#but its far from as bad as it was back then and its mostly gone by this point

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[lycanroc-aro]

I've been thinking a bit recently and a few things that came around at the same time that ace discourse was at full swing (at least on my dash) was things like arophobia and also transphobia, but specifically about trans men (transandrophobia?)

my dash was at the time just filled to the brim with people defending asexuality but shitting on aromantics, acting as if we are monsters, but it was also filled with a bunch of hate towards transmascs, especially how we just wanted to escape misogyny by joining the "enemy", how we were traitors.

That was also when I was introduced to asexuality and aromanticism, which had awful effects on me, I started thinking that I must be ace, I wasn't an unfeeling monster after all. Just for me to slowly realise that I was perhaps aro-spec, and then full on aro, it took even longer to realise I wasn't even ace.

But that's not even getting started on the fact that all that shitting on transmascs happened when I was questioning my gender, which I'm very certain is what made me take so long to accept that I'm in fact transmasc, most likely even a trans man. I was so worried that I was actually just thinking that I might be trans just to escape misogyny, that I was a traitor, that I couldn't actually be a feminist if I was part of the enemy.

I still have no clue why ace discourse and a bunch of te/rf and rad/fem stuff just suddenly bombarded my dash, or I mean, I know who put them there (irl friends 💔), but I don't know why they suddenly started reblogging so much about it. I over all think they were still defending trans men (I came out to one of those friends about questioning being trans) but the te/rf and rad/fem rhetoric that was being argued against still affected me and made it harder for me to realise I was actually trans.

Nowadays I'm trying to be out and proud, to combat the insecurities the discourse instilled in me, and its working somewhat

[bmpmp3]

recently i decided to start playing a new mobile rhythm game as i wait for sif2 to come out in english and a day later i nearly chopped off the top 4mm of my index finger by accident (blanket knitting incident). is the universe itself trying to stop me.

[defmaybe]

Party Police

ITZY's Shin Yuna x Male Reader

1.4k words

Sequel to Sticky

A/N: Let’s do a sequel!!! Again, I really love writing Yuna dominant lol, thanks for reading!!! Also, this one doesn't have the "definitely, maybe" line lol.

—

The plane croaks and cries as its wheels touch the runway. It slows down and turns a few times to park. Then, the seatbelt light above is gone.

—

Narita

As far as a company trip goes, this one should give you bragging rights over your friends until death. A spring trip to Tokyo–where every street and building is photogenic. The air is perfect (a bit cold, really, but it’s definitely better than your home).

Of course, it’s a reward from your generous boss, who fought the higher-ups to death for this trip. Your team’s productivity has soared under her reign, as she always brings snacks for your co-workers every single day. And with her bubbly, optimistic attitude, and such a level of competency you don’t dare to compete, they just had to approve this one-week trip at the price of a car.

The secret sessions between you two remain, well, a secret. Though, there has been a running rumor of your boss having a booty call with an employee, but you’re smart enough to play along with the wave, pulling out the ‘yeah, who could that be’ along with a few chuckles.

—

Shibuya, not so far from the crosswalk

The exit of the station has always been so busy, oh, so bustling in its nature. The chill air welcomes you to the afternoon of Shibuya. In front of you is the crosswalk—that goddamn crosswalk. You follow the wave of the people to the landmark, waiting to reach your sanctuary again.

The red stop signal flickers

1 2 3

You stride through the crowd—some holding their phones to capture the moment, some are just trying to reach their destinations as soon as possible.

You walk on the same path that you did years ago, just walking up north to your terminus, and there it is.

You open the glass door, and you feel another breeze from the air conditioners from inside blowing your face. It looks a bit cramped, but it’s definitely well-planned enough for you to see all the new albums. The first floor is mostly decorated with yellow and red–same as the big sign outside.

—

Tower Records

“Hmm, Alvvays, huh?” 

Yuna suddenly appears by your right shoulder, staring at their debut LP you’re holding.

Into your ears, she whispers, “You have a great taste, baby boy.” Her voice is breathy–hints of depth under it.

“You don’t have to leave. You could just stay here with me~” Yuna sings. Her hands are perching on your shoulder as she performs her little swaying with the hips.

“Forget all the party police. We can find comfort in debauchery~.”

With debauchery, her right hand trails down your lithe frame, down the sides, as you’re trying your best to stifle your own moan. The Alvvays disc in your hand is trembling.

“Oh, baby boy, I just wanna eat you right here, among these CDs,”—she continues—“I just wanna have you squirm, one hand holding on Antisocialites, another holding on Blue Rev.”

“M–Miss Shin, what are you s–saying? I d–don’t think it’s appropriate–”

“Shhh, baby boy, it’s not ‘Miss Shin’ here. You know the word, remember?” Yuna giggles at her own words, as you’re sweating at the fear of getting caught inside your own sanctuary. And she doesn’t let your body find its footing so firmly in the section either. She presses you forward, and you step back in response.

A B

“Say it, baby boy. Don’t keep me waiting~,” she teases. She presses you past Carly Rae Jepsen. Emotion runs high on you.

D E F G

“I–I can’t, Miss Shin. This is n–not the place.” You two are on Hatchie; she’s still without a blush. You must be fucking red as a tomato now, judging from how your whole body feels so damn hot.

I J K

Lorde. “Oh, baby boy, I know you wanna say it so, so bad. You just love being under my domination, don’t you?” 

But you can’t just give her a green light that easily, despite how much you just want her to pump your cock right here and now, in Tower Records Shibuya. There’s a matter of shame in play here. Your breaths are out of rhythm, unlike the music out of speaker right now.

M N O

“Ooh, look who it is here,”—Yuna picks up the Brand New Eyes box with both of her hands, pouting—“It’s Paramore! You… are… the only exception~. Am I your exception too?”

Fuck, why is she so irresistible?

Q R S

Taylor Swift appears in your sight on the left, along the steps back. “Y–Yes, M–M–” The thought sprouts in your head now, but you just can’t form the words. You’re, again, enchanted under her spell.

U V

Wolf Alice. “No hard feelings if you can’t say it, baby boy. I’ll just take the subway to Harajuku or somewhere else if that’s what you want, alone, without you~.”

X Y

“Y–Yes.”

“Yes… what, baby boy?”

“Yes, m–m–mommy. Y–You are my exception.” And on Z, you surrender to her.

“Good boy.” Yuna holds your hand, waking up a few butterflies inside you, before guiding you towards….

—

Tower Records’ Bathroom

“Umm, mmph, I’ve been dying to taste this cock for so long, baby boy.” And Yuna supports her point by dragging her filthy tongue along the underside of your length, glistening you with her saliva. And how can you not shudder with that? “I’d say… it’s worth the wait.”

“M–Mommy~,” you groan, eyes fluttering on top of the toilet.

What a sight. Yuna is kneeling on the floor for you in this stall, aiming to please you with her mouth. You can see her cleavage from the above, with her nipples still covered with the black bra. To ramp up the experience, she starts with taking in your whole mushroom tip with no struggle. God, she’s so good.

Her oral expertise continues to astound you, as she twirls her tongue around your tip, gathering any pre-cum leaking out.

“Hmm, I think I should do a bit more before you cum~,” she says, before diving onto the base of your throbbing length with ease.

“F–Fuck! You’re so t–tight, mommy,” you moan, and your hands are holding on to the lid with your dear life, not wanting to fall. Your head is basically leaning on the wall behind you now.

Yuna says nothing, but you can see her smiling on your shaft despite the cheeks being hollowed out to create such otherworldly suction. Fuck. She bobs her head up and down to bring you to the edge. Her gag reflex starts to make her tears welling up, but that doesn’t stop her from pleasuring her favorite employee with her mouth to his hilt.

Every movement of hers is considered, aiming to milk your cock just like she did that time with her right hand, the other grabbing you by your slutty waist—when you were nothing but a toy for her to play with. She hollows her cheeks, as said, to create such otherworldly suction. And that dreamy eye contact while she blows on your hardness, god, who wouldn’t cum within a heartbeat. 

“M–Mommy, I’m gonna cum,” you say, as your hips buck into her with her frenetic movements.

Yuna doesn’t relent her attempts, still gagging profusely on her baby boy’s needy cock. She makes this little whiny sound with every of your thrust, as the end of your digit reaches as far back as it can. Yet, she’s still determined—so fucking determined to please her number one employee. But now, you want just a bit more.

“M–Mommy, y–your tits, p–please.”

She gives in to your plea too easily, but it’s like you’d complain. She quickly discards layers of fabric until her bra is left. And after a few magic tricks of her hands, her last barrier falls off just for you. You savor in the moment of her bare breasts and the stiff nipples under your impending orgasm. Oh, what a sight.

And it’s there, your seed releasing into her throat.

“M–Mommy~,” you whimper.

Your length twitches inside her tight cavern, wanting to squeeze every drop out of you. She doesn’t let any drop leak out of her mouth either, swallowing any residue down to her stomach.

And as you finish, she has to open her mouth and stick out her tongue to show her clean cavern.

“F–Fuck, mommy, w–why, why are you so good?”

“Just for my favorite employee, baby boy.”

—

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

-

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

-

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

-

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

[sleepingdayaway]

just read your majoras mask post and i wish i could hug young link so bad😭 I then thought of what would happen if its LU and reader stumbles upon Time, who hasn't seen them since Majoras Mask. The reunion would either be devastating or really cute since hes old and seeing a parental(ish) figure again😭🩷

UR SO BIG BRAIN ANON. FUCK, I CAN NEVER MAKE HIM HAPPY

making a big strong leader be sad and cry for his parental figure fuels me with so much joy

It's a quiet night for the Chain as they all chatted amongst each other while setting up camp for the night. Wild is preparing a a fire, so he could make plans for dinner with Warriors helping him by going through the recipes that he saved on his slate. Wind, Legend and Hyrule are sitting together and speaking about their homes; Wind mostly talking about how he misses his younger sister and his grandma.

Twilight has left to keep an survey the surrounding area. Separate from the group so he could transform into his wolf form without the others knowing. Sky and Four are besides the cook and captain as they had a soft conversation about Sky's sword during his time in the Knight Academy, and when he was forging the Goddess Blade/Master Sword.

Meanwhile Time is sitting a bit farther away; not too far that he couldn't hear them but he's able to have his own space. He’s been feeling heavy these days as it takes a mental toll on him. Attempting to be the voice of reason isn’t easy even though he is in a body that now matches his mind.

Time doesn’t understand the heaviness that he has been feeling as their journey continues; the years long exhaustion seeping into his bones as he watches the rest interact with each other. A small nagging in his skull refuses to allow him a moment of relief. Urging him to get up and not stay idle which causes the older man to let out a sigh.

Which turned out to be a good idea when two sets of footsteps could be heard approaching the camp. Time turned to look at where the noise was approaching which in turned caused the rest of the hero’s to tense up slightly.

If old man Time notices something first, the others will follow suit. Instead of the noise of monsters which most of them can recognize; it was instead the voice of Twilight with a familiar one in tow. Everyone relaxed when they realized it was the Rancher, but were curious on who was he bringing. It was unusual for him to bring a civilian into their camp.

Except as soon as they were in view it made sense. The civilian was roughed up and had scratches and scrapes all over their body as if they had been running away from something. Although they acted as if they were fine, smiling and making exaggerated gestures for Twilight. A slight distraction one as would a parent would to distract a child from something

It seemed to work as Twilight was fully engaged in conversation and only broke out of it when Hyrule reacted first and approached them. They smile at Hyrule and began introducing themselves as the boy checks up on the civilian, upon seeing the injuries on them.

That voice. Time’s ear gave a slight twitch upon hearing them speak, as a sudden coldness enveloped his body. He knows that voice. Holy shit, Time fucking recognized who is speaking to Hyrule and Twilight.

Time needs to step away; as he felt his own body began to tremble at the memories of his past adventures with them. He can’t show weakness in front of the others. If he starts acting up then everyone will become suspicious of them even though they have done no wrong.

Quickly he gets up before approaching Warriors and muttered some excuse about him needing to take a walk. Warriors, who understands that Time had a lot on his plate recently, agreed and reassured that he and Twilight will keep watch over everyone.

In an instant, Time is walking away from the group as he felt someone’s gaze on his back.

The sun is gone by the time he returns to the camp.

Time curses himself for leaving for so long. He wasn’t supposed to be gone for a long time; he merely needed time to recollect his thoughts and get his act together before approaching them again.

The scarred man lets out as sigh once he catches sight of the campfire. His body slowly begins to relax once he spots the rolled out bedrolls that are occupied by the rest of the group.

As he nears closer he counts the ones who a sleeping, noticing that the only one that isn’t asleep is Wild. Said man is by the fire and already staring at the older hero and quietly goes up to him, “Time, you’re back.” He states softly, trying not the wake the others from their sleep.

Time nods and scans the younger man for anything that could be bothering him, “Yes, sorry for being gone until nightfall, it wasn’t my intention I just-“

“Needed to clear your head?” Wild interrupts with a small smile of understanding. In which Time lets out a small sigh before humming in agreement.

“Is everything alright? How was….the civilian that the Ranch hand brought?” He asked.

As if barely remembering about them Wild slightly shuffled on his feet, “They’re fine! It’s just that……”

The Hero of Time raises a brow at him, “Did something happened while I was gone?” He questioned as he placed his hands on his hips.

“No! Nothing bad happened it’s just, they were determined to repay us by keeping watch and letting us all rest,” Wild responds before turning away and looks behind him; Time follows his gaze. Sitting away from them on a log near the edge of camp is them; staring out into the woods and appears to be keeping watch as Wild says.

”Huh….. I would’ve assumed that one of you would be weary of letting a stranger be in charge of your safety.” Wild lets out a slight wince at his words, and a hand comes up behind his neck as he remembers what happened a few hours prior.

“You’re not wrong, in fact the Veteran was the first one to express his distaste at the idea who was then backed up by Wars.”

Wild explains how after the two voiced their opinions and how they’re greatful at the thought, but they didn’t trust them. The civilian nodded in understanding before they began interacting with the rest. Somehow as the sun was begun to set and everyone ate their meals; did they all began to grow tired as their journey from today hit them unusually hard.

Warriors pulled Wild to the side and explained how Time was still out there and how they might need to go search from him, but that was when the Civilian spoke up. Saying how they’re sure that he’ll arrive soon and to soothe their worries they’ll stay up to wait for his return.

Reluctantly, Warriors agreed as his exhaustion doubled before crawling into his bedroll and promptly passing out. Leaving Wild and them awake as Wild fights off sleep; keeping them company as they waited for Time to return.

“I know it’s ridiculous for a group of hero’s to lower their guard to someone unfamiliar, but for some reason…. I feel as if……”

“As if you know them from somewhere?” Said Time gently, now understanding where he was coming from. Wild nodded as he looked down, finally realizing how tired he was.

Time put his hands on Wild’s shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze, “I’m here now, go rest.” He says softly with a slight tone of appreciation, “Thank you, for waiting Wild.”

The young man nodded before walking limply to his own bedroll and collapsing as well.

He watched Wild fall asleep completely as an attempt to delay the inevitable, but Time knew it was futile and he knew that they would still be waiting. After a few moments passed did he begin to walk over to the edge of camp where they sat.

He sat down next to them without thinking twice, but didn’t look at their face. He had a feeling that string holding himself together would snap if he looked at them.

But it would be broken anyway since they made the first move.

“I’m sorry for leaving without goodbye.”

Time tenses before dropping his face into his hands, letting out a silent sob, in an attempt to hide himself from view.

A gentle hand lands in his hair as it begins to comb through it, and once more he’s pulled back into his memories during his journey through Termina. Of the same hand running through his hair in the aftermath of a battle that took a toll on him.

Losing all strength that is holding himself together; Time collapses on himself and curls up to them. Losing all rationality and just wants to be held by them again as he clings on their clothes.

“It’s okay, I’m here now Link.”

Their voice calls out to Time as their other arm wraps around his back to hold him closer. As he cries to himself as the memories of Termina returns full force, the amount of times he failed the people of the town. The moments where he messed up and had to start over again-

He failed to save that girl’s father.

He failed to reunite Kafei and Anju.

He failed to protect Romani from those monsters.

He failed-

Humming interrupts his train of thought as he opens his eyes in shock. The feeling of a hand rubbing his back and another in his hair brings him back to them, as he leans his head on their chest.

Relaxing into their hold as he listens to their heartbeat and to their humming of a familiar song.

Finally.

Someone else sings for his sorrows to heal.

[ninii-winchester]

Deepest Desire

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 2k

Warnings : angst, heartbreak, feelings of betrayal, alcohol, strong language, spoilers. Unedited.

A/n : This is a Supernatural x Lucifer crossover fic. I’ve only ever watched a few episodes of Lucifer. This is a work of fiction, I don’t own Supernatural or Lucifer. They belong to CW and Netlfix respectively.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Another day, another hunt. But it was nothing crazy. With Chuck being gone things are as normal as they could be. Y/n's friend had called in for help and she was happy to go. On her way back to the Bunker, her car stopped abruptly and wouldn't start. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel before calling Dean, filling him in on the situation.

"If only you'd let me take baby I would've been home by now." She groaned over the phone and she heard him laugh on the other side.

"My bad, sweetheart. You can take it next time." He chuckled before he added, "I'll be in an hour tops okay? Get some place safe."

"Yeah I see a bar its uh.. 'the tipsy tavern' I'll be there."

She hung up the phone and made her way towards the bar. It wasn't too far from where her car stopped, just a walking distance. She went inside and it was, well, typically how a bar is. She scanned the place thoroughly, her eyes landing on a woman with blond hair. She seemed troubled. She kept looking over her shoulder, continuously fidgeting with her hands.

Y/n walked up to her and slid in the stool beside her. The woman slightly jumped at the action and it didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Hey are you okay?" Y/n asked her, the woman eyed her cautiously before nodding.

"I'm fine." She replied curtly.

"Are you sure? You seem distressed." Y/n pressed hoping she could help somehow. The woman sighed, looking at her.

"You’d think I’m crazy."

"Try me." Y/n said mentally scoffing, what could this woman tell her that would be more unbelievable than what she deals with on a daily basis.

"I'm not from here."

"So you're a foreigner, are you lost?" Y/n questioned.

"No you don't understand." The woman seemed frustrated. "My name is Chloe Decker, I'm a detective." She said and Y/n nodded, urging her to continue. "I'm from LA. But this isn't my world." Chloe didn't know what it was about the woman infront of her that made her want to trust her.

"Your world?" Before Chloe could answer a man in a black suit takes a seat on the side side of Chloe.

"Well hello there. Made a new friend, did we detective?" The man spoke in a British accent.

"This is uh.." Chloe trailed off not knowing her name so Y/n quickly told her name. "This is Y/n." The man opened his mouth to say something but Y/n interrupted him.

"What do you mean this isn't your world?" She questioned.

"Well you see darlin' we were on a case, an then an explosion went off and we were here. I can feel the change in the cosmic energy around us." The man spoke.

"How do you feel the cosmic energies?" Y/n questioned the man.

"My bad lady, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Lucifer Morningstar." He said with a smooth voice.

"You're Lucifer? Like the devil Lucifer?" She questioned.

"Yes." He replied. "The devil Lucifer."

"That can't be." She said mostly to herself.

"I know it sounds implausible but-"

"You're dead. We killed you this isn't possible. You're not Lucifer. You can't be." She whisper yelled at the man who claimed to be Lucifer.

Chloe looked back and forth between Lucifer, the smirk on his face was long gone and it was morphed into a serious expression,

"Can we rewind back to when she said we killed you'." He said looking at Chloe who seemed even more troubled. "Who even are you?"

"God, this day couldn't get any worse." Y/n sighed. The trio had now shifted to a table for four. Chloe sat beside Lucifer and Y/n infront of him. She had foregone the glass and was now directly drinking from the bottle of whiskey. She needed as much as alcohol she could to process this.

"So, you're telling me, you hunt monsters and Lucifer of this universe was locked in a cage in Hell and then your..boyfriend's brother let him out and he wreaked havoc so you pushed him back inside and later killed him when he came back?" Chloe asked tasting the words on her mouth because it sounds absurd when said out loud.

"I know it sounds weird when you put it like that but yeah." Y/n said with humorless chuckle. "You weren't locked?" She asked Lucifer.

"No, Father just kicked me out from Heaven, I ruled Hell for a while but then I got bored so I came to Earth and I'm detective's partner now."

"Wow, so you're not a dick like he was. Our universe's Lucifer should've learned a thing or two from you." She scoffed. "Anyways, so if you have your mojo you can't teleport yourself back to your universe?"

"Mojo?" Chloe questioned.

"His powers." Y/n clarified and the former nodded.

"You I haven't actually tried if they're working." Lucifer admitted.

"Bit slow, aren't you?" Y/n sassed Chloe snorted, she found it amusing, this woman is sassing the devil himself.

"You seem so unbothered it's like it's just another Tuesday for you." Chloe commented and Y/n muttered a small 'tell me about it'. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she answered call the call. It was Dean.

"Hey I'm almost here. I saw your car and I'm heading to the bar now." He said.

"Alright cool. See you soon." She said hanging up. She looked at the couple infront of her. "Dean's here, I'll ask him if we can help you somehow."

"Thank you so much, Y/n." Chloe said gratefully smiling at her. The former nodded and mumbled a quick, 'I'll be back' before leaving the bar.

She waited a few minutes before she saw the black Impala pulling up. She watched her boyfriend get out the car and she made her way towards him.

"Hey gorgeous." He cupped her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss. "I could've come get you inside. You didn't have to wait outside." He said against her lips. She pulled away and bit her lip. Dean groaned as he recognised her expression.

~~~

"So you're telling me this Lucifer is British." Dean said looking at his girlfriend incredulously. The two of them had went inside and Y/n took her previous seat while Dean took one beside her.

"That's all you gathered from what I've told you?" Y/n asked her boyfriend and he shurgged. "Anyways, they need our help and i think we should help him."

"Really? You want to help the dick that possessed Sam and almost killed all of us twice?" Dean snapped. Lucifer seemed offended but he didn't comment.

"De, he's not him. That asshole is dead." Y/n added. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, his gaze scrutinising Lucifer. He then looked at Chloe who seemed helpless and then at his girlfriend who was sporting a pout.

"Fine." Dean sighed. "We'll help, but that doesn't mean I trust you." He warned the devil who raised his hands in surrender.

"Lucifer why don't you see if your mojo works in this universe as well?" Y/n suggested. Lucifer closed his eyes doing God knows what.

"Woah woah stop." Dean said to Lucifer, then turned to Y/n, "What if he's as juiced up as the one we encountered and blows up the place?"

"You're right, I guess." Chloe chimed in and turned to her partner, "why don't you do the thing?" She said to him and he smirked, it's clearly something he loves doing.

"The thing?" Y/n questioned.

"It's nothing harmful. I promise." Chloe replied.

"Y/n dear." Lucifer calls her and she looks at him, he leans a bit towards her making Dean's protective side take over.

"Hey back off." Dean growled but Chloe put a hand over his arm.

"Its okay." She reassured him.

"Tell me Y/n, what is it that you truly desire?" Lucifer asked but his smirk dropped.

"Am I supposed to feel anything or should I just tell you?" She questions.

"This usually works." Lucifer says. "I think I don't have my powers here."

"What were you even trying to do?" Dean questions.

"He can read into people's heart, find their deepest darkest desires." Chloe answers. "Things that you never tell anyone."

"Well maybe it didn't work because I don't have a secret desire." Y/n commented making Lucifer and Chloe look at her in disbelief.

"Everyone has something they desire." He retorted. "Things they never tell anyone."

"I agree but mine isn't hidden or a big secret, for me its Dean." She shrugged. "My deepest desire is to have a normal life with him a house, family, kids, the whole nine yards." She spoke as if it wasn't a big deal and Dean swore he felt himself fall for her all over again. He pecked her temple and Chloe gushed at them.

"Interesting." Lucifer commented.

"If you can feel the cosmic energy around here I'm sure you have your powers. Why don't you try it on Dean?" Y/n suggested.

"I think she's right." Chloe added.

Lucifer faced Dean and the latter shifted a bit under his observing gaze. "Tell me Dean, what is it that you truly desire?" He questioned the Winchester and Y/n watched in anticipation awaiting his answer. A few seconds passed before he answered and nothing could've prepared her for Dean's answer.

"Amara." That one was enough for Y/n's world to come crashing down on her. She felt herself tear up but she cleared her throat before speaking.

"Well at least your still have your powers." Chloe could hear the heartbreak in her voice and gave her a sympathetic look. Lucifer, who found this situation amusing, asked,

"Who's Amara?" Dean sucked in a sharp breath, glaring at the man in front of him, who just smirked in return. What could you expect from him, he's the Devil after all.

"Your Aunt." Y/n snapped unintentionally.

"Why, must you be this childish?" He asked, feeling offended.

"No literally. Amara is God's sister, the darkness. She was here a while back before we locked her up." Y/n explained her voice void of any emotion.

"I've never heard of her. She didn't exist in my universe." Lucifer replied. He pinched the bridge of his nose before adding, "one thing I've realised you lot's universe is way fucked than ours."

"I'll call Sam and ask if we know a way to open a portal to another universe. Excuse me." Y/n said getting up from her chair and walking out the bar. Dean immediately trailing behind her.

"Baby, Y/n." He called out for her but she didn't stop. She let tears fall free now that she wasn't in front of a crowd. "Sweetheart listen to me." He caught up with and turned her to look at him. He hated seeing her cry and hated it even more when he was the reason for her tears. "I can explain, please just..-"

"What's there to explain, Dean?" She cried. She harshly wipes her tears. "Do you want to add salt to wound, tell me it's pitiful that you don't want me as much as I want you?" She let out a sarcastic laugh. "You know what I realised?" She asked rhetorically. "It's always something before me, your car, Sam, Amara, hunting. I'm probably the last thing you need in your life." The moment she said that Dean felt like someone had shot him in the heart.

"No baby, don't say that." Dean begged holding her close. "It's not true. I want you more than anything in this entire world." She scoffed before pulling away from him.

"I need to call Sam. Even if he's been harmless until now, we don't need another Lucifer prancing around our world." She put some distance between them before calling Sam.

"Harmless, my ass." Dean muttered as he kicked the dirt on the road.

He needed to make this right, he wouldn't be able to live if he ever lost her and he needs her to know that. He has to make it right and he will be damned if he didn't.

Part 2

[animentality]

Dude I'm so confused

Why are the redditors refugees here-

Whats up with the tag 196

AND WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE WITH THE TWITTER REFUGEES CAME WE GAVE THEM HELL (almost)

The Reddit refugees are here because several subreddits have gone private in protest of reddit's new policy of charging third party developers for access to its API.

Hence the term reddit blackout.

196 specifically was a very queer friendly subreddit that had one rule: that you post before you leave. 196 is trending because those Redditors have come here and they're basically sharing their memery here instead as they protest reddit's greed.

As for why we're welcoming them when Twitter refugees were seen with a little more irritation, well.

Think of the culture similarities.

Tumblr and reddit have far more in common than Tumblr and Twitter.

Twitter is about clout and manipulating algorithms and discourse in 280 characters or less. It's about bad takes that reach the right people and it forces you to see things you don't want to see and it's crawling with the worst people imaginable and you're forced to see them, all the time. They also brought bad tagging and 2016 Tumblr discourse with them, because Twitter culture really involves starting fights for clout and braindead opinions that no one really wants to come back to Tumblr culture.

There was a time when Tumblr did the same thing, but worse, with more words...but nowadays, it's really calmed down.

The worst people...went to Twitter after the porn ban. Ironically, it made the site less toxic and hostile.

But then they came back.

And it was like...hm. no thanks. Stay back where you came from.

But Tumblr and Reddit have much more in common.

Both have a more streamlined way of customizing your online feed. You can choose what subreddits you see on your home screen, just like Tumblr only shows you the content of your followers, on your dashboard, and in chronological order rather than what's trending. You can join a very specific weird niche group of freaks with a shared obsession, and not care about the rest of the site at all. You also don't have a character limit on either site, which lets you ramble more and share weird detailed stories.

Reddit might have karma, but like Tumblr, the majority of people are lurkers and not posters. It also allows you to downvote bad opinions, and moderators who have to adhere to certain guidelines of behavior, which means a lot of banning disruptive people.

Granted, sometimes their mods are power hungry, but. You know.

It does more to control its users than Tumblr do, and that's a good thing in terms of keeping toxicity and illegal shit off its subs.

Reddit also has a way more leftwing attitude than you would think.

It has a reputation for being full of incels but I honestly think that's outdated.

It's cleaned up its act quite a bit since the old days.

I see way more vile shit from Twitter and TikTok. Like seriously.

Twitter is crawling with conservative bots and propaganda machines and just outright inflammatory lies. TikTok literally has the worst comment sections I've ever seen, like edgy teenagers cracking racist and misogynistic humor and acting like it makes them different and special. Its algorithm also spoon feeds you garbage and is designed to be as addicting as possible.

At least reddit's culture, while chauvinistic and regressive in certain subcultures, is mostly on the tech positive, atheist libertarian side.

It can be a little pretentious and caustic about certain subjects, and a little full of itself. Some reddits are also very male leaning and disregard female concerns in favor of moaning about how men have it worse than anyone else on earth.

But for the most part?

...well.

I welcome them here, because if they left reddit in protest, then we always support protests. But 196 specifically is also a queer subreddit, and we support that even more.

Plus they're funny as fuck.

What's not to like, really?

You should welcome them with open arms too.

[revelboo]

Bad Idea

TFP Soundwave x reader- encounter in the woods

• There are times when you just need to get away. Reset your frame of mind. Those are hiking days. Nothing helps get your mind off work better than getting as far from other humans as possible and the woods are quiet.

• Mostly. You hear the noise first- a staticky, humming whine that sets your teeth on edge and sends a flush of goosebumps up your arms. It’s almost like the hum of a speaker left on without any music and you can feel it in your bones as an uncomfortable thrum. Caution never was your strong suit. Curiosity, though?

• Everything had gone sideways. Another recon ruined by that wrecker, leaving Soundwave to limp away and nurse his wounds. Blank visor tipping up, he watches Lazerbeak circling. Can feel the thread of worry from the drone as it keeps a lookout in case Wheeljack was following. He doubts the Autobot would bother. As raw as he feels, the wrecker had been worse. Much worse.

• He can feel energon bleeding down his side to get into joints and he catalogs the injuries one by one. It’s only willpower keeping him moving. That and the very real threat of being captured by the enemy. Stopping to let his subroutines deal with the damage isn’t an option. Too bad he doesn’t have any say in it as his legs buckle.

• You left the trail behind, picking your way through the trees toward where the noise had come from. Probably. As often as you go hiking, you’re definitely directionally challenged. You still manage to stumble on the source of the sound. Literally. You trip over a huge metal… thing. As you stagger forward and catch yourself on the rest of it, the sharp edge under your palm bites into it and you yank it back with a hiss.

• It’s big, but you have no idea what it is you’re looking at, all sharp edges and mystery. Kind of person shaped, though. Someone’s metal yard art/sculpture they’d chucked? Pulling your backpack around, you dig you a bandana and tie up your bleeding palm, eye catching on the blank, black screen on what seemed to be the thing’s head. A robot sculpture. A pointy, weird robot sculpture.

• You crouch down to study that empty screen, giving in to the urge to touch. Really, you were expecting cold plastic or glass, not for it to be warm and faintly humming under your light touch.

• Just like you don’t expect the big, metal nightmare bird thing that dive bombs you. Falling over again as you backpedal, you scream as the thing tries it’s best to gouge your eyes out. Then the robot sculpture is moving, one long arm tucking you close as your screams peter out into terrified silence, because no part of this is normal or okay. Horrible death bird-drone lights on the pointy monster’s thigh and just stares at you.

• Trying to wiggle free just tightens the arm draped over you until breathing becomes iffy and you collapse in the dry leaves and pine needles. Your escape attempts only exhaust you and aggravate the demon bird, its pointy head tilting to glare at you with a look that even with its featureless face promises a slow, agonizing death. So you give up and just lay there, playing teddy bear for the giant pointy monster and questioning your life choices.

Next

[squiddy-god]

If you ever write manhandling hcs or even a couple thoughts for Wuwa Geshulin or Jiyan.. I would be so grateful 🥺🙏💕

The way I stopped playing genshin when i saw this and started writing immediately because im lowkey obsessed with genshu lin like,,,his dark circles and bad personality have captivated me. I'm also very very obsessed with calcharo because he is the reason i started playing this game, but jiyan,,,augh genuinely wuwa needs to stop making men that are just so,,,so good,,, this assumes that genshu lin is like still living (i haven't gotten that far in the story) ♥︎REQUEST OPEN♥︎

Cw : manhandling obviously, possessiveness, jealousy, war mention, brief mention of canon typical violence, inappropriate touching of tacet mark, inappropriate use of electro,dry humping, overstim (genshu lin), prone bone, dare i say…jiyan Diphallia teehee, dragon rut (sue me) gn reader, all genders and sexes welcome reader is not specified to be rover, always implied chubby reader

Genshu lin 

Augh him-

Ok so i think that when he manhandles you it is totally on purpose

Genshu lin is very strong physically, as expected of a former general,, but he has the world's meanest manhandling streak in him

Honestly there aren't a lot of times he's not manhandling you 

I feel that there is a sort of deep seeded inferiority complex and a lot of that stems from his failure as former general and rivalry with jiyan, this however tends to bleed into other areas, causing there to be a harsh spike in jealousy for a man who is already on the jealous side 

What really gets him going is when someone shamelessly hits on you, not an often occurrence but it happens mostly on the off chance he isn't breathing down your neck 

Watching the other person flirt to their best attempt flares a possessiveness inside of genshu lin that has one of his hands gripping your hip as he quite literally drags you away 

The force makes you stumble and you realize that his previous good mood is gone

He isn't mad at you, assuming that you shut the other person down pretty immediately 

He loves to overstimulate you, hand on your sternum using his strength to keep you pinned down while he toys with you, constantly reminding you that he knows you can take it, take more, take as much as he gives until you are a shaking mess in his arms

And inevitably you are a shaking mess, chest heaving as the pressure from his palm finally lets up and admires his work, only for the real fun to begin- flipping your body onto your stomach and gripping the back of your thighs to squish them roughly in appreciation, admiring the soft plush feel in his rough hands, calloused from hardship 

Ounces he's had his fill of your thighs one hands presses roughly at the base of your spine traveling up the curve of your arched back until he can grip your jaw and turn you just enough to look at him

Its like genshu lin was made for manhandling because he seem to naturally be more on the rough side, from the way his scared lips press against you to roughly suck hickeys, to the way his hands grope and twist you, hold you against him, pin you down, you'd think it was a sparring match if it wasn't for the delicious press of his hard cock against you 

And for him to know that you like it? that you enjoy the rough way he handles you? Honestly it makes him worse, teasing you about how you cant be whining that its “too much” already, because he knows that you like it when he punctuates his words with more harsh thrust, another tug, another squelch- 

Jiyan 

Oh this sweet man 

When jiyan man handles you it's unintentional and he feels quite bad after 

Even when you tell him that you like when he just manhandles you, he's hesitant. He likes to be gentle, to spare you the harshness of war and death, regardless of your background it's a habit of his to feel the need to shoulder these burdens 

Like i said he doesn't mean to manhandle you- but the comfort of your presence, your embrace, combined with the long periods of time spend on the front lines means he often forgets his strength- eyes snapping to attention when he hears the noise you let out as he pulls you into him- because there is a force behind it, his hands grip you tight and he pulls you

He's honestly such husband material 

He has a habit of almost trapping you against him, be it against counters or simply keeping you pinned in his embrace, jiyan becomes rather touch starved during his time away and tries to soak in as much touch as he can 

He really doesn't realize in the moment how rough he gets, the way he sucks at your neck as he uses his body to pin yours against the wall of his (rarely used) home

Its an effortless move, his knee nudging your legs apart just enough so that he can gather you in his arms to press you further against the wall 

Its times like this that he seems to show off his strength 

The way his every movement doesn't even seem to faze him because to him you truly feel so pliant in his hands, a ragdoll as he slings one of your legs over his hip and allows his hands to hold you as much as he wants 

When he sees the light bruising his fingers left from the grip on your stomach a wave of shame floods him at the realization that he may have gotten slightly carried away pounding into you 

But fret not for there are times the general decides to indulge both you and himself, after much reassurance that you can handle it, that it will be fine he decides to give in and handle you roughly, a look of tender concern still lingers in his eyes but he also cant deny that being able to grope and grab at your soft body flares his instincts and makes him incredibly hard. 

His rut is hard, being so pent up and all but refusing to take leave means he end up become more irritable and aggressive, and when he is finally forced to take leave he loses himself the second you tell him he dosnt have to be gentle with you

Two dicks two dicks two dicks two dic- 

Ok but seriously the first time you had sex with him was,,,something, because imagine if you will, your peacefully making out with him, hes hard as a rock because physical touch is not his forte (hahah im so funny) and when you glance down you gulp because daymn…a warning would be nice there general

Your slightly relieved when he begins to tug down his pants, his first cock springing free- dont get me wrong you were still mourning the loss of your ability to walk but, this was manageable. 

Your jaw absolutely drops when he pushes his pants down further and the second cock springs free- oh …oh no ;) 

Calcharo 

Oh i need him, i need him desperate and panting like a dog tbh

Calcharo is another that forgets his own strength, job after job leaving him not only grumpy but also forgetting that he's strong- strong enough to pull you into his embrace and here the little wheeze you let out

Strong enough to grab and squish your cheeks in his calloused hands while he grinds his hips against you 

He hasn't even taken his clothes off, he’s nasty and sweaty but he's just so desperate to get any part of you

Prying that out of his mouth is impossible tho, he is huffing and panting in your ear before squishing your face for another rough kiss

One thing leads to another and he finally cant take just humping himself against you…grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart while you whine that he should shower first-or that he needs to slow down he's instead nipping at your neck and pushing you further into whatever surface he has you against

He usually isn't so desperate but he's grown used to your touch, used to you, so after being away longer than unusual on a job he is down right ravenous for whatever he can get. 

That isn't to say he doesn't manhandle you at other times, he is rough by nature so its quite often that he finds himself pulling or moving you in a way that could be considered manhandling, but it is just worse when you catch him in a mood where he feels desperate

Getting him to admit that he feels this way is just about impossible but you can tell with the way he kisses you, the way he buries his head in the crook of your neck, the way his hands roam and cant seem to get enough of you 

His brows are knit together in the same aggravated way they always seem to be, but his lips are parted and the way he 

Please i need him so bad 

[simplyreveries]

Dorm Leaders watching their S/O beat up someone that shit talked them. And they do it without a scratch and walk off to them like nothing happened, and the only reason why they noticed was because of some blood on their uniforms

riddle rosehearts

the look on his FACE when he sees you straight up sucker punch someone for calling him names, most likely some student in his dorm telling him off frustrated and badmouthing riddle to their friends. he was speechless??? like??? he quickly regains his composure and manages to have you and the other (more so you) back off before anything more happens and it escalates. he may even temporarily use his magic on you two as a swift warning.

riddle will remove it once the student is gone and scold you for doing and resorting to such violence… though yes it was good that you had, good intentions with him and mind he’ll huff and tell you that is not how to do it! he’ll end up rambling in a flustered moment after having that happen and because out of defense? he's never felt that before or had someone to do that for him really.

he’ll ask and wonder if aces stubborn and fighting tendencies are rubbing off on you, he’d know as he GOT hit by him before. he’ll exclaim and be like “I told you, dear, they're a bad influence on you tsk..!” hehehe. he makes an effort to keep you strayed and quickly moved away if some situation like this occurs, especially after knowing just how far you are willing to go for him… after he’s gone on long enough to you about how that wasn't a good idea, you swore you could've seen a hint of a smile on him.

leona kingscholar

leona is used to hearing some sort of snarky hushed comments about him from other students, thinking he doesn't have such a keen sense of hearing, at times. he really could care less and mostly likely will not be caught thinking about it even later on. there were times where maybe yes, they would sting him slightly but that was when he was younger and, in the castle, hear comments regarding him and his place beside his brother. once again, he has gotten used to these kinds of things and finds it rather pointless to dwell on. he doesn't want to pity himself.

but… you are kind of the opposite when to him and he actually is genuinely shocked for once when he sees you getting personal and physical with some random octavinelle student that made some snide comment about him. leona had always known that you had an overprotective and forward flare to you— hell he loved that about you, but he actually was not expecting that one bit.

he will grab your arm and stop you from going any further from terrorizing this poor student, he’ll grumble what “an idiot” you are for getting yourself into such a mess, for a mere comment towards him. he’ll have some smirk on his face, he doesn't seem to be taking this seriously one bit.

azul ashengrotto

like leona he has had to learn to “toughen up” and learn to ignore them (though he does most likely take them to heart at times) he holds his front and persona ever the same remaining unbothered and frankly ignorant. he is quite used to others talking poorly especially as his reputation is poor among various students haha. but he doesn't seem to care, he is quite happy to see his business grow actually.

azul seems a little taken off-guard when you start a whole fight with not one but a group of students??? l mean, most violence he is used to is from the twins to some student who’s defiant to fulfill or deal with the effects of their deal. when he is past the initial surprise, he stops you and tells you to only ignore them, azul will claim its foolish to engage. he tries to keep a fake “oh terribly sorry about that...” to the students to make sure they won't do anything. if something were to happen though because you decided to pick a fight out of his defense, he could always send someone like floyd, not you!

not going to lie though, moving away he did feel a sense of pride knowing that you're someone that's so willing to go such lengths for him, not to mention, he's impressed. you’ll still find him going on and telling you that you shouldn't be doing that, it could lead you into some larger mess with other troublesome students. but he’ll chuckle and tell you he finds it endearing.

kalim al-asim

kalim is pretty liked for the most part by other students and his dorm, minus the whole fiasco that happened during his chapter. he is just the kind of person that wants to be able to get everyone's approval and he’ll stubbornly keep being persistent. however, in a school like nrc where they're so many people the opposite he is bound to get annoyed, mean comment from someone. SO, when you decide to take that extra personally, he is so??!! he is not one for violence like ever...

after he sees how willing you are to defend him by literally fighting the student, he absolutely will quickly get in between you two and stop the situation before it even begins to escalate, trying to make light of it all with a nervous smile and laugh, he doesn't want to see you or the other person fighting!

he'll look over you all worried, he doesn't want you or anyone to be hurt, especially on his own behalf. he just has this shocked and bewildered expression as he does so, like he is flattered and thinks it's nice that you care for him but not so aggressively! haha.

vil schoenheit

this man is a celebrity…. words do not affect him. he is really used to comments online but also around him during his school life, though he is surprised there are some so bold to be expressive about their thoughts of someone like him. he doesn't think much of them, at most shooting them some glare or even an unamused look from him. if he’s particularly stressed or upset about something beforehand he won't hesitate to throw his own comment as well.

he is shocked but carefully removes you before things get any sorts of serious after you decide to start that. the last thing he would want is for you to be hurt in some sort of silly reason, as he doesn't seem to care about what others think of him. if anything, vil would only be more concerned about you than that unpleasant student. he does know quite the temper and stubbornness you can get; he’ll move you by the arms away if he has to.

vil would look like he is frustrated but his face is just painted with concern for you— he’ll stubbornly bring you to his room and make you sit down in front of his vanity, leaving the student way being (frankly surprised that you decided to sucker punch them for talking ill of vil). vil will carefully tend to your hands, shaking his head. he’ll kiss your knuckles when he’s done, get your uniform cleaned and warn you not to do something like that again!

idia shroud

if idias feeling mean back (most of the time) he’ll probably just do something scummy to the person online and call it a day. but at the end of the day, he avoids people like the plague, so this happening is rare— he isn't exactly the most confrontational person either, unlike you who willingly get into the student's face getting slightly physical about to jump in and defend your boyfriend. that is until the student runs off.

he freezes and pauses for a moment, really unable to stop staring at you as the whole situation unfolding in front really trying to register what you just did. then he would give off his weird little snicker and giggle, after witnessing the whole thing, he finds it amusing that you're able to do that to some student, knowing you're a human— the magicless one yet you're able to do something like that for him??

honestly, he loves it, you've opened his eyes and made him realize that he is definitely attracted to that lmao. yet he groans when you go on and still fired up about the student, he’ll tell you it's too much of a trouble to do these kinds of things.

malleus draconia

he is quite used to hushed whispers and looks from passing students, though it is discouraging because he doesn't want that from others— there's another part of malleus if he's upset or feelings particularly spiteful for it… he could get really intimidating himself, no doubt about it, if he really wanted to. he never does anything too bad, but he sometimes messes with others if he is in the mood. at the end of the day though, he is used to sebek quickly charging up ready to defend his honor at any moment of the day and telling him calmly to let them be.

nevertheless, he is genuinely surprised when you suddenly are willing to fight people literally for him. he finds it entertaining at first but then when he realizes you're being serious and get tough with a particular student he's like OH. with the quick move his hand, he’ll quickly move you and pull you away with some magic and prevent you or the student form doing anything else.

he’ll have some amused look on his face, as he remembers the face on the student when you were about to swing at him. as he lightheartedly scolds you for being so rough and doing something that could end with you getting hurt.

[notartisticdraw]

wait, if ur not blodthegreatrouge, how come u do pjs daycare stuff when it also had a lot of the controversy on it?

A few reasons, but I can promise you, I am 100% not rouge lmao. I think she's in her early 30s, where I'm currently 19. If you trace my blog through my archive, you can see when I joined years after her initial popularity and how godawful my art was in attempting to replicate her style (since I was even heavily influenced as a child). It's also uncomfortable seeing how much of a pro-rouge advocate I was, but I was 12/13 when I joined Tumblr and began drawing Undertale fanart. This was also far before everyone started calling her out in 2021, when I had mostly forgotten about what happened in her AUs

As a child, I was obsessed with the AU and the characters. They made up an important part of my preteen years, as did several other major Undertale comics (Geno's Christmas Party, Handplates, Aftertale, etc.) despite all of the weird/uncomfortable plots rouge shoved into it. I just knew the majority of it made me happy, y'know?

Anyway, my continuation AU of PJ's Daycare (PJ's Daycare 10 Years Later) does not promote the original material but rather tweaks and continues the story in a way I presume most original fans want it depicted---meaning back to its roots of what it is: a Daycare attended by several of the most popular Sanses as children, and popular shipchildren raising them

I wanted to bring back the old whimsical feeling into it and mold the original material into something better and newer. This includes shifting several parts of the original story like, idk, not having kinder!Fresh's love interest be an actual adult, reworking (or entirely removing) the awful Geno suicide depiction, booting proships out of the AU, reworking the love triangle between Palette, Goth, and Cray since they're all 12 - 13, and a lot of interactions made me really uncomfortable (almost sexual undertones AND THEY'RE CHILDREN), etc.

I get many comments on posts describing it as the fandom reclaiming the media from a bad person and fixing it up, and honestly, this is the only AU I could attempt to fix from Rouge. All her other AUs are far too gone, whereas PJ's Daycare had mistakes but was nowhere near as insane as her other stuff (NaJ, for instance)

Again, my content does not promote Rouge or anything she's done. She's awful and shouldn't be allowed online after the mess she's caused and doesn't care cleaning up. I'm just fixing a childhood favorite comic for myself and the community

urgggg sorry for rambling. its like 7:30 am and I sorta didn't sleep at all so my cranium ain't working 100%. hope this sorta explains things tho

[mytheoristavenue]

Dude I know you don't have any requests but if you ever feel up to it I would absolutely eat up a continuation of your creature x reader fic...perhaps they slowly fall for each other.

Hes just...he's so sweet and the way you write him makes me feral. I'm definitely going to check out your other works.

This is me letting you know that your target audience had been reached

Normally, I would politely decline or ignore requests, as I just don't enjoy doing them anymore for multiple reasons, but I wanted to address this one specifically. Hopefully this isn't too short!

For the sake of this story, let's pretend that the time between the events of the movie span over a longer period.

LF Creature x Reader - Compost

Summary: Creature helps you out in your garden.

Warnings: mentions of rot, bugs, worms, and dung, creature x reader, bisexual reader, reader has a crush on Lisa, continuation of Mutual Comfort, plot holes, not proofread, spelling/gramatical errors, calling Creature Ein

"You look different today," you noticed allowed, squatted over the flower bed, carefully dropping a marigold from your trowel and covering the roots with soil. "Little more alive."

The man behind you grunted in response, prompting you to glance at him over your shoulder. He seemed to have more color in his face, and his hair seemed less stringy. He lifted a discolored hand, and waved it around as if it were an explaination. You simply shrugged, not understanding the meaning, and went back to what you were doing.

"Regaurdless, I appreciate you helping me." you smiled, standing up and admiring your newly replanted marigolds. Another grunt in responce. "Now I need to mix up the compost pile. Mind pushing that wheel barrow over there?" you aske pointing to the object and then to the destination. Nodding, Creature made his way over.

Once he got behind the wheel barrow, however, he scrunched his face in disgust. "What?" you laughed, slumping your shoulders. "Too good for hard labor? He shook his head, letting go of thehandles and covering his nose. Finally, it clicked for you.

"Oh, come on, you big baby. It doesn't stink tha bad." you rolled your eyes, walking over to simply wheel it over yourself. Seeing you prepared to take matters into your own hands, Creature finally pulled himself up by the bootstraps, taking hold of the handles again and pushing it forward. "Its cow dung, if you were curious," you giggled, following him. "My dad has a friend that owns a far and he hooks me up with free manure for the garden."

Once again, Creature grimaced, turning up his nose. "Hey, Zomboy," you scolded playfully. "Your half rotted flest doesn't smell all that much better." He flashed you a hurt expression coupled with a somber groan, making you back peddle. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Finally in front of the compost pile, you grabbed a nearby shovel and began to heave the dung onto the top, the smell never once bothering you. When you were finished, you stuck the shovel in the ground and rested a foot on it, hiking your knee up, and glued your hands to your hips, tired from a hard day's work.

"I don't know about you, but I think today is a good day for some lemonade." You sighed, beginning to walk back toward the house, Creature trailing behind you. "You like lemonade?" He nodded when you glanced back, prompting you to smile. "Go ahead and take a seat," you said, motioning to the patio set to his right. "I'll go get us some."

After a few minutes, you returned, slipping out the back door and into the yard, a glass in each hand, but your eyes lit up before you couven step off the patio. You quickly scurried over to set the glasses down, gushing over what he had. It was a lovely little hand picked bouquet, mostly consisting of wildflowers and weeds. In the short time you were gone, Creature had taken it upon himself to currate you a gift. "Ein..." you breathed, taking it from him and examining it. "You did this for me...?" you asked, oblivious to how silly the question was. He nodded with a timid smile, inviting you to sit with him.

After a moment, your heart dropped, realizing what you'd called him by. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry I called you that!" you fretted. "Lisa told me that was the last little bit of your name, I sholdv'e asked if you'd be kay with being called that."

He seemed to wave your worries off, shaking his head, signalling tha he wasn't bothered. He then bowed his head, something that confused you. "So you are okay with me calling you Ein?" He bowed again, and you were unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. "Okay, Ein it is then. I suppose we couldn't have just called you 'Creature' forever, right?" He shrugged, as if he truly didn't care what his name ended up being. "Regardless, thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful."

The man couldn't help but stare as you admired the little nosegay, noting how eyes eyes lit up when you smiled and your nose scrunched when you laughed. He actually found himself so invested in observing you while sipping his lemonade that he choked a little when your eyes flitted back to him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" you suddenly jumped up, patting his back as he coughed, hunched over. "Ein? Ein! Are you okay?" you panicked, patting a bit harder, and wondering if the heimlick would even work on a corpse. Luckily, that deemed to be unnessisary as he finally spat up whatever was clogging his airway.There on the table, squirmed a very long, slimy earthworm.

"I-Is...is that a worm?" you grimaced, entirely freaked out as you stared at it, eyes flickering back to his every few seconds. Creature was frozen in place, terrified he'd ruined a lovely moment between the two of you, and slapped his hand over the thing, shaking his head no. "You're telling me I didn't just watch you spit up a worm onto my dad's patio table? You're telling me if I move your hand, there's not gonna be a worm?"

Hesitantly, he shook his head with a nervous smile, resisting as hard as possible when you grabbed his hand to move it. Though you had no time to think about it then, you couldn't help but notice the way the stitches holding his hand on felt under your finger tips- definately an interesting sensation.

Finally, you managed to lift his hand up, still holding it, and proved yourself right, once again staring at the wiggly little thing on the table. With a sigh, and ignoring his protests, you reached down and lifted it into your palm. "Got anymore?"

Creature sheepishly shook his head and got up to follow you as you walked away. "Well, this little guy is going in my compost pile." you decided, pinching the worm out of your palm and setting it on top of the pile. "And if it has any buddies in there, they're welcome to the pile too." you smiled, grabbing his hand again.

"I like you," you confessed with a giggle. "A few little bugs aren't gonna scare me away."

I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for! Sorry it was so rushed, it probably has a million errors, as my gramarly is suddenly not working!

[wildfloweroutlaw]

Reflections

~~~~~

pairing: arthur x female reader

summary: arthur returns home to you after long days on the road, and brings with him a fun new idea.

warnings: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, vaginal sex, i guess kinda soft dom if you squint, maybe not historically accurate terms for clothing?

a/n: sorry if i’m rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve wrote, but i had so much fun doing this! someone throw a bucket of cold water on me.

word count: 1.6K

~~~~~~

The feeling of hot kisses and Arthur’s scruff crept down your exposed collar bone. His form rested heavily atop your own, gently pressing you into the mattress below. You tangled your hands in his shirt, tugging at it with impatience.

“So god damn beautiful…” Arthur murmured between kisses, eyes soaking in your half naked form below him. His hand snaked its way down to your waistband and slid underneath with practiced ease. He palmed you gently through your panties, eliciting a muffed moan from you. He could feel the fabric was entirely soaked through already, “All this ‘cause of me darlin’?”

You could only manage a soft moan, hips jutting up in search of more pressure. Your fingers moved to twine their way into his hair, pulling softly. You felt Arthur pull away suddenly, but quickly returned to yank your pants away from your body, throwing them to the side. Suddenly feeling far too alone in your nakedness, you reached for Arthur’s shirt buttons, popping them open one by one until you could pull the fabric away from his body. You were quick to toss it into the ever-growing pile on the floor.

Arthur closed the distance between you two with haste, pressing his bare chest to you as he reached around your back to unfasten your bra. He leaned back a bit to take in the view, one calloused palm coming up to caress your breast. “Christ alive you’re perfect.” Arthur’s spare hand found the bulge in his pants, palming himself in hopes of a little relief.

“So are you...” You whimpered under his touch, reaching to grab his hand and guide it to your clothed heat. “Please Arthur… need you inside me so bad.” You blushed at your own words, knowing you probably sounded pathetic but you didn’t care. It had been far too long since you’d had Arthur and you thought about him almost every night he was gone. Sometimes so much so that your hands would find their way under the sheets late at night and you’d imagine they were his.

Arthur chuckled softly at you, “needy aren’t ya?”

“You have no idea.”

His breath brushed against the shell of your ear, “oh I think I do… but your wish is my command. Sit tight a minute darlin’.” Arthur pushed himself up off the bed and disappeared into the next room. He returned a moment later, carrying a full length mirror, placing it carefully at the foot of the bed.

“What are you up to Arthur?” Your eyes followed him curiously and you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look. You glanced between your mostly naked reflection and your lover’s form.

“You’ll see, just trust me.” He undid his belt buckle and let it clatter to the floor along with his jeans, leaving him standing before you in only his briefs and your eyes drank in his form hungrily. He closed the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours passionately. Arthur then reached down to slowly and tenderly remove your panties, discarding them to the side.

Arthur’s fingers found your most sensitive spots with practiced ease. You studied his handsome face while he pleasured you, but you found his own eyes studying something else. You followed his gaze towards the end of the bed and your eyes met in the mirror. You had almost forgotten the mirror was even there, but now you took in the scene that was laid before you. You, with your legs spread wide, one flung haphazardly across Arthur’s lap. You watched how Arthur’s weathered fingers worked you rhythmically, all with a smug look on his face. You closed your eyes quickly, your face heating up at the lewd depictions reflected in front of you.

Arthur pulled away suddenly and you groaned in protest, eyes fluttering open to find Arthur removing his briefs. He was quick to return to your side, lifting one of your legs a bit to grant him better access. “God damnit darlin’… I’m an impatient man. I’d like to take ya now… if that’s alright with you.” He slid his throbbing member back and forth against your entrance, waiting for your permission.

You agreed hungrily, “yes, oh Arthur please… I-I’ve dreamt of you inside me every night since you left.” Your hand went to caress his bearded jaw tenderly, your gaze meeting his.

Arthur chuckled softly, “and now ya got me.” He pushed inside you, slowly, until he was sheathed to the hilt. You both let out moans at the sudden pressure. Arthur waited in perfect stillness for you to adjust to his size, eyes locked on yours.

Only a couple heartbeats had passed before you were hungrily bucking your hips backwards onto his length, a silent plea for Arthur to move, even just a little. You stared right back at him, eyes filled with desperation.

His broad chest pressed against your back and a well-muscled arm snaked around your waist, the other sliding under your shoulders to cradle you against him. “And I thought I was impatient…” Arthur laughed under his breath, “I always give ya what ya need don’t I?” He moved his hips painfully slow, pulling all the way out and back in.

Finally growing tired of teasing you, Arthur quickened his pace, finding a steady rhythm. A symphony of moans left your mouth, mixing with Arthur’s. You let your eyes flutter closed and your head fall back in pleasure.

“Look.” Arthur commanded while his grip on your waist tightened slightly.

You opened your eyes again and looked to the end of the bed where the mirror stood. You let your eyes freely rove the imagine laid out in front of you. The slight pink tint to your face, Arthur’s large hand sneaking up to toy with the sensitive bud of your nipple, the way his hips snapped to yours, him disappearing inside of you. It was all almost too much. Just as you were about to look away, Arthur gently gripped you by the chin and kept you in place.

“Wanted ya to see how pretty ya look-“ Arthur’s voice was cut off by a groan. “Wanted ya to see how well ya take my cock for me.”

Arthur’s breath was hot against the shell of your ear and when you met his gaze in the mirror, his face was painted with ecstasy. The sight of his beautiful face, and the sight of you making him feel that good, was almost enough to send you over the edge then and there. “You look- pretty too.” You struggled to form words as the haze of lust had already seeped into your brain, but Arthur smiled all the same.

“Jesus you feel so good… my sweet girl.” Arthur cooed into your ear, the pad of his thumb brushing over your other nipple.

“Arthur… getting close.” You managed to choke out between moans, putty in his hands at this point.

“I know sweetheart.” And he did know. He knew your body just as well as his own. “Promise me you’ll keep those eyes open and I’ll give ya what you want, alright?” He moved to press sloppy kisses to the side of your neck.

You nodded furiously, “mmhmm.. I promise.” You could have sworn your entire body was on fire.

Arthur dropped his hand to the crook of your knee, lifting your leg to allow for a deeper angle. “That feel good darlin’?” He picked his pace up a bit.

You were past the point of words as waves of pleasure racked your body and you watched the scene in front of you through half-lidded eyes.

Arthur took the pretty noises spewing out of you as a yes.

You were so close, the pleasure almost blinding. This was exactly what you needed, exactly what you had been missing. You reached a hand between your legs, rubbing small circles and relishing the additional sensation.

Arthur nearly choked at the sight. “You’re gonna be the death of me woman.” His thrusts faltered slightly, growing sloppier as he neared his own climax.

Your fingers kept a steady rhythm, “Arthur I-“

Arthur’s growl in your ear was the only thing keeping you tethered to this universe, ”Go ahead sweetheart, let go for me.”

At his words, your orgasm rolled through you and curses and moans tumbled from your lips. Finally your eyes snapped shut from the pleasure.

The feeling of you clenching around him sent Arthur falling over the edge right after you, rutting into you helplessly as he chased his own climax. Arthur moaned your name like it was the only word he could remember how to say, in that moment it might have been. His orgasm crashed down around him, lighting him on fire.

His pace finally slowed to a stop, and for a long time the two of you just laid there with nothing but the sound of both of your pants filling the room. Arthur wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You turned in his embrace, rolling over to stare up at his face. “Where’d you come up with this idea?” You nodded over your shoulder to the mirror that still stood at the foot of the bed.

Arthur shrugged. “Dunno… just thought about it while I was staying at a hotel. I thought it’d be something we’d both like.”

“You have any other fun ideas while you were gone?” You grinned up at him, fingers tracing shapes on his chest.

Arthur chuckled, “More than I can count. You’re just about all I can think about.” Arthur pressed a few tender kisses to your lips. “I love ya sweetheart, I’m so glad I’m home.” He rested his forehead against yours.

You accepted all of his affection with open arms, glowing in his embrace. “I love you too Arthur… and maybe we could try out a couple more of your ideas?” Arthur’s chuckle was his only response.

[podcastenthusiast]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List

Mostly payneland <3 I will update as I find more fics.

“I don’t like this, mate,” Charles muttered.

The Things We Can, and Cannot, Do by MDJensen

Paul Rowland is dead. It's not just that, though.

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees

“No,” Edwin agreed, gravely. “Nor do I.”

Frankly, taking this case was probably an unwise decision. The meagre payment offered by the sickly-looking ghost of the old groundskeeper would fall far, far short of the emotional cost of the expedition. And yet when Edwin had looked over to Charles and met his eyes, there had been no doubt, no hesitation. Perhaps it was the notion of unfinished business; that mysterious force that compelled ghosts to sites of personal trauma as sirens compelled sailors to the unforgiving rocks. Perhaps they were both mere gluttons for punishment.

Either way, they were here now. It was with heavy hearts and wary eyes that on the evening of June twenty-sixth, Edwin and Charles – along with Crystal – set foot once more on the grounds of St. Hilarion's School for Boys.   In which a very, very old case is re-opened.

Mom Says It's My Turn to Jump on the Grenade by RoseGanymede95

Charles tried to pay attention, because Edwin was really upset, and Charles still didn’t understand why, and it seemed like this might be important. It was just, they’d been at this for a while, and Edwin kept asking him the same questions and not leaving him time to answer, so. His mind may have wandered a bit to how he would reinforce the next cricket bat. His attention snapped back to the present when Edwin said, “This can’t happen. You can’t risk this, I can’t be the reason you risk it. You have to move on.” “Move on?” Charles repeated blankly. “Move on from what?” “From here, Charles!” Edwin shouted, suddenly furious again, suddenly shouting even though his eyes were filled with tears. “You have to go with Death! You have to leave!” “I don’t want to go with Her,” Charles said, nonplussed. “Fine, that’s your business, but you can’t keep hanging around me!” Edwin snapped. Charles’ world suddenly tilted on its axis, sending everything askew. “I can’t?” he asked, his voice small, his heart wide open and exposed.

Let me bleed instead of you by mellxncollie

The question rang like a cracked bell in what had only just become someplace Edwin had started to contemplate calling home. “What was Hell like?” - Charles and Edwin keep secrets from one another. The list isn't long, but it's not empty. Eventually, they start tumbling out in soft whispers, in tear-reddened eyes, in shocked expressions, in choked up phrases.

Or, 40 years and 8 secrets.

Indelible by Arisprite

Charles is feeling a lot and also not much at all in the immediate aftermath of returning from Hell. He also can tell Edwin is wearing thin from holding himself together. Who wouldn't be, after that? It's okay, though. Charles can take care of him, and he always always will.

Done Running by Asidian

Charles has gone a peculiar off color, all the blood blanched from his cheeks. He glances to the arm, and then back up to Edwin's face. "Any break's a bad break, innit?"

"Some have more drawbacks than others," says Edwin, detached and scholarly. "For instance, unless the nerves are compromised, it is possible to make use of the injured arm in cases of extreme –"

"Bloody hell," breathes Charles.

Joi de Vivre by olympus_mons

Edwin Payne crawls out of Hell twice. Somehow, his problems begin in the aftermath.

so many ways to give in by piilu

“I think there’s something really wrong with me, mate,” Charles sobs, the remains of the bat falling from his hand. ---- Charles struggles with his anger issues. Again.

A Room of One's Own by DarkStars (Worlds_Okayest_Goalie)

Crystal is so tired of watching Charles and Edwin stare longingly at each other. OR 5 times Crystal tells Charles and Edwin to get a room and 1 time they do.

Shape Me by dearheartdont

At least twice a year Charles and his mum packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware.

Charles Rowland and his relationship with his extended family and heritage.

(Part of a series of snapshots of Charles’ life in the 1980s.)

half of my soul, as the poets say by thegirlofthorns

Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling.

- Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, and Very Bad by hibye

It was about the torture. The torture he was experiencing presently, and also every minute of every hour of every day, standing alongside Edwin Payne and saying nothing out of the ordinary at all.

O Spirit From The Great Beyond! by InTwainFiction

Edwin is ignoring Charles.

They haven't spoken in almost twelve hours, and all because of a little incident involving some puppies. Yes, said incident may have been Charles' fault, but he has apologised a million times.

Charles is getting desperate to find a way to get Edwin to talk to him again, and a little walk away from the office provides just the thing Charles needs.

He hopes it will get Edwin to talk to him, but at the very least it will be a laugh.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

“The house is… sad,” the client responds.

“Again, we can’t help with selling the house. Maybe try some decorations. That’ll brighten the old place up,” Charles suggests.

“No, you misunderstand. The house doesn’t look sad. The house is sad. It is depressed.”

“How do you figure?” Edwin says, sitting up in his chair now that the client has said something potentially interesting.

or A new case brings up old feelings, and maybe something more.

A Heaven Like They Talk About by LikeMmCookies

After managing to piss off yet another witch, Edwin and Charles are cursed as punishment. Bewildered, powerless, and lacking answers, they face their greatest challenge yet: being human again.

With Edwin doing novel things like picking out shampoo and wearing different pants, Charles finds his body reacting in strange ways to his best friend. He questions if these are new feelings, or if they'd been there all along.

But the biggest question remains - do they stay alive or do they find a way to go back?

being unknown by The_IPRE

Edwin does know Charles, or at least he likes to think that he does. He knows that Charles is far better with the clients than he is, quick to offer a smile or extend sympathy while Edwin is far more interested in delving deeper into the details of the case. He knows that Charles has a wicked swing with his cricket bat, but prefers to leave that as a second resort when he believes there's a way for them to come to a compromise. He knows that Charles chooses to hope for the best from people, even after having seen the worst they have to offer–and in fact, having been killed by it.

As Charles sits in front of him, the strain in his shoulders at odds with the easy grin on his face, Edwin wonders how much of his friend he is failing to see. -- 5 times Edwin didn't press the issue, and one time he did.

The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) by DontOffendTheBees

“Charles,” Edwin admonished, gently closing his book with a finger tucked between the pages to hold his place. “I have asked you to stop fooling around with that contraption and get some work done.”

“I have been!” Charles defended, gesturing broadly at the higgledy-piggledy array of items around him. Evidently, taking stock of the contents of his bag of tricks was an expansive task. “Taking a break.” He snatched the small square of paper from the Polaroid camera and began to shake it with abandon.   In which Charles partakes in some amateur ghost photography, and Edwin (fondly) bemoans the futility of the exercise.

The Good Left Undone by plutosheaven

Help comes from unlikely places when Edwin is once again faced with a threat worse than death.

the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)

Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.

Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.

XXX

“Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”

“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.

“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.

Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all

At the top of a small pile of papers was a copy of Form 239, Schedule L, filled out with achingly familiar handwriting. At the top, the word "Approved" was stamped in large red letters.

This Darkness, Enduring by kickingtheladder

“Your son is gone,” they tell her. “It was… an Act of God.”

She cannot think of a single thing to say for a very long moment. And then she has many things to say, most of which are not at all appropriate for polite company. --- Edwin Payne's mother, before and after.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by kickingtheladder

“Your son is gone," they tell her. "He ran away." She doesn't say anything. --- Charles Rowland's mother, afterwards.

dreaming of the things you said / hoping that it's meant by ohmyfuckinggod420

Edwin turns away with a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. His non-existent, ghostly stomach. It seems so ridiculously cruel and on theme for his current situation. Not only is he in love with his best friend, and not only does his best friend not love him back, but he’s feeling things that he shouldn’t be feeling on top of things that he physically should not be able to feel. or

The gang is back in London. Niko is gone, Crystal is on the cusp of a breakdown, Charles is still a flirt, and Edwin is... trying his best.

Oh, and he keeps feeling his pulse. As a ghost. A very dead ghost.

The trouble really never ends.

the ghost of the past that you live in by ObsessedWithFandom

It didn’t start as much. As anything, really. Charles noticed him in the hallways only because he was new, which was rare in Year 11, and because he smiled shyly whenever Charles said hi. Aysar, he’d introduced himself, and Charles liked the way the syllables formed in his mouth. He wanted to be Aysar’s friend.

Or: five boys Charles didn't date, and one he did.

Aftermath by sophisticatedyet

“What are you humming?”

Charles’ polo muffled his question, and the pause before Charles answered was so long that Edwin wondered if he hadn’t heard him at all. But then he said, "A lullaby.”

The answer made Edwin smile bemusedly. “Why? I can't fall asleep.”

“Yeah, duh, I know. It's just meant to soothing.”

“Oh.” Edwin rested his head back against Charles’ chest. “I suppose I do feel quite soothed.”

Dance the Night by Gruoch

“What is that?” Crystal asks, looking Edwin up and down with an expression of abject befuddlement that borders on disgust.

“It is my disguise,” Edwin replies a little stiffly in response to her tone. “You told me to wear a disguise.”

“You look like Margaret Thatcher,” Crystal says flatly. “You’re going undercover at a nightclub, not a library. This—“ she plucks at Edwin’s long tweed skirt, her lip curling— “is not appropriate nightclub attire. You’re gonna attract too much attention.”

“I thought attracting attention was the point of this ludicrous exercise,” Edwin snaps back.

“Yes, the right kind of attention,” Crystal stresses. “This—” she waves a hand broadly at him—“will get the wrong kind of attention.”

~~

In which the gang returns home to discover something sinister stalking London’s party scene after dark, Edwin lets his hair down, Charles’ confidence is shaken, and Crystal pursues a new lease on life (and hopefully doesn’t die in the process).

Everywhere, Everything (wanna love you) by WildCookieKeef

Freedom, as it seems, is suffocating. Decades spent running away from death herself and yet now more than ever does Edwin feel restless. Hell is behind him for the second time. He might’ve escaped his fate of eternal torture, but rabidly approaching are revelations he would’ve kept buried for far longer.

He’d never be so flustered and disorganized if it hadn’t been for Crystal or the Cat King or Monty or the Night Nurse or that horrible witch Esther or Simon, god not Simon, or practically reenacting old Greek tales with his best mate or. . .

No. It’s no one’s fault but his own. If he could sleep he’s sure he’d have nightmares.

Of what? There’s lots to choose from, but he can just feel it. Maybe some spirit malady has taken root in his body. He can sense the tension under his skin. Aches of pain that he knows aren’t physical.

He never should’ve told Charles. What was he thinking?

or After the end of S1, Edwin reasons that Charles rejected his confession and fears the worst while trying to suffer silently. Charles is very bad at letting Edwin suffer in peace.

the eight layers of hell, reversed by Zairielon

There's a lot that Edwin and Charles don't talk about. Frankly, after 30 years together, you don't have to say much for the other person to get the point. But Port Townsend and Crystal and Niko knocked their dynamic off-kilter, and by the time they return to London and finally get back to "normal," "normal" has changed. "Normal" is now Crystal's bright laughter, Niko's earnest affection, and Edwin's faint smiles. "Normal" is an unnameable ball of emotions tangled up in Charles' chest. "Normal" is Edwin looking at him, and Charles hearing those words all over again.

Charles, I'm in love with you.

OR, Charles figures out what it means that Edwin is the only person in the world he'd run into Hell for.

When We Walk Together We Tend To Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor

She’s never unexpected, but she’s always a surprise. And when Charles meets her, it's nothing like the nightmare he's built up in his own head, being split away from Edwin and cursed to an afterlife without him. She's kind and gentle and familiar, and she gives him a chance to say goodbye to his mother.

Or, the one where Charles meets Death. They have a lot to talk about. But it's okay. They have time.

it's you that i hold on to by lrvzender

A pair of lips press shakily on his temple. Charles Rowland’s blood definitely runs hot, Edwin decides, definitely.

“You’re not asking anything, mate. But you have to understand that you are worth saving, a thousand times over. You are worth knowing, Edwin.”

Something bigger than the whole, wide sky. Something bigger than death, perhaps.

(where Edwin does not ask to be known, but Charles knows anyway)

and your song, it haunts me like hunger does the crow by kay_cricketed

After they return to London, Charles notices an escalation in people approaching Edwin with their attentions. Which is fine! It's not that Charles is jealous. He wants Edwin to be happy and to have a chance at a fulfilling relationship, yeah? The problem is, Charles is aware that Edwin is unpracticed with these kinds of emotions and other people, and it would be very easy for someone to take advantage. And that’s not going to happen, not on Charles’ watch.

To make matters worse, the admirers are getting a little too intense. And Charles is starting to suspect there's more at work than everyone realizing his best mate is brills.

(Or: In which the damage to Edwin's soul across years of torture has had an unusual effect, and Charles needs to fix it before he's compelled to violence. Again.)

trína chéile, le chéile, claochlaithe / entangled, together, transformed by theroyalsavage

Edwin Payne and Charles Roland are not Orpheus and Eurydice. They are not tragic figures of myth, children of gods and spirits, immortalized in verse by the poets of old. They’re nothing special at all – just two boys too stubborn to move on. With that said, however… Edwin must admit that there are certain similarities.

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary

"Are you a zombie?” Niko peers into Edwin’s eyes. “Because the Night Nurse told me zombies exist. Do you hunger for brains, Edwin?”

“Hardly.” Remembering being splattered with gray matter in the not-so-distant past, Edwin shudders. He cannot imagine consuming it. “I’m not a zombie.”

“What about a vampire?” She almost looks excited by the prospect. “We’re only a couple of hours from Forks. It would be perfect!””   When they’re caught during their escape from Hell, Charles and Edwin have no choice but to make a deal: they have one hundred days to find and entrap a powerful, malevolent spirit, or both of their souls are forfeit. But when they’re both temporarily restored to living bodies to aid in their search, being alive brings with it a host of new feelings, which neither of them know how to cope with, especially as their deadline looms closer and their quarry proves increasingly dangerous.

Unbreakable by Asexual_Enjolras

Edwin feels as though he owes Charles an apology because he cannot offer support to his best friend in the same way that Crystal can. And Charles tells him exactly where to stick that apology the moment he does.

Or, Edwin feels like he is broken and Charles does not agree.

after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr

“Where are you buried, do you’ve any idea?”

“My body was never found,” he replies softly. “There is a memorial marker next to my parents’ graves, but my remains are not there.”

The idea is so horrifying that it stuns Charles into silence for a couple seconds. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?”

Edwin’s shoulders tense. “The whole thing is bloody tragic enough as it is.”

Grabbing his wrist, Charles begins marching them back in the direction of the pond they used to get here. Edwin doesn’t resist, but he does argue, because of course he does. “Charles, where are we going?”

“St. Hilarion’s. We’ve got a new case, don’t we?”

Hold This by RoseGanymede95

“Alright, listen,” Charles said, after trying not to think at all for at least five minutes. “Hear me out.”

“Any ideas?” Edwin asked, not looking up from his page.

“It’s just. What would actually happen if you cut my hand off?”

Edwin jerked his head up so fast, Charles wondered that he didn’t brain himself against the stone wall. He looked more offended than he had when he found out about the live snake in Charles’ bag.

“What the hell kind of a question is that?” He hissed.

“I’m not saying we should do it!” Charles backpedaled. “I’m just curious! These cuffs make us proper solid, don’t they? We could probably lop it off and get me out.”

“No,” said Edwin emphatically. “We are not discussing this. I don’t want you getting any ideas and chewing your own arm off like a trapped weasel.”

“Not my whole arm, just my hand.”

the start of something beautiful (the spoiler-free remix) by KiaraSayre

Four cases from the Dead Boy Detectives casebook, featuring amnesia, corporeality, a time loop, and a chill hang sesh.

If I'm Batman, You're Robin by ahyperactivehero

Charles misses a lot of things from life. One of those is the movies. Edwin volunteers to go with him.

XXX

“Batman Returns?” Edwin asked, reading the title. “What sort of creature is a Batman?”

Charles couldn’t help the bark of a laugh he let out. “No, he’s not a creature, mate. He’s a superhero.” At the totally blank look on Edwin’s face he tried again. “He’s like a detective. But he fights crime with his fists, too.”

“Ah,” Edwin said with a knowing look. “One of your heroes, I see.”

offer me that deathless death by websters_lieb

It takes the better part of two days for Charles’s body to even be found, and in the end, Edwin is forced to turn on all the lights in the gymnasium attic where Charles had died in order to get a janitor to come upstairs. No one had even been looking for him, yet. - or Edwin and Charles attend a funeral, look for a gravestone, and decide to become detectives.

Edwin's Payne tolerance by RabidWatermelon

Charles knew Edwin had a high pain tolerance. How could he not, having endured the tortures of hell? He just didn’t expect it to be so… useful.

AKA I want to write drabbles about Edwin's pain tolerance because I think it's something that would come up over thirty years together and be mildly concerning to someone who went through abuse in life. No fixed plot or posting schedule. Will update tags as chapter come out w new content.

The Case of Edwin's Missing Notebook by thewalkingstone

Edwin forgot his notebook at the office.

Not a problem. He prided himself on having an excellent memory. He certainly liked to jot down notes as he worked, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t work without it. He would just have to remember things until they returned to the office.

It was fine. He was a professional, and professionals did not delay an investigation because they forgot their notebook. OR Just months after escaping Hell, Edwin accidentally forgets his notebook on a case. He does not handle it well. Luckily, his new best mate is there to help him out.

The Scenic Route by DontOffendTheBees

"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."

Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."

"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."   In which the agency takes the scenic route to their next case; and Edwin finally receives some answers he's been waiting for.

what some circumstance stole by Chrome

For a magic-user intent on siphoning pain for power, both Hob Gadling and Edwin Payne represent unique opportunities. United in dire circumstances, a man incapable of dying and a boy long dead forge an unusual friendship--and try to survive the experience. --- “When you died,” Hob said. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” “That,” Hob said, “Is awful.” Edwin shrugged. “Life is, I’m afraid,” he said. “Can be wonderful, too,” Hob said. “I promise.”

[pathologicalrunaway]

i saw that one tumblr post about how aviary cheapens the point of sky as a story (the civilisation is lost and all we know are only shadows of what was before; but aviary brings everyone back and we coexist now, instead of being two generations that were never supposed to meet) reposted on reddit a while ago and i have a couple of thoughts on this matter.

because one hand, i do agree that there was a bittersweetness in walking through a dead world that was lost. that aviary feels alive and the world is supposed to be dead. but i think a crucial aspect of this whole discourse (lore-wise) could lie in the first character aviary can be associated with. and this character — and their little village — do not really contradict the point of the game, but contribute to it

hopeful steward. they are, first things first, a child. like we are, as players. and children are often associated with hope for a better future, and this game is no exception. it's up to the children to bring light back, it's us and our connections that make sky a happy place. it's us that bring hope in the fact thay maybe, maybe not everything is over yet. that there's still something to admire, something to love, something to believe in.

steward is the one waiting in front of the village doors, they are the one showing us how to bring back the village, so it would make sense to assume that the village is their idea and, to an extent, their responsibility.

they are in charge of this silly little community like elders once were, but the elders fell. they made bad decisions that led to the world's destruction. this is mostly speculation, at least now, and we should wait for two embers to give us the whole picture, but it looks like the reason why aviary exists is because the world was on the verge of collapse and hopeful steward (and a couple more people) wanted — if not to prevent this — at least to try to save someone.

a second chance for the dying world.

they were hoping for a better future despite the inevitable doom. they had hope in the fact that, even in those dark times, the world would bounce back.

and their name says a lot about them. they wake up to see their home destroyed, their friends gone, the bells broken. the only thing alive is the child with a candle in front of them. but they don't succumb to despair, they keep faith, showing the newcomer around, explaining what happened.

they have no reason to believe that the kid that has just fallen fron the sky can restore light. they have no proof they are even able to do such things, that they are strong enough. they just hope.

and their hope pays back, eventually, after oh-so many losses. the world — and, most importantly, its people, — are saved. maybe not in the way any of them wanted but hey, life's tricky like that.

hopeful steward and their village refraim the point of the story, not destroy it. we spent years wandering in an empty kingdom haunted by the ghosts of what once were its people, not knowing what happened, or who they used to be, or if there was a way they could be happy again. and now we know that dark times don't last forever. trees grow back when people leave cities, animals return to where progress preciously exiled them from, and humanity bounces back. life is a cycle, and nothing just stays gone forever. good times come, eventually. with hope and friendship and love.

but it doesn't mean things are exactly the way they used to be, no. the realms are still destroyed. people look very different now. aviary village grows, but it's slow and painful and we are constantly reminded of how nothing is the same anymore (nesting guide looking wistfully at the picture, compassionate cellist and duets guide's dream coming true far too late). many go to the stars because this is an option now, and there is no guarantee the village's inhabitants will stay there forever, just like there was no guarantee back then that they would live there happily ever after.

and eden stayed the same. at the end of the day, all the loss and pain and mistakes of people there were before us is still here. it's just now we're stopping mourning the past and focus on the present instead