#hesitantly posting this instead of just sending it to the ame

[iphisesque]

i am dirty, my lord, deliver me from sin

youtube | soundcloud

lyrics under the cut

lord, i am dirty you don't know what i would give to be picked up and washed clean i don't know how long it's been since you last dared touch my skin here or there, anywhere hidden

lord, i am dirty pick me up and take me back to the days before i fell hang me on the drying rack so you know i'll never tell what you did to me in hell

lord, i am dirty, dirty, dirty pray the rain will bathe me clean sun and wind will dry my skin bleach it pale to your liking

lord, i am dirty, dirty, dirty and i miss my mom and dad or at least what was of them 'fore you stole them, took their skin and you fooled me, wore it backwards

lord, i am dirty and the soap is running out there are maggots in my hair and my fingernails are brown now my skin is slipping down and you're giving me my crown

and lord, i am dirty don't you know how long i've been in this hell you made for me say a princess, say a queen i'm a kid corpse in your cabin

i am dirty, my lord, deliver me from sin

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Midnight Sanctuaries (Side B & Side C)

Reimaging An Offer from a Gentleman#3

Synopsis: Maria Beckett should know better. But there was nothing she could do. She craved love, she craved for warmth. And Richard Gunningworth didn’t know better.

But how Benedict Bridgerton knew better.

But how he was, a bit of a fool.

⚠️Trigger Warning: Mentions of sexual assault/ rape/ suicide.

AO3 post from here

Part one from here

“What is it, to woo a woman?”

Benedict Bridgerton spurred on his fifth glass of whiskey, contemplating if he should take the sixth.

“Not a lady, you mean?”

Alice eyed the man suspiciously, wiping the glass with a cloth. She was quite worried, seeing the second son of the Bridgerton family almost drown himself in whiskey. It was true that he had been dwelling in the stalls of the bar for years with a glass in hand, but he seemed to be improving.

“After a refreshing stay in Wilshire, I have gained a new perspective,” explaining to her happily a few days back.

“Well, yes, yes…a lady.” He added hastily.

“You must be at a loss, for a Bridgerton to be suffering in the process of a courtship!” Will laughed wholeheartedly, placing an arm over his shoulder.

“Might I ask who the lucky lady is? Which young debutant has captivated the eyes of a melancholic artist?”

Alice had expected Benedict to burst out in verse, declaring forever love and devotion to a young debutante somewhere in the ton, but his reaction was quite the opposite; instead, he sunk deeper into silence, dipping himself in another glass of wine.

“Isn’t she the one you talked about for years?” Alice asked a little hesitantly, “The women in silver you talked about-”

“What?” Benedict jerked from his intoxication. “No, no, no. Not her. Definitely not her.”

“Then who is she?”

Benedict decided to ignore the question altogether. He knew that he was being selfish, but anger and frustration had been slowly bubbling up in him. As he watched the young John Stirling whisper something teasingly to Francesca as her face flushed crimson pink, as they promenaded in the park arms in arms, giggling away happily about who knows what, Benedict couldn’t help thinking why he couldn’t do the same with Sophie.

He wanted to fill her room with flowers and bouquets.

He wanted to take Sophie to ice cream parlors.

He wanted to ask her for the second Walz at the end of the ball.

All the jealousy, all the longing, all the desire were flaming stronger day by day, and the overwhelming craving was killing him, making him lose his mind. How much he longed to just take her down in the closet or even the hallway, how much he longed to bury himself inside her arms…

“……Why does she keep rejecting me?”

“…So you are being rejected by this mysterious lady of yours? Hence this drinking?”

“How do you know that she’s rejecting me?”

“……You said those words seconds ago, Mr.Bridgerton.”

Benedict softly touched his mouth, regretting that he had let it slip. He knew what others would think of him if they knew he was trying to seduce a maid to be his mistress. He was seen as a respectable gentleman, and he didn’t quite want to lose the reputation he had from his fellow men. Not like Phillip Cavender.

“Well, …I…”

“So she has been rejecting you.”

Alice stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Perhaps, you are not her preference,” Will teasingly added, giving a pat on his shoulder. “No need to pounder, Bridgerton. There will be someone who would appreciate your looks.”

“No, no. No.” He denied quickly, “I am definitely in her preference.”

“How can you be so sure of that, Mr. Bridgeton?” Alice arched her eyebrows.

“Well…”

She said I look like her Prince Charming.

“I just know.”

Alice sighed deeply. Men, she quietly thought. So sure of themselves, not doubting any bit that they could be the reason for rejection. She quietly felt sympathy for the poor girl in question; imagining Benedict Bridgerton trying to wear her down with his charms.

“Have you been sending gifts to this lady of yours?” Will asked nonchalantly. “Perhaps she does not like what you have offered to her…”

Gifts…Gifts!

It suddenly dawned on him that Benedict had never given Sophie Beckett anything, maybe except for an ill-cooked breakfast.

One doesn’t have to be a mistress to be receiving gifts, don’t they?

“Mondrich, you are a great man!”

Already planning out a perfect scheme in his head, Benedict hurriedly slipped down from his chair, quickly grabbed his jacket, and ran to the door. He’ll tip the florist double the amount, he knew how to sneak into Genevieve’s shop at night….

“He’s going to do something awful.”

Alice murmured under her breath as Benedict disappeared from their sight. She wrote down his bills on the piece of paper sighing at the amount. He will have to pay, soon.

“……Why didn’t you stop him then?”

“Because,” Alice replied as she took a glass of whiskey from his hands, drinking it in a swig.“Men can’t realize their mistakes until they truly experience how bad one screwed it up.”

----------------------------------------------

Sophie was exhausted to the bone.

She had been running up and down the house all day long, preparing for the Bridgerton Ball that was coming up next Wednesday. After helping Miss Eloise with the dress in the morning, she also assisted Lady Violet with the penning of the invitation and also helped Hyacinth with her Latin and French. She also secretly mended the tear Miss Eloise had made on her secret escapades, secretly washed the cigarette stain on Eloise’s nightdress, and secretly delivered the letters Eloise had firmly told her; that it is a secret.

She truly adored and admired the Bridgertons.

But she was truly exhausted. Her feet were sore from bustling around London with Eloise’s secret errands in ill-fitting shoes that she had been wearing for years, her hands were cramped from all the writing and the mending she did for the day, and her fingertips were filled with cuts for every time Benedict Bridgeton came into the room.

Sophie wished she could be more calm in front of his presence. Sophie wished Benedict would not look at her so longingly. With his ardent, morning-dew eyes. His warm, sweet, eyes.

Sophie shook her head fervently, trying to erase the fantasy that dwelled in her mind. It was almost midnight, and what she needed was a good night’s rest, not the passionate gaze or the warm arms of one Benedict Bridgerton. Sophie staggered herself up the stairs, wanting to lie on the bed and curl up in her sheets. But before that, she had to mend a hole in her stockings, iron out her apron, wash herself up, and change into her nightgown…

Benedict Bridgerton was the last person she wanted to see in her room that night. He was sitting on the corner of her bed, his face lighting up as he saw her open the door. With the crooked, teasing smile on his face, normally his expression alone would bring her to her knees, but that night Sophie was just goddamn tired. Just so, so, so tired.

“Why are you here, Mr. Bridgerton?”

“You look tired, Sophie.”

“Mr. Bridgerton, why are you here?”

“Can’t I be here?”

“You can not be here,”

“So hostile.” Benedict tutted, pouting his lips ever so slightly. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

“No, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Come on, Sophie, I know…”

“Do you not hear me, Benedict?” Benedict finally noticed how cold and stern her voice was. “I am saying that I do not want you here.”

“Sophie, I just wanted to…”

“Did you not think that some could have seen you?”

“No, I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t think,” For the first time in her life, Sophie snapped, letting her anger get the better of her.

“How would the other servants think of me if they saw you in my room? They would think me as a self-serving whore-”

“Sophie, no-”

“And I would be fired from this position and…and…and…it would be very convenient for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Sophie, that’s not what I wanted to-”

Sophie glared at him with her moss-green eyes, and he noticed that Sophie’s eyes were filled with frustration. He staggered back, unable to say anything at all.

“Then what did you want to do?”

“I…I just…”

“Take me down on this bed, mark me as yours?”

It was exactly what he might have been planning to do.

“…And you call yourself a gentleman when you are no better than Phillip Cavenderー”

The next moment, Sophie was pinned up against the door, his hand grabbing her waist strenuously, his other arm slammed above her head, hovering against her by the door.

“You don’t mean that, Sophie”

His voice was dangerously soft, but there was a stroke of pain and fury, and Sophie realized she had gone too far with her anger. How could she ever compare him to Phillip Cavender? Benedict was far more sweet, far more caring, far more…

“I’m here because I love you,”

Sophie felt tears coming up to her eyes.

“…Please don’t say that.”

“I love you, Sophie.”

“You don’t know what you are saying.”

“I mean what I say, Sophie.” Benedict replied angrily, gritting his teeth, “I’m saying that I love you, and I want to take care of you…”

“If you truly loved me, Benedict,” Sophie was falling apart as she broke out in a sob, feeling the tears running down her cheeks. “Why would you ask me to be your mistress?”

But people have mistresses and by-blows all the time, Benedict stupidly found himself thinking despite his fury. What was wrong with having a mistress, if he loved her just the same, if he cared for her just the same?

“You’re hurting me, Benedict, don’t you know…”

“You have never thought how much you hurt ME, Sophie?” Benedict was almost losing his temper, he wanted to scream and roar if he could. Benedict tightened his grip around Sophie’s waist, knowing that his nails were biting into her skin, hurting her, scaring her. The awful side of him was wanting to hurt her, wanting her to feel the pain he had been suffering ever since Sophie had rejected his offer.

“I cannot breathe, Sophie,” Benedict’s words shook with anger. “I cannot breathe, I cannot live without you Sophie, knowing that you feel the same for me.”

He pressed his forehead against her, trying to regain his breath, trying to calm down the immense anger he felt towards her. He let go of his grip and instead placed them on the door, his nails biting the wooden plank.

“I love you, Sophie.”

“Benedict please don’t.”

“I love you.”

“Just…just, don’t, don’t Benedict”

Benedict slowly leaned in, softly nuzzling his nose against hers. Their lips were almost an inch apart, and if Sophie leaned in just an inch, he would have her sweet lips on his in a second.

“Tell me that you love me, Sophie.”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me,”

“Benedict,”

“….That you love me.”

Sophie’s lips were about to reach his, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the sweet sensation to reach his lips.

The next moment, he felt an immense pain slap across his cheeks, tasting the blood in his mouth. He staggered back, perplexed by the power she held.

“…….You’re drunk.”

There was a striking coldness in her eyes he had never seen before. Her hard, cold gaze was enough to sober him up in a second, but it wasn’t enough to deny her words.

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

Benedict instinctively reached out his arms, wanting to soften her, but Sophie stepped back, clutching to her shoulders as if she were protecting herself from him.

“No, no, don’t you dare touch me, Benedict.”

Benedict finally noticed that he was the stupidest man in the world. Benedict stood foolishly by the door, not knowing what to do or say, as he watched Sophie take another step back, shrinking into the corner of the room.

“I will tolerate, you dwelling on hallways,” Sophie said quietly. “I will endure you stalking me, sneaking and jumping up on me from hidden corridors.”

Benedict was beginning to notice how childish he had been acting as she spoke.

“But I can’t have you in this room, Benedict. This is out of the line.”

“…I apologize, Ms. Beckett.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’ll …I’m going to leave these here.”

Without even a glance, Benedict left Sophie’s room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Sophie collapsed to the floor, hardly processing what happened over the last few moments. It was too much, too overwhelming to think with her drained body, but his desperate voice echoed through her mind.

“I love you, Sophie. Tell me that you love me too.”

Sophie staggered to her bed, the very place Benedict Bridgerton had been waiting on a few minutes earlier. He had left her something on the bed, and Sophie finally realized that there was a bouquet and a beautiful small box placed softly on her sheets. It was Lilly of the valleys. Her favorite.

Of course, he would have remembered.

During their stay at My Cottage, Benedict had insisted on her accompanying on his walks. “What if I collapse on my way? I have just recovered from sickness, Ms. Beckett,” Benedict had asked her teasingly. “I would need someone to run to Mr. Crabtree.”

Long walks they took on the country streets of Wiltshire, talking about their favorite authors, plays, and paintings. Benedict would ramble about his siblings and she would laugh, and Sophie remembered how much she loved the countryside; enjoying the wildflowers that bloomed in the side, enjoying the peaceful breeze that surrounded her. As she glanced at his warm smile, she remembered how much she was in love with him.

“You like Lilly of the Valleys?”

Benedict asked as Sophie softly took the blossoms in her hands.

“Yes,” she answered. “We had them around the garden when I was a child. It was my mother’s favorite…”

“Quite suits you,” Benedict had softly said.

“Why so?”

“Do you know what they symbolize, Ms. Beckett?

“I’m afraid I do not know.”

“Return to love, Ms.Beckett,” Benedict whispered, softly kissing her fingertips as he reached for her hand.

With quivering hands, she opened the white box, covered with oriental embroideries. Inside was a beautiful pair of shoes, laced in silk ribbons and white velvet .

Why wouldn’t he know servants can’t afford such things?

Such a foolish, foolish man,

Still feeling the warmth of Benedict Bridgerton against the sheets, Sophie sobbed silently, clutching to the warmth he had left on her bed.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Mrs. Gibbons?”

Annabel sighed as she saw a crack open at the door, seeing a petite figure in the shadows.

“Go back to your nursery, Sophie.”

“But I can’t sleep, Mrs. Gibbons.”

“Go back to your room, Sophie.” Annabel patiently replied, glancing at the clock as it struck midnight. She knew she needed at least four more hours of sleep, before starting another day. “Go back to bed, and close your eyes, and if you count to three hundred…”

“But it’s so cold and dark,”

Annabel rolled her eyes, cursing under her breath. God in heavens where is the governess? It should be her, or at least her father that should be tucking her to bed, not the bloody housekeeper as herself…

But when she looked at her soft almond eyes that loomed too large for her face, she felt a stroke of pain and regret.

“All right, Sophie, come here my dear girl.”

As Annabel pulled back the covers, Sophie climbed desperately onto the bed, clinging to her arms as if she were saving herself from drowning. Annabel noticed how cold her hands and feet were, and her cheeks stained with tears. Poor, poor girl, she thought to herself.

“I can’t stop shivering, Mrs.Gibbsons,”

“You’re all right now, my girl.”

As she put her arms around the poor girl, softly cuddling her against her back, she noticed that she should have done this years ago when she heard her young, petite roommate sobbing under the sheets every night. At that time, she would ignore her desperate sobs, covering her years with her pillow, trying to get some sleep. She wondered how the story would have changed if she had stopped and listened to her deepest vulnerabilities.

“Why can’t you reject him, Maria?”

“Annabel, he loves me. And he is so lonely, ”

“Sophie, are you asleep?”

“……..No.”

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, all right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Gibbsons.”

“You can come here every night, Sophie. If you feel sad or have a bad dream, or you can’t sleep, you’ll come to my side. I’m going to hold you tight, and we’re all going to have a nice peaceful doze. Do you understand that, Sophie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Gibbons.”

“But I don’t want you crawling into anyone else sheets except me. Nor do I want anyone else sneaking into your sheets.”

“Why would I have someone in my sheets, Mrs. Gibbons?”

“I’ll explain to you when you’re older.”

“How old Mrs. Gibbons?”

“Old Enough, Sophie.”

“Old enough for what, Mrs.Gibbons?”

She was quite at a loss for words. Instead, Annabel tightened her arms around him, hoping to warm up the poor child.

“You are going to be a strong smart beautiful lady, Sophie.” Softly stroking her golden locks, she felt a tear dropping down her cheeks. “Your mother would have wanted you to be strong, strong enough to keep yourself warm at night…”

[bi-bats]

snippet with the word shine or puppy! (if they’re not there in any, then just a snippet you really want us to see)

Ahhh thank you for the ask!!! Unfortunately neither of those words are in any of my fics, BUT!! The fic that I am the MOST excited about is ALSO the one I posted a snippet of the other day, which you mentioned that you were scared for, so I'm going to reassure you with a snippet from that same fic

Before Jason knows what he’s doing, he’s across the rooftop and wrapping Tim in his arms, clutching him to his chest. “What- what are you doing?” Tim asks, his body stiff as a board. “I’m fucking hugging you, okay?” Jason snaps at him, his hand cradling the back of Tim's head, his fingers twisting a bit in his hair. Tim doesn’t loosen up right away, but after a few moments, he moves, tentatively turning his head so his face is resting against Jason’s chest instead being smashed into it. Hesitantly, he lifts his arms and winds them around Jason’s waist, his palms slowly sliding across his back until he's wrapped around Jason, too. “I don’t remember this being something we do," Tim mumbles. “It wasn’t,” Jason says, his voice a little vicious. It wasn’t something they did because he’d been stupid, hadn’t reached for what he wanted when it was there. He’s not going to repeat that mistake. “…is it something we do now?” Tim asks, something like hope staining his words.  “Yes,” Jason tells him firmly, his arms tightening a fraction, the fingers of his right hand digging into Tim’s ribs. 

Reminder that this is definitely going to be a long fic, and I'm only going to post a bit of it for Jaytimweek, so this snippet might not be in the first update I do. But I love this piece so much and your requested words were very soft, so I wanted to give you something soft <3

(Send me a word and I'll post a snippet from one of my jaytimweek fics that has that word in it)

[ador3him]

HIII!! CONGRATS ON 150!! THATS SUCH A MILESTONE! I also have a request ! what about the promt “i wish i could love you, i know you’d be good for me, but i can’t.” + quackity??

pairing: Quackity x gn!reader

warnings: kinda angsty oooo also swearing

requested? yes by @hawaiidwt

word count: 749

a/n: FIRST POST FOR MY 150 EVENT OMLLLLLLL so basically i wanna just say that i will start the 24hr timer when I see the request not when you send it in because i dont have time notifications!! so I saw this one at 6:30AM AEST (15ish hrs ago) 

Y/ns smile stretches across their face as Quackity answers a fans’ question at the DSMP TwitchCon panel. y/n is obsessed with his dedication toward not only content creation but his studies at college.

Quackity isn’t obsessed with y/n in the same platonic way as they are with him, he admires y/n from afar and when he is close just acts as if they are best buds. Far too scared to flirt, let alone make a move. But today after the panel Quackity has convinced himself to at least flirt with them. Mainly because this is their first IRL meeting but also because he cannot stand the constant fear he lives under. He is always scared they will find out about his as he likes to call it ‘teeny tiny’ crush.

“Thank you all for coming down today! You mean so much to all of us here,” y/n spoke into the microphone then looks around to see if anyone else wants to say something. Nobody moves they all just smile nodding in agreement. Quackity then stands up and walks behind y/ns’ seat, pulling it from under them y/n lands on their ass. Quackity is bent over laughing along with the rest of the room – including y/n themselves. Sapnap offers a hand, so y/n pulls him down onto the floor with him and grabs Quackity’s hand to do it to him. But he is quicker, pulling on their arm forcefully making them fling up and stumble. Sapnap stands up and does a silly bow as if to say he was fine and its all-playful banter.

“Hey y/n! You did well today in the panel,” Quackity beams laying his arm around their shoulder as they walk together. “Obviously I am a natural,” they joke with him. “You were really funny in there!” they admit smiling at him.

“You know what we should do? Get some food, I heard the others were going for a Macca’s run but why don’t we maybe go somewhere else? Just us two!” He hesitantly asks whilst pulling his beanie down a bit with his free hand. “You know what Big Q? That sounds fun, but what if we order in from hotel service instead, I’m tired.” They suggest, he just nods smiling gleefully redirecting them both to the hotel.

 “I swear to god I am not watching some dumb rom-com, chic-flic, 90s-2000s movie,” Quackity groans at the sight of ‘Clueless’ on the screen. y/n eyes get soft and they slightly pout. “But Paul Rudd is in it! I love him so much!” They respond whining a bit. “No!” he groans motioning them to pick something else to watch.

“Ghostbusters but the new one!” y/n suggests grinning. “Doesn’t that have Paul Rudd in it?” Quackity raises his eyebrow a little knowing it does. y/n makes a ‘shushing’ motion with their finger and attempts to press play. “Come here we aren’t watching fucking Paul Rudd!” Quackity goes to grab the remote off them. Making y/n scramble away and trip, he falls with them- landing on top of them.

Their faces were inches away. Quackity’s eyes trail down to y/n’s soft-looking, blush pink lips as if they were calling his name. ‘Alex! Alex!’

“Alex! Hello, get off me I can’t breathe you idiot!” y/n groans pushing him up a little. “Sorry I- I don’t even know what I was doing,” he laughs nervously, fixing his lopsided beanie. “What is up with you today, Q? You seem awkward almost, well more awkward then usual.” They push away the peaking hair that was dropped in front of his eyes to under his beanie. Their close proximity made his breath hitch. Is he going to confess? This is the perfect time to do it the opportunity is right here. “I think- I think I love you. I am in love with you y/n,” His voice is meek, barely above a whisper. A gasp left y/ns mouth before they clap their hand over it in shock. Tears build up, threating to spill everywhere. He didn’t know that y/n just broke up with their boyfriend of 8 months, no one knew. They didn’t tell anyone they were dating, and they didn’t tell anyone the broke up.

“I wish I could love you; I know you’d be good for me, but I can’t. I just broke up with my boyfriend a week ago- I-I can’t,” y/n speaks through broken sobs. Their eyes red and stingy- just like Quackity’s. They cry together because they can’t be together.

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

no excuses writing meme. all of em. :)

god you're mean (joking. ish).

FIRST - the first two sentence of my current WIP

at the time of you sending this, i did not yet have two sentences of the fic I am currently working on so I'm going back one step to kinder devil

Carrie can’t help but notice how strangely her dad’s been acting since seeing the video of Julie’s band that afternoon. She tries to put it out of her mind and focus on her friend ex-friend’s performance and can’t help but be impressed by the end of their first song.

LAST - the most recently written two sentences of my current project

same as above

“What about the Luke things?” Julie glares at Flynn and chooses not to take the bait, opting instead to return to what she’d been working on in silence.

NEXT - the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.

the WIP that shouldn't exist (tagging @jmrothwell because here's more for your curiosity - and also 👇 two more down)

They’d agreed that decisions like this needed to be unanimous but they don’t have to be happy about the results.

PROMPT: stevie and reggie sharing food - i’ll write three sentences based on that prompt, set in the same time/setting as my current project

Stevie only (theoretically) exists in one WIP universe right now and it's not part of the main story. But... Bex verse.

"So..." Reggie says hesitantly as he reaches out to grab a slice of pizza. It's been 16 years, 3 months, and 6 days since he'd last seen Stevie and he's not entirely sure how to navigate seeing him again after all this time. "How have you been?"

THE END - i’ll make up an ending, or post the ending if i’ve written it

Shit. I'm so mad at you right now 😅 (not actually. mostly). Ok so this WIP (that shouldn't exist) is actually @narcissusbrokenmirror's baby and I kidnapped it and we now have a coparenting agreement (most forgiving birthing parent in existence, I swear). So credit where credit is due. CW for snakes

Luke sighs as he takes in their wall of tanks, each housing a different pet that he’d somehow been talked into. “You say no to one dog,” he mutters under his breath. “How did this even happen?” he wonders, slightly louder than before and Julie manages to hear him and laughs as she walks over to stand beside him. “Peony loves her friends. And now she’s not lonely when we’re gone,” she tells him with a grin. “She’s a freaking snake,” Luke mumbles. “How lonely can she get?” Julie chuckles and pats him on the shoulder before handing him his guitar, “Well, think of it this way: now you have a built-in audience for rehearsals.” Luke groans as he slips the guitar strap over his head, “Fine.” “Could have just said yes to the dog!” Alex chimes in from his spot behind his drumkit and Luke glares at him. “But I do love Crush and Squirt, so thanks for that,” he grins at Luke and is met with another harsh glare.  “No more!” Luke insists as he settles in behind his microphone and nods his head toward Julie and Reggie to get themselves situated which they quickly do. “Yes, Dad!” Reggie giggles as he nods toward Alex who counts them in through laughter of his own.

BEFORE THE BEGINNING - three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project

I'm using Bex verse for this

"I just... I need a minute," Alex tells the guys, his throat tightening and the sure signs of panic setting in. He quickly walks out of the boardroom, down the stairs, and out the door to the street, bending over to put his hands on his knees and gasp in breaths. Yes, this is a good change but it's still a BIG change and his brain can only process the second half of that equation. The tightness in his throat starts to loosen and he stands up, looking down the street and deciding that he'll do a quick walk around the block before heading back upstairs to sign onto the rest of their lives.

POV - something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

THIS WAS SO FREAKING ME OUT BUT THEN I REMEMBERED Flynn overhears Carrie and Luke yelling at each other in Bex Verse so... Their POV:

They'd been yelling for a while and it was starting to get a bit concerning so Flynn decides that it's time someone intervenes and by the looks of everyone else within sightlines, it's not going to be them. “I want to throw you out the window!” Carrie's voice is bordering on hysteria and Flynn can't help the feeling of amusement that takes over her. Even in high school, Carrie never resorted to yelling to get her points across. “Do it, I dare you." Flynn's eyes widen at that and she quickens her steps. A sure death sentence for Luke, if there ever was one. Flynn reaches Carrie's office just as she lets out another scream and they school their face into a neutral expression as they stand in the doorway waiting to be noticed.

holy shit this was so hard but also a lot of fun so thank you? but also... you're a shithead (affectionate) 😅

[waltwhitmansbeard]

drabble masterlist

these are all of the drabbles i have written for critical role or the legend of vox machina. they are stand-alone and should be assumed to contain spoilers for either cr or tlovm. they are also collected on ao3 in a work titled worse: we're family. want to prompt me something? see my ask meme tag or just send me an ask with an idea. (please be sure to specify the ask meme your prompt is from, especially if it's not the most recent one i've reblogged!) this post will be linked on my pinned post and updated as new drabbles are posted. i will take prompts for critical role, the legend of vox machina, or my longfic, my fair lady (see my pinned post for more info). i am willing to write characters from any cr campaign, but these are the ships i feel most comfortable/excited to write:

keyleth/vax

vex/percy

vax/gilmore

keyleth/vax/gilmore

caleb/essek

jester/fjord

orym/will

laudna/imogen

dorian/orym

i also really enjoy writing platonic friendships between really any of the cr pcs (or npcs!) so feel free to float those my way as well! you can be as specific or as general as you'd like in prompts.

critical role - campaign one - keyleth/vax

"I need to change the bandage."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for."

The first time they realize their partner will live a large part of their life without them

A near death experience involving the partner meant to live longer shaking the faith of the shorter lived partner

Being an expert in teasing each other

Kissing to make them stop talking

On a whim, pulling your lover into an alley and pressing your lips firmly against theirs, getting lost in each other's touch while the streets bustle outside

Smoothing your fingers down your lover's tie, fixing where your lover couldn't tie it right

Pushing your lover against a wall after one too many teasing comments, but being met with unsaid tension instead of the quiet. Both of you unable to continue with the jokes

Whispering jokes/loving words in a lecture/school/church/a meeting. Trying not to laugh/flirt back in fear of disturbing everyone else who’s trying to pay attention

A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it

An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"I can't sleep if you're not here to cuddle with me."

Risking something in order to achieve something

Going to sleep as the big spoon and waking up as the little spoon

“I wouldn’t trade you for all the stars in the sky.”

critical role - campaign one - vex/percy

"They're gone, it's okay."

"It's not til death do us part for us, is it? It's until death takes you from me."

"Even if you’re sick, you’re still the prettiest girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse in the world."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Ranting to friends or a relative about the other, only for them to agree and call you out on your wrongdoings

"What have you done to my heart?"

Using the made-up words of their child(ren) in all their conversations

"I think you should kiss me."

critical role - campaign one - everyone else

"Don't move, you're still hurt." (keyleth & percy)

Friends of a recovering person come over to celebrate their homecoming (pike & vax)

Always pointing out certain annoying behaviour (pike/scanlan)

Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain (vax/gilmore)

Feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there (keyleth & percy)

Hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters (vesper & gwendolyn)

Lingering with your lips open, touching, but not kissing, and this one glance at their eyes and you say fuck it and pull at their collar to kiss them (vax/gilmore)

"Touch them again and I promise, it will be the last thing you ever do." (vex & vax)

Vex and Percy have to deal for the first time with their eldest teen acting a bit out (percy & wolfe)

"Leave the light on." (keyleth & vilya)

Seeing what the other needs without them having to say it out loud (keyleth & percy)

Sharing something personal (pike/scanlan)

Defending them in front of others (keyleth & scanlan)

Tucking strands of loose hair behind their ears, with a thumb caressing their cheek (vax/gilmore)

Kiss on the forehead (pike/scanlan)

Patching up a wound (scanlan & vax)

Protecting (scanlan & kaylie)

Near death experience (scanlan & vax)

"I looked everywhere for you." (keyleth & pike)

"I'm not going anywhere." (pike & scanlan)

"Holy shit. Are you okay? What the hell happened?" (vex & scanlan)

"You're not weak for needing people." (grog & percy)

Vax meets a young Orym in Zephrah (orym & vax)

critical role - campaign two

"Hey, leave them alone. They just fell asleep." (beau & caleb)

"C'mere, I don't mind letting you sleep on me." (caleb/essek)

"Don't you dare wake them up." (beau & caleb)

"I won't let them put their hands on you." (beau & caleb)

Reassurance in the form of food/movies/games, forcing them to take a second away and relax with you (veth & caleb)

"I am trusting you with that hand, darling. I hope my trust isn't misplaced." (caleb/essek)

Breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much (keyleth & vilya)

Helping each other out (jester & caduceus)

Collecting flowers on their way home (beau/yasha)

“As soon as I heard what happened, I dropped everything and rushed over here.” (beau & clara)

“What have I told you about getting into fights?”/“They were talking shit about you!” (beau & caleb)

Giving them their personal space (caleb/essek)

Person A and person B accidentally giving each other flowers at the same time (jester/fjord)

Interlacing their fingers with the other’s when they least expect it (caleb/essek)

Games (beau & jester & veth)

Platonic kisses (essek)

"Look, I made this for you. I also made one for mum/dad/parent." (beau/yasha)

"She's my date. Fuck off." (beau/yasha)

"Get some sleep." (caleb/essek)

critical role - campaign three

Mapping out your lover's features while they sleep in your arm, smoothing your thumbs down their cheeks, throat, collarbones, chin and nose (orym/will)

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." (keyleth/vax)

"That's been known to happen." (fearne & orym)

"Can I hold your hand?" (dorian/orym)

the legend of vox machina - season one

"I need to change the bandage." (keyleth/vax)

"I owe you an apology." (keyleth & vex)

Having a fight with just looks (vex/percy)

"Let yourself cry, I'm here now. You're safe." (keyleth/vax)

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" (keyleth/vax)

Catching the other one crying shortly after and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you (keyleth & vex)

Sharing a pillow and waking up with their faces only centimetres apart (keyleth/vax)

the legend of vox machina - season two

A missing conversation from 2x08 (keyleth/vax)

Another missing conversation from 2x08 (keyleth & percy)

Letting out their anger in front of them (keyleth/vax)

Doing something silly to cheer them up (keyleth/vax)

Kisses on the cheek when they leave the room (keyleth/vax)

"Darling, you're shivering. Come here, let me warm you up." (vex/percy)

Starting to heal (pike & grog)

Losing your mind when they tilt your chin to look you in the eye (vex/percy)

That glance at your body with their eyes subtly widening, almost gulping as they take in your attire (keyleth/vax)

Resting their head on the other's stomach, only to fall asleep there (vex & trinket)

Opening up about their own struggles when they see the other's problems (keyleth/vax)

Opening up about their own struggles when they see the other's problems (keyleth & vex)

Cold (pike & percy)

“Just say a word and I’ll kill him.” (keyleth/vax)

[redgoldblue]

oh and also the leverage ones!!!!!!

The Nana Job

I think I posted a snippet of this one last December going 'this'll be done for next Christmas'. it is not. hence, perhaps, it being in the 'maybe abandoned??' pile but also. it's sweet. i could finish it. it's ambiguously some time in original Leverage canon, where the gang all meet Nana when she comes over for Christmas dinner.

Hardison hands Eliot the tray that he gestures to once the cupboard’s open, then backs off him slightly – enough that he could move away without having to like, knock Hardison over, but not enough that he can just walk past him – and says, looking down at him because they’re still close enough that the five and a half inches between them are very apparent, “You don’t actually have to prove yourself to Nana by producing 50 perfect Christmas-themed dishes in one night like some kinda hyped-up Twelve Days Of Christmas, y’know.”

“I am not-”

“C’mon, man, you know you can’t lie to me.”

Eliot squints up at him with suddenly very, very blue eyes, but subsides. “You saying I’m your true love, or your Nana’s?” he says instead, lightly teasing and very obviously distracting.

Hardison puts his hands on either side of Eliot’s head and takes advantage of his unwillingness to possibly hurt Hardison in the process of escape long enough to kiss the top of his head, echoing what he’d done to Parker earlier. Of course, rather than leaning into it, Eliot’s response is to twist out of Hardison’s grip and harrumph at him, but without heat.

“Mine,” Hardison answers. “One of.”

Eliot tries very hard to pretend he’s not blushing, but given that the stove’s off, there’s no other reason for his cheeks to be that red. It’s adorable, actually, no matter how counter-intuitive it always seems to apply that term to 5’7” of solid muscle and strength. His current bandanna does have little elves and snowflakes on it, which kind of puts him at a baseline level of adorable anyway. Hardison’s pretty sure Parker got it for him, if only because he’s also pretty sure that’s the only reason he’d be wearing it.

All That I Want Is A Kind Heart To Haunt

This is established relationship thiefsome set not long after original canon, and it's. a customer at the brewpub calls Eliot and Hardison a couple and it's the first time they're the ones who have been semi-incorrectly identified as a couple rather than Parker and Hardison or Parker and Eliot, and it sends Parker into a freakout spiral about the concept of normality and how she doesn't fit into it. this one doesn't have very much written yet but definitely is going to be finished it's. i love her.

“Parker? Can we come in?”

There’s no response, and she doesn’t look up. Eliot waits a moment, Hardison hanging back at his shoulder, then checks again, “Sweetheart? We gotta know whether you want us to leave.”

“No,” she says, muffled by her arms but clear. “Yes. You came, you can come inside.” Her words are skipping, like a scratched record, the rough-bladed alternative to going nonverbal.

[...]

Eliot and Hardison glance at each other, and Eliot can see the urge to reach out crawling at Hardison’s skin even before he crosses his arms, grasping onto his own biceps hard enough to pale the skin under his fingertips, like if he just does that the right way he’ll somehow be able to hold Parker to comfort her without the part of holding that freaks her out when it’s the wrong times. It’s definitely the wrong time, that’s clear even before Hardison hesitantly says, “Parker? Are you alright?” and she snaps back, sharp and immediate, “Don’t touch me.”

“Wasn’t going to, mama.”

send me a wip name and i’ll tell you things about it/present a snippet! show and tell!

[kitkatt0430]

So I mentioned Closer and Closer Still the other day. Gotta give a Six Sentence Sunday update on that now. :D

"I went to visit my father today," Barry replied, voice equally quiet.  "I haven't seen him since he was arrested.  There wasn't a trial, so... but it was like everything happened yesterday when I saw him."

"Do you want to talk about your visit?  I admit... I am curious as to why you choose to speak with him now, after all this time.  But I also recognize this is a very private thing for you, Barry.  So if you would rather simply to have company or to be alone..." hesitantly, Wells reached out to take Barry's hand and squeezed it.  "I'd like to be there for you, if you'll let me."

Eobard - I'm gonna be supportive, this is totally the correct social thing to do and will make Barry want to be friends with me. Barry - He's holding my hand!!!! *blushes*

Disasters the lot of them. Eobard's not really taking Barry's crush on the Reverse Flash too seriously here. After all, he knows what it's like to have a childhood crush on the Flash and that there's a difference between crushing on the idea of someone and actually having feelings for that person. And since the Reverse Flash killed Nora - saving Barry from an abusive home in the process - that's just an idle childhood crush that's resurfaced, right?

When he realizes that Barry likes him as Harrison because of how well they're getting to know each other - with the Harrison persona being rather paper thin these days... that's really gonna throw him for a loop. Because he does rather like Barry too, after all. This Barry. Who he thought he'd hate as much as the previous timeline's Flash... but he doesn't. Can't.

I'm working on the second chapter of Welcome to 2015, but that's getting close enough to being ready to post that I'm just gonna wait on it. I do have a Buffy fic that I'm working on, though. I'll post a snippet from that. Another Buffy/Anya fic, though not part of the series I've been writing on and off.

Buffy's honestly a little bored with the stripper part of the party, but at least Halfrek was right about Anya enjoying herself.  Buffy sends Dawn out of the room - the room the stripper was in, anyway, they had two reserved - and then spent the rest of that time the stripper was present with Tara playing 'guess what's in the box' regarding the gifts they'd brought Anya.  They both guessed Halfrek's was a dildo - they're right - and that Dawn got her a bodice ripper type romance novel - they're both correct there too.  (Buffy had gotten Anya a new dress to wear on the beach during the honeymoon and Tara got her a box of condoms.  Which had Buffy doing a spit-take with her champagne when the box was pulled from the tissue paper filled bag.  How was it that Buffy's gift was the only one that didn't involve sex in some way?)

The rest of the party is fun, though, with them nomming on green cupcakes that match the bridesmaid dresses and watching a marathon of Anya's favorite rom coms on pay per view.  They take over the hotel's hot tub at one point, everyone a little tipsy except Dawn. 

It's a S6 AU where Buffy and Spike don't hook up, but instead become good friends. Things fall out a bit differently when Tara and Willow break up. And Anya winds up living at the Summers' residence after her wedding to Xander doesn't actually happen.

It might tip over into Buffy/Anya/Tara, but right now the only ship I'm really planning on is Buffy/Anya.

[snow-system-wol]

Part of the reason we posted the whole vampire explanation is bc we wrote a short fic thing just about how the Ishgard situation in that AU was kinda becoming a Problem.

Here ya go:

Alphinaud was reasonably certain Count Edmont de Fortemps had not actually met a Miqo'te before now nor heard of one living up in the colder climes like this. Perhaps that was why he seemed on the verge of asking S'ria if Miqo'te became ill in cold conditions, like some sort of wilting houseplant that needed special growing conditions.

It was a fair concern, with S'ria showing little appetite and looking weaker by the day. Normally, the blue tinge to his lips might be blamed on the cold, but he looked ashy and drawn on top of that. Edmont didn't seem to know what to make of it all, and Alphinaud's goal was to make sure things stayed that way.

After all, neither he nor S'ria knew what the Ishgardians would do about his condition, but it was likely to be catastrophic in any scenario. Really, the accusations of heresy were too easy, especially with the tales of how heretics drink draconic blood for some sort of unholy powers – if the truth got out, S'ria would be exiled at bare minimum, but most likely put to death.

Alphinaud was especially cautious in keeping it from the Fortemps, even if that was the most difficult. At best, they would be accommodating but put themselves at extreme risk, and at likely worst, they'd have all possible horrified reactions.

He'd wanted to directly help S'ria more, but… well, S'ria had hesitantly agreed to feed from Alphinaud just once, nearly two weeks ago, and had regretted it near immediately. S'ria insisted that, even though he was hungry, he didn't take more than he should've… but Alphinaud felt weak for the rest of that day and the following one as well. S'ria quickly returned to the stance that feeding off of someone much smaller and younger than him was a bad idea and refused to do it a second time.

(He'd not even considered trying with Tataru, certain that he'd overestimate how much was safe to take from a Lalafell.)

Things could've stayed at a stalemate for a bit longer, but their host showed the good sense to conclude that the Warrior of Light dying in his guest bedroom was a less than ideal state of affairs, and that forced their hands. He approached the two of them, Alphinaud sitting primly next to a S'ria curled up miserably on the couch, with clear purpose in his stride.

“I have been consulting with some of the best chirurgeons I know – some of them have treated Miqo'te outside of Ishgard as well, so do not worry yourself over that. I am sure you would like your weakened state to remain under wraps, but I assure you that they know discretion. I can have them on hand at a moment’s notice.” His tone rather suggested he'd like that moment to be now.

In any other circumstance, such an effort would be sweet. Here and now, though, Alphinaud could see S'ria's ears flatten against his head. Alphinaud had no idea what a medical exam of S'ria may reveal, but it hardly seemed a good idea to allow. They also just would not be able to help him. Alphinaud cleared his throat nervously.

“S'ria is rather… uncomfortable with doctors, I worry causing him undue distress could worsen his state.”

Edmont opened his mouth, and Alphinaud would bet decent gil that he was about to point out that his current state already seemed fairly dire – but S'ria quietly spoke up instead.

“I apologize…I just recalled – some of my medications are among personal effects left at Camp Dragonhead during the chaos of those first few days.” His words were slow, but at least clear. “I'll be quite alright if I go fetch those, and I can set up a supply line to import them there.”

Alphinaud tried not to look as bewildered at what he knew to be a blatant lie as Edmont appeared to be at that statement. (The latter presumably reacting to the fact that S'ria only brought this important detail up now.)

“No, you should stay put. I can send some of our knights to go retrieve them for you.”

Alphinaud quickly jumped in. “My lord, I am more than capable of escorting him.”

The response he received was still a stern frown. “There is simply no need for him to make such a tiring trip out of the city.”

S'ria sat up, eyeing the Count dubiously. “They won't even know what they're looking for, though, that's the problem. And –”, S'ria put on a distressed effect that Alphinaud had never seen him do on purpose (desperate times, he supposed), “–I am just anxious about my medications passing through so many hands, when it – it could be… tampered with.”

Edmont cringed and Alphinaud did not know whether to be impressed or concerned that S'ria had intentionally leveraged his traumatized reactions to his benefit, with their host knowing full well why they'd be anxious after a poisoning. For someone who usually did his best to hide any psychological issues, it was certainly a last ditch effort.

In the end, Edmont had no further complaints – though they never truly needed his approval in the first place, it was simply ideal to keep things civil. S'ria bundled up and sluggishly followed Alphinaud out of the city. The two of them were plenty light enough for Sea to carry them both, though Alphinaud kept a cautious eye on S'ria lest he accidentally fall off the chocobo. S'ria slumped tiredly against her neck and let Alphinaud hold the reins behind him to steer – though she seemed to know the way herself.

Once they were well out of earshot of the city gates, Alphinaud leaned forward to speak to him quietly.

“Are – are you intending what I assume? To tell Haurchefant?”

“Mhm. I hope you don't intend to protest. It's really the best option, and… somehow I can't see him selling me out or telling his family about this.”

Alphinaud shook his head, heedless of the fact that S'ria wouldn't easily see the movement. “Not at all. To be quite honest, I had begun to come to this possibility myself and was considering suggesting it – if you continued to insist on avoiding Tataru and myself as options.” His voice took on the tone of one trying to make a joke, but too anxious to make it work. “If we are too short for your comfort, surely some seven fulms of Elezen will be plenty.”

Even if it fell a bit flat, S'ria graced him with a chuckle all the same.

They needn't have worried, really. Haurchefant never even made the oh-so-Ishgardian comparison with heretics nor seemed particularly scared of him. He was merely quite alarmed at S'ria's weakened state and then somewhat baffled at the explanation. He never doubted that S'ria was telling the truth, but … well, such a thing was not something he'd ever heard of before. If anyone would suprise Haurchefant, though, he seemed used to it being S'ria.

After that, though – having such a direct way to assist the Warrior of Light felt like more of a privilege to him than a burden. All in all, Haurchefant was far more fascinated than fearful – a blessing to be glad for.

Haurchefant was more than happy to keep up the cover story – that importing medicine from Gridania, through the Northern Shroud, was best done to his custody (to avoid Ishgardian control of goods entering the city) and that S'ria insisted on receiving them with his own hands.

Really, though, any excuse for such delightfully frequent visits from the Warrior of Light would have been fine by him.

[song-of-the-rune]

Shock

Some good old Healer!Xyll, taken as prisoner in an under-manned Garlean camp. l took some inspiration from @\the-imperial-nuisance - hope you don't mind! This is pretty tangential to the prompt, but that's fine. I am not ready to post this but it's posting day so out into the world it goes help-

"I need to stay here with this patient," Xylluna says, flicking an ear back. "Send someone else."

"You are here to take orders, not make decisions. Come along."

Xylluna keeps their hands over the wounded woman's side, green ether flowing from their palms into the gash left by, presumably, an Eorzean blade. "If I am to follow the orders I was previously given, then I am staying here. You can tell your commander as much."

Something blunt jabs them between the shoulders, and they almost fall onto their patient, but they manage to fall to the floor instead. The aether's glow fizzles out. "No more warnings, or you'll both be-"

Without thinking, Xylluna stands up and uppercuts the officer in the jaw in one fluid motion, sending him reeling backwards. "She is my patient, and I can only assume --"

"Someone contain this beast," the officer commands once he steadies himself, and two of the mostly-recovered soldiers -- who, up until now, had been passively watching as if they weren't sure what to do -- pick up their swords and begin to approach them.

A third, still covered in bandages, chimes in. "Sir, shouldn't we let the Viera -- er, let them stay until another chirurgeon arrives?"

The officer's face, just barely starting to bruise, turns red with anger. Xylluna watches the two, hands raised unthreateningly, as one of the two recovering soldiers retrieves some rope. "The thing you don't understand about Eorzeans, boy, is that they're craftier than you realize. He might have looked like he was healing Cantia, but make no mistake…"

"Primum non nocere," Xylluna interrupts, scowling, as the guards bind their hands. Their accent is thick without the help of the Echo, but there is some satisfaction in speaking the words themself, even if the Garleans probably don't understand what's happening. "I may be a Conjurer, but I am a Scholar, too. And he's right -- " they shout back into the tent as they are escorted across the camp, "if you don't let me heal her, she's likely to go into shock." They realize the officer never stopped lecturing his subordinate, and walk the rest of the way in uneasy silence.

They finally stop at a larger, but still plain-looking tent. One of the guards peeks inside the door and, a few moments later, a woman -- by her dress, a medical officer -- emerges with a furrowed brow and greying hair. "Why did you bring me the prisoner? I told you to keep them busy in the ward while I sterilize my equipment." Xylluna raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm sure you'd like to know why I'm doing that kind of grunt work, or why I'm trusting you with our soldiers, but I'm already showing you more than I'd like."

"Well, sir," one of the guards says, hesitantly, "The Decurion -- "

"He ordered you to come here?"

"No, sir, he ordered us take the Eorzean to interrogation, but --"

"Who is running the ward right now?"

The guards stare nervously at one another for a long, tense moment, the medical officer looming over them.

Xylluna risks piping in. "Cantia is bleeding out. I was for bidden to stay and continue to help her. One of the other soldiers in the ward did try --"

The woman points to the closer of the two soldiers. "You, untie them. We can hear the rest of the story later. This is the last time the bastard tries to overrule me."

---

Trying to resuscitate Cantia is difficult with all the commotion, but Xylluna seems to be managing, at the very least, to keep what blood she has left from pouring out. The two officers are engaged in a shouting match over whose orders apply when, and Xylluna picks up that they haven't received any supplies or orders in a very long time. They want to tear into both officers -- who in the hells would leave a stranger in charge of the ward so they could clean, rather than the other why around? Who insists on leaving a bleeding soldier to die? None of it makes any sense -- but for now, there's nothing to do but focus. And they do focus -- until the poor soldier's breathing steadies.

"She's going to make it," Xylluna announces, and waits a moment for an answer, but the squabbling continues.

In a lower, softer voice, they ask, "Cantia, can you hear me?"

There is no response from her. Xylluna takes another long, hard look at the gash in her side now that it's closed. Whatever it was made with had been dirty. Had the Garleans lied about her being wounded in battle? She was not the only one to return, but the party had been small -- not that they had the men to comprise anything more than a small contingent. It would have been a small skirmish, then, for the rest to survive it, perhaps over something scarce nearby. So small there may not have even been other people involved. They could have been skirmishing with a mountain lion over a rabbit --

They hear their foot thump against the ground as they speak. "You were both just going to let her die, weren't you?"

Both officers freeze. Finally, something got their attention.

"You didn't want me to save her. You wanted me to either kill her deliberately, proving that I was an untrustworthy prisoner and you could get rid of me, or by accident, because I don't know 'proper' medicine. You don't have the resources to feed your camp. You haven't for a long while. So you've been letting them die so that they don't have to starve. It sounds merciful, almost, but that's not everything, either, is it?"

"Seize him," orders the Decurion.

No one moves.

Xylluna points at the medical officer. "You can't starve; you're too gods-damned important. So you've been hiding food in your supply closet and going away to 'clean' where no one can see you eating. And you," they point at the Decurion, "are in on the whole thing. This bickering is all just a show so that your soldiers don't notice while they're too busy trying to feed themselves."

"You heard him. Seize the prisoner," says the medical officer in a calm, steady voice.

One of the soldiers begins to approach Xylluna, placing himself between them and the officers. The others watch him warily.

The medical officer looks at one of the stationary soldiers. "You don't really believe we'd do that, do you?"

"Well, sir, it -- no, of course not, sir," he says, uncertainly, as he begins to approach Xylluna as well. He exchanges an uneasy gaze with the other soldiers as he walks past them. The rest begin to follow suit, even those still recovering from various injuries -- except for Cantia, lying unconscious, but finally stable, next to Xylluna.

Instead of seizing Xylluna, the soldiers form a wall in front of them. One of them draws her sword and points it at the two officers. "We're relieving you of command."

[ventique18]

Generous

(Full image + fanfic under the cut)

Type: Fanfic + Sketch

Pairing: Malleus x afab!Reader

Warnings and notes:

Smut! 🔞 Minors DNI!!

Malleus POV

Oral (Y/N receiving), Dom!Mal, pseudo-public

Sketch: suggestive (MC in underwear) but not too graphic

Links to other works: https://ventique18.tumblr.com/post/686055226886832128/masterlist

- Fanfic start -

“Outrageous. Utterly odious.”

The heels of my shoes resound in the hallway in sharp clacks. I thunder across the stone floor; aware that the mere pressure of my stride is battering the poor, weathered pathway— and yet, not caring enough to calm myself out of my turbulent thoughts. Too impassioned to slow down if only for the sake of the footsteps behind me.

“Mal,” you breathe, frantically trying (and failing) to catch up to me, “I’m so, so sorry. We all thought you were just running late—“

“And you deem me not important enough to wait for, or even inform, before you all began your merry tea party? Diasomnia, my own dorm, downing tea and stuffing their faces full of cupcakes without their housewarden?” I whirl around to face you, and you stop abruptly, “What is the purpose of this cellphone you humans are so fond of, if you cannot even utilize it to send a simple notice?”

I see your body freeze, eyes wide in what I surmise is guilt. You bring your hands to the hem of your slack’s pockets; fidgeting and not meeting my eyes, “Grim borrowed it earlier to watch spelldrive videos."

“I believe other students have phones, Y/N,” I snap back.

You clamp your mouth shut, and I sigh. It’s not as if I do not grasp the concept of getting carried away by the moment, and indeed I am guilty of such in many moments of my daily life. It’s only that… Whenever I think of how happily you were chatting with my subjects— the way you chuckle at Sebek’s eating habits and how you prod at Silver’s arm to stir him awake…

If I were in that picture, you would be laughing with me instead.

Still, I suppose it IS rather unfair to put all the blame on you solely because I was… jealous, of my retainers. Ah, how degrading it is to admit such paltriness, even in my private thoughts.

I sigh again, “No matter. I’m quite used to such audacity,” I turn my back to you again, intending to return to my quarters at once, “Now, forgive my rudeness, for I wish to retreat for the day.”

In one stride, my hand was on the door to the dorm’s throne room. And then I stopped when you hesitantly tugged at my coattail.

“Mal,” you look at your shoes; likely stringing your words in your head, "I'm really sorry for earlier," your eyes flicker up to meet with mine, "I really thought you were just... busy in the restroom or something."

A faint blush creeps up your cheeks, and I do not know what kind of foolishness you're thinking.

I let you continue, nonetheless, "But I want to make it up to you. Twice, ten times, I don't know. I hope I'm still your favorite person even if I accidentally ate your share of cupcakes."

I blinked, "You ate my cupcake?" I asked, honestly not knowing what to say. I do not understand the relevance of this cupcake in this conversation.

Your face grew noticeably more embarrassed, "Any-anyway, if you're free, let's go on an ice cream date at Sam's? I'll treat you!"

I almost burst into laughter right there and then. Leave it to you to turn any situation twice lighter. I already forgive you, of course I always do, both for the lack of notice and for eating the cupcake I care so little about. And yet who am I to reject your gracious offer to make it up to me?

If I were a common man, I would have already taken your hand and pranced our way to your idea of a childish date. I would have kissed the cream off your lips and exchanged fruity flavors with you. I would have held your hands and whispered to you how much I loved you.

And yet that was not me. Such colorful imagery was not me.

You give me an inch, I'll take a mile. You know how the fae work.

"Ah, but I'm not quite in the mood for anything sweet," I gently pry your fingers off my jacket and into my hold, "But I have a different flavor in mind, if you would?"

I narrow my eyes at you; a heavy meaning deep in my tone. I watch your pupils dilate, and whether it be from fear or excitement, you do not voice. Yet, you nod greedily at me-- too quickly to be innocent, and my lips tug into a wide grin.

Thud. Your back hits the door with a dull sound, but you do not react at all to the pain-- too entranced by the pleasure brought about by my mouth on your neck.

I run my tongue from the base of your neck to the edge of your jaw; sucking and licking your plump flesh as if I'm melting a ripe peach on my mouth. I flick at your earlobe and watch you shudder. I chuckle. To see your trembling in my hold, your hands clinging onto any part of me you could hold, feet helplessly dangling and pressing against the door as I keep your weight from touching the ground.

Truly, seeing you so desperately depend on me sends a perverse wave of satisfaction to my core.

More.

My hand wanders to your stomach; squeezing tightly to inflict just a little bit of pain while my tongue massages the column of your throat.

I want you more.

And so my fingers, sinful as they are, glides between your thighs-- and you close them shut.

"My," I draw circles on your thigh with a finger, unimpeded by your action, "Do you dislike my touches, my darling?" I whisper languidly before blowing a hot breath to your reddened ear.

You shiver once again, eyes closing as your breath catches in your throat. You don't respond to me, however.

"And yet you seem to like my kisses, no?" I provoke, a low chuckle rumbling within my chest, "Very well. Luckily for you, I'm feeling rather generous today."

I drop you down, and you squeak. Not out of the sudden impact on your toes, I don't think so, but perhaps because of me suddenly kneeling in front of you on one knee. I laugh at your bewildered expression.

I see. I believe this is how humans profess their undying love to each other, correct? How adorable. The way your cheeks redden like round apples is adorable. Your innocent thoughts are entirely adorable.

Though, I am no such romantic.

Without bothering to comment on whatever it is that is running in your mind, I quickly bring my hands on your waist and undid the buttons of your slacks. I've done this a dozen of times, and so it didn't take long for me to bring both your pants and underwear to your ankles.

You gasp and throw a hand on my shoulder on reflex, "Malleus, what are you doing--"

Exactly what you see I'm doing, love.

My mouth opens, and your knees buckle at the hot breath that caresses your labia. I prod your bud, ah how small and cute it is, with the tip of my tongue and an unintelligible garble flows out of your throat. I sweep a circle around your bud before taking a straight line towards your awaiting hole.

A drop of salty honey drips in my mouth. Thick, viscuous, slick. Hot. I greedily suck at your folds; desperately extracting more of the heavy scent invading my senses.

My nose hits your bud and you muffle a scream. Why are you holding back?

Sing.

So my tongue stabs at your hole; mercilessly, impatiently. I run it through the ridges of your cavern. I explore urgently, wanting to taste every nook and cranny of you, drinking myself silly with the intoxicating tincture of your nectar and your sweat. I silently thank my anatomy for giving me quite the long tongue. Reaching the deepest parts of you proves to be fascinatingly easy, and the melody of your moans turns out to be an easy reward.

"Mal, Malleus!" You groan, and I feel a tightness in my underwear at the thought of you dirtying my name with your lustful mouth, "Public, we're in public..." You manage to choke out.

The door is tightly locked. The room is enchanted so that not a sound would escape through any gaps at all. I do not delight in the prospect of others seeing or hearing your lewd body.

But of course you have no awareness of that.

And I like that.

I like seeing you writhe.

Instead of answering, I close my mouth around your bud and give it a hard suck. You scream in surprise, but I do not let up and instead flick my tongue across it multiple times. Front and back, sometimes left and right. I put a light nibble in between, and then a light bite to throw you off the rhythm.

I watch in perverse satisfaction as you throw your head back and knock it against the door, legs shaking wildly as the balls of your feet lift off the ground. Your fingernails scratch at the wood. Your drool dribbles down your chin. Your chest, still clothed, heaves up and down to catch the air that escapes your lungs.

How annoying. That shirt is annoying.

And so magically it's gone, and you are left completely naked with your pert nipples completely exposed for me to feast my eyes upon.

Stiff and supple. Cute.

"Mal!" You yelled, embarassment amplifying your heavy arousal, "What if," you moaned again as I plunge two fingers inside you, "What if someone... someone.... Nhhn, ah!"

Three now. My fingers are long, and I reach the entrance to your womb. How cute the little button inside you is. I caress it, and you collapse forward, hands tightly grabbing on my horns.

I must punish you for that.

I send a shockwave to your womb, and you sputter. Your walls clench and unclench in such an erotic way, as if you're begging me for more. Holding tightly onto me like a death grip. Releasing copius amounts of honeyed liquid as if weeping for me to put my cock inside you, fuck you hard, and inject you with so much semen you're sure to wake up carrying my child in your stomach.

"Malleus!" You scream once more, loud enough to rattle your entire body against my hold, "I'm going to--!"

And then I pull out. Your eyes open wide. I let go of you, and you almost slide down to the floor with how weak your knees have become.

I turn my back to you and walk away.

You, using your bewildered, shaky voice, reach out to me with an echo, "Where... Where are you going?"

I stop, "Why," I half-look at you, a huge grin splicing across my face, "this is the throne room. My throne room. And I am to take a seat, as its King."

I see you tremble from the unsatisfied arousal leaking out of your petals. I laugh wickedly, "If you have any requests, I shall listen to them."

I lazily stroll forward, taking my time to lower myself onto the throne all the while watching you struggle, "But only if you prostrate yourself before me and beg, Child of Man."

I raise a finger and beckon. You lower yourself on the ground, as if glamoured. But you were not. Of course not. It was only you, and only your own lustful thoughts, only your lewd body, that obeyed my ridiculous words.

You inch forward, breasts swaying, naked. Plump ass up in the air. Your core exposed, reddened, swollen from how much nectar is leaking and dripping and oozing out of your desperate hole.

Such a beautiful, sinful fruit. Molded by me, ripened for me. Only for me.

I lick my lips, "Now, what shall it be? Luckily for you, I am feeling quite generous tonight."

[amaya-writes]

Hi!! I am absolutely OBSESSED with your blog I love your works so much!

Could I possibly request headcanons/short descriptions (idk what they're called) of Bakugou and Todoroki calling their s/o "clingy" or making them feel they're annoying and then regretting it when their s/o starts ignoring them to give them space and asking forgiveness?

Note: Aw thank you so much that's so sweet of you! I'm sorry for the delay in answering this I just didn't have inspiration before today. Also, these focused more on their reaction/apology than them actually being rude so lemme know if you want a separate post for that.

Warnings: n/a

Characters involved: Bakugo Katsuki and Shoto Todoroki

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours, reader is a student in 1A

Bakugo Katsuki

He wanted some space, right? He was the one who had shrugged off your hand and told you to stop being so damn clingy when he was trying to get work done, right? Then why did he feel so bad about it?

Bakugo wasn't really one for affection or remorse. He didn't think twice before letting loose a string of insults and words that would often hurt a person and sometimes felt pleasure by the offended looks he received because of it.

But he had come to realise early on that it was different with you. That he preferred your smiles over frustrated little frowns at being unable to dish an insult back at him.

Bakugo really hadn't meant to hurt you, he had just been frustrated with the pile of work he had to get done because of yet another outbreak during class. That, however, didn't warrant the harsh words he had spit your way.

"You're so clingy, do you not have anything else to do outside of annoying me?"

The recollection made his frown deepen as the blond walked towards the couch where you were sipping tea with Momo.

"Move, ponytail, I need a minute."

Usually, you would have bothered to at least send the other person an apologetic smile, but today you chose to remain silent and pretend he didn't exist. Just like you had throughout the entire day.

Your silence only worsened his frustration as Bakugo sat in Momo's place, watching how you turned forward the second your friend was replaced but never saying anything.

It was only when he had remained silent long enough for it to seem awkward that Bakugo spoke again, this time with his voice sounding a lot softer than it usually did.

"Look I was angry, okay?"

"When are you not?"

The retaliation wasn't exactly what he had expected, but it was better than your silence because that meant you were willing to talk through things.

"I shouldn't have been so rude, especially not to you. I'm sorry, won't do it again."

You turned to him as he spoke, seeming indifferent even when your tight frown finally began to vanish.

"And if you don't have an 'again'?"

This time Bakugo couldn't conceal his emotions fast enough, showing just how hurt he was at the idea of you leaving him, especially for something so small.

But his pain turned to determination in the blink of an eye, because Bakugo Katsuki was hellbent on keeping you as his even if it meant doing uncharacteristic things.

"How do you want me to make it up to you?"

It was then that you finally caved, accepting that his apology wasn't just another one forced out of him due to other people.

You took your time responding, only speaking when you were turned towards him with a hand hesitantly resting beside his on the bit of couch between the two of you.

"Next time you don't want me around, don't open the door and let me sit beside you in the first place."

Bakugo scoffed at your words, but chose to refrain from calling you an idiot or explaining how he did want you around, he just couldn't help but be distracted when you were in the same room as him.

Instead, he chose to intertwine your hands and change the conversation to something you liked.

Bakugo would never admit it, but he swore his smile widened tenfold once you finally smiled and seemed happy around him again. The gesture was enough to have him make a mental promise, one to never hurt you again.

Even if it was accidental.

A headcanon for this scenario (because I just had to):

Kirishima told Denki Bakugo was a manly man for apologising and that he would always apologise to his s/o, which led to an argument amongst the boys about whether or not people should apologise.

Mineta strictly believes you shouldn't because you seem weak. Sero strictly believes that is one of the many reasons why he doesn't have a partner.

Izuku and Iida began a calculative rant about when you should and shouldn't apologise which led to various arguments.

They asked for Aizawa's opinion the next day, who was far too tired for the group of eager teenage boys lowkey asking him for dating advice. (Izuku also asked All Might).

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto didn't understand why you were being this way.

It had been hours since 1-A had left for class that day yet you hadn't once spoken to him throughout that entire time. You hadn't even looked his way, a feat that he had previously considered impossible since you sat to his right.

It was only when Yamada began talking about English proverbs and how they worked that Shoto finally began to mull over his previous actions, wondering just what had compelled you to be his way.

And then, it clicked. A realisation so profound Shoto couldn't help but whip his head to the side and stare at your side profile as he silently tried to convey how apologetic he was.

He had given you his 'cold shoulder' as Midoriya call it.

Shoto really hadn't meant to tell you he had no time for your clinginess, which, in hindsight, was an awful thing to say to someone you were with. He had just been so busy training his left side and focusing on making concentrated bursts of fire that he couldn't help but snap when you approached him on the dorm rooftop.

If he was being honest, Shoto had actually been terrified that he would accidentally burn you and you would be scarred for life like him. The mere thought of it was enough to have him snap and do the first thing he could think of to make you go away, even if he unknowingly hurt you in the process.

Shoto wanted to apologise, he really did. So much so that he found himself secretly tearing a bit of his last page and writing you a note to convey his remorse as soon as possible.

You froze up the instant his folded paper hit your desk, making Shoto wonder whether you would actually read it or just toss it away in your anger.

He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when you finally reached for the paper and placed it on your notebook to secretly read it, but his relief was short-lived as Shoto watched you scribble something on the note, fold it up, and return it to him.

I can't apologise enough for my rudeness yesterday, will you please let me make it up to you? We can go get soba after school.

His eyes skimmed over his apology before quickly lowering to read your response.

Fine. But it's not a date, I'm still angry.

Seeing Shoto genuinely smile was a rare sight, especially in the middle of a class when all of their phones had been put away. Perhaps that was why Yamada couldn't help but look between the two of you and wonder just what had caused both of you to have a complete turn-around in your moods.

In the end, when he saw no sign of any broken rules, he couldn't help but simply sigh and turn back to the board behind him, muttering words that made him seem far older than he was.

"Teenagers, I swear."

[frogtanii]

your palms were sweaty as you adjusted your slacks, making sure the pleats were where they should be with not a wrinkle in sight. you wanted to look professional and put together, at least on the outside, because you knew you were actually about .2 seconds away from falling apart.

your palms were sweaty as you adjusted your slacks, making sure the pleats were where they should be with not a wrinkle in sight. you wanted to look professional and put together, at least on the outside, because you knew you were actually about .2 seconds away from falling apart.

a quick glance to the boys at your sides notified you that they weren’t faring much better. atsumu kept fidgeting with his cufflinks, sakusa was so stiff you could knock him over with your pinky, kenma looked like he was about to pass out, bokuto was debating on squeezing under the table in front of you, kuroo was tapping a pattern on his pants (akeelah and the bee style), and akaashi kept reciting ominous poems under his breath.

the only people in the room who looked even remotely fine were osamu, oikawa, sugawara, daichi, and, surprisingly, yachi. osamu was munching on some peanuts that he pulled from... somewhere, while oikawa and sugawara were holding their own conversation by the window. daichi seemed to be minding his own business but you could never really get a proper read on him anyway.

well, you supposed yachi was okay because she knew what to expect. i mean, you were meeting her boss.

after you and kenma had posted your “exposing the hype(r) house” youtube video, an email had come to the both of you, inviting you to visit the “big boss” along with the rest of the crew.

you weren’t necessarily afraid of losing your job; the hype(r) house was already being dissolved and you were (finally!!!) getting to move in with makki and mattsun until you found your own place. you were genuinely excited to put the drama and literal hell behind you and begin to live your life again but...

that didn’t mean meeting the Man™ wasn’t terrifying. it was like being called into the principal’s office, complete with the existential dread and occasional bouts of gassiness.

the door opening made you flinch as you quickly moved out of the way to let the newcomers enter. while they walked past you, you couldn’t contain the shock that overtook your face, your jaw practically on the floor.

the man was massive.

built like a brick wall, the man who you assumed to be the “big boss,” had a chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and massive fucking pecs, his white button up barely closing around them.

beside him stood a tall, lanky man who was dressed suspiciously un-office-like with a red buzz cut and wild eyes that seemed to cut into you as he took his place at the table.

the final man seemed a bit awkward in comparison to the other two, but he was trying to seem unaffected, his purple bowlcut, despite being rather juvenile, fitting perfectly with his slim but toned build and bright complexion.

yachi hurried to greet them, giving all three a blinding smile before motioning for everyone else to take a seat. you ended up between the redhead and atsumu, the former being way too entertained by just your general being. his eyes rarely, if ever, left your face sending shivers down your spine. the remaining members all hesitantly took their seats and “big boss” began.

“it is an honor to meet you all. i am ushijima wakatoshi but you can call me ushijima or wakatoshi or ushiwaka or toshijima or just ushi or just jima or just waka or just toshi.” for a moment you thought he was joking but his face never moved, not even with the awkward silence that followed. redhead seemed rather amused by the whole display and bowl cut looked like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting.

it took an uncomfortably long moment for ushijima to proceed but he did as though nothing had happened. “these are my associates, satori—” redhead gave you a mischievous grin “—and tsutomu.”

“goshiki,” bowl cut interrupted, his voice wavering but his eyes gleaming with righteous indignation as though he was challenging wakatoshi to say something in defiance. instead, ushijima just gave him a nod and he visibly deflated back into his seat.

“goshiki is the social media manager for imla and satori is... satori,” big boss continued, not a hint of emotion on his face. the rest of the table perked up at his comment but atsumu was the only one who apparently had the balls to say anything.

“so yer the one who wrote that shitty among us tweet?” goshiki flushed horribly and sunk further into his plush leather chair, his body language showing he must’ve already gotten an earful about it. “thought it was a good idea,” he muttered while averting his eyes, completely ignoring satori’s cackle from across the wood.

ushijima put up a (massive???) hand to calm the both of them and it instantly worked. satori quieted down though he never lost the mirth in his expression and goshiki straightened up, a new wave of determination crossing his features.

you sat up as well, feeling the shift of energy in the room but you were startled to realize the boss had decided to focus his energy on you, his deep baritone voice calling your full name. “i am extremely sorry. we have failed you as a management team and as men. i have failed you.”

he sounded remarkably remorseful, his brown irises conveying heavy emotion and guilt. you had no idea what to say but he wasn’t done.

“although i do not have full control of the decisions that have been made here, i should have fought harder for what i believed was right and for that, i will forever be sorry.” you shifted uncomfortably under his weighty gaze, not that he noticed because his attention was swiftly taken by kenma at the opposite end of the room.

“who is in charge then? aren’t you like the ceo or whatever?” he asked. ushijima took a moment before nodding very slowly, his attention clearly on something in his head.

thankfully, satori rapidly took over the thread of conversation before the room could fall in tense silence yet again. “there’s a board of old, stuffy guys who basically kicked miracle boy wakatoshi to the curb and make all their decisions without him.”

...miracle boy? what did he have to do to earn that kind of nickname? you shook your head and tuned back in, just as the ceo spoke up once again.

“because i have not succeeded in doing my job properly, i have something to give to you,” ushijima deadpanned, sliding a thick envelope towards you. you carefully grabbed it and opened it up to reveal a thick, thick, wad of cash.

a gasp caught in your throat, words not coming to you as you thumbed through the money. there had to be at least $60k in there, your eyes filling with tears while you took in his generosity. “thank you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to speak any louder.

wakatoshi nodded at you before addressing the rest of the table about something but you weren’t even listening.

you were so overwhelmed. for the longest time, you’d hated whoever management was for ignoring your pleas for help and trying to placate you with nice dresses and fancy dinners so meeting ushijima was quite the welcomed surprise.

despite everything that occurred, you could tell he felt horrible for letting things slide even though it was technically out of his hands and you couldn’t even articulate how much that meant to you.

the fact that he had gone out of his way to pay you extra, assumingly without the permission of the board, was heartwarming, confusing, shocking, and staggering all at once.

i mean, you could probably describe the past few months as exactly that. so much had happened, so much had changed, and while you could do without some of the life adjustments (the nightmares, spare trauma, and fear of public bathrooms to start), you felt blessed with new friends and the experiences that helped shape you to the person you were now.

the boys didn’t hate you anymore (well, not all of them at least and none were actively antagonizing you), you were seeing dr yamada again, you were getting to move in with your two best friends, you were just given enough money to expand your channel drastically, and you were finally feeling good. better than good.

meiko was behind you and though you missed the person she once was, you were so glad she was out of your life in a way where she couldn’t harm you or the boys any longer.

a grin spread across your face, your cheeks nearly burning from the intensity of it. things were definitely looking up.

a soft call of your name jolted you from your thoughts, your eyes landing on all the boys already standing as they got ready to leave the room. you could sense their worry and you shot them a genuine, reassuring smile before standing yourself.

you waved goodbye to the three men at the table, thanking ushijima profusely for his kindness but he shook you off, insisting that he had just been doing what he should’ve done a long time ago.

what a nice guy.

as you followed the boys out of the building, you took a moment to observe them together with fondness written all over your expression. they were laughing and joking around, the happiest and most carefree you had ever seen any of them. bokuto was begging yachi to get them ice cream, the rest of them piling on until she gave in with a playful roll of her eyes, giggling at the cheer that went up from the group.

atsumu seemed to notice you lagging behind, falling back to join you. “ya okay angel?” he asked, eyes focused on your feet as he slowed down to match your pace.

you didn’t answer for a while, instead focusing on the sun warming your cheeks, the cool breeze messing up your hair, and the sounds of pure joy swirling above you.

“i’m absolutely perfect.” you replied and you actually meant it. “race you to the van?” you sent him an impish grin before taking off, his yells of indignation making you laugh freely as the rest of the boys joined in, right on your heels.

this is it, you thought. no matter what, i’ll have this moment and i’ll be okay.

you’d been through hell and back and you’d survived. you’d been cursed at, choked out, hospitalized, and been beaten at mario kart more times than you could count and you had still made it through. you were resilient and strong and you’d never given up, despite how badly you’d wanted to, multiple times over.

things weren’t perfect, they rarely are, but you knew that if you could make it through all that, you could get through practically anything, especially with the boys by your side.

yeah. i’ll be just fine.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

bonus!!

“told you it sounded stupid as hell.”

“gah, stop talking about it!!”

“you sounded sooooo old ‘shiki, what are you, 92?”

“AAAAAAAAAA!!!”

“satori...”

“what’s up miracle boy?”

“...what is ‘sus’?”

℗ poker face

i’ll be just fine

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - AND THATS A WRAP FOLKS 🥳 wowowow did the ending give me trouble but that’s ok SISJSK the endings will be coming shortly but they might not be daily just cs they may take more time, who knows lmfao i’ll let y’all know :3 AAAA ANYWAYS ILY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED KITH KITH don’t forget to feed me <3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[sunflowerdaisybee]

M reader x sapnap. Reader is also meeting up with Karl with sapnap. So, I get tired very easily and sleep a lot due to the lack of energy I have in my body due to a medical reason. So I imagine karl and sapnap streaming and saying how reader cant stream because he needs to sleep. And 30mins into the stream reader walks into the streaming room with a pillow and blanket and cuddles up to sap naps legs on the floor, which chat finds adorable, sapnap is giving reader head rubs and blushing and Karl is teasing both of them.

This was really cute and I am actually in love with the concept, please send in more big brain ideas like this :] /pos /g

Summary: Just a tired lil guy

Pairing: Sapnap X Reader

Pronouns: He/him

[A/n]: Requests are open, send me love <3

“Where’s (Y/n)? He’s sleeping right now, he wanted to join us for the stream but was too tired so me and Karl forced him to go lay down and take a nap.”

“Hopefully he’ll be able to join us later after he’s gotten some rest but his sleep comes first so we’ll see how things turn out.” Karl and Sapnap had just started the stream, it was nothing more than a casual Q&A, something fun but not too loud. They originally planned to do something more along the lines of a You laugh You Lose video but figured it would be too loud, so they lovingly made a change of plans just for you.

Their altered stream idea only did so much good though as you came waltzing into the room only thirty minutes after they started. You were dragging with you a blanket and pillow, clearly still tired, and waddled over towards Sapnap. Dropping to the floor beside him you moved his hands from his lap, placing your pillow and then your head there instead.

“(Y/n), you should be sleeping. There’s a spare room with a bed and everything that we set up for you.”

“Missed you.” Sapnap was too flustered to speak, still in shock as to why you would choose him to sleep on. Very hesitantly he set one of his hands atop your head, petting you gently. The action caused you to sigh, your tired self slowly melting into the comfort of the other man.

“Aw aren’t you two cute, smile!” Sapnap smiled but didn’t look up from your half-asleep form, trying to hide his red face from Karl’s camera.

“Hey look at that, even the fans think you guys are cute. Hey guys, if we hit the subgoal I’ll post the video I just took on twitter!”

Taglist: @joyfullymulti @minty-ghast @rokkyy @duddum-froppers

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

Corruption & Trust

Stormbringer and bsd spoilers in general ahead so read at your own risk!!

So in this post I will be listing all the times Chuuya used corruption and all the times Dazai was there to stop it. I will also go into depth as to why Chuuya trusts Dazai when it comes to having to use corruption and I will also emphazise on Dazai's care and how he takes corruption seriously.

1. First time using corruption: Stormbringer

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 16 yrs old

"Isn't it an unpleasant sight, Chuuya."

It was a young boy. This young boy casually caught hold of Chuuya's arm and lifted it up. With this movement, the gravitational field which had occured around them disappered immediatly. As well as Chuuya’s agony.

"Y...You..."

"You can't even die gracefully can you?" the young boy said in a raspy voice as he heaved Chuuya on his shoulders. He set off to walk.

Alright so this was the first time Chuuya's corruption was ever activated, after Dazai nullifies it and carries Chuuya on his back, he drops him off outside the bar were Chuuya's friends lay dead. He took him there instead of taking him directly to the port mafia quarters.

Why did he do that exactly? If Dazai doesn't care for Chuuya, then why did he give Chuuya the opportunity to pay farewell to his dying friends?

It's actually sort of funny because I don't really think Dazai really realizes or accepts that he feels a certain connection with Chuuya and therefore looks after him.

2. Second time using Corruption: Stormbringer

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 16 yrs old (obviously, its still the same light novel lol)

After losing his strength, Chuuya drifted in the air for a few seconds, then lost the black wings on his back and slowly fell.

Dazai caught his body.

From the spot where Dazai touched, the nulification skill was activated.

The self-contradictory skill that supports the energy of the singular point receded, and the output of the singular point decreased. Eventually, it converged and the "gate" closed. The red imprints disappeared from Chuya's whole body. Eventually, the gravitational field disappeared and the complete silence was restored.

“Good job, Chuuya." Dazai chuckled, looking at Chuuya he was holding in his arms. "I forgot to bring my ink pen, so I'll spare you from having your face scribbled."

As much as it looks like this is from a fanfiction, I can assure you that it's an actual passage from stormbringer.

I can't really say much except the fact that Dazai is being extremely soft here.

And this was the conversation Dazai and Chuuya shared beforehand:

"There is one problem." Dazai cut off his sentence hesitantly. "It has nothing to do with the sucess rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... It may require some time to decide."

"What's with you?" Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. "Stop dramatizing it. Just hurry up and say it."

"I said earlier about this control spell to open the 'gate' that is used to reset the command inside Chuuya, right?" Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. "If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will be erased. That means...even if the memory erasure was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well."

"What?"

"I told you before right? the memory erasure command. The only way we can confirm if Chuuya is human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means..." Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. "If we use that control spell, the method to confirm if Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good."

The time had stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and looked towards Dazai but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

"Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not." Dazai looked at his pocket watch, gave it a glance and continued. "I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order for my men to wait... You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess its hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around."

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked down the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai fixated in his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn't afford more than that.

Inside Dazai's head, he was planning a procedure to swith to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

After this exchange, Chuuya does decide on using corruption. I have talked about this section on a previous post of mine, and I just love it so much. For starters, I think this conversation that these two shared is very important to their characters.

For Chuuya, it shows us how undeniably selfless he is. He would rather save the people of Yokahama instead of finding out something that meant a lot to him. He sacrificed his own desires to save the people he cares about.

For Dazai its a completely different story, in this exchange Dazai was able to openly express genuine concern for his partner. He also understands the gravity of the decision Chuuya has to take and therefore leaves the decision up to him.

Third time using corruption: Dragon's Head Conflict

Chuuya and Dazai' s age: 16 yrs old

During this one, Chuuya demands to know where his friends are, and Shibusawa says all six of them killed themselves after being caught. Enraged, Chuuya activates Corruption which ultimatley ended the 88 day conflict.

There isn't much to say about Dazai and Chuuya here since there isn't really an aftermath on this occasion but I bealive this picture is enough.

Before reading the DA manga, I genuienly thought that the only time Chuuya ever rested on Dazai's lap was when they were 22 but this proved me wrong.

I mean this is a minimal thing to point out but if Dazai disregarded Chuuya he would've just left him there, right? But instead he remained with Chuuya and allowed him to rest on his lap, in the picture you can also see he is putting Chuuya's hat back on. It's such a simple gesture but it shows us how caring Dazai can be when it comes to Chuuya using corruption.

Fourth time using corruption: Lovecraft Battle, Double Black reunion

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 22 yrs old

This is personally one of my favorite times in which Chuuya uses corruption. The fact that these two had not been working together for 4 years yet they still managed to not only accomplish their mission, but mantain their trust for one another.

I find what Chuuya says here extremely ironic because if anything, the choice has always been up to him. Dazai always uses corruption as a last-resort trick and its always Chuuya who makes the final decision of using it or not, even in a life or death situation Dazai won't take it upon himself to force Chuuya to make the decision if they will be using it or not, and hes always willing to come up with an alternative plan in case Chuuya refuses. (an example of this is when Chuuya used corruption for the 2nd time in SB).

I think the reason as to why Dazai takes corruption extremely seriously is because during stormbringer he was the first person to even see Chuuya use corruption and also the person who understood how corruption will always be sort of like a burden to Chuuya, since it was thanks to corruption that his "am I human?" question stayed unanswered.

He knows how it feels to struggle with your own humanity and he doesn't want for Chuuya (who he literally sees as human), to hold that inner conflict with himself because of corruption.

Anyways, Chuuya decides to go through corruption trusting that Dazai will be there to nullify it.

And of course, Dazai does nullify it.

And after Dazai nullifies corruption, we get this very touching moment between both of them.

This is the first time Chuuya openly admits to trusting Dazai, although it was always evident that he trusts him, I just love how open he is being here.

Also the light punch he gives to Dazai's chest is such a sweet gesture, I see it as a silent way for Chuuya to say "I trust you because after all this time I still see you as my partner."

Dazai's smile in that small pannel is one of the most genuine expression we have gotten out of him. What he says is also a very sweet, I love that he calls him partner. The fact that these two are literally in rival organizations yet Dazai still calls him partner, it shows us that even after all these years he still can't help but see him the same way as he has always done.

Actually in Japanese he calls him "Aibou" and from my understanding, when you use the term Aibou it's for someone who you consider yourself to be close with. It means "partner" like in english but it holds a deeper meaning. If Dazai used the word "nakama" it would have been a very diffrent story since it means partner as well but it isn't used for someone you share a significant connection with. Asagiri's play with words here says a lot.

Fifth time using corruption: Dead Apple

Chuuya and Dazai's age: 22yrs old.

Of course I have to talk about one of the most iconic moments in the history of Soukoku.

Chuuya uses corruption to save Dazai, even if Ango says that he's dead for sure. Something I find very intresting here though is that Chuuya screams for Dazai while he is on corruption, he is obviously not supposed to be self concious about the whole situation, while on Corruption clearly he is not supposed to be in sane state of mind, as we all here know, Chuuya loses control and does not have the track of reality while under his own ability but this time, while using corruption, the one and only thing that was on his mind was "Dazai."

It wasn't only Chuuya who entrusted his life to Dazai, Dazai too entrusted his life in Chuuya's hands. When Dazai came up with this plan, he was more than certain that Chuuya was going to save him. And I think a tumblr blog pointed this out but when Chuuya uses curroption, he cannot control his strength, but when he had to punch Dazai he did it lightly, which is strange considering he was using curroption and it would've made a lot more sence if Dazai ended up decapitated due to being punched by a literal god. Dazai had to have faith in the fact that Chuuya will somehow be able to control corruption, even if its just a little bit.

Afterwards when Chuuya manages to rescue Dazai, Dazai gently touches his cheek to nullify corruption and greets him with, "You used Corruption believing in me? I am so touched I could cry." Chuuya groans, and replies that yes he did, that he believed in his disgusting vitality and craftiness.

When they both fall to the ground, Dazai forces Chuuya to rest in his lap because he didn't want to have to protect him from this situation since the fog is still up and Chuuya himself is all worn out and wouldn't be able to fight. But heres the thing, both Chuuya and Dazai's abilities can't be seperated by the fog. I mean Dazai's ability is nulification so it basically cancels out, and Chuuya hosts a literal god inside him so it isn't really an ability if you know what I mean.

So in reality, Dazai just wanted Chuuya to rest. Dazai could've literally just left Chuuya in the fog if he was only using him for his goals, but he was genuienly appreciating Chuuya's trust in him. The way Dazai's hand is resting on Chuuya's hair is a nice gesture too, he is greatful for him and he is moved that someone trusts him, it is shown throughout the Fifthteen and SB light novel that no one trusted Dazai and how most were afraid to even approach him. And in the ADA, everyone is somewhat warry around him (excluding Atsushi ofc). But Chuuya literally puts his life on the line trusting that Dazai will always be there to save him. He trusts him greatly and Dazai knows that, and I think its pretty clear to us that he would never want to break that trust.

The fact that Chuuya trusts Dazai even after he left the Port Mafia without an explanation or goodbye shows us how strong their bond is. Chuuya most likely trusts Dazai because deep down he knows that he isn't using Chuuya's ability out of his own selifshness, a part of him is aware that Dazai uses corruption as a last resort but he just doesn't want to admit it, and I feel like he also trusts him subconciously because of how gentle Dazai is after Chuuya uses corruption.

I really hope we get to see more of these "corruption moments" because in all honesty, these moments are the ones that bring out the most vulenrability for both characters. The moment corruption is used, we see the inmeasurable amount of trust and care these two have for each other that they won't show in other situations. During these times it always shines a very open and bittersweet light on their bond and I love it so much.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes