#Combined them so I can have more time for the last prompt :D

[dont-hug-me-its-yuri]

Day 29 and 30 for dhmis oddtober: Happy and Creativity!!

(@persy-r-bozo)

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You go home for Thanksgiving and who else joins your family but none other than their wonderful neighbours Agatha and Rio

-OR-

You struggle to make it through the meal and so does Agatha, but she "accidentally" spills her drink which means you fuck in the bathroom :)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, fingering, oral, mention of humiliation kink

Words: 3.5k

A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND KUDOS!!! to celebrate here is a bonus seasonal chapter :D Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate, and to those who don't: enjoy the chapter anyway ;)

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Master List

A Thanksgiving To Remember

As the morning light filters through the blinds, the hotel room is dim and quiet. You wake up slowly, feeling warm and content, your body still tingling from last night. You shift slightly, realising that Rio is already awake. She’s sprawled comfortably on her side, her head resting on the pillow, her hand absently stroking your arm. Her eyes flicker open as she senses you waking, and she smiles at you lazily.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Rio hums, stretching and running a hand through her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good thanks, how about you?" You smile, feeling the pull of her easy, bright energy. Was she always so upbeat in the mornings?

“I’m great. But she,” Rio gestures toward Agatha with a playful smirk, “isn’t a morning person.”

Behind you, Agatha just grumbles in response, muffling her face into the pillow and pulling you closer into her. Rio leans over, a mischievous grin on her face as she brushes Agatha’s hair from her face. “C’mon, darling, I’ll make you coffee,” she offers sweetly, but you can hear the hint of a challenge in her tone. 

Agatha groans again but finally starts to sit up, stretching with an audible crack in her spine. “Fine, fine,” Agatha mutters. “But it better be good, or I’ll go back to sleep.” 

Rio laughs and gets up to make coffee, leaving Agatha to rub her eyes before looking at you. You share a quiet moment, the lingering energy from the night before making the air between you feel heavy with unspoken thoughts.

As Rio busies herself in the kitchenette in the corner of the room, Agatha grabs her phone and starts swiping through it. Not wanting to bother her, you reach for your phone too. You’re happily scrolling when a notification pops up

MILF 1 has added you to the group chat.

MILF 1 named the group chat Check-In Group

MILF 1: There. You can’t ignore us now, sweetheart.

You’re smiling at your phone when you feel Rio standing next to you, coffee in hand

“What are you smiling at? Not another potential date, I hope." She meant it as a tease, but you can hear the hint of jealousy in her voice.

“No,” you chuckle. “In fact, it’s just the opposite; Agatha is making sure that never happens again.” You tilt your phone to show Rio the notifications.

She looks down at your phone, her eyes narrowing slightly at the screen. “Why do you have Agatha saved as MILF 1?” she asks, raising her voice loud enough so Agatha hears.

You laugh nervously and quickly glance at Agatha, who’s sitting up now and lazily sipping her coffee, her attention on the two of you. She raises an eyebrow at you, her eyes glinting with something more than just curiosity.

“Well?” Rio prompts, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You squirm under their combined gazes, feeling both flustered and slightly turned on. “It’s just the truth,” you admit sheepishly, your voice dropping as you fidget with the comforter. “She is a mom, and, well, I do want to f—” You stop yourself just in time, your cheeks heating as you look anywhere but at them.

Rio raises an eyebrow, a wicked grin curling on her lips. “Oh? And what am I saved as?” she teases, voice low and playful. “Please tell me it’s not just MILF 2.”

Your face goes hot, and you start fiddling with the comforter in your lap. “It might be.”

Rio bursts into laughter. “You really couldn’t think of something more creative?” she asks, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

Agatha’s smile never fades, but her eyes darken, and she stands up, stretching slowly. “Okay, on that note, I’m going to go shower,” she says, cutting through the playful moment. She gives Rio a brief kiss on the cheek before heading toward the bathroom. “You two behave while I’m gone.”

As Agatha disappears into the bathroom, Rio sets her coffee cup on the nightstand and leans closer to you, her expression shifting. There’s an undeniable heat in her eyes as her lips brush against yours in a kiss that’s possessive and urgent. “So you like to fuck us, hmm?” she whispers against your lips, her breath warm as it fans over your skin.

Your breath catches as her words sink in, and your body reacts almost instantly, a tingling warmth pooling low in your belly.

When the bathroom door clicks shut behind Agatha, Rio doesn’t waste a second. She pushes you back against the pillows, her touch both gentle and commanding. The electricity in the air is palpable as her lips find yours again, her kiss deepening with every passing second.

You moan softly when her hand trails down your side, grazing your hip before slipping under your waistband. She pauses just long enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re already so excited for me. Do you like it that much when I humiliate you?” Her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver.

Before you can answer, Rio presses her lips to yours again, cutting off any reply as her hand moves with a confidence that leaves you breathless. Her touch is slow at first, teasing, as though she’s savouring every little sound you make in response. The tension between you builds rapidly, and the air is charged with unspoken need.

Somewhere in the background, you faintly register the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Rio pulls back just enough to mutter against your lips, her voice low and dripping with desire. “I’ve got about ten minutes until she's done showering.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the hunger in her tone unmistakable. You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet her gaze. “I don’t think we’ll need that long anyway,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of her intensity.

Rio smirks, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your answer. She wets her fingers with your arousal before burying two of them inside you, igniting a fire in your core that threatens to consume you completely. “So eager for me already,” she murmurs, her voice both teasing and utterly dominating. Her words make your breath hitch, the hint of humiliation in her tone only heightening your anticipation as she begins to fuck you.

There is no slow buildup, and Rio is mercilessly fucking you in seconds, pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make; you’re pretty sure that the whole floor can hear you now.

She starts to pump her fingers faster, and you can hear how wet you are. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down before soothing it with a quick swipe of her tongue. "Shhhhh, baby, try and keep quiet for me; Aggie can’t know what I’m doing.”

The idea that this sex was potentially forbidden pushes you over the edge, and you grip on to her shoulders for dear life as your orgasm comes crashing over you. You pull Rio into a messy kiss to try and dampen your moans as you wind down. She pulls her fingers out, humming with pleasure as she sucks them clean.

“Fucking hell,” you pant.

Rio looks at you with a devilish grin. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening jolts you out of the haze. Agatha steps into the room, towel-wrapped and hair damp, her expression calm as she surveys the scene. Rio immediately freezes, her eyes widening slightly like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

But Agatha doesn’t say a word. She simply raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, before turning back to the closet to finish getting ready. Her calm, collected demeanour somehow leaves you even more flustered than being caught outright.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. After Agatha and Rio get you dressed, they drive you back to your college apartment; their voices light and playful. “Remember to actually text us this time,” Rio teases as she pulls up to the curb. “We’re not just for weekends, you know.”

“Yeah, text us, sweetheart,” Agatha adds with a soft smile. “We like hearing from you.”

“I will,” you promise, glancing at your phone, already thinking of what you were going to text them.

—

Later that evening, you’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone when you notice a new notification in your group chat with Agatha and Rio.

Check-In Group

MILF 2 changed the name to MILFs Anonymous

MILF 1: Rio!

MILF 2: Come on, just let me have this one thing :(

MILF 1: Fine, but Y/N, change our contact names now please

You roll your eyes at Rio’s antics but do as you’re told, not wanting to dissapoint Agatha; you still feel a bit guilty for having sex with Rio this morning.

—

Over the next few days, you find yourself texting with them more and more. The conversations flow easily—Agatha constantly checking in on you, always asking if you’ve eaten or if you’re doing alright. It’s sweet, in a way you didn’t expect, but it’s comforting. Rio, on the other hand, can’t resist sending her terrible dad jokes, which, despite your best efforts, always make you laugh.

MILFS Anonymous

~ 15:48

Rio: What do you call a group of crows that stick together?

You: Oh God, please stop

Agatha: Seriously. You’re not funny

Rio: VelCrows :)))

Agatha: Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you

Rio: It’s because I fuck you like there’s no tomorrow ;)

~ 21:17

Agatha: *click to open image*

Agatha: Huh, you don’t look like you’re doing much fucking to me

You drop your phone with a loud clatter. You were not expecting to see a picture of a Rio naked and tied to the bed with a vibrator pressed against her clit and by the looks of it, she had been like that for some time. You spend the rest of your evening fucking yourself to that image. Each time you think you’re done and can't cum any more, the image pops into your mind again, and you start to imagine all the things they would do if you were with them, and before you know it, your hand is back between your legs.

—

Thanksgiving break arrives faster than expected, and the familiar comfort of your parents' home feels like a welcome change from the chaos of college life. You arrive in the early afternoon, greeted by the warm aroma of roasted turkey and spiced pies wafting from the kitchen. It’s a little odd being home after everything that’s happened with Rio and Agatha, knowing they live just next door. You wonder if you’ll see them during your visit.

It turns out you don’t have to wonder for long.

A knock at the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and your dad answers with a cheerful, “Agatha! Rio! Happy Thanksgiving!”

Your stomach flips.

You appear in the hallway just in time to see them stepping inside, Agatha holding a neatly wrapped gift basket and Rio carrying what looks like a bottle of wine. They’re dressed casually but still look effortlessly gorgeous; Rio is dressed in a breezy striped blue shirt that’s half tucked into her jeans. The loose fit of the shirt somehow adds to her charm, her confident movements making it clear she’s completely at ease. Agatha, on the other hand, is the picture of sophistication, her fitted blazer in a warm mustard hue paired with a turtleneck and slacks giving her a commanding presence that turns heads—even in such a casual setting.

“We just wanted to drop this off,” Agatha says, her usual polished tone soft and warm. “A little something for the holiday.”

“Oh, nonsense, you’re not just dropping it off,” your mom insists, appearing behind your dad. “You’re staying for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you did for this one when they got locked out in the rain.”

Your heart nearly stops. You glance at Agatha, who meets your wide-eyed look with a calm, knowing smile.

“Really, it wasn’t any trouble,” Agatha says smoothly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I mean, we could’ve just let them in with the spare key you gave us, but... well, we thought they might prefer a warm bed and some company at ours instead.”

Your cheeks burn as Rio chimes in, her grin bordering on wicked. “And they didn’t seem to mind one bit.”

Your parents laugh, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind the exchange, but you feel like you’re about to combust. Agatha and Rio both throw you brief, pointed glances before following your mom into the dining room, leaving you standing there trying to steady your racing heart.

—

Dinner starts off innocently enough, but the air feels charged in a way you can’t quite explain. You’re hyper-aware of Rio sitting across from you and Agatha beside you, their presence consuming all your focus.

Rio’s long fingers wrap elegantly around her wine glass as she listens to your dad talk, but her gaze keeps drifting to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk every time your eyes meet. Meanwhile, Agatha takes every opportunity to lean close, brushing her arm against yours under the guise of reaching for the breadbasket or whispering a sly comment in your ear that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“You look a little flushed, sweetheart,” Agatha purrs at one point, her tone dripping with amusement. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, biting your lip to keep from saying something that would give you away. Rio catches the exchange and arches an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the two of you knowingly.

It only gets worse as the meal progresses. Rio’s foot grazes yours under the table, lingering just long enough to send a thrill up your spine. 

When Agatha pours herself another glass of wine, she tilts the bottle toward you with a raised brow, silently asking if you’d like more. You nod, not trusting your voice. As she leans over to fill your glass, her lips brush your ear so faintly it feels like a whisper of air. “Behave, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice so low and intimate that a shiver runs down your spine.

You clench your thighs and glance up at her wide-eyed, but she only pulls back with that same subtle smile, her expression calm and unreadable.

You do your best to stay composed, but your mind is spinning. Every touch, every look, and every smirk makes it harder to focus on anything else.

Then, as if the universe wants to test your resolve further, Agatha “accidentally” spills a bit of wine on her sweater.

“Oh, shoot,” she says, dabbing at the stain with her napkin.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” your mom says quickly. “Y/N, show Agatha where the bathroom is, and grab her a clean top from the laundry room, will you?”

You nod, your pulse quickening as you rise from the table. Agatha follows you down the hall, her calm exterior betraying nothing, but you can feel the tension radiating off her like heat. You scurry off to grab Agatha a clean top and quickly show her to the bathroom.

The moment you’re alone in the room, she closes the door behind you with a soft click and turns to face you, her expression shifting from composed to utterly predatory.

“Finally,” she murmurs, stepping closer, her voice low and thick with desire. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all evening?”

Your breath catches as she backs you against the counter, her hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against her. Her lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss hungry and demanding, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads through your entire body.

“Agatha, we—” you start to protest, your voice a shaky whisper, but she silences you with another kiss, her hands sliding up your sides to cup your face.

“They’re none the wiser,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “Now, let me have you for just a moment.”

Before you can respond, Agatha’s hands drift lower, deftly removing anything on your bottom half that will get in the way of her goal and letting the fabric fall to the tiled floor. Her gaze darkens as she sinks to her knees in front of you, her palms sliding down your thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, full of lust and mischief, as she leans in closer. “Dripping everywhere,” she murmurs, her voice husky and teasing, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Just like the first time we were in a bathroom together. Seems I have a knack for this, don’t I?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as her words hang in the air, her presence between your legs sending a surge of electricity through you.

It might be Thanksgiving, but your body feels like the Fourth of July when she drags her tongue from your entrance to your clit. She sucks it into her mouth and flicks lightly with the tip of her tongue before releasing it and going back to push her tongue inside you. The woman is on a mission and wastes no time in bringing you close to your climax in record time.

Her hand clamps over your mouth, not willing to risk you letting the whole street know that you’re going to cum, and then, with a final flick of her tongue, you’re glad she did because the orgasm hits you like a fucking 18-wheeler truck, your legs start to shake, and you have to grip on to the sink to stop yourself from collapsing. 

Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as the world tilts back into focus, your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened. Agatha stands, her movements unhurried and precise as she grabs a tissue and delicately wipes the corner of her mouth, her expression one of calm satisfaction.

"Still as sweet as I remember," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she crumples the tissue and tosses it into the small trash can by the sink.

You blink at her, still clinging to the edge of the sink for balance, your legs shaky and your mind a hazy blur of aftershocks. Agatha’s hands are steady as she helps you straighten your clothes, her touch lingering just a moment too long, her fingers grazing the small of your back before she steps away.

She smooths the fresh top you fetched for her, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Perfectly put together, not a single hair out of place. You can’t help but marvel at her composure, especially when you feel like you’ve just been turned inside out.

Agatha turns back to you, a soft, almost maternal smile on her lips as she gives your ass a light pat. “Go on, darling,” she says, her tone playful but firm. “Head back out there before they start to wonder. I’ll be right behind you.”

You swallow hard, willing your legs to cooperate, and make your way back to the dining room, still trying to regain your composure.

The two of you return to the dining room during dessert, the scent of sweet pies and coffee wafting in the air. Agatha looks completely composed now, her clean top fitting snugly as she takes her seat next to you. She even stops for a moment to dab a napkin at the corner of her mouth—the perfect picture of elegance considering she was wiping away the last remnants of your cum. You, however, can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you settle down, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze too directly.

From the other side of the table, Rio watches the two of you with a smirk that’s far too knowing for comfort. She raises her glass in a small toast, the corner of her lips quirking in amusement before she takes a slow sip.

“So,” she says casually, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with mischief, “did the mess get sorted out?”

Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, shooting her a calm, collected smile. “All taken care of. They were very helpful.” She says, draping an arm around the back of your chair.

Your mother beams, none the wiser. “Well, that’s sweet. Always good to know you’ve got a helping hand.”

Rio stifles a laugh behind her hand, her eyes meeting yours briefly. The heat simmering beneath your skin refuses to let up, and you can only hope that dessert wraps up soon—before someone else catches on.

-----

"we could’ve just let them in with the spare key"

*humming* it was Agatha all along

⚠️Remember⚠️validation saves lives (this fic dies when I believe nobody likes it anymore because I have imposter syndrome)

READ PART 4

-----

taglist: @aceday @valarmorghuli @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @4theluvofsapphos

[lovesick-x-prince]

Ello, with sending whumptober numbers for Scarian, 10 and 19 mayhaps >:)

Prompt: Blow to the Head - Slurred Words | Passing out From Pain | “I can’t think straight” Fandom: Third Life Pairing: Desert Duo/Scarian Notes: I went with number ten. <3 This is another prompt that ended up becoming aligned with Nobody Feels Like You. This time, if you haven't read NFLY, you may have a hard time understanding some parts of this. However, if you have read NFLY (and you're all caught up), you might spot some hints of upcoming chapters, since this is set in the 'future.'

“Lay down,” Scar urged, his hands gentle but firm on Grian’s shoulders as he pushed the avian into his nest. Grian stared at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tugged into a frown, the uneven size of his pupils made clear in the intent look.

“It’s not… night,” Grian decided after a moment, glancing over to the window. Even as he spoke, he squinted in pain, overwhelmed by the brightness of the day. Scar winced, hurrying to grab an extra blanket from the nest to cover the window. As soon as the room became awash with darkness, Grian seemed unnerved, wings shifting as he tried to sit up in the nest. “Is it night?” he demanded, alarmed at the swift change.

“No, no - Grian, lay down,” Scar insisted again, hurrying back to his partner's side. “Everything is fine, you just hit your head.”

Badly, he didn’t add. We used up all our healing supplies in the last battle, he tried his hardest not to think.

As he pushed Grian down again, he raised one hand to gently feel over Grian’s head, his heart dropping at how wet it was with the avian’s blood. “I need to get you food so you can start healing,” he decided, heart racing in his chest as he tried to leap to his feet again.

Before he could properly stand, Grian’s hands moved to grab his wrists, yanking Scar down into the nest with him. Scar exhaled roughly at the sudden rough treatment, instinctively trying to struggle away before he was able to remind himself it was just his partner touching him.

Appearing alarmed by Scar’s struggles, Grian rolled quickly to half-pin Scar below him, one heavy wing falling across his body to help pin him in place. “W - wait,” Grian stuttered, voice slurred.

“Grian!” At Scar’s shout, Grian winced again, his hand shooting up to grab at his head. Scar flinched, and lowered his voice. “You need to let me up! You’re hurt. I need to get you something to eat, you won’t be able to heal without it. I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back.”

Grian didn’t like it when Scar was far away. After being partners for over half a year, Scar understood this well. He could even relate to it. These days, when everyone was starting to fight, when Scar had witnessed explosions, battles, seeping wounds, and death with his own eyes, he couldn’t bear it when Grian was far away, either. He had no way of knowing whether or not Grian was safe if he couldn’t see him.

Grian was yellow. He’d already lost one life. Scar couldn’t stand it if he lost another.

So he understood Grian’s reluctance to let him go. Combined with his concussion, Grian likely felt even more clingy and paranoid than usual.

“I don’t…” Grian shuddered over him. He lowered his hand from his head, curling it into the fabric of Scar’s shirt instead. “I… I can’t think straight… Scar, don’t - I can explain,” he insisted, his voice suddenly urgent.

“There’s nothing you need to explain.” Scar wiggled enough to get one hand free, and brought it around Grian to gently brush over his feathers, hoping it would calm the avian. He would fight Grian if he had to, push the avian forcibly aside, but he’d really, really prefer to avoid that. “Sush… we’re both fine -”

“I’m not your enemy,” Grian continued, regardless. His words were a mess, slurring together at this point, and Scar had to work to untangle and understand them. “I’m not really the Regent.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Scar said, sighing. It seemed like the concussion was worse than he thought.

“I’m not with Dogwarts, I’m not -”

“I know, hey, I know! You would never work with them,” Scar scoffed. The very idea was ridiculous. Grian had made it very clear what his stance was when it came to Dogwarts. An alliance wasn’t possible, not when it came to Ren and Martyn.

Grian fell quiet for a moment. Then, he continued. “... You’re okay, living with Scott and Timmy?”

“We don’t live with them,” Scar said, trying his best to be patient. “We live on Monopoly Mountain, remember?”

“... Monopoly Mountain,” Grian repeated, “yes. It’s… big.”

“... Not that big, no.”

“... Underground?”

“No, it’s not underground, either.” Scar’s gentle touches seemed to help, somewhat. Grian was slumping down against his chest. Scar could feel the dampness of blood on his chin, where Grian was curled up, head pressed up against Scar’s neck. “It’s a beautiful home in the Sand Lands, where we live together. Holding monopoly over all the sand, to the jealousy of the rest of the server.”

“... I killed you with the creeper?”

“No. I’m green, I’m okay. I’m safe. You’re safe, too.”

Grian nodded, weakly. “... You’re gonna win, Scar.”

“... Maybe.”

Scar waited for Grian to continue, but the avian was silent. After a moment, Scar gently nudged him, but even that didn’t cause him to stir. Alarmed now, Scar half-sat up, moving Grian around to lay him down against the mess of blankets once more. It seemed like Grian had passed out. From the blood loss, or the pain? What if there was some internal injury Scar didn’t know about?

Scar put all thoughts of Grian’s odd words out of his mind. He needed to get Grian food, now.

He got to his feet, and quickly rushed to the kitchen.

[koolades-world]

I’m so proud of you for getting 2K followers!

Can you please do Simeon x reader (the two are already dating) with Simeon saying both prompts 5. "I’m here. You're safe with me" and 9. “are you bleeding?”

Please and thank you! :D

thank you so much!! i gladly will :))

i don't think i've ever written a dedicated piece for simeon so i'll put my whole heart into this to make sure it does him justice!

enjoy <3

prompts 5 and 9 w/ Simeon

It was getting late. The songbirds were asleep, and fireflies could be seen out in the open field near Purgatory Hall. The stars lit up the sky and if you listened close enough, you could hear demons laughing with one another. On any other day, the sight might be enjoyable and would be a great opportunity to gather loved ones to savor the moment.

But, it was too late for Simeon's liking. He was expecting you home hours ago. You had even called him, letting him know you were on your way home, and that you were running one last errand, despite the fact that you were out with friends. He didn't want to rush or question you though. You were an adult and your own person. You didn't need him looking over your shoulder. How he wish he did though.

He didn't want to call the brothers, because they would tear apart the Devildom searching for you, nor did he want to wake up his housemates out of fear they'd view him as irresponsible. He checked his D.D.D. for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, and after looking at the time, he decided he was going out to find you himself. If you were still running your errand, he could just apologize. He just wanted to make sure you were ok.

Just as he had gathered all his things and was about to put his jacket on, he heard the keys being inserted into the lock of the front door, and he heard it crack open. With the biggest sigh of relief he'd ever let out, he hung the jacket back up and rushed to greet you. You looked tired, and had your jacket oddly draped around you. But, he didn't question that. Instead, he was more focused on the bouquet of flowers in your hand.

"Sorry I took a while to get home. These are for you, sweetie. They took a tumble, so I'm sorry they look a little rough. " You held them out to him, and he felt as if his heart was about to explode from joy. Nobody had ever given him flowers before. He took them from you, and spun them around in his hands. He studied them closely, and found a little note stuck on a picket in the center. You watched anxiously as he removed it and read it.

"Mc. You're too kind. I'll have to make it up to you in some way." The note read 'because you deserve it <3' and Simeon was over the moon at the sentiment. There was no occasion. Mc just wanted to do something nice for him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I thought you might like them. No need to make it up to me. You're my boyfriend. That in itself is more than enough for me. You're my gift, silly." At your words, he threw his arms around you, unable to contain his feelings. He was usually so composed, but he just couldn't hold it in. He found it kind of ironic he found true happiness in the Devildom, but he could live with that fact as long as it meant he got to remain by your side.

In this hug though, something felt off. You leant into him heavily, which he might normally put off as you being loving and happy to see him again, but that combined with everything he'd observed when you'd entered, he felt as if he should at least ask. "Are you alright, my love?" He stepped back a little to scan you for any signs of harm. The way you wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself told him everything he needed to know.

"I'm alright. Just tired from my night out is all." You tried to comfort him with a warm smile, but he was quick to shut that down.

"Be honest with me. This isn't me trying to be mean, and you know that." He glared at you in a way you'd never seen before. With a sigh, you realized the act was up. You shrugged the jacket off, and at first, Simeon saw nothing wrong. But, as he looked closer, the fabric of your shirt looked as if it was damp.

"Are you bleeding? Why didn't you tell me as soon as you got home?" The flowers were quickly set on a nearby table as he rushed to your side to inspect you closer. You lifted your shirt just enough to show off the three evenly spaced slashes on your abdomen.

"I didn't want you to feel bad about the gift." You confessed. He was quick to put two and two together.

"Did you get this while getting my flowers?" Your silence was telling.

"I know what you're going to say, so you don't need to," you sadly told him. He put his arm around your shoulders and led you to the living room. He sat you down on the sofa and told you to hold still while he healed you.

"You should see the other guys." You weakly smiled at him, in hopes of trying to lighten the situation.

"There was more than one? We'll be talking about who did this later since I want to focus on your right now, but you can't casually mention things like that." Simeon sighed. He went silent after that to focus on healing you, and like magic, all that was left of the wounds was scars. Now, the two of you were just staring at each other silently.

"Why didn't you call me?" He remained in front of you to look you in the eyes.

"I had it. I didn't need any help." At first, you planned to stop there, but you couldn't hide anything from him. "They told me they'd hurt you if I tried to ask you for help, and I panicked. I was really worried about you, and they told me no matter what I did, I wouldn't be able to escape." You leant into him again, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Sweetie, it's alright. You did great." He wiped the tears as they fell. Despite the sparse amount of tears, you looked upset and worn down. "I'm here. You're safe with me." His words seemed to resonate with you, and you tightly clutched him as if he might vanish.

"Thank you. I love you." You rested your head on his shoulder.

"I love you too. Remember, your safety always comes first. Any world where you are is a world I want to be in." He gave you a kiss on the top of your head. "By the way, thank you for the gift, I really appreciate it," he told you, gently smiling.

"I thought you'd like it. They made me think of you when I saw them." He couldn't deny the fact that you were always on his mind, and it warmed his heart to know that you felt the exact same.

"Now, let's get you to bed. You need rest. I'll watch over you." With that, the two of you headed off so you could get your well needed rest. Simeone was glad you were safe.

[yuri-is-online]

Hi, there! :D 🌼 Congratulations on your new followers, you deserve them!

I hope to be on time for the event can I request :

"Someone" decides to ask you for your opinion about "their friend" and you decide to have a bit of fun and tease them.

With Silver , Deuce and Ace?

Take your time and no pressure, thank you very much 💗💐🌠

2. "Someone" decides to ask you for your opinion about "their friend" and you decide to have a bit of fun and tease them.

Hello treasured friend! I was hopeful you would send a request, you picked a nice combination of prompts and characters last time and your comments have been very helpful. You also really helped me out by picking Ace and Deuce, I had a second person who really wanted all of the first years with this prompt and between you both I have them all. I hope I can continue to please with these next two requests ♡ ～('▽^人)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Yuu is kind of... mean to Ace (I love him I promise), Silver and Deuce should be besties with how much wii shop music is bouncing around in those skulls. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Silver

"You are in love. And don't act so ashamed of it, young love is a precious thing, you should treasure your time with it for as long as you can."

It's not advice Silver would characterize as bitter, nor is it a point he wishes to ignore; he trusts his father to know him more than anyone so if he says what he feels for the prefect is love, then it must be true. Not that he exactly needed Lilia to voice it, Silver would like to think that he would have realized it if he had been given just a bit more time in your presence alone. But that was hard to come by when you are prone to sleeping randomly, or when your beloved's dreams are so difficult to find.

"Thank you for helping me earlier." The mask Malleus gave him hides his face well enough for him to pass of his nodding off near the star railing as simply tripping on his cape. At least, that's what Silver tells himself as you give a generic you're welcome and turn back to the party. He would like to think if you knew it was him here you would stay, but he doesn't actually know that does he? "Say-"

You turn back to Silver confused. Doesn't he need to get back to Malleus? That's what you had expected, the entire reason you had gotten to hurrying yourself away because you thought you knew if you turned around he simply would not be there anymore. But he is, his hand is extended as if it was reaching for you before falling dejectedly back to his side like you were the one out of reach.

"Have you seen Silver anywhere? Lilia is looking for him." He says it so seriously, and even though he technically says everything like that it still sounds funny to you. Really, who put him up to this? Because you somehow doubt pretending to not be himself was not what he woke up expecting to do.

"I think I saw him earlier," your hand comes up to your mouth to remind you not to laugh, Silver's relaxing now he really must think he's doing a good job lying "these masks just make it so hard to tell who is who."

"They really do." Says the one who really does not. "Do you... often look for Silver at places like this?"

"Oh only sometimes." You walk just a bit closer, it's so hard to gauge Silver's reaction to anything, he is already such a stoic person, and his training encourages an even temperament. "Really, it feels like he's the one looking for me most of the time. Why I bet if I closed my eyes right now," you make sure to do just that as soon as you are stood in front of him once more "he would appear right in front of me, just like he does in my dreams as soon as I counted to ten." Silver's in take of breath is sharp, delighting the trickster within you as you count dutifully down preparing to tease him for his attempt at fooling the master.

But Silver is honest and blunt, your eyes fluttering open in surprise at the kiss placed quickly to your lips and the maskless face before you beaming in joy as if you really had summoned him forth and not been talking to him this whole time.

"May I have this dance, Yuu?" And something about the way he says your name makes you almost believe you were still at home dreaming, no matter how real the safety of his embrace makes you feel.

Deuce

Riddle had told you once, in confidence with a great deal of pride, that when Deuce had been placed in Heartslabyul he had announced his intentions to be as "diligent as the card soldiers." Something you both agreed he certainly lived up to, even if that diligence did not always produce the results he wanted. Take tonight for example, he had asked you to dance earlier in the night, clearly intending to mask his identity to try and follow along with what he perceived the rules of a Masquerade Ball to be.

As in he intends (you assume) to pretend to be a stranger to you until midnight when the masks get removed even as he brings you all your favorites from the buffet table and just generally is content to stay around you. Some might call it hovering, but Deuce has never really been uncomfortable with you; from the first moment you and Grim had asked for his help with Ace he has been a solid presence in your life. Which is why when he starts to get shifty and nervous you immediately notice.

"Something on your mind?" You try gently, knowing that he will only feel better once he's unburdened himself, frowning slightly when he startles further.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." He sounds almost sad, but not in a way that's causing him any pain. Nostalgic, longing, it's as if there is a picture in his head overlapping the actual scene in front of him. It worries you. "I have this... friend. And I was wondering if- well you seem really smart." Your smile returns, small and tentative, waiting for him to finish thinking before you commit to your happiness. Cute, so cute Deucey seems to be worried you don't know you're dancing with him. "Do you know Deuce Spade?"

"I think so." You hum and Deuce swallows, his hand holds yours just a bit more tightly than is necessary for a ballroom dance. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering I- he- has this other friend." If Ace could hear the way Deuce was stammering right now he would whine for you to end his suffering, but you want Deuce to have his moment. So you simply nod to encourage him to continue, watching in delight the shuddering breath he takes to steady his confidence. "Is he someone you would want to get to know better? He has this... friend he wants to ask out, but he's worried that he won't know how to treat them right."

"Are they good friends?" You say, really trying to play along. Deuce nods, his mask prevents you from really knowing but you think he is not looking you in the eyes. "Besties?"

"Uh the bestest besties." He nods, all too seriously.

"Bros even." You nod too and Deuce sputters, half tripping over your feet as you decide to heed Ace's phantom advice and put an end to the charade. "Oh come on Deucey, you said that's what we were before. So what's changed?" It comes out as a joke, but it's really not. You gave up on getting a confession from Deuce so long ago you can barely believe the sheepish smile on his face is real and not some fever dream.

"I got tired of lying to myself." He steps back away from you and steadies himself, taking a deep breath before bowing, the perfect picture of loyalty and diligence. "So Yuu, will you please take my hand? And never let go."

Ace

"Say have you seen Ace?" A "mysterious" figure leans against the door frame of the ballroom, the moon highlighting his red eyes that are centered purposefully on you. It's breathtaking, your heart is already halfway up your throat keeping you from speaking aloud. You shake your head quickly, intending to taunt him in to taking off his mask but startle as his grin only widens. "Guess that means I'll have to satisfy myself with you then." And just like that you remember yourself again, is he seriously pretending not to be himself? Does he think you do not know him well enough to spot him in this sea of literally faceless people?

"Well nice to see you too I guess." You cross your arms and he has the audacity to laugh at you like you're "pouting" or something. Like he thinks your cute. "I'm not here looking to satisfy anybody."

"Aw don't be like that." Ace moves, inviting himself into your personal space as you regrettably let him. "You know how Ace is," you do, it's almost like he is in the room with you as you speak "or maybe you don't and just didn't want to admit you can't remember what he looks like." This looser, well play stupid games win stupid prizes! Since you know him so well, you know Ace will understand.

"Oh please," you straighten up and give your best neutral face of disappointment "as if I could ever forget his ugly fucking face."

"Wait-" Ace clearly was not expecting this, his shock is delicious and you are exceptionally thirsty.

"Seriously who does he think he is? Walking around like he isn't annoying everyone with his stupid half smile smirk thing, smouldering went out of style years ago dude! It's creepy now." You mean none of these things- well most none of these things. It would be extremely helpful to your sanity if Ace could explain just who he thinks he is to you specifically, because you know what you want that answer to be. "And I mean have you seen how weird he is about that prefect? Who cares if they don't have magic, if anything that makes them more ann-" surprisingly, as if he wants to prove your hypothetical whining right Ace slaps a hand across your mouth with protests bubbling out of his mouth.

"Look look ok you got me I deserve that." He says with a nervous laugh. "Shit talk me as much as you like, but don't you ever talk about yourself like that. Not around me, not around anyone." He leans forward, some of his boyish confidence returning now that he really knows for sure that you knew it was him all along. Gently, he moves his body closer to yours as he removes his hand from your mouth, moving his fingers to support your chin, not taking any chances on your looking away. He opens his mouth as if he means to continue talking, but his eyes settle on your lips for just a moment too long and the thought leaves. You stand there in ambiguous silence, masks suddenly making their presence heavy against your skin. It's a visceral reminder of how artificial the barrier between you both is, how little effort it takes to break it as you reach for his and pull at the thread as Ace closes the gap to finally answer your stupid question from before.

Sure, there's a chance you will both deny this tomorrow, take those two steps back into the grey that infuriates you both, but so long as you're in this dance together, can you really complain? Not out loud at least, no not out loud.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hey I love you fics so much!❤️ I was wondering if I could request a fic of larissa Weems or lady lesso x masc lesbian reader. I’m masc and it would be great to read a smut fic about one of them 💀 that’s if you’re up for it! Literally doesn’t matter what it’s about. Hope you have a great one!

Hey hey hey anon!! Of course 🫰🏻Also, I’m going to combine this with a blog I was inspired by—@imprincipalweemspet ! Her Larissa Weems content is so on point and I highly recommend giving her a look 💕 I couldn’t resist not adding a song 😆 Hope you enjoy! 🥰

Playful Chemistry ~Larissa Weems xFemale Short!Masc!Lesbian!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, shapeshifting d!ck, missionary, doggystyle, teasing, taunting, begging kink, little bit of cockwarming, etc.

Enjoy (;

You sauntered through the corridors of Nevermore, making your way to Larissa’s office. You let out a sigh as you turned the corner to the last hallway, loosening your tie a bit at the same time. It had been a long day and you would prefer to be able to breath. You knocked on her door and entered once you heard Larissa’s light “Come in…”.

“Hey Sweetheart…” you purred, smiling to finally be done for the day and seeing your loving partner.

Larissa met your gaze and returned a smile, “Hey Baby…” she purred back in return.

Her lips quirked up in a light smirk.

“What…?” You chuckled, coming closer to the blonde and leaning against her desk with your hands clasped together.

“That’s my favorite suit on you…” Larissa purred with a sultry edge to her tone.

“I know…” you teased the blonde, “I feel a but coming on…”.

“But… It always ends up on the floor rather than on you…” she teased back, biting her lip and quirking her eyebrows suggestively.

This caused the both of you to chuckle at her dirty remarks. You liked that about her. Larissa could be professional and formal in one moment and then scandalous and naughty in the next… And before you could stop her, Larissa was running her fingers through and teasing your short and curly locks.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, swatting her hand away playfully, “Thanks a lot, I worked all morning to get my hair slicked back…!”

Larissa giggled at your reaction, “Apologies, Baby, you’re just too cute and irresistible…”

You feigned a look of shock and hurt, “I am not cute! Take that back right now, Larissa Weems…!!” 

This caused Larissa to erupt in even more laughter.

“You’re right, I’m sorry you’re so very handsome and irresistible…” she purred, her tone full of sincerity while still trying to regain control of her breathing.

Blush crept up you cheeks.

“Thanks, dear…” you whispered, struggling a bit to take the compliment.

“Anytime, Baby.” Larissa purred, “I just have some paperwork to finish, and then I’m set to go. You can grab a book to read while you wait if you want?” She caringly offered.

You nodded in agreement, going over to the bookshelf. You scanned the shelves and your eyes set on an Austen novel on the fifth shelf up. Larissa lightly observed your actions.You got on your tippy toes to try and reach the book. But you failed with huff.

Then from the other side of the room, you heard a stifled giggle. You head swiveled over to the blonde who was quick to cover her mouth, trying to hide her amusement.

“Something you’d like to add…?” You tauntingly joked.

At that, Larissa stood up from her chair and walked over to you, her frame towering over yours. She grabbed the Austen novel that you wanted with ease, handing it to you.

“You’re so short.” Larissa teased with a light giggle.

You scowled playfully at the blonde.

“Put some inches in me then.” You tauntingly purred back, quirking your eyebrows suggestively to the blonde.

Larissa’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened at your words, being caught completely off guard. You leaned against the bookshelf with smugness plastered all over your face.

And when you least expected it and without any warning whatsoever, Larissa simply lifted you over shoulder. You immediately began squirming in her hold, but you were no match for the strength of that woman.

“It would be my pleasure, honey.” She purred with a smirk plastered all across her face.

“What?!” you exclaimed.

Before you could say anything else, the blonde was already carrying you into her side quarters, attached to her office. She dropped you back onto the ground and immediately pinned you against the door.

“I would love to put some inches in you…” she husked into your ear and then proceeding to smash her lips into yours.

You eagerly met her lips, moaning into the kiss lustfully. You were quick to throw off your blazer, your tie and shirt were next to go, which Larissa ever so graciously helped you with. Breaking from the kiss, you found Larissa’s zipper to her dress and with a breathless nod from Larissa, dragged it all the way down. The dresses pooled at the blondes feat, as Larissa swiftly undid your belt and trousers. She wasn’t wearing any underwear… and fuck did it turn you on… You gulped, gawking at Larissa’s shifted member.

“Don’t get all soft on me now, baby…” Larissa husked in your ear, as she unclipped your bra and let your last article of clothing fall to the floor. Larissa made quick work of her own bra, before picking up and tossing you on the bed. You yelped in response but we’re quickly sated by Larissa crawling on top of you, crashing her lips into yours once more.

You groaned needily into the kiss, as Larissa slid her tongue into your mouth. You pulled away panting, “please love, fuck me… don’t be a tease…” you groaned.

“With pleasure, baby…” Larissa groaned, stroking her dick and shuddering, then moving to line herself up with your aching cunt.

You bucked your hips eagerly, grabbing a fist full of Larissa’s precious locks, your other hand stabilizing itself on Larissa’s shoulder.

“Holy—Fuck…!!” You groaned out, as Larissa thrusted into you, bottoming you out in one fell swoop.

“Oh God Baby…!!” Larissa let out a guttural moan, “Feel so good hugging my cock—!!”

At that, Larissa began pounding into you, which only increased your moans and groans. And Larissa was right there with you, crying out in pleasure.

“—Shit Larissa! Don’t stop…!!” You cried out, as Larissa hit that sweet and sensitive spot deep inside your cunt over and over again.

“Fuck, Darling… I won’t…!!” Larissa moaned, “Keep squeezing my cock like that and I’ll paint your pretty walls with my cum…!”

You groaned in response to the blondes moans, “Fuck yes please…!!”

Pretty soon, both you and Larissa were screaming in pleasure as you came undone in tandem. Your walls graciously milked Larissa’s dick of all its cum, as Larissa crashed her lips into yours, cutting off your cries.

You eventually pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily. Then without warning, you swiftly swapped positions with the blonde, collapsing and snuggling into her form underneath you.

“Baby…?” Larissa hazily chuckled.

“Want you to stay inside of me…” you mumbled, nuzzling your face in her breasts, “feels so good…”

Larissa groaned lightly and her cock twitched at the idea of you cockwarming her. You moaned in response to her hitting your sensitive walls.

“I love you so much…” Larissa whispered, her fingers delicately running through your hair.

“Love you more…” you mumbled, lazily attaching your tongue to the blondes perked bud, while still straddling her dick.

Larissa immediately arched her back into your touch.

“Baby, If you keep up this torture, I’ll spin you around and bitch fuck you…” Larissa groaned out.

You hummed in response, as you removed your mouth from her nipple with a pop!, looking up at the blonde.

“That desperate, are we…?” You teased.

At that, Larissa scowled playfully at you before swiftly removing you from her dick and spinning you around so that you were on all fours and she was right behind you. You whimpered in response. Then you felt Larissa’s hardened dick against your dripping pussy. You groaned out in desperate need.

“Beg for it, Baby…” Larissa husked tauntingly in your ear.

You chuckled in response, “Oh no, love…”

With that, you felt a sudden smack! to your ass. You yelped out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Larissa quickly brought her hand to soothe your lightly pink ass.

“Come on, baby…” Larissa needily purred, “You know you want it… please…”

You finally gave in, “Fuck, Sweetheart… fuck me please… fuck me so hard… God wanna be your little cumdumpster…!!” you groaned.

Needing nothing more, Larissa thrusted into you with a pleasurable groan. She then began fucking you from behind at a tortuously slow pace.

“God, Love…!! Faster, Deeper please!!” You groaned, your fists as white as the bedsheets you were clinging onto.

Larissa more than happily complied, thoroughly pounding into you. Strings of leud moans flowed freely from both your and Larissa’s lips. It wasn’t long before the pair of you were crying each others names and coming undone.

You both collapsed on the bed, panting heavily. Larissa instinctually snuggled into your form.

“You know, I still have work to do…” She chuckled, after a few minutes of silence.

You scoffed lightly, “It’s no secret that you, Larissa Weems, would rather be doing me than doing work.” teasing the blonde.

Larissa scowled playfully at you.

“Shut up…” she grumbled, knowing full well that you were right.

You chuckled at her reaction, “Make me.”

With that, Larissa raised her head locked eyes with you. Suddenly she smirked and crashed her lips into yours. You groaned into the bruising kiss. And she didn’t stop kissing you, until you both had to pull away for breathings sake…

[utilitycaster]

Stuck my I Voted sticker on my stress ball due to the joys of living in a swing state.

Valinari Ziegler (or Nari for short) was a character I played in an Exandria campaign that unfortunately died a few years ago due to scheduling issues. He was a half-elf Shadow Sorcerer who eventually multiclassed into Rogue (when the campaign died he was 6 Sorc/2 Rogue, I probably would have gone either Swashbuckler or Mastermind if I'd gotten to level him up).

When I created him, I had two thoughts in mind: I wanted to do something fun with the Shadow Sorcerer ability that allows them to possibly stabilize at 1 HP when they would otherwise drop to 0, and I wanted to create a character with a vested interest in being in an adventuring party (because I've noticed that a lot of the time people struggle to come up with a reason their characters all want to be in a group). I ended up landing on the idea that he was a former member of the Deastok Myriad who was betrayed and almost killed by another member on the orders of someone higher up (only surviving due to his sorcerous abilities kicking in), but he had no idea who or why. His goal, then, was to make powerful friends and come back to find out why he was killed and get revenge.

Once I started playing him, however, a few things I didn't anticipate happened. First, I made him in Heroforge and inadvertently made him look like the MCU version of Loki (I had already named him after the mythological Loki's children), which prompted a whole bunch of jokes from my group and ended up informing his character a good bit--I'd always planned him to be a smooth talker, but the Loki lean in characterization made me more inclined to embark on stupid plans that bit me in the ass as often as they worked out (this also meant I was the character that pushed the shiny red button more often than not, and it caused me to utter the line "Fuck it, I have poor impulse control and proficiency in CON saves", which is one of my favorite things I've ever said in D&D). Among other things, he managed to con a treasure map from a merchant by exchanging it for a piece of bent metal that he claimed to have come from the Whispered One's stronghold but actually was pilfered from a dead kobold, but he also almost got killed by a fiend that he had threatened thinking that she was imprisoned in a way that she couldn't harm him. The other thing that happened was the classic character development of him initially seeing the other party members as instruments of his revenge but coming to care about them (in particular our party's Druid was very nice to him and, in her player's words, immediately engaged Mom Friend mode upon hearing him refer to her, the person she'd traveled with for two weeks, as his oldest and dearest friend and our Monk was both interested in the way he operated and willing to call him out on his bullshit--they had a really fun dynamic).

Mechanically, Nari is one of the characters I've put the most thought into build-wise, and I had a lot of fun playing him in combat. His build was centered on the spell Shadow Blade combined with the Shadow Sorcerer ability to cast a version of the Darkness spell that only the caster can see through. Throw in sneak attack I was doing a lot of damage. The DM also gave me a magic item that allowed me to teleport in dim light and darkness 3 times a day--it was, however, identical in appearance to MCU Loki's stupid helmet.

Hey! I saw your other message, and no, i just got off Tumblr and went to bed last night for my own well-being before seeing this, no worries about word count.

I know it feels, well, kind of silly to finish up now, but I do want to thank you for voting. It's by no means the only tool we as people in the US have to express our opinion nor to enact change, but it's certainly one of the lowest effort for the highest impact and it has become bizarrely fraught on online spaces. And so silly ask memes are by far from the only thing I do around elections or in my advocacy; but they are one of them, and I hope to continue doing them for a long time.

Getting to the actual character, I think Nari sounds all around great. "Why is my character here" is perhaps the most important thing you can ask yourself in any story, whether it's D&D or original fiction, and a lot of people don't, so having a character with clear motivations available is not faint praise: it's a sign that you put care and thought in and I think the relationships your character was able to build with others in the party reflect that. I also think the Darkness + sneak attack combo is a really creative and fun multiclass - a lot of my frustration with rogues is that I love a cool assassin in fiction but D&D mechanics explicitly make being a rogue in that archetype almost impossible, and I think you reclaimed that. And I love a big red button pusher. There's hooks! Find them!

Anyway this game and Nari sounds great, and man, I kind of hope for your sake there's a way to revive it.

[fancifulflora]

(SFW) been wanting to cry for some angsty stuff for ATOC, can I request a hc list of how would X, D, R and A react when the Crown is fatally injured, possibly shot by an arrow or stabbed?

Maybe an extra rrq that the Crown is a gentle, cinnamon roll type, that overly kind soul you'd want the least to get hurt but yeah now they're dying

The editor for this tumblr ask literally crashed when i was almost done with X's entry and I've never felt more devastated in my entire life ksahkj. There is also something very similar to this prompt though, it's more about the Crown sacrificing themselves for the ROs. If you're interested in that I'll link it here

I apologize if this isn't the best but I'll try to redo what I can

Azad/Ashti

You were absolutely foolish to get yourself hurt. No matter how kind-hearted you may have been, the Imperial Guard was made to lay down their lives for you. Any injuries you sustained was a stain upon their honor, their own failure to complete their duties.

The Royal Protector fights the icy cold waves of guilt washing over them. They save the lectures and punishments for another time because all that matters in that moment is you.

Their first priority is to get you to safety, the only sign you may see of their inner turmoil not found in their words, but their actions.

The protector's hands shake ever so slightly as they apply pressure to your wounds, hoping to staunch that they can before the healers arrive. A cold sweat chills them down to their very core as they listen for your pulse- only to find it fading away by the second.

They try to reassure you, but it doesn't work. In desperation, they find themselves practically ordering you to keep your eyes open, to not leave them while they're trying to save your life- tightening your bandages up. The unspoken words of concern and love dying in their throat when they look up to see just why you haven't responded.

By the time the healers do arrive, it takes their combined effort to finally pry the Royal Protector from your side.

Dara/Delal

Having served in the military for so long, the General was used to the bloodshed and horror of it all. Gore, suffering, and pain were things they could stomach. Or a least, the ability to do so was required of them.

It's when they see the arrow impaled in your skin, smell the metallic scent of red staining their cloak that the General realizes they may have been wrong. A complex bundle of emotions stirs under those layers of armor, but they have the strength to push through and remain vigilant.

If not for you, then for their own sanity.

Without a second thought, they tear their cloak, torn strips used to either secure the arrow in place and prevent it from moving. If not that, then to help stop the bleeding of any wounds.

They hold their Crown close, all propriety forgotten as the only thing on their mind is you. You need them in this moment and the last thing they'd ever do is fail you. Even if it's killing them on the inside.

What you need in these moments is strength, a shoulder or person to lean on. Which is why they allow you to squeeze the life from their hands. They listen to your weakened voice, giving you the same, almost practiced, words of reassurance they've given countless others.

Yet something about the words this time shakes the General to their core. This time, it feels entirely too raw, like a hundred old wounds made fresh again. The feeling paralyzes them, the unadulterated fear deep in their hardened expression.

As the situation worsens and all seems lost, the General straightens themselves, remaining by your side and keeping a steadfast vigil by your side. Never once do they stray from you. Even as crowds of healers all frantically apply aid to no avail. They remain by your side even as the anguished cries from loyal allies and friends alike sound throughout the halls at news of the inevitable.

And there they remain, even when the last wisps of golden sunlight in those eyes of yours wither away.

Rozerîn/Rêzan

To say that you were everything to the Sorcerer would be an understatement. They had found themselves and their entire life turned upside down by your very being, your warmth and kindness endearing you to the Sorcerer.

You were their purpose, and their friend.

So it's surprise that when they rush to your side, panic and fear overtakes them. The tension is almost palpable in the air as they order, practically beg for others to secure your safety- to fetch the healers- to do something.

It's also in this very moment that they curse their own abilities, or lack thereof. Healing magic simply wasn't a big priority, especially when there were so many others who could look after your health and safety.

If only they had studied more - practiced more- perhaps paid more attention to their surroundings or kept a better eye over the many enemies of Arsur.

A gentle hand, your hand, frees them from the mental prison they were trapped in, lifting the weight of guilt and shame enough for them to focus on pouring every once of themselves to saving you.

You had saved them, been there by their side from the very start.

They had to return the favor, to repay you for all your trust.

Those sentiments ring through their head, repeated over and over again like a mantra as they feel a sharp pain in their skull. Hands trembling from the sheer amount of magic they were using.

The darkness, a very similar one you once saved them from sets its familiar claws into them, the Sorcerer collapsing besides you- their fists bunching up the fabric of your clothing. With what little strength they can muster, the Sorcerer pulls you to their chest, cradling their dying star to their chest.

Xelara/Xelef

The mercenary was a mess. Clever words had long left them by the time they reached your side. Instead there were only frantic, broken phrases of concern and orders to remain still less your wounds worsen.

It almost feels out of character for them, at least, for those who only knew the mercenary by reputation. Having lived the life they did and taking on a profession that exposes them to danger so very often; the Pale Sword had a relationship with death that bordered on being blasé. Even when other Crescent Blades fell in battle, their leader could keep a rational mind about it. For many, this helped to cement the band of mercenaries as relentless, a force to be reckoned with.

If only the gossip mongers and general public could see them now, form hunched over your own. The corner of their vision blurred from the stinging of tears threatening to spill.

They had expected an end like this for them, perhaps even desiring it over the withering they'd have to endure from aging, but for you? Nothing like this was supposed to happen to you. You were the Crown of Arsur. The leader of millions that all relied on you being safe and well. And, perhaps more importantly to the mercenary, you were also the keeper of their heart.

Were? No, you are the Crown of Arsur. And you will live through this. You have to. Otherwise...

The Pale Sword ends the notion right then and there, focusing on the present and being by your side. By now, they've done what they can for you, whether through what general first aid they know or through the healing magics of one of their Blades.

Moving you was out of the question, the very attempt to do so drawing a loud cry of pain from your lips. A wince of guilt burns in the mercenary as they pull back, trying to keep your focus on them instead of the carnage of battle.

The feeling of helplessness isn't an unfamiliar one to the mercenary, however, it's one that the Pale Sword despises to their very core. But what could they do for you that hasn't already been done? What could they do to ease your undeserved suffering?

What they do best.

Lie.

It only takes a moment for mercenary to pull their act together, a practiced, albeit softer smile, gracing their features. What would have been smoothed, honeyed lies of your condition fall flatter than they'd like. Your weak smile tells them as such, a weakened, forced laugh humoring the mercenary and giving them one last act of kindness they know deep down they do not deserve. Nevertheless, they embrace the comfort wholeheartedly, bringing the back of your chilled hands to their lips, their touch- their kiss, returning your gift with one last hug of warmth before the light in you fades away.

[datastate]

do you have any hcs about mishima and nao?

SOOO MANY! BUT for now, i'll stick with a small one on their beginning friendship :D

nao used to be very quiet in a lot of her classes; a nice person, certainly, and easy to talk to! but rather closed off unless you tried to pry, where even that would just be rude and she'd say as much.

but of course, there were small things here and there she'd share with her friends should you happen to overhear. usually, it'd be anime/manga that she'd recommend to others (usually horror with interesting concepts, though she wasn't immune to well-written 'slice of life's) - which resulted in hana (her best friend) actually buying her a keychain for her bag!! nao doesn't usually wear/buy merch, as she fears she'll lose/damage them, but... since her friend got it, she felt she'd be disappointed if she didn't show it off.

&...! this is the spark for professor mishima to actually prompt her on her interests; one of the few things she'd end up rambling on about... and he has enough context to keep her going!

it was nice getting to see her actually relax a bit, if a bit surprising to realize that she liked horror so much... and of course, it was when she inevitably brought it back to art (she was inspired to become an artist from such a silly thing, though mishima assures he understands) that she started getting nervous again; as much as she loves it, she can't draw it well. it doesn't feel like it could fit her style much at all - she intimidates herself out of drawing it.

however! mishima does not lose hope so easily. he encourages her to keep trying & experimenting with her art. after all, art is something she should have for herself if nothing else...

although mishima doesn't typically work with horror, he does have plenty of pointers on how to incorporate characters into a backdrop (it provides variation + reflects his current views too... people being a part of something larger, connected through means they don't quite realize); he had a similar start to nao in that he often relied heavily on portraits/character focus, but for that reason can help lead her along into slowly branching out.

a lot of what nao likes is the eerie - something that you have to really look at to realize how off it is. working on backgrounds such as these definitely helps with integrating characters in a more natural manner! and helps improve her work altogether, too...!! she's having more fun than she used to with her personal projects, where she previously felt stagnant but couldn't pinpoint why (and felt guilty to ask hana, as the response would always be a well-meaning "but i like your art! i don't think that at all" rather than critique she wished for), so it was...!! really nice for her to have <3

and... getting to show a trusted adult that, too, made her very happy. her parents didn't often see art as something that'd work out... but she finally felt pride in her work, and had something else to look forward to when it came to classes, rather than simply skirting by day-to-day. it took about a year and a half of school to get here, but... it makes it feel worth it.

it's also around this late time of the year, too, that mishima casually mentions he's trans.

one of the other students is complaining about the cold, and he agrees a bit too personally that skirts are awful in this weather before offering his usual advice... and it's this moment that stays in nao's mind. combined with previous comments here and there about the dysmorphia in horror...

despite this near-confirmation... nao waits until the very end of the year before she admits to the professor that she's trans. she hasn't really socially transitioned yet, only a few friends know, and she's still a bit afraid she might've misunderstood that he's trans... but it all turns out well by the end of it <3

however, since she's about to enter her last year with people who mostly knew her as a boy, it's only when she graduates that mishima offers to help put word in to adjust her uniform; which she greatly appreciates... also, throughout her last year, they get to actually discuss how it is to be mixed & that is when he offers to learn arabic with her. she was never taught it, and is too embarrassed to ask her parents, so he's taken it upon himself to help her with that too... here and there, still as her mentor and friend even after their time in school :'D

[mrs-gauche]

WOW, so volume 3 of The Missing is out and… what the heck just happened? 😂 I feel like this volume left me with more questions than the previous two volumes combined. There are some VERY intriguing lore bits in this one (and also a lot of.. questionable stuff again, too lol). It messed with my head in every possible way, so I hope I can somehow collect my thoughts by writing them all down under the cut. You know the drill. :D So let’s dive into it.

(Btw, I've already talked about the matter of each volume being drawn by a different artist in my post on volume 2, so I’ll just say that, out of the three art styles we got so far, I probably like this one the least? Maybe it was just me, but I found myself a bit confused at times by the visuals and what was happening? lol Of course, this is all subjective and it's not bad or anything, I just liked the previous ones better, I guess. But hey, it’s nice to see that, apparently this new artist got BioWare’s memo on Varric’s (and Harding’s) new design, too. lol So, no sudden design change again, like we got from volume 1 to 2. Though is it just me or does Harding’s hairstyle keep changing in every volume? lol Makes me wonder what it‘ll end up being if we get to see her again in DA4 (because she‘s obviously going to be a companion 👀.)

- So we start off with a neat one page kinda “roadmap”/”montage” of Varric and Harding traveling to our next destination, Arlathan Forest….. by ship? (*still crossing fingers for a ship main base in DA4 btw*) Ok, I know I said I would stop nitpicking about every little thing in this story that seems to happen out of “plot convenience” after the last volume, but.. I just have so many questions here already. 😂

Ok, so.. how exactly did they even manage to make it out of Vyrantium like that? Are the Antaam who are setting the siege on the city, in addition to not knowing about people getting in and out of the city through the sewage, ALSO not aware of/don’t care about people leaving the city by ship? 😂 I mean, I would assume that the Antaam still have a strong naval power under their belt with all those dreadnoughts and what not, so… were Varric and Harding just incredibly lucky or are the Antaam just really bad at setting a siege? lol

In fact, why even take the risk to travel by ship in the first place? lol Especially considering how in the first chapter of Tevinter Nights, it was said that the Antaam were occupying the shores along the Arlathan Forest, so…. did they just retreat after the events of that chapter or.. again, are Varric and Harding just incredibly lucky to have not come across their camps when they reached the shores? 😂 ANYWAY.

- Nope. Luckily, they don‘t encounter any Antaam OR their dreadnoughts, but they do come across a few shipwrecks that *are* probably the result/aftermath of some sea battles between the Qunari and Tevinter, I assume? OR, my other guess, seeing as there is also this giant sea monster depicted on the map right along Varric and Harding’s route…

....maybe those ships fell victim to one of those lovely creatures. lol (Remember that DA4 codex entry in one of the BioWare Community Updates about motherflippin Sea Dragons??) There certainly seems to be a good chance for a generally far more “oceanic” setting in DA4! 👀👀

Btw, I’ve also seen people being confused about there being icebergs in the northern sea? lol

I mean, we already established snow on the equator (confirmed by Mark Darrah himself lmao), so I don’t see a problem with some ice in the nocen sea. lol

- Anyway, leaving the sea behind us… We then get a gorgeous establishing shot of our next location, prompting me to say.. Welcome to Inception Forest I mean Arlathan Forest!

Things have indeed become very strange in this place, it seems. 

My first question upon seeing this was actually how old some of these twisted structures and the ruins we see throughout this volume might be? Seeing as the general assumption seems to be that this forest was the place where the capital city of Elvhenan Arlathan once stood, and imo it’s as good as confirmed at this point that Arlathan is/was the Golden/Black City in the center of the Fade, I’d say it makes a lot of sense that magic ran wild here after Solas created the Veil and did whatever to take Arlathan to the Fade, along with some very angry trapped gods inside? lol Unless we believe that other story in which, according to Tevinter, Arlathan sank onto the ocean floor after some massive blood ritual, long after the Veil was created. Either way, the Veil/magic/spirits going bonkers in this place could be traced back to a lot of historic events.

What I am kinda missing in this panel though (besides Harding’s hair color, I guess lol) and throughout this whole volume actually, are the golden/autumn leaves we’ve been seeing in all the concept art/illustrations thus far?

Though maybe that’s just a stylistic choice by the artists?

And again, sorry for the nitpick, but plot convenience strikes again as we just so happen to walk into this very helpful group of people. lol

- Irelin and Strife!! <333 Another space to cross out on our speculation bingo card. lol And as expected, judging by their design, they are in fact the people we’ve been seeing in all the concept art/teaser trailer/etc.

- I don't know but something about the art style, the way this panel is drawn, the overall design of those guys and just the name "Veil Jumpers" is giving me huge 80s rock band vibes. 😂 Like, I was looking at this, thinking "So, when's their album coming out?" Because damn, I'll be the first to buy it! 😂

- I'll be honest, that is not at all what I imagined Strife to look like when I was reading Tevinter Nights. lol I'd say he definitely lives up to his name. 😂 He kinda reminds of Sten..? What with the hair and facial features. Also, he wasn't described to have vallaslin in TN? So did he get it after the events in the book? And speaking of similarities.. Doesn't Strife also look a lot like this one guy from the DA4 concept art?

Idk, but given the height and the skin tone, I always assumed that this has to be a hornless qunari? But upon closer inspection, the ears don't really look all that pointy, so... maybe it's just a *really* tall human? 😂 (Or sneaky BioWare once again messed with this image in editing.. I just KNOW that “Shotgun Girl” is Harding and they edited the weapon in the line up concept art to not look like Bianca and her height to resemble that of a human to fool us! I’m ONTO you, BioWare…. 👀)

- So.. the thing about Strife…

While in Tevinter Nights, he was described as a city elf from Starkhaven who eventually joined a Dalish clan, there is an interesting theory floating around that he might actually be an ancient elf. 👀 For one, he appears to be taller than the regular elf, which we know for a fact that at least some of the ancient elves were a lot taller than modern elves (Solas being a special little snowflake again lol).

His facial features are also quite similar to most of the qunari we’ve seen thus far, which could point to the theory of the Kossith being the product of some ancient elven experiments with dragon blood.

There’s also the matter of his name. “Strife” reminds me a lot of how the ancient elves like to take on a defining attribute/purpose in life as their namesake (e.g. Solas/Pride, Abelas/Sorrow, Felassan/Slow Arrow), so “Strife” might’ve literally been his name in ancient times that he now just translated into the common tongue.

- So as it turns out, the Veil Jumpers are simply an “alliance between the best Dalish mages, hunters and other non-elves willing and able to contain the threat of the chaos that reigns over the Arlathan Forest”, which has me wondering how many Dalish clans living here are currently missing a mage, what “containing the chaos” actually means and how they’re able to withstand the effects of some of the strange magic that we see throughout the volume. Also, how do non-elves even get to join them in the first place? Where do they come from?

- I gotta say, Irelin actually *does* look a lot like how I pictured her in the book. lol I like the fur she has going as a little hint at her shapeshifting abilites.

- We're also introduced to two completely new characters called Binde and Tist Tits (I SWEAR, I misspelled it the first time, but since I have the humor of a twelve year old and as a German, the pun is just too good to miss because "Binde" is also literally the German word for "menstrual pad", I'm just not gonna correct myself lmao), who don’t have much of a role or dialogue in this volume, but I still like their design a lot!

- So in conclusion, so far I’m loving the diversity of the Veil Jumpers, seeing as *cough* obviously this is one of the factions you’ll get to choose for your protagonist in DA4, so you won’t be limited to play as an elf *cough* and I’m very excited to learn and see more about them! :D

(- Btw, does anyone know what happened to Myrion? lol I would love to see him again in DA4, having joined Strife and the Veil Jumpers after the events in TN! <3)

- Varric interrupting Harding seems to be a running gag at this point. lol What also seems be a bad running gag by now is half the artists of this comic forgetting about Harding's freckles somehow. 😂 Well, at least they didn't forget about her scar this time around. lol

- Also, Varric and Harding starting off WAY too trusting again, when they don’t even know if these guys could be affiliated with Solas‘ agents or something? lol Also, they don’t even have anything to prove their claims here. Basically, there should be no reason for the Veil Jumpers to trust Varric and Harding either, especially given that they’re after some super powerful ancient artifact….. but we have to further a plot, so we’re friends now, I guess. lmao

- lmao Yeah, because apparently the Inquisition just can’t affort to send out more than these two goofballs to stop the end of the world. And I still admire your optimism here Harding, but again, given that Solas was already several months ahead of you in the last volume, how could you possibly still believe to find it before him or the Venatori at this point? 😂

- Well, I think you guys underestimate our indestructible Mr Varric “Plot Armor” Tethras. This man has survived two whole games, including several DLC, a book and like a dozen different comic series. He’ll manage, I’m sure. lmao

- I'm sorry, but how the hell does this map even WORK?? LMAO Like, how are you supposed to use this for any sense of orientation or direction?? I swear, this is what it looks like if I tell a six year old to draw a treasure map. 😂

- The weird map aside though, I think the concept of these different “trials” could make for some really fun features in DA4, gameplay wise? Like, can you imagine level design with entire upside down sections or messing with time like in the Prince of Persia games for example? I think there’s sooo much potential here for some really cool creative level design ideas!

- Now, this was super trippy! Switching places with spirits like that is definitely a first and I can’t even begin to think about what all this could indicate in terms of established lore?? Like, how does this work? What kind of spirits are those? I’ve got a lot of questions here.

„Then you’ll be trapped down here. Forever.“

- Wow, thanks Strife, would’ve been very nice to have known that *beforehand*. lmao

- I assume these are the poor people who met that very fate then, which is horrifying, to say the least. I don’t even want to guess how many ages some of them must be trapped there, seemingly unable to die? *shiver*

- I… What kind of face is THAT? lmao

- I’m impressed by Harding seeming to adapt to all of this quite well compared to Varric. Maybe she should consider becoming a Veil Jumper some day. lol

- Next up is the “upside down” trial and in relation to this, I’d like to shamelessly use this opportunity once more to refer to this little theory I posted a few weeks ago. :D

- Also, hey look, Leopards! That’s new!

- THIS whole series of events messed with my head so much on my first read.. Like, I had to re-read this part four times and I still don‘t fully understand what happened here, but we’ll get back to this moment by the end (you know what I’m talking about). lol

Though I felt SO bad for making fun of Varric rapidly aging in my last post when I saw him suddenly collapse like that. 😶 Also, was I the only one thinking about what it must’ve been like for the ancient elves to experience something similar when Solas created the Veil and time got distorted, without even knowing what physically aging even meant before that? Like, that must’ve been horrifying as well.

„I think it’s better I don’t even try to understand what just happened…“

You and me both, Varric. lol

- That’s certainly a VERY different kind of Varterral than what we’re used to. lol Though I really like this new design, gives me LOTR Ents vibes! Can’t wait to fight against one of these guys in DA4. *nervous laughter*

- I want to point out that this has to be the very first time in this entire comic so far that someone actually comes up with a plan before jumping into action. lmao Really appreciate you for that, Irelin. <3

- WOAH OK, hold on a second??? There’s so much to this panel that I don’t even know where to start. lol I literally gasped out loud.

Ok first off, the mural on the right. Obviously, this is the same mural that we saw in the 2020 teaser trailer, which indicates that this has to be the same place then, too, right? (Unless Solas is just walking around leaving his signature graffiti all over Thedas. lol Though I do wonder why this one looks way more “crumbled” than what we saw in the teaser?)

The mural on the left though is new and probably the juciest part about this whole volume for elven lore scholars. lol I’ve already seen many people speculate, so I’ll just say that my initial thought on this was also Ghilan’nain and Andruil!

So, there are two figures that appear to be female with some very familiar headpieces, who seem to embrace each other in some way. The shape of the headwear seems to also align with some of the symbols we’ve seen in the latest cinematic, which are widely assumed to represent the Evanuris.

And the upper figure looks a lot like the one seen in the teaser and the concept art, which going by the fandom’s most popular assumption, could very likely be Ghilan’nain.

As far as we know, the only females in the elven pantheon are Mythal, Sylaise, Andruil and Ghilan’nain. And out of those four, Ghilan’nain and Andruil are believed to have been lovers. So, if that’s what we’re seeing in this mural, that would actually be a huge deal, since, well, up until now, we didn’t even know what any of them looked like!!

There also seems to be an ominous third person, cramped up in the lower corner of the mural, which does kinda resemble the red lyrium idol, like the amazing @felassan​ has also pointed out in this post!

And while looking at this, I realized that those garments and headwear are also very reminiscent of some Tevinter designs we’ve seen, particularly the Archon’s outfit?

Which imo could hint at Tevinter once again just adopting a lot of ancient elven concepts into their own culture after they conquered them all these ages ago. Like, it’s surely no coincidence that the mage-ruler of the Imperium looks so much like the most powerful rulers of Elvhenan?

I’ve also seen people saying that the red female appears to be pregnant?? I’m not so sure though, it’s hard to tell from the angle and the way it’s draw. 🤔 But if true, it would definitely raise *a lot* of questions.

Though I can’t believe I haven’t really seen anyone actually point out the most baffling part about all of this!

Which is, why the flippin hell would Solas even choose to draw such imagery in the first place?? lmaoo (Assuming that the right mural was probably made by him, too. Which suggests that he drew this one as well.) Like, is Solas treating these ruins like his personal drafts for his secret tumblr side blog, drawing intimate GhilxAndy fanart?? Solas, you owe us ANSWERS, Sir!

And funny enough, the art style does make it kinda look like these murals are more like giant wallpapers rather than actual frescoes. lol

- ANYWAY, since there’s still a lot more to get to, let’s talk about the “Big Shocking Reveal”.

And I’m not talking about the fact that Solas has apparently taken the Crucious Stone long before they got there.. No, that wasn’t even remotely surprising to me. 😂

No, I’m of course talking about Varric thinking it was Solas who saved him from that Leopard. lmao

THIS made my head spin in so many ways, and it kinda still does lol, so I’ll make an attempt now to make sense of this the best I can.

So, let me get this straight… The way I take it, the supposed “Venatori assassin” ran up to Varric out of seemingly nowhere, shoved him aside, then Varric “aged back”, the Leopard jumped on the assassin instead, turned into a kitten and then the assassin essentially…. disintegrated? lol At least, that’s what it looks like to me...

All right. So if that’s what happened, then I feel like there are several possible scenarios here.

A) That Venatori guy was actually real, but was somehow manipulated by Solas to do this.

B) Solas made a spirit possess the guy or there was never a real person in there to begin with.

C) Solas actually pulled another “Bard” disguise and dressed up like the Venatori assassin himself (although I don’t know exactly what happened to him then when he “vanished” after that kitten attack lmao), which I guess would also retrospectively suggest that the Venatori who had been stalking Varric and Harding since volume 1 was also Solas himself all along……

*sigh*

You know, honestly I had this silly thought in the back of my mind from the very beginning, like I kept laughing to myself, what if this Venatori was actually Solas all along... but I guess I just refused to ever write it down in my previous posts because… I thought it was just.. too ridiculous? 😂

And I don’t particularly mean the disguise part, obviously ever since “the Bard”, anything is possible. lmao

No I mean.. Why.. the heck.. would Solas… stalk Varric and Harding, while setting them up on this loooong friggin goose chase through half of the country and leave all those clues for them to follow his tracks…. only for Varric.. to find this letter.. telling him NOT to interfere??? What was the purpose of all this then?? Like, how does this make sense?? 😂 Someone help me understand… That being said, I just really hope it was either case A or B. 😂 Or Varric is just.. wrong? lol OR I should simply stop questioning the logic of this very simple comic. 😂 As long as the actual game’s writing doesn’t leave me with a headache, I’m good.

Though in hindsight, it IS pretty funny how I even kept saying how crappy the Venatori was at his job. lol Like them leaving the X pattern on that deepstalker in volume 1 was such a strange thing to do? And if it turns out to be case C, then I can already see Solas trying to pull this number on us again in DA4. lmao I guess the game’s slogan will be “Trust no one.” It could be Solas in disguise. 💀

- I love how Solas apparently made his own customized Dread Wolf signet ring for a wax seal AND proceeded to even sign the letter with his name, as if there could be ANYONE else leaving a letter like this addressed to Varric in such a place. lmao This MAN!

- Oh dear, Solas really was like „Please Varric, elven mythology already turned me into their greatest villain in history, I don’t want to be one in yet another smuddy literature popular narrative…“ lmao

- I’m a little confused by this conclusion, seeing as the previous volume mentioned that magic had already “run wild in Arlathan Forest for at least a 1000 years”. So I thought this was nothing that happened just recently because of Solas‘ actions? Though maybe Irelin is talking about something else? Or the state of Arlathan has somehow gotten even stranger since Solas started to prepare something for his big ritual he mentioned in Tevinter Nights?

- It’s also interesting to note that, out of all the factions we’ve come across so far in this comic, the Veil Jumpers are now the only ones who actually got to know Solas‘ name and identity?

- So that’s where we’re leaving off and looking at the blurb for the final volume again, I’m curious to see how all this will now tie back to Minrathous and if the Crucious Stone is even going to play any significant role at all. lol As you might've noticed there were a lot of "why" questions here, which I doubt any of them will be answered in the final volume, so... I guess we're just left to wait for what's in the actual game then. 😂

If anything, the preview of the final cover does seem to complete our speculation bingo card, with how it continues to follow the pattern of the factions in the teaser/concept art/short stories from 2020.

So I assume the final faction, which is the only one still somewhat shrouded in mystery, is going to be have something to do with “The Viper“/Tarquin? 👀 So I’m very excited to find out who it’s gonna be and most of all, to get a look at the big city, Minrathous itself (and who knows, maybe we even get to see Solas in the very last panel or something)! Let’s see how all this ties in to DA4! :D

[daredevilexchange]

Do you like Daredevil, The Defenders, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Iron Fist, the Punisher, and/or Team Red, in their comics or TV (or, in some cases, cinema!) versions?

Then, get ready for the new and improved exchange… still with a Remix Option! You can say you’re open to getting a gift created from one of your own fanworks :D

LAST CALL! Signups close on Monday, September 4!

(Roughly until Sep 5, 10am UTC)

Works revealed on AO3 on Halloween, and submissions posted on Tumblr from Halloween onwards.

How? Sign up here! You will be able to give several prompts (different types of prompts, too! Music, scenarios, one word prompts…) and you will, of course, receive several prompts ^_^

Your job? Use at least one of these prompts to create at least one fanwork! You can combine several prompts in one work, use the same prompt for several works… The one hard and fast rule is to respect your giftee’s squicks!

Please get in touch with your giftee anonymously if only to let them know someone is creating something for them, and of course if you have any question :-)

What types of fanwork? Here’s what you can do: Gifsets (6 gifs min), Fanfic (1,000 words min), Fanmix (6 songs + cover min), Fanvid (1 minute long min), Graphics / Fanart, needle art, podfic.

What’s the timeline? Signups until Sep 4 (your time zone is fine), prompts sent around a day or two after that (depending on your time zone), fanworks due OCT 28 in the AO3 collection if you're using AO3, and must be submitted to Tumblr. AO3 collection revealed on Halloween! If you have a scheduling issue please get in touch with the blog, we can probably work something out ^_^ And you will be able to post on the dedicated AO3 collection earlier since it will be kept unrevealed until D-Day- aka Halloween! Yes, you can go wild on bats and zombies if that's your jam ;-)

Where to post? Tumblr, AO3 (Exchange collection name: dde2023 / Daredevil and Defenders Exchange 2023)… let us know where you’re posting so we can share it on our two blogs, DW and Tumblr. AO3 can’t host video or graphics, but you can still put them up on the Archive as long as they’re already online somewhere else like Instagram, DeviantArt, YouTube, Squidge hosting, etc. Get in touch if you have questions about posting !

Posting guidelines are here (this link should be opened in a separate browser tab, NOT the app) or here, please take the time to read them! You will find more important information there. If you do not have an AO3 account and want one, please get in touch with the blog.

If you'd like to reblog this last call, @thebigbangblogproject @marvel-events-central @trackmarvel @nmcunyc @fanwork-exchange-promos @hells-kitchen-discord

A winning banner by @neonbrutalism !

Banner ID: All four Defenders and Frank are sitting around a table strewn with red goblets, coins, and beer bottles and cans. They're playing cards and gambling. From left to right, Matt wearing a red shirt is feeling his cards with his fingertips, Jessica in black has her chin in her palm and is side-eyeing Luke, Luke i a yellow shirt is grinning down at his hand, Danny in green is looking pensively at his own, and Frank, seen in profile in his customary black shirt, is gritting his teeth. We can see the back of Foggy's lavender shirt as he's leaving the table; there's an empty chair left around the table.

[ashen-sky]

Red vs. Blue: Restoration

Writing this as I watch, Spoilers ahead

Doc and Wash's conversation feels like an exposition dump, and I can't tell if it's because Wash is being interrogated or the dialogue really is that clunky.

THE AIS ARE BAAAACK. Also poor Tucker, being conscious through it all and knowing Sigma wants to kill him.

I feel like Church's animated explanation feels kind of out of place, not because it's not something he would do but because it feels so modern compared to where the Chorus reds and blues left off. Like it feels more like a dig at the audience than a joke in universe because up until this point they got by with verbal explanations. It would have felt more natural for Church to day "Since we don't have time for you guys to not understand, I made a video" instead of "Since no one can understand anything without fast moving pictures" (or whatever the exact line was).

Also, Church's inability to predict what Caboose says is so funny.

This whole thing is just Valhala and the hunt for the director all over again. Which is fine because at least there's no cyclops. This isn't a complaint, just an observation.

Anyways Church should have withheld Omega, not the memories of why combining is such a dumb idea. Like, one of the pieces that build the basis of his sanity (I.e Delta, Theta, ect.)

Was the pilot supposed to be 479er?

Lmao, Simmons getting "Shut up Caboose"'d and Caboose apologizing.

Caboose still has the confetti gun!

"It looks more like they're making fun of the last four years, which is fine because that's what it started as" -my dad, who I agree with when you look at it like that

Anyways, that was prompted by the security team working from home, which was a funny bit

It was 479er! Pretty sure the VA is different, do love her re appearance.

Love Tucker taking control, Caboose telling him not to blame himself, and Sarge going back was a really nice sequence.

... THEY KILLED SARGE, NOOOOO. I mean, I guess it's character growth for him but... the idiots were all supposed to leave together.

Why does Blood gultch look a bad 3D rendering?

Griff finally got discharged and he stuck around!

It kind of feels like this was roo focused on being the end. Like that campfire scene? It was cute, and the memories were nice, but it felt too final.

Nothing will beat Church's hero speech, but Caboose's speech? The story of Allison and memory? Definitely a favorite

It's also fitting that Tex and Carolina took Meta down, along with the reds and blues, because the Meta exists because of them. And it tormented them. It was their closure, and Carolina getting to fight with her mother made it necessary and not just a rehash of Alpha letting Tex go and the director dying. Also, Tex finally got to do what she wanted. She got to choose her fate.

Also, that twist with Doc made that clunky conversation make more sense. Seeing the freelancers made me happy, and holy fuck finding out Doc was dead was sad.

Wait, I never saw past s16, is one a reference to something? Also, one sounds like 479er, is that the real 479?

Tucker’s after credit scene was sweet... Bow-Chika-Bye now!

All in all, this wasn't a bad finale. I definitely think it would have been better as episodes because the tone wasn't consistent enough for a movie, those Wash bits early on felt a bit shoehorned in. But I don't really think anyone's characters were butchered, even Sarge dying is understandable.

Red vs Blue is about cycles, and this put an end to them all. The AIs are gone, Wash isn't letting the memories of the dead control him, Sarge isn't stuck in endless search of battle, and Griff is free of the military.

The show definitely isn't worse off with this finale, and the memory speeches (both Caboose's and Carolina/Wash's halucinations), are definitely in the top 3 with Church's hero speech for me. I am kind of glad they did this though, because the end of s13 did sort of imply that the AI fragments would be back and this finally and truly put them to rest.

EDIT: I FORGIT THE MOST IMPORTANT PART! Tex being able to kick Meta's ass because she was the Reds and Blues memory and not Alpha or Leonard's was a nice touch. I thought when Caboose was telling the story of Allison it was because it was such a huge driving force for Chruch, but it was because it was Tex and she needed to know who she was.

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 11:

"All the lights going dark, and my hopes destroyed"

Animal trap | captivity | "no one will find you."

Fandom: Ducktales

Prompts used: All

Soooo this combines things with Donald in it, meaning small things were changed here and there. Including the whole Webby being April and May and June being clones etc. If you don't know my military headcanons for Donald, I have a chapter explaining it in the 'Dime a Dozen au'. Brief recap is basically he and his team (including Josés older sister) were held captive on their last mission and experimented on. Donald loses feeling in like half his body, and two members on his team. Any questions, don't be afraid to ask!

…

Donald really needed to just, stop trying to do things. Obviously he just wasn't good at it, wasn't made for this world of doers, was cursed to never be able to complete anything. He thinks the only people that were ever able to work with his bad luck without his detriment, were the Caballeros and co. It feels like every other thing he can think of ended badly for him more often than not. And yeah, sometimes that was okay, 'cause it was saving others, but he's so tired.

He had gone on this little trip, by himself, because it was rumored to have exactly what he wanted. When you have a family like his, it was hard to get them gifts. Donald always hated that he couldn't spoil the boys like he wanted to, but he could do better now. And this time, all he needed was the mineral he could supposedly find here. To make a compass for Huey, a boomerang for Dewey, a shield for Louie-and maybe a piece for him to sell, a dagger for Webby, a new leg piece for Della, a handle for José's cane, a new piece for Panchitos guns, and new glasses frames for Uncle Scrooge.

He had a whole plan, was even hoping he'd find excess for a couple extra gifts for one, but of course, why would anything go his way? 

He feels numb, flat on his back staring up at the sky, one leg is bleeding profusely where iron has punctured skin, something he should definitely take care of, but he can't seem to get the gumstion to rise. He wonders what creatures out here would warrant such a trap, and why it was on a path instead of off it, or he wonders until a shadow falls over him and a face comes into view. 

How many times will he almost die before he does? Especially for being a part of his family, or for the friends he has, he should have kept his emo stage and stayed indoors. 

"Hello Mr. Duck." 

John D. Rockerduck had disappeared after the whole FOWL thing went down, along with several other nemesis' of Scrooge. So why wouldn't Donald find him on his first trip alone? He would have preferred Glomgold, he did not typically use traps such as these- though Donald supposed the hired muscle might of- but as it was, he's got a leg clamped in a foothold trap, an old arm injury acting up, and zero quacks to give. 

"Finally I can hit McDuck where it hurts!" 

"Oh? Is your money bin bigger than his?" Donald knows that he's almost never understood, but he'd burst if he kept all his comments to himself.

"Had to be the noisey one though, no matter. Jeeves!" The lumbering half dead butler muscle comes into view, bending down and slinging Donald under his arm with ease. "It's gonna be over for you, and with Scrooge at his weakest, I will finally show the world who's better!" 

Laughable really. But Rockerduck can think what he wants, Donald can at least envision his face when he realizes he's failed once again at Scrooge's hands, even if he doesnt get to actually see it. 

Panch and Zé had worried about him going alone, worried about his mindset and all that. He can see why now, laying limp in an enemy's arm, leg useless, feeling less than spectacular. He should be angry, fighting, screaming nonsensical barbs… wow, it's a rare state to find him feeling meh without the anger. 

"Say hello to your new home!"

 

Before he can even look up and make a snip about free real estate, he's airborne with an undignified squawk. He sees smooth dirt on all sides for several long moments before he lands with a thump- only years of falling that keeps him from braining himself, though his body would still bite back with a 'hurts like heck'. 

"If you try and get out, I'd keep an eye out for the night beast the locals are all chatting about. Oh and don't worry, no one will find you. Bye Bye!" Donald can hardly make out his silhouette above him, hole so deep the light barely creeps all the way down.

With both his legs, it probably wouldn't be too hard, Donald has gotten out of worse, but with his leg as it is itd take awhile, and he would rather not take his chances if there is a night beast. One could argue it's not laziness if he's avoiding a larger problem. 

Ah, is that where Louie's brain goes? 

Well, if he dies here, his family will surely kill him again for dying so soon after his last almost death with the whole FOWL thing. Maybe Duckworth would let him stay with him? 

Deciding to be semi productive in the meantime, Donald grasps at the two springs on the trap and pushes down as hard as he's able, moving his leg diagonally and hissing as it pulls free. Casually ripping his sleeve off he binds his leg as best he can, grateful it didn't get to the bone breaking part. This is certainly not nearly as bad as his time in the Navy. 

He leans back against the compact dirt wall, cool and damp as the heat of the day fades. But with the fading heat goes the sunlight, and his hole is slowly filling with shadows. He and the moon may not be on the best of terms, but he wouldn't mind its light right about now. 

He jinxed himself, he should know better by now really. Shaking his head, curling closer to himself to keep warm, All the lights going dark, and his hopes destroyed once again. He'd just wanted to make his family some gifts. It was just supposed to be a nice easy trip. 

How long would he wait this time? Would they look for him? Was the effort of getting out even worth it? He scratches absently at the wall, only to catch on something solid. Curiosity piqued and reaching through the bars of his mind, he put more effort into his scratching, revealing exactly what he'd come here for. 

What irony, to be thrown in a hole where his objective was waiting. His laugh is on the edge of hysterics, as he finds his time occupied with digging. Filling a makeshift bag- his undershirt sacrificed for the duty- full of the material, he uses the gouges as hand and foot holds. 'Look at me being productive and stuff, ha!' 

Just as he reaches the ledge, thinking just maybe he could brush all this off and pretend it didn't happen, a growl echoes around him. He groans, dragging his leg over the ledge like the dead weight it is, and lays there for a moment. He ponders staying there vs running- or well hobbling- and ultimately his hard earned loot wins out. He rolls, momentums himself into a standing position, balancing on one foot. He glares at the nature around him and the dumb moon that still evades his vision and leaves his surroundings annoyingly shadowy. 

Before he can get his first embarrassing hop going, the growling is right behind him, echoed by a scottish accented response. He turns an unimpressed head to find Scrooge and Della on a bear of all things.

"Donald!" 

"That's a bear." Donald states it, hoping to remind them of their mortality- however vague it may be. 

"Bah, I speak bear lad, dinnae worry about it." 

"Uh, but maybe worry about your leg, or we'll be twinning from head to toe!" Dellas' flashlight aims right at him and he shields his eyes with a glare.

"Rockerduck is on his way to the mansion." 

"Oh good, Webby's been wanting to test the new defenses. Get on lad, we'll get ye home." 

"I was rescuing myself." Donald says, making his way around the bear cautiously, weird hop not even causing the animal to flinch. 

"We should have been here sooner, we'll do better, no more rescue worthy scenarios!" Della heaves him up, and Donald can see her worry up close. 

A strange thing, what ten years and several life or death scenarios can do to a relationship. Did they care before? Maybe.

He looks at them as they make their way towards the awaiting plane. 

Are they working on it now? 

Yeah… maybe they are.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

For the writing prompts can I get uhhh

One lot of Elmer and JoJo being best friends please

I am fine with anything abt those two but if you need smth more specific I love the dynamic of Elmer being atheist and JoJo being Christian but they're still best friends

One lot of Elmer and JoJo being best friends and causing problems on purpose! Thank you for the prompt! I hope this is okay :D

“I have an idea.” Elmer said, and that sentence alone was enough to drag a groan out of JoJo.

It would be unfair to say that all the trouble they got into landed squarely on Elmer’s shoulders alone, but he could unload about a solid eighty percent of it to him. JoJo just wasn’t a fan of causing problems, primarily because he knew he’d get a lecture from the nuns when they inevitably got wind of it, which he could account to Jack apparently, based of the raised eyebrow and knowing smirk he gave him last time when JoJo met his eyes over the Sister McGonagle’s shoulder as he’d finished his morning coffee.

That was embarrassing, and he wasn’t due a repeat for at least another week or two but tryna keep Elmer in line that long was more difficult than the other boys gave him credit for. Davey had once called him an enabler but JoJo wasn’t sure what that meant so he didn’t think it was true.

Elmer was real persuasive when he wanted to be, and Jojo was easily persuaded. It was just a bad combination but one that was impossible to tear apart.

“What?”

“Well, y’know how Davey has a ma an’ pa n’ all.”

This was going somewhere it probably shouldn’t.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I says we get ourselves invited over for dinner huh? I bet his ma’s a real good cook.”

Jojo frowned. “Ain’t you got a mother?”

“Well, yeah, but I also got a million brothers, ain’t like there’s alotta food left for me by the time they all gets to it.”

“That’s fair.” He had to concede.

JoJo weighed up the consequences, cuz it weren’t like they’d be doing anything wrong persay, maybe pestering Dave a little but that wasn’t anything the other boys didn’t do on a daily basis, nothing that either of them could get in trouble over.

“So what’s the plan?” He asked and Elmer grinned.

“We just gotta be real nice to him all day, maybe throw in a line or two about how we ain’t been to a friends house in ages.”

JoJo was unimpressed.

“You think that’s gonna work?”

“Definitely.”

JoJo stared at him for a moment, assessing, wondering why the couldn’t just ask him if they could come over (Dave was a real decent guy) but Elmer just smiled at him again before he spat in his hand and held it out.

“It’ll go great. An’ I heard his big sister makes dessert sometimes.”

And Elmer shoulda led with that part, cause really that was all JoJo needed to hear.

They shook on it.

xxx

JoJo knew that Elmer wasn’t the most subtle person he ever met but this morning he was laying it on thick, Davey had barely got his papers when Elmer, from across the distribution centre, decided to start enacting his plan. Loudly.

“Hey Davey, yous real smart y’know that?”

David looked up from where he was counting his pile of papers, and he wasn’t the only one either, Jack at his side instantly narrowed his eyes, and Racetrack took one of those long drags of his cigar, mouth curling up to a smile around it as he glanced between Elmer and Dave.

“Alright.” Jack said and moved toward them, dragging David behind him by the upper arm despite his protests characterised by an eyeroll and then acceptance of his fate. “I’ll bite. What have you done to Dave?”

Elmer put that look on his face, the one that was pretending to be offended, so obviously fake because they all knew what his real offended expression looked like when they made fun of his selling.

“What? I can’t compliment Dave without an uh-“ he paused. Jojo just stared at him.

This was a sinking ship.

“Without a- what do you call those things? The motivater or somethin’”

David raised an eyebrow. “An ulterior motive?”

“Right yeah that. I can’t compliment you without one of those?”

“Not in that tone a’ voice you can’t.” Jack interjected.

“What tone a’ voice?”

Ah this was Jojo’s turn to interject before he dug himself a bigger hole he wouldn’t be able to climb out of so easy. He winced a little and shrugged apologetically. “You do have a voice.”

The betrayal in Elmer’s eyes was almost enough to make Jojo retract the statement.

“I thought we was in this together.”

“Okay, in what together?” Jack said. “What are you doing?”

“Actually nothing.” Jojo said. “An’ I know you ain’t gonna believe me but it’s Gods honest truth Jack and I wouldn’t ever lie bout that.”

What could he say it was his duty to protect his friends from their own dumb ideas.

Jack frowned. “You wouldn’t.”

“Me neither.”

“We all know you don’t believe in God Elmer.”

“Yeah. Well. You gonna hold that against a guy?”

“Okay, whatever it is I want it done now alright.” He clapped a hand on David’s shoulder in a way that made him lurch forward a little and then accept it as Jack swayed him back n forth, it reminded Jojo vaguely of the cat that Elmer had found a couple weeks back and kinda just held, hands under his two little front arms as the rest of him hung, swinging gently. “Dave’s got exams comin’ up, he don’t need to be dealin’ with your pranks as well.”

“We would never.” Elmer said, indignant, and Jojo found himself nodding sombrely in a agreement, even if their last prank on David had gone off without a hitch and had left him covered in flour.

“Yeah.” Jack said, in a voice that meant he definitely didn’t believe them. “I believe you.” He swayed David once again who just sighed and let it happen. “I’d watch your back Davey, y’know what they’re like.” He concluded and slapped him once, with enough friendly force to jolt him forward again and then turned away, wondering back to Race.

David stayed stood in front of them, an expectant look on his face.

It was JoJo that broke the silence eventually.

“You’re like a cat.” He said.

He always liked saying what was on his mind, apparently Elmer wasn’t fussed on his honesty.

Elmer elbowed him, voice low and hurried, “Jo that ain’t a compliment.”

“Only if you don’t like cats.”

David just looked confused.

Elmer for some reason, kept talking, apparently trying to pull this back. JoJo had already given up the act of trying not to seem suspicious.

“You like cats Dave?” Elmer asked.

“I like cats.”

“Then take that as a compliment.”

“You sure you have no ulterior motive?”

“None.” Jojo said before Elmer had the chance, and grabbed his arm, because at this point it was best to quit while they were ahead and he knew it was ironic that arguably the least harmful plan Elmer had come up with in a while was the one that got them caught before they even got to actually enact any of it. “Anyway if that’s all Davey we real best be headin’ on, the nuns said they was expectin’ us cause I forget somethin’ in church n’ told em’ I’d finally drag Elmer with me and you really shouldn’t leave a nun waitin’ it ain’t proper.”

And then he was pulling Elmer away before David even got the chance to respond because this plan was a bust, and if he was gonna be petty about it, he never thought it was a good plan to begin with.

“You’re dumb.” JoJo said, as they shuffled their way out of the distribution gate

“You’re dumb.”

“You’re dumber.”

“I got a new plan though.”

For the second time that day Jojo groaned, he already knew what his answer was gonna be.

[callofdooty]

5-4-3-2-1 Tag Game!!

Tagged by @alidravana ! Thank you so much for the tag! :D

top 5 works i’m proudest of (not in any particular order):

Since I only have two actual works, I'll just put them both LOL:

Just Us - Keegan and Merrick havea moment after the events of the game

My Bed Is A Pool And The Walls Are On Fire - Keegan being delirious for 1000 Words

top 4 current wips i’m excited about:

Mostly all Whumpuary works since they've got my full attention rn LOL

Woken Up Like An Animal - Fill for the prompt Nightmares. Logan makes friends with Mouse after he accidentally kicks her across a room. Title is a line from Human by Daughter (aka one of the best Logan songs to exist LOL)

Keegan's Hypothermia fic - Prompt fill for Hypothermia and "Stay With Me" - Trying to play into the found family as much as I can because I am a SUCKER for it) Pending title ^^

My Heroes Are Dead (They Died In My Head) - Prompt fill for Betrayal. Bitter stream of consciousness, takes place after Struck Down, from Keegan's perspective (but Ajax's fate will be left ambiguous so he might be dead, might be canon divergence that lets him live) Title is a line from Diluted by Slipknot

I Won't Give Up On You (So Don't Give Up On Me) - Prompt fill for "Don't Do This" and Blurry Vision. Not entirely sure what this will entail but it will probably center around Hesh and Logan :) I love :) Angst :) I'm just hella into the title and the prompts as a combination. Title is a line from The Sadness Will Never End by Bring Me The Horizon

top 3 improvements in my writing:

Actually rewriting drafts. A lot of the time, I don't typically rewrite drafts, but for some of the Ghosts ficxs, I've actually got multiple different versions of fics LOL

Uhh I'd say I've definitely developed a stylised way of writing? Which, is actually pretty much just the way I write normally AHA - a lot pauses in strange places, and of course the angsty internal monologuing. I also like messing with structure when I can (Unfortunate House of Leaves simp over here)

Catching when my tenses slip. I don't know why, it might be due to roleplaying, but I find that I often flip between past and present tense in the middle of writing (where it wouldn't make sense to) But I've been able to catch it, lately. Makes editing fics a bitch LOL

top 2 writing resolutions:

Just posting more honestly. Last fandom I wrote fics for got a grand total of three fics because I didn't get to finish the others LOL, and then I kind of drifted off to other things (it's still some of my best angst work, so hopefully I can bring that energy to the Ghosts. The character I fixated on actually might have some similarities to Logan ssooo 👁 👁)

Maybe trying to branch out more? My two modes of writing are Hurt/No Comfort (hilarious, because I hate reading Hurt/No Comfort) and Whump so maybe I can try smth else? Maybe romance? Definitely not something I'm familiar with writing, but it feels like something I could try. (The real issue is finding ships I wanna write about /hj)

number 1 favourite line:

Hmm, this is hard, so I'm going to make up for all the other ones I can't fill by giving a few LOL

From Just Us, I'm quite fond of this line:

Shame stirs in his stomach, making him nauseous before working its way up, gripping his heart and then balling up to cause a lump in his throat that he tries his best to swallow around. "I miss him." The shame ignites like a gasoline trail, flaring quickly into anger (whether it's at himself or Rorke... it's hard to tell with all the smoke) that only makes him feel more sick. "God damn it, I miss that piece of shit."

From the Nightmares fic I'm working on (almost done with it!):

Her eyes did more than enough talking on that front, strangely expressive for how closed off she otherwise seemed. They told a thousand stories; all indecipherable, written in a language that no one could speak of, but could understand all the same. The mind's exact tales of suffering were locked away, hidden, but their effect still seemed to shine from the soul's very own fractured looking glass. A hint of resignation acted as dust upon the reflection's surface; a house haunted by time more than any other phantom.

and then this giant excerpt from a WIP abt Hesh :)

Occasionally, a glimpse will come to Hesh’s mind. Sometimes it’s intrusive, lightning flashing against a canopy of dark clouds, shaking the foundations of his mind with a deafening roar. Sudden, brief and violent in nature. Other times it’s… slow. Easy and gentle, like ocean waves crawling their way up the beach; soft, hushed. Almost comforting, if not for the deep grief that the tide often brought with it, the wind brushing by carrying the faint echoes of laughter and excited voices.

On days like this, the wind only seems to carry his own distant screams. The tide now feels lonelier than it ever did. That one set of footprints trailing in the sand was just that; a single set. The second set of imprints settled in his own stride now gone. 

Instead, the ghost of his shadow is embedded yards away, a trench dug out by desperately grasping hands, reaching for anything. Reaching for him.  

It’s still the gentle ease of a memory washing over him, sea foam gathering, swaying and receding slowly, but that’s perhaps what makes it worse. The slowness. The time he has to sit there and dismantle himself from the inside out, while his own head taunts him with things he no longer has, can no longer reach out for. Even the ebb and flow of water can wear down cliffs with enough time, steady and persistent in its movements. 

Imagery galore! LOL

tagging... @bubble-dream-inc , @goorehound and @neon-amnesia (If y'all want to, don't feel pressured to! ^^)

Basic Template:

top 5 works i’m proudest of (not in any particular order):

top 4 current wips i’m excited about:

top 3 improvements in my writing:

top 2 writing resolutions:

number 1 favourite line:

[skaruresonic]

actually that fic was the only time I attempted to write Eggman in first-person POV outside of the visual novel, that was a lot of fun

---

Unfortunately, my heels hit the wrong key combination. And that's when the screen freezes. All the data I've mined flickers, wavering like a paused video feed.

Before I can make heads or tails of it, another window opens: a command prompt. An ancient one I would never in a hundred years be caught dead using. The words spell themselves out, snowy white on velvet black, one painstaking letter at a time.

I h a ve de s

ig ne d

its mi nd per fect

p u r e

I shoot up in my chair, straight as a rod. The cursor blinks as if to test me. What is this? Someone's idea of a practical joke? To compound my bewilderment, my primary monitor crashes and the damned thing starts to whine an ear-splitting shriek. I clap my hands to my ears to block it out; as bad as Amy's squealing over Sonic.

Neither text nor noise respond to the usual methods of circumvention. I batter the keys in the hopes something, anything, will unstick it and restore my hearing: "No! No, no, no!" My foot crashes into the overheating CPU with a resounding bang. "Don't pull this on me now, you steaming hunk of junk!"

Despite the crash, the words continue their slow onward march. How is this possible? What branch of GUN is messing around with my systems—

Disc. Get it on a disc. I have the feeling the message will erase itself if allowed to run unchecked, so I vandalize my disc drawer and cram a blank into the whirring writer. Hopefully I can use the copy to track this idiot's location and—

"What in the blue blazes is going on here?"

The fragmented message vanishes before my eyes, taking all my precious data with it. Apparently it was the plug in the dam; new messages flood in faster than I can track them, filling my screens with utter nonsense.

Jagged words flash surreal neon warnings: BIOLIZARD ECLIPSE CHAOS ULTIMATE LIFE REDIRECT MEMORY SUBPROGRAM DEBUG CANNON ASTRONOMERS ARE CONCLUDING MONSTROUS BLACKS. Maps unfurl, revealing twisted machinery. Statistics streak past in bits and pieces, most notably a timestamp of twenty-seven minutes and fifty-three seconds—is that how much time GUN has left before I hammer my fist through their IT department? It might as well be. The whine shrills its mocking laughter, slamming my blood through my temples as I pound at the keys in vain.

Then it stops. Stops dead. I wait for the other shoe to drop, my tattered breath scraping the air.

One last window emerges.

"Oh, what now?" I growl, dragging a hand down my mouth. "What is this? What… "

Slowly, I peel myself from my chair to lean in closer.

It's a diary.

My grandfather's. I scour every word, my blood running ice before fire. An attachment arrives, one which opens without my input once I reach the end of the journal. Classified document. A medical record for G. Robotnik.

According to the front page, it was a psych evaluation conducted by GUN officials. Other than a bit of sleep deprivation slowing his psychomotor responses, he seemed to be in tip-top shape.

For a moment I stand frozen, bathing in the glow of my overworked monitors. This is all… very sudden, for lack of a better phrase. Calculated, but I don't believe in that kind of synchronicity. If someone intended to grab my attention, they certainly have it now. As far as I knew, Grandfather passed the year before I was born. Of old age, my father said.

Liar. Later he changed his story and claimed the government had involuntarily committed him toward the end of his life. Naturally, this made a much younger me curious. What for? An accident. Always an accident, no more and no less. He remained tight-lipped on the nature of said accident, much to my supreme irritation, but his evasive silences seemed to imply my grandfather had brought it on himself.

Of course, you never knew what was truth and what was fiction with that blustering fool. He'd tell you one thing today and claim you heard him wrong tomorrow. He was always trying to frighten me with that skeleton shoved in the back of our closet: You don't want to copy Gerald someday, drooling mad, crushed by the weight of your own brilliance, do you? Behave, Ivo, or else you'll wind up just like your looney-bin grandfather, wasting away in some padded cell.

Bah, what did he know? I'm still a free man, my mind sharper than a steel trap. They haven't gotten me yet. And if this record is any proof to the contrary, they hadn't gotten Gerald, either.

Shadow …

I have designed its mind to be perfect, pure. I will leave everything to it.

If you wish to fill the world with destruction… Release, and awaken it.

The screen darkens.

I fold my arms over my chest with a satisfied smirk. Fill the world with destruction, eh? Well, well. Perhaps my self-righteous father was wrong, and the apple of genius doesn't fall so very far from the tree.

I eject the finished disc and wave it once in the air to cool it off, then shove it into my pocket and stride down the corridor toward the weapons room. I'm going to be needing it where I'm headed, and if you ask me? Our little friend Shadow's slept past its alarm.