#now for the secret tags heheheh

[measlyfurball13]

Omnes Affectus Valetis

Summary: four Marines reflect on the paths they've chosen.

2445 words.

I.

There is a part of this Marine that understands what he is doing is wrong. 

A vague twinge, sometimes, beneath his chestplate. Times where the blood seeps into his boots. Something in a symbol glints the wrong way, and the fraction of his mind that it still evolved from an animal thinks to tremble before it. 

But that is before his friends grab his shoulderplates and pull him back to the dropship, jostling him against his brothers where they slam their helmets together. The impact, skull-to-skull, jolts his mind clear of any such worries. 

And when they return to the ship, there is revelry. The clinking of glasses, the throwing of food- when he takes his helmet off, someone shoves something into his mouth, juicy and savory and succulent. And he laughs, some of the juice spilling out of his mouth and onto his armor, but that’s alright. 

He walks further into the grand interior hall. Some of his fellow brothers from the mission have already doffed the parts of their armor that are easy to pry off, and if anyone needs help dozens of hands are willing to oblige. There’s musicians playing on a makeshift stage against the far wall- one of his brother’s ideas, constructed from spare materials from the previous campaign -and as they see the returning squad, the musicians stand with a cheer.

Played on hand-stringed bows and hand-carved horns, and on the one organ that’s still sort of working, thanks to some luck and a prayer, the music swells to a fast-paced swing. Couples push themselves from the table and begin to dance, the women far too small for his brothers’ arms yet they try anyway. One slips, finds her leg beneath the boot of her partner, and her shin shatters. She laughs. She’s alright, already swept off her feet by a brother, off to the medical wing. 

The Marine is tired from the mission and he sits down at the table. Someone hands him a mug and he drinks it. Sweet, metallic, with a lingering finish.

“How are you faring?” A voice asks to his left.

He turns to find an elder brother from another squadron and he replies. “Quite alright!” 

“Thirsty, I wager! Drink up, drink up, be glad that you’re alive.” The elder pushes the mug towards his chin with a smile. “But do know that you can tell us anything should you need.” 

“I appreciate it,” He takes another swig from his mug and grasps the elder’s shoulder, giving a little shake, “but with your concern, all is well.” 

“Good, good! Now go enjoy. There’s women, you know.” 

“I know, I’ve seen them.”

“Then go say hello!”

A brother walks by with his wife on his arm. She’s been broken many times, but the red lines of the repair work make her complexion even more fetching in the dim light. She’s laughing, probably at something her husband has said, as he leads her off the dance floor and disappears into the hallways beyond. 

“I think I’ll just enjoy the view for tonight.” The Marine replies to the elder. “It’s good to be home.” 

“Never forget what we fight for.” The elder concurs. He then stands and leers over to another plate laid just out of reach on the table and adds more to his plate.

The Marine finishes his mug before standing; he weaves between dancers and revelers to the edge of the ballroom, where some of his more quiet brothers are standing. They give him a nod, as they too understand. A brother breaks down crying at the center of the dance floor, his mind so overwhelmed with emotion that he must let it out. Immediately he is swarmed by comforting hands, and through the effort of the crowd he is passed off to the quieter end of the hall where he may recover. 

The Marine takes one last look upon the scene before departing the room. He is tired. The armorer is first, who makes quick work of the plating attached to him. An old injury of his acts up as the plating is removed, spilling from his side; the armorer deftly presses it back in and staples it together. 

“It’s a gift that keeps on giving.” The armorer says. “Rather. . . interdepartmental.” 

“A blessing from another chapter.” The Marine replies halfheartedly.

“Indeed.” 

And the armor is off; he is free to enter his quarters. He dims the lights, straightens his favorite bookshelf, and approaches the bathroom mirror. 

There’s something on his face he doesn't remember being there before. Red, throbbing, angry. He pokes and prods at it before his mental clarity zaps into his mind. This is the mark of those who saved him, the circled star, pointing in every direction that he may go if he so chooses. 

He falls against his bed in prayer, thanking the gods who took him from the Imperium and showed him what it was like to feel again. It was worth every price. 

II.

A lifetime ago, this Marine would be late for the ceremony. 

And as he rushes into the prayer hall, that same acute sense of shame radiates from him, spilling into the air like a thick smog, he’s sure of it. He knows there’s no punishment, but it was never the punishment that bothered him; only the perception of failure glinting in the eyes of every commander he looked up to.

But when it is his turn to kneel down in front of the statue of his god, he finds no eyes at all. Only a mouth, curved into a soft smile. A sweet air spills from its lips, cradling his face. He breathes it in. The sharp edges in his mind begin to dull. 

The part of him that still remembers looks over his shoulder. He’s the last to the altar, and his brothers are waiting on him to finish. But before he can stand, a brilliant shimmer erupts from the statue’s skin. 

Rest, it tells him. There is always time. 

He presses his face against the statue. It’s soft and cold, soothing the heat of shame from his face. 

“Sometimes I worry.” He whispers into the statue’s skin. “That I do not deserve this.” 

My gift is for everyone, the statue whispers back, no matter how long it takes to spread. 

“Thank you.”

Something gives way beneath the flesh, and baptism rains down onto his head, running into his eyes and mouth. When he rises again and turns to find his seat amongst the congregation, his brothers begin to cheer. He smiles at them. When he sits, the others put their hands on him. One starts to get a little ahead of himself and licks his fingers when he pulls away. No one chastises this one, only gives him a small chuckle for his impatience. 

And as the ceremony begins, the Marine’s world loses its edges. The sword of fear implanted in his mind by his creator lowers, and as he swells the sword fades into a pinprick. 

—

When the Marine wakes, he is back in his quarters. The calm fades. Small worries trickle in. Has he missed anything? A drill? An alarm, perhaps? 

He looks down only to find that his garments do not fit him anymore. 

Immediately he panics- he is going to fail inspection, he must be some sort of defect, a mutant, an impurity to be purged. There is no room for a brother not in tip-top shape; it is either to the medical wing to get fixed or else his geneseed must be extracted before it wastes a second longer intermixed with his pathetic DNA. . .

But then he remembers where he is. He sags forward as the adrenaline leaves him.

He looks down at his body. 

It’s. . . just a body, he realizes. And a body is a gift, one without obligation, if his growing sense of calm is to be believed. How it looks isn’t important. A low buzz fills him at the realization and a smile lightens his face. 

The Marine walks to the door of his quarters. It takes him longer than he is used to. His limbs are different, softer, bulkier. It’s as if he’s learning to walk again, in some distant memory of childhood. 

When he opens his door, outside is one of his brothers. 

“It is good to see you. How do you feel?” The brother asks. 

“I’m slower.” The Marine replies.

“That’s alright. That’s not important. How are you feeling?”

“I feel. . .” the Marine closes his eyes, “comfortable.” 

His brother wraps his arms around him. It’s a bit of a stretch, now, but that’s alright. The Marine hugs back. It’s only when their chestplates bump together that he realizes he’s still wearing his armor. 

Funny, the weight is gone. The aches of implant interfaces is no more. The armor feels like it is a second skin, not just something grafted onto him. Something distant in the back of his mind wonders if it was always supposed to feel this way, if something about him was simply broken from the start, but the more rational part of him prevails. 

This body was a gift. He will treasure it with everything he can. 

And his brother leads him to the sparring rooms, where those around him demonstrate how to make the best of his new form and share their own experiences to make him feel better. He trains as long as he needs, and when he feels ready, he is redeployed. 

There is a part of him that is still impatient, of course. He is still himself. But now he simply channels that impatience into an eagerness to spread the wonderful gift that his god has given unto the world, with no expectation of repayment.

III.

This Marine sits at his desk. He holds the letter in gloved hands- even on the verge of something so great, he would not dare stain it with his bare fingers. 

He grabs the letter opener, closes his eyes, and pictures the blade unsealing the letter’s seam with a precision no mortal hands could match. When he opens his eyes again, it is done, only a small wisp of blue energy trailing from the edge of the blade in response. 

Carefully, he pulls out the letter’s contents. 

It is a standard Imperial document, an I-800678, used across a hundred worlds. Every Departmento Processium office has millions of them, shoved on and behind every shelf, between cracks in the floor or used to stuff mattresses of the poor adepts who worked there. Unnumbered. Unsorted. 

It has taken this Marine one thousand, six hundred years and forty-four days to find this exact letter. 

He unfolds the paper. 

The name printed at the top is Beril Tantia Rebiko. 

He mouths the consonants and vowels, a preparation before he allows the name to pass from his lips. 

Beril Tantia Rebiko was born on 7/123/692/M39. She was born in the capital segment of the Hive World Moltova, and as of the issuing of this document, she worked in a factory that manufactured boots from corpse leather. 

The Marine closes his eyes and searches his mind until he can recall the scent; the stench of death as the door opened. A voice, telling him to look to the floor until she told him it was alright to look at her.

This form, the I-800678, was issued on 7/122/726/M39. 

Beril Tantia Rebiko was a single day shy of 33 years old.

Thirty-three. 

His own memory of being 33 is just as distant as the memory of her. Looking back to then is little different than looking back to when he was a child. So young. So blind. So foolish. 

. . . there was so much she would never have known, her life defined by the little box she worked to call home for the two of them. 

On the date this form was issued, she would never return home. On the date this form was issued, she would have seen the sky for the very first time, as she was marched to the spaceport. On the date this form was issued, she would be thrown upon that black ship to be consumed. 

Beril Tantia Rebiko. 

For every single year of his life until this day, he has only ever known her as “mother”. 

Something now flows within the Marine’s veins. Relief? Ecstasy? Sadness? All three roil about within him, and rather than trying to define it, he allows it to course freely. 

Carefully, he re-folds the paper and slides it back into the letter. He then encases the letter in a woven bundle of energy, before offering it to the gaping maw of the archives ahead of him. 

An unseen force grabs the bundle and pulls before slamming shut. The Marine closes his eyes and awaits judgment. 

The response that trickles into his mind is at first confusion, followed by intense pleasure. 

“Is the knowledge of her existence so rare?” He laughs. Then his smile fades. 

He is grateful that his god is pleased with the result of a journey he has been mocked for for a thousand years. But even without his god’s approval, satisfaction soars within him. 

Emboldened, he asks, “Is she still there? In the Warp?” 

Laughter trickles into his ears, and a thousand voices reply, “the only part of her that remains is within you.” 

“Good.” He whispers back. “May she never be the same.”

IV.

This Marine is free!

The sound of metal clanging on metal no longer makes him jolt!

The taste of blood and flesh no longer makes him gag!

If his purpose is to be a weapon, then why was he ever made to struggle with such things? It’s only a distant memory now, the time when he was so painfully weak. When he was wracked awake by night terrors and sung to sleep by fear. Where his superiors insisted that he rid himself of the same weakness that they themselves only hid!

Instead of pushing it down or having to overcome it or having to reason and question and twist himself into knots, it is now gone! 

The Marine cheers as he cleaves through the armor of his foe. Bones wrench from joints. Blood pours from the wound. All is a symphony.

There is nothing more to worry about. There is nothing more to fear. 

He can finally enjoy what he was so carefully crafted to do. 

And that’s better than anything the corpse-emperor ever did for him. 

So proudly, with the next swing of his chain-axe, he proclaims this harvest for his god- the only one who ever cared enough to fix him.  

[cherry-blossom-qf]

A mysterious masked apple-themed-warrior has appeared~🍏

(reuploaded cuz it was somehow marked as "mature")

[linabirb]

have to be insane about linagram 2 on main real quick but like. i think if you've seen my art before you know that i really like to have fun with everyone's pupil shapes and usually the shapes say something about the characters too so.

hehe...

[toherlover]

she’s 100% saving long live for closing night. we can all agree upon this, correct?

[cosmicstarlatte]

You ARE The Father! (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret during your relationship. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your demon baby daddy.

»Characters: Demon bros // -> [Part 2: Dateables] Now available!

»Tags: Female reader/MC, Unplanned pregnancy, Humor/fluff, Bulleted Style Fic

»Note: Sorry it's kind of long. Also I imagine the babies all heavily resemble their dads. 🥺♡ I might make a part two with Diavolo and Barbatos but they will be short stories. Well, maybe. Lol

Lucifer:

"That's not funny."

Didn't believe you because how could you keep that sort of secret for months from him

You sent him a photo of you holding a very unamused baby boy with black hair and red eyes

The Avatar of Pride has fainted. I repeat, he has fainted

Didn't pack or say anything to his brothers once he woke up, he just bolted out the house to find a magic seal to travel to the human realm

Quickly let Diavolo know why he canceled their meeting whilst on the way to you

He arrived disheveled, man was sweating lol

Anyway he immediately reached for his child and cradled him

His baby's horns and wings popped out!

Barely wanted to talk to you at first, you wounded his pride...Did you think him unfit? Did you think he wouldn't accept?

He would've been there for you no matter what, it pained him that you went through everything alone

Promised to be there from now on

He hugged you and the baby "...I love you two. ♡ Come live with me. You two won't ever be in need."

Dia and Barb visited shortly to see Luci's baby!

His baby slapped everyone in the face at some point

Mammon:

"Ha! That's a good one! I always loved ya sense of humor!"

Really thought it was a joke

You decided to surprise him in person instead

You got permission from Dia to visit

You had only told Lucifer ahead of time about the surprise visit but not why

When you knocked on the door holding the white-haired baby girl Lucifer had to do a double take

"Is this..."

He smiled and excitedly held her for a minute before returning her

"Excuse me" Lucifer said as he closed the door

"MAMMOOOOOOOOON!!!"

yeah the baby started crying

You could hear the loud commotion inside

The door swung open and Mammon stared in shock along with the rest of the family behind him

"YA WERENT JOKING!? GUYS...GUYS!! I'M A DAD!!"

He cuddled his baby girl and gave her so many kisses

You guessed it, the baby sprouted horns and wings after being held by him

Was upset at himself for thinking you were joking

He demanded you move in right away

"Nothin' will break this family. I got ya both! Daddy will take care of y'all! "♡

His baby girl managed to grab his wallet and wouldn't let go

Levi:

"As if..."

Was skeptical...him? A dad? He always thought Mammon or Asmo would be first

He didn't know anything about being a dad but he was getting more excited the more he thought about it

You wouldn't lie to him about that right? RIGHT?

But why didn't you tell him sooner!? He could've been there for support like you always supported him!!

He texted you saying he would be visiting soon

He made a quick phone call to Dia for help getting to the human world

"Yeah let's not tell Lucifer yet heheheh"

He hurriedly grabbed a few figures and collectibles to go pawn off...kids are expensive!

After selling some things he bought some baby stuff and a gift for you...the mother of his child!!

When he finally made it to the human world he cried when he held his own purple-haired baby boy

The baby cried too lmao

The baby shifted into demon form & Levi wailed even more at his beautiful copy+paste baby

Both stopped crying when you played some anime on the tv

"I-I have a ring for you...w-will you marry me? I'll be the best husband and dad I can be!" ♡

He was planning on asking anyway; this just sped things up

He wasn't sure but he thinks his kid was giving him the stink eye when he was taking too much time with you...jealousy!?

Satan:

"You're telling me this now?"

Yeah he was angry

He had a hard time believing it but he knew you wouldn't lie about something like that

After the call, he grew excited and couldn't wait to visit

Told Lucifer what was going on ASAP and he let him go to you

He tried to read as much as he could from parenting books while on the way to you

He brought some gifts and offered to let you nap while he bonded with his daughter

Yeah she shifted into demon form after being held by him

He cooed at her, brushing her blonde hair lightly, remembering his own birth

"Daddy might've been an accident, but you're definitely not. Just a beautiful surprise. ♡"

He would do anything you asked of him, he just wanted to take care of his own little family

"Hey listen to me...I won't ever let you two down. I swear it.♡"

His daughter angrily yanked the new kitty plushie from his hands and smacked him before giggling

Asmo:

"Ahaha...riiight. That's not the first time someone's tried that on me! And triplets!? "

He loved you but that was a weird joke to pull so many months later

Seriously, triplets? You had to be joking!

You were a little hurt but you kind of understood his reaction

Either way you wanted Asmo to meet them and decided to do a surprise visit

You contacted Dia for help and Barb escorted you safely to the Devildom (it was hard moving around with 3 babies!)

You nervously waited with your babies at Dia's castle while they summoned Asmo first before the other brothers

"Lord Diavolo, I'm he-" you heard Asmo gasp

He froze and took in what was in front of him

"You weren't joking!?"

He sobbed and cried out apologies to you, as he tried to figure out how he could pick them all up (sorry only two at a time!)

You handed him the two girls and watched as they shifted into demon form in his arms

Mini Asmos!

He excitedly talked about all the different outfits you could all wear and match as a family

You took one of the baby girls and handed him the boy and watched as he too shifted

"You're my family! My big beautiful family! Papa will make you all proud! I'll work SO hard!♡"

The other brothers happily joined the gathering a few minutes later

Every time someone picked up one of the babies, they were happy and friendly!

Beel:

"Huh? What? What do you mean? ... I'M COMING."

Mixed emotions: Anger for not telling him. Excited that you had his child. Sad that he wasn't there to support you on the journey. Happy overall for his new family.

He wasted no time after you told him, he called on Lucifer to let him go to the human world. His brothers caught wind and wanted to go too.

Teared up when he saw you standing and holding his baby boy, he gave a big soft family hug

Was surprised and excited when his baby shifted into demon form when he held him

It was a mini him!

He was absolutely in love with his new family

"I will give you both everything. No matter what. I will take care of you two, always.♡"

Wouldn't stop doting on you two

Growled when Belphie wanted a turn to hold his baby...he might've been a little too protective

But everyone did get a turn eventually

His baby bit/nibbled everyone at some point

Belphie:

"Twins!? Mine!? When!? You should've said something!"

Was upset you kept it from him. Scared because what if he fails you and them? But was happy to have his own little family

As soon as he hung up, he quickly called Lucifer for help and had Beel accompany to the human world

Freaked out because what do babies need? What did you need? He hurriedly bought ready made baby gift baskets hoping it would help somewhat

Each step towards your place was nerve wracking and exhilarating

Having Beel there soothed him a little so he was thankful

Belphie thought you looked so beautiful standing there holding his twins in little cow print onesies

He nervously held both and teared up when they shifted and they looked so much like him

The baby boy started crying and he freaked out

"Yeah he cries a lot. The girl however is very quiet and sleeps easily."

Belphie hummed a lullaby and soothed his son who rested happily on him.

"This is better than any dream.I will do my best to make you and them proud.That's a promise.♡"

Beel patted his back letting him know he had him and the others

His babies seemed to like cuddling a lot. They really liked holding fingers tightly.

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure︱Waffle House︱Coconut

*Super long* Authors Note/Ramblings: Moved those notes to my AO3 journal lol

[gravehags]

crimson headache, aching blush

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: panty stealing, panty sniffing, pillow humping, first date, champagne consumption, dry humping, grinding, possessiveness, copia being a little sex freak as per usual, tenderness as per usual

Words: 5,758

Summary: When he asks you on your first real date with him, this is not the outcome you anticipated.

a/n: hehehehe hohohoho we're almost there folks

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

He shouldn’t have done this.

That’s the thought running rampant on repeat in his mind as he lays in his bed, staring at the illicit goods in his hand. He’s filled with shame at committing such a violation of your privacy and yet…he turns the piece of black mesh over in his grip, relishing the way the fabric feels sliding against his bare knuckles. He heaves a sigh - he’s dragging this out because he’s scared what will come to pass once he does what he’s longed to do all afternoon. It’s been balled up in his pocket all day, you completely unaware beside him on the couch and in the dining hall as he surreptitiously fingered it. 

It was an impulse theft from when you were in the bathroom post-nap fixing your hair and he was left to his own devices in your bedroom. He saw the hamper tucked away in a corner and he swore that in that moment his heart stopped. He could hear you humming something familiar as he skittered over to the basket, reaching a hand in to flick through your dirty laundry. Under a t-shirt he found it. His prize. His breath caught in his throat and somewhere in the back of his mind he realized you were softly singing “He Is” in the other room. He snatched it up in a moment of impulse and almost doubled over in shame but before he allowed himself to fully process the feeling and put your underwear back, he shoved it deep into his pocket. You emerged a moment later, smiling and ignorant of his crime, and grabbed him by the hand to tug him towards the couch. There you spent the rest of the afternoon curled into his side watching paranormal shows while his eyes stared forward but his mind was chaotic. He’s more ashamed of the way he ignored you for the rest of the evening, even as the two of you sat across from one another at your table in the dining hall. You had finally stopped trying to engage with him but by then the damage was done. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of you as you kissed his cheek with a quiet “goodnight” before leaving him standing there with only the static of his busy mind for company. By the time he called out your name in the empty cloister you were long gone and guilt sat heavy in his stomach. He shuffled back to his rooms and disrobed mechanically. When he saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror he jumped - he was so distracted by his little secret he didn’t even bother to reapply his paints before he went to dinner with you. He turned off the faucet with a sigh and slumped out of the bathroom to plug his phone in. Climbed into bed and now here he is. 

He wants to text you, to apologize for his horrible, neglectful behavior but it feels even more shameful when he’s holding a very private part of you captive without your knowledge. He takes a deep breath - in, out, in, out, in - then raises his fist to his face. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut as he curls onto his side, the tantalizing scrap of fabric with your scent pressed against his nose. You smell…cazzo, he doesn’t know how to properly describe it in this state…earthy and feminine and hypnotic. Dirty. His cock throbs against his sleep pants, aching for contact. Normally he’d take himself in hand and get the job done but he knows it’s not going to be enough. Sitting up he reaches behind himself to grab a pillow and swings his leg over to straddle it. It’s too late to strip himself fully so instead he yanks down his sleep pants until his cock springs forward, bobbing in front of him with pre smeared down the shaft.

“Amata mia,” he groans as he spreads his thighs and lowers himself. He brings your smell back to his nose and his hips jolt forward, sliding across the cushion and leaving a damp drag mark on the red pillowcase. As he begins to rut against it he falls forward and plants a fist into the mattress to steady himself. He imagines it’s you beneath him, your pliant flesh and your tight wetness he’s fucking into. The thought makes his mouth hang open, drool pooling in his jaw and threatening to spill over onto his bed.

“Nnngh bellezza mia,” he grunts, hips picking up a frantic pace as he humps desperately into the pillow, “So soft a-and willing for me. How you t-tease your Cardinal. Soon I’ll h-have you. I’ll–ah–ruin you, amore mio. P-piccola vergine mia.”

The bed creaks beneath him from the force of his thrusts, his fist flying from the mattress to grip the headboard. He’s close and his rhythm is becoming sloppy as the strings of his self control are slowly cut away. He can almost hear your voice speaking to him so sweetly - yes Copia, please, fuck, don’t stop - and for a final time he raises the gusset of your underwear to his nose as he hears you say it–

I love you. 

He cums with a hoarse moan, painting the pillowcase and mattress with ropes of his seed, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. His hips don’t still afterwards, continuing to rock against the cushion desperate to wring out the last dregs of his orgasm. By the time he forces himself to stop, tears are dropping onto the pillow to mix with his mess and he sniffles miserably in the silent room. You fool, his brain hisses, risking everything to get yourself off. She must hate you now - must be sitting in her room wondering why she ever wasted a moment of her time and energy on you. The last part makes him sob aloud, doubling over on himself before angrily tearing the pillow out from under him and flinging it to the rug. He doesn’t bother to clean up his mess, instead choosing to curl into a fetal position. His hand twitches with the desire to grab his phone and call you, text you, anything to explain himself but instead he heaves a shuddering sigh.

Why bother, he thinks to himself, messily wiping his snot with the back of his hand, you deserve better anyway.

—

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed in your pajamas with your phone in your hand, cursor in the text box flashing up at you tauntingly. You could settle this in a matter of seconds if you really wanted to. But do you want to? Do you really want to know about how he’s changed his mind about you, how he regrets ever bending to your annoying little advances? The thought makes your gut roil with nausea and you blindly set your phone back on your nightstand and flop backyards onto the duvet, running through everything you said to him today. He was fine up until…up until after your nap. After he had time to ruminate on your confession of love. Numbly you sit back up and finagle yourself under the covers, feeling embarrassed, hurt, and…angry? You’ve never been angry at Copia, never thought you could be but the blank look on his face as he sat in silence for the entirety of your meal that night while you chattered away makes something raw burn in your belly. Every moment between the two of you since last night has happened at your insistence. Every conversation, every confession, every action. What if this was just a game to him? What if you were just a conquest he could lord above Terzo, finally succeeding where the Papa had failed? What if Terzo–

Stop.

Fucking stop.

You reach behind you and bend the edges of your pillow up against your ears in an attempt to muffle the din in your brain. Copia would never. He would never purposely hurt you. You think of the raw expression on his bare face as you told him of your love, the tenderness in his voice when he spoke of his. Shame floods you, sick to your stomach that you could ever think such a thing of your beloved. That’s not the man you’ve gotten to know over almost an entire year. Something might have been bothering him tonight but it wasn’t you. You turn over and grab your phone, opening your texts.

Hey - you seemed distant tonight, is everything okay? Love you

You set the phone down and hesitate before reaching for the prescription bottle. Might as well, not going to fall asleep like this. Swallowing the pill with the room temperature water on your nightstand you look hopefully at your phone, willing it to light up. When it stays dark, you inhale a deep sigh before falling back into your pillows. There’s a smoky smell lingering on them, warm and animalic, and you realize it’s him. You drag the pillow he slept on today towards you and breathe in, relishing the scent of his cologne and his hair pomade. It makes your heart so full and you can’t bring yourself to pull away so you curl yourself into it, letting the rise and fall of your chest lull you to sleep.

You have strange dreams where you’re dancing with a black goat with mismatched eyes.

You do not remember them upon waking.

—

When Copia wakes up at a miserable hour he feels like absolute dogshit. He abandoned his remaining pillow some time in the night and now finds himself curled on his side on the mattress, dick out with a pounding headache. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but judging from the lingering damp stains on his sheets he most certainly cried until he passed out. 

“Cazzo,” he groans, putting his palms to his face and rubbing it roughly. He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, angling his hips to finally tuck himself away and restore even a small bit of his dignity. He looks at the stained pillow on the floor and his headache worsens.

“Fottuto idiota,” he growls, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s about to get up and throw his exhausted body into the shower when he spies his phone out of the corner of his eye. He hesitates for a moment before reaching for it. When he sees a notification on his lockscreen - from you - his heart rockets into his throat. Hands shaking he opens his messages, nauseous at what he might see.

Hey - you seemed distant tonight, is everything okay? Love you

Love you. Love you. She still loves you.

He hops out of bed, overjoyed and types out, then deletes at least a dozen different messages to you. When none of them prove satisfactory he throws his phone down on the bed and stumbles over to his closet. He said he was going to woo you, damn it all, and he intends to follow through. He selects a freshly laundered cassock - red, he knows it’s your favorite - and tosses it on the bed. His mind is abuzz with all the tasks he needs to accomplish but first - a nice long, scalding hot shower.

—

You’re tucked away in your bed - your warm, soft, wonderful bed - when you hear a noise somewhere in the back of your consciousness. One of your eyes cracks open, views the blurry surroundings, and immediately slides closed again.

Then you hear it again. It’s louder. More insistent.

You groan and roll onto your back, opening both eyes against your will to stare at the beams above you. You’re about to roll back over when you hear it again and realize it’s knocking. At your door. With furrowed brows you turn over to squint at your bedside clock - now who the fuck–

You shoot up so fast it makes you dizzy and fling the covers back, your heart pounding. It has to be him right? You’re making your way to the door, bedhead be damned, and you swear if you open it and Terzo’s idiotic face is on the other side you’re going to deck him. By the time you make it to your destination, the person on the other side begins knocking sharply again but you swing the door open midway through their progress. 

It’s him, like you knew it would be.

And he looks magnificent.

He’s in his red cassock, matching biretta perched neatly on his still damp hair and holding one hand behind his back. When he sees you, his shoulders straighten and he bows.

“Amata mia, please, please forgive me for my behavior last night. I–”

You don’t even give him a chance to finish his explanation, throwing your arms around him and pulling him close.

“It’s okay,” you say, voice muffled by the wool of his pellegrina.

“Amore, no it’s not. I was so caught up in my own head that I-I didn’t treat you like you deserve. I am a poor excuse for a paramour, eh? Not even the first full day and I’ve already fucked it up.”

“I can’t lie, I was a wreck last night,” you confess as you pull away, rubbing your eyes, “your brain isn’t the only one too full. I had almost convinced myself of some really horrible shit.”

His smile drops and his brows knit together as he cups your cheek gently.

“I’m so sorry, dolcezza. Next time I’ll tell you when I’m preoccupied, but know that my love for you will never be the source of my grief.”

You lean up and peck him on the lips before gesturing behind him.

“What’s this?”

“Ah,” Copia brings his arm forward and produces a bouquet of beautifully vivid orange roses tied up with twine, “for my amore.”

“Copia!” you gasp, accepting the blooms from him, “these are my favorite how did you…?”

“Primo told me,” he says with a smile, following you into your apartment as you pad over to the kitchen, “said he’d been growing them in his greenhouse ‘just in case’ we uh…” He trails off, blushing as you pull a vase out of a cabinet.

“I think the Papas might have been looking forward to us getting together more than we did at this point,” you laugh, filling the glass with water and placing the roses inside. The fragrance coming off them is heady and lovely. You put your hands on your hips and give Copia a wide smile.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure? Or was this gorgeous display,” you gesture at his neatly pressed cassock and the flowers, “just your way of saying sorry? Wouldn’t mind you slipping up a little more often if these are the rewards I receive.”

His brows furrow and he glances at the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, moving over to him and placing your hands on his biceps, “I’m sorry, you know me and my stupid jokes. You’re good. We’re good.”

He raises his downcast eyes to look at you and you want to melt into a puddle at the pure adoration you see there. Like a Satanic puppy dog with heterochromia, a slight build and a nice ass. His little smile when he finally speaks makes you smile.

“I, eh, did have another reason to see you so early in the morning, cara,” he reaches up with a gloved hand and gently tames your flyaways, “I wanted to ask you on a…a date.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and lean forward, placing your chin on his chest.

“Mmm what did you have in mind, Cardinal?”

Not missing a beat his crows feet scrunch and he cradles your head in his hands, using his thumbs to brush at your temples.

“Dinner - in the village? I know a place.”

“Oooh…a night out on the town…”

He snorts, “I don’t think that sleepy little hamlet even counts as a town but it’s the closest we’ve got.”

“Hmm…an excuse to get dressed up and show you off? How could I refuse?”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs at your statement while you grin up at him.

“What time do you want me?”

The phrase comes out of your mouth so casually, you forget its double meaning until you see him swallow thickly and flush.

“H-how about 7? On Friday?”

“On New Years’ Eve?” you shrug, “Sure, and maybe you can come over afterwards to watch the ball drop or whatever. I’ve got another bottle of that chianti you like. Or maybe I’ll hunt down a bottle of champagne. I’ve never had anyone to kiss at midnight before.”

His eyes go a bit glassy and he looks over your shoulder as if considering something. Finally he nods to himself and meets your gaze once more.

“Sì, sì, that would be lovely.”

“It’s a date,” you say, unwinding your arms from around his body and scrunching your nose at him.

“I, uh…have some things to attend to today. I’ll text you later, sì?”

You shrug, secretly appreciative of the fact that he’s letting you return to your (now undoubtedly cold) bed. 

“Mmhmm. Thank you for the flowers, my love. They’re perfect. And…if you want to talk about what was bothering you, you know I’m always here.”

He blanches and you look at him curiously before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“G-grazie, amata. I will, eh, keep that in mind.”

Turning on his heel he strides to the door and you follow him, watching as he departs. A few steps down the hall, he turns and gives you a weird little wave before pausing and continuing back down his path. You snort and shut the door with a sigh, looking over at the flowers he brought you. And to think last night you were convinced he hated you. Making a noise of contentment and yawning wide, you shuffle back to bed.

—

Standing in the entry hall, he fusses with his cuffs and straightens his suit jacket. It’s…tighter than what he’s accustomed to. Particularly in the lower half. He growls as he reaches down to adjust himself, cursing Terzo and Terzo’s tailor. You look good, fratello! It really highlights your attributes, huh? Idiota. He cuts a svelte figure in the snug black fabric, true, but all he really cares about is that you will like it. Every once in a while a sibling passes by and stares at him. You’re not late by any means but still he taps his foot impatiently against the marble, filled with nervous energy. When he reaches up to smooth his mustache he hears it - a thump and a soft “fuck!” coming from nearby. He would know that foul mouth anywhere and he straightens his posture and places his hands behind his back. 

He’s not ready for what he sees when you round the corner.

You’re swathed in rich, burgundy velvet, the fabric clinging to your every dip and curve. The straps are thin and the hemline is short - tantalizingly short, he can see quite a good amount of your thigh tattoo. Gold stilettos are on your feet - he suspects the cause of the swearing earlier - and your hair is soft and loose. He knows he looks like a fucking fool, mouth hanging open as you approach but how could he look any other way when you stand before him looking like that. He doesn’t notice the way your eyes widen at his outfit, gaze lingering on his thighs and between his legs. As you step closer he sees the light glinting off his Yule gift, resting prettily on your clavicle. The sight makes him hungry.

“Copia, wow,” you breathe, giving him another slow once-over, “damn you look good.”

He’s jolted from the string of filth running through his mind by your assessment.

“Me? Dolcezza, you. You look…”

He knows the word he wants to use as his hands rest on your hips and before he can think better of it, it comes out.

“Delicious.”

The look on your face is well worth the bold step. Your painted lips part, eyes flicking over his features as he rubs circles with his gloved thumbs into your sides. You let out a breathy little laugh, placing your palms flat on his pectorals.

“Take me to dinner?” you ask, the lights in the hall glinting off your lip gloss. He nods.

“Eh…yes. Gladly. Shall we?”

He relinquishes his grip on you and steps back, offering you an arm which you take with a smile. 

“Won’t you be cold, amore?” he asks, stopping mid stride. You grin and grab his arm, wrapping it around your waist nice and snug.

“When I’ve got you to keep me warm? Perish the thought.”

How he longs to feel the softness of your dress under his bare fingertips, and the pliant flesh underneath. For now he settles for holding you fast against him as the two of you exit the front doors and head to his ride. He rarely takes her out these days - too many responsibilities at the abbey - but he always has a ghoul make sure she’s in pristine condition when he can’t get to her. She’s in one of the garages and he motions for you to wait at the steps so you don’t have to make the treacherous walk in heels through gravel. 

“Eh, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he says before jogging off, fishing the keys out of the clever little pocket Terzo’s tailor sewed into the jacket. Unlocking the driver side door he slides in, praying to Satan she starts. She does, and she still purrs like a dream much to his satisfaction. Carefully, he pulls out and around to the driveway where you are waiting with a grin on your face. When he reaches your spot he puts the car in park and hustles out of his side over to the passenger door.

“Copia,” you say, giving both him and the car the once-over, “you continue to surprise me every day. A classic car?”

He shrugs, blushing as he opens the door for you and places his hand on the small of your back to usher you inside. When you’re seated and buckled he returns to the driver side and slides in next to you.

“Tell me about her,” you murmur, running your hands over the upholstery as he pulls out of the front gates.

“She’s eh, a 1968 Buick LeSabre,” he begins, heading down the dark road. It’s starting to drizzle.

“I don’t know shit about cars,” you say, smiling sheepishly at him, “but I love a good classic car. They have so much more character. Way sexier. I mean, who is imagining getting railed in the back of a Corolla?”

That makes him almost swerve off the road.

“You…you think about…”

“Well I do now,” there’s a slyness in your voice that makes his pants tighten and he’s thankful for the darkness masking him. You’ve got your arm resting on the back of the seat, fluttering your eyelashes at him. Oh, how he’d love to pull off the road and have you in the backseat. Make a mess of the leather and fog up the windows, your legs on his shoulders. His window starts to become cloudy and he realizes he’s mouthbreathing and you’re watching him very carefully. He needs to change the subject fast, or this date is going to be over before it even officially starts.

“H-have you been into the village much?”

You’ve stopped looking at him and turn your body to stare out the windshield, but a smile still lingers on your lips.

“Honestly? Only once and that was just to wander around. It’s so easy to rely on the abbey to provide everything, you kind of forget the outside world exists at all. Going home to see my parents was such a culture shock after being here so long. Does the outside feel…y’know…weird for you?”

He’s immensely glad you’ve diverted the conversation to something less stressful and he makes a little thoughtful noise.

“It did when I was younger, especially before I left Roma. As I traveled more, I got used to the stares my vestments would get. Most people just assumed I was Catholic. But…I never really fit in at the abbeys I was at, either. Too odd to really fit in in either world.”

He chides himself at the sadness in his voice - he would never regret being vulnerable with you but he would be lying if he said the thought of his life still didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth. You stay quiet, pensive, as the car enters the main street and pulls into a spot outside the restaurant. He shuts off the engine with a sigh, slapping his thighs. You’re looking at him with an expression he can’t quite read, and you nod minutely to yourself before unbuckling and getting out. He follows suit, jogging around the car to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders before opening the restaurant door.

–

Your date goes wonderfully: the food, delicious and the company even moreso. Copia’s friendliness with the owner, a woman in her seventies with a dyed bouffant, ensures that neither of you go hungry nor thirsty that night. By the time you finish your bruschetta, your risotto, your tiramisu, and several glasses of wine not only are you content, you’re practically buzzing. You’re not drunk - nowhere near it - simply just happy to be in this moment with the man you adore. Your boyfriend. Is he your boyfriend? It somehow feels too juvenile a term for the two of you. Eh, whatever. You’ll take it. You’re torn from your thoughts by a chuckling Copia, sipping at the dregs of his affogato.

“What? What?”

He shakes his head with a smile.

“Nothing, cara, nothing. You, eh, ready to go?”

You nod and slide your chair back, stretching, deeply looking forward to getting back to your quarters and taking these damn heels off. Lucia comes by for one last hug before the two of you walk out the door and Copia ushers you to the car. Fat drops begin to splatter on the windshield as you wait for your love to take you home. When he gets into the car you slide to the center seat to nestle into him as he pulls away and down the long road to the abbey. The two of you are quiet during the drive back, his arm wrapped around you as your heavy eyelids droop and the rain hammers steadily on the roof. He pulls around and stops at the front steps.

“Your…your heels?”

You smile and place a swift kiss on his cheek before exiting the vehicle and rushing to the dry entryway. He’s not terribly long behind you and the two of you hurry into the warmth. He holds your hand as you make the journey up to your rooms and when you open the door you sigh dramatically.

“Make yourself at home,” you murmur to him as he shuts the door. You’re currently preoccupied with removing your shoes and tossing them in a corner, to be dealt with tomorrow. He settles on the couch as you remove your earrings.

“You can put on Dick Clark, or whatever,” you throw over your shoulder as you pad over to the fridge and pull a bottle out, “I got champagne - well Terzo got us champagne technically - you interested?”

“Sì, sì,” he says with an enthusiastic nod, flipping through channels, “you say…Terzo gave it to you?”

“Yeah,” you reach in the cabinet for your flutes, “came by the other day with it, apparently it’s good stuff. I’ll drink the swill you get at the corner liquor store but I thought it was nice of him.”

“Hmm, yes. Nice.” Copia says, eyebrows pulled together. You step over to the couch and hand him his glass, clinking it with yours before settling in next to him with your legs tucked to the side.

If the wine at dinner didn’t go to your head, the champagne certainly does. The two of you have polished off the bottle - and just opened another, of the swill variety - and are laughing into one another on the couch.

“You did not do that to Nihil when you were a kid,” you gasp. Copia grins wide at you and nods, making you laugh all over again.

“It’s what the old man deserved,” he says simply, polishing off his glass.

“Listen, I don’t disagree with you but taking safety scissors to his hair…Christ, no wonder he’s always bitching at you.”

Your laughter slowly dies as you nuzzle into his shoulder, the scent of his cologne making you even more tipsy. He’s got his nose brushing against your hair and you wonder if he likes what he smells too. 

“This is nice,” you murmur, as you lean up to place a slow kiss to his jaw. Your hand is resting on his chest and you feel his noise of agreement rumble through him. His hand comes up to cradle your head as you kiss your way to his lips. When you reach your destination he groans as you slip your tongue against his. You want this man so very badly, more than you ever have before. When you pull away briefly he looks befuddled as you stand up and look down at him. The way he gazes up at you as your fingers dance along his freckled cheekbone makes you feel far more tipsy than the champagne ever could. Without a word you kneel on one side of his leg and pull your other leg over to straddle him. His breathing is fast and rough as you scoot your hips so the two of you are flush.

“Dolcezza,” he finally breathes, “you…we shouldn’t…”

“But I want to,” you murmur against his lips, “I’ll wait. But let me have this. Please, Copia.”

There’s a slight whine to your voice in your pleading and you feel his cock twitch against you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you flex your hips experimentally. The catch of your underwear on your clit with the movement pushes you to repeat it, over and over. Copia growls, low, before sliding his gloved hands up your bare thighs, rucking your dress over your hips.

“Go on, cara,” he grits out, as if possessed “use me. Soak through these–” his hands toy with the waistband of your red lace underwear, “--and get your sweet smell all over me. Please. Please.”

His words knock the breath from your lungs as you grind against him. You don’t even have your hand on him but you can feel that he’s big and the curve of him nudges your clit so beautifully. You’re biting your lip as you ride him, his large hands pulling and pushing your body.

“C-Copia,” you whimper, and he bucks up against you, “feel so good. Fuck I–”

You can’t even get the words out before one of his hands grabs the back of your head and pulls you down. You’re panting into each other’s mouths even as you lick and suck and rut your hips. When you finally have to pull away for breath, Copia keeps his hand at the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.

“I am going to ruin you, amata,” he grunts, thrusting sharply against you in time with each roll of your hips, “you have n-no idea. I will hold you down and take and b-bring you such pleasure no one else will ever sate you. Sei il mio tutto.”

You feel a gush of slick come out of you at his words, your pace picking up.

“Please, Copia,” you whine, “please I need it, need you, I-I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He’s gripping your thighs with greater force now, hard enough you know he’s going to leave bruises and the thought makes you even wetter.

“Bellezza mia,” he moans as your hips move frantically against him, your eyes rolling back at the way his cock bumps your swollen clit, “anima mia, you have no–ah–no idea what you do to me. Ragazza perfetta–ragazza amata–”

Your head tilts back as you breathlessly chant - right there, right there, yes, yes, don’t stop - and he ruts up against you, his thrusts erratic. When you cum you moan long and loud - far more wanton than any sound you’ve ever coaxed out of yourself while on your own - and you feel the two scraps of fabric separating you become drenched. He’s not far behind and with a hoarse shout his cock kicks against you and the warmth of his seed soaks his trousers. You’re both trembling as you brush noses with him and press your forehead against his. Muffled cheering comes from the TV behind you, breaking your bubble, and you move to look but he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and softly brushes his lips against yours. It’s achingly tender and when the two of you slowly part he blinks up at you. You swear his white eye is glowing.

“Happy New Year,” you murmur, your arms still slung around his neck. 

“Happy New Year, amore mio,” he breathes.

You could rest in his lap like this forever, were it not clear to you that he must be incredibly uncomfortable - both with the weight and the mess in his pants. When you scoot back and place your feet on the floor to stand, your knees nearly give out.

“I’ll um…” you begin, distracted by the way his gloved fingers toy with the hem of your dress, “d-do you want to stay? Not…not to…just to sleep.”

You expect him to recoil, to anxiously but gently reject you as he has in the past.

“Sì…yes. I would like that. I should…go shower…change…”

“Of course, me too,” you nod, giving him space to move. You’re overjoyed he’s agreed and smile at him warmly as he raises himself from the couch. He cups your cheek with his palm and drags his thumb along the skin.

“Some champagne, huh?” he says with a wry grin, making you snort.

“Powerful stuff,” you agree. Slowly, gently he closes the distance between you for another painfully tender kiss.

“I’ll be back, sì?” he tells you before placing another soft kiss on your forehead. You nod and reluctantly let him pull away, watching him walk towards the door and open it. He gives you one last smile before shutting it behind him.

This time, your knees really do give out.

[shadowy-suitcase-herring-neck]

FG Dreamtale au

Fg stands for Forrest goblin which is the Twins Nickname in this AU

the twins have skull masks they made for fun. also growing up the first few years they were surrounded by animals and being little kids they tried to copy them. Dream has a Deer and Nightmare has a Bear. they found these skulls lying around. they like decorating them. The twins also cant speak any language at first. they communicate through a mental bond. and make other noises they observed from the different Animals they enjoyed watching.

There are two Fundamental differences in this au 1 The Twins are More Feral which i think is more realistic ig since they were made by a tree. 2 is that the villagers attitudes towards the twins is much different as well.

The Villagers in this au are a group of Monsters and a few humans running from a tyrant King. they had been traveling for a long time and came to a valley a little ways away from the tree if feelings. The Villagers are unaware of the tree when they first settle. Though the valley is plentiful and there's a lot of food, many of the plants and animals are different so they are unsure what is good to eat and are struggling to find food.

The twins who had been observing the villagers from secret decide to help them. They lead a few villagers in a roundabout way to a few streams and berry patches. They also gather other bits of food they find, Nightmare finds Berries, Nuts, and Roots while Dream catches fish bear style (ie he uses his mouth) Dream learned to do this by watching bears.

Because of the twins activities the villagers start saying there are forest goblins in a joking semi serious way.

the First real interaction between the Villagers, Dream, and Nightmare was actually because of some of the village children. A group of about 3 children where playing or attempting to play tag. The Problem was they didn't think they had enough players. Enter the twins who had been watching from a nearby tree. Dream and Nightmare had decided it wouldn't hurt to play with the other children as they could kinda figure out what they where doing.

The Village children where a little hesitant at first but quickly became friends with the twins. The Now group of 5 Children happily played together for hours, the twins showed off their animal skull masks and the Village children showed The twins their own clothes and a few toys they had. though they couldn't exactly understand each other they made it work

I made this bc i wanted a wholesome dreamtale au :) i am very happy with this though. I'm planning other things which will show more of this au's story. HEHEHEHE I love this au sm

also the twins eventually become like the entire villages children. Like community childs. everybody kinda helps parent

have this little doodle too

feral childs

[teddybeartoji]

HEHEHEHE MHM !! In our world Toji is a secret big bratty crybaby who rolls his eyes and scoffs when you call him a good boy as if his dick didn’t twitch LOL

YEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!

he tries to act all tough and shit bc you're so right... it twitches the second you say it and he just flushesss like he gets the prettiest blush on his cheeks and in the tips of his ears and he looks away but🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 you just climb onto his lap and kiss him silly, whispering and teasing him more and more bc now you can FEEL him getting harder and it's sooooofucking hotttt PLSSS INEED HIMMM ELLEEE WE NEED TO TAG TEAM HIM TOOO PLSSS TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK YK???!!

[plumadot]

YOU

i hope you saw my ramblings in the tags of the scar post i am

aofawohgoiwahgoi;wahgioewhao;igwhao;hgwao;

you have successfully captured me, i am trapped now

my poor boy scar

your art is gorgeous and your storytelling is amazing and i am in awe of the world you've created

thank you :]

H-HEHEHEHE,,,, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

thank you thank you thank you thank you,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

and and and about what you said i have been thinking that the secret keeper may be a fragment of the watchers? but i'm not sure about that yet hehe,,,

i like the idea of a character justifying not telling anyone about their problems by reasoning that technically they don't have a problem if they can't remember it kfjdgkjfd he'd rather be occupied with grian's watchers issues. or scott and jimmy's insane quest. that way he can focus on the now instead of the person he might have been before

he's definitely sweet for helping out others like that but it also helps him stay sane

[toffeelemon]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

thank you @wilmonsfolklore for tagging me! 🫶🏼

How many works do you have on Ao3?

32 (that i didn’t orphan👀)

What's your total Ao3 word count?

366,979

What fandoms do you write for?

young royals baby! every now and then i’ll get into a fever dream for other media but yr is my constant

Top five fics by kudos

and they were roommates

royal pains

alex ayúdame

only fools rush in

worst kept secret in history

(i’m glad roommates is the highest because that’s what i’m most proud of. the rest were my entry to yr fics but i believe i have evolved since then!)

Do you respond to comments?

YES! please always leave me comments i love comments

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

lmao i famously don’t write angst. i wrote roommates right after a break up so that was a little rough but. i fixed it all with a timeskip so

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

they all do!!! i have never written a Happily Ever After though, i like the kind of beginning of a happy ending - like yr in canon. the 10 year time skip fic for my rwrb and yr crossover might be the closest to Endgame i’ve ever written?

Do you get hate on fics?

the princess wille AU is - sometimes divisive… rarely directly in my line of sight but i do see some Takes about it, to each their own i guess since it’s so personal to me

Do you write smut?

i surprise myself every time…

Craziest crossover:

i wrote a genderbent yr - first kill AU sksk that had to be my nichest work

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yes and i revived my wattpad to call out some teenagers ripping off my yr fics. the most mindboggling thing was that they were responding to comments like they wrote it too

Have you ever had a fic translated?

YES! and they were roommates and worst kept secret in history is translated in brazilian portuguese !! every now and then i want to work on chinese translations for my own fics/ others but never got around to it

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

recently fell into writing bits and bobs for @prince-simon newest dead boy detectives fics! i love their writing sm i did try to weasel into their fics many a times, i’m so blessed to get to persuade my fave writer to give me what i want heheheh

All time favourite ship?

wilmon of course but i’d say that malec from shadowhunters set up the blueprint for me. i always enjoy reading firstprince because great fics are aplenty

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

started a s1 divergence fic when i was in a pretty dark spot in which wille’s mental health plummets and they have to navigate a healthy supportive friendship before wille could be good enough for himself and simon again. i think it could slap but writing it put me in such bad place so i doubt i will finish what i started

What are your writing strengths?

i didn’t notice until other people pointed it out but apparently i jump across POVs pretty seamlessly! i have always written stream of consciousness swapping POVs - i consume and love visual media way more than books so my head is pretty much in a very visual screenwriting/sceneblocking mode and every POV swap is like. a camera angle change to me

What are your writing weaknesses?

TENSES💀 writing in present tense is such a saving grace for me. logically i know i’m fluent in english but i have a lot of “english as second language student” trauma so i try to keep it simple and straightforward. also pingpong brain traits i don’t like having writing plans so sometimes i do lose the plot, struggle with continuity or forget about key themes and scenes and get mad about it

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

love-hate sksk my favourite scenario is if the translation is immediately available (but not disruptive somehow). i tend to forget by the time i reach the author’s note in the end. it’s more fun when it’s a language i have a basic grasp on so maybe i should just suck it up

(biggest pet peeve is if it’s another language romanised - it’s basically gibberish to native speakers i’m sorry😭)

First fandom you wrote in?

youtube rpf… on wattpad…

Favourite fic you've written?

there’s so many but. princess wille the manifestation of my own self you will always be famous x

tagging @prince-simon @aro-of-artemis @ungaroyals

[fieldofdaisiies]

ACOTAR tag game

Thanks for the tag @chunkypossum ☺️ I am starting a new one as they always get sooooo long.

Answer the questions below & tag whoever you want, or make it an open tag!!

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

It's Elain and then the two Vanserra brothers Lucien and Eris.

Who's your least favourite character?

Amren...

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

She was quite powerful and managing to free herself from the Prison was pretty cool.

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Helion. I just love him.

Favourite MINOR character?

Ressina. I think she was really nice, and a good friend for Feyre.

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

Always and forever Elucien. (and then Azris)

Favourite court and why?

Autumn. It is my favourite season and I love Eris.

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

I am very bad at these things because my brain stops thinking. I honeszly have no idea, the Midday Court where it is all about good food and lunch lol

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

Thesan and his mate/husband and also Kallias and his Viviane. I think we were robbed of many good stories. AND of course some Azris moments heheheh

What's your unpopular opinion?

I found Rhys and Feyre's behaviour at the High Lord's meeting a little cringe. I am no anti and I don't hate these characters, obviously but nowadays you always have to make this clear, but I really had to cringe when reading the scene.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

Azriel and Eris are secretly mates and Elain actually already likes Lucien so much but is scared and unsure of her feelings because being fae still overwhelmes her (oh am I writing a fic about this? yes, I do heheheh)

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

Find Bryaxis.

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

Winnowing. It is soooo practical and amazing, just going from one place to the other within seconds, I would be unstoppable

tagging (no pressure) @moonlightazriel @jules-writes-stories @secret-third-thing @nocasdatsgay @mika-no-sekai-blog @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @brekkershadowsinger @popjunkie42

[idridian]

tagged by @vriskarlmarx, thank you kindly 🪚

last song: "square hammer" by ghost (specifically the live version from rite here rite now)

favorite color: teal

currently watching: the latest secret sleepover society stream vod (home safety hotline: seasonal worker)

last movie: alien (1979) hehehehe

sweet/savory/spicy: i do like sweet things quite a lot

current obsessions: happy to report that the douglas rain insanity is still going strong. been rotating the idea of *** ****** ***** in my mind again recently

last thing i googled: "julius caesar 1960 cbc." found a scan of the cbc times radio & tv program that had some background info (most of which i already knew) and a picture of douglas rain and fritz weaver in it, in case you're wondering. here it is:

(yes, i'm unwell about the way their hands are touching, why do you ask)

No-pressure tagging @asylos @filmnoiress @stuckasmain @michiruze @samsarapavillion and whoever else would like!

[imjustsocute]

Character Inspiration🌼🌼🌼

(Thanks @cyberghostdraws for the template🥰🙏 You made my day!!!)

Background of created OCs

1. Kettu (Our little chaotic fox) : At first I draft her as a loner, doesn’t give a s*** anything and edgy. But I thought about it that would be a boring character which we often see from series, games or movies, plus I found my beloved one named ‘König’ and read his backstory made me want to hug him, give him a warm and want to see him happy🥰🥰(so embarrassing!!😣). So I decided to created my first OC with concept of a cheerful and optimistic but naughty and chaotic energy at the same time. I just want to see this world burn HAHAHA! (Last word I’m just kidding, Okay? Don’t curse me.)

“Hey Kön! I’m about to show something really cool!”

“Hang on! I’m on my way!”

[Maniac Laughing] “Everyone goes BOOM!!!”

2. ??? (A crazy guy who loves blowing stuffs) : Well, you will know him soon. But I’ll tell you some secrets about him. He somehow related to Kettu. And his best friend named R.A. Oh I forgot to tell you one that he also is a chaotic one like Kettu.

“Hehehehe..I like youuu~ Traget practice.”

[Pick up a dynamite stick] “Hey Russ! Got a light?”

[Maniac Laughing] “WE BLOW ‘EM UP!!!”

3. ??? “Bell” ??? (My new beloved daughter!) : After I finished this game last year…Mha hart mah soleAhhhhhhhhhh!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY DAUGHTER!!! YOU BASTARD!!!(Sorry for my inner feelings hehheh😅) I think the story of Bell can be far from the original, y’know Bell is just an unknown character that control by player. No background story or even name. We do not know about her true identity(Yeah I choose female bell). So I decided to create my own Bell, it might not be canon. I put the her personality as a light ferminine with concept of a sorrow and identity crisis but yet strong to live this cruel world. And now I’m writing her information, you will meet her soon!

“…Sometimes I dreamed of about the woman and the girl…they said to me for something but I didn’t hear it.”

“Even I have my friends to support me here…But Why am I still feel lonely and…..sad?..”

“ ‘Hold your memories close to your heart’ Someone told me once…But I can’t remember who they are.”

.

(If there’s anything wired in my writing, I apologize to you😣😣)

Tags: @mutantthedark @dreamcast641 @walder-138 @vasyandii and everyone who read this blog

[cilil]

Six Sentences

I believe @elennalore and @fishing4stars tagged me for this a while ago so... here we go (finally)!

This is from an upcoming fic for Ainur Week, featuring Námo on a secret mission (and my darling Navëquen who is currently watching this scene unfold):

Námo began to sing. It was pure song rather than any sort of spoken language, understood by each and every living thing, a wistful melody against the howling wind. Slowly, he began moving his arms, drawing wide circles, stretching, twisting his fána. His feet appeared to barely touch the ground whenever he took a step, his sandals spotless and his skin unmarred by charred wood and shards of broken weapons strewn all over the ground. Wide sleeves fell back when Námo rose to his full height and appeared to reach for the sky, allowing both himself and those who heard him in the Unseen Realm to pause and behold the regal poise of his chosen form. It was in perfect sync with his mighty ëala, moving, bending and swaying in ways that should be impossible when he began to dance alongside his song, now swift and full of energy.

No pressure tags: @sauron-kraut (hehehehe) @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @ruiniel @tragedybunny @urwendii and everyone else who wants to join! :)

[cyberdragoninfinity]

You mentioned Primo has friends who care about him very much in the last Pizza AU ask, so I'm very curious as to who these friends are. Are they canon Yugioh characters, or OCs?

I think it'd be very funny if he was inexplicably friends with the Zexal kids. It's giving "introvert who was adopted by an extrovert + their friend group" kinda vibes.

HEHEHEHE it's. well it's a secret third thing actually: characters from completely different media <3

my ygo spinoff 'real world AUs' (pizza AU, college AU) and my bestie @clarktozolt 's MOTHER college AU take place in the same Kansan town, and through a series of primarily pizza and sword related events Primo's inadvertently become pals with clark's AU Lucas, Claus, and Kumatora from Mother 3. He still isn't entirely sure how he got adopted into the fold of these Very Nice People and he's a little scared by how earnest and kind they are but I think they do him some good.

Claus is his roommate and they are BFFS!!!! These two completely unrelated characters have a surprisingly amount of character/theme overlap but we're the only people who have realized this and now we spread the truth. They play swords together now. They're the autism/adhd solidarity dynamic duo. They have two eyes and three arms between them.

we love them SO much.

HE IS ALSO ACTUALLY friends with, Some zexal kids. He's getting there :3c Alito and Girag live in the same apartment complex as Primo and Claus, and Primo and Alito have been hitting it off (as. much as primo can "hit it off" with anyone dfghsg). Sometimes they go box at a local gym together!! (sidenote in tag force Primo has a mild fondness for boxing gloves, which I just think is so charming. ;w;)

we also um. made Claus cousins with A Certain Zexal Character (🥕) so you can imagine the occasional mistaken identity antics that are happening in that apartment complex. Primo's six degrees of separation from half of the Zexal guys really is only like. two degrees lol

[cosmic-ships]

I was tagged by @deathnot-e Hey thanks~!!! Appreciate you! :D

Favorite color: Orange, Purple, yellow, (and now Red .////.)

Last song I listened to: Hands Of time by Hellberg... for no apparent shut up >////> /lh LOL

The last film I watched: The Last Jedi~! for no apparent un-fucking-hinged husband scenes hehehehe I did watch TROS with my bestie and The simpsons movie last night but when I got home I was like TLJ NAOW~!! \O/

Currently reading: The Secret History of Twin Peaks by Mark Frost I am only one chapter in but it....pffft....peaked my interest.. [gets tomatoes thrown at me]

Currently craving: Are we talking food or fictional character? :3c if its food I could really go for some damn Miso Soup! mmmmmm If we're talking characters......I don't wanna talk about it >///> lol

Currently watching: .......megalopolis trailers on repeat... mainly the first one where its just...h e shush! sldkfjdsl

Coffee or tea: Yes ._. I love coffee AND tea! There is no one or the other here the answer is simply "yes" <3

I'm tagging: @heatobrienswife || @mauls-waifu || @little-miss-selfships || @dragonsmooch || @juugahusband || @mahitosoulmate (No pressure to do this and ignore if you've already been tagged!! dslkfjdslf)