#good for fics tho! hehe

[sysig]

Softly, slowly, I want to love you anyway (Patreon)

[justfriendsbestthings]

Simon’s Month Day 25: Soulmates

@youngroyals-events

[eternal-brainrot]

read @evilhasnever's wonderful meryao series last week and meryao has not left my mind since, i am obsessed with him!!!! the mental image of him peeking menacingly out of the bathtub is especially important to me sdnjhfshj

bonus lil sketch under the cut :3

[am3ricanh0rrorwh0re]

me at the Weezer concert (i had a stye in my eye AND got hit in the same eye with a random person’s elbow)

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

another fic of mine woah 😩

fandom; house md

can be interpreted as non slah or slah between house/wilson

summery; wilson is dying, being taken care of a person. but wilson cant remember who they are.

word count; 1.3k

tw; major character death.

a/n: i dont have ao3 so it shall not be put up on there. if it is notify me, ill say if i have given permission as if someone asks i probably will say yes.

this was based on the song "rises the moon - liana flores"

rises the moon.

days seem sometimes as if they'll never end.

its august. the 20th if we're being exact. coming to the close of summer and the opening of autumn, usually being my favourite time of the year. cozy sweaters, warm socks and scarfs, the perfect weather. usually sunny with a nice breeze. well, i wish i could enjoy it. instead, im stuck in bed, my breathing laboured and my body shaking. though, this year, summer was my favourite.. june. i really enjoyed that, when i could walk without aid and just, enjoy life. ever since mid july, ive been deteriorating quicker than an abandoned building, which has been agonising. i want the pain to go away, please. it hurts..

but i dont want to die.

from the bedroom, i hear the singing voice again, a soothing melody. their voice smooth and deep. i sigh softly, it being a sort of comfort for me, knowing at least someone was there and i wasn't alone. their humming and muffled singing drowns out the continuous beeping of the heart monitor besides me. they had stolen the machine after faking being ill in a walk-in clinic, once the doctor had done to complain to the dean about them being an ass, they smuggled the monitor and brought it back. the good ol' days hm? that day was probably the most ive complained and laughed for a long, long time.

a mass than sat on the bed, the weight shifting slightly on the mattress. i ket out an involuntary groan, my back being slightly unsupported.

"hey, i made some broth for you.. its 1, and i think you should at least try and drink it for me," they murmured.

the bowl, of what i assume was broth, was set down on the small table besides me. soon enough, long, lanky arms were wrapped around my middle, gently pulling me up to sit up. wait.. what time did they say again.. 1 was it? only.. 1?

the sun digs its heels to taunt you.

the rim of the bowl was scarcely pressed to my lips, the bowl being slightly hot. i signal them to tip it a little so i can take a sip. and so i do. and holy shit..

thats fucking amazing.

the warm, soupy liquid runs down my throat, a sort of feeling i dont get that often, especially being warm. the way he flavours mix together is phenomenal, the spices and the subtle beef. its flavourful, but not enough to freak my taste buds out, which happens all too often now.

"is it okay?" they ask, their voice soft and gentle.

i hum with a slight nod.

but after sunlit days, one thing stays the same:

rises the moon.

days fade into a watercolour blur.

its been.. maybe a week? my sense of time is so off, it could be a week for a few days.. lets say its been a few days - to make me feel better. im now slipping in and out of consciousness, which is concerning in itself. i dont know how long im out for at a time. theyve been becoming more and more worried about me. i mean, there was always an elephant in the room, hell even when i was first diagnosed. but, the elephant has been growing larger and larger than before, making it hard to ignore. we have to adress it sometime.

but its hard to breathe.

then im awoken by a coughing fit.

it shakes my whole body, racking everything as i shut my eyes tight, desperately trying not to wake them up behind me. but, of course they woke up, they always do. i tried to savour the two, lanky but muscular arms around my abdomen, as they were warm and comforting, but soon, all i could feel was pain.

"are you okay?" they ask, their voice still a bit groggy from sleep.

i hum, my voice still hoarse even though i barely made a sound.

this just reminds me of them, i swear something to do with an infarction to the leg. but i cant quite remember.. or remember them.. their face is slightly recognisable, but not by a lot at all. my memorys been wracked up.. pisses me off, i wanna know whos caring for me. i wanna thank them, using their name, recogising their face.

memories swim up and haunt me.

"hmm.. mm!" i hum, trying to catch their attention.

they run over, quickly turning me on my side and holding the bucket to my mouth. i start to cry as i retch, vomiting harshly into the bucket, they rub my back gently, mumbling words of encouragement and reassurance softly to me. finally, i stop. glancing down at the small puddle of bile and saliva, i frown slightly.

look into the lake, shimmering like smoke.

i look into their eyes. my, coffee like brown into their, ocean like blue. scared and helpless meet concerned and determined. they run their skinny, pianist fingers through my frail hair. they always wanted to care for me, secretly.

rises the moon.

"close your weary eyes, i promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken faded summer skys." they pause for a moment. "breathe, breathe, breathe."

almost immediately after hearing that, i start to cry, just a full on breakdown. they quickly embrace me, wrapping their arms around my middle. i dig my face into theit shoulder, tears still rolling down my pastey cheeks. its nice.

oh to be hugged like this again.

days pull you down just like a sinking ship.

its been a day? maybe.. i dunno anymore. it might've been 2, 3, 4 a week, who knows - not me thats fot sure. it might be september now, i last remember it was august, that seems like yesterday. them, my carer, whatever, i dont know their name anymore. i dont know who they are, i cant see.. its all blurry and fuzzy, so is my memory. i cant remember the last time i ate..

floating is getting harder.

"im sorry.." they mumble, their voice snapping me out of my thoughts - though it was barely above a whisper.

their thin fingers run through my hair again, gently letting it fall between the gaps and repeating.

oh, i forgot to mention, i also cant speak.. or breathe for that matter. i think the tumor - or tumors more like - have begun to press against my trachea and esophagus, making his hard to both eat and breathe. wheezing has become a normal, daily routine.

considering my condition,

i have tonight,

and thats it.

because of my fate, i keep repeating a phrase i once said to a child as they went through chemo. they had no parents, i was the best thing they had..

but thread the water, child, and know that meanwhile: rises the moon.

days pull you up just like a daffodil.

its the next day, i think. its really hard to just think. the weezings gotten worse, i feel awful, like horrendous. its awful... maybe i am ready to die. i can just subtly feek them holding my fraile hand, stroking their thumb over my knuckles. only barely. im scared, terrified more like. i dont even know who they are, but im scared for them.. they'll miss me definitely. what will they do when im gone? i dont know..

uprooted from its garden.

once again, i feel consciousness slip from underneath me. which is normal, very. but this wasn't normal.. i could still hear.

"they'll tell you what you owe," they mumble. "but know even so, rises the moon."

i try to smile, a small twinge of my lips. but nothing happens. i try to tell them i love them, but again, nothing happens.

"you'll be visited by sleep. i promise that the autumn comes to steal away each dream you keep." they choke back a sob.

"breathe, breathe, breathe." houses voice sobs.

they're house.

but its too late to tell him i love him.

[krowscrawl]

"You let me bring back Lazarus, why not him? You brought me back. Is he not worthy? Is he not worthy?!"

— Back Again, by Beserk on AO3

[god-of-this-new-blog]

“Well,” Light whispered conspiratorially. “You’re my best friend.”

Amnesia Haze by @lightyaoigami (Praise_Lilith)

[goldenhypen]

; ⎯ GOLDENHYPEN’S DARK BLOOD REQUEST EVENT ?! [CLOSED]

in celebration of enhypen’s new comeback, dark blood, i will be opening drabble requests! here are the rules:

send me an ask with:

one prompt from this list;

an enhypen member of your choice;

any storyline/details/genres you’re eager to read.

reminder that this is a sfw blog, meaning, all works are sfw skdjdj

only one request per ask please!

you can submit multiple requests, just separate them into one req per ask.

please be patient! i’ll try to get all requests out asap but please understand that i do have a life outside of tumblr too :)

i would also suggest reading the general req rules before submitting anything just in case; if i receive a request that breaks any of these, i’ll have to turn it down :(

also to clarify, the drabbles don’t have to do anything with dark blood or the concept or anything (unless you want it to be!) i just thought doing prompt requests again would be fun at a time like this!

and another thing, because these will be drabbles, this means your request will likely not end up being over 1k words.

i don’t have a deadline yet but for now i’ll aim to keep it open for a week or so (keep an eye on my pinned post to see the status of requests). happy requesting! REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED!

[rist-ix]

omg just read ch 17!! heart palpitations not even joking. I had to drink a glass of water and just stare at a wall for a few minutes lol. do you think you'll do intimate scenes like the one where Valtor is drunk or even smut after this?

thank you for updating🩶

BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA✨HA✨

Girl. Now is when the smut STARTS.

[mochinon-yah]

He was the gamemaster, and what he said goes. So, why was it different with you? Why did you, of all people, step out of the game? You were still supposed to be dancing on his palms, letting out the best of yourself to satisfy his greed; yet like an abyss-like one, there was no end to it.

LMAO IDK WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS, BUT YEAH 😭 @harmonysanreads

[rexscanonwife]

My message for the day: everyone LOOK at my baby boy 😭🫶💖 I got this comm from @skeltrr a while ago who finished it a couple days ago and I love it!

[wttcsms]

i love enemies to lovers but we’re unlocking a new dynamic that is enemies AND lovers

[narutobad]

Ok ok I'm normally not a person that would do this but I have thoughtts that have been eating me feom inside and I feel like ur insane enough (/pos) to understand this but like

Have ur ever got the energy Abt sasusaku being like tragic? I not really into them bc I never got the right vibes for them to really appeal to me so I never really cared or paid attention to them in a romantic sense but after seeing some ppl talking Abt them divorcing put this ideas into my mind of them clearly loving caring respecting and trusting each other but being together as in married or commiting ina relationship doesn't make them happy or it even makes them unhappy but the idea of letting go especially now it's so painful that they stay and even when they try to break it of they end up back together bc staying with each other is always a better option then being without the other even if they know it's not doing the good

But idk um a sucker for divorce and doomed tragic relationships and am being a bit delusional lol

i do think there is a lot of tragedy around sasuke and sakura's relationship, yeah. there is so much grief there, with sasuke's history and trauma and sakura's complicated feelings towards him, so many years of waiting and all of it festering.

i like to think that with time, patience and the love they undoubtedly share they're able to figure it out, and thats part of why i like them, how complicated their relationship is - but just as easily there is a possibility of them not being able work it out, of course. and that's also interesting.

i can see it going the way you're pointing out, especially if you consider how sasuke behaves in boruto, which i personally don't because i find it ooo. in that universe, divorce is the answer yup. god, they'd grow to resent each other so much, it'd be super toxic.

all in all, for sasusaku to work out, there has to be a lot of healing on both sides, so much maturity and grace in both of them. i could see sakura making herself smaller for sasuke, as she often did when she was a child, and sasuke being emotionally unavailable, and taking and taking from sakura. i could see them being stuck in that dynamic, loving each other so much still, unable to let go.

that is tragic indeed, but in my interpretation by the end of the manga neither sasuke nor sakura are those people anymore/they are well on their way of leaving those people behind, and that's why i place my bets on them figuring it out 😝

[a-lonely-dunedain]

12.............. with Corunir?

So you have chosen... Tur-Morva. *evil laughter* wherein the rescue instance goes horribly awry in a canon-compliant way

“Eth… Help me” Ethedis hears a weak but familiar voice behind her, one that she would be overjoyed to hear in any other circumstances and speaking any other words. She was a split moment from sprinting down the tunnel, where she had heard Bregadir frantically calling for a healer mere seconds ago. 

Instead, she stops and pivots around to see Corunir collapsed on one knee, breathing heavily and bleeding more so, a deep shadow of crimson growing beneath him. Horror sets in the pit of her stomach.

She stoops to steady him just in time as he falls forward into her arms. “I think… wounds reopened…” he mutters faintly as Ethedis struggles to reposition him to asses his injury. 

“Corunir…?” No response “…Corunir!” She calls frantically, still to no avail. He’s fading fast. She fights to bury the panic welling up in her heart. She has to stay calm if she is to have any hope of saving him. She prays someone else heard Bregadir’s call for a healer, she cannot help both of them.

There is a long cut on his stomach, that seems to be the primary source of the blood. The wound is not fresh, seeming days old yet healing very poorly. No doubt an injury sustained during the Grey Company’s capture and left to fester after he was thrown into that dark cell, just beyond the reach of his kin. It seems to have reopened in the battle. His strength has already been long spent, and this rapid loss of blood would be enough to push him over the edge. His face is pale and his breath slows with each moment, he is minutes away from death.

She puts her hand to the wound, applying as much pressure as she can in her already weakened state. “Please… just hang on. Just a little longer…” she pleads, blinking away tears. He cannot hear her. 

She takes a deep breath and turns her mind outwards, beyond herself and this small corridor. She does not know how deep below the earth they are, but deep enough that she cannot hear the slumbering trees or even reach their roots, but she doubts they would be willing to lend her their power anyway, not while it’s still winter. She keeps searching. She finds some moss, it wants to help, but it is too small for this task. 

After a search that, in reality, barely lasted a moment yet it felt like hours, she finally finds something. An underground river, flowing swift and strong beneath the earth, unaffected and uncaring of all else, yet holding great power. She begs the dark cold waters for aid, to lend her its strength and grant this dying man in her arms new life. 

‘Please. Please just buy him a little more time. Let me save him. It isn’t his time yet. Not here. Please.’

There is nothing. The river has no reason to care. She fears it will give her nothing.

Nothing, and then the sound of rushing water thundering in Ethedis’ ears alone, the shock of cold water in her veins, and an unfamiliar power flowing through her hands. Flowing like a torrent of water too powerful for her to tread in such a weakened state, yet tread it she must. She sends it into Corunir’s near-lifeless body. Close the wound, stop the bleeding, give him the strength to survive. 

There is water now, but not from the river, it flows from Ethedis’ eyes. Her hands tremble and her arms burn as though she has been swimming against the current of an ocean. Acting as a conduit of power such as this would test her limits even on a good day, and this was anything but ‘a good day’. 

She cannot do this. She cannot hold onto this river. Corunir is still bleeding. If she stops now it will not be enough to save him, but she cannot hold on. More water escapes her eyes, a sob from her throat.

Suddenly she feels another set of hands atop her own, calloused, worn, and strong. A familiar voice beside her, it belongs to Golodir.

“Easy, Ethedis, easy. You’re doing well. It will be alright.” If he is afraid, his voice will not betray it, and that is all the better for Ethedis. 

With the practiced confidence only an experienced captain could possess, he manages to steady her. She can hold on a little longer, she is not fighting alone, Golodir found them. He says it’s going to be ok, and she believes him.

She keeps it up just long enough, but not a moment more. She cracks open one eye and sees Corunir's bleeding has finally slowed, if not stopped altogether. Some color has returned to his face as well. She thinks it is safe to stop now. She looks over to Golodir and sees worry in his eyes, but no fear. He simply nods at her, she thinks she hears him say something, but she cannot make out the words. She lets go and collapses. She thinks Golodir caught her, but her body is numb with cold and she can’t feel much of anything. He calls out to her, but she lacks the strength to respond and consciousness quickly abandons her. Corunir is alright at least. Golodir found them, everything will be alright.

(Yaaay Golodad to the rescue! there was meant to be another part to this, where Corunir comes to later and actually has the chance to talk to Ethedis, but it wasn't coming together fast enough so I'll probably just add that part *gestures vaguely* "later". I DO like what I had so far, but it was my first time actually properly writing dialog between those two and I wanted to make sure I did a good job, ya can't rush it. you'll see it later.)

[jaeyleo]

tws: captivity, bloody nose, dehumanization, memory loss. lmk if i need to add more!

summary: puppet pink gets punished for forgetting a command. this is farther into the time he's spent with pseudo, so his gauge on reality is warped.

. . .

Watery eyes, sorrowful mouth. "I didn't mean to," Pink murmurs. "I just... I f- forgot.."

"You forgot?"

"I.... I- I forgot..."

The puppet keeps his arms close to his chest, wrapping them around himself for comfort. He feels terrible for what he's done. He should never stand when Pseudo says sit. Sit, sit, sit was the command. Not stand. Bad, bad, bad is the puppet. Not good.

"How could you forget?"

"My m- my- mmm- my--"

"Say it slowly, Pink."

"..... My...... memory...." Pink starts pulling at the shoulders of his shirt, curling into himself a little more, "it doesn't feel..... right. I'm f- ff- forgetting more and... and more..."

And more and more and more. He remembers remembering easier and quicker a few months ago. He remembers remembering bigger things, important things, and now he can't remember much at all. He doesn't remember why, but he knows Pseudo has always helped him remember when he should. Pseudo is good at remembering things. Pseudo is good at everything.

"I can't have you forgetting commands, Pink. Are you doing that on purpose?"

Pink shakes his head, eyes widening and coming back into the gaze of his guardian, his protector. "No no, n- no, on accident!"

The grip on his shirt tightens, and he feels the strong urge to fall to his knees and explain.

"Always a- always accident, I'm sorry, Pseudo, s- so sorry.."

"Come here."

Pseudo points to the ground right in front of himself, and Pink immediately complies. Falling to his knees before him, Pink awaits the next instruction. He shouldn't do anything without instructions, without permission, without being told to. He shouldn't have any free will.

His thoughts are interrupted by a strong, swift kick of the knee to his nose. Blood comes pouring, and tears come right after.

"Aahh!" it cries, digging its nails into its shoulders. It wants to hold its nose, to soothe the pain, but it's already forgotten why this happened and it doesn't want to be in any more trouble.

"Statue, Pink," says Pseudo.

And Pink freezes solid. Shallow breaths. Stiff as stone. He will stay there until Pseudo allows movement again.

Ten minutes pass, and the statue aches.

Ten more. Blood has pooled on the statue's clothes. It's dried up on its face, dried up on the ground.

Twenty more. Finally, it remembers why this happened. If Pseudo hadn't given the "statue" command, it'd be begging for more punishment. It deserves more than this, doesn't it? Though it knows Pseudo knows best.

Five more minutes. Its legs ache of numbness, its back wails from being hunched over. Its lungs crave a deeper breath. Pins and needles, all over. Pins and needles, pins and needles, pins and needles pinsandneedlespinsandneedlespinsandneedles-

"Puppet, Pink," Pseudo gently calls. He waits in the bathroom, clothes and bath ready to get the toy cleaned up. "Come to me."

A sigh of relief, relief. The puppet crumbles to the floor, scrambling back up to follow the command. Puppet, Puppet Pink.

[hearts-hunger]

im fucking exhausted from square dancing but i'm going to a haunted house with a zombie corn maze or some shit so wish me luck 🫡