#like a nap

[spontaneousful]

Furina's Nightmares

I saw this post, which was super cute, and started thinking about all of the different nightmares Furina might have, and the answer is too many. Furina needs some love, a hug, and maybe a hot chocolate, but let's pit her against some of her fears instead >:D

◇The Knave actually kills her

Instead of stopping when she realizes Furina doesn't have the gnosis, the Knave kills her. I think would go great with also waking up from the nightmare and dealing with it, because if she would have died there, she would have died miserable, alone, and for nothing, because Fontaine would still be doomed.

♡ Bonus: She has this nightmare while she's still the archon and is completely alone. Hurt no comfort. I would cry reading this, honestly.

◇She is trapped in the Opera Epiclese

The Opera Epiclese is the best physical manifestation of her mental prison. She lived there, worked there, and watched every performance/trial hoping it would be the one to bring the end. She could leave it for a while, but she always had to return. Everything bad happened there, except her meeting with Focalors.

♡ She is trapped on the stage and back into a never-ending performance

♡ She is trapped in her room in the Palais Mermonia listening to people gossip about her, or letting down the charade only for someone to walk in, or just stuck there, alone and scared, and unable to do anything

♡ She is stuck in the Opera Epiclese while keeping up appearances as Fontaine's God

♡ She has to watch everyone else enter and exit freely, living their lives happily while she is stuck there forever

◇She is all alone in Fontaine/Everyone died

Imagine, for a moment, if you will, that when Furina goes outside to find the prophecy is false, she only finds an empty city. Or, consider, everyone is fine one minute, and gone the next.

♡ She visits her favorite spots, like the place that sells her favorite only-sixteen-slices-a-day cake, looking for anyone or anything left behind in a pristine Fontaine. There is nothing left.

♡ Before her eyes, Fontaine rots as if it's been abandoned for centuries. Suddenly, she is back on the throne, surrounded by water.

◇Forced to be in an opera or play/Being a puppet

She's spent 500 years playing the part of a pretentious god, a little more acting won't kill her! She's so good at it, it's a shame to let that talent go to waste. I think this would be scary for her because, obviously she was acting non-stop for 500 years and she no longer wants to be in the public eye like that, but also I think she would fear being invisible as in no one sees who she really is, they only see the facade.

♡ She's in a performance in the Opera Epiclese and cannot escape the spotlight

♡ She is back to being the archon, but her body moves and talks without her permission, and she can see the strings attached at the joints, but no one else seems to notice

♡ She is on the stage, acting a character she doesn't act like, when suddenly it's just a normal day, but she can't stop acting and no one sees anything wrong. Tea time with Neuvi and she's spewing insults?? Watching a performance at the Opera and having over-the-top reactions to every little thing?? Another meeting with the Knave and she's just like, bestie, let's blow this place up??

◇Fontaine is flooded and she is at the bottom of the ocean

This one is inspired by her character teaser, linked at the end if you haven't seen it. This one is like her finding Fontaine empty, but the city is underwater. This could have just been a bullet point under that one, but I wanted to make it its own thing. I would like to propose a fear of drowning to accompany this one.

♡ She watches Fontaine get overrun by marine life. Plants start growing on/inside of her

♡ She tries to swim to the surface and get away, but she can never make it to the surface

◇Dissolving

She was terrified of the primordial seawater, and it did have an effect on her; the possibility that she could've dissolved has got to give her nightmares. Dissolving in front of everyone when she was so close to saving them has got to be a way to go.

◇The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale kills her

Like the one above, she was so close to saving everyone and being free, but instead of the Oratrice only killing Focalors, it also kills Furina. Do the people of Fontaine still survive? Technically, everything could play out to where they do, Furina just wouldn't be entirely alone when she cries on her throne.

♡ Everyone lives and Furina has to watch them be happy, neither version of herself ever getting to live the quiet human life she wanted. Do the people of Fontaine care that she died? Do they remember her as a hero or a liar?

♡ Everyone dies and they blame Furina. They are returned to their oceanid state and they attack Furina. This one is clearly not thought out, lol, but why would you want everyone to be mad at Furina anyway

◇Time Loop

Furina gets stuck in a time loop. This one is Paimon's fault; she tells Furina about some of the light novels from Inazuma and the popular trope of getting stuck in a time loop, and Furina ends up having a nightmare about it. Okay, these could also just be a time loop story and not a nightmare, but for the sake of theme.

♡ She has a good life after everything that happens, lives to be old and frail and dies surrounded by love. She wakes up on the day she met Focalors. The time loop starts.

♡ She gets exposed as a fake god and suddenly she is back at the ceremony where she introduced herself as Fontaine's god. Every time things go awry in Focalors's plan, Furina gets reset to this point.

♡ Focalors's plan doesn't work, and everyone dies. Furina wakes up 100 years before the traveler arrives every time she doesn't save everyone.

[captiandirtnap]

I NEEDED to illustrate what it feels like when your attention meds kick in

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

snuggling in the sun...

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[kalmiaclown]

I passed oyt and was blessed with a vision...

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[greykolla-art]

Charlie: “I’m so glad my most villain-coded friend is at full power again! 🥰💕”

*throws this to you angst goblins like raw steak* ❤️

(No I will not do a part 2!❤️)

[otiksimr]

Ancient tree deer babysitting the grandkids

[pippynsworld]

It was a long day...

[unhappy-sometimes]

franky’s present pt 2

follow up to my last post about franky giving anya a bunch of glitter. the gift that keeps on giving ✨

then @buf309 made me aware of this wonderful toy which had me crying laughing

poor twilight.

[idliketobeatree]

i'm living the dream, in the dream, i'm buried alive two bed grave, one bath, car in the drive mirrored covered windows block the light feeding back reflection distorts life cut connection — jesca hoop

[lilislegacy]

hot take: people on here hold percy to WAY too high of a standard. they either refuse to accept he has a real flaw or they call him a terrible person anytime he’s not the epitome of loveliness

like… he’s an asshole sometimes. why can’t people see that? why can’t people accept that? we don’t have to justify everything he does. has he been an asshole to annabeth? yes. has he been an asshole to nico? yes. was he TRYING to be mean? NO. he was either upset or uninformed or focused on bigger things. does it explain it? yes. does it excuse it? no. but it doesn’t mean he’s a horrible person. he’s just a PERSON.

it’s the same with annabeth. yes she’s prideful and condescending sometimes. okay…? AND?? she’s still a kinder and braver person than most of us will ever be. and same with nico. he is an amazing person but he has also done some things that are absolutely not okay. you know why? because no one is perfect. it’s okay to accept that our favorite characters do bad stuff but are still good people.

THEY ARE 50% HUMAN. WHY CAN’T THEY BE HUMAN?? LET THEM BE HUMAN. ITS OKAY TO NOT BE PERFECT ALL THE TIME 😭😭

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[kaffkanya]

[unsteddie]

University AU

Bi-Sexual weirdo Eddie Munson approaches Robin in a gay bar. It's her first time and she's so excited. She's looking around all excited with hair she definitely cut herself, wearing a cool blazer that's she's decorated with chains and pins and stuff. And she just looks cool and fun. And listen he knows he's probably not her target demographic, but he sees her blush as he approaches.

The second she hears his voice, realizes he's not a woman, she loudly complains about being hit on by a man in a GAY bar. Prompting her friend who has been leaning against the bar getting them drinks to turn. Eddie's mid apology, because that's fair, when he sees him and just shyits right the fuck up.

Cool girl, sure whatever, this man is an angel. So he immediately switches to hitting on Steve, asks him to dance and Robin says "oh, Steves not-"

But Steve cuts her off with a quick "sure." And shoves the drinks in her hands. He leaves Robin with her mouth hanging open as he follows what is probably the prettiest person he's seen in real life to the dance floor.

(Robins fine, she uses Steve's drink to charm a very pretty girl who she dances with and has a great time that night.)

Steve doesn't even speed run his sexuality crisis, he sees it coming for him and is like 'nah, I'm fine actually. I just like pretty people and curly hair.' and the crisis pouts and moves on.

I'm thinking there's probably drama. Like Steve's all in, because he's a sweet romantic idiot. But Eddie panics and is like "you don't even know what you like in men, you can't just decide I'm it."

Which Steve totally can, but Eddie scares easy, he is the opposite of Tom Petty in this regard.

So they split up with the understanding Steves gonna date around a while and keep Eddies number. And like three months go by and Steve doesn't know if he's allowed to call yet because he hasn't managed to get past the date part to the sleeping with other people part because he doesn't like anyone as much as Eddie, but Eddie said he should try some stuff before commiting to the first man that asked him to dance.

Eddie is beating himself up because it's for sure too soon, like crazy too soon, but maybe he loves Steve? And he literally yelled at him to go sleep with other people?? Why did he do that??

I have a little scene in my head where Gareth see Steve in a club and calls Eddie like "dude, he's here, with a date. Like a really really hot date." And sitcom style shenanigans ensue with Eddie running interference on Steve's date long distance via Gareth.

Like they've been apart probably twice as long as they were kinda together and they're being so dumb about it.

[verflares]

new link design goes crazy