#collectively losing our minds I mean :D

[minnaci]

SHIEDA KAYN | nsfw abc's — headcanons

contents: gender-neutral!reader, reader is implied to be kayn's partner, mentions of heavy/intense kinks, kayn is a lil slut (affectionate), some soft!kayn for the soul, top-leaning switch kayn, penetrative sex (reader receiving)

written with both heartsteel & canon kayn in mind! lemme slut out our collective boyfriend <3 nsfw alphabet hc prompts taken from @/the-coldest-goodbye. as always, thanks for reading! comments + rbs + asks always appreciated :3 stream paranoia!

a (aftercare) — what are they like after sex?

kayn is surprisingly considerate— he's pretty good about matching his aftercare to whatever activity you've done. for a long night of hard sex, you might get a bath and cuddles. for a vanilla quickie, he might toss a snack at you, pull you into his lap, and rest his chin on your shoulder while he makes sure you eat it.

b (body part) — favorite body part of theirs? their partners?

kayn has a not-so-secret thing for your hips. it doesn't matter how big or small, how curvy or flat, just as long as he can get his hands on them and squeeze. on himself... well, he's worked hard for his abs. it'd be a shame if he didn't appreciate them fully! (in the rare, soft moments, he'll tell you he likes his hands. he likes the way they fit with yours)

c (cum) — what's up with the cum situation?

kayn loves using his own cum as lube. it's thick and creamy and sticky, and something about the way it drips from your skin makes his head spin. he also makes adjustments to his diet to make sure he tastes good because he's freaky like that (read: he absolutely licks his own cum off his fingers after he jerks off, and he relishes in the taste)

d (dirty secret) — what's their dirty little secret?

sometimes, when he's feeling particularly wretched, kayn will ask rhaast to take over his body and jerk him off. the combination of giving up control and rhaast's taunting, filthy praises makes him cum harder than anything he could do to himself.

e (experience) — how experienced are they?

kayn knows how sex works, but more importantly, he's well-versed in pleasure. he's perfectly capable of figuring out just what makes you tick (and what makes your brain melt out of your leaking hole). it's just a matter of how nice he's feeling.

f (favorite position) — what's their favorite position?

kayn absolutely loves doggy. there's just something about the way he can manhandle you, and mount you, hands spanning over your hips, pulling you back onto his cock, that makes him hopelessly aroused. the only downside is that he can't see your pretty face when you cum on his cock, but he's generally okay with that. after all, there's always next round.

g (goofy) — are they more serious? more humorous?

kayn tends to be a force of nature when it comes to fucking you. the only time he really laughs during sex is in disbelief of how good you feel, nice and warm and wet around his cock, or if he's being mean, he'll laugh at how needy and desperate you are. if you catch him in a good mood, though, he'll grin and engage in a bit of teasing banter while he does his best to make you lose your train of thought.

h (hair) — how well-groomed are they? do the carpets match the drapes?

kayn doesn't really shave, but he doesn't really need to— he's naturally got a bit less hair down there. he occasionally does a little trim, just to keep everything looking neat and enticing, including the tempting patch of hair that trails down his tummy. as for the color... the carpet matches the drapes, though he won't dye his pubes to match if he dyes his hair. he learned that lesson a while ago.

i (intimacy) — how romantic are they? how sensual?

it really depends. he has the capacity for romance— it's one of those fantasies that he keeps in a secret back corner of his mind, only to be pulled out when he's feeling at his weakest. he likes linking his fingers with yours. he loves kissing you while you cum. and if you specifically ask for something sweet and slow, he'll oblige (though not without making a little fuss about how he's big, bad, dark and powerful first)

j (jerk off) — masturbation headcanon

kayn is a huge supporter of jerking off. he proudly fails no nut november on november 1st every year. but it's not really his fault— his balls just feel so full and heavy if he doesn't cum at least once or twice a day. and it's no joke, either— the ache between his legs often becomes overwhelming, sending him stumbling to his bed to curl a rough palm around his length. even rhaast lets out a soft sigh of relief once the familiar pleasure starts to coil in kayn's gut. if you're not around to help him through it, what else can he do but fuck his fist?

k (kink) — what's a kink they have?

kayn's got a corruption kink a mile wide. he loves watching his partners go from put-together, well-adjusted members of society to needy, slutty little puddles of arousal. the higher they fly, the farther they have to fall, and kayn loves tugging you down just a little further into the depths of degeneracy.

l (location) — what's their favorite place to get it on?

he's not picky, but if you let him choose, kayn has nothing wrong with fucking in a bed— yours or his, it doesn't matter. of course, he's had his fair share of public sex, and he can't deny he loves the thrill of almost getting caught, but his possessive streak balks at the idea of someone else getting to hear all of your pretty little sounds. he likes to keep you to himself, desperate and debauched in his bed.

m (motivation) — what turns them on?

a slight breeze could turn him on. really. it's almost a little pathetic how easily he can get going, but what turns him on the easiest is you. it's the littlest things, really. the sliver of skin between your shirt and your pants when you reach up and stretch, the soft curl of your smile when he's done something sweet that surprised you— there are so many small things you do that drive him insane. and he's determined to make you accept the consequences.

n (no) — what turns them off?

kayn will try (almost) anything once, but he's not a huge fan of ageplay. he'll let you call him daddy, sure, but he's not a caretaker at heart.

o (oral) — giver or receiver? skill level?

kayn won't lie— he prefers receiving head over giving it. there's just something so gutwrenching about having a pretty little thing between his thighs, lips spread wide around his cock, glancing up at him with pleading, desperate eyes. but that's not to say he never gives head. just because he prefers to receive doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy giving head. in fact, he loves to return the favor. what he lacks in technique he makes up for in pure, filthy passion. he doesn't fuck you with his tongue as much as he makes out with your dripping hole.

p (pace) — fast and rough? slow and sensual? other?

kayn's got a penchant for those deep, overwhelming thrusts— the kind that make you feel like his cock is drilling straight up into your throat. most nights, he'll come in hard and fast, fucking you stupid with single-minded devotion. but on the rare occasion where he's patient enough to take his time with you, watch out. he'll take you apart slowly, methodically, until you're nothing more than a warm, pliant hole, begging for more.

q (quickie) — opinions on quickies?

kayn loves a good quickie, especially when he's got his heartrate up and pumping. he makes sure to make it good for you, too— in fact, he doesn't tell you, but he's got a mental tally of just how fast and how often he can make you cum (hint: it's very fast and very often). the one downside is that kayn is a little shit, so he sometimes makes a mess of you and, after helping you calm down with a quick cuddle and a few sweet, lazy kisses, he'll cackle and leave you to clean up the mess of cum he's left dripping between your thighs. it doesn't happen very often, though— most of the time, he'll kiss it all off your skin. can't have any going to waste, after all.

r (risk) — do they like to experiment? do they take risks?

again, kayn will try (almost) anything once. in the world of kinks, fetishes, and pleasure, there's very little he hasn't (or won't) try. as for risk... what's life without a little adrenaline rush every once in a while? he loves a good thrill, and the high is even better when he's balls-deep inside of you, letting the cocktail of hormones and pleasure overwhelm him as his cock paints your walls with spurt after spurt of thick, creamy seed

s (stamina) — how many rounds? how long do they last?

kayn's stamina is the stuff of legends. a league of legends, even (lol). his self-control is extremely impressive, and his love for overstimulation makes him the perfect candidate for marathon sex. he can go for hours, and his refractory period is surprisingly short. on the off chance that you manage to tire him out, rhaast is always waiting in the wings, burning with the desire to take you for himself.

t (toys) — sex toy headcanon

if you ask kayn, he'd say he isn't super into toys (he's lying). he has a solid collection of them. it's mostly fleshlights, back from the days before he met you, but he also has a more discretely hidden collection of anal toys, vibrators, and massagers that his prostate is intimately and lovingly familiar with. once he meets you, he'll expand his collection to include a few nice, thick dildos— perfect for filling any empty holes that he can't take with his cock.

u (unfair) — how much do they like to tease?

kayn's ability to tease is directly correlated with how pent up he is. when he's planned a scene with you or is coming in calm, he loves to tease. he likes getting a little condescending, letting his voice take on a smug, patronizing lilt while he turns you into a dripping puddle of need, denial, and aching desire. but when he's amped up and high on adrenaline, he needs you on his cock and he needs you immediately. there's no tease— only a feral, growling beast of a man, desperate to ravage you until you're as depraved as he is.

v (volume) — how loud are they? what sounds do they make?

kayn has absolutely no self-consciousness when it comes to being loud, and he is loud. he sounds good and he knows it— he's seen your pupils dilate when he lets a particularly obscene moan slip from his throat— and he's happy to let you hear exactly what you're doing to him. his sounds range from soft, needy moans to deep, animalistic growls. on rare occasion, when he lets you ride him, you can even draw a few trembling little whimpers from his lips as he bucks his hips up, searching for more, hotter, deeper.

w (wildcard) — random hc!

sometimes, kayn's control slips when he orgasms, and rhaast peeks through. luckily for everyone, rhaast is surprisingly weak to the pleasures of the mortal flesh. one rhaast is finished having his way with you, it's pretty easy for kayn to take control again, leaving rhaast's consciousness to soak in the afterglow.

x (x-ray) — what's going on under their clothes?

kayn's not obscenely big, though he might claim otherwise. he's actually pretty average when he's hard— around 5.5 inches (14cm), but he's veiny and thick. his cock is unfairly pretty, especially when his slit drools out pearly little drops of pre-cum. when it's inside of you, it feels so heavy and hot and good that it's more than enough to keep you coming back for more. his balls are always full and always heavy, and if he lets you edge him a few times, his head goes from a deep, dusty pink to a pretty purple.

y (yearning) — how's their sex drive?

his sex drive is insane. if he's not working himself up, then rhaast is behind the scenes, whispering filthy demands in kayn's subconscious. if he were any less disciplined, he'd waste his days away, jerking himself off until you were available for him to play with. as it is, he still cums at least twice a day— once in the morning before he gets out of bed, and once at night before he goes to sleep. otherwise, his poor cock throbs with the lack of attention, and his balls get all swollen and achy, and he can't focus or relax until he's emptied himself into his fist, or, if you're around, into a warm, willing hole.

z (zzz) — how quickly do they fall asleep after?

it takes kayn a while to come down from his post-coital high. even after he's done with aftercare (both for himself and for you) and you're both sated and comfortable, he sometimes finds it hard to calm down completely. he likes to burn off that extra energy by pulling you into a slow, sensual make out session, which usually ends up with you mouthing sleepily at his neck while you both drift off to sleep.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! I rlly appreaciate everything you do and it has been VERY helpful for me and finding Fics so thank you so much!

I know there’s a nightmare tag but do u think u can find some w just Aziraphale having nightmares and Crowley comforting him? It would mean a lot but ik you prolly have millions of asks waiting to be answered so take ur time ☺️

Hi! Yes, we have a plentiful #nightmare tag. Here are some fics where Aziraphale has nightmares to add to the collection...

My gain by Mimisempai (G)

A nightmare causes Aziraphale to relive a painful scene from his past. But the awakened demon will do anything to comfort his troubled angel.

See Me Through The Night by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

After accidentally dozing off in his armchair for a less than relaxing nap, Aziraphale wakes up disoriented. Can Crowley help him calm down?

Storms of Our Own by DTora (G)

Aziraphale never liked Bad Thunderstorms, they always reminded him of that Day. He liked sleeping even less and the mixture of the two was never a good combination. What's Crowley doing here anyway?

Penance by organizechaos (M)

Months after Armageddon, Aziraphale falls asleep in his bookshop and slips into a familiar nightmare: heaven finding out his particular romantic feelings for a particular demon. Their methods of punishment have never been kind and Aziraphale is forced to feel it all. Meanwhile, Crowley doesn’t know Aziraphale sleeps, or even dreams. Until now. Or: Aziraphale has a nightmare and Crowley comforts him

Ineffable, day to day by Azure_Swallowtail (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale have a quiet, peaceful existence in Soho, at least that's what it seems. Anxiety and nightmares plague Aziraphale's mind and his worries about heaven grow. Meanwhile, Crowley reminisces about his days as a Starmaker, and his feelings about Aziraphale. Will they ever be free from their sides, or will they make their own? Can they even do that?

a moment's silence by viperinz (T)

Crowley rubs a hand down his face, sighing. “Then you know that you shouldn’t have done that.” “It was the only choice I had. If you got smitten—” Aziraphale swallows, feeling his back throb in pain. “You would have died right where you stood. I could not allow that.” Crowley’s mouth turns into a thin line, his fury radiating through the room. “So, what? It was better if it was you rather than me that took the hit?” “Yes!” Aziraphale exclaims, sitting up in bed. He winces as his back protests the movement, but he needs Crowley to understand. “You deserve better than what I was able to ever give you, and you need to help Muriel and the Messiah. If I ceased to exist, nothing would change the outcome of stopping all of this.” “No, you don’t get to say that.” Crowley walks up to the bed. “If you think I’ll ever stand to lose you again, then you’re bloody wrong. The outcome would be different because I wouldn’t have you, you daft thing.”

After everything is said and done, Aziraphale has to learn to adjust to life on Earth after seven years of being in Heaven. Luckily, Crowley is there to help him heal, and to give him the love that he feels he's lost.

- Mod D

[bubblesandgutz]

Every Record I Own - Day 835: Minutemen Double Nickels on the Dime

If I were to lose my entire record collection in a fire, the first albums I would replace would be Miles Davis' In A Silent Way, Rolling Stones' Exile on Main St, Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks, and Minutemen's Double Nickels on the Dime. Of all those albums, Double Nickels has been in my life the longest.

It wasn't the first Minutemen album I owned (that would be the Post Mersh Vol 1 compilation) nor would it be the first Minutemen album that I really fell in love with (that would be Buzz or Howl Under the Influence of Heat), but it's the album that best encapsulates and captures all that I love about Minutemen.

With 45 songs at a runtime of over 80 minutes, it's a very dense album. As the San Pedro trio was fond of explaining, this was their "art album," which presumably means they were straying even further from the punk formula of their SoCal peers. Bassist Mike Watt ditched the pick and started playing with his fingers, nudging the band into funkier territories. Guitarist D. Boon revealed an aptitude with his instrument only hinted at on previous recordings and established his place as one of the greatest players in the punk scene. Drummer George Hurley slowed the tempos and leaned into the groove. There is very little on Double Nickels that sounds traditionally punk, unless you look back to the guitar dexterity of Television's Marquee Moon or the stabby rhythms of Gang of Four's Entertainment! To further confuse things, there were covers of Creedence Clearwater Revival, Van Halen, and Steely Dan on the album, and they blended in seamlessly with the original material.

It was a lot to process as a 15-year-old punk back in 1992. Minutemen had been big with my peer group in Hawaii, but I'd moved to Washington over the summer, and none of the punks or skaters I knew on the mainland gave two shits about the band. The "cool" factor for the band had disappeared in the move. But there was still something fascinating about Double Nickels, even if the music felt a bit unapproachable.

There was almost a kind of separate culture that surrounded Minutemen. Their vernacular was strange... a combination of SoCal surfer-speak, trucker slang, working class drawl, and literary sophistication. Their lyrics were both topical and cryptic. The incorporation of Raymond Pettibon illustrations in their album art added another layer of tension, mystery, and irreverence. They had a blue-collar aesthetic with a political bent and an art-minded approach. There simply wasn't another band that looked, sounded, or exuded the same aura as Minutemen.

There were Easter eggs hidden all over the album. Watt had just read Ulysses and seemed intent on mirroring the book's layers of meaning and sly humor (there's even a song called "June 16th" in homage to Bloomsday). The album title was a poke at Sammy Hagar's "I Can't Drive 55," with "double nickels" referring to the 55 mph speed limit and "the dime" referring to Highway 10, which leads into their hometown of San Pedro. The album cover, an homage to Kraftwerk's original Autobahn album art, captures Watt in his car with the speedometer at a steady 55 while the highway sign for the 10 is seen through the windshield. The sequencing of the album was an homage to Pink Floyd's Ummagumma with each member getting a side of the record to curate at their will and with all the remaining songs allocated to side D.

The music was a riddle in and of itself. Songs like "#1 Hit Song" and "Political Song for Michael Jackson to Sing" seemed to reinforce the album title's criticism of pop music's banality while basking in contradictions, such as the puzzling decision for Boon to drop a blazing guitar solo in the latter after singing "if we heard mortar shells, we'd cuss more in our songs and cut down on guitar solos." There's the intensely autobiographical "History Lesson pt 2" but also the self-referencing diss track "One Reporter's Opinion." The ominous and odd-timed "God Bows to Math" segues into the country two-step of "Corona." Hurley prioritized the clatter-and-scat of "You Need the Glory" as the opening to his side of the 2xLP over the power anthem of "Themselves."

And there were the lyrics to parse out. What's a punk kid supposed to make of lines like "me naked with textbook poems / spout fountain against the Nazis / a weird kind of sex symbol?" Or "the world was wrong and I was forced to march in line / but it felt like handcuffs / machines disregard my pronouns?" One moment it's "no hope / see, that's what gives me guts / big fucking shit / right now, man," but then it's "let the products sell themselves / fuck advertising / commercial psychology / psychological methods to sell should be destroyed."

I eventually made a commitment in November '92 to listen to Double Nickels in its entirety every day of the month. It was partially an endurance test. Could I do it? But it was also an attempt at deciphering what I was hearing. Surely this must all make sense somehow. And here I am 34 years later, still intrigued, mystified, and engaged by the album. I still hear something new every time I listen to it. There are still more in-jokes, references, and nuggets of wisdom to glean from it. It's a work of art that requires patience and attention, but it's also just a straight-up piece of celebratory joy and working class angst.

There's an entire world embedded in Double Nickels. It has its own language. It's own philosophy. It's own musical logic. It's own humor. It's own cultural reference-points. And it continues to be a world I want to visit on the regular.

[frequenceraph]

"Z is a bad character"

Xenoblade 1 and 3 spoilers incoming Ok so Z. I've seen so many people, mostly on twitter and reddit, complain about how this man is a bad character. The thing is though they're missing the point of Z. Z isn't supposed to be complex, he's a force created by origin as a response to the collective will of people to avoid confronting the inevitable collision and dissolution into light that the two worlds are destined for. He's a corrupting influence; an embodiment of the concept of the endless now. Z is compelling by means of the characters he influences. N is widely considered in the fandom to be an extremely well written character-- through the lens of one of the main characters' past lives, we get to experience the pain of loss that made him want to never have to lose anything anymore. Z is the fear of loss, and Noah choosing to confront Z and refuse to give in is him refusing to be afraid of losing the people he loves. He's lost Mio over and over, he had to leave his son behind, he's been unable to defeat moebius and break the cycle over and over, and Z-- his fear of loss-- eventually gets to him. These kinds of interactions make Z compelling and threatening. Z is a representation of the fear and vice that lives inside every single one of us. Even people who are extremely young like Joran can self sabotage and want to stay in a comfortable eternity when that's not the state that anything-- the world nor your interpersonal relationships-- can stay in. Joran is so mired in his assumptions that everyone of the main Keves party thinks he's useless that for a while he isn't able to escape the genuine abuse that he suffers at the hands of Moebius D. And that's Z at work. He (Joran's own assumptions and fears) has paralyzed Joran in a state of self loathing that he's inflicted on himself. There's also another aspect I think people ignore with regard to Z's relationship to past games. And that's that Z is a direct consequence of Shulk's decision at the end of Xenoblade 1 to walk towards the future hand in hand with everyone. Without a god to rule over them, people falling to their worst vices can directly influence the world. Z acts as a foil to Zanza in a sense, both serving as a demonstration of the flaws of a world with and without gods. Shulk's choice didn't result in utopia. There's always going to be something to fight for, and sometimes that thing is ourselves rather than some made up enemy. And that, I feel is the core message of Xenoblade 3. Given that western media has imbued us with the idea that characters need to be compelling in the same way that-- as hbomberguy said-- games need to be fun, it's easy to see why people would write off Z as being a bad character when they don't understand the broader context in which he exists. Like sure Z sits around and watches the main party do shit in a theatre in the middle of origin and that's all he does, but Z taking direct action would be against the spirit of his character. He (our internal vices, fear of change) operates through others, both figuratively and literally. We had to come to him in the final encounter because he-- from what I understand-- primarily exists in people's minds. TL;DR Z doesn't need to be a compelling character in the traditional sense. He's compelling by means of the characters he influences and what he represents; the flaws of a world without gods.

[snickerdoodlles]

Kim is my favorite character but Chay is the most special™️ boy in the universe :p that’s why I keep thinking of an AU where everything is mostly the same except that like in the Sandman there are anthropomorphic personifications of the fundamental concepts of the World (they are: Dream, Death, Destiny, Desire, Delirium, Despair and Destruction) and Chay is casually besties with Death, most people don’t know they even exist and the Mafia fam knows that there’s some kind of magic in the world but nothing more than that.

This comes out when they’re “casually” talking about some horrible thing that Korn did and Chay just looks at Kim and asks “if there was a way for him to die and have nobody be responsible for it, would you want him dead?” And he’s like “yeah, obviously” and Chay is like “okay! :D” and like two days later Korn just dies out of nowhere and nobody can prove it but everyone knows that Chay had something to do with it so Kim just asks and Chay just tells him he asked a friend to do him a favor and Kim is like “???” until Chay is like “yeah, that friend is literally the anthropomorphic personification of the concept of Death :D” everyone else is for some reason also there.

Chay doesn’t tell anyone this bc they would lose their shit if they knew but they met Death when they died accidentally when he was like 4 and when Death came to collect him, they just told her very politely that he couldn’t go with her bc that would made Porsche sad, she found him adorable and let him stay alive! They have been friends ever since.

Tankhun kind of knew that the personifications existed but never told anyone, he met Despair & Delirium when he was kidnapped :) to be fair he thought he was hallucinating.

I practically just told you my favorite daydream about those two 😂 tbf I thought you would find it interesting

-⏳💤💜

anon

anon I am kissing you on the forehead, this is DELIGHTFUL

Chay!!! as besties with Death!!!! Death a common friend to all but the deepest connection with CHAY. I love your day dream, I had in fact immediately pictured Korn's bloody ruthlessness being in part an effort to court Death for his own nefarious purposes, and Chay's like "oh? do you want to meet her then?" and Death arrives and gently tells Korn he's always had her attention, he never had to try to catch it, and Korn feels very smug about this until she holds out her hand and Korn realizes he's just dead and she means she knows everyone who passes through her lands eventually, he's not special.

(I hope!!! You do not mind me playing with your day dream! Yours is a beautiful idea, I hope I added and didn't impose 😂🙏)

but oh mannn, I'm right there with you in that Kim is my favorite but Chay is my most specialest boyTM, and I have a silly day dream for them too actually! I'm not sure if you've ever heard of the Wayward Children series by Seanan McGuire? it's a novella series centered around the concept of portal fantasy worlds, with a bunch of children who had gone to different alternate worlds and are now back on earth, trying to make a life after and several waiting/hoping to return to their worlds. I had actually first had a weird mashup of that series and bad buddy, but then kp came out and I fell down that rabbit hole and my brain shifted the day dream to accommodate Chay going to a different world where he'd gotten literal wings before he was returned to earth (reason typically being for Porsche). and something-somrthing happens, the exact reasons for this next bit change, but somehow he and the other boys are in danger, Chay's door opens again for him, and he drags all thr boys with him for safety and they all learn our boy is MagicTM. Kim is 😍 x100 obvs, he doesn't really care about the specifics he just cares about Chay lol. Porsche's reactions vary but usually around I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST A GAME WE PLAYED AS KIDS, and Kinn and Khun are just. Baffled. Mind blown. What the fuck is happening, this is very cool but still WHAT?!

[forlix]

hii!!

i want to talk about ace so badly

already from the intro i new this was gonna be my cup of tea, like college! au, sports! au and fake enemies to friends to lovers, please!!

o h   m y   g o d

i was so wrong

this is so much more than just a cup of tea for me. i want for time to stop, so i can read this again infinite times, i want this story permanently tattooed in my brain and flowing through my veins.

your writing is showstoping and phenomenal!!

i'm a sucker for good dialogue and you have outdone everyone there is to outdo. i'm so serious when i say this changed my life last night!!

today i'm going through it again and collecting my favourite moments (listed below) and i need you to know that this is such a perfectly written story in every way and i'm so grateful you decided to share it with the world.

thank you!! thank you!! thank you!! thank you!! thank you!!

here's a list of my favourite moments and dialogue lines (probably incomplete, because i truly believe i will find many more when i read this again and again in the future)

the first interaction is such a perfect opening for the story, love it!! (bonus - the little "got you" in italics, aldhsksjs)

"Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram." aaaaaaaaaaaa

coach bang. just in general. everything he does and says is incredible

"Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet." i was screaming in my pillow

"“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”"

"“I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”"

"“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!” “Yeah? Who was your last manager?” “Me!”"

hyunjin running away from minho, chef's kiss!!

"“Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”" aaahhh

"Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”" the whole banter and proximity during this scene, oh my!!

the whole phone call scene, alahskadjk, i had to stop after every two sentences and scream at the ceiling, especially after "“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”"

and don't get me started on "“But I do give a fuck about you.”"

"“Do you want to be alone?”"

the whole interaction in the gym is so, so great and sweet, and delicate it hurts!!

and the conversation between seungmin and hyunjin is so important to me. the realness of the friendsip and a fun bonus of their backstory, loved it soooo much!!

"It’s not awkward this time." STOP

yeah, just seungmin and hyunjin's friendship in general!!

"Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do." the parallels to the intro aahhh

and the parallel with coach and captain as well, i'm in love!!

"I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does." unreal, such a perfect ending!!

i don't have enough words in my vocabulary to express why this story is so amazing and important to me, but it's so delicate and real and incredible. it means more to me than you'll ever know!!

THANK YOUU

Dee

hi hi loveliest! allow me to first apologize for my late reply; i've read this ask so many times since u sent it that i could rehearse it back to u word for word at this point dkljfklsjfkl

thank YOU so much for reading and enjoying as much as you did, dee :') it was such a delight to learn your favorite parts, many of which were my favorites as well hehe (our synergy)!! and what an honor it is to be on the receiving end of praise so high as you wanting this story permanently tattooed in your brain & that i outdid everyone there was to outdo with my dialogue?? if i didn't already love the fic before, knowing it affected you this way has only amplified that sentiment infinitely <3

i've been relearning how to write for myself first and foremost these days, but i hope you know that comments like these really make sharing my writing feel so so worthwhile. i appreciate you an unbelievable amount for taking the time to leave me such a wonderful message! hope you are having a lovely day/afternoon/night cutie

(also: VERY happy u picked up on the coach/captain parallels. i was hoping ppl wouldn't think it was a typo that i said seungmin instead of minho at the start of the timeskip; that was supposed to imply that seung takes minho's spot as captain after he graduates hehehe. appreciate u all the more for noticing one of my favorite details!)

[anonymousj3ster]

Digital

Hallucination

Based off the song "Digital Hallucination

I slowly open my eyes, wincing as they are assaulted by the bright colors of my room. I sigh and sit up, automatically grabbing a black marker and drawing a dark vertical line on the wall, adding to the collection of depressing tallies. One tally for each day I've been here. 420 marks so far. I stare at the marks for a long beat, before dragging myself out of my bed and to the main area of the circus. I've been stuck in here for over a year, if only I could get away.

If only anyone would actually help me.

I wasn't even sure why I still bothered to try and keep track of time. I mean, for all I knew the time here passed differently than the time in the real world. Thats how most video games worked after all, right? A day in an average video game was only... what? 20 minutes? Or maybe time here took longer than the real world...? It didn't really matter, did it? Time is a hoax, in this colored world of jest.

"Maybe it's still just a dream... a really long dream." I mumble deliriously.

"My my, you still think that your dreaming?" A voice booms in front of me, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. My eyes snap up and focus on the pair of teeth in front of me. He always seemed in a weirdly good mood, for someone who was constantly tormenting everyone here. If I just knew what he was scheming...

"Nothing, my dear! Just our next adventure!" Caine announces. I frown. I hadn't realized I had said that last bit out loud. Had I? I pale a bit. Or had he read my mind?

"You look like you've seen a ghost!" He says, hovering closer to me and examining me with those mismatched eyes. "I know what will make you feel better! An adventure!" He shouts suddenly in my face.

"No, no!" I say quickly. "I just uh...need food." I lie, stepping past him.

"Well, if you say so my dear... your lucky to have such a gracious host like me, offering you an adventure!" He calls after me. I stop, feeling my eye twitch. "Your adventures don't help. They just make me scared...scared to lose myself here." I hiss softly, tilting my head over my shoulder to stare him down. He gives me a puzzled look, the top of his mouth raising like an eyebrow.

"But there is nothing to fear!" He reassures. "I can't take this anymore!" I snarl, shaking my head and walking away again. I storm down the hall, taking random twists and turns completely lost in my thoughts. After...I'm not sure how long, I finally snap out of it and actually take note of my surroundings. It looked infuriatingly just like all the other hallways: Blank walls with red doors, all equally spaced out in the long corridor. I sigh, about to turn around and attempt to find my way back-

"Is that...an exit door?" I whisper softly in disbelief. I slowly step toward it, keeping my eyes trained on the red rectangle, which looked so similar to the rest of the doors, except for one little detail: The big, white block letters. Exit. I take another step forward. How had I not seen it before? I approach slowly, like it was a startled animal that might flee if I made any sudden movements. I raise my hand slowly, taking hold of cold metal handle, hear pounding in my ears. Was this is? Could I finally leave? I open the door and step through-

Back into my bedroom. I freeze, completely confused. Was it just...my imagination? The exit that was my fixation? I shudder, remembering the exit door maze I had been caught in on my first day here. Door after door I found that it was just a digital hallucination. I try to find a way out, but I'm stuck here day after day inside a digital hallucination. I take a deep breath, trying to center myself.

Logic. Facts. Thats what kept me grounded, kept me sane. I take another deep breath, fumbling in my brain for some sort of information that could distract me, something I knew for certain existed- like the alphabet.

"A, B, C, D..." I whisper softly to myself. Letter. Letters in a name. I name I don't know. I don't know my name. Not even if I'm dead or if I'm just going insane.

"X D D C..." I mumble, before quickly cutting myself off. I sigh and glance around my room for any other kind of distraction. My pinwheel eyes snag on words. I inhale sharply, stepping towards the wall. There was writing there, writing I didn't remember putting there. Vowels and consonants.

'Save me.'

'Save us.'

'Save us all.'

I feel my breathing become more and more rapid as I slowly back away, grasping blinding for the handle of the door behind me. A normal door, the one to the hallway. My hand connects with it and I push it open, stumbling out and running down the hall until I feel like I can't breath. I gasp for air and lean against a wall for a moment, before collecting myself. I take a few shaky breaths before taking a few uncertain steps on equally shaky legs. I hesitate, before heading for the main area of the circus tent, where everybody else who was stuck here hung out. It didn't seem like a smart idea for me to be alone right now. I trudge out into the main area, glaring at the sharp colors.

"You still think your dreaming?" A snide voice snarks. I turn in the direction of it with a dark glare. Jax was leaning against a large block, seemingly arguing with Ragatha while Kinger stared at him. Off to the side, Zooble and Gangle seemed to be arguing too, Zooble fixing the ribbon character with an exasperated look. Ragatha scowls at Jax. "Theres nothing wrong with Pomni not accepting this yet. I mean, whats wrong with a little hope?" She turns toward me with a small smile. "You'll be ok Pomni. Believe me." I nod and try to return a weak smile in return, taking another shaky breath.

"You look like a ghost just saw you!" Kinger squawks suddenly. I flinch at the sudden noise.

"The sayings, "You look like you've seen a ghost", Hoo-ha." Jax grumbles, his yellow eyes flicking towards mine. "Your lucky to have whats left of your sanity- unlike this one." He drawls, pushing Kinger onto the ground. Ragatha glare at him, kneeling to help the chesspiece up.

"I-its just...I miss how the circus used to be." I hear Gangle whimper. "I-it just s-seems so...tragic now." Zooble sighs, seemingly annoyed though it was a bit hard to tell, seeing how their face was just a triangle with eyes. "Yup, so tragic how the circus lost it's magic." They mumble with biting sarcasm. I clench my jaw. It was like this everyday. Fighting. Laughing. Adventures. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. I can't take it anymore-

The air in front of me shimmers for a moment, before slowly solidifying to a hauntingly familiar sight.

Is that an...exit door? I hiss quietly, opening it. I can hear everyone else gasp and say things, but they sound impossibly far away. I walk in, slamming the door after me. But this time, instead of running through the endless maze, I walk, glaring darkly at every bright red door. Just my imagination? The exit that was my fixation? Door after door I slam open and close. Door after door after door after door after door after doorafterdoorafterdoorafterdoord̶o̸o̶r̵a̵f̷t̸e̸r̸d̴o̷o̸r̸-

I reach for the next handle, not pausing my stride, and end up slamming right into the door. I blink, slowly pulling myself out of whatever trance I was in. I frown at the door handle, grabbing it again, only to have my hand go straight through it, as if it wasn't even there. Like it was just a-

Digital hallucination.

Is this all just an amalgamation? Of my own fixation? Doomed to run through door after door just to find out it was all just a digital halluc̵̢͉̤̀i̸͎͉̰̼̽͗͐̽͠n̴̤͓̭͔̟̣̞͗͆̒̔̽̀̚͠a̶̢͖͖̩̭̹͛̇̚ţ̶͚͕̼̫̌ì̵̮̜͕̞̭̦͖̦͓̽̋͊̈̔̕ͅȍ̶̢̡̩̋̔̅n̶̼̬̠̿-

I want to find a way out, but I guess i'm just stuck here day after day inside this digital hallucination. I pound on the door, panic beginning to settle into my mind, until it finally opened. I run through it, adreniline pumping through my body as I open door after door, needing to get out NOW, even if I ended up back in that circus, with it's nauseating colors and lies and adventures and torment and dolls and chesspieces and games and dice and gambles of life and fake death and death and insanity and fear and numb pain-

This place that was just my imagination just a dumb fixation that was just a digital hallucination trying to find a way out but I'm stuck here daỳ̸̡̗̪ ̵̤̦̯̲̣̄̚a̵̤͚̯͂f̷͉̩̓̀͛̔̅t̴͍̙̗͗̐è̵̪͍̣̄̉͝r̸̖̈́́ ̵̠͎͕̈́͒̋̐ḍ̸̟̏͠ä̶̮̠̟̰̪́̚̕y̷̻̮̆ ̶̨̏̔̉̌͋ȉ̴̧̖̺͕̪̊̈́͠n̸̜̱͙͓̄͠s̶͙̰̮̣̑i̸̛̖̼̬̻̓̌d̸̪̹͖̤͙̋e̸̟̺̓̊͠ ̴̪̜͓̣̓̃t̴̡͖̜͐͊̃͋h̵̢̠̾̉̉͝i̴̼̳̍͒̆͒̍s̴̡̧̤͕̈́͊̇ ̵̱͛͐͝d̶̠̼̫͗i̷̦̓̿̈́ǵ̴̻̿ī̴̢͕̠̈͑̇t̸̗̣̋͒̇͐͘͜a̵̗̪̜̘̅̌̊̃ḻ̵̜̯͒͆̍ ̸̙͚̒h̴͍̼̔a̶̢̠̾͛̕l̷͚̣̣̙͇̿̈́͛͝l̶̨̫̼͔͋͜ú̸̡̘͖̘̅͆͘̚ͅc̸̼͕̹̭̠̃̌̈́i̵̬̮͒́̑̔̍ͅn̷̫̠̤͔͔̓̿̆̎̆a̴͎̝̯͍̾ẗ̷͙̽i̷̢̹̗͓͋̔̂͠o̶̞͙̫̪̙̔̏̏n̷̩̗̭͛͊

"G̵̡͚̤͓̼̫̱͉͓̽͛̌͑͂̓̅̓̔̽́̇��͚̰E̵̛̺̲̳͕̣͂̉̈́̈́̍̈́̚͜͝T̷͓̓̊ ̵̡͈̜͍̬̋̈͛͋̅̔̀M̸͕͖̰̱̫̲͈͑̎̇̇̅̈́͘Ę̵̲͖̪̗̫͇͌̃̑̐͒̓͑̆̀̀͘͘̚ ̸̼̍̈̓̍̔͝O̷̹̤̪̹̠͍̣̭͙̻̞̅͆͒̎̎̈́̓̅͑̅͘U̴͖̲̫̬̺̞͍̳̔̍̐̈̈̔̚͜Ṯ̷̼̞͔͖͈̗͈͈̤̺̠̓͐̽́͊͋̐̉̒́͘ ̵̻̠̳̟̒̇̈́̇̀̕̚͝Ȏ̵̡̦̝͇͎̟̮̦̻̥̞̉̒̌̊͗̆̽̚͜͝F̵͈̰̪̍̏͝ͅ ̴̮̗̭̲̏̐̒̉H̵̺̘̬͍̞͍̪̓E̸̢̖̹͓̹̥̼̐̽͑͠R̶̭͔̞̈́̍̒̆̆͜E̵͉̟̎͂͒̑̎͛̒͂͑͆̏!" I scream, leaning against the next taunting exit door, pounding at it with my fists. "Let me out...just let me out..." I beg nobody. "I'll stay in there, just let me out of here!" I sink to my knees sobbing, screaming and slamming my head against the rectangular monster until it gives me a headache and changes my strangled sobs to bubbling laughter that never stops.

[arcstral]

He feels ill at ease here.

Lumera– Mother had meant well when she'd sent him away. He understands this, else he might not have acquiesced in the first place; reluctant to be separated from the person who had shown him such kindness despite being Father's foremost enemy. Treated like her trueborn child knowing full well they are closer to night and day. But to be alone in a faraway land, even in the interest of his safety now that he has done the previously unthinkable and turned his back on both Father and Gradlon... A metaphorical pit forms in his stomach at the thought.

(This academy's standard of dress bears very similar coloration to his previous attire. He has yet to decide whether it is a comfort or an unfortunate reminder of the past he has only just left behind.)

Alear freezes in his tracks. Cautious stoicism nearly falling away in an instant as scarlet eyes glimpse the all-too familiar shade of brilliant azure in his periphery, gloved fingers instinctually feeling for a ring that is most assuredly still with its siblings in Lythos before daring to venture closer. It couldn't possibly be...

And indeed it is not– not Emblem Marth, that is. The man in question is solid. Tangible. Absent of the aura emitted by a spiritual form, with his feet planted firmly upon the earth. But the visage is undeniably his regardless of these facts. He is the Hero-King, in the flesh. Even if the how and why are reasons unknown to a once-tool of the Fell Dragon.

Blue suits him far better than red ever had, Alear thinks.

"Marth. That is your name, is it not? ... You remind me very much of someone else. I couldn't help but stare."

               '—I'm afraid your path has chosen you.'

               At fourteen years of age with two feet clapped over the threshold between child and man, the words of Malledus tipped him over that fateful edge. In the context of a different land known as Archanea- submerged so thickly in unremitting war one could not see the future- it meant that Marth need fulfill his utmost duty and meet the darkness ahead without turning back for Elice; in the more merciful context of this one, Fòdlan, it means only that fate possesses a curious way of bringing two people together. Just as much as it might acquaint a princeling with the clauses of his lifetime onus, it nudges him ever so mysteriously toward a fellow who stirs him into longing before they might exchange a single word.

              Time slows as if caught in the neck of a funnel. Losing all speed and elasticity as his eyes raise to meet a young man stopped in his tracks; a sight that makes Marth freeze in tandem. He blinks, appraising the strange feelings collecting beneath his skin. The hall isn't totally empty at this hour and life continues on; it wheels past two men, two strangers who rebuff the courteous etiquette of assimilating into a crowd. At last Marth shakes his head, casting off the haze and stepping their conversation to the side. "Indeed... and I believe I know your name as well. You are Alear, the recently arrived Divine Dragon Monarch from Elyos. Another one at that."

               Red to the west and blue to the east divvies the head before him into two territories. Already that sight is familiar. His eyes travel down instinctively to the other's vacant hand as if in expectation of something; as if to sight the band of sapphire-encrusted gold that twisted around another finger; but the Alear that stands before him is different from the woman that shares his colors. Even the flickering shadows and solid planes of his face.  

              "In that vein, I must confess I am the same. If you do not mind my saying so; you also remind me of someone. The girl who arrived before you under the same name. Like her, your words suggest our acquaintance beyond my memory of the fact; beyond my understanding." The steadiness of the Hero-King nevertheless points to his adjustment, that he is not entirely shocked at the insinuations or even the point-blank declarations of his adjacency to a spirit sharing his face and name. To deny the truth would run him ragged, it is easier for a human mind simply to believe; to adapt beneath a crushing weight rather than reject it; but he cannot deny the element of bias that accompanies his acceptance as well.

               Because standing before the one known as Alear feels proper, but more importantly, it feels right. Like a friend he has been waiting a thousand years to receive, the sight of this calm young ruler puts him at rest for reasons that deny logic or sense. He cannot help the idea; if a fateful path has chosen Marth, then it is this meeting that has chosen them. "But no matter. Even if that should be the case, memories are but memories..." Words of acquiescence and friendship flow as easily as water for the fact, falling into old steps, forging new ones, on the offering of a solid hand warm to the touch. A warm crinkling of two blue eyes at their corners as fingers overlap in friendly betrothal. Engaged.

               "—Bonds can be reforged time and time again. That is the welcome way of things is it not, Alear? Welcome to Garreg Mach."

[nerdyenby]

Pink time :D I’m watching Scar

Pregame

I’ve literally watched three scar videos today but I’ve missed him so much <333

I forgot Tubbo and Scar were called slushie duo :(( /pos

Scar praying to Scott for a desertduo buildmart 😭

Boatem team isn’t a want it’s a need

Scar’s “Is that a bad boy??” when he sees Joel across the lobby

“It says ‘gullible’ on the ceiling” “Does it? No, it says ‘3’” “… don’t worry about it” Beky and Tubbo my beloveds

Parkour Tag

Did Ant just say he was… tossing??

It’s literally the bare minimum but people using they/them for Aimsey means everything to me

SCAR SURVIVAL!!!!!

This team’s comms are insane :D

Beky supremacy!!!!

“Vex on vex violence!!” “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN” slushie duo is everything actually

They’re so good at encouraging and hyping each other up :))

Tubbo first swear in the first game lmao

HOW DID THAT WORK????

BEKY SUPREMACYYYYYY!!!!!

Pink parrots 2nd in parkour tag????? They’re so cool <333

Rocket Spleef

Immediate Ant swear lol

Was collecting data for this entire game so I have nothing else to say except sorry for being so neurodivergent today /j

Why do they want sot early??

Sands of Time

I talk fast too so keep in mind that I’m a hypocrite but Ant stresses me out so bad in sot, he’s not even doing anything wrong he just always sounds so frantic that it freaks me out a lil

Tubbo seems a lil high strung rn ngl

Okay yeah, this team is lacking in confidence, I fully believe they could do well but they were all so frazzled and this was a hard sands

Sky Battle

Why is Tubbo so mean to blue??? I know it’s not mean spirited but like, cmon man

Tubbo and Ant are so stressful to listen to 😭

Scar and his barn strat my beloved <333

“I got a kill!!…… myself..” Scar 😂

“They’re not coming from our right, I got that on lock” Scar mvp

Yo they won!!!

Tubbo losing his absolute mind and Scar just “uh hey guys? We won”

Scar’s face when we have the 6th swear by the start of halftime 🙃 lmao

Slushie time :D

Ace Race

“I’m gonna fail at that- I didn’t!!! Did you see that confidence?” So true Scar

“Unfortunate times with Scar today”

Ant saying Scar’s toe tip helped and getting first :))

Battle Box

Ant is such a tryhard /pos

I could not care less if it’s actually concrete, it’s always gonna be wool in our hearts <33

STOP TRASH TALKING BLUE I WILL CHEW YOUR CABLES

Wool time :D

Beating the top three teams and almost no one else is so iconic of them

The way Ant tries to give Tubbo a compliment and he says “No, definitely not” 😂

Grid Runners

It feels like they’re just breezing through these rooms lol

That golf was so clean

Why are Tubbo and Beky saying everything twice lol

Their push-up comms are so painful, it wasn’t bad just chaotic

“Dyslexic duo had some trouble with the hints”

TGTTOSAWAF

Team bonus!!!!

Scar top 15 both rounds so far!!!

“There are like no coins between fourth and fifth” “There’s literally no coins in this game”

Dodgebolt

Tubbo’s commentary 😂

Toby doing the absolute most to avoid acknowledging Ranboo’s existence sure is something lol

Talking about how both of these teams deserve this win is so real

Everyone cheering on False :D

This team wanting a replay :))

[bambisnc]

magnetic [or, riize when they have a crush on you <3]

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : crack + fluffff cw/tw : food mention + littol bit rushed n uneditted D: wc : im guessing maybe 400ish? -> update its 495!

shotaro : he would be SO chill you probably wouldn't have a single clue if he had a crush on you; ever so gentlemanly and charming on a daily basis, he'd probably flirt here and there but make it seem so easy and effortless </3 BUT on the other hand i totally also see taro going out of his way to impress his crush and have their attention on him by flaunting those extremely admirable performance skills of his (among numerous others!!)

eunseok : laid back king. (quote unquote) in his case also, you would not be aware of his feelings despite him dropping hints left and right but his expression is somehow always just so ... unreadable?!?! seems all cool and collected but he's secretly one of those people who'd ananlyse each and every word you say to him/text you send like "they sent me a heart emoji..... they want me fr......." he isn't wrong to be fair, but still-

sungchan : he'd be so !! enthusiastic around you !! hyperactive af, if he has a crush it'd be pretty obvious; he wants it to be known honestly. needs the person who has captured his heart to know it + would for sure do all that he can to spend as much time with you as he can, get into all the extra curriculars or hobbies you're into; basically the type of guy to watch one piece in like 2 days max if his crush is into anime yk?

wonbin : u guys remember the "he wanted to appear mysterious" comment from the official acc on that one tiktok ?? yeah he for sure would want to appear all distant, reserved and have and air of mystique around him + he's lowkey good with just admiring you from a distance (complete opposite of a certain someone, yes) + you would probably catch him staring at you across rooms rather often and blushing and looking away if you happen to catch his wandering gaze .. <3

seunghan : ah yes our resident hopeless romantic daydreamer extraordinaire 𖹭 i so see him lost in thoughts and fantasies, with a wide array of scenarios featuring his beloved (you) and him like 25/8 it's definitely obvious that he likes someone to everyone around him.. + the cutest when trying to interact with his crush, would pull out the most adorably awkward compliments and the cutest (slightly cringey) pick-up lines but the sheer earnestness he does it with is so swoon-worthy </3

sohee : the playful one !! think teasing remarks, a number of not so subtly implied ideas of verily not platonic acts but he's able to get away with keeping the crush a secret with how well established he'd ensure himself as being a "really good friend".. also definitely one of the clingiest ones; would want to be near his person as much as he can and if he can't you just know he's spam calling/texting them - he just wants to ensure that he's on your mind okay?!

anton : cutie is going to be such a bundle of nerves, the classic nervous, shy, blushy type !1!1 he'd lose his composure around you so often and end up tripping on thin air on numerous occasions; but on the other hand, him not being able to think very clearly around you would also mean that he end up doing rather bold things such as those which he'd never catch himself doing normally + wouldn't mind being in uncomfy situations to be able to support/comfort you ,,

notes : we're so back (school hates me) + kyssing its been 2 days and i spelt THE TITLE WRONG + [m.list] song rec : this time i want you, you, you , you like it's magnetic - illit <3

𐙚 . tags : @nicholasluvbot @totheseok ⋆

[floralespers]

She definitely does have some impressive feats, though we may disagree on who gets to do more! But I see what you mean about her personality, and I agree with you there! I wish Kubo would have given her more opportunities to shine - I'm hoping that as we get further in the rewatch (we are in the middle of the Arrancar arcs, just hit Byakuya vs Zommari, so some of the very negative ways Rukia is handled are fresh in my mind) that we get to see more of what we keep getting told: that she's a powerful soul reaper.

What I expect personally is that I won't get to see her take action until the Fullbringer or TYBW arcs - and granted, I haven't read those arcs since the manga finished like over 10 years ago.

I guess in short I like Rukia a fair deal, I just wish Kubo gave her more opportunities to succeed. I can't count the number of times on our pod we've collectively been frustrated over Rukia losing a fight - not just for the fight's sake but because we love Rukia and it too often feels as though Kubo just won't let her get a win. Every time she gets a good moment we collectively cheer, we LOVE to see Rukia winning.

Thanks for taking the time to respond! I understand what you were going for now and I appreciate you answering :D

Kubo accidentally creating one of the most rounded three-dimensional female characters in all of shounen (Rukia) and making her the deuteragonist without ever sexualizing her or making her the protagonist's love interest or have healing be her main job is such a puzzling mistake, how did that happen?

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, so first of all I want to say thank you for your work so much!! I've just found this account and I've already found so many interesting fics. And second - can you recommend any fanfiction with maybe Crowley getting kidnapped or something and Aziraphale going absolutely badass and basically reminding everyone that he's not the sweet cinnamon roll everyone thinks he is. Or something similar, if that's too specific. Preferably with some love confessions.

Hello and you’re welcome! You’ll want to check out our #kidnapping and #bamf aziraphale tags for loads more fics like this. Here are a few more to add to out collection...

Come not between an angel and his wrath! by Augenblickgotter (T)

Crowley is jumped, kidnapped, and almost joyridden back to Hell in his own Bentley. Lucky for him his Angel won't stand for that. Bonus, Shakespearian quotes.

Like A Force To Be Reckoned With by allonsy_gabriel (T)

Contrary to popular belief, Crowley wasn’t an idiot. In fact, he’d go as far as to say that he was, typically, quite clever.

( Anyone could lose the antichrist, really, and that wasn’t even his fault. No one had told him that there was a fucking third baby involved in that whole cabal.)

So when he received a message from Aziraphale that simply said In need of assistance, meet me at Piccadilly Circus station , Crowley knew it was a trap.

Lured by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Aziraphale comes home to an empty cottage, a blood trail, and a ransom note. Meanwhile, Crowley realizes that he’s being used as bait to lure Aziraphale into a trap. Will they be able to rescue each other?

You and No Other by Sodium_Azide (M)

A duke of Hell with a grudge drags Crowley Below. Aziraphale does what he deems necessary.

Through the Shards of the Looking Glass by Vecieminde (M)

“Who did this to you?” he finally settles on the question.

The demon is clearly reluctant to answer, his bleeding lip becoming the victim of his teeth. Neither does he meet Aziraphale’s gaze. The angel sighs, gesturing around the room. He needs information, now.

They wanted something out of this demon as well.

Aziraphale freezes instantly at the thought and when he looks up, he can tell that Crowley knew every word that ran through his head.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I would never — I could never —I am so sorry. I am so sorry I wasn’t here on time.”

~~~

Aziraphale cannot let go of the missed opportunity after the bombing of Blitz. He must find Crowley but when the door to the demon’s flat falls open and silence is all that greets him, Aziraphale fears he might have been too slow.

Who wants to live forever by orphan_account (NR)

Back when it was still only a few weeks after their Apocawasn’t, everything was for the most part, calm.

No demons stalking anybody throughout the city streets, no angels flying down from the heavens to strike anyone down with their silly white wings flapping.

But then, that calm broke.

Mind the tags and warnings, especially on those last three!

- Mod D

[bocje-ce-ustu]

the eclipse fandom, september 16th-23rd: enthusiastically shares meta and fic about the akkayan kiss

the eclipse fandom, september 23rd-30th: *blurry eyesight, sniffling* enthusiastically shares meta about akk being so WHIPPED he fantasized in 1080p

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Can I get some more diluc voicelines? Like just general things

Sorry it took so long! I just didn't know what to write at all. (And I still don't know if I wrote something right). But in any case, I hope you like it!

~

Just Diluc's voice lines addressed to his wonderful partner

~

"Hello": "Oh, it's you. It's good to see you. I can't say I like working in a tavern, considering all these drunks around, but the thought of having to run so far to come to the distillery is even more unbearable. So come more often, you make my work not so terrible"

"Relax": "Huh? Do I need to relax? Don't be silly, the shift ends only in two hours... W-wait, where are you dragging me?!. Ah, well, I'll lie down for a while. But if it's inconvenient for you to stand behind the counter and serve customers, just tell me!"

"When it rains": "Take my coat instead of an umbrella, I don't want you to get wet. What? Are you warm? I'm glad. Ah-h?.. Does it smell like me? D-don't say such embarrassing things out of the blue!"

"Sun is out": "Such days are ideal for outdoor training. No, no, I would never prefer my "night job" to you. Just thinking out loud, don't pay attention, spark"

"Wind is blowing": "It's getting chilly. Come on, come here. I know, I know, I said I didn't want to show our relationship. But I can't let you get sick. So hurry up and come to me and hide under your coat. Do you mind if I hug you and hold you to my chest?"

"Good morning": "Good morning, spark. You look cute with disheveled hair. I can help you put them in order... eh? Do you want to stay in bed a little longer? Then you'll have to hug me tighter."

"Good afternoon": "Time is running fast. It's already day. How are you, spark? Do you want some grape juice? Here, you can drink from my glass. Don't worry, I have more”

"Good evening": "Without you, every minute seems longer than it really is. I'm glad that we can finally relax just the two of us. Am I talking like a typical romantic from a book? D-don't be silly!"

"Good night": "Good night, (Y/N). I love you. See you tomorrow. Oh, by the way, feel free to take my blanket if you get cold. I'm not freezing. A? C-can you hug me instead? I guess nothing terrible will happen"

"Interesting things": "Did you know that the bigger and richer the alcohol, the greater the percentage of cocoa should be in chocolate with it? M? Do you want to try? Then I will definitely try to bring you some after the next business trip."

"Diluc's hobbies": "Did you bring the painting? (Y/N), you know I don't collect works of art… Oh, so you painted this landscape? Your skills are impressive as always, I thought it was the work of a professional artist. Ok, I'll add one piece of art to the house collection just for you"

"Diluc's troubles": "Sometimes it seems to me that you can be attacked at any moment. I will only turn away, and my rivals and enemies will pounce on you. Yes, yes, I know that you can stand up for yourself, spark. But I'm still worried, you know? I can't... lose you too."

"Birthday": "It's amazing how fast time runs. So you're one year older. M? Do you feel sad about this? No need, (Y/N). This date only means that we spent a wonderful year together and will spend as much more. Come on, smile. Yes, that's it. You know... every time I see your smile, I fall in love with you even more. Hmm? Yes, you're not the only one making me blush, spark. Well, now... shall we go see the gift?

[softiem]

you used to paint his skies (pt. 2)

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader

overview: The one in which Bokuto is still swearing up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.

word count: ~4.3k

content warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, MSBY!Bokuto, mildly suggestive scene at the end (no nsfw), our baby Bokuto kind of loses it at the end, don’t let the fluffy interludes deceive you again

notes: I’M SO SORRY FOR LITERALLY BEING DEAD FOR 6 MONTHS,,, Here’s the second part to “you used to paint his skies” :D (I think this is better than part one — at least I hope so). Some people asked to be tagged for this second part, so those will be below. Thank you for reading, darlings ʕ ´•̥̥̥ ᴥ•̥̥̥`ʔ <333

part one.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Baby?”

Faint sniffles came from Bokuto, whose head was currently nestled on your lap, the two of you strewn across the sofa. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, as if he were afraid that holding you any looser would cause you to disappear from his arms. His voice was quiet, meek — nothing like the loud, boisterous ball of energy you’d grown to adore, to cherish.

To fall in love with.

Now, here the both of you were, a pile of cracked and fragmented pieces of the love you once shared, desperately grasping at whatever you could salvage from the mess.

You hummed a response.

“Are we gonna be okay?” Bokuto turned his head, his eyes staring up at you — wide, teary, and filled with a broken sense of hope.

In an attempt to avoid breaking down a third time, you cleared your throat. You still couldn’t look down at him, into his eyes that seemed to praise your very existence, even after the pain you caused.

“Please.” His voice cracked.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Kou-Bokuto.”

He bit his lip roughly, enough to bite into the skin and draw a slight trace of blood. Choking on a weak sob, he nestled his head into your stomach once more. He couldn’t stop you from calling him that name anymore; he’d lost that privilege.

What could he have been asking for? For you to simply just call him your Koutarou again? For you not to leave him and stay in his arms? For you to kiss him and wipe those tears running from his pretty eyes as you tell him you’ll love him forever, no matter what?

Quite honestly, Bokuto didn’t know what he was asking of you; he didn’t know what he wanted from you.

The only thing running through his mind was the fact that he’d just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him.

You.

You, the love of his life. He knew you like the back of his hand.

He knew how, despite your small tendency to be romantically constipated, you tried your best to love him — even to the point of using stupidly cheesy pet names for each other.

– – – – –

“Please, baby!” Bokuto had your hands tightly grasped in his. “I swear, if you do this for me, I won’t ever ask you for anything else for the rest of my life — okay, that’s a lie because I really want ice cream after this, but you know what I mean!”

“Kou.” You drew in a breath. “I’m saying yes to the ice cream later, but those are the cheesiest pet names I have ever heard of.”

You saw the way Bokuto visibly deflated as he heard your soft rejection of his idea.

For the rest of the night (after stopping by the store and getting yourselves two tubs of ice cream, of course), the two of you sat cuddled up on the sofa half-paying attention to whatever B-list movie was recommended to you. Occasionally, you would hear Bokuto let out a deep sigh, most likely to try and guilt trip you into doing what he asked of you earlier.

Turning your head to face him, you grinned at the little pout on his lips as his eyes bore holes into the TV screen.

“Hey, Kou.”

Nothing. His attention stayed glued to the TV. The only sign that showed he’d heard you was the deepening of his pout.

“Koutaro, pretty boy. I’m talking to you,” you giggled.

Still nothing. You racked your brain for all of the possible ways this could end — every one of them resulted in the same thing.

Sighing, you brought up a finger to poke at his cheek. “Hey, dovey.”

If Bokuto were a dog, his ears would have stood straight up and his tail would have started wagging as he whipped his head around to look at you.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his eyes wide and sparkling and the corner of his lips twitching, just barely restraining a smile.

When you didn’t reply, his fingers prodded at your side — a promise to tickle you if you didn’t humour him right now.

“Say it again! Who am I?”

“You’re my dovey.”

“And who are you?”

You struggled to fight the urge to curl up into yourself as you answered him, “I’m your lovey.”

“And what are we together?” Bokuto brought his face closer to yours, his eyes going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

“We’re lovey dovey.” You completed it with a pair of awkward jazz hands.

With that, Bokuto’s face split into a blinding smile as his laughter rang through the living room. He brought you tight into his arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, lovey!” Your cheeks grew warm as you were subjected to his rain of kisses on your face. 

Pulling him in for one last kiss to your lips, you whispered, “I love you so much, Kou.”

– – – – –

He knew how he was always the first thing on your mind; you’d put him as your first priority without fail, no matter how busy you were, even when he hadn’t put you as his.

– – – – –

Bokuto stared up at the crisp, white ceiling — hospitals were never a fun place to be in. He was broken from his thoughts when the door to his room burst open, revealing you in your ever-ethereal work clothes rushing toward him.

“Babe! Are you alright?” Stopping at the side of his bed, you brought his hand up to place a kiss on his knuckles.

Bokuto let out a light laugh as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Yeah, it’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing to worry about, honey.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing to worry about’? Your coach said that you’d have to be out for two weeks!”

“That’s not too much! It’s not like I’ll be missing the whole season, angel.”

“But, Kou, you also have to–”

Bokuto stopped your worried rambling as he pulled you down, giving you a soft kiss on your lips and cheeks. He gave you a smile.

“Stop worrying, baby! Everything will be fine because I have the cutest, smartest, and kindest nurse to help me recover, right?”

“And who’s that?” You sent him a teasing look as your hands shuffled through your pockets looking for your phone.

“You, silly!” He paused before staring up at you in concern. “You are going to take care of me, right, baby?”

“I don’t know about that, Kou. Work has been hectic lately.” You pulled out your phone.

“But I’m injured! And I’m your boyfriend too! You can’t just leave your injured boyfriend alone to fend for himself! Baby!” Walking away from his bed, you exited the hospital room, tapping away on your phone.

A few minutes passed before you returned, seeing Bokuto sulking in the hospital bed, a familiar pout on his lips.

Your eyes softened as you gave him a smile. “Guess who just got two weeks off?”

– – – – –

The foundation of your relationship was built upon the fact that the two of you knew each other like no other; you loved each other like no other.

So how had everything culminated into such a mess?

“Bokuto.” You felt the way his body stiffened as you called his name.

“Yes,” he hesitated, “honey?”

“Do you remember what I told you a couple years ago? About what I thought of love?”

Feeling a prickling sensation in his nose, Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out a few tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

His voice came out hoarse and weak as he whispered, “I could never forget.”

– – – – –

The sky was enveloped in a cloak of darkness, but not even the onslaught of exhaustion could prevent the two of you from leaning back on the picnic blanket to stare up at the shimmering stars.

“Baby?” Bokuto turned his head to where you lay beside him. You hummed in response, half of your attention taken by the stars.

“What do you think about love?”

You raised an eyebrow, rolling onto your side to fully look at your boyfriend.

The moonlight casted harsh shadows on his face, but the way he looked at you — eyes sparkling with curiosity and the corners of his lips curled into a light smile — softened the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“Where did that question come from?” You raised a hand to lightly trace over the curves and slopes of his face; your thumb caressed his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“Answer my question first, and then I’ll tell you.” His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at you. “Deal?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Hm, three kisses please,” you said, wiggling three of your fingers.

Bokuto laughed, indulging you with a kiss to both of your cheeks and a final kiss to your lips.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled. “You asked me what I think about love?”

He nodded.

“Well,” you sighed, turning back to face the midnight sky above you, “I think that love is like the sky — the sun, to be specific. It’s always changing, and everything is so unpredictable about it. There’s so much potential for destruction in what the sky holds. But, there’s always one constant. Do you know what it is, Kou?” You looked at him.

“What is it, angel?” His golden eyes glimmered, as if they were holding stars themselves.

Adjusting your position on the picnic blanket (you curled closer into Bokuto, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders), you continued, “It’s the sun. No matter how much it rains or snows or whatever weather catastrophe is happening, the sun is always going to be there. Sure, you can have multiple suns like those Star Wars planets, but…” you trailed off, looking into his eyes. “... I think I’m happy with my one sunshine.”

Bokuto, ever the romantic, pulled you into a nearly-bone-crushing hug as he laughed into your shoulder. After peppering kisses to your neck and jaw, he pulled away to look at you. He sported the brightest smile, but something sparkled behind those eyes of his.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re getting cheesier than me.”

You groaned, leaning away from him, “Shut up, Kou!”

He giggled before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Now let’s get home before these mosquitoes eat us alive, honey.”

“And then you’ll tell me where you got that question from?”

“Of course, honey! I never break a deal!”

– – – – –

How could he forget what you said? Every word you’ve ever spoken to him, he’s grasped onto like a lifeline, as if they would be your last. He was so close to bursting — so close to pulling himself off of your lap, looking into your pretty eyes, grasping your shoulders, and yelling at you, screaming at you, asking why you would think he could ever forget anything about you. How dare you think he could ever forget anything about you?

But he couldn’t do that. Not to you. Not anymore.

He didn’t realise that you’d gone silent — his world had gone silent — until your sniffles broke his reverie. His arms tightened around your waist as his head nuzzled into your stomach once again; it was a broken act of comfort.

“Honey,” the edges of his voice cracked as he called out for you. “Talk to me. Please. Don’t… don’t stay quiet.”

Being met with another bout of silence was almost excruciating. Bokuto was struggling to keep himself together, to keep his head above the water before he drowned in his thoughts of losing you.

He launched himself up from your lap, grabbing your face with shaky hands. He had tears running down his face once again. His face was blotchy, and his hair was a mess. He was a mess.

“Please, lovey,” he whispered. If you stayed silent just one minute longer, he’d collapse. He was sure of it. Fighting the urge to just sit himself in your lap, pull you tight against him, and beg you not to leave, Bokuto settled with caressing the skin under your shirt.

Finally, you broke the silence.

“I forgot to tell you one thing that night.” You moved your hand from where it was resting in his hair back to your side; he tensed at the loss of your touch.

He swallowed, his anxiety began to pile up once again. “What’d you forget, baby?”

“Even though the sun” — your voice cracked — “is a constant, sometimes it can be too much. Burn too bright and dry up everything underneath the sky. Sometimes...” you paused to take a deep breath, trying to swallow back the lump that was growing in your throat. “Sometimes the sun can do even worse harm than anything the sky could do.”

Bokuto could feel the gradual increase of his heartbeat. He shook his head, his fingers involuntarily digging into your skin. No, no, you didn’t mean that. You couldn’t mean that. If you did he… he didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto,” you murmured, “I can’t stay here any longer.”

You tried to pry yourself out of his grip, but he wouldn’t relent. His arms were shaking as he pulled you even closer into him. He was whispering something to himself.

“Bokuto, I’m being serious.” You tried to keep your voice stable but failed miserably — it all came out shaky, your tone uneven. “Let me go.”

His whispers grew louder until you could finally understand what he was saying.

“No, no. This isn’t real. I love you. I love you. No, don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I love you.”

You called his name. Once, twice, thrice. As you called for him, his whispers grew to full-blown cries.

“Bokuto!”

“I’M SORRY DON’T LEAVE ME!”

But the only thing your eyes chose to focus on was the trail of red and purple leading down his neck.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes, a feeling that had grown familiar to you in the past few hours.

Bokuto caught the wandering of your eyes down his neck, a faraway mist muddled the irises he loved gazing into; he realised what you were staring at, forcing down a choked sob. He clenched his jaw, violently cursing himself for making you feel like you weren’t enough, like you weren’t the one keeping him standing straight.

Like you weren’t his sun, moon, stars, and whatever else you filled the fucking sky with.

He gently moved your head, trying to get you to look back into his eyes and away from the bruised mistake that marred his skin. His thoughts only filled with one thing — “Come back to me, baby.”

Waves of relief crashed against him once you met his eyes.

“Baby– Angel– I’m so– I don’t– Please–” Bokuto struggled to keep his thoughts straight. Not when you stared at him with an iciness that pierced his heart every time he looked back into your eyes, hoping to find even the smallest trace of love left for him.

He let out a rough sigh, frustrated with his inability to speak through the racing of his heart. His hands, still cupping your face, lightly squeezed your cheeks to ground himself. He looked back to you, his eyes swimming with even more tears, trying to send a message to you that he couldn’t put into words.

You looked away from him, focusing on the ticking clock on the wall as you gnawed your lip. A question had been running through your mind ever since he cracked into your resolve to leave and pulled you to the sofa, laying his head in your lap.

Your eyes turned back to him.

“Can you tell me something, Bokuto?”

“Yes, yes, baby, of course. I’ll do anything you want.” He eagerly nodded, a small spark of hope sparkled within him.

“Why’d you lie?”

He felt as though you just dumped him into one of Atsumu’s god-awful ice baths.

“What’re you saying, angel?” His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Earlier,” you croaked. “I asked you earlier how long you’ve been” — you couldn’t say that word; it’d hurt too much — “messing around.”

A glint of recognition passed his eyes.

Continuing, you forced your voice out, even though it grew weaker the more you tried to hide your pain, “You said that it was just this once. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it?”

Fuck. Bokuto took his hands away from your face, opting to grasp one of your hands in his. He gave your knuckles a kiss before looking back at you, his eyes teeming with unadulterated guilt and desperation.

“I-I knew them before this ever happened. We met at one of the team parties, but you weren’t there because you were at work.” He saw a glimpse of darkness shadow over your face, and his heartbeat picked up again (not that it ever really settled). “But we never did anything! Not until last night, at least.” His voice grew quiet at the end.

“And never once did it occur to you to tell them that you were taken?”

Bokuto’s lips started trembling — no doubt he’d begin crying again. He looked down, trying to avoid your glare, but his grip on your hand never loosened.

“Please, baby. I’m so sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up in the worst way possible. But I promise you, I never did anything with them before. We just talked at that one party. I promise you that. I promise, honey.”

The look in your eyes became even colder, even more distant; something akin to hatred was present as well. No, this couldn’t be happening. His worst nightmare was coming true. You’d finally learned the truth and were going to leave him. You might have called him your sunshine that one night two years ago, but, to him, you were his oxygen — without you, he was truly nothing. Just a corpse of a man, not worth wasting a breath on.

He was losing you. Again.

“I’m leaving, Bokuto.” You roughly pulled your hand from his grasp, ignoring his cries for you to please stop, to listen for just a minute longer. “Don’t you dare try to look for me.”

Bokuto whimpered, following you to where you were trying to pick up your bags in your haste of anger. Once again, he tugged at the straps, trying to steal them away from you, but his arms grew weak at the scowl pointed his way.

His breath quickened, and his heart raced. He was panicking, grasping at straws to have to rethink your choice and stay with him so he could apologise for the rest of both of your lives. He’d spend the remainder of eternity begging for your forgiveness if only you’d just stay with him.

But he couldn’t say a word. Not with his blinded panic, and definitely not with the terrible, agonising look you were giving him as you stared back at him.

Was this how you felt when he’d walked out on you last night? Hopeless. Defenseless. As if you weren’t even worth a grain of sand underneath the other’s shoe.

“Lovey, I’m sorry!” Bokuto cried out one more time, hoping that he’d reach out to whatever small piece of love you still held for him. “I said I’m sorry! Please just forgive me, don’t leave me. Please! I’m begging you! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it a million times over. Just, please,” he quieted to a whisper, just barely reaching your ears, “stay with me, and we can get through this together.”

His face crumpled as he heard your responding scoff.

“There’s no more ‘together’ for us, Bokuto.”

Your words stung — well, they stung as much as a gunshot or a knife to the heart would sting. He pressed on, desperate to get you to hear him out.

“I’m your sunshine, right? Your dovey. Your babe. Your pretty boy. Your Koutarou. Right?” He gripped onto the hem of his shirt, balling his hands into fists. “No matter what you call me, I’m yours. And I always will be. Even if you leave me right now, I’ll never stop looking for you. You know why?”

You stayed silent.

“Because I am just as much your sun as you are mine.”

His words echoed in your mind — that twisted, gnawing feeling came back in your gut. You knew that if you stayed for one more minute, it’d be over for you, and you’d go running back into his arms that always held you so tightly. Into his arms that smelt like home. Into his arms that made you feel like you were on top of the world as long as he was by your side. Into his arms that held onto another once the two of you reached a rough patch.

You made your decision.

“Koutarou…” His head snapped up to look at you, his eyes wide and glittering with a false sense of hope. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

There was another feeling growing within Bokuto. It was ugly, festering in the deepest parts of his mind — coming from a place that refused to acknowledge his faults. This feeling, it blamed

you. Why would you hurt him like this? How could you hurt him like this? You said he was your sunshine, your dovey, your Koutarou! How cruel could you be to lead him on, calling him ‘Koutarou’ again? You said you loved him!

“Don’t leave me!” He raised his voice. This feeling was taking over him, and it was angry. “If you leave, I’ll-I’ll…” His voice trailed off as he tried to regain control of himself.

Your brows furrowed. He still had the energy to yell, huh?

“You’ll what?” You took a step toward him. He looked away from you, trying to avoid your burning gaze. “Tell me, Koutarou. What will you do if I leave?”

He shook his head; you knew what that meant — “I won’t say it.”

“You’ll go back to them, won’t you?” you scoffed. “Have fun, Koutarou.”

Adjusting the straps of your bags, you gave him one last glare before moving toward the door once more.

That feeling came back in Bokuto’s mind, and it was stronger than ever. Pounding against the walls he built up, it roared, telling him to make you regret hurting him, make you think twice about leaving him. Bokuto was panicking, his will to beg you to stay was growing weaker as the feeling inside him became increasingly angry at you for causing him so much pain.

He knew he’d regret the next words he’d say to you, but that realisation came a second too late.

“I’ll never forgive you!”

You froze. Turning back around to face him, your eyes narrowed. “What?”

“If you leave me, I’ll never forgive you!”

His eyes were burning into you, a raging fire behind them.

“You’ll never forgive me?” you spat.

As quickly as the fire grew, it was extinguished as Bokuto’s expression morphed into one of shock.

“Wait, baby, I didn’t mean it! I promi–”

Dropping your bags by the door, you strided toward his figure. Pushing him against the wall, you pulled him in by the collar, melding his lips with yours.

The kiss was rough, angry, desperate — an amalgamation of everything you’ve felt in the past few hours going back and forth with Bokuto.

You pushed yourself into the space between his legs as he finally recovered from his shock and tried to match your tempo, his hands pulling you close into his body. Your teeth clashed together, and you had half the mind to bite his tongue in your mouth, but you held back.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you pulled his head back, ignoring his small, pained whine. The offensive mess of red and purple blotches still covered the expanse of his neck. A scowl grew on your face.

Bokuto yelped as he felt your lips latch onto his neck, sucking your own bruises over the ones already existing from his escapade. You were rough, unrelenting in your nearly-primal way of claiming him.

Trying to ignore your satisfaction from hearing his whimpers of your name, you pulled away, looking at your series of marks covering the ones from his other lover. The two of you were left panting — him trying to meet your eyes and you trying to avoid looking at him at all costs.

Leaning into his ear, you placed a gentle bite on his lobe. He tensed ever-so-slightly.

“You’ll never forgive me if I leave?” you hummed.

His hands that were under your shirt, roaming across your back, froze.

“B-Baby, wait, I didn’t–” He tried to plead with you until your next words completely shattered what was left of his broken, battered heart.

“I think I can live with that.”

You quickly backed away from him, evading his attempts to grab at your waist to stop you from leaving, and picked up your bags by the door. Looking back at him one last time, you nearly broke your facade.

After all he’s done, you still loved your Koutarou — no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise — and seeing him on his knees, sobbing, begging you not to leave for the umpteenth time, your will was wearing thin.

“Goodbye, Koutarou.”

The slam of the front door echoed across the remnants of his shattered heart and all he had the strength to do was cry. Pulling at the strands of his hair, he sobbed, begging into the air, weeping with no one to listen to him.

Without you, his world had no sky; everything was bathed in the shadow of your absence.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

tags: @katelyns-stuff @random-fandom-girl-24

[ramzawrites]

A Painful Reminder - Dad!Schlatt and Reader - Part 2

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Philza, Fundy, Tubbo, (mentioned) Schlatt

Warnings: mention of past self harm (ripping off horns), mention of blood, abandonment, cursing

Series: A part 2 after multiple people asked for it (thank you)

Summary: Quackity found Y/N bleeding next to the river. Now he frantically tries to figure out how to help them in more ways than one.

Words count: 3243

Authors Note: Here it is! Thank you for all the nice messages on part 1! It took longer than I had hoped and I apologize but also thank you all for the messages that cheered me up :D I’ll be honest I was a bit intimidated by all this and I hope that you guys enjoy this fic nontheless 💙 Also I usually like to put the fics right beneath the asks but since I got so many messages I decided to answer some of them, I hope that is alright. Or tell me if I should do it differntly after all haha

NO GUARANTEE BUT I MADE THIS POST THAT YOU CAN INTERACT WITH IN CASE YOU WANT TO GET TAGGED FOR A PART 3, no guarantee I will actually sit down in the near future for it but HERE

Reposted as a test to see if it will appear in the tags

“See. It’s already working.”

These words continued to echo through Quackity’s mind as he carried the unconscious Y/N in his arms, not worried about the blood that was soaking into his blue jacket. If anything he was more worried that dirt from his clothes was getting into the fresh wounds.

“Anyone? I need a doctor! Healing potions! Anything!” once again he yelled out hoping somebody was around L’Manberg.

Even though Y/N was knocked out cold their expression displayed pain. Quackity could only imagine how they did this to themself but he tried not to think too hard about it. The wounds looked gruesome even without the exact knowledge of how this came to be.

How desperate must they have been to hurt themself like that?

How long have they suffered that this was their reaction?

How will he live with the knowledge that he was partially at fault?

“Quackity? What’s wrong?”

Said man turned around to see a worried looking Tubbo and Fundy standing behind him. As soon he did though both their expression turned from worried to shock.

Fundy’s eyes widened as he saw Y/N laying limp in Quackity’s arms “What the- For the love of Ender what happened! Their horns!”

“I don’t know but I found them like this. Can you- Do you know-“ Quackity was struggling to find the rights words but Tubbo knew what he meant.

Once again his expression changed. Now looking more serious and determined but the worry was still clear through his body language “Let’s go to Phil. He has some brewery stands and I’m sure he will let us use his.”

Fundy nodded “I’m sure grandpa will help us.”

Quackity didn’t hesitate, he immediately begun making his way towards Phil’s house, still making sure that Y/N’s head isn’t moving around too much. Scared that he might hurt them even more.

All the while Tubbo made sure to stay a few steps ahead. As if he was keeping lookout for any possible dangers or to make sure that the way was free for them so the group could reach Phil’s place as fast as possible.

Fundy walked side by side with Quackity on the other hand. His eyes always darting to Y/N’s head. Staring at the place where their dark horns used to be. Queasy with all of this he grabbed his tail with his own hands.

Luckily it indeed didn’t take long for them to reach Phil’s place. Tubbo knocked hastily against the wooden door as Quackity readjusted Y/N in his arms.

The door opened and a somewhat tired looking Phil stood in front of them. His eyes first landed on Tubbo and slowly wandered towards Quackity with Y/N “What the- What is going on?”

Fundy stepped forward, still nervously holding onto his tail “We need your help, grandpa. Y/N is hurt and we need potions for them.”

Before he even ended the sentence Phil was already making space for the small group to walk in “Yes, of course. You can put them down on my bed there. I have some ingredients for potions in some of the chests. Tubbo, Fundy you know how to make healing and regeneration pots?”

“We do.” Tubbo answered sternly.

“Okay, then I’ll clean the wounds while you both make them.”

Quackity laid Y/N carefully down on the soft bed. A few whimpers escaped their mouth as he let go off them. Their face was still stained with their own tears. Blood covering the sides of their face as well as their hands. Their clothes dirty and wet.

Phil immediately moved in with fresh water and a clean rag, slowly cleaning up the wounds where Y/N’s horns used to be.

Tubbo and Fundy ran around from chest to chest, collecting all the ingredients for the potions. The only sound in the room came from the glass bottles and the brewery stands as well as the occasional painful groan from Y/N.

No one was saying it but all of them felt sick to their stomach. Seeing them without their horns felt so wrong. A part of their body just gone. Especially for fellow Hybrids this was a gruesome thought.

“So, what exactly happened?” Philza dunked the rag back into the water.

Quackity was just pacing around the room as he asked that question. He didn’t know anything about how to heal Y/N and was instead battling the increasing guilt that was building up in him.

He took a deep breath in “I don’t know. I heard some crying and when I investigated I found them by the river laying in the grass like this. I asked them what happened but they just babbled something on the lines of that they freed themself so we all can live in peace.”

Tubbo gasped “Don’t tell me- Don’t tell me they did this to themself! But this doesn’t make any sense!”

“Really? I think it makes a lot of sense!” Quackity snapped at Tubbo “Everyone has been avoiding them ever since fucking Schlatt’s death and they are not stupid! They realize we left them alone because of their relation to him! I know for a fact that you too saw their horns and had to think of him! You left them alone just how I did. How everyone did! This is our fault!”

“Quackity-“ Fundy wanted to calm the other man down but he was way too angry.

Too angry at everyone and himself.

“No! There is nothing else to say! We fucked up!”

The young president just stared at Quackity. Surprised with his reaction but he couldn’t fault him for it. He spoke the truth. It was an open secret after all. Something everyone knew but no one dared to talk about. No one thought of the consequences.

Fundy frowned and stared at the ground, mumbling something no one could understand.

Quackity still agitated turned towards him “What did you say?”

The Fox Hybrid looked up, his frown still present, showing his fangs “We were hurting as well! We all needed time to heal!”

“On the expense of Y/N?”

“What were we supposed to do!?”

Phil let out an annoyed groan “Can you two shut the fuck up? We can deal with this later! Right now the priority should be healing Y/N.”

After that no one dared to say anything. Tubbo and Fundy stood each at a brewing stand and stared intently at the glass bottles while Quackity decided to stand close to Phil and Y/N.

Schlatt’s rule was a horrible time. During that time Y/N and he bonded. Trying to keep each other’s spirit up as Schlatt destroyed everything in his wake. Including his relationships with his own child and him. Hence why he felt this increased sense of having to make sure that they were alright. It was the least he could do after screwing up so bad before.

“See, it’s already working” The sentence Y/N spoke just before they passed out snuck into his thoughts again. They were right. It hurt, because they were right.

Suddenly he had an idea “Phil, could regenerations potions, um, make them regrow? The horns, I mean.”

Philza stopped moving. His eyebrows pulled down in thought as he slowly shook his head “No, Regeneration Potions just increase the body’s ability to heal itself. Horns don’t regrow. If you lose them, they are gone forever.”

This stung. There was this slight hope in him that maybe, maybe they all could make it up. Correct all of their mistakes but instead he was left with even more guilt. Now they might not see the horns that would remind them of Schlatt but instead they would be met with a constant reminder of their own fault and guilt.

Suddenly Tubbo took a bottle out of the brewery in his hand while Fundy gave him a different one. He handed both of them to Phil who got out new rags and put one of the potions on it which he then used on the wound. Luckily the bleeding slowly did indeed stop more and more.

“Okay, the regeneration one they have to drink. It should help them with any general pain and should increase their healing but for that they have to wake up.” A weary sigh left his lips as he began cleaning up.

Phil put some of the rags in a chest only to pull out some bandages and threw them towards Quackity who struggled for a second but managed to catch them after all “Bandage them up, will ya?”

Quackity nodded and sat down on the bed next to Y/N. Their wounds still looked bad but at least their face was clean now and the bleeding stopped as well. Carefully he propped them up on his lap so he had an easier time to wrap their head.

He wasn’t the best at it but he did a good enough job that Philza didn’t feel the need to jump in.

Tubbo and Fundy were now standing on opposite sides of the room. Both had their arms in front of their chest. While Tubbo looked more worried, Fundy still had his frown on.

He understood where Quackity was coming from but to him there was no other way. If he forced himself to hang out with them then Y/N would have noticed it. He was sure of it. It was unfair to say that all of them were at fault for this. Yes, this was bad. This was quite frankly horrifying what happened but to say that all of them were at fault? That didn’t sit right with him.

Maybe he was too scared to accept the guilt.

Once Quackity finished wrapping up Y/N and just as he slowly dropped their head back on the bloody pillow, they begun groaning.

Everyone’s but Phil’s eyes widened as their gazes immediately snapped towards Y/N.

They slowly opened up one of their eyes and begun to sit up, without missing a beat Phil walked away from the chest he was rummaging about and instead grabbed the regeneration potion, pushing it into Y/N’s hands “Drink.”

Still groggy from their ordeal they just nodded and chugged the whole bottle down before setting the empty bottle down next to them. One of their still dirty hands flew towards their forehead, wincing in pain.

“Y/N?” Quackity tried to gain their attention but Y/N was busy trying to understand what was going on.

Suddenly their eyes grew wide and the other hand flew up to the head. Slowly they begun feeling around the rough bandages, inching more and more towards the place where their horns used to be connected with their head.

Letting out a pained gasp as soon as they arrived at the wound. Tears welling up in their eyes.

“It wasn’t a dream.” Y/N rasped out.

Tubbo looked like he was standing on hot coals with how much he danced around on the spot “I’m sorry, Y/N. We-“

But he interrupted himself as Y/N let out a dry laugh. It was a laugh mixed with relief, pain and shock. A laugh that set the pain inside Quackity’s and the other’s chest ablaze again. Even Fundy’s frown disappeared into one of disbelief. Like it just hit him what has happened.

Quackity was too busy with gauging everyone’s reaction that he didn’t notice how Y/N was now silently crying. They tried their best to suppress it via wiping away any tears that dared to escape but it was a futile effort.

“Where- Where am I?”

“In my place. Quackity carried you over here with Tubbo and Fundy.” Philza explained. He never really interacted with Y/N as well. He arrived in L’Manberg and was forced to kill his own son. Blaming the system and people of this city, so once he found out Y/N was Schlatt’s child, who was one of the main reasons Wilbur fell to his own paranoia? No, he didn’t feel incredibly comfortable trying to do small talk with them.

Sure, he felt bad for them but not guilty. No, the people who already knew them should feel guilty. If anything he felt sorry for them and saw them as another victim to the people similar like his son. A bit ironic if you really thought about it. The child of Schlatt and his own child both fell victim to L’Manberg.

Y/N nodded, their head felt so much lighter it was almost an uncomfortable feeling “I’ll get home then. I apologize for the trouble and thank you for the help.”

The nature of the stares has changed. A small part in them was almost ecstatic that this wasn’t in vain. No more stares of hostility but rather sympathy. Y/N could work with that, right? So, why did they still feel so conflicted? Why was the pain in their chest still there?

Throwing away the blanket, Y/N tried to stand up but Quackity pushed them back down with a stern expression.

“Hey, Hey! What do you think you are doing?” surprisingly it was Fundy speaking up and it shocked Y/N.

Fundy noticed the pang of fear on their face and relaxed his features “I’m- I’m sorry. Just, you can’t walk around like this. You are seriously hurt, besides-“ He stopped himself.

Tubbo looked at Fundy only to switch back to Y/N “Besides, if what we think what happened, there is no way we can leave you alone like this.”

“No, No- I- No. No. I did that- I-“ Y/N was frantically stumbling across their words, letting their tears now freely running and yet they still put on a smile and looked Tubbo in the eyes “I’ll be fine. Thank you for patching me up. From here on out I’ll be fine.”

Phil sighed “Just accept their help. That’s why you did this in the first place, didn’t you? Ripping your horns off your head, so they would stop avoiding you.” Seeing all of them stumbling across their words he decided to just rip the band aid off.

When Y/N just stared at their lap and didn’t dare to look up as a response Quackity put one of his hands on their shoulder, blood still smeared on them from when he inspected the wounds.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What he said, it’s the truth. You realized we avoided you because your horns reminded us of Schlatt, right?”

It wasn’t really a question, since he knew the answer but he needed to hear it from them himself. He needed definitive proof that they did feel indeed desperate enough because of everyone’s actions to do this. To literally rip their horns off their body.

Y/N gulped. Their mouth opening and closing but no words came out. They took a deep breath in, squinted their eyes shut and softly nodded, muttering an almost inaudible “Yes.”

Now they couldn’t hold back anymore, breaking down into loud sobs and hiccups.

“This is bull shit!” Fundy exclaimed angrily. Quackity wanted to yell at Fundy, saying why in the world would he still act like that only to see tears now welling up in the Fox Hybrids eyes as well.

Tubbo had a shocked expression on his face, clasping his hands in front of his mouth.

Phil had his eyes closed, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Brows in a frown as he was deep in thought.

Tentatively Quackity put his other hand on the other shoulder of Y/N, slowly and softly pulling on them. They didn’t react at first but after a few moments they seemed to relax and lean in. Falling into Quackity’s chest.

Now sobbing and crying while he was slowly rubbing their back in an effort to console them.

He put his head on theirs, hoping it wouldn’t hurt them too much and whispered apologies.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry we did this to you. You made an effort to talk to us and we noticed but we still chose to just abandon you.”

Their cries increased. Letting out their pent up pain as Quackity held them securely in their arms. Feeling some kind of love and affection for the first time since forever.

Fundy slowly stepped towards Y/N, placing one of his hands on their back “I’m sorry as well. We fucked up. None of this is on you but on us.”

“And I’m sorry as well! I- I don’t know what I was thinking. It was horrible of us.” Tubbo added.

“I feel sorry for you Y/N that’s all I can say. To the others, now saying you are sorry isn’t enough. You need to prove it. Got it?” Phil lectured the group.

Tubbo nodded “Yes. For starters we can make sure they heal up well.”

It took a few minutes until Y/N seemed to slowly calm down again. They were still sobbing but their cries weren’t as loud anymore.

Quackity pushed them away from him and looked them into their eyes “Stay at my place. I’ll make sure you’ll be okay. It will take time and I know it will be work to earn your trust again but will you at least give us this last chance? Hell, you have probably given more chances for us than we will ever realize but still, will you let me, uh, us, do this? It’s okay if you don’t want to, or if you want someone else to help.”

It took Y/N a moment to realize what was happening and what he was proposing. Not only were all of them worried for their wellbeing but they apologized. They had to admit that they didn’t expect this. Honestly they just hoped that their horns would go and all was well. People would finally talk with them and not ask too many questions. Y/N would probably be able to come up with an excuse. Probably.

But to hear that this wasn’t their fault? That the others avoided them wasn’t their fault? Realistically they always knew it but they never really believed it a hundred percent, so to hear this was like someone lifted a huge weight off of their heart.

The other’s recognized that they were hurting. Their feelings wasn’t something they somehow made up. This was real. This was happening and the others acknowledged it.

“… Okay.”

Quackity and the other seemed to relax at that. He let go off them and Tubbo used this chance to give Y/N a short hug as well which made Y/N break down into cries again. Fundy cautiously sat down on the bed as well and wrapped one of his arms and tail around the two.

The group noticed pretty fast that this was something Y/N needed. A physical proof that they cared for them. Not just words, now they had to show action. This also meant to inform all of the others on the situation. Make sure they learned what has happened but only with Y/N’s consent and in a way they were okay with it.

But before all of that, they will make sure they were healing, physically and mentally. Something will probably never fully leave or heal but they will find a way. They had to.

Quackity was incredibly glad they took him up on the offer. After all they two went together through the same bull shit from Schlatt and he saw them once as family, so he felt it was his responsibility, now that Schlatt was gone, to take care of them.

“Thank you, Y/N for giving us this chance. We don’t deserve it but we will try our hardest.”

“I know, Quackity.”