#cuz i never write it

[xxlady-lunaxx]

On the surface, Tengen was okay. Constantly at anyone’s service at any moment of need. He flashed them encouraging smiles, supported anyone at any time. He was there after Giyuu died, holding a calm expression and helping the other’s through it. He was there when Sanemi died, carving intricate letters into the gravestone. He was there when Tanjiro died, comforting the children—who were now all adults—the whole time. He attended every funeral, he worked as a therapist to all of them, especially in the days following Muzan’s death, speaking gentle words to the butterfly girls and promising to lend a hand, even if he lost his only left. And while to everyone else, this seemed to be second nature to him now, constantly composed and ready to father everyone, he really was not okay. He found, in a way, this was how he could redeem himself. He was guilty of a crime, in his own mind. Guilty of not fighting during the war. He often wondered how many of the others he could’ve saved if he had simply stepped forward. Despite his injuries, it wasn’t as if he’s been paralyzed, for God’s sake! One arm or not, he had a working eye, he had a healthy body, he could’ve fought! He could’ve saved someone—anyone! Nearly all of the Hashira had been younger than him, they had still had more life to live. Especially Muichiro. Yet some stupid, cowardice part of Tengen had nabbed him before he could consider entering the fight. At the time, he told himself he had to be there for his wives. That he had to help the Ubuyashiki’s. Or maybe be back up if they truly were losing. Maybe some of it was true. Maybe it all was. But it didn’t change the fact that he had thought it would justify his staying back. He had used his reasons to assure himself that what he was doing was for the better, that he would get in the way, that he had other duties for the Corps now. He should’ve fought. He had been doing fine in the Hashira Training they had organized, even if he hadn’t been as strong as before. Now it was eating him alive, trying to go about life knowing full well he could of saved so many people yet had decided not to just to save his own life. He had already gained much more than most Demon Slayers had in the short years he’d lived. He had three wives for fuck’s sake! His selfishness appalled him. So he was trying everything he could now to redeem himself, to pay back the people who were left by being at their mercy. He allowed himself little freedom. He didn’t deserve it. He really didn’t.

[leo-artista]

Felt a bit nostalgic

[shartfinz]

Nintendo if you bring super paper Mario back I'll fix Mr. L's hands in this drawing just for you

[sst4rdst]

synopsis : modern au scaramouche places nicotine patches on you so you would get addicted to him. pairing : yan scara x reader (no gendered pronouns used for reader) warnings : yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, scara is kinda cringe ngl, forced addiction. author's note : inspired by this ask @allfearstofallto received! (btw go check her works they're really good, just saying).

it starts as nothing. a lingering discomfort when you’re alone, a tension in your muscles that refuses to ease, a dull, unshakable exhaustion that follows you even after a full night’s sleep. it’s easy to dismiss at first, easy to blame on stress, on a poor diet, on the weather being too cold or too hot. you don’t think much of it—not when it’s just a headache here and there, not when the nausea comes in brief waves, not when your hands shake just slightly as you reach for your morning coffee.

but then it worsens. slowly, gradually, deliberately.

there are days when the discomfort turns unbearable, days when you feel like something is clawing at the inside of your ribcage, desperate to be let out. your body betrays you in ways you don’t understand—your heart pounding too hard, your breathing shallow, your fingers twitching when you try to hold a pen, a fork, a phone. it’s maddening, this constant state of unease, like you’re missing something vital, like a part of you has been carved away and you’re left grasping at empty air. you rack your brain for a reason, for some kind of explanation that makes sense, but nothing adds up. there is no pattern to it, no logical cause.

except, there is. because it always, always gets better when you’re with him.

the moment scaramouche steps into the room, the tension in your chest unwinds, your headache fades, your trembling stops as if it was never there. you don’t even have to do anything—just being in his presence is enough to soothe the worst of it, like he’s some kind of drug you didn’t realize you were taking.

you hate the thought. you hate the dependency, the way your body reacts to him like an addict finding their next fix. but there’s no denying it, not when the relief is so immediate, not when it feels so good just to exist near him, to hear his voice, to feel his gaze settling on you with that same unreadable expression.

he notices. of course, he notices. he’s always watching, always analyzing, always a step ahead of you in ways that you’ve never quite been able to grasp.

“why do you always come to me when you feel like shit?” his voice is flat, unimpressed, but there’s something underneath it, something too pleased, like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it anyway. he’s lounging on your couch, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back, looking like he has all the time in the world to entertain your pathetic little problem.

you swallow, rub your temples, frustrated with yourself, with him, with this whole situation. “i don’t know,” you mutter, though you do, you just don’t want to admit it. “i just—fuck, i feel better when i’m with you. like, physically.”

the corner of his lips twitches, and for a second, you think he’s going to smirk. but he doesn’t. he just watches you with that same half-lidded gaze, fingers tapping against his thigh in slow, deliberate movements. his nails are painted black today. he only does that when he’s bored.

“how pathetic,” he murmurs, and there it is—that cruel amusement, that mocking edge laced into his words like a knife hidden in silk. he tilts his head, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “you seriously need me, huh?”

you don’t answer. because what is there to say? it’s true. it’s humiliating and infuriating and it makes you feel small, but it’s the truth. you do need him. or at least, your body seems to think so.

you don’t know that this was never an accident. that the first time you felt those strange aches, those unbearable withdrawals, it wasn’t some random affliction—it was him. it was always him.

you don’t know that it started with a tiktok. some stupid, throwaway video that he barely paid attention to at first, some joke about how nicotine patches could be used to make someone dependent, how withdrawal could be weaponized. you don’t know how the idea latched onto him like a parasite, burrowing into his thoughts, refusing to let go until it became something more, something twisted, something actionable.

you don’t know that every time he touched you—every casual brush of fingers against your arm, every moment he pretended to fix your collar, every instance where he pulled you just a little closer than necessary—he was leaving something behind. a small, colorless patch, barely noticeable, perfectly hidden beneath fabric and routine. a dose just strong enough to matter. just strong enough to make you crave him.

you don’t know any of this. but you do know that you always end up back in his presence. that no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t need him, your body betrays you in the end.

[ghostbredtt]

nya page bcuz I missed her. I'm not back in the building, but who knows!!

[sergle]

man, you know, nobody asked me, but I have such conflicting opinions on some of the fat falin art, where on one hand: it's always nice to see A Fat Body in fanart anywhere + it's being done in positive ways, for funsies and on the other hand, there is something so familiar about how you are automatically The Fat One if you are a woman simply standing next to a more petite woman, bc I've had a 0% hitrate in seeing people change Marcille's body type and keep Falin's, or change both of them. it's just Falin

[ghostbsuter]

"Oh, fuck no." The door is slammed, unfortunately for him, the guy stuck his foot in the jamb and pushed it open again.

"C'mon luv!" Constantine smiles charmingly, not waiting for Danny and entering the apartment.

At least Batman, Nightwing and Spoiler had the patience to wait for him to invite them in. Sagging against the door, he beckoned them inside.

Despite the caution, Spoiler gleefully stepped in, looking around like a child in an amusement park— which might not be too far off.

His apartment is, with all its wards and enchantments, very magical inside than it is outside.

The planetary system of another world, used as light for the living room and for practice.

(Nightwing is careful with what he touches. He still remembers the hours they spent in Mumbo Jumbo's hat.)

Batman on the other hand is following Constantine and Danny to what he assumes to be the office, if the amount of magical stuff carelessly laying around means anything.

"Alright fucker, what are you doing here? And how did you even know I live in gotham?"

John had the audacity to look abashed, scratching the back of his head with a nervous chuckle.

"Something came up and you know Gotham doesn't like me. She is much more used to you and I wanted to introduce bats to you, in case of emergency."

The young adolence stares owlishly.

(How did Constantine expect him to act at the fact that he's trusting a magical situation into the hands of a stranger?

Batman isn't sure how good the boy even is!)

"That's incredible thoughtful of you Connie." Danny hums. "What did you lose for your sorry ass to come here?"

Spoiler snorts, petting a red salamander. "He didn't lose anything." She reassures with a wave, giving an exaggerated smile and raising her brows to show that she's finding it very amusing.

Constantine sputters.

"Ancient knows how Zatanna and Raven deal with him."

Nighteing perks up from the side where he'd looked over the books, some pixie fairies(?) fawning over him? "Raven? You know her?"

Danny suppresses another sigh.

[keikeichi123456]

hear me out, zosan grindr au HEAR ME OUT

sanji, after finally coming to terms with the fact that he might not be totally straight, decides to download grindr and sets up a profile with the help of nami

luffy plans a hangout with all his friends and the moment sanji walks into the room, the telltale sound of two grindr notifications goes off

the room is silent. everyone is staring at sanji. sanji wants the ground to swallow him up whole. eventually conversation starts up again but sanji still wants to die

wait a minute…two notifications went off which means…

sanjis head snaps over to where zoro’s lazily nursing a bottle of beer and checking his phone

sanji hears another notification going off and hastily pulls out his phone, attempting to silence the damn thing when he sees what the notification banner says:

Grindr

Roronoa Zoro just tapped you!

oh that fucking asshole

sanji quickly opens up the app and clicks on the offending profile and there it is in all its glory, a picture of zoro holding up a fucking fish, holy shit how cliche can one get—

Roronoa Zoro

Online Now

0 feet away

Not looking for anything serious

of course that assholes not looking for anything serious, the guy’s one true love is swords for fucks sake

Grindr

Roronoa Zoro: i didnt know u were on here

sanjis fingers fly over the keyboard, ignoring the fact that zoro was literally at yelling distance

Sanji: fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou

Roronoa Zoro: lol

Roronoa Zoro: i mean if u want

Sanji: ALSNDNWKFKCNNSKW KYSKYSKYSKYSKYSKYS DIE

Roronoa Zoro: 😂

shenanigans ensue

(too lazy to write it all out rn but basically zoros been pining after sanji for so long but is sure that it wont be going anywhere cuz that is the straightest of the straight (which he will later learn isnt true) so he uses grindr to just release some pent up energy, the reason why his bio says hes not looking for anything serious is cuz hes in love with sanji like IN LOVE IN LOVE

sanji doesnt know that and so when he starts developing feelings…that really fucks him up, he thinks zoros just using him but sanjis terrible at communication and zoros kinda dumb so

they eventually figure it out tho and finally sort their shit out)

[daemon-in-my-head]

At last, here it is. A while ago, I had the pleasure of commissioning the wonderful @lokorum to portray my beloved idiots in all of their tragic glory.

So without further ado, after months, here's the first chapter of my durgetash-centred, possibly very long, post-canon Genfic (cuz even if he's not featured in the picture, he's very much the one behind it, and yes, I said genfic but they do fuck, there's just also other themes that are more important than whatever it is those guys got going on).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63147115

Rated M; further elaboration, summary etc behind the cut.

As per usual, please mind the tags. This is rated mature and may turn explicit depending on—let's be so fr—nothing but my mood. It IS a tragedy. I know how it ends. Trust me when I stress the tragedy part. I'm writing this story through tears at times. There's fluff, there is hurt comfort, there is true old man yaoi but there is just as much 'doves that aren't simply dead but rotten' and pain.

So to everyone who's not scared shitless yet (which is very valid), here's a summary:

The year is around 1530 DR. The once-revered and reformed Bhaalspawn returns to the city he had both saved and nearly doomed, emerging from his exile in the Underdark. Though he claims to seek only rest, the city's de facto ruler, Archduke Gortash, sees through the monster’s carefully crafted facade. Perhaps if the elf had never saved the Banite all those years ago—when he was little more than a blurred and distant memory—his own fate might have unfolded differently, perhaps even more mercifully. But regrets have long since lost their weight. The past is immutable, and all that remains—all that truly matters to him now—is the purpose that once again draws him into this treacherous den.

And on a personal note; I'm still squealing and shoving this artwork into the face of everyone I meet irl. I absolutely adore it. I'm not sure I'll be stopping with that soon. You will see reblogs.

Again. Tragedy. I mean it. There's fluffy moments, but I will absolutely exploit them to enhance the pain. I'm dead serious about Bhaal being able to learn from me. I caused his kid more agony than he could ever dream of delivering. And I haven't even shared the worst parts yet.

Edit: I also mean the psychological warfare tag. It's my guilty pleasure. And whatever over one year of obsession amounts to.

[yuukirita]

Tomorrow...

It's actually a very happy chapter if you don't know about SecondBee Au... Compared to the last chapter at least. This one will make you laugh at least once (I hope)

Hug hug (or a single nod of the head)

[joyfuladorable]

Parts 1 to 4 of a Very Specific Part of the SAINW Roadtrip AU that I'm working on with @toonzxy and @deadpool1763492 We posted Parts 1 (mine) & 2 (Toonz') on other socials a While back and forgot to post them here, but hey! At least you get all the parts together, lol! Now, I wonder what comes after this? And what comes before? >:3c

Bonus textless Part 4 cuz I like it:

[yooniivrse]

no but imagine a figure skating au where you and jungkook are ice dancing partners. the chemistry was certainly there during your performances, but off the ice, you just never seemed to click with him. practices always ended with petty fights and weird tension.

until one day, you guys hook up to relieve some of the overwhelming pressure that is on your backs for the competition the next day, and coincidentally, you end up winning gold.

of course, jungkook is convinced that you guys have to fuck before competitions from now on because “it clearly does something”. but it can’t escalate to feelings because everyone knows, that breaking up romantically but still having to stay partnered for the sport rarely ends well.

so now you’re in a fwb relationship with him but you can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth cradling your heart every time you guys celebrate and he kisses your temple on the podium or twirls u around after a good performance.

but of course, you can stay professional…right?

[gomzdrawfr]

"Don't cry."

Simon said this whenever he knew you were about to cry, eyes glossy and watery, lips trembling.

trigger warnings: angst, childhood abuse (referenced + mentioned), canon-typical violence (referenced)

notes: this is an x reader fic, also apologies for the grammar and errors if any

read more to continue this short drabble

“Don’t cry.”

His voice was hollow, rough, forced out before the words had a chance to settle.

Simon said this whenever he knew you were about to cry, eyes glossy and watery, lips trembling.

It wasn’t gentle, nor a plea. It wasn’t meant for comfort or to keep you from falling apart. It was rough, low, and scratched at your ears in a way that made it hard to bear.

It felt more like an order, one you weren’t sure was meant for you or for himself.

“Just… don’t.” He repeated, the words more for himself than for you. Something swirled in his eyes behind the mask, a faint glint catching the light, like shattered glass.

“Simon,” you whispered, voice cracking, but he cut you off with a sharp edge, ending the conversation before it even began.

You thought it was because of the life he led—the danger and discipline that flowed through his blood. You thought he was telling you not to cry because he needed you to be strong. After all, he was a soldier—a man who had seen more violence, death, and despair than you could ever imagine. You assumed he couldn’t stand to see weakness, the vulnerability that came with it.

But there was more.

There was always more with him.

You didn’t know what those words really meant to him, how deep they ran, how they had been carved into his very bones, how they play on repeat in his head like a broken cassette tape on those colder nights.

You didn’t know that those two words were all he had ever heard growing up, the only comfort he could muster when his mum sobbed after another bad night, when Tommy curled up in the corner of the kitchen, scared and bruised, whispering into the dark.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He had felt helpless as a boy, kneeling before his family, wanting more than anything to do something—anything—but lacking the strength or power to act. He couldn’t make the pain go away. He couldn’t make the tears disappear.

Hearing those heart-wrenching sobs, those sniffles, those whimpers—it made him feel like that little boy again: lost, powerless, useless.

But the tears always came, and they never fixed anything. Crying didn’t make the bruises disappear. It didn’t quiet the screams. It didn’t make the shouting stop. All it did was twist his stomach inside out, wring his heart until he didn’t even recognize it anymore, and made his breathing all the more suffocating, like he was drowning in someone else’s grief.

It made him feel small.

Seeing those same tears in your eyes brought him back to that place. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. How to make it better.

He hated it. He hated feeling like that small boy again, hopeless, like he was failing all over.

Because Simon loves you, he truly does, more than himself, and yet he can’t bring himself to face you in these moments. 

Turning his back away from you, his head dipped lower, as if he were willing himself out of the memory that bubbled up, out of the pain that no amount of time or distance could dull.

Tears didn’t fix the past. They didn’t heal the scars that had been left on his soul.

“Simon-”

“Don’t cry… please.”

When he turned away, when he avoided your tears, when he grew distant whenever you broke down in front of him—it wasn’t because he didn’t care.

He just didn’t know how to handle it.

[saltynsassy31]

*drags myself through the floor and slams this down*

I present to you

FULLMETAL BARTENDERS AVIAN AU

Divine Nugget Au

(Rant as to why I chose the White-throated Needletail as Blurr's bird and some minor AU lore under the cut)

And that's not all! It comes with a FULL FLEDGED COMIC!!!!!

I spent a whole fucking week on this

I haven't done a comic in 4 years now, I can't believe this is my come-back XD. Though, on that note, know that I probably won't be pumping out any more comics - not any time soon, at least. But I do got more stuff planned for this au! If you ask about it, I'll 100% rant about it LOL

Tw// ⚠️mild gore in the 3rd panel⚠️

While exploring the woods with his team, Swerve had an unfortunate encounter with a crazed hunter. In an attempt to escape, he got injured, but it seems he wasn't the only one caught in the crossfire...

.

.

Okay

So when you look up what the fastest bird in the world is, Google with show the Peregrin Falcom

But there's a catch

The Peregrine is only fast when diving

When it dives to catch its prey, it can go up to 389km/h

Which yeah, pretty fast

But when casually flying, it only goes up to 120 iirc

The Needle Tail?

It can go up to 170km/h

Some have even recorded going over 300! (Close to the Falcon's dive, I believe)

Additionally, these birds only fly. Their habitat is literally listed as "the air," and some even believe they sleep while flying! They only ever land to brood and mate, and then they're off again. Their legs are so short that, if they ground, they can't fly again because it doesn't give enough room to flap their wings.

It fits Blurr perfectly!

It also has a blue-ish colour pattern I can work with lol (it's green, but it looks blue, lol)

Though, also, he isn't 100% like the Needle Tail, just based off of it. I still want avians to be sorta their own species and doesn't have to be exactly like their bird counterparts cuz they aren't them, they're their own thing.

That said, Blurr is one of the shortest from Avians population, still.

They're pretty big.

Another trivial detail of the design!

I was stuck between having his arms be his wings or have them be separate

Until I saw a drawing where they had both, and I realised, "Wait, why isn't that done more often! That's so cool!"

So that's sorta what I did

It's mainly to catch small prey when grounded and to stay better perched up on trees since they're much bigger and having extra fingers helps a lot. Or when they're climbing against a tree to pick up fruits, it gives them an extra boost and can better hang from it

But they're pretty much useless besides that lol

Just neat lil design choice

Other lore stuff. The time in which the au takes place is vaguely modern? But with fantasy aspects? I still haven't decided lol

Technology exists, but not in the way we have it sort of deal, idk, this au is pretty bare bones right now, so go wild with it XD I don't mind it, I love brainstorming it with people. I know this au isn't as big or complex as some others out there, but it's fun, and I hope yall like it too fjsjajaj

[dragonfruitflamb3]

New Haptar yay 8

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61255480/chapters/158398042

Lovely melon reader going through some trying times once more

[allastoredeer]

Do you know any good fics where Alastor quits or feels like the hotel betrays him? extending this ask to the community since we are all vengeful over the hotel forgetting about him

Unfortunately, I haven't found a lot of fic's like that, but there is this one fic that I adore and it sort of follows that premise!

It's called "Dropped Shield" by LeDiz and it's basically Lucifer overstepping his own authority and "firing" Alastor from the hotel. Alastor, who's rightfully angry and offended, obliges. Everyone else quickly realizes that he was doing a lot to keep the hotel running, and problems ensue.

It's honestly one of my favorite fics and I wish we had more like it. I'd eat up every single story that explores how much Alastor does for the hotel and what the repercussions of him leaving would be.

If anyone else has fics that follow the premise Anon is asking for, please drop a link below, because I, too, would love to read them.