spite to help him overthink all the ways kissing Rook could go wrong.

Want more than that.

The most surprising truth of them all. Lucanis could count the number of people he’d felt genuine attraction for on one hand. The only one he’d ever tried to pursue had misread him so completely he’d just given up.

As much as he longed for romance, he just wasn’t good at it. Love was something meant for characters in novels, or people like Teia and Viago. Not him.

Not love. What?

Before the Ossuary, Lucanis would have had an answer to a question like that. The Crows. House Dellamorte. Mediating peace between Illario’s ambitions and Caterina’s wishes. He liked being a Crow. He was good at it, and had never wanted more, a fact that had vexed Illario and pleased their grandmother.

And it was all gone.

Caterina was dead. In his current state, Lucanis was not fit to take her place as she’d desired. Illario would become First Talon, like he’d always wanted. If Lucanis somehow survived this contract, perhaps House Dellamorte would allow him back. Perhaps the future he and Illario had fantasized as boys might actually come to pass. Perhaps he and Rook…

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps! Bah!

Lucanis sighed and shook his head. Then he and the demon walked back to the dining hall in silence. And in that silence was another, terrifying truth.

For the first time in his life, Lucanis Dellamorte didn't know what his future held.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part iv. )

ଓ.° ・ wriothesley ･ neuvillette. genshin impact. repost. ・ ・ ・ pt i. pt ii. pt iii.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ wriothesley

wriothesley is far too familiar with getting injured on the job. it's nothing new, not really-- what's work if he doesn't get a little roughened up, anyway? it's certainly not a big deal ( to him, at least ).

he'll admit that some days are worse than others, but he's got too much to do, too much to protect. he can't afford to let anyone take him down. so all in all? he'll be fine. end of story.

you, on the other hand? he's not really sure. he's warned you from time to time that he's bound to run into trouble here and there; the fortress is not a place of innocence, after all, and you are both all too aware of that.

still, that doesn't stop you from mentally combusting every time he walks through the door, cuts and bruises all across his body. unfortunately, tonight is no different, even if his injury ( if anyone can even consider it to be one ) is a small cut on his cheek.

"jail. jail for a thousand years."

it's three in the morning, and yeah, he's a little sleep deprived, so he's not really sure if he heard you correctly. he blinks a few times, brows knit ever so slightly as he tries to register your words.

huh.

he's far more used to a lecture, but he'll take this instead.

"a thousand years?" he grins, though the amusement fades slightly as you use a washcloth to wipe the blood away. "that's a little cruel. seriously, do you think you could survive that long without seeing me?"

"guess we'll see."

he lets out a chuckle, though he sees through your annoyance. it may be a simple cut to him, but to you, it runs deeper and he knows that. he chooses to keep his silence instead of continuing the banter, only watching you carefully as you study him in search of other injuries you may have missed.

"i miss you when i'm gone for a thousand minutes." he leans in, closes that small distance between you two. "don't send me away." he murmurs. "i won't survive."

you don't say anything for a long while, a small sigh escaping through parted lips. it's his unique way of asking for forgiveness; of course you'll grant it. but you're just as stubborn as he is, so you don't quite give him the satisfaction or peace of mind that he expects.

you kiss him for a moment too short, then speak.

"how many hours is a thousand minutes?"

❀ ﾟ. ༄ neuvillette

neuvillette is not accustomed to the woes of human emotion. it is a fickle thing, he muses, and the nature of one's heart is a complexity he wishes to understand with ease. he tries, but there are so many variables and constants that even the ludex of fontaine cannot grasp it.

he is, admittedly, always a little doubtful of himself when it comes to such interactions. he is careful in his approach-- certainly not wary, but careful in the means of not causing offense. he is learning with time, after all, and though he has learned much through experience and through you, there is much he still remains naive to.

but this-- this, he understands : the silence that weighs heavy in the air, the lack of words so often spoken when you are together, the way your eyes won't meet his. your gaze is focused elsewhere as you throw all concentration into putting away the antiseptic and spare bandages, carefully organizing the supply kit in the most optimal manner in case of emergency. he is not sure how long you spend rearranging it, but surely it is a means of distraction to distance yourself from your feelings.

"thank you." neuvillette speaks up after a long while, notices how you pause at his gratitude. your body tenses up for the slightest moment, but you are quick to force yourself to relax.

"you're welcome."

he is unsure of how to proceed at this point. it is not often that he gets injured; such occasion is truly rare, but it is not something always in his control. he understands you are worried. he understands that you are afraid, that you might be angry. he wishes to speak, but when he hears that little sniffle, he freezes.

"please, look at me."

you listen. when he looks at you, there is something strange that stirs in his heart-- something so softly devastating at the sight of your sorrow. he hesitates, wonders if he will do the right thing to comfort you.

his hand cups your cheek, thumb wiping away the tear that trails down your face. there is the gentle curve of the lips-- a subtle reassurance, quiet in its nature, but deeply resonant.

"do not waste your tears on me." he tells you, gentle. "i'm alright. so long as the tides continue to turn, i will be here."

he presses a kiss to your forehead, smile growing ever so faintly as your tears continue to fall. it is something that cannot be helped; he knows this more than anyone, this weeping dragon. he pulls you into his arms, and until the tears are no longer shed, he will not let you go.

[ramblinscramblin]

Hi :)

I saw your ask box was open.

Can I suggest the merc falling asleep on their crushes shoulder during movie night? And when they wake up, they are alone with their crush who strikes their hair or cheek or something like that?

→Falling asleep on their crushes shoulder!

Genre: fluff, GN reader

Characters: Sniper, Engineer, Solider

This asker specified in a separate ask that it would be okay if I only did these three, unfortunately I think for now I’ll stick to just these three because I actually ended up getting a bunch of asks and didn’t want to overwhelm myself too quickly. Very grateful for all the submissions btw! Anyhow enjoy!

Sniper

He would have to be seriously sleep deprived to let this happen.

Sniper his hyper aware of his surroundings at all times, him “accidentally” brushing against something or someone is rarely ever just that.

He’d be hyper aware whenever sitting next to you, always ensuring there was enough space as to not accidentally touch. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or seem unprofessional, he already felt bad enough for having feelings for you.

To avoid leaning on you he just hung his head forward, falling asleep in the most uncomfortable position you have ever seen. But long nights of tossing and turning in his van had finally caught up and he was out like a light.

(Maybe it happens on accident, or maybe by your intervention he ends up leaning his head against your side. Oh no, what a terrible fate!)

He looks so calm and peaceful, so even long after the movie ended you decide to just keep quiet and let him sleep.

Eventually however he begins to stir, and wake with a soft sigh.

Freezes the second he realizes he’s against your side and under your arm. Like total deer in headlights, goes rigid.

He looks up at you to start spouting apologies and get off you, but instead with your free hand you just tenderly move a strand of hair out of his face with a smile.

His heart is beating out of his chest in an instant, and he quickly looks away to hide his burning face. Will not say anything from that point forward, and you choose to do the same, keeping the quiet ambience intact.

He might turn tail and run off or he might just stay, it honestly depends on the nature of your relationship up until this point. How close he views the two of you already.

If he lets a good thing be and just stays, he won’t talk about it or acknowledge it ever again. And if any of the mercs bring it up (which let’s face it, they will) he will deny it to the ends of the earth.

Thinks about it constantly, like constantly. He won’t be able to face you with a straight face for the next few days.

Engineer

Engie definitely ended up next to you on purpose, his passes at romance are typically pretty low-key, just sitting next to you is enough!

During movie nights he almost always pretends it’s just the two of you, making jokes about the movie while being shushed by the other mercs.

Tonight though it was a calming feel good movie, he couldn’t really think of anything to make you laugh so he ended up just sort of dozing off.

Him resting his head against your shoulder though is a happy accident, he didn’t mean it, but neither of you are mad about it.

I imagine that Engie is a super deep sleeper, once he’s out he’s out. So realistically you know you could probably sneak out from under him without waking him, but you’re not about to do that.

The first thing he goes to do when he wakes up is apologize for drooling.

But before he gets the chance you tenderly take your thumb as graze it over his cheek, smiling softly.

He freezes at first, heart caught in his throat.

But he gets his footing quickly, and starts “sorry for drooling on you darlin’” he said trying to break the ice a little bit.

“It’s okay,” you say taking a deep breath turning your attention back to your book “I don’t mind.”

He stays, getting nice and cozy beside you. It will likely become pretty standard practice between the two of you, he’ll shoo away any of the other mercs who might make fun.

This is the catalyst for him confessing to you for sure.

Solider

Solider is attentive at all times, if he falls asleep on your shoulder it is 100% on purpose.

Restless during movie nights, constantly (and loudly) interrupting the movie to ask questions or point out impossibilities. Doesn’t get suspension of disbelief.

Does enjoy cozying up to you though, the other mercs caught wind that he is calmer and quieter if sat next to you, so it became pretty ritual.

“This movie doesn’t make any sense! I’m going to sleep!” He loudly proclaimed to the group, earning a few annoyed groans and grunts from the other mercs. Promptly resting his head on your shoulder, praying you don’t shoo him away, or become uncomfortable.

Kind of dips in and out of sleep, kind of has trouble getting completely comfortable, and eventually wakes back up to find the two of you alone. Definitely sort of sheepish once it’s just the two of you, may pretend to be asleep.

Instead of insisting he get up you just sort of scratch gently at his scalp, comforting him as you guys enjoy a domestic moment together alone.

Might confess his feelings on the spot, might not really depends on his mood.

Doesn’t get up for a long time, an action that’s probably wholly your idea cause your arm is falling asleep.

Won’t be shy about it, but likely won’t bring it up again afterwards, definitely doesn’t enjoy any of the jokes anyone might make.

Is not opposed in the slightest to doing that again, pretends to be chill about it tho.

Eek! My first ask, I’m so grateful this was fun to write! My favoritism for Sniper really shows ^^’ whoopsssss

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Hello,have you had any of classic sans centric? I want to find others book like "Sans Tumbles Through the Multiverse Headfirst" but any classic centric is okay! Preferably no romance and no reader

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Dorks in love by Emo_tastical (Not Rated, Incomplete)

9+1 Thing aka, 10 times Classic comforts someone and 1 time everyone comforts him (Nightmare, Dream, Ink, Error, Swap, Killer, Dust, Cross, Horror & Classic)

The Multiverse Solution Center by Scorpion_Factory (Not Rated, Incomplete)

When Classic Sans gets a call from Ink, the last thing he expects is to be teleported to a new multiverse. He sees people he knows well, and some he's never seen before. He wonders why no one seems to know about this place even though it helps everyone This is a completed and work from Wattpad and will be updated to Ao3 every other Wednesday

Papyrus Amazing Spaghetti by orphan_account (Not Rated, Complete)

Sans, who goes as Classic, has had to invite over some friends. His brother did after all find out about them.

it’s raining somewhere else. (hey, here’s an umbrella. i don’t need it right now.) by Cranes_at_Eventide (Mature, Incomplete)

Undertale was the first. Sans Serif may not be a saint with a heart of gold, but there’s an extra room in his shiny new house, and there’s nothing stopping him from lending a well-used umbrella to someone else in need. Especially since it wasn’t raining here anymore. The surface was good for him. Hopefully, it’ll be good for others too. OR Rule number one: Touch Undertale and everyone will be after your sorry, miserable, disgusting ass. Reinfored by a lot of people, and by that I mean everyone. Do your dirty politics wherever, no one will stop you. Involve Undertale, and your ass is done.

in the garden by rhyssands (General Audiences, Complete)

Dropped unceremoniously and without warning into Farmtale, Classic Sans is just trying to keep his mind busy so he doesn't panic. Sticks understands. -- OCT 12: Cornfields

Thanks for the recommendation! The fic being recommended is…

Sans Tumbles Through the Multiverse Headfirst by PapilioVolens (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Sans has finally managed to fix the reset issue. It only required the deletion of a vital character. The barrier is broken, and time finally begins to move again. Recovery is slow, but Sans finds solace in his dreams. By the time he realizes his dreams of other universes are real, he has already grown attached to their residents. And then he's attacked at home and is thrust into the multiverse proper. He finds things very different from how he expected. His old friends don't recognize him, and some of them appear suspiciously older. It doesn't take long before Sans starts to suspect that he may have a larger role in the multiverse than he predicted. I wanted more Classic adventures through the multiverse, so here's my contribution. And cause I'm me, I can't help but try to make a saga out of it. Features Classic being Classic, strange multiversal mechanics, and a sleep-deprived author who 100% knows what they are doing

[ldpdluvr]

one night, freshly turned louis feeds from lestat and he drinks so much that lestat carefully cradles his head in both of his big palms and gently pulls him away from his neck "mon cher, i have no more to give", he doesn't want to stop him but he's feeling faint and hungry again "I will go feed and come back home to you, saint louis"

in response louis looks up at him with big round eyes that hold so much hurt in them, lestat said he would take care of him, so why is he stopping him from feeding from him? he promised that he would give him the world so why can't he give him this? and now he wants to leave louis alone to go hunt..?

lestat obviously isn't privy to louis' thoughts anymore but he can see the glassiness that covers his eyes, he can see the sad frown on his face, he notices the way louis is looking at him but not really seeing him and decides that he won't can't leave him alone in this state

so he gathers louis further into his arms, pulls him onto his lap and holds him throughout the rest of the night, occasionally rubbing a hand down his back as if he's comforting a frightened puppy, and peppers kisses on his forehead, nose and cheeks because louis' makes a cute lil sound every single time that he does

When louis eventually comes back to himself he's a bit embarrassed by his actions and tries to pull away but lestat doesn't let him ofc, he holds him tighter and tells louis how sweet he was for him "louis you never told me just how much you liked my blood" he says, his smile evident in his voice

by the time sunrise comes, they have made their way to the coffin and louis is snuggled up to lestat with his face once again in his neck (this is louis comfort place), lestat has his arms wrapped tightly around him and just like that, completely surrounded by each other they fall into a deep sleep.

[moongothic]

WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

So normally we only get fullblown, extended and dedicated flashbacks for heroic characters in One Piece, the characters who we're meant to root for. The literal only TRUE exception we've had to this rule was Big Mom's flashback. Even fucking Doflamingo's flashback was tied to Law and Rosinante's

So the fact that we haven't gotten a single fucking GLIMPSE at Crocodile's backstory is?!?

Like sure, we haven't gotten like a Moria flashback, but you know, he literally told us all we needed to know himself, AND we got to see glimpses of him in the Wano flashbacks. Arlong didn't get a flashback of his own, but he did get to cameo in Fisher Tiger's flashback. And Rob Fucking Lucci got a flashback that was 6 whooping panels long

BUT CROCODILE?? Not only do we know almost Fuck All about his story, but also have never gotten as much as a glimpse at it? But his backstory has been HINTED and TEASED at multiple times??

GUYS. FELLAS

Like. I am SURE the "Full Backstories for Heroes Only" rule is going to get broken again, but with Imu and Blackbeard already there just BEGGING to have their beans spilled, can we even be sure Sir Fucking Crocodile is somehow going to become A Villain So Dangerous To The Narrative that he ALSO should also recieve a Full Fucking Backstory?? For his Nefarious Schemes?? AT THIS POINT??

Y'all

I think it's more likely Oda's been saving up Croc's backstory because it might just completely recontextualize his entire character

[summertimemusician]

Linktober 2024, Day 1, Mirror (Self)

Alright here we go again.

Technically a sneak peak of a bigger thing to come in the future that I'm repurposing, and the result of my final playthrough and readthrough before EoW dropped being Four Swords Adventures and that made me sad about Shadow Link again.

Note that this is for the Four Swords Adventures iteration of Shadow Link that might evolve into an LU Shadow, not Dark Link in either LOZ or LU, I have other plans for him.

This one shot was brought to you by Scars by The Crane Wives, Ribs by The Crane Wives, Ruin by The Amazing Devil and Two Minutes by The Amazing Devil because the author's playlist decided to be incredibly cheeky when they blacked out to write this like an ancient seers being cursed with visions and then called mad and hearing they've been put up for execution.

As always the nature of the relationship can be romantic or platonic, mostly due to the author's time constraints and further plans.

Anyway enjoy the reading!

It was cold.

The sort of cold after a wildfire, when everything's turned back to ash, the sort that left burned your vision white after the flames licked through your veins and left an ache in your bones. He shuddered, coughed black onto the stone floor, shaking with a muffled whimper.

It never got any easier, being dragged from the Dark World and into the Realm of Light, the goddesses' world itself revolting against an intruder, wanting the wound torn asunder into their oh so precious realm cauterized. To purge the intrusion and smite it where it stands.

Too bad for them (and for him), his master didn't particularly care about what the world wanted. Didn't particularly care that he hadn't grow accustomed to the pain or the cold, he had to stand up. There was work to be done.

(Shadow gritted his teeth, willed himself not to think about the prophecy of a golden haired princess- because whether he liked it or not, it was prophecy. As those with divinity running through their veins are wont to spill from their throats so carelessly- of violet eyes and a smile a third moonlight and hands holding a hammer.

It always hurt more, after one of the heroes liberated one of the maidens, or the jewels, the pain lingering for days afterwards and carving a home in his metaphorical bones. But just this once he'd take the cold bite of the Four Swords over the pain in the hole in his chest that Vio's betrayal had left, something that felt so much worse than every other time before.

Just this once he wished that maybe, just maybe, the hurt would be too much to bear, that he wouldn't wake up again-

Why? Why does it hurt so much but he's still here? He already knew the Light was uncompromising and unforgiving, but he thought them at least above curses.)

His ears twitched as soft, almost silent footsteps came up to his side. Someone crouching by his fallen form, setting a cautious hand over his own that Shadow couldn't help but draw away from with a hiss, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the world again, to your face, carefully blank as you guided him to lean against your side, a silver choker with a crimson gem winked mockingly at him, the shade closing his eyes and going boneless against your side.

Shadow was so, so tired.

He heard you quietly sigh, plucking his cap from his head and running your fingers through dark amethyst, smoke and mist made hair. "I told you so."

"Shut up." He grumbled, nuzzling further into the crook of your neck. One clawed hand curling against your free wrist, digging into the skin. Absentmindedly noting there were new scratches just above the metal.

It was routine by now, the warmth of your existence against his own a welcome balm, not quite of the Realm of Light where it's unpleasant, not too close to the Dark World where he felt like melting back into the embrace of the darkness, only to howl in agony at being dragged out.

Memories not quite his own bled into his mind all the time. How you'd shape ice into flowers for the princess in winter with nary a though, of blinking and from one second to the next you'd have whatever sword he had hostage if you though it was time for a break with a smile brighter than the sun.

His master had changed that though. It took months for you to stop trying to claw the collar out and to stop trying to fight Vaati.

(Funny how holding a mage's dragon as a bargaining chip is just as effective as kidnapping a ruler.)

Your gaze flicked to the polished obsidian of the Dark Mirror, to the gold, ornate frame. "The offer is still open, you know. Let me take the suffering from you."

"No." He scowled, leaning back to glare into your eyes, a hint of fangs poking out from a maw struggling to keep the shape of a human jaw, "You helped him. Helped them." Shadow spat, there is that hurt again.

You shrugged, a movement that's just slightly awkward as you flinch, "That I did." You confirmed simply, it almost made Shadow see red as he leaned away, knocking your hand from his head in the process, but if there's anything him and the heroes shared, was a lack of a desire to hurt you. It was a little grating to be honest, "Vio even offered to take me with him, to be honest."

"Then why didn't you leave?" He demanded.

Why did you stick around?

Your eyes shuttered, a hint of conflict in your pursed lips. Before you found your words, they come out softly, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you why. You'll just have to find out yourself."

You tug your wrist from his grasp, and Shadow lets you go.

(Stubbornly pushing down on memories and emotions that arearen'tarenotanymore quite his.)

You stand and turn away, pushing the curtains away from your sight, you turn your tired eyes to Shadow with an emotion he can't put a name to. "Just keep it in mind that there's more than one way to end this. Nothing is truly inevitable."

Shadow watches you go. 'There's nothing that can be done. He tells himself, hand hesitating above the Dark Mirror, briefly, it curls into a fist. The hero's original self stares back at him.

'… Does he really believe that?'

He shakes his head, and focuses on willing the Dark Mirror to show him his counterpart.

His chest still hurts.

[alquido]

man i really like the characterization that chayanne's developed over time

where he starts as the reckless fighter charging in. it's initially for the thrill, as in the first adventure where he, ramon, and dapper drag the adults along to a dangerous adventure. later, he resolves to use that power for kindness — to protect his loved ones. he develops a more peaceful hobby — cooking — to bring joy to himself and the people around him

then as traumatic event after traumatic event happens to chayanne and tallulah, they get locked away from the outside world by his (understandably) paranoid father. it doesn't help that he lost his first life very early

as chayanne grows up he becomes more subdued, to the point of clinginess. he barely wakes up when his father isn't around. the adventures and dungeons he thought he'd miss made him feel homesick instead. he's not envious of the lives of the other eggs as they go on perilous story-packed missions. he's afraid to die

this feels like it's in contrast with statements from dapper and tallulah (his own niece/sister!), who have both said that they're not afraid of death but rather how their parents would react to them

[fireyartccoon]

Prismatic Parallel shenanigans

this is probably going to become its own little thing

this was for no particular reason, just felt like posting

[moonstruckhaze]

boyfriend shirt...

update: if you like this art, please go check out this fic that @chessala wrote for it ╥⁠﹏⁠╥

update cont: this is the first time someone's ever written something for art that I've made, and I'm still so happy and touched beyond words that she wrote this. she was even kind enough to share the initial draft with me and asked for feedback and even worked in little suggestions i had for expanding on different parts of the writing, which was so fun and collaborative and I haven't gotten to do something like that in ages. I'm so overwhelmed (in a good way) and it feels like getting to beam the full mental vision of the scenario i had in my brain while working on this piece into the mind of anyone who reads it; ;

i know these close up crops are a bit silly but well. i did my best lol... the full version is up on my alt twitter linked in my pinned post ♡

please also observe the little 🐰 logo.... it is silly & crucial....

[knickynoo]

Marty + having no clue what is going on

[pigglepiephi]

Um Yod, Atom and Mudmee are literally the opposite of everything you’re saying here!

They aren’t cowards

They are actually really brave to try things though they are scared 👊

They don’t make excuses

Voicing their worries isn’t making an excuse 👌

They don’t give up

Even when they find things hard or scary, they keep trying. They are actually both really determined to complete the camp and support each other via the Eraser Alliance 🫶

I just don’t get what the message is supposed to be here, or why they made this change 🤔

Being afraid of stuff is ok, it doesn’t make you a coward 😊

[his-writing-blog]

Crazy for you, oh boy | Shane x Harvey

Quick tags not in tags: suicidal thoughts mentioned, getting together, mostly fluff, bit of dark humor, they were friends before that, ooc sewers

Shane stood by the Saloon's bar in his usual spot. Also as usual, he was holding a pint of beer in his arm. And in his usual manner, Shane took a sip of his drink. Usually, his mind would be plauged by the visions (getting to work at jojamarkt next day).

Yoba, how he hated that place. He wouldn't work there anymore if he had any say in it. Sadly, he needed that money. Plus, he can't just leave poor Sam alone within the land of Tartarus under the lead of Krotos (Morris).

What was unusuall tonight, was the lack of thoughts regarding his little hell. Tonight his mind was stuck in the purgatory of longing after a feeling. A feeling that he wished for harder with each gramm of the alcohol in his blood.

Shane wasn't prone to those soul minglings before being brought back from the dead at The Clinic. The sight of his momentary guardian asleep on the fucking plastic stool, leaned agains the wall, legs curled to his chest and prepped against Shane's bed frame, made the ex-alcocholic stirr something deep inside of his chest and reset in his brain. He didn't think he could go back to looking at the man the same way he did before. In seconds, Harvey got promoted from being this mystical doctor seen by Shane once when he was running late to his job, to a real person that Shane wanted to get closer to.

Shane wouldn't have known what to call his current feeling if it wasn't for the new farmer, Laura. For someone so disorganised as him, Laura could muster up some good advice when coherent enough.

"The desire to be desired. And the desire to desire that thing the same way." Laura told Shane. He stopped in his track after hearing that. And then he burst out laughing. "What? If I didn't desire to pass down my legacy and Guiliermo didn't desire to be owned by me specifically, we wouldn't have each other!" She picked up her cat up to Shane's face. The orange cat looked at him right in the eye, as if challenging him. To what, Shane had no idea. But the devil's youngling must have sensed his lack of defense and meowed loudly in victory. Shane just turned around and went back to Marnie after loosing the one sided battle. He heard the farmer's laughter goes quiet as he walked.

Closing his eyes, Shane could almost see Harvey's face staring at him fondly. His mind tried to imagine his expression change to more passionate one. Shane tried not to let his mind take control. The more thoughts of this calliber, the most likely he was to send his addictions to the bottom of the cliffs alongside with him.

He looked down at his glass, half full with a beer. It was supposed to be his first and only one tonight. But with how things were going, Shane was tempted to throw the glass across the whole local and preach the words of his soul. How he felt because of the booze. How the will feel because of the booze. How it could ruin their life as hard as it ruined his. How one drink led to another to another to another to another to another to another to anot-

Warm chocolate eyes blinked at him right before his face. Shane relaxed his grip on the glass. He pushed it towards Gus, dropped some coins on the counter and left. He ignored the looks given by the townfolks and let himself fall into the fresh breeze outside. He stood in front of the darkness that loomed over the town at the edge of the forest. Without any more thought, he let himself be swallowed by it. It wasn't long before his eyes got used to the lack of the warm radiation of laps lit up around the town. The sky was truely one of the main reasons why Shane didn't get with his plans. Constelations of unwandered paths streched right above his small and meaningless life. Glittering and saying that maybe it was worth being there even if just to marvel at their beauty for a fleeting moment.

Shane wandered around the forest, his gaze lost in the stars, mind still by the fond eyes it couldn't bare to leave behind. He didn't know how long he was out there untill he saw the edge of the cliffs. Instead of heading acrossthe grass, Shane followed the overgrown path. It led to a narrow stairs that led to the large pipe that finished (or started?) the maze of sewer canals spread under the town. Drunk Shane liked to joked that it was an underground mirror reflecting the spiralls and labirynths made by stars. As if an artist scribbled down the unseen paths between stars and the pages landed on the desk of a rough engineer who tried and failed to recreate their grace.

As Shane marveled upon the genius of the cosmic blueprint, a quiet song was to be heard. He looked around, trying to find its source. After seeing nobody at the forest's clearing and no soul on the beach below, Shane was sure that it was coming from inside the pipe. His body tensed up, ready to initiate a fight or flight revalation at whatever might come from the sewer. The thing is, Shane would be nothing wothout his brain. And his brain, soothed by the strange melody, didn't want to response accordingly. So he sat at the top of the stairs, entranced by how sweet the sounds were. He was almost lulled to sleep by it when he started to sway to the rythm lightly. He got startled when he heart someone sing along the tune. What shocked him more was the fact that the voice was coming from his mouth. The words to the song came to him with a blink of an eye. Shane let himself be taken by the melody's current. And with a small smile on his lips, he sang.

"Harvey, nobody knows what I see."

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

Big emotions tonight 😅😅🫠🫠🫠

[m3llowm1sh]

mish’s relationships with the rd cast

[semiotomatics]

slept the better part of the last 24 hours ✌️something may be wrong