#felt so stupid writing this

[nataly-gt]

borrowers in music venues

building off my last post, i love love love the idea of borrowers being involved in human music spaces! here's a little story about it that i've had rotating in my head for a while -

a tight knit community of borrowers lives at a venue, n maybe it's a local place, smaller, offers them more leniency to mess around. they survive by collecting food scraps and extra concert items, either left behind by the audience or prepared in the kitchen / bar area.

so many bands and musicians cycle through the place, though most of them tend to be indie/ folk shows. even so, the huge crowds that they attract are seen as dangerous (rightfully so), and it's strictly prohibited for borrower folk to leave the walls during showtimes. but the constant noise into the late night makes it difficult for those living in the walls to rest - so of course, during those hours, a team of younger borrowers break the rules to venture out and see what it's all about. the only difference is that instead of an ideal laid back performance happening that night, there's a metal, hardcore band playing. this only excites the borrowers more, because- wow! all the noise, the aggression! it's so dangerous yet alluring to them.

one of them has a spot in the rafters, right over the stage, that they dare the others to go out onto. all their borrowing equipment is left behind, so in true teenager fashion they climb onto it without any regard for safety, eager to see the show unfold below them.

when the band starts playing something heavy, and the vocalist is roaring with an animalistic intensity, the swarms of people in the crowd moshing and shouting along, the borrowers realize - maybe their parents are right about humans being dangerous, evil creatures. as worried excitement begins to claim them, they realize this may be more than what they bargained for. one of them tries to leave, but is knocked off balance by a burst of noise from below. they fall the perilous height, landing next to the band's equipment in the center of the stage, injuring a leg but staying conscious. angst ensues!

it's so enthralling to imagine how the sensory aspect of a concert would be elevated at such a larger scale, the booming music engulfing the borrower completely, then the terrifying display of hundreds of giants, illuminated by flashing lights, brawling in front of them. immobilized by fear, the borrower would see the crowd ebb and flow with the music, controlled by the few humans on stage whose instruments now vibrate through their smaller form with an unbelievable intensity. they would attribute so much power to the band, especially the vocalist, whose voice becomes something out of their nightmares, their towering form commanding the mobs below the stage. guitars and drums clash around them as they lie motionless and wait for it to end, trying desperately to stay calm.

finally, when the set is finished, the borrower feels relief, hopeful that the band would leave and they might go unnoticed, but then the vocalist turns back to get their water or coat, and -oh no- they see the borrower! there's that initial phase of shock and disbelief, until they realize it's not just a tiny person, it's a kid, injured and gaping up at them with watery eyes. eager to leave, they scoop the borrower up, shielding them from all the noise and prying eyes until they find privacy backstage. their earnest attempts at reassurance have the opposite effect due to the immensity of their voice.

but following the trope of (most) metal bands being the nicest ppl ever- i imagine that they'd be so concerned for the borrower, putting aside their bewilderment to treat them with care and kindness, because obviously this tiny person is hurt and completely terrified of them. there would be so much fear to overcome, but eventually the borrower would trust them, grateful to be offered so much help by the (still very intimidating) humans who they thought would be their end. later on the borrower reunites with their friends - who were in the middle of planning a rescue mission - and they all hurry back to the settlement before the adults find out.

i like to think that both the borrowers and the band would agree to say nothing about the incident, and then part ways as if it never happened - leaving it as an ephemeral moment in time. eventually the humans file out and the venue is silent again, though an unlucky borrower's ears end up ringing for a few days after.

[toytulini]

listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.

yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?

maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".

get a better joke

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

sometimes I see David Tennant's face in Doctor Who as he monologues about time travel/immortality/the eternal loneliness and I go...that's him. that's my rotten lil guy. my wretched wreck of a dude. wreckage in humanoid form. the lonely divine corrupted by himself forgiven by himself made by himself made by his companions made by the universe. horrible and horrifying and far too human and not human enough. the worst thing to ever happen to so many (Martha, Adelaide, Astrid, everyone else who flashed through that whole montage thanks to Davros). a corrupter. a corruption. a cleansing. a man carved out of grief and love and pathos and hatred and grudges and forgiveness who can only make the worst decisions with the best, most selfish of intentions. a man who loved until he lost everything. a man, more than any other doctor, who should never be left alone, and yet he dies alone, with the shortest regeneration speech of any doctor. desperately lonely, desperately tragic, a disaster of a man who is too careless with everything and everyone around him.

And yet I care about him so much, because he is also the man who at the end of it all, after he lost everyone and everything he held dear, after he lost rose and donna and sarah jane and jack and martha and mickey left him and he was more alone than he's ever been, he does the right thing. the kind thing. he stops the time lords from descending on the earth. he once again gives up his people because he understands that the Time Lords Victorious cannot and should not ever be the way to go. he steps in and he saves wilfred mott. he lets himself become the doctor once again. he doesn't want to go, but instead of taking that one final step into godhood, he gives his next self a chance at being a better doctor than he ever could be.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “so… this is how a situationship feels like, and it sucks” prompts 

“See… The thing is, if we ever “break up”, I’d be devastated. Not because we were ever together, but because I’d be wondering about the what ifs and could haves and the potential we could have had. I think that’s what would hurt the most: wondering if we could have been the best thing out there, and not being able to see that come into fruition.” 

“I mean, I’d rather be as we are than lose you entirely.” 

“You’re confusing the shit out of me! Like, do you like me, or do you not? Do you want me or what the fuck? What are we?” 

“You broke my heart, but we weren’t even fucking together in the first place, which makes this all the shittier. You played me, then moved on like you didn’t leave a mark turned scar on me.” 

“So like… Are we just going to dance around our feelings and act like we don’t want something more? Or is it just me who feels this way?”

“I feel like if you truly wanted to be with me then it wouldn’t be so hard for me to have you around me for even just a minute, you know?”

“Maybe you should end things with them? Before you get hurt.“ “Well, I know I’m probably going to get my heart broken at the end of this but I also like to suffer. Actually, to be honest, I’m already hurt, but thanks for worrying about me!”

“I get this rush when I talk to you. It’s a high I chase, and I know it’s unhealthy, but I can’t stop.”

“So apparently I don’t know how to respect myself, because I’m wanting someone who doesn’t want me back as much, if at all.” 

“Some stupid part of me believes one day this could become something more, so then I end up hurting myself because it’s apparently what I do best, because I know this isn’t going to become something more. I’m deluding myself.”

“I say I’m going to get over them when they stop responding for a while, but I damn well know I’d run back to them the moment they hit me up again.”

“I’ve long accepted the fact that we won’t ever move past this stage, but then you do shit like that and it gives me hope, and that fucking hurts.” 

“You want the security a relationship gives you, and everything else it has to offer, but you don’t want a relationship. Well, at least with me. What the hell? You don’t get to string me along like this, you fucking asshole.” 

“Well, I’m sick and tired of this shit. Either we become official or you lose me.” 

[plusultraetc]

I've accepted that this fic will probably never be finished (although parts of it may be repurposed for future stories), but this exchange still makes me :')

+ bonus bc it made me laugh all over again

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I've recently come across a couple of season 4 fanfics that dealt with the Chat Noir feeling left out and quitting thing and every time I read one I can't help but think "man did they chose the wrong side of the masks AND the wrong characters for this conflict. Chat Noir comes across terribly here". It's weird to see people try and justify his behavior and act like Ladybug was in the wrong.

Was Ladybug being the best friend ever? No, but friendship is secondary when they're wearing the masks. Paris comes first. Chat Noir quitting because he doesn't feel special enough is literally him endangering everyone he loves because his crush isn't paying enough attention to him and I truly can't tell if the show wanted us to feel like he was in the right or the wrong here. In Kuro Neko, Catwalker actually does acknowledge the lesson he needed to learn

There's nothing wrong with you. Maybe the boy who was Cat Noir was more sensitive than it seemed. But his feelings for you shouldn't force you to pay more attention to him than to others. You take care of everybody equally, Ladybug. 

And Chat Noir apologizes at the end of the episode for causing Ladybug trouble, but the whole thing is incredibly lackluster. They don't actually have a meaningful conversation about why he was feeling that way and the rest of the season seems to present Ladybug as being in the wrong, especially the final! Trusting Alya leads to nothing meaningful and not trusting Chat Noir loses her the miraculous. Basically, I still have no idea what season 4 was trying to do with this conflict and it's been dropped forever now that Adrien is fully reduced to nothing more than arm candy.

HOWEVER, this basic setup could have been a fantastic b plot if the "Adrien doesn't feel needed" conflict wasn't a Ladynoir conflict, but was instead a conflict between Adrien and Nino. Move Rocketear up to earlier in the season and have the fallout from that be that Adrien's relationship with Nino is strained. He can still feel leftout because Ladybug has a bigger team now, but instead of him pouting about it and skipping fights, focus on how that need for connection has transferred to his civilian life, but he doesn't have Kagami or Nino now and he's lost. Then you can either have an Adrien and Nino b plot because that relationship needs more screen time OR you use this to make Adrien and Marinette start to grow closer because Rocketear's fallout is also Alya paying more attention to Nino. Then, when season 5 does the whole crush switch, it actually feels earned.

[kokichispanta]

DSMP Fics

(that I recommend)

(I have not actually finished all of these so if you see smth nasty I promise I don't know about it- Though do tell me so I can remove it from the list, thanks :D)

ROYAL AU 🜲

Butterfly Reign: By SilentTeyz

The royal family of Antarctic empire isn’t exactly close. Emperor Philza is always occupied; Tommy hasn’t seen Techno in months, and even if Wilbur is here, their relationship can be described to be strained at best. The royal family doesn’t need to be close, however, it only needs to be balanced, like the pillars holding the country above their heads – as long as they are strong and steady, the Empire will be too. It’s the principle that held Tommy’s back straight and his shoulders broad through the years of hardships and trials of errors; through yet another formal meeting where his father’s gaze would look past him and where his brother’s words would be filled with poison that makes the deepest parts of his soul ache. At that time, Tommy couldn't know that his family would find a replacement for him in the face of a commoner boy named Ranboo. Tommy's family has replaced him. It's only fair that he gets to do the same.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 39/50

https://archiveofourown.org

I was a kid in a village, doing alright, then I became a prince overnight: By sircantus

(Yes the title is from sofia the first, yes I'm laughing at it, I find it funny-) In which Phil has created the Antarctic Empire from the ground up and takes in Techno and Wilbur along the way, and raises them while also ruling his kingdom. Tommy, sixteen, lives with Tubbo in an orphanage, the two of them running around in the cold streets of their town. After a hectic day of getting separated from Tubbo, getting into a few fights, and ending up in an entirely new town, he comes across Phil, and saves him from an assassination attempt by smashing a plate over someone's head. So then both Techno and Wilbur decide to see who this kid is, and Tommy sure is endearing, in the way that the first time they spy on him, he starts a fight in an alleyway over a bag of cookies.

(and then Tommy basically gets kidnapped into the royal family, but like, legally, y’know?)

Status: Finished

Chapters: 28

https://archiveofourown.org

Who the Ever-Loving F*** made me a prince?: By sherashalala

Tommy wakes up in a book he's read once before, now casted as an infant prince named Theseus-- that would have been fine if this infant isn't destined to die at the age of fifteen by the hands of his own royal brother. Tommy as Theseus will not have that. He'll be changing a few things in here. For one, he will not be called Theseus. That's such a gaudy name. Who the hell chose that-? Oh right. The brother who is going to execute him. ---

OR The SBI Who Made Me A Princess AU we all needed. OR OR Tommy gets stuck inside a book and he has to use childish charm to change fate.

Status: Unfinished/Discontinued

Chapters: 27

https://archiveofourown.org

the curious tale of a not so lost runaway prince: By xMultiFandomsx

Tommy is the youngest prince of the Antarctic Empire who's fed up with being ignored by his family so he takes matters into his own hands. He begins to sneak out from the palace into the city nearby in hopes to catch someone's attention. It's there he begins to form a new sort of family. He experiences life like never before: discovering friendship, running from criminals, and (most importantly) eating wonderful foods.

-or- Prince Tommy was sick of his family forgetting about him and tries to get their attention which ends up leading him right into the arms of a whole new one. Will Tommy's royal life get in the way of his new city life? Will the royal family finally notice their youngest prince? There's only one way to find out.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 18

https://archiveofourown.org

TANGLED AU 𖤓

The Golden Phoenix: By emiartse

In his dreams, there had always been a voice. A soft melodic voice that sang their mother's lullaby. A more monotonous, but just as loving voice that promised he'd teach him to fight one day, once he was old enough of course. The doting voice of a mother laughs with a toddler as she gently tries to fix a small crown onto the boy's brow. And then there was the gentle voice of a father, that promised to always keep him safe from those who'd do them harm. And in the morning when the boy would awake, he'd wonder who exactly he needed to be protected from. "Tommy?" A voice called out from the doorway and Tommy grinned gleefully at the sight of his older brother. "Dream!" He yelled, stumbling out of bed and into his arms, hugging the man tight. His brother returned the hug in kind, his hands pressing warmly into the spot on his back where his wings would ignite from for the first time in a few days, fully grown. Surely Dream was all the protection Tommy would ever need in this world, right? A knot of doubt coiled tightly in his chest. -------------------------------------

AKA The DSMP Tangled AU nobody asked for.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 35/37

https://archiveofourown.org

The Ballad of Theseus: By Bumblebeeii

News said the Queen and her unborn child were sick. Rumours said the Kings guard were looking for a magic flower to quell all sickness, a flower that could pull someone back even from the brink of death. To the people of the Antarctic empire and greater lands beyond, the flower was nothing but a legend, forged many millennia ago. The story had quickly became one of myth, and was lost to the ever moving sands of time… —————————————————— When Tommy and Tubbo cross paths, an unforeseen pact is forged. Will their alliance rewrite destiny's design? ——————————————————

AKA a Tangled AU featuring Tommy, SBI, Tubbo, Dream and everyone else.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 15/22

https://archiveofourown.org

healing (in more ways than one): By orphan_account

For his entire life, Tommy dreamed of seeing the floating lights in person. His brother Dream, however, won't even let him leave his cottage, let alone go off into the world. With the help of Tubbo, a thief who breaks into his home while hiding from the kingdom, he just might be able to. Tubbo just wants to sell the lost prince's crown in exchange for a healing potion for Ranboo, who is gravely injured. However, when he meets Tommy, a loud teen with healing abilities, he might not have to. After all, he only needs to take the guy to see the lanterns. Easy, right? Princes Wilbur and Technoblade have been trying to track down Tubbo, but they lost him soon after he stole their missing brother's crown. Tubbo and Ranboo have been stealing from the castle for quite some time, but never anything this valuable. And even though they have yet to catch their criminal frenemies in all the years they've known each other, they're determined to get back the crown. -------

or the dream smp tangled au that literally no one asked for but i decided to write anyway

Status: Finished

Chapters: 21

https://archiveofourown.org

Gleam and Glow: By beepers

Long time ago, an ex-deity found a magical flower that made him younger and stronger if you sang to it. Centuries later, the flower is taken away from him to heal the pregnant Queen of L'Manberg. Luckily, she lives and gives birth to third son of King Philza, Tommy. Unfortuantely, Dream cannot live without his precious flower. He steals the golden-haired prince and hides him away from everyone, so no one can take away his youth again. Years later, a boy called Tubbo accidentally discovers a small house hidden in the mountains as he runs from Technoblade and his hounds. A great life-changing adventure has just began.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 27

Extra: You can only read this if you have an Ao3 account

https://archiveofourown.org

Little Flower: By Canadiantardis

The floating lights only came up the night of his birthday, Tubbo had learned. Hundreds upon hundreds of lights floating up the sky, just within view of the opening of the grotto’s opening. While Father had forbidden him from leaving the grotto, there had been a time, on his seventh birthday where he couldn’t sleep and snuck out to watch the sky, to see the moon, when he had seen the floating lights for the first time. Instantly, he had been entranced, and he had watched until he was close to passing out before he hauled himself back to his room, knowing Father would be furious if he found him by the entrance.

Tangled x Platonic Soulmates AU

Status: Finished

Chapters: 15

https://archiveofourown.org

AVIAN AU 𓅪

Avians (The Gods Have Spoken): By Your_Local_Valentine

Techno blade was nobody special. Really, he wasn’t. He was just some homeless rat in the streets, with no purpose in life. He’d been on his own since before he could remember, being raised by any other homeless person on the streets. He was not anyone important. He wasn’t supposed to be important. Until he woke up one day with wings. - Every god has chosen someone to be their angel. The god of Time, Chaos, even Death. They have all chosen their angel to represent them on earth, to protect the mortal plane. People who already had power in the realm- people of royalty. The only one who has never chosen an angel is the God of Blood. They never have. It was speculated that they were evil- that they hated angels and wanted to kill the gods and everyone else. Until that fateful night.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 8/?

https://archiveofourown.org

I'm Not Tired (Please Let Me Sleep): By Nissified

The blonde sighed and closed his eyes, the familiar ringing starting up in his ears again as he started to count backwards from thirty. At twenty, glass shattered and contorted voices screamed in his ears, leaving him almost deaf. He ignored them to the best abilities. At fifteen, he felt the sensation of someone punching him in the face, the pain almost enough to make him open his eyes again. At eight, something stung on his cheek, followed by the sensation of something dribbling down the skin. Something thick and warm. At three, the screeching became unbearable. At two, something snapped his wrist, the dull pain almost enough to pull him out. Almost. At one, he felt the blade of a knife digging into the skin of his throat, the pain would follow soon after. Zero.

or: Tommy is just some random dude who keeps getting attacked in his dreams by a particular bloodthirsty green Teletubby. Unfortunately, this leads to him not sleeping much and passing out on the Syndicate. They're more than just flabbergasted upon finding out he's got no clue who they are

Status: Finished

Chapters: 21

https://archiveofourown.org

Imprinted: By Euripides406BCE

Prompt by @corpseyreads on Twitter: SBI superhero au- where civilian tommy, with newly grown wings, dares to leave his apartment for the first time since manifesting them He doesn't mean to end up in the midst of a hostage situation with the syndicate

Some SBI supervillain madness with some fun Origins shit thrown in!

Status: Finished

Chapters: 40

Extra: You can only read this if you have an Ao3 account

https://archiveofourown.org

Every Flight (Begins With A Fall): By SilentTeyz

The crows continue to surround him. Maybe they know he isn't a real crow, sense the impostor. Tommy would have laughed if it wasn't for the hundred fucking crows watching him like a walking bag of food. He is about to get ejected. He is about to fucking die.

OR Tommy dies in the prison and respawns in the body of a crow. Phil and Techno are clueless that this angry injured fledgling is actually Tommy.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 11

https://archiveofourown.org

VILLAIN AU ☯

the world forgetting by the world forgot: By bonesandthebees (bonesandcacti)

“Something has been stolen from us,” Thanatos said, his wings puffing up as he spoke. “Something that is very important to us. And we are fairly certain that the person who stole this thing of ours is in this very crowd.” Dream tensed beside Tommy as the crowd broke out into murmurs. Eyes were darting towards the different heroes in the crowd, the benefactors no doubt assuming that the culprit had to be a hero. “Like we said, we haven’t crashed your party to cause trouble. But we want this thing returned to us, and we won’t hesitate to take extreme measures to get what we want.”

or, Tommy was a lot of things: a newly debuted hero sidekick, an amnesiac, and a former kidnapping victim of the Syndicate. Tommy didn't actually remember that last one though. That was just what Dream told him. Only weeks after his hero debut, the Syndicate announces they are searching for something, and Tommy knows it has to be him. The scariest part? If they find him, Tommy will have no clue what to expect, because the Syndicate might know him, but he has no memories of them. So he can't let them find him. No matter what. Of course they end up finding him anyway.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 21

https://archiveofourown.org

tommyinnit's clinic for supervillains: By bonesandthebees (bonesandcacti)

“W-What do you- I mean can I- are you here to rob us?” The person managed to stammer out. Siren snorted. “No. I’m just here to order some food.” “Wh-What about him?” The cashier asked, glancing at Tommy. “Did you- did you kidnap him?” “I mean… yeah, let’s go with that in case this ends up on the news,” Siren shrugged, looking back at Tommy. “I kidnapped you, right?” “Yeah, sure,” Tommy agreed, knowing that if they said he was kidnapped, it would keep people from getting suspicious of why he was seen in public with Siren. “Anyway, can I get the chicken nuggets happy meal, with a coke?”

or, how Tommy—who is not a hero, or a villain, or even a vigilante—saves the life of one of L'Manberg's most feared supervillains, and accidentally ends up becoming the resident doctor for every supervillain in town (and maybe gets a family along the way too).

Status: Finished

Chapters: 26

https://archiveofourown.org

Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain: By SeriouslyCalamitous

“Be my apprentice,” Icarus blurted. Tommy blinked. Gradually, the corners of his mouth dropped into the deepest frown he’d ever made. “What the fuck? Why?” “Why?” Icarus froze and Tommy raised a judgemental eyebrow. “It’s because of your powers.” “My powers,” he echoed. “I never told you whether or not I had powers.” “I can… sense them,” Icarus bullshitted. Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. What are they, then,” he retorted. “Uh… super… powers,” the villain answered, sounding more unsure of himself by the second. Tommy wanted to bash his head against a wall. “Really? That’s the best you could do?” ------ Tommy isn’t sure why handing someone their keys is such a big deal, but now he’s left with a huge problem: Every supervillain in the city wants him to be their apprentice!

- or - Tommy’s lame superpower turns out to be a game-changer.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 39/42

https://archiveofourown.org

Tommyinnit’s Guide To Familyfying The Syndicate On Accident: By Six6

He turns to look back and… Is that fire in his apartment? Wait, no - Is that… IS THAT FIRE ON HIS COUCH?!?! Oh, the tragedy. It hurts, it hurts in more ways than one. That couch was Tommy’s whole life, his dreams, his love, his family. And that stupid, motherfucking hero that’s getting beat up in his apartment set it aflame. This is Tommy’s villain arc now. He’s a villain. He’s gonna take down the hero organization and dominate the world. This is his turning point; it’s set. No going back now. Whoever that fucking hero that’s getting beaten up in his apartment deserves what he’s getting right now for what he did to his beloved couch. He deserves worse, actually. Fuck that fiery hero. If he remembers correctly, that fiery hero that’s getting beat up is Hero Flame from the Dream Team, actually. And the one beating him up the way he deserves is… The Blade…? Great. They just broke the floor and fell another story down. The fuckers set the whole apartment aflame, and is that screaming he’s hearing? ~~~~~~~

Or Tommy somehow manages to keep getting himself into very fucked situations and familfys a group of anarchist villians called Syndicate. Did I say familfy? I mean friendify.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 11/?

https://archiveofourown

A Mockingbird In The Crows Nest: By LilBitO_Sunny

“It seems like someone set off multiple bombs at the News Tower. Looks like Pyro’s work- but we can’t be sure. The entire building is on fire, but Soulfire is across the city-” “I’m on it.” He said instantly, cutting her off. “Call Charon and Peleus, too. There might be people trapped on the higher floors and we’ll need to get them out.” Tommy’s excitement screeched to a halt at that. “Get Warden, too. We need someone who can breathe smoke to get in there and help us look.” Erebus continued, but Tommy wasn’t really paying attention. People? What did he mean by people? There weren’t any people in the tower- it was nearly 2 am. Why would there be people at a news station at 2 in the morning?? The Villain League would never intentionally hurt innocent people. Then his ears popped, and he heard the screams. Oh god.. What has he done?

Or: Tommy's a supervillain tasked with going undercover at the Hero's Tower. His job is to gather information, sabotage what he can, get their identities, and get out..But he doesn't expect for people to actually like him. He doesn't expect the enemy to treat him kinder than his own family.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 37

https://archiveofourown.org

run boy, run: By 212rime

Tommy was many things: feared, free, powerful… but he wasn’t proud. He wasn’t proud of the title he had or the name they’d called him, honestly he didn’t think he deserved it. Tommy never had an evil plan, or a secret lair, or any of the cool things villains had. All he had was a shitty apartment and the clothes on his back, and a desire for more. He couldn’t be a civilian, and he certainly wouldn’t be a hero, so he did what he had to do. At fifteen years old, Red Death killed the top heroes in L’Manburg, and Tommy became a villain.

Or: Two years ago, the top heroes of L'Manberg were killed by Red Death. Now, ex-villain Tommy tries to juggle the fallout while also forging new relationships, some of which may be more complicated than they seem.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 23

https://archiveofourown.org

Everything Will Be Okay: By erynestel

So, Tommy was pretty sure he was in a video game. How he came to that conclusion, you might ask? Oh, well, you know, he just went to sleep one night in the bedroom he shared with the two other kids at his latest foster home, clutching Henry to his chest and trying to ignore the snores from the bed across the room – and then woke up somewhere else. In an alley. A fucking dirty alley overflowing with trash, he might add. He was pretty sure he’d even heard rats scattering around somewhere. It also had been winter, the morning air cold and quickly seeping through his thin pyjama. The only other thing he’d had with him were Henry and his blanket, laying on the ground. You know, just your typical Tuesday.

OR Tommy wakes up in a world where the new video game everyone is talking about is *very* real. That includes the three main villains, heads of an organization called ‘The Syndicate’. But it’s totally fine! He just has to make sure he never meets them – he’s got a feeling they won’t be pleased about another crow hybrid in an otherwise hybrid-less world.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 2

Extra: I usually wouldn't add in ones this short but this is like in my top three DSMP fanfics

https://archiveofourown.org

One Man's Trash: By SilverWing15

The kid is glaring down at him and eating a partially moldy apple like he’s daring Wilbur to come fight him for it. “What the fuck?” Wilbur says. The kid takes a huge chunk out of the apple and definitely doesn't chew it enough before he swallows. “You got a fucking problem, asshole?” “I mean...kind of?” Wilbur says. “There’s a child eating literal garbage in front of me so I feel like that’s a bit concerning.” “Shouldn’t you be robbing a bank or getting your ass kicked by superheroes?” “Shouldn’t you be in school?” The kid snarls wordlessly and chucks an empty carton from some chinese place at him. “Fuck off man. Forget this dump.” “What, you know a better one to eat from?” “I know one that doesn’t have a fucking weirdo supervillain in it!” The kid slams the lid of the dumpster down. Rude.

Or: It was only a matter of time before I did a superhero AU

Status: Finished

Chapters: 17

Extra: You can only read this if you have an Ao3 account

https://archiveofourown.org

FANTASY AU ✧

bones in the ocean: By bunflower

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?” —

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 19

https://archiveofourown.org

Only at the Ocean Floor: By Kokichis_Panta

Tommy has never been one to get too close to the surface. He's been above it a few times just for a couple of seconds, but he never saw anything interesting. Though after he started to keep an eye on the surface more, he'd sometimes spot a large shadow trail past him. It would usually drop down ropes weaved together that would pick up fish and bring them back up to the surface. He had to admit that he grew jealous with how easily it picked up a hundred fish and had tried to craft his own out of seaweed. It didn't work. He supposed it wasn't that much of a loss. After all, siren claws were sharper than mermaids, he could hunt better than Niki anyway, he didn't need a fish catching contraption. Though when he told the girl about his discoveries, she quickly forbade him from ever nearing the shadows again, especially the weaved ropes they dropped into the water. Fine. He could just look at them from a distance. Until, he got too curious. So curious that he peaked his head above the water just for a second. It was an interesting sight to say the least. That shadow wasn't exactly just a shadow, and for some reason there were some strange creatures on it. Ones with two flesh sticks for a tail.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 2/?

https://archiveofourown.org

Few Mercies For Fools: By MathanLin

“Bullshit. That’s the dumbest thing you could do.” “And why would that be?” Too many responses to count flashed through Tommy’s mind. This man was going to kill him, there was no denying that. No denying that Tommy had been stupid. That mantra had gotten him through the night, sure, but it wasn’t true, and now he was going to die. In the forest, he didn't know what was coming to kill him. Now, though, he knew it would be this man, with his soft cloak and softer eyes, Tommy wasn’t so afraid. Might as well encourage him to make it quick. “Because I know where you live, you rebel fuck,” he spat. “I know exactly where we are.” ///

Or, the SBI coven adopts a foul-mouthed child soldier with trust issues.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 30

https://archiveofourown.org

MODERN AU ⾕

there's something about the soots: By No_one_you_know

It’s common knowledge that you’re supposed to avoid the Soots. Sure, the father, Phil, is nice, but his three sons are most definitely crazy The oldest- Techno, talks to himself, and there are rumors that he killed someone once. Wilbur is an actual psychopath- he was the one that burnt down the barn all those years ago. And Tommy? He’s just… Weird. Tubbo is new to town, having just moved in with his cousins, Fundy and Niki. He doesn’t know the rules. Which is why he approaches Tommy one day, and his whole world is changed.

Tubbo and the Sleepy Boys Inc. There's kind of a light magic system involved but it's not convoluted i swear

Status: Finished

Chapters: 26

https://archiveofourown.org

Build This Unsteady Bridge: By odymcbea

Wilbur was exhausted. It was raining and his throat hurt and with every step, Tommy was getting heavier in his arms. But he’d already made the kid walk so far today and in all honesty, Wilbur would rather deal with sore arms than a six year old’s tears of exhaustion. Finally, Wilbur stumbled onto the street they tentatively— and illegally— called home. It was lined with identical townhouses, one of which was currently empty. They’d been squatting in it for nearly a month now. It wasn’t the safest place they’d ever slept, but when it came to insulating them from the winter chill, Wilbur would give it five stars on any hotel website. Unfortunately, the window he climbed through was not the one they'd been using these past few weeks. This window belonged to the most terrifying man Wilbur had ever laid eyes on.

Or, while on the run, Wilbur and Tommy accidentally break into the wrong house. Technoblade finds them asleep in his living room. Family ensues. Eventually.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 10

https://archiveofourown.org

Home Is Where Your Heart Is: By arcticjaybird

It’s quiet. Tommy doesn’t like it when it’s quiet.

Tommy was loud. Tommy was combative and hostile and defensive and aggressive. Tommy was destructive. He knows he’s a problem child, constantly getting into trouble and wrecking any semblance of a family he might have left. But he doesn’t stop- he prefers the disgusted looks and constant new faces to the heartbreak that comes with caring. Tommy’s been bounced from home to home for most of his adolescence. This place is supposed to be a new start with people who care, but Tommy can’t bring himself to open up. He knows it’ll only end in pain and bitterness. He has his friends and support system, and he tells himself it’s all he needs. “We’re here.” He was told. “Try not to fuck this one up.”

Status: Finished

Chapters: 18

https://archiveofourown.org

Theater Major: By Annex

Tommy hasn't seen or spoken to his brothers in almost seven years. And it was supposed to stay that way. In fact Tommy wasn't ever supposed to see or speak to his brother until they apologized to him. Or at least that's what he thought. Now in his senior year in the most prestigious school in the country due to a very strange set of circumstances, Tommy is shocked to find his out his brothers are coming home a semester early and are going to be staying at home with him again. With his whole world shaken and his perfectly crafted world crumbled by this news, Tommy figure out how to manage his knew home life with his current school life. Not to mention he's also part of the school theatre program that is much more demanding than anything he's ever done before. Tommy has to make it through his last semester of high school, last show with the school that has done so much for him and now his entire schedule and life has been thrown to the wind by his family. And why are they acting like nothings wrong? ----

Or Tommy's a theater kid who now has to deal with fact that his brothers are disrupting the life he had ever so perfectly created in the massive wake they left behind.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 23

https://archiveofourown.org

If I Lie, Maybe I'll Believe It: By weepingvirtue

At sixteen years old, Tommy knew so many things. He knew that people were predictable and selfish. He knew not to trust, not to take, and not to get comfortable for too long. He knew that the concept of family was as fake as the highlights in his last foster mother's hair. Tommy had known for years that life was painful and had no extra love for some ratty foster kid like him. He knew that it was him and his copy of The Odyssey against the whole world. He knew that he only had to survive long enough to make it to his eighteenth birthday before he could escape. But when Tommy ends up fostered in the Watson household completely by chance, he finds that maybe he never knew anything in the first place. //

or, the one in which Tommy Innit has never really experienced love, family, or belonging, and is suddenly surrounded by it all at once.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 30

https://archiveofourown.org

His Curse of Binding: by orphan_account

Tommy had lived and died as Theseus, Icarus, Orpheus and Sisyphus. But all he wanted to be was free. In which Tommy Soot, originally born in 1509, is cursed to be reborn, to never reach adulthood unless he figured out the Greek myth of his lifetime. He had one rule of not allowing himself to get attached to people but he would have never guessed that a foster family of the creator of Minecraft, an anime stan and a Soundcloud musician would break that rule.

~ SBI Foster AU but with Greek mythology.

Status: Completed

Chapters: 30

https://archiveofourown.org

VIGILANTE TOMMY AU ✩

This is Not an Act of Spite: By ellis (ellabellachicketychella)

Could the universe be kind enough, so that Tommy could get a damn break from the mess that is his life? Please? Just for one day. --- Okay, so maybe coming to the interview with a few broken ribs was a bad idea, but what choice did he have? Just not come and keep on being unemployed? Several bad things could happen during his interview, given the circumstances. There was an AI in the building designed by Vulcan which not only kept unwanted people from getting in, it scanned people for any unauthorized weapons or injuries. There was also the problem with his illegal documents since he wasn't an actual adult. But the biggest risk is that the job is at a hero organization. And he's a vigilante. Which are highly illegal. ---

or, yet another vigilante tommy au... except this time, there is at least one brain cell (you can figure out who has it)

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 45/56

https://archiveofourown.org

TommyInnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death: By eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”  Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen? “Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or, in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or, a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 30

https://archiveofourown.org

No Cause for Concern: By hedgehoggeryyy

So maybe applying for a job at the heroes' base of operations when he could be arrested any moment for being an illegal vigilante wasn't Tommy's smartest move. But he gets to work with his idols — Ghostbur, the Blade, and Philza Minecraft, Angel of Death himself, just to name a few — how could he turn down that opportunity, honestly? And keeping his two identities separate can't be that difficult, really. It'll all be a piece of cake. ---

or, tommyinnit just wanted to pay the rent and save people at the same time. things can't go his way for just once, can they?

Status: Unfinished/Discontinued

Chapters: 35

https://archiveofourown.org

harness your hopes: By thanotaphobia (blue000jay)

“Well,” Phil says, letting go of the blond’s mouth and wiping his hand on his pants with a grimace. “There’s my unethical deed of the day.” “You committed tax fraud this morning.” “I did no such thing.”

(or, the ethically dubious vigilante!tommy fic, where SBI are crimelords and Tommy just wants his best friend back, man.)

Status: Finished

Chapters: 9

https://archiveofourown.org

Into the Night: By Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-” They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise. “But why?” Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them. “You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.” “And I don’t want to come back.” Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die. But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad. ---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught. A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Status: Finished

Chapters: 8

Extra: You can only read this if you have an Ao3 account

https://archiveofourown.org

Tommyinnit a Vigilante? Never.: By greenpinkroe

Tommyinnit leads one of the worst double lives in history. After his parents death Tommy was quick to take care of himself, and soon his close friend as well. He became a vigilante because he was never able to have the same opportunities considering his financial condition. So as a remedy he gets a grant based internship with a highly respected corporation. The very corporation that helps with any legal work that heroes face, meaning Tommy is surrounded by the people trying to catch him for the better part of most days. His biggest issue now is for them to never find out, and to do the occasional coffee run.

Or, I read a Hero fic with Tommy as a vigilante and fell in love with the idea.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 30

https://archiveofourown.org

Rogue: By milk_tea24

Tommy ran. He ran as fast as he could. He needed to leave. To be safe. And he thought he finally was. He made it out. Away from the monster who raised him. Tommy found friends and got a job. But he screwed everything up like he always does. Now what can he do but what he does best. Go Rogue. ______________________________

Or, Tommy escapes Dream, after being locked away by him for years and becomes a vigilante.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 33

https://archiveofourown.org

OTHER ☻

Stay underneath my wing: By sircantus

"Wilby says that- that if a stranger ever tries to grab me, I can bite them." Tommy nods, giving a little glare towards Techno and his bitten hand. "Okay." Technoblade says slowly. "But don't bite me." "No, I'm gonna bite you." ---

SBI Zombie apocalypse AU, in which Tommy is a little kid who's been separated from Wilbur. While Wilbur is on a desperate search for his little brother with Phil, Tommy stumbles across Technoblade, who is the definition of 'no chill' in the zombie apocalypse. Techno accidentally gains a new little brother.

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 33/?

https://archiveofourown.org

mayday, mayday, mayday: By always_an_anxious_mess

“Mayday mayday mayday, this is Ship 268454, CCS Clara, does anyone copy?” After an accident that he isn’t even sure how occurred, Junior Crewmember Tommy Innit is stuck out in the dead zone of space with a dead crew and on a damaged ship. No nearby inhabited planets. No nearby stations. Nothing. He’s billions of kilometers away from any hope of rescue, and has to figure out a way to safety. Not only that, for the first time in his life, he’s completely alone.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 30

https://archiveofourown.org

The Children's Rebellion: By Aria_Cinabun

His name was Tommy Innes, and he was born to touch the stars. Of course, touching the stars was going to have to wait, because he'd lost that dream the moment his parents had died when he was ten years old—the moment he had watched that starship explosion and felt a bit of his heart die with them. He'd lost that dream when he was transported to prison and then to a place called Pogtopia. He'd lost that dream when he watched hundreds of children starve on the streets of Pogtopia. When he and two friends become the lone survivors of the Red Planet's Genocide. When they were rescued, and he was captured again. But maybe—maybe one day, he would regain that dream. Maybe he would hunt down the mass murderer that had executed his friends and gain his revenge—but that day was not now, and now he sat in a prison and stared at the faraway stars. Perhaps there would be people that he could call family again. People he would see again—people whom he had lost years ago. One day. Because he was an Avian, born to be forever alone amongst broken stars. And Avians did not fall unless they wanted to.

or a science fiction fic about rebellion

Status: Finished

Chapters: 58

https://archiveofourown.org

Just One Mistake (is all it will take): By Bluestrasa

Whisper blinked, dumbfounded. “Nix what—” “Tommy! Tommy, can you hear me?” She scooped up the body and Whisper finally got a decent look at him. He was young, too young to be passed out alone in a rainy alley. His blonde hair was darkened by water and streaks that must have been blood if his batter face was anything to go by. His skin was pale and his body trembled slightly, even in unconsciousness. Whisper moved side by side with his partner, pulling out first aid supplies and searching for major injuries. “You know this kid?” he asked.

--- or --- What do you get when one of the city's most famous vigilantes is actually a sixteen-year-old with the opposite of flashy powers and severe trust issues? A tragedy in the making, that's what.

Status: Finished

Chapters: 38

https://archiveofourown.org

TommyInnit's Maladjusted Magic School Experience: By MikiIsDying

Tommy was bullied for being a late-bloomer in the magical world he was born in. Tommy dreams of being on the magic battle field, but he lacks magical abilities. Disregarding the fact he lacks all qualifications, he applies to go to the most prestigious magic combat training school in the country. By going there, Tommy hopes to be like the famous witches he idolizes. Tommy waits in excruciating anxiety for his acceptance letter to arrive. -

or The writer has nothing better to do in their free time so why not make a terribly written rendition of mcyts but as witches. -

Basically this story is mainly the Dream SMP characters in a fantasy school setting :) Tommy centric + mainly SBI & BenchTrio moments

Status: Unfinished

Chapters: 45/?

https://archiveofourown.org

The Last Heist: By crystalSkiez

In Manburg there's no mercy for criminals. Getting caught by the guards is an immediate death sentence. Tommy has managed to avoid them for 9 years now--by day, as an arrogant pickpocket with a mouth almost as fast as his hands, and by night as the renowned Underground thief known only as Theseus. Things are going well, all things considered. And then he gets a message from the infamous Antarctic gang and everything goes to shit. Now Tommy has to handle pulling off the heist of his life, all while hiding his true identity from both the tyrannical government and his new associates in the most feared gang in the city.

or I wanted a sci-fi found family AU with the SBI gang

Status: Unfinished/Discontinued

Chapters: 34

https://archiveofourown.org

If you're new to DSMP fanfiction I recommend starting with 'tommyinnit's clinic for supervillains' and 'Butterfly Reign' as those two are big parts of the fandom. If you get into fanfiction, you're bound to hear about those and you might be confused if you haven't read them. Another popular one is called 'passerine' but I personally am too much of a wimp to read it cause it's full of angst and will for sure make me depressed. That one might be the most popular by far though, even I know basically the whole plot and I haven't touched it.

If you have an recs for me I'd be happy to see!

[anawrites3]

Slade is looking through the contracts on his tablet when his phone starts ringing. He frowns, having not expected any calls - Dick left to meet with his brothers, Rose is still mad at him, Joey is busy with one mission or another and Billy went away on a much deserved vacations. Still, when he picks up the phone it's Dick's name that appears on the screen.

"Little bird?" He asks in a way of greeting.

Silence answers him and Slade draws the device away from his ear to check if the call is still ongoing. It is.

"Dick?" he tries again. Maybe Dick didn't even know he called him? Touch screen phones like to be a pain in your ass like that.

Just as Slade is about to end the call, a heavy tired sigh is audible through the line.

"Slade, I-" Dick sighs again. His voice gets a bit muffled, as if he was rubbing his face with his hand. "I need to ask you for something."

"Alright?" Slade frowns again. "What's going on?"

"It's..." Dick starts before laughing shortly. It's not really a happy laugh. "I need you to pick me up."

Out of all the things possible, that was not what Slade expected Dick to ask him.

"Pick you up?" He repeats, getting up on his feet. "What with your bike? Richard, if you got into a fucking accident-"

"No! No, I didn't, I promise I'm okay, Slade! It's-" Dick breaks off with another tired sigh. "It's just... Jason. Stole my tires."

Slade stops in the middle of shrugging his jacket on. He waits a few seconds for Dick to elaborate but he remains silent on the other side of the line.

"Jason." He drawls. "Your little brother. Stole the tires from your bike."

"Yep." Dick answers, popping the 'p' in a way Slade hates. "In a true Batman fashion. He even threw the tire iron at me and all."

For a few more seconds they stay silent, Dick waiting him out and Slade trying to grasp the information.

"Soooo..." Dick starts again. "Will you come get me?"

Slade sighs, "I'll be there soon."

[raineandsky]

#98

“And lo! Here approaches my best knight,” the king announces to the jester as the knight squeezes through the door. The poor jester looks thankful to see her as he hurries out of the king’s gaze. “Come, show me your skill.”

The knight throws a few carefully angled swings for the king. He watches with a delighted expression, but she can see the soullessness in his eyes. Her stomach flips uncertainly.

“You are an excellent swordsman, knight,” he says flatly. “Now, tell me, why should I allow you to stay within my walls?”

The jester averts his gaze awkwardly. Is she about to get fired? “… Because I’m an excellent swordsman and your best knight,” she tries, and the king huffs in his telltale way of saying WRONG.

“Perhaps that was on me for being unspecific.” He picks up a wine glass from the golden table next to his throne, swirling it idly. “I hear you liaise with dragons.”

The knight’s attempt to keep her expression neutral fails miserably. The king watches with keen interest as her eyes widen and her mouth moves in an abysmal attempt to form some sort of defence. She’s acutely aware of the jester watching curiously too—whatever she says next will be the castle’s gossip for the next month. Maybe two if nothing of interest happens before then.

Well shit. Might as well fall into treason headfirst.

She reaches a hand into the front of her breastplate, earning a soft squeak from something inside. The king leans forward on his throne. The jester peers as close as he dares.

Her hand comes back with a short purple string laced around her fingers. Or she does at first glance, and closer inspection reveals her ribbon to be a tiny dragon, yawning and digging tiny claws into her fingers.

The king roars so loud the dragon startles. The knight and the jester don’t fare much better. “Beast!” he howls.

“Beast! Beast! Beast! Beast!” the room echoes back to them.

“You bring this creature within my walls?” he demands. “You slander my name—my rule—with your disregard to my kindness for you?”

“She’s harmless!” the knight cries over him. The dragon isn’t a fan of the racket, and is making a great effort to slip up her sleeve. “She looks after my finances.”

“Disgusting beast,” the king spits.

“The dragon,” the jester says quietly, valiantly ignoring the way the king’s stare snaps to him, “is your accountant?”

The knight fishes a coin from her pouch, gently tapping the dragon with its edge. Its gaze snaps to her gold, its past endeavour with her sleeve forgotten as it grapples for her coin. It twists its body around it excitedly, gnawing at the edge like a toddler, a quiet hum emitting from it as it does.

“That noise it is making,” the king shrieks, “it is going to attack!”

“No!” the knight shouts over him. “It’s like a cat—she’s purring. It means she’s happy.”

“Dragons do not purr,” the king retorts, but the dragon is undeniably making a noise that sounds remarkably like purring. The jester takes a cautious step closer.

The knight tucks her finger under her chin, giving it a hearty scratch. The dragon’s humming gets louder, her eyes closing blissfully at the touch.

“How does it… work?” the jester asks. The knight offers him a smile that she hopes conveys how grateful she is for his interest in the face of the king’s disgust.

“She takes my coins—my salary, my earnings, anything.” The knight adjusts her hand so the dragon sits more comfortably in her palm. She doesn’t seem to mind, too busy clamping her jaw around the gold to notice. “She keeps a hoard no one but her can find. I earned her trust, and whenever I need money she gives it to me.”

“She is a thief,” the king spits, but the rage is losing momentum in the face of such a cute little thing. The knight doesn’t miss how she’s suddenly not an ‘it’.

“I give her all the money she has. She’s just better at keeping money than most humans,” the knight says with a grin, “because she doesn’t spend it all in a tavern.”

The jester snorts. The king raises his eyebrows. Silence falls for a moment as they all watch the dragon get comfortable in the knight’s hand, her tiny body choking her coin, a claw wrapped around her thumb as she nestles in and closes her eyes.

The jester lets out a short “aww,” that’s louder than he probably intended.

“Tsch,” the king says. He leans back in his throne like he’s lost interest. “A beast is a beast. I am most displeased you were disloyal to my word, knight.”

“I apologise, your majesty,” the knight says. It’s all she can say, really. “I will fix things.”

“You… may keep the thing,” the king continues after a moment of intense deliberation. The knight attempts to not to look too surprised. The jester doesn’t even try. “But it is your accountant and nothing more. If I discover it torching my palace I will execute both it and you.”

“Accounting is what she’s best at, your majesty,” the knight says brightly. “You’ll never have to see her again.”

The king nods shortly, though his gaze is traitorously locked onto the purple ball in her hand. “I would not be adverse, knight,” the king says slowly, like he doesn’t quite want to, “if you felt it right to study. We did not know dragons purr, or like coin.”

“Your majesty?”

“Gather your resources and come back to me with knowledge of the beasts.” He waves a hand dismissively. “I will reconsider your treasonous actions if you can prove that your creature poses no threat to my rule or my people.”

A lot of questions are rattling through her brain. “Your majesty, what do—”

“That is all. Jester!” The king turns his attention away from her and back to the jester as he takes centrestage, looking a lot less stressed than before. He gives her a subtle nod and the lightest smile—a small gesture between the servants of the castle, a simple well done.

The knight leaves the hall with the king’s uproaring laughter following her. The dragon stays curled in her hand, and she runs her thumb over it carefully, the dragon’s body warm and prickly to the touch.

A knight to a scholar in one conversation. She doesn’t even know how to write.

[ziracona]

The fortune teller had shown him this. A week ago. Such a tiny handful of time.

He had simply thought, ‘the fuck was that?’ and shaken it off, to do his job. Like always. He had forgotten, turned away, and moved on.

Pavel was not supposed to believe in ghosts.

There is a fork in the road, and one leads down, endlessly, and you will not be the one to decide which way you go, but you will be the one to walk it.

It was too impossible to explain.

He didn’t think he could have with a year, if he tried. Everything, it was so easy to know, so impossible to express.

Pavel hadn’t wanted to die. He hadn’t wanted to kill Artyom. He had never wanted to drug him, and hand him over for interrogation. He had tried to explain that, but somewhere along the way, he had realized that was impossible too.

He didn’t hate the Spartans; he didn’t want to poison D-6, or Oktyabrskaya. But it didn’t matter, and it was as impossible to explain now, as that had been then.

No, it was more.

The simple truth was that D-6 was going to be taken over, if not by them, then by the Nazis. By Hanza. Maybe by a Ranger gone rogue. If they’d had a sleeper, who knew who else might be hidden inside. And it only took one to end everything.

They had to be the ones with D-6. People would die. Like a giant chess board, Oktyabrskaya would burn. Sacrifice a pawn. Take a bishop. There were no bloodless wars. This was the best that existed in reality: the war with the least blood. It was the best war offered. The lesser of evils. And the Red Line could provide that—equality, peace, order, structure, safety. Nobody else could be trusted to do it. Nobody else would. With every other faction, it would us vs them forever. With the Red Line, eventually ‘they’ would all become ‘us.’

But the rangers would not surrender. They would not give them D-6. It must be taken by force.

And that meant the only choice was how to do it. How many of their people died before the rangers were gone.

It wasn’t about honor and clean fighting. It was about strategy, and the most men going home still breathing. Even if it looked like this.

But of course Artyom had to be here.

It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t his luck torn him to shreds enough the last month already?

He had sort of hoped Artyom would be in Polis. Away from D-6, alive. Staying alive too. Shit. But here he was. And Pavel couldn’t let him through. He had orders, and the orders were right. The orders were ‘kill him.’

He was too strong, too connected, too lucky, too goddamn lucky. And he knew too much.

So either Artyom would die here. Or he would, and so would all his men.

Fair, right, love and war? At least that part was simple.

He couldn’t let him through. He couldn’t look the other way, or give up. Pavel had the same responsibility to fight as hard as he could, that he knew Artyom had, for his Spartans.

If only you’d taken the goddamn offer. WHY didn’t you take the offer? Why couldn’t you just join us? We would have taken you in! You could have stayed! I tried! I really tried! It didn’t have to end like this! This wasn’t the only version of the story.

But. Maybe it was.

The thought was a painful ache. He wished he only understood duty when it was his own.

There was nothing to do then, but kill each other.

Drawing on d’Artagnian was wrong. He hated it. He despised it. But he did it, because the only betrayal worse, would have been not to do it.

A rock and a hard place.

Nowhere left to go.

So he did the only thing he could, for either of them. He yelled.

Pavel mocked, and he baited, and he spat insults down from the roof and the scope of a rifle, taking shots at the friend down there who had saved his life three times, and was taking shots back at him. He played his part as hard as he could. If he killed Artyom, at least he would know Artyom was angrily firing back at an enemy, not dying for faltering on the trigger, not wanting to shoot a friend. And if Artyom killed him, then Artyom would live with the memory of how despicable and callous the traitor had been in his last minutes, not the pointless wondering of if it could have been another way.

It was the only mercy he had to give.

And as the fight drew on, and bodies dropped, and shots rang out, Pavel became more and more convinced it would be the latter.

Somewhere along the way, he looked over as a floodlight beside him shattered, and he realized he was the only one left. It was quiet in the yard.

Just him. Just Artyom.

“Come on up! Come and finish this!”

He reloaded, watching the ranger breach the first floor, hugging walls for cover, fighting in the way Pavel knew. It felt wrong to know. It gave him an edge, an edge he only had by working beside Artyom for so long in the trenches of the metro. He could only hope that Artyom held the same edge towards him, and take his next step forward.

Maybe this is what she meant, he thought, yelling insults of cowardice down the stairs, and taking expert shots at the man he had worked so hard to protect. Sending a bullet through his arm. Down is death. The other path is life. And it’s up to how quick Artyom’s draw is.

It almost felt out of his hands like that. And it was, as he caught a round in the side in exchange, another in the hip, and fell back, bleeding, up the stairs.

He kept shouting, kept taunting. Do not hesitate, d’Artagnian. Hate me, if you want to win. Remorse will make you slow.

Slow meant time to think. Slow meant time to regret, meant time to look back and think, ‘I could have made another choice.’

Pavel saw Artyom stick his head out from the edge of the stairwell, and shot him in the shoulder, taking a round to the chest in return.

That was the one. He felt it tear inside him, not pass like a lucky shot through muscle. That was it then. He was going to die, now. There was no way he could win. He would be too slow. It was over.

No. Unless he lowers his guard because he shot you, and you’re dying.

“Come on, Artyom, come on, come up here, blyadj! I I can't chase you anymore, but I can still put a hole through your head if I see it—don't you worry!” he called with all the venom he could muster, coughing the wet cough of blood, and dragging himself back, trying to find somewhere to retreat.

Artyom must have listened, because he stuck an arm out and fired blind, catching Pavel in the arm and the side. The force flung him to the floor, and Pavel grunted and coughed again, fighting a little to breathe and move at the same time now, dragging himself back along the floor. Unable to stand.

My filter is almost up. I can’t stand. It’s over.

There was no use. Even if he killed Artyom now, he would die before being able to deploy the virus in D-6. There was no longer a duty to kill Artyom. It would accomplish nothing, but the loss of a friend.

Pavel let go of his gun, and dragged himself back as far as he could, until he hit a little table by the far wall of the second story, and watched the entryway with something more like dread than he had expected. But not fear. —Pain. Sadness.

It didn’t have to be this way.

It hadn’t. It didn’t. But it was too late now; it was.

I wish I could explain. There must be words, somewhere, the right ones, that someone could have put into an order to make all this make sense to his silent musketeer. He understood, so there must be a way for someone else to as well.

But Pavel didn’t have it. He couldn’t explain that it had had to be this way, and what was done was done, and he had meant all of what he said, about the Red Line, about the metro, and about Artyom. It was just…

But I can’t. I can’t explain you are my d’Artagnian, and it’s okay to kill me here. And I know it.

So he would do what he could. It was easy, to kill an enemy and walk away.

Easier for Artyom, who would live.

But it wasn’t the truth. And he wished he could have kept that.

The tall shadow of the young ranger darkened the doorway to this last hall, and the bloodied figure approached and stood over him, gun raised, movements careful. He paused, surveying the clearly empty hands and weakened state of his enemy, and he lowered the gun.

There was a moment where Pavel thought somehow, things were not going to end the way he was so certain. Some strange miracle, like the other times Artyom hadn’t been the last thing he’d seen, but the person who’d gotten him back up instead.

Then Artyom holstered the gun, and drew a knife.

“Oh, a knife ah?” he asked, voice taunting, apathetic, eager. He knew it wasn’t ‘a’ knife. It was the knife he’d given him when they met. When they saved each others’ lives the first time, in that death camp. But there was no point left in saying that. He had not wanted to kill Artyom painfully. Why make him live that way either? Athos was supposed to look after d’Artagnian, after all. And he was also supposed to die.

“That ‘ma boy, that’s my boy! Давай - давай! No remorse, no reproach!” he called, fighting to make each syllable egg his friend on this one last time. “Давай!”

And Artyom came. No, ‘Why!?’ no angry shouts of blame, just silence and movement, falling on him almost like a cat, and dragging him up, a knife to his neck.

He should have slashed his throat. Pavel was as close as he could be to ready for that. It was the best he could offer, and he’d made it to the end.

And instead.

There was this.

The small dark one had grabbed him, and he’d been dragged into a memory like he was there again, in the flesh, his orders, less than a day ago. And at the mention, at the thoughts of infecting, poisoning Oktyabrskaya, D-6, Artyom, he had been overcome from the inside by something that felt like an echo and a whisper and a scream.

Pavel didn’t know the voices he heard, yet somehow he did. He knew them like he’d heard them all his life.

A good communist did not believe in ghosts, but he knew it was the phantoms of Oktyabrskaya, of everyone he had had to kill to get this far, reaching out for him. A cold, awful sound, like a dying breath, shrieking a testament to all his sins.

His bones felt like they were being overtaken by ice. His head was pounding, so much it was hard to see. And he couldn’t move. Everywhere, there were hands—arms—grey and boney and dead, charred corpses burned away so fast and so unfairly, so inexplicably, they couldn’t understand they had had to die. And Pavel didn’t know what they were, or how a cave of twisted bodies making up wall and ceiling and floor, hands everywhere you could see, devoid of muscle like a rotting corpse, could hold him back—could exist at all—but, they had him. They had him and he could not get free. He felt hands on his arms and wrists, ankles and feet, his legs, his sides, digging into his head.

They could not be this strong! Even wounded, he should have been able to break free, to run! But it was like he physically could not. Like they had been made to hold him, and him alone.

And across from him, in the dim red light of this impossible hell, was Artyom. No gas mask here, face clear, eyes almost blank as he stared back at Pavel. He didn’t look shocked. He didn’t look afraid. Like…like he knew.

A sudden terror gripped him. Pavel didn’t know how he knew, but he knew with absolute certainty in every fiber of his being that if he didn’t get out now, he was going to be here, feeling himself bleed to death while hands dragged him apart, forever.

“Hey! Artyom! What’s up with you!? Hey, hey! My friend! Artyom?!”

The response was automatic. He had not been afraid to die. But whatever this was? This, it terrified him. He could feel it trying to eat him alive, to tear back his soul piece by piece, like it was picking apart his skin, and he couldn’t even move!

A second cold wave of fear crashed over him as he remembered that he had seen this before, with the soothsayer. He had seen this exact scene, from the third person.

No, he realized with a terror like your grip on a cliff face slipping, From Artyom’s point of view. I saw what he’s seeing. And this is the choice.

God, he was going to leave him.

He had not moved when Pavel called out. He was just staring.

God please, no.

“Artyom! Artyom—please! Artyom!” he called, the terror in his voice now, “Don’t leave like this!”

Artyom took a step forward, and then another, like someone sleepwalking, and Pavel felt terror mingle with relief, and then he saw patches of Artyom grow transparent. Like he was…fading.

No.

“Artyom! Kill me!” he shouted, thrashing with building desperation, “Kill me! Artyom!”

The hands were sinking into him. Pain shot through his arms and legs, his gut, his forehead, and he screamed.

“Artyom! Help!” His voice was breaking, and he fought with everything he had, but it was killing him. It was making him like it, and he could feel it. “Artyom!”

His friend met his eyes, and Pavel felt despair run him through as he realized what was going to happen to him, now, and forever. He couldn’t take it, but he was going to anyway. There was nothing left.

And then Artyom’s expression changed, and there was a familiar look in his eyes. Pavel had seen it. Through the bars in that Nazi cell, and from the noose choking the life out of him at his public execution, one last time on his back in that plane, looking up at the frantic ranger trying to force a gas mask over his head.

Artyom ran for him.

Pavel wanted to cry. He felt like he was being ripped to shreds. “Faster...” he begged weakly, straining towards Artyom with everything he had, “Can't take it...”

Artyom reached him; fingers dug into his coat and ripped him free. Pavel felt himself fall back against the ground. Saw Artyom above him. But, his brain was past processing anything but the whispers of condemnation, calling him to join. Anything but the fear and pain of dying forever here.

The hands were everywhere. Still reaching, grasping, trying to pull him back. His eyes found Artyom’s.

“Anything...” he begged. Almost a whimper. He couldn’t find the words. He could never find the words, and it would be his soul this time. Because he couldn’t…

The Ranger was looking down with the same almost violent distress in his eyes as before, and then he dropped on top of him, dragging Pavel into himself. For a moment, he thought he was being attacked. “But not...” he pleaded weekly, voice muffled against the bloody Ranger armor, and then as no more pain came, he realized d’Artagnian was shielding him, and he stopped.

Things changed.

The shrieks faded, the chill, the hate. He couldn’t breathe, but Pavel didn’t care. All he had wanted, was to be away from those things, and he was. It was enough. He let his eyes shut.

Vaguely, Pavel was aware of being moved, but he was too weak to move or to look. Even choking poisoned air into his lungs was about to be too much. But then, there was a click, and his breathing eased again. An air filter… must have…

He tried to open his eyes. He wanted to say something. Maybe, ‘Thank you.’ But, that wouldn’t be right either. And his body could not find the strength for any words, and it dragged him under, into a deep sleep. Still breathing.

One last time.

[imavikingo]

Everything Steve Grant Rogers knew about love was heartbreak and loss.

First it was Molly from second grade, Susan from his english class in seventh grade followed her, after that it was Michael and Jonathan from his figure drawing class.

Of course not all of them were of romantic love.

When he was told of his fathers death, that broke him a little too, It was more manageable because it happened before he was born.

And then… his mother took her last breath alone in an hospital bed, and that was the worst pain he could endure in his life, or that was he thought at the time anyway.

No.

The worst pain of his life was losing Bucky and keep losing him every damn time, no matter what he did and no matter the circumstances.

First it was losing him in the arms of pretty dames with soft voices and softer lips, then to the war when he was finally drafted.

When he knew of his status as missing, of course he got to him without a second thought of doing stupid things like wasting time for backup or approval.

It was imperative the speed of his rescue mission, Buckys life was on the line and Steve wouldn’t sacrifice him for stupid and unnecessary rules.

Without Bucky there is no Steve Rogers after all, not a sane one anyway.

The train incident made him break completely at last and he couldn’t take it anymore.

They didn’t even let him go looking for Bucky.

How dare they?

At least that way he could’ve gotten a little bit of closure, but no.

The missions were more important of course.

Of course….

When the opportunity of sinking the Valkyrie was presented to him on a silver platter, he just took it without hesitation.

At last, he could be reunited with Bucky and the endless cycle of heartbreak could end.

.

.

.

Of course that wasn’t what happened, of course that couldn’t be his end.

[pardonmydelays]

i also think it's kinda cool how tyler makes me want to learn stuff

[khwxbeeda]

"Tera wrist theek hai ab?"

"Fucking shit!"

Raghav pressed a hand to his chest and glared half-heartedly at Ranveer, cheeks burning at the amused smirk on his ridiculously handsome face.

"Dammit, dude," he exhales, "give a gay a warning, shit."

Ranveer snickered, and Raghav rolled his eyes before turning back to the music app on his phone.

"Hoy," he answered grumpily. "Theek ahe ata. Dukhat nahi."

Ranveer scoffed, reaching up to grab his T-shirt by the collar and pulling it off in one smooth move. Raghav hurriedly looked back down at his phone, not wanting the other boy to see the blush that was no doubt spreading across his cheeks, and almost missed what he said.

"Mai Marathi nahi bolta phir bhi I can tell you're lying," Ranveer said, turning around to dig into his bag for his kurta and ghungroo. Raghav's traitorous eyes dragged over the exposed tan skin, noting the smooth muscles and the broad shoulders and toned biceps—

He looked away, biting the inside of his cheeks and gulping down the sound that wanted to climb up his throat.

"You are absolutely not fine," Ranveer continued, completely unaware of Raghav's inner turmoil. "You're shit at lying."

"And- and how would you know that, Your Royal Thighness?" Raghav snarked back, mentally applauding himself for only stumbling over one word instead of the entire sentence, and Ranveer snorted and sniggered at the nickname. Or at least, Raghav thought it was for the nickname. He was promptly proven wrong.

"Cute stutter," Ranveer said with a wink that hit Raghav like cupid's arrow through the heart, "but that kind of gives you away, Patil."

Raghav huffed and folded his arms, pushing his lips into a pout and turning his nose up into the air.

He was absolutely not blushing at being called cute. He was not.

"You can't prove shit," he muttered, and the other boy laughed outright as he pulled his kurta on, messing up his hair in the process. Raghav barely held in his groan. He wanted to mess that glorious hair up. He wanted to slide his hands through it and pull, wanted to feel the silky strands between his fingers, wanted to hear the sounds Ranveer might make, wanted to use his hair to drag him into a hot kiss—

Stop right the fuck there, Raghu.

He pushed the thought away. Ranveer opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the studio flew open.

BANG!

It slammed against the wall hard enough to make both of them flinch, and before Raghav could even look at who it was, fingers were curling around his collar and yanking him off the bench.

"PATIL! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, HARAMKHOR?!"

Ayush. He was fuming, red in the face and breathing heavily, eyebrows dragged down into a thunderous expression. Raghav got his feet under himself to stand up straight, anger bubbling in his stomach and eyes narrowing into a glare.

"I don't know, Ayush," he said, inserting a subtle note of challenge into his voice, "what did I do that's got you so riled up?"

"YOU—"

Ayush roared and pulled back his fist. Raghav flinched and threw his arms up in an effort to protect himself, eyes squeezed shut in dreaded anticipation of the pain.

The punch never came.

"LET ME GO!"

Raghav slowly opened his eyes, then felt his jaw go slack.

Ranveer stood behind Ayush, fingers curled tight around his wrist, stopping him from moving forward and making it look effortless. The sleeves of his kurta were rolled up, and the muscles in his forearm flexed minutely when Ayush tried to push him off. He did not move even an inch.

Ayush glared at him. "Let go of me, man," he growled.

Raghav's eyes flicked to him and then back to Ranveer, who slowly tilted his head to the side and regarded Ayush with an amused smile, the kind that you gave to a kid when it was throwing a tantrum.

"No, I don't think I will, actually," he said evenly, eyes glittering with something that made a shiver run down Raghav's spine. There was something in them that almost made it seem like Ranveer had been waiting for this. What this was, Raghav had no idea, and he was not sure whether he wanted to find out or not.

Ayush tugged his arm again, but Ranveer held fast, smile growing from amused to condescending.

"You see, Ayush," Ranveer said pleasantly, "Raghav here did not come to practice the other day. And I went looking for him because he's not one to miss practise."

Ayush tried to pull his wrist away again, but the taller boy held fast, fingers flexing around bone in a manner that threatened breakage if Ayush did not stop moving. The look in Ranveer's eyes changed to something darker. "Imagine my surprise when I see his hurt wrist, and the bruise on his shoulder."

"He got his," Ayush snarled. "Walking around thinking—"

"And then," Ranveer steamrolled over him, narrowing his eyes into a dangerous look that had Raghav unconsciously shifting in unease. That was scary, but also... hot.

"And then, he told me that you were the reason for his injuries."

Ranveer laughed— a sharp, scathing sound that cut through the air like a whip, and oh Gods, Raghav was having revelations about himself. Fuck.

"You," Ranveer said, smile on his lips that implied exactly how much he respected Ayush, "who can't even pull your wrist out of a simple hold."

For show, he flexed his fingers, and Raghav felt like his cheeks were going to burst with how much blood rushed into them.

Gods fuck, that's hot.

"Why's it your concern, huh?" Ayush spat. "Trying to protect your twink boyfriend, you faggo—"

CRACK

Ayush's head snapped back, blood spraying from his nose. Raghav leapt back with a gasp as the boy screamed, hands coming up to cup what Raghav was sure was a broken nose. Within seconds, Ayush's hands were covered in blood and tears were streaming down his face.

"MADARCHOD," he howled, but Ranveer laughed in his face, a sharp, cutting smile curling over his full lips.

"I've been waiting to do that since I saw Raghav's wrist," he said in a casual tone that was completely at odds with the gleam of gratification in his dark eyes. "It was exactly as satisfying as I'd fantasised it to be."

"I'LL GET YOU BACK FOR THIS," Ayush shrieked between sobs of pain. "I'LL GET YOU BACK, YOU COCKSUCKING FAGG—"

CRACK

Ayush screamed again, and Ranveer carelessly shook out his hand, smile showing too many teeth. "Sach me, yaar Ayush," he drawled, "you should know better than to use slurs right after you've been punched. Shows poor form, especially when you can't even block a punch you already know is coming."

Ayush glared at him through puffy, tear filled eyes, and Ranveer simply smiled back, the picture of innocence if not for the blood smeared on his knuckles. Raghav had the sudden, wild urge to laugh, but he pushed it down.

"I'll get you back for this," Ayush choked out, and stomped towards the door, sobs wracking his chest. The door slammed shut behind him.

The studio was quiet for two seconds. And then Ranveer was striding towards Raghav, a worried look in his eyes. He reached out and rearranged Raghav's collar with gentle hands still covered in crimson.

"Tu theek hai?" he asked in a low, soft voice, hands coming up to cup Raghav's jaw, eyebrows scrunched in worry.

Raghav snapped.

He lunged forward, throwing his arms around Ranveer's neck, and pulled his head down to smash their lips together.

Ranveer yelped, but his arms unconsciously wrapped around Raghav's waist and pulled him in closer, till they were pressed so close together they could not tell where one began and other ended.

Raghav pulled back, stared at Ranveer with wild eyes, then lurched for another short, forceful kiss. Then another. And another.

"You—" he exclaimed, then kissed him again, "need to—" another kiss— "stop being—" one more kiss— "so fucking sexy!"

He punctuated the last word with one last, long, searing kiss, eyes fluttering shut and arching his back against Ranveer's body, slipping his tongue into the taller boy's mouth and pulling a soft noise from deep in his throat.

When he pulled away a few seconds later, Ranveer looked dazed— eyes wide and blinking slowly, lips swollen and gently parted.

They stared at each other, and then Ranveer slowly swallowed.

"So," he rasped, "you like me, then?"

Raghav rolled his eyes. "Take a wild fucking guess, sweetheart."

And he slammed his mouth back onto Ranveer's.

.

@orgasming-caterpillar @musaafir-hun-yaaron @h0bg0blin-meat @godnonsensical @yehsahihai

[stabbyfoxandrew]

omg guys yesterday i said i was gonna answer asks and disappeared sorry TWT

[the-desert-beast]

The adrenaline violently coursed through his veins.

Eyes fierce and wild, wounds bleeding, his gargantuan prey frenzied and frightened, he finally felt alive. The creature in front of him was bleeding badly, hamstrung, wounded, he and his companion had been toying with it. His taloned gauntlets dripping with his prey's blood, he aimed another precise, violent slash at it's neck.

It recoiled, a furious guttural sound leaving it's throat.

Snapping it's jaws at The Beast, Paola took the chance and lunged, biting as hard as she possibly could on it's wounded leg. The thing's serpentine neck squirmed before whipping around to grip Paola in it's deadly jaws, but she was already gone.

The Beast took the opportunity to deal the final blow; ripping it's throat open.

One last spasm, a death rattle, and the massive Hydra fell limp, bleeding out into the sands of the desert. He looked over the work of himself and his companion. (”Too easy.”) he thought to himself, more in empty dissatisfaction than in anything resembling “proud.“

The adrenaline subsided. The blood dried. He felt empty, again.

He crouched down in front of the creature's mouth, carefully removing two of it's most fearsome fangs. One, a personal trophy, the second, Paola's newest toy. And after skinning some of it's remaining usable hide and taking the more intact, and delicious cuts of meat, his mind began to wander on the walk back.

He thought of nothing particularly coherent.

His and his tiger's footfalls left prints behind in the soft warm sands.

He thought of when he used to feel something.

The warm sands gave way to harder sandstone, dirt and grasses.

He thought of how useless, meaningless, all this- being alive, felt.

Hours had passed.

Stuck in his head, his feet lead him down the rest of the path back home instinctively.

He thought of the ways he'd numb himself again.

Usually, he'd feel some amount of relief upon entering his lovingly cluttered home.

The amber light of his favorite lanterns hanging from the ceiling illuminated the red, orange, and gold colors of loved trinkets and fabrics strewn about the house.

He looked over his extravagant bed, cluttered with all manner of patterned throw pillows, a few larger deep red pillows he'd actually use. The black sheets were unmade- Had been that way, for two weeks now. It had been a long time since he cared to relax.

His trophy cabinet stocked full of fallen foe's fangs, horns, scales, furs, armor, jewelry- It all felt like nothing as of late.

His liquor cabinet, filled with his favorite, very expensive whiskeys, rums, and a few wines, was the most used thing in his house. This was always the case, but it was a hindrance during weeks like these.

No relief came.

He put everything from his hunt in it's rightful place, threw Paola her new toy- which she happily caught, wandering off to curl up in her favorite sun-tanning spot. His mind had turned against him the moment he had killed his latest hunt and the fight had ended.

Huffing a sigh, grabbing his medicinal supplies, he mended his wounds with the bare minimum. Disinfecting with his favorite alcohol, taking a swig, wrapping them in bandages that he'd remove sooner than he should. He could feel nothing. He washed, dried, and polished his custom-made gauntlets. Only danger felt like anything these days.

This sort of habit had become far too common as of late. He couldn't make himself care whether he lived or died. (”What would Zefiro think of me, if he caught me thinkin' like this- In this state.“) he thought to himself, pained at the thought of Zef worrying over him- Worse yet, scolding him.

Rolling his shoulders, a habit of his, he attempted to banish the worst of his thoughts from his mind. He sipped more of his favorite whiskey straight from the bottle.

Too tired to hunt anything else.

Not the kind of tired that allowed for sleep.

He could think of only one reprieve;

more alcohol, and sex.

[unnamed-atlas]

Finally finished sweet tooth s3. Having incredibly mixed feelings