#in the hopes that that will fix things somehow!

[ember-des-meeres]

Doing this not only for myself, but for any future relationships with actual kind and healthy people who somehow, miraculously, really want to be with me, too :(

To whoever that unicorn is, if I ever actually even find him:

I'm sorry I'm like this, I know you didn't ask for this and I'm sure you definitely don't deserve all of my trauma responses to seemingly unrelated as hell shit, or any trauma-dumping that I may vomit out only to over-apologize to you for later and then try to over-compliment you for handling in some unconscious sad attempt to make up for it because I know it's an unhealthy rollercoaster, I know that my fawning response only weakens your perception of me and hurts the relationship, I know that my fear of abandonment can create a self-fulfilling prophecy, I know that you cannot fix me for me and that only I can do that (with proper help). I never, ever want to feel like another worry or a burden. Re-parenting is really hard work, but I really do want to be a stronger person - not just for myself, but for us. I want to be your partner. I want you to be able to rely on me to ease the burden, not add to it. I really am doing my very best to work on myself, both inside and out, and become someone who is worthy of that for you. I promise that I don't need someone who's perfect, just someone who tries, and I only ask to be bestowed that same exact courtesy. I am loyal to a fault. I will fight for you and for our family. I will show up and support you. I want to be someone that you can't wait to talk about your day to. I want to be someone who you are excited to share things with. I want to be someone who can get you to laugh, especially when I know you really need it - and I also want you to feel understood and respected on the days that you just need to be alone or do your own thing, because I know I have those days, too, and some respectful distance is healthy. I want you to feel free to have your own friends just as I have mine. I want you to feel safe trusting me and being yourself around me. I want to play silly video games with you and I want to travel the world with you. I want our home to be filled with laughter and creativity and comfort and fun, wherever it is. I don't want us to just tolerate each other and survive, I want us to actually feel safe and happy and loved in our home. I really hope that you can forgive me for the times that I slip up :( because I really do want us to thrive and have a wonderful life together - and I believe that if we both are sincerely working at it, then we really can.

With love, Someone who is already working on it

Honestly it boils down to reparenting yourself & rewiring your own neuronal pathways & telling yourself a firm “stop” when you notice your mind slipping down negative loopholes & being present in the moment & enjoying being mid task rather than waiting for it to end & not thinking of inertia as your baseline and natural way of living

[icypopz]

coming over when they're drunk ♡

↬ request from anon ; Hiiii, may I please request the LADS boys getting really drunk, and they decided to come to her house late at night (they either live together or just came to her apartment). It can be only Zayne, tho.

↬ notes ; caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; hihi!! it's been like 7000 years since i last wrote but caleb's announcement has resurrected me!! this prompt was so fun and silly... anyways i hope you enjoy this!

↬ warning(s) ; all LIs are drunk, caleb antis dni, mc is described as shorter than all of them, sylus + zayne's are p suggestive

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ caleb ! ]

"caleb?" what are you doing here?" you gasp as you open the door and see his familiar figure leaning against the frame. he's so tall that he has to duck to enter your apartment, and he stumbles as he does, making you rush to support him. "y/n..." he mumbles, his voice deep and husky, and you feel your heartbeat speed up at the way he says your name, "missed you..." "tsk, you're so dumb," you scold, though your heated cheeks betray how flustered you really are, "going and getting drunk even though you know you can't handle alcohol?" "mmphhh..." he groans as you both somehow manage to land on the sofa, his head resting on your chest, "sorry." you roll your eyes affectionately, threading your hands through his hair, "it's fine, silly. you're going to be the one hungover tomorrow." he nuzzles further into your chest, making you squeak, "hey! caleb!" "just let me sleep here..." and just like that, he's out like a light, his head tucked perfectly in the crook of your neck even though he's so much taller than you. well, you've known him for so many years that being this close is fine, right? it's totally fine that your heart is racing at a million miles per hour from how your dear childhood friend is sleeping on you... right?

more content utc !

[ rafayel ! ]

"ugh, raf, get off!" you groan, trying (and failing) to shove the purple-haired artist off you. "you're too heavy!" "but miss bodyguard~" he whines, lifting his head from how he's draped all 183cm of himself onto you, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders as if daring you to leave. his cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol, crimson dusting his ears when he gazes at you, "you're so warm! and it's sooo cold! you don't want your precious rafayel to freeze, do you?" he pouts, jutting out his lower lip in a way that's deceivingly adorable, and it almost makes you fold. keyword: almost. "well, you don't want your precious miss hunter to get crushed, do you?" you retort, even though you press yourself further into his comforting embrace. "if it's with me, then it's fine," rafayel teases, "i'll take care of you even if you're a pancake." "you're so annoying," you huff, though there's no real anger in your tone as you tuck a strand of purple hair behind his ear. "i'll even get you the best maple syrup and everything!" "...go to sleep, rafayel."

[ sylus ! ]

"sylus?" the two of you are in his mansion in the n109 zone, and he's just returned from another protocore auction. you help him slip off his masquerade mask, though you know he doesn't need to conceal his identity in someplace like this where his name is fear-inducing enough. "are you okay?" your palm presses against his cheek and forehead, checking if he has a fever, "you seem a little flushed." his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your touch, exhaling slowly, "it's nothing... i might have drank too much earlier." his large hand envelops yours, and he opens his ruby eyes once more, fixing his intense gaze on your face, "you're making me want to do very bad things, kitten." "i haven't even done anything- ah!" you argue, but your sentence is cut off as he sweeps you into his arms, lifting you easily into a princess carry. "you talk too much," he teases as you half-heartedly punch his chest, "ugh, sylus!" "i can think of several better ways for you to use that mouth of yours," he smirks as he kicks open your bedroom door, "so let's put those pretty lips to good use, hm?"

[ xavier ! ]

it's two in the morning when you hear a thump on your balcony. arming yourself, you stalk forward slowly, only to see, "xavier?!" "ah. hello, y/n." he stands up shakily, only to lean sideways and fall into a chair. "i was trying to teleport back home... but i guess i ended up at your apartment instead." he looks at you with his irresistible puppy eyes, and you can already guess what he's going to say next. throwing your hands up in defeat, you sigh, "sure, you can stay over." but as he stands up once more, almost toppling over again, you raise an eyebrow, "xavier, are you drunk?" "...not really." he looks away, and you can see how his neck is flushed, "liar. come here, let me help you." as you help him balance with his arm around you and head back inside, xavier's familiar scent wraps around the two of you like a soothing hug. "do i get to share a bed with you?" his eyes light up when you push open the bedroom door, "yeah, i feel too bad making you sleep on the couch when you're like this." his other hand sneaks up underneath the back of your shirt, pressing against your bare skin and sending waves of heat through your body. a gasp slips past your lips, and when you look up at xavier, he merely smiles, "i guess it's a good thing that i ended up here tonight after all."

[ zayne ! ]

"hmm..." you pretend to look thoughtful, gaze roving over zayne's tall figure as he sits on your couch, "is the famous dr. zayne perhaps... drunk?!" your voice turns dramatic, "how scandalous!" zayne looks at you confusedly, dark eyes seeming even darker and rounder than usual like a pair of twin boba pearls, "...what?" "aw, zayne! you're so cute like this!" you gush, giggling and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. "my senses are not that impaired," he retorts, though his voice softens as he feels your familiar weight on his lap, "i am just... tipsy." "mhmm, whatever you say~" you tease, pressing a flurry of kisses along his neck. "d-don't do that..." he gasps, breath hitching as your lips drag over his pulse point, "i might not be able to hold myself back." "so don't." you lean back and tilt your head smugly, knowing that he's putty in your hands, "who said i wanted you to hold back anyway?" his eyes narrow behind his glasses, "don't say things you don't mean." "i mean it one hundred percent~" you smirk, leaning forward to steal his breath with another heated kiss. zayne's hands tighten their grip on your waist before he pins you underneath him, "whatever you say, y/n."

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[106alibi]

good graces ; bad luck

you looked up from your phone, pursing your lips as you watched heeseung order coffee from the counter, wondering why your stupid ass blurted out a cheery ‘sure!’ when you bumped into heeseung at the fitting room of a brand your supervisor, doyoung, had sent you to run errands at, and he had suspiciously innocently looked so glad to see you.

“so how have you been?” heeseung slid into the seat opposite you, handing you the coffee he had ordered for you.

heeseung had always been a friendly acquaintance, a pleasure to meet whenever he had a shoot with your magazine or was present at the dorm when you visited jake. on any other occasion, you would've been glad to see him too. but not now, not after what his best friend had done.

“i've been… okay.” you chewed on your straw, your eyes fixing on your fingers that fiddled in your lap.

“I heard what happened…between you and jake.” your head snapped up, observing as heeseung pursed his lips.

“I hope you've been coping well though, it's not anyone's fault things happened the way it did.” he sighed with a sympathy that somehow felt genuine. your eyebrows knitted. not anyone's fault? how could it not be anyone's fault, when the culprit lived and breathed the same air as him and made headlines for his new relationship?

your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain your raw thoughts, “I've been well. perfect, actually. I've been seeing someone.” you took a big gulp of your coffee.

heeseung’s face lit up, “that boxer, right? I saw your post! i had so many questions, like where you met him and all that… I'm surprised at how fast both you and jake moved on after your break up, but I'm happy for you-”

“wait, break up?”

heeseung blinked at your interruption, his silence making the cogs in your head whirl as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“heeseung, what did jake tell you about our ‘break up’?”

“oh… well he just said you broke up because rumours got out within your company and your boss wasn't happy with you, like, dating an idol. and like two months or so after that he started dating natty.”

things weren't making sense. while you had done your best to keep your relationship with jake a secret, the only other person who knew besides your girls was doyoung, and you knew he didn't give a damn about your love life. secondly, besides the fact that jake cheated on you, jake had also lied to his friends that he had broken up with you while you were still dating him.

while you were still missing him daily, wondering what he was up to. while you were still hoping for the day the two of you could go public. while you were still wishing him ‘good night’s and ‘love you's over the phone.

fuck. you had never felt so, fucking, played. that's why heeseung sat there, looking oblivious as shit because he was. because he was under the impression that the breakup was mutual, that no one was at fault.

you didn't have the capacity to sit in front of heeseung and explain the truth. you feared it would only humiliate you more.

“hey, thanks for the coffee. I need to get back to work.”

you hoped he didn't notice the slight tremor in your voice, or the dampness of your eyes. you crushed the empty coffee cup in your hands and tossed it in the bin on your way out as you trudged down the street as far away from heeseung as possible, your hands still balled into shaking fists as your anger seeped through your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

you sniffled, bringing your fists up to your eyes to rub away your tears harshly, trying to suppress a sob that was bubbling up your throat, your legs still moving in constant motion as your elbow bumped into someone.

“sorry.” you muttered, turning to bow slightly, keeping your head low and timid as you turned to continue walking to god-knows-where, when a hand shot out to grab your arm.

“miss y/n?” and to your absolute horror, because bumping into heeseung wasn't quite enough bad luck for the day, you had to bump into jeno too.

prev | m.list | next

a/n: next chapter mayyy or may not also be written depending on whichever better expresses the scene I have in my mind. also I'm soooo sorry for the slow updates 😭😭😭🙏🙏

and!! I need feedback!!! do y'all think the pacing of the story could be faster/slower? or its okay where it is now?

taglist: @yutarot @rksbae @sevn97 @dreamiestay @raevyng @catpjimin @mrsjohnnysuh @xiuriii @minkyuncutie @jaehyunsjasmine @cookiehaos @jenoleeaesthetic @tynlvr @ohwowzersthatscool @rubiiisyeon @multifandomania @natokkiz @veilico @jeonghansshitester @jkslvsnella @jungaji @xyzsiissnnsnsjs @17ericas @elsbunny @grassbutneo @nosungluv @flamingi @xxxx-23nct @baobeii55 @shoetaroshoe @tannieflix @myballsareitchy2 @doyotint @mood-nyvy @hyuoonp @joyzluvr @livingdoll-hara @hyuck-me @zzurao @luvandletter @jae-n0 @stqrgr7 @dudekiss3r @ksywoo @kodasity @jirsungs @hibernatinghamster @blamingontheboogie @neozon3nha @catdonut657

[graveyardhorror]

౨ৎ ARCANE | zombie apocalypse

misc. masterlist

JINX

-the stereotypical character in every zombie movie who seems to be perfectly prepared for the apocalypse, has all the guns and ammo for an entire military base, and if she somehow runs out she’ll just make more she’s crafty like that, lived off of non perishables and will continue to do so, has the coolest most unique base where she lives alone, it’s high off ground and booby trapped for any survivors who might try and steal from her, thrives off the mostly quiet life, has every weapon imaginable 

VI / VIOLET

-though she makes some questionable choices sometimes she is overall a great survivor, makes a lot of jokes to herself and laughs at them too, prefers snacks over actual cans of food, her base is an RV she found and fixed up, can fix and restore anything (bob the builder lesbian), has driven across the country in hopes of finding survivors but never seems to have the luck of finding anything other than zombies, does insane parkour for no reason  

CAITLYN

-perfect survivor, but can’t help but grimace at every zombie she has to kill, hates every second life during an apocalypse, she can survive with little because she can make it work but wishes she had the food and tea from before, snipes any zombies before they even get near her base, lives in an empty government building, can patch up any injury, light sleeper who can’t sleep upon hearing even the slightest noise

EKKO

-the type of person who swears they have never trained or stocked up on food and water for a possible apocalypse but secretly does, is pretty confident in his ability to survive and fight off zombies, finds the perfect base where he brings other survivors (the boy savior <3), truly does it all, from building things from scraps, great at scavenging for food and other supplies, cooking with limited ingredients, and even patching up all kinds of injuries

dividers by cafekitsune

[tkdb-hell]

16 for haku x reader please please please??

#16 - One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

The rejection letter sat crumpled in your hand, the official seal of Darkwick Academy glaring back at you as if mocking your disappointment. You’d worked tirelessly for that R&R request, meticulously detailing your plans to visit somewhere—anywhere—that wasn’t shrouded in anomaly-related chaos. But the response had been swift and merciless: denied.

You slumped against one of Hotarubi’s many mist-covered trees, the damp air clinging to your clothes as you tried (and failed) to shake off your sulk. Crossing your arms, you stared out at the purple blossoms swaying gently in the breeze, hoping they’d somehow distract you from your frustration.

“Yikes,” a familiar voice drawled, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I can feel that pout all the way across the garden.”

Haku strolled over, his hands casually stuffed into his uniform pockets, his mismatched eyes gleaming with their usual playful light. He tilted his head, green hair falling over one eye as he gave you an exaggerated frown in return. “What’s got you looking like someone stole your last snack?”

You held up the crumpled letter with a groan. “Darkwick denied my R&R request. Again. Guess I’m doomed to live and breathe anomalies forever.”

Haku took the letter, smoothing it out between his hands with surprising care. “Huh. Denied.” He squinted at the text before looking back at you, his lips quirking into a grin. “Well, you know what they say—work hard, suffer harder.”

You shot him a glare, but he only laughed, leaning against the tree beside you. “Come on, don’t give me that look. It’s not that bad. At least you’ve got me to keep you entertained.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, pouting even harder as you crossed your arms tighter. “That makes up for everything.”

Haku clicked his tongue, tapping a finger to his chin as though deep in thought. “Nope. That pout’s not gonna fly. It’s illegal, actually. Against Hotarubi rules.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hotarubi rules? Since when?”

“Since now,” he replied smoothly, pushing off the tree and stepping closer. “And there’s only one way to fix it.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Haku leaned in, his warm hand gently cradling your chin as he tilted your face up to meet his. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that left no room for argument. It was so sudden, so effortlessly Haku, that your pout melted away before you even realized it.

When he finally pulled back, his grin was wider than ever. “See? Problem solved.”

Your cheeks burned, and you stumbled for a response. “That’s—that’s not how rules work.”

“Sure it is,” he said with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And if you pout again, I’ll just have to enforce the rule a second time.”

Despite yourself, a laugh bubbled up in your throat, and the weight of the rejection didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

He nudged your shoulder. “Now, how about we ditch the letter and get some tea? My treat. Unless you’d rather keep pouting…”

You shoved the letter into your pocket, shaking your head. “Fine. But only because I’m curious about what other ridiculous rules you’ve come up with.”

Haku chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulders as the two of you strolled back toward the dormitory. “Oh, trust me—you’ve only scratched the surface.”

And as the mist curled lazily around you, the rejection felt a little less painful with Haku by your side.

[mysteriousxgirls]

Aida’s chest tightened with every word Leo spoke, each sentence feeling like a dagger piercing her heart. She listened to him, her heart breaking more with each passing moment, realizing how deeply she had hurt him. She never meant to do this, never meant to break him the way she had, but the truth was undeniable. The things she’d said, the way she’d treated him in high school… they had left scars. And now, as he stood there, raw and unguarded, she wasn’t sure if there was any way to fix it. She couldn’t undo the past, and worse yet, she didn’t know if he could ever forgive her for what she had done.

He was right. Why should he care? After everything, after the way she had treated him, why should he feel anything for her? She had pushed him away, made him feel small, made him feel unworthy. And now, she was standing here, asking him to believe that everything had changed. But… he was still here, wasn’t he? He hadn’t walked away. That small thread of hope fluttered in her chest, fragile and tentative, as she stared at him, desperately searching for something—anything—that would tell her it wasn’t too late. Then, before she could say anything more, before she could even gather her thoughts, Leo was suddenly right in front of her. His hands were on her, pulling her close, his mouth crashing down onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath away. It was wild. It was desperate. That kiss—oh, how she had yearned for it, how it had haunted her dreams for years. It was everything she’d ever wanted, and still so much more. Aida’s hands moved instinctively, gripping him as if she could hold on to this moment forever, as if she could somehow make up for all the lost time, all the broken pieces. She kissed him back with everything she had, her tears mingling with the heat of his mouth, a silent apology and a raw confession. She had hurt him, yes. But in this moment, she was trying to fix it. She was trying to tell him, without words, how much she needed him—how much she had always needed him.

When they finally pulled apart, both gasping for air, her forehead rested against his, her eyes closed as she tried to steady herself. She was still shaking, still overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that had flooded her all at once. But there was something in her chest, a sense of relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted. "Leo," she murmured, her voice barely audible, breathless and wide-eyed, hoping that this was the start of something new. "Can you forgive me?"

Leo stood rooted to the spot, the weight of Aida’s words crashing into him like waves against a cliff. His jaw tightened, a muscle flickering beneath his skin, and his eyes, dark and stormy, burned with a raw mix of emotions—hurt, disbelief, frustration. He wanted to cling to the anger, to let the bitterness he’d carried for years rise up and shield him from the vulnerability threatening to crack through. But as her trembling voice wrapped around him, as her hands gripped his sleeve like it was the only thing anchoring her to the moment, that anger began to fray, unraveling thread by thread, no matter how tightly he held on. His lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came. Instead, he looked at her—really looked at her. The way her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the way color bloomed high on her cheeks, and the way her chest rose and fell with every unsteady breath. She was close now, too close, and the heat radiating from her seemed to seep into his skin, setting him alight. He could see the tremor in her fingers where they clung to him, feel the electricity crackling in the scant space between them. The air was thick, charged with something dangerous and unspoken, a magnetic tension neither dared to break. 

"Do you have any idea what that did to me?" His voice was low and jagged, as if pulled from somewhere deep within him. "What it felt like to have you tear me down every chance you got? And now you’re standing here, telling me it was all because you couldn’t handle your feelings? That’s… that’s really fucking messed up, Aida." His head shook, his expression a mix of disbelief and something sharper, something vulnerable he couldn’t quite hide. "Really. Fucking. Messed. Up." He exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his dark, unruly hair, his fingers trembling at the edges. The same girl who had made him hate himself, question his worth, and doubt his place in the world was now standing here, saying she’d always felt the opposite. It was like the ground beneath him was shifting, and he didn’t know how to stop it. 

"Damn it, Aida..." His voice softened, rough around the edges but laced with something almost tender. He pushed off of the counter and started pacing up and down the kitchen. His eyes searched hers each time he faced her again, dark and intense, as though he was desperate to find the truth in her confession. "Why does it still feel like you’re the only one who gets under my skin? Like you’re still in my head after all these years, no matter how hard I try to forget you?" He broke off, a hollow laugh escaping him, tinged with frustration. "I fought a guy out there because I didn’t like the way he touched you, the way he talked to you. And for what? Why the hell should I care about any of that?" His voice cracked, and he ran a hand down his face as though trying to wipe away the feelings spilling over as he continued pacing. But the words kept coming, pouring out in a torrent he couldn’t control. "Why should I care about some guy who talks shit to you? Or touches you like that? Or the fact that you’re letting someone wear your ex’s clothes? Or who you patch up after a fight? Or who you say all this shit to?" He continued as though his exterior was pushing all of this out before he could really process that he did. He gave a damn about it all. And that's exactly why they were stood here right now. He swallowed hard and stopped pacing, his chest rising and falling as though the weight of everything was finally too much. He was now stood on the opposite side of the kitchen to her. The realisation hit him all at once, breaking down every wall he’d built to keep her out. She had pushed him into this version of himself, into the man he’d fought to become. Her brutal honesty, her merciless teasing—they had shaped him, forced him to find strength he hadn’t known he possessed. He hated her for it, but god, he was grateful, too. His gaze flicked to hers, and the tension between them reached a fever pitch, the air charged with the electricity of everything left unsaid. The fire in her eyes only fueled the one burning in him, and before he could think better of it, he moved.

With a growl of frustration and desire, Leo surged forward, his large, muscular arm snaking around her waist in one fluid motion. His forearm, strong and corded with sinew, pressed firmly against the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. The heat of his body enveloped hers as his free hand slid up, fingers threading into her hair at the nape of her neck, his grip firm but gentle, anchoring her to him. And then his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was a storm, wild and consuming, a heady mix of frustration, longing, and years of unspoken emotions finally unleashed. His lips were rough yet searching, demanding yet vulnerable, tasting of everything they had been too afraid to say. 

[obsidianpen]

unpopular opinion: admit it or not but no glory would've been more popular on ao3 than blood & gold if it wasn't locked, considering it's popularity on tiktok. even big accounts on tiktok about fanfic recommendations and stuffs, recommends no glory and their videos is always a hit. don't get me wrong i'm a blood & gold fan, like seriously. but i think no glory is more closer of getting popular along side of manacled, like seriously check tiktok and search no glory and all videos are hits. everytime i search blood & gold on tiktok hoping if some people read it, i barely see any videos compared to no glory. is this a sign to read no glory?😭

well this is certainly part of the problem - something being popular on TikTok is NOT a surefire sign that it’s a good story. There are a LOT of amazing fics that aren’t on TikTok. Like most of them probably. And honestly, I’ve seen some pretty atrocious ones get posted about and reccd there, particularly in tomione. Cough cough.

let’s talk about the tiktokification (and adjacent, instagramification) of fanfics! Like all things, I think there are good and bad parts of this. I think it can be fun when readers like a story so much they make a TikTok about it to hype up the author. That’s how the exchange of fandom is supposed to work: the writer makes and shares a story with the world for free; the reader says thank you by providing feedback in the form of a comment or in this case, reccing it on social media, maybe even going as far as to make a fun video or edit. Fine. Fun. Go at it.

(side note to give special thanks to all fan artists; I think I speak for most writers when I say this is the BEST???? Fanfic inspiring fanart is the best exchange ever, true fandom love)

where I find a problem with TikTok and all that is when writers themselves are hyping up their own work on social media like it’s a job, making catchy funny videos with the intent to reach many people as possible and blow up - on a site that where posts can be monetized. It feels very cringey to me. Like, ulterior motive-y. Sorry if I’m offending anyone with this take, feel free to disagree and do your thing!

but on to No Glory’s presence on TikTok - truly, this was a surprise to me when I first saw it. I don’t agree that it would be ‘manacled popularity status’ because… it’s harrymort. It’s a far cry from Draco and Hermione, that’s for sure (not that I can’t and won’t make a solid argument for how canon compliant - though admittedly very fucked up - harrymort is!). I think it’s fair to say that No Glory is a bit of a ‘despite the’ situation, meaning, it is somehow popular despite having graphic torture, death, trauma, rape, etc. And none of those things are done lightly, nor are they ever excused (the murderer/rapist is not pardoned for any of his bullshit nor is he coerced into doing any of it; he is a Villain, capital V). So yeah, it’s surprising to me that it is as popular as it is, given all that AND that’s it’s a WIP, seeing as there is also (I think) a big trend for people only reading completed fics (these folks are almost missing the point of fandom and how it works and they suck, but that’s a different rant).

I’m losing the plot. Er, I don’t think NG being locked for a while would have made TOO much a difference, but maybe it would have - I’m sure people were sharing it with those who didn’t have accounts and so it probably would have more ‘hits’ or whatever if it hadn’t been. But all in all I don’t think it would be ‘manacled popular’. Because Harry is a (poor young) man, Voldemort is Voldemort, the age gap is both much too large and much too small (if it were an inhuman number of years, book tok logic says it becomes okay again), and everything is so fucked and unforgiving almost all the time. And not in the cute ‘I can fix him and everything!’ way. In the ‘there is nothing that can make him redeemable ever so I’m going to disassociate until I implode over and over again’ kind of way.

[notstnana]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

ミ★thinking about how the reader misses Jayce after the final fight.

ミ★Jayce Talis x Reader, fem!reader, angst,grieveing.

the way you lie there staring at a fixed point without any reference on the ceiling, slightly illuminated by the moonlight that filters through the window that you didn't even bother to cover with the curtains, the not agonizing but insistent and consistent pain right in the bags under your eyes, swollen by the tears you shed on Jayce's hammer.

Jayce's hammer was the only thing you found after the explosion that shook Piltover, your knees still hurt from that slip you had running desperately into the building, hoping to find Jayce, it was the only thing that went through your mind, but unfortunately it wasn't like that, you only found his hammer with that abstract look, the grip was not complete and you could see the disintegrated parts of it on the ground, You searched everywhere for Jayce as if the place you were standing had someplace where he could possibly be hiding, but it was useless, it was just your mind denying, insisting that it couldn't be possible…he couldn't be gone just like that…right?

the sheets felt especially cold on your skin, the environment that before what happened had so felt warm,cozy and full of love, now felt flat and lost like a hospital room with its white light being scorching, you were in the center of the bed, like you always used to be, only now the place where jayce always slept was cold, jayce used to sleep on the edge of the bed, as if he was scolded which always made you laugh, sometimes even if you slept hugging jayce always loved to sleep on the edge of the bed, the right one specifically, he always told you that it was a habit he had since he was a child, when the bed he shared with his mother was too small and somehow he took a certain liking to sleeping like that.

A shaky sigh left your lips, thinking about how you couldn't even say goodbye to him, remembering the last words you barely heard over the noise of the battle between Ambessa Medarda's army and her Noxian soldiers against the people of Piltover, "I have to do this" and you saw him leave without knowing that it would be the last time or that you would be the last person to see him, you turned to the side covering yourself even more with the sheets trying to protect yourself from the inescapable cold.

Feeling your heart hammer in your chest from the overwhelming feeling, you settled down on the edge where Jayce sleeps… used to sleep, taking a deep breath you can still smell his perfume impregnated in the mattress, you closed your eyes and costly succumbed to the tiredness that filled your bones after the fight and having lost the man you loved, 𝒋𝒂𝒚𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒊𝒓.

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - A Dark Offer

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

After a long cry out, Ralsei tries to get Kris to open up a bit. What Kris wants does have a cost, though!

Second part is here, and third part will be up tomorrow!

[theswedishpajas]

[Mii Maker Music]

!!Find the palette in this thread!!

[alistair-blackwood]

man the griffin soup chapter and the changeling chapter really just happened to fall into the same episode bracket huh ...

[hazbinned]

Angel Dust's accusatory words cut through Vox's train of thought like a paring knife. He snapped his head around to glare at him, but the look on his touch-screen face was not sufficiently laced with poison. What it lacked in animosity, it made up for in discomfiture; red eyes flicked to and fro across the battered visage of Angel's person, cyan teeth gritting together as if to stop Vox from saying something callous.

Then it clicked. Angel thought Vox knew.

The television Overlord veered back, humiliation seeping in.

"What?! You- You seriously think I was watching that?" he gawked. "I have a life outside of you. I do!"

He hastily reached for the rag and doused it in a fair amount of rubbing alcohol, clambering around (and halfway onto) the sink so he could dab at the worst of the arachnid's incisions.

"I'm... and I don't... I didn't see it. I was tuned into a different station."

Vox was telling the truth— but as he sat there, straining to mend the cuts in Angel's back, he wondered if the spider would believe him.

"I could go play it back," the media mogul continued, "But I haven't. While I was getting ready for Val to come home, I was on the phone with Velvette. Doing..." He reached for the tweezers, pulled the fur aside and pried the first sliver of glass out of the porn star's body. "Hands-on, real-world things. I was hoping for a date night with Val."

Hence the food. And the greeting. And his huff-and-puff tantrum.

Vox plunked the shard into the trash bin near their feet.

"I'm hard-pressed to find anything to celebrate," he admitted.

He repeated the extraction process a few more times, until most of the glass was out and white fluff was scrubbed of red.

Angel did not have to believe him. Angel didn't owe him anything. Vox had, one too many times, reveled in the spider's distress. He'd delighted in watching the poor arachnid be 'put in his place' by Val— the pleading, the punishments, even the intimacy. It had felt like revenge, somehow. Revenge for stealing the moth away from him. It had been enticing. Rewarding.

Addicting.

Vox was an addict, and Angel Dust was his favorite drug.

He didn't understand why he was feeling as sickened by it all as he was, but it felt to him now that the very thing that had brought him ecstasy for so many years had suddenly turned sour and curdled.

Age-old milk upon his tongue.

He was offended that the spider had even accused him. But why?

Did he care about Angel all of a sudden? Was that moment in the hallway some kind of turning point for the two of them?

Vox had apologized to Angel then, but it was going to take more than a 'sorry' to fix his gory trail of misdeeds.

Flicking the last few glass-fragments into the garbage, the sinner shifted a little bit on his knees and then pressed the cloth harder against the wounds to soak up any residual bleeding.

"... You don't have to tell me," he conceded after a while. Quieter than before. "I'll delete it."

Vox pulled the rag away and ran it under the sink.

"You can watch."

Then, he turned to him.

"Where else does it hurt?"

Aside from the obvious, he thought as he blinked at him, the 'obvious' here being Angel Dust's hands. Hypnosis might have undone the emotional scarring left by the shattered cup, but it certainly hadn't left any effect on the physical.

Were there any remnants stuck in Angel's chest? Legs? Lower back? He knew he had to get to the ones in the exposed flesh near his collarbone, but he figured he'd get the rough of it out of the way first.

"I mean, you'll have to pull the top part of the dress off if you want me to bandage it," Vox added. "But that... is... uh, your call."

Vox's efforts to coax Angel from his frantic frenzy went entirely unnoticed, a pinprick amid the punctures as the glass slashed his hands. He could fix this. Shards shredded the stained carpet and sliced the spider's flesh as he gathered the splattered fragments, a harsh and impossible jigsaw puzzle that resisted it's own solving. He could fix this. He could put it back together. He-

The glass spilt from Angel's hands as he was abruptly guided into facing his unlikely saviour, the task forgotten even before the next crucial step to his taming was initiated. The spider's eyes thinned to screwed-up slits as a sea of blue light flooded his vision, blotting out everything that wasn't its source as a sharp fingertip drew him closer. Even if Angel hadn't been disoriented from the alcohol-enhanced dissociation, the split second of realisation before the wave of hypnosis washed over him was nowhere near long enough to put up a fight.

Red light bled into blue as the television's all-seeing eye expanded, rings swimming and swirling within them like ripples in slow-moving water. Angel slumped to his knees, his face tilted further upward by the Overlord's metallic claw as the rest of his body fell like dead weight. Had he been in a fitter state of mind, the actor might have tried fruitlessly to fight the loss of control he was experiencing, screeching and flailing within the padded cell of his own mind until he inevitably succumbed to it's influence.

But, for the first time this awful night, Angel felt relaxed. This was what he had been looking for at the bottom of the bottle, in his agreement to let Val drug him. Loosened and numb, the pain and torment had been dulled to a barely-perceptible tingling from somewhere so far away that it could no longer be reached, somewhere no longer real. All that existed was that tranquil blue light with its scarlet centre, drawing Angel in, in, in...

Angel didn't break the glass. Vox did.

That must have been what happened. That's what it felt like as Angel's limbs softened like rubber, all but melting into the carpet.

I broke it, Angel. You saw it happen.

Yes, he did. He saw Vox break the glass. He saw it happen.

You don't want to clean up my mess...

It didn't even hurt, the glass splinters now embedded in his hands as well as his back. He might as well have been holding cotton wool. Val might as well have thrown him into a soft, comfortable bed of plush pillows and blankets.

...So stop touching it.

By the time the trance had started to wear off, Angel was being escorted away from the scene of the crime, leaning against the other as he stumbled alongside him. He must have zoned out, he realised, wobbling slightly as he was released onto the stool. Blinking blearily under the synthetic light, he watched dumbly as Vox rummaged through the bathroom cabinet. What was he doing? Before the arachnid had the chance to question him, the Media Overlord met Angel with a question of his own.

Did the dress show everything? Well, no, was Angel's initial thought: he had to leave something to the imagination, or else-

Oh. He meant the glass.

A shrug of one shoulder was all the spider gave in response. How should he know? Val had given him a strict time limit to get ready - all he cared about was squeezing into something tight-fitting and provocative. He wasn't accounting for exactly how many of his newly acquired wounds were on show. He didn't want to think about it.

Why did Vox even care?

The answer to this was hinted at as a damp wash cloth was pressed to Angel's forehead, the television demon posturing him like a doll so that one of his many hands was holding the cloth in place. Was this... Was Vox taking care of him?

In all the times that Val had taken Angel back to the Penthouse in a similar sorry state, Vox had never so much as batted an eye. In fact, other than the poorly concealed jealousy, the Overlord's reaction was most often a sick, smug gloating that oozed from that slimy grin of his when he realised that Angel was hurt. That Valentino had hurt him. That even if Val took Angel to bed that night, he wasn't going to enjoy it.

Snapped back into reality by Vox's piercing whistle, Angel looked up wearily. The collection of supplies that Vox had gathered looked medical - was he about to play nurse for him? Pick the glass shards from his flesh that he had presumably watched his partner crush him into with rapturous glee?

Was this what it had come to?

A swift moment's judgement told Angel that dragging the stool across the room would be a poor decision in his compromised state, so he opted for the sink. Pushing himself up onto the porcelain stung his hands - he must have cut them on the glass that Val shoved him into.

"What, it ain't enough ta watch it on the cameras? Ya need the commentary, too?" Angel replied scornfully. Vox just couldn't resist, could he? "Look, can I at least save the play by play account a' bein choked an' slammed inta broken glass 'til I'm less, ya know. Full a' glass?"

What the hell was this? Some roundabout way for Vox to get his kicks? Or was this him trying to actually help him, unable to restrain himself from prodding at the wound before stitching it up?

"Why're ya helpin' me?" Angel sighed, slurred from the combination of booze and exhaustion. "Ain't punchin' the air in celebration more yer style?"

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[freaky-flawless]

Could we celebrate any other character's birthday....

[delightful-69]

.

[commander-pigeon]

Finished the outer wilds and had an emotion so strong now my head hurts.