#or doom him extra that would be funny

[wizard-enthusiast]

someone undoom this man’s narrative and give him some warm soup

[thesundowncrew]

Which tragic death would you suffer?

SAMHAIN - the prophetic hero

you die saving the world, as you were always supposed to. peace comes only with your blood. the world will remember you for centuries. they will write poems, create art, and film movies all about you. no one will remember what you were before your death. maybe you don't even know it either. you have spent so long saving the world time after time that there is nothing left of you except the heroism. you die never knowing love.

NIGHTSHADE - the worthless sacrifice

you die to protect something you love. it does not matter in the end. if it's a person, they still die shortly after, if it's a war, you still lose. your death means nothing. the only people who could've appreciated it will be gone quickly as well. you will die thinking you have done something, when really you have done nothing. perhaps that is the saddest thing of all.

AXEL - the betrayal

you die at the hands of the person you love most. maybe there are tears in their eyes as they drive the sword into your chest, maybe there is none. there are certainly tears in yours. your mouth will open to ask 'why' only to spit blood instead. you will die never knowing if they loved you at all, wondering if you could've done something to prevent this, or if it was always going to end this way.

Stolen from: @hearthtales

[babyleostuff]

svt without their goodnight kiss | ot13

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

this baby (29 year old man) would not be having it. he swears he needs his goodnight kiss to fall asleep, so not getting one is a big no no. at first he’d try to be all „okay, whatever, if they don’t want to give me my goodnight kiss then so be it” (stumps his feet). yeah, gives up on that after ten seconds. cheol would then try to pull you even closer to his body (as if that was possible), to gently remind you that „baby, what about my kiss?”

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

i think it depends on the day for hannie. if he’s having more of a „yoon menace jeonghan” day, he’s going to wake you up, and stare at you with a blank expression and pursed lips, waiting for his kiss. if he’s having more of a „hannie” day, there’s NO way he’s waking you up. the only think he does is tucks you in even better, wrapping you up in the blankets, thus making you look like a lil burrito.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

not going to lie - he’d be a bit upset about not getting his goodnight kiss. he may not be the most outwardly affectionate person out there, but he still loves getting his kisses, especially before bed. if he saw you already asleep there’s no way he’d wake you up, but if you were still kind of awake, shua would try to find a way to get his kiss after all (would probably take way to long to come up with a plan, and you’d end up falling asleep).

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

please don’t forget about jun’s goodnight kiss, he turns into a sad pookie without one :(((( he cherishes your affection SO much (even though he’s not the one to actually initiate it, trust me: he loves it). and so not getting his lil kisses before sleep is a big deal for jun, because how is he supposed to fall asleep without them? in conclusion - you forgetting goodnight kisses = sad jun (and that would be a sad jun for the whole night because there is no way he’d remind you about the kisses).

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

worry not - soonyoung is going to smother you in kisses if you forget. sleeping or not, he will give you a kiss (ten of them) (though if you’re actually asleep, he’s much more gentle). whether he’s the one to get kissed or if he’s the one to give the kiss, hoshi has to share some of his affection before bed. he just wants you to know that he loves you (there’s a small chance he’d be a bit sulky in the morning because of the lack of his goodnight kiss)

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

it’s funny because whenever he forgets about giving you your goodnight kiss, and you complain about it in the morning he’s all like 🙄 BUT when it’s you not giving him his kiss he turns into a pouty babie (in sad font). wonwoo is too shy to ask you for the kiss, so if you forget he’s doomed to a sleepless night (not actually, but he likes being dramatic like that) (his goodnight kiss is really important for him).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

our jihoon, leader of the „i hate love affection” squad. whenever people asks him how he feels about stereotypical relationship stuff, he’s kind of like :/// okay, sure - then why are you all pouty if you don’t get your goodnight kiss, woozi? thank god you’re already sleep so you can’t see his adorable pout (he wouldn’t be able to bare your teasing), but really? you forgot about the kiss? (👉🏼👈🏼). to make himself even more miserable he doesn’t wake you up (that comes more from the fact that he wants you to actually sleep, he knows that there’s no point in waking you up).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

what do you mean no kiss??? but how is he supposed to fall asleep now??? hello??? why do you want him to suffer??? he clings to you extra tightly, so even if you are already sleep, his extra tight hug wakes you up (after that it’s not hard to figure out the reason for his extra clinginess) (as if the pout didn’t tell you everything you needed to know). seokmin feels kind of bad for waking you up, but after you kiss him (and he kisses you back), you’re able to quickly fall asleep together this time.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

has no shame (and he really needs his goodnight kiss), so he just manhandles you so he can properly see your face, and stares at you (gyu makes those comically big eyes since it’s dark, and there is a 99% chance you can’t see them anyway), and waits till you get what he wants. if you don’t (because you’re probably too tired to understand his antics), he just plainly says „goodnight kiss”, and taps his lips.

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

wouldn’t be overly dramatic about not getting the kiss, because that would just mean he’d be the one to give you one :))) (or two) (or many more). of course he adores getting his goodnight kisses from you, but i honestly think he loves it even more when he’s the one to shower you in affection. hao is not the biggest on physical touch, but something about the nighttime, and you both being in bed that makes him more expressive with his affection.

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

huh, the audacity you have to forget about his goodnight kiss. for the first five minutes boo just lays in bed slightly angry at you that you dared to forget about it (because come on - he has to have his kiss kiss), but then a bigger problem arises. how the hell is he supposed to fall asleep without it? and so he spends the next few minutes looking up at the ceiling, and wondering how he was able to fall asleep before he met you (he came to the conclusion that it was impossible, sleep didn’t exist before you) (he managed to fall asleep anyway) (and obviously he asked you the next morning why you didn’t kiss him) (turns out you were so tired you simply forgot)

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

actually quite happy about it because it means he can give you a goodnight kiss. maybe you were too tired, maybe you just didn’t feel like kissing him that night - it didn’t matter, it was the perfect moment for vernon to be a bit clingier for once. yes, he loves your pre bedtime kisses, but being the one giving you those feels so good as well (and usually he’s just too shy to be the one to give the goodnight kiss) (he also knows how happy it makes you to kiss him goodnight so he usually doesn’t have the heart to be the one to initiate them).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

very sad, very heartbroken, very much unable to sleep. chan is a lil romantic, and he loves your little routine of giving and receiving goodnight kisses, so he’s not really surprised about feeling so upset. yes, he understands that you’re tired, and probably just fell asleep before you were able to give him one, but… at least one kiss, please? but chan wouldn’t do anything about it. as much as he’s heartbroken about a kiss-less night, he would never wake you up or disturb your sleep just for a kiss (would make sure to ask for extra good morning kisses) (and would hold you extra tight that night to make up for the lack of kisses)

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[its-avalon-08]

hey can you write that Carlos Sainz is his wife Y/N (she is also Spanish) are nicknamed the couple the funny ones in the paddock because they often play pranks on each other on TikTok and they often tease each other because they have the same personality as it's their humor and that they are both tactile

glitter and lucky socks

the air in imola crackled with nervous energy, race day for the emilia romagna grand prix. but amidst the tension, a familiar giggle echoed through the ferrari garage. there, carlos sainz, in his pristine red race suit, was doubled over, socks clutched in his hand.

"no, no, no!" he wheezed, laughing so hard he was struggling to breathe. "that can't be real! y/n, you didn't!"

across the garage, you, his ever-playful wife, smirked, phone in hand. "y/n! you dyed my lucky socks pink?" carlos' voice, laced with mock horror, reached your ears.

you winked, feigning innocence. "what socks, cariño? i haven't seen any pink socks around."

carlos knew that look. it was the same mischievous glint he saw reflected back in his own eyes every time he'd snuck toothpaste into your shampoo or replaced your coffee with a peppermint smoothie (much to your initial disgust since you hated it, but ultimate amusement).

"oh, come on," he whined, getting up and moving to grab you from your waist. "mi amor ¿por qué debes burlarte de mí? (my love why must you tease me?). y/n still holding up her phone, to record her shenanigans, had small tears in her eyes following her husband's reaction. after posting the tiktok the caption read: 'sending some extra luck to my favorite driver (don't worry, they're his backup pair) #f1 #pranksforsainz #losdivertidos

the video had already blown up, with comments like "y/n is savage" and "carlos, your wife is a menace!" erupting like virtual popcorn.

charles leclerc, carlos' teammate, strolled by, phone in hand. he glanced at the video, then at carlos' pink-socked foot, and burst out laughing. "mate, you're doomed!"

carlos groaned, but a smile tugged at his lips. you two were known in the paddock as 'the funny ones'. your constant pranks, playful teasing, and the undeniable fact that you seemed to share the same mischievous personality – it was all part of your humor, your way of showing affection. as charles saw the way carlos and y/n looked at eachother he chuckled as he remembered the times carlos had put a whoopie pillow down on y/n's chair infront of the ceo of ferrari much to her horror or how y/n had replaced carlos's hair gel with glitter. the two were madly in love and in such a serious world, they still found time to be human.

charles continued to recall how carlos would always hold you in anyway he could, how he would grasp on to your pinky finger in a crowd, how y/n would always hug carlos from behind, the way carlos and y/n's hand were permanently intertwined. amidst all the pranks and jokes, the couple knew each other inside and out.

later, after the race (which carlos, miraculously, managed to win, pink socks and all), you found him in the pits, a towel draped over his shoulders.

"so," you said, leaning in for a kiss that left him breathless, "about that luck i sent your way..."

carlos chuckled, pulling you into a hug. "you're lucky i love you," he mumbled against your hair.

"and you're lucky i put the real socks back in your bag before you left for the grid," you whispered, earning a playful shove that sent you both into another fit of laughter.

as mechanics swarmed around them, celebrating the win, charles shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. there they go again, he thought. those two are a riot. but then he saw you plant a big, lipstick-stained kiss on carlos' cheek, and a warmth spread through him. maybe a little paddock romance wasn't such a bad thing after all.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading! 🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[goodlucktai]

16 for the dialogue prompts?

dialogue prompts

16. “God, I’m so sorry, it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

@dandywonderous im so sorry about this in advance 🥹

x

When they were little, and they started wearing masks because Mikey wanted to be like the heroes he watched in Saturday morning cartoons, Donnie asked Splinter to cut the tails of his short so they wouldn’t get in his way.

Leo thought that was a crazy decision, because if the tails were short they wouldn’t match Raph’s. 

“So?” Donnie said, unscrewing the bottom panel of the oscillating fan he stole from Splinter’s room. 

“So what?” Leo said. 

“So what if I don’t match Raph? I don’t have to,” Donnie pointed out, a seven year old at his most reasonable.

His twin blinked, then his striped cheeks puffed out, brow furrowing, fully not understanding the question. He wanted to do everything Raphie did, but denied it when anyone told him so. 

This certain proof of that behavior made Donnie smile, quiet and indulgent the way he only ever was for his other half, but only when it was just the two of them. 

Leo whined and kicked his feet but Donnie wouldn’t tell him what was funny. 

Those long blue mask tails are sodden and heavy as Donnie shifts them out of the way, leaving a sickening trail of red where they drag against Leo’s neck and shoulder. 

They’re pinned down, what’s left of the tunnel groaning and shifting around them, at least three Technodromes filling the sky outside. Donnie can feel the hum of impending doom in his teeth. 

“Hush, Nardo,” Donnie whispers, hand clamped over Leo’s mouth hard, even though it cuts him to have to do this. “You can’t scream, mellizo. Hush.”

His twin writhes, digging at Donnie’s grip with desperate fingers. His chest is heaving, eyes wild with pain. The rosy glow of Raph’s ninpo is all they have to see by as the projection hovers above them in case of another collapse. In the dim light, Donnie can almost pretend it’s mud he’s kneeling in, warm and slick and pooling at an alarming rate from the slab of concrete that Leo’s right arm has been crushed under.  

The safe zone has been compromised. It’s devastating, but not at all surprising. Two of their scouts didn’t report in when they should have, baseline humans who didn’t have a hope of resisting the Krang’s method of interrogation, so it was only a matter of time before the enemy came knocking. 

April, Mikey and Cass have been evacuating their people and transporting supplies in and out of sunny orange portals all morning while Draxum, Hob and Usagi guarded their every move with eagle-eyed vigilance. 

Donnie, Raph and Leo were holding the Krang at bay for every extra second that they could, but they stayed out there a second too long. 

Now Leo is bleeding and the Krang hounds are prowling, their horrible faces scraping the ground as they sniff out that rich source of life, and Donnie’s mind is blank with panic. They’re trapped, and if he lets go then Leo will scream and bring death down on them, and if he doesn’t then death will come anyway, with teeth and venom.

“Shhh, Lilo,” Donnie tries to soothe, imagining Leo’s sweet, bright ‘shhh yourself, Dodo!’ in place of the uncomprehending whine he gets in response. “God, I’m so sorry. It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Maybe we should pray, he thinks wildly. Not to god, because that would be a spectacular waste of breath, but to one of the people who left the party early and might be willing to toss a miracle or two in their direction. Papa, or Gram-gram, or April’s mom. 

The red projection surrounding them begins to shrink. Slowly, making sure the rocks above and around them won’t shift, until the ninpo is just a warm glow beneath Raph’s skin. Donnie feels a rush of relief and anticipation—Raph has a plan, Raph will tell him what to do. 

Raph puts one arm around Donnie’s shoulders and cups Leo’s face with his other hand, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Blood smears beneath his fingers. His expression is hard to read in the dark underground. 

“You’ll be alright, big man,” Raph murmurs, all conviction, as if he can make it true out of sheer love. If anyone could, it would be him. Then he says, “Donnie, can you cut him out?”

The question makes his stomach lurch with nausea, bitter and acidic, but it’s a question that he can answer. After fighting in a three-turtle team for the better part of two hours, Donnie’s ninpo feels like coffee dregs left in the bottom of an empty pot. He has enough strength left that he could summon a tool for an emergency amputation, but only that. 

“Not quickly,” he says pointedly, “or quietly.”

Raph nods. He just sits there for a minute, holding them. They don’t have a minute and Raphie knows that but he’s just holding them. Donnie’s heart begins to race in a brand-new direction, some frightened thing in his very center sitting up and taking notice. 

Donatello has always been an incredible number of things, not all of them good or noble or worth bragging about, but above all else, at the end of each and every day, he was Raphael’s little brother. 

Donnie didn’t imitate him when they were kids—didn’t wear his mask tails long or find reasons to follow him around—but he was every firm hug Donnie needed to keep his skin from itching when life got too loud. He was an attentive, listening audience when Donnie had to talk about the things pingponging around in his mind without being interrupted or he’d scream. He was the large hands that held Donnie’s, the snaggle-toothed face that smiled in encouragement, when Donnie learned to walk. 

Donnie knew him fundamentally. Intrinsically. A textbook he never had to study, knowledge that grew up with him from the first moment he opened his eyes to the big, bright world. That’s how he knew what was about to happen the second before it did. 

“No,” Donnie says hoarsely. “Please don’t.” 

“Raphie’s gotcha,” Raph says warmly, the last steadfast and solid and remarkably kind thing left in the apocalypse.

He reaches down and presses the panic button on Donnie’s gauntlet. The alert activates with a bright pinging sound effect, echoing twice in their little disaster-made cavern as it’s received by Leo and Raph’s comms, and the Krang hounds nearby whine and bark in excitement. Their claws churn up earth and rock as they start to run.

Raph spares a second to press a kiss against Donnie’s temple, and another to Leo’s forehead, and then he’s gone. The light goes with him. Donnie shakes like a leaf, unreasonably cold, unable to think. 

Leo is half out of his mind by now, sobbing and jerking at his trapped limb, but all his agony is soundly drowned out by the brutal battle Raphael is leading far away from them. 

“Hush,” Donnie whispers, eyes stinging so badly he can hardly keep them open, tears dripping endlessly down his face. “It’ll be over soon.”

[angrycloudloud]

I thought a sad headcanon about the zaundads.

I just thought that Silco has PTSD from the river and probably he couldn't take a relaxing bath ever again without having panic attacks about Vander trying to kill him. He can barely tolerate showers without panicking, but baths are a big NO. Which is kind of sad and funny since he probably had the money to have a nice bathroom with a place to take baths after the betrayal when he starts his little Shimmer business thing, and he most definetely discovered he can't take a fucking long, warm, relaxing bath by trying to take one and need to drag himself out of the water shivering and crying like a wet cat.

And Vander isn't in better condition, because if i doom one of them i'll doom both of them. Vander can't put his hands in water. Like, he can't do the dishes, he can't help the children to take a bath, he can't put his hands under any liquid without getting frozen on sight and start having flashbacks about Silco. Vander had to organize the girls and the boys to help each other in the bath "because they are big enough" even when they weren't, because he is too scared to hurt them. Once Powder got back to The Last Drop crying because something got stuck on her hair and Vi couldn't get It out, so Vander tried to help her washing her hair, and he had to call Claggor and Vi to help Powder with it because he was shivering too much and Powder was so small and he was so scared he would hurt her like he did with Silco... And he hired people to help with "The Last Drop" obviously he needed extra hands but also because he needed someone to clean the glasses if he doesn't want to end up drunk at the end of the night looking at his wet hands as if he wanted to cut them off his body.

Now you can suffer with me, you welcome.

[hollowwrites]

Company

Ominis x MC

Summary - I wanted to write something with cheeky, teasing Ominis and it quickly devolved into Ominis in love. I like the idea of these two being really mature and serious but when they’re together they’re just comfortable and silly.

50 house point to anyone who catches the Baldurs Gate reference

Warnings - None (Fluffy, comforting goodness)

Word Count - 3200

~

This was getting a tad ridiculous.

Ominis couldn’t really say much. He was the King of sleeping at all hours of the day and in a manner of different locations.

But this was starting to concern him.

On at least five occasions over the last month he had found Evelyn completely passed out. In the Common Room. In the Room of Requirement. On one occasion he’d almost tripped over her legs, splayed forward outside one of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classrooms. Like she was on her way to the Undercroft but simply didn’t make it.

It seemed as well that himself and Sebastian took it in turns to find her, bringing her back to somewhere she could properly get some rest before she started all over again the next day.

See, as soon as Evelyn made her return to Hogwarts, the beginning of her sixth and arguably her first proper year there, she hadn’t stopped. Essays, Assignments, extra curricular activities, extra lessons. Anything the school had to offer Evelyn was in.

That was the only way she could see herself catching up to her fellow classmates.

What she failed to see was that she’d already surpassed so many of them in most of their lessons. Whilst simultaneously learning an entirely unknown field of magic alone and saving Hogwarts from certain doom.

Not bad for someone who didn’t know what a Quaffle was.

But it was that lack of common knowledge that kept her thinking she was below average. Kept her busy.

So when Ominis managed to catch her it was a miracle.

Wrangling her in was something else entirely. Usually he could tempt her into more studying and from there would simply distract her away from her studies until they both collapsed from exhaustion and too many bags of Honeydukes fudge.

They’d made a habit of reading in the tiny lobby of the Room of Requirement, tucked up on the sofa in front of the cosy crackling fire. A blanket over their legs and books in hand, they’d often spend any available free time holed up this way. Whether it was a shared blanket or separate, sat besides each other or at each others feet. Books firmly planted in their laps or, more often than not, precariously dangling from fingers when one of them nodded off.

That cosy warmth is what often coerced Evelyn to sleep after a long day of studying.

And because of that, Ominis had grown accustomed to the dull weight of her head on his person. Leaning on his thigh, or even his chest if they lay at a funny angle. Most commonly was his shoulder.

He paid it no mind. The soft thud of her head falling to his shoulder normally indicated it was time to relax, no longer needing to keep an ear out for her. She was right there.

Where she belonged.

This time is was the gentle hum of his wand that sent her off. The moment he had produced the novel he was engrossed in and the thrum of magic radiated from his wand as it dictated its words to him, her eyes grew heavy. It was often the case, like the soft low drone of his charm was associated with peace.

Although it wasn’t just her. They both found their comfort within each other.

For her, it was his wand and the way it hummed with potential magic. The almost velvety lapels of his robes. The subtle scent of bergamot and black tea.

For him, it was her hair. Yes, he enjoyed the delicate rose that fell around her like a halo, but it was her hair that sent shivers down his spine.

After long days studying, naps and spell practise, her normal prim and proper bun, piled high on her head, began to droop. Tiny hairs escaped it confounds and fell over her face. Of course he only knew of this from the flyaways caressing his cheek as she lay there. And he’d be lying if he said, the small annoyed puffs of air didn’t amuse him as she blew them away. But he much preferred removing those offending strands himself, allowing its soft, barely wavy locks to slip through his fingers like silk.

When she was awake, said act was accompanied by a heat rising in her cheeks, the like of which he could only feel when his fingers eventually dropped from her face. The minute change in her temperature and the way she would stutter out her thanks were pure joy for Ominis.

Whilst she was asleep, he didn’t get the gratitude. Just a disembodied mumble and her soft breath falling over his neck in slow sharp huffs. As though she knew he were there.

It was moments like those, in the quiet when it was just them, that he realised he had fallen for her.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he stopped craving her attention as a friend and started needing it as part of his daily life. Sebastian insists it was from the moment they’d met, teasing him endlessly about being jealous and wishing to court her.

Maybe he had been right.

It didn’t matter now.

She was his friend. An established friendship that he cherished and he hoped she did too. He wasn’t about to lose one of the only people he cared about because of…what? Love?

He would.

He definitely would.

He’d do anything for her.

But so would his family. And he couldn’t allow that.

Besides…how does one approach your best friend and tell them that you love them, whilst simultaneously not wishing to actually be with them for their own safety and due to your own families prejudices? There wasn’t exactly a step-by-step guide…even in the Restricted Section…

So…at least for now, he would enjoy these moments with her where he could pretend. Pretend that she reached for him in her sleep because she loved him too. Pretend that nothing outside of these four walls could harm them. Pretend that they could live that happy fantasy life they read about so often.

Happily ever after.

He didn’t feel the exact moment she began to stir in his lap, her head rolling to look up at him. He was too distracted by his own thoughts, his own imaginings. Too busy distracting himself with her.

There was no indication to Ominis just how long she lay awake for. Her breathing unchanged, movements slow and lethargic. But it was long enough for her to watch the tangle of his brows grow harder, the knot grow larger.

Then a long dainty digit poked his brow. Directly in the middle, where he could feel his frown becoming deeper and deeper. Dwelling on thoughts of what ifs and maybe’s.

That knot was willed away with a single prod of her finger.

“Moody” she grumbled, the familiar husk of her sleepy state melting away the last little bit of negativity in his head.

Gods…I’m so in love her

The thought scared him somewhat. The unknown possibilities, the hurt, the rejection. No, Ominis was very much a creature of habit. He could remain as he was rather contently…for now.

His ever growing smirk became impossible to hide behind the thin veil of annoyance he wore across his features. His lip twitched upward as he tried, and failed, to control his grin. Tutting, with faux exasperation, he shifted his focus down towards his lap.

“Tsk…You can’t just point it out and expect it to go away” he scolded. She’d heard him tell her off before. Most memorable being the unfortunate Undercroft incident. This was a far cry from those times.

“Sorry, it’s just…” she mumbled, still sounding half asleep. Then came another poke to his brow and he could no longer control the easy and airy laugh that left his lips “…I don’t like it when you’re brooding”

“I am not brooding” Ominis pouted upon hear that word. He’d heard himself described as that many times and he couldn’t quite understand why. It wasn’t his fault his face naturally settled into a frown. From what he understood about Evelyn’s visage, hers was much the same but no one called her broody.

“Besides…” he continued after hearing her playful giggle. He hated being called that but somehow when she said it, it wasn’t half as bad. “…if I was brooding, you can’t stop it by simply poking it away. You’ve tried enough times, I would have assumed you’d have understood that fact by now”

His smirk grew to a wide arrogant grin as he teased her. At some point, he wasn’t really aware of when, but his fingers made their way to ends of her hair. Twirling and twiddling the soft strands around his digits, delighting in the tiny morsels of information he gathered from it.

She had longish hair. Thick, far thicker than any he’d felt before. Like a heavy fog laying over his hands.

Her voice suddenly snapped him out of his reverie. A fast and sharp reminder he didn’t live in his fantasies where she was his.

“Then why are you smiling?” She turned her head in his lap to look at his features square on.

Yes, definitely a smile…

“I’m smiling….because you’re, you” he said simply and confidently, not realising it caused a fiery flush to blossom across her cheeks. He just smiled in that half aware, half vacant way that he did. Easy. “…It is still rather irritating though…”

“Anyway…” he continued on, unaware of the bashful way she looked up at him “What disturbed you? I was having such a peaceful evening until you woke up…” He teased, the familiar crinkle on his nose appearing as his smile grew wider.

“Oh…I had a very odd dream…” shortly after she spoke, her head pulled up and out of his lap, a vague sigh leaving her lips causing Ominis to raise a pointed brow.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly, tilting his head towards her, as he always did.

“Mmm…” she hummed, shaking her head as though trying to rid the memories within “…yes, just…dreamt that I was falling”

“Ah…” Ominis replied with a smirk tugging back at his lips. His wand returned to the pages of his book, resting on the cushion beside him “…do you know the old wives tale that if you hit the ground in your dreams, you supposedly die?”

Evelyn glared at the side of Ominis’ face with enough contempt it could burn through him. And he felt it, causing the smirk to widen on his face, a flash of teeth peaking through.

“Wonderful. I trust you’ll wake me before I perish then” she jabbed him softly in the ribs as a low chuckle left him.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I shall let you fall. That way I don’t have to clean drool from my robes every other day”

That struck a nerve.

She shot up in her seat, clambering onto the cushions to get a better look at where she had laid her head.

“I don’t drool!” She exclaimed as she padded around his thigh and knee.

“You most definitely do. I already got rid of it. I’ve become quite proficient at the Drying Charm since becoming your friend” he grinned, wide, teeth bared like a cat as he bathed in her annoyance.

“I do not drool”

“Dribble then. Call it what you will-“

“I don’t dribble either” she muttered, folding her arms over her chest and slumping against the backrest. The distinct little huff as she pouted only caused Ominis to laugh loudly.

“I suppose I should go back to the Dorms…” she groaned as she stretched upwards “…wouldn’t want to dampen your robes any more than I already have”

Oh…

“Wait…” Ominis exclaimed suddenly, feeling the weight of the cushions beneath him shift as she rose from their seat. He quickly grabbed for her, aiming for her upper arm or forearm, but timed it too late and caught her palm perfectly. His long fingers slid over hers as he grasped for her, neither pulling her down nor standing himself. Just keeping her there, whilst his brain racked for an excuse.

“Is everything okay?” Evelyn asked inquisitively, the concern for his sudden shift in behaviour bled quite heavily into her tone.

“Everything’s fine…I just want to talk to you”

“Okay…” he relaxed once more when he felt her return to her position next to him “…What about?”

“I…”

Gods damn it…

“…I don’t have a topic in mind…” he scrambled. though you would never know. His voice, as always carried him with confidence, no stammering or stuttering. If it weren’t for the slight upturn of his brows…one would never suspect anything was wrong.

“You’ve been difficult to tie down as of late…” he continued “…I’ve missed you, missed your voice. I’d…just like to hear you speak”

“Okay…” she says softly, shuffling closer and leaning back into his arm. And the sigh that left him upon her acceptance was…heavy. As though he had just gotten in from a long day shopping around Londons markets, feet aching and awaiting a warm cup of tea. “Where to start…” she murmured to herself, hearing the slight tap of fingers as they drummed against her cheek in contemplation .

“Oh! Well…I read this book recently……”

This was perfect.

Ominis couldn’t imagine a better way to spend an evening. The slow crackle and pop of the fire wood. The soft cushioned nest he sat in. The gentle yet excitable tone in which she spoke.

All of it was so…comforting.

So homely.

He was home.

And as she continued, prattling on about this novel, he listened. Intently. Didn’t interject. Didn’t interrupt. Just listened. Hung up on every single word that passed by her lips.

It was a romance. And though he never expected her to enjoy those sorts of stories, he liked that she was so passionate about them. The cliches, the cringy dialogue, the overused tropes. She babbled on about them all. Though he could tell by the way she stumbled and over explained every tiny detail that she was embarrassed for liking them. Every sentence came with a justification tacked onto the end, as though it needed it.

Those words on those pages made her happy.

Therefore Ominis was happy.

Mainly for the manner in which she spoke.

He knew she talked with her hands. A visual mannarism of hers he never usually got to experience. But as she leaned into his arm, reluctant to let him move, the small twitches of her fingers and sway of her hands, accurately conveyed what she was saying. It was nice to witness her passion bubbling forward in another way.

And her laugh. Gods…

If the sound alone wasn’t enough to cause him to fall for her, her movements were. The way she leaned into him as she threw her head back. The vibrations of mirth sweeping through her whole being shifting the robes between them like kindling. He had to stop himself chuckling along with her from fear she assumed he was laughing at her. But her laughter was infectious, his willpower working overtime to not catch her bug.

It was like she was made for him. The way she laughed with her whole body. Gestured wildly with her hands, a flurry of excitement and joy or frustration and anger. Audibly thought through things, with little hums and ‘erm’s and ‘What to do’s.

She showed him, in her own way, everything he couldn’t see.

“…honestly-”

Her tone picked up. No longer the lull of softness as she explained characters, plot twists, plot holes, everything.

“-I didn’t think I’d enjoy the book. It’s rather cliche and not very well written but…I finished it in one night. I just couldn’t stop. That probably isn’t helping, me falling asleep around the castle…”

Evelyn pulled herself up and turned her head towards Ominis, finally finishing her mad rant about the silly little book she loved. His eyes were closed, head resting against the cushions, and a wistful smile on his lips.

“Ominis? Are you alright?” She whispered meekly, worried she’d knocked him out with her boring lecture.

But he simply smiled wider and opened his eyes, the glassy blue orbs settling over the fire. “I’m fine, I’m just…enjoying your company.”

Though his focus never wandered from her, or her words, he slowly shifted his gaze back towards her. He let out a relaxed sigh and sank further into the cushions, listening intently to the steady slow thump of her heart, the gentle breathes that sound more like tiny sighs.

“I’ve missed you. Missed your voice…I know I’ve already said that but…listening to you just then really emphasised it”

He was met with a simple scoff, a force of air that sounded just annoyed enough for Ominis to worry.

“You’ve finally gone mad...” She declared, her tone indicating amusement. So why the scoff? “…my voice is shrill. At best”

“I’ll admit when we first met…” Ominis started, unable to stop himself from teasing her just a little. “…I thought you were somehow half human, half mandrake but-“

Smack

“Hey!” She whined playfully smacking his arm, his smug chuckle making her own smile widen. She’d known him for a little over a year now and this was the most she’d ever seen him smile.

“BUT…” he said defensively, throwing his arms up in surrender “…I’ve since learned to love it. It’s comforting. Like listening to music.”

“Well…thank you” she said sweetly, unconsciously proving his point with her soft and gentle tone.

“I know you said that book was terribly written but I wouldn’t mind giving it a read. Do you still have it?”

“The Magister and his Mistress?” She asks inquisitively with a curious tilt to her head “Well well well, Mr Gaunt. I would never have took you for a Hopeless Romantic”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he chuckled at the name.

“There is more to me than the Dark Arts and Curses”

He could hear her rummaging around, presumably in her bag or robes pockets, until her fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding him towards a freshly bound book. The smell of its paper sent a shiver down Ominis’ spine. There was nothing better than the smell of books.

As he took it from her hands, their finger brushed against each other, delicate and deliberate. Neither flinched nor pulled away but that was expected.

They already pushed the boundaries of what was considered okay for ‘friends’. Especially for the normally standoffish Heir of Slytherin. Within a week of them knowing each other they walked arm in arm around Hogsmeade and the castle. So this casual and accidental caress most likely meant nothing. And he shouldn’t read into it.

“Thank you…” he murmured, taking the book and pushing down any thoughts that she may feel the same.

There was no point.

They couldn’t be together anyway so why bother torturing himself over it?

Her sudden yawn caught his attention once again and he turned back to her, a soft smirk pulling at his lips.

“Tired already?” He asks impishly

“I’m always tired”

“Perhaps we should get you back to the dorms. Have you sleep in a bed…for once”

Masterlist

[odetojupiter]

this is a surprise to no one but i’m thinking of the twins again. cause i don’t know whether we’re told when tilda developed her drug addiction but considering her erratic behaviour surrounding the twins birth im assuming she was already using prior to the twins arrival. and if she was using before, during, and after giving birth, that introduces so many heartbreaking possibilities for the twins.

this one ran away from me (they say, as tho they don’t always)

i see people saying they just couldn’t take andrew or aaron seriously because they’re five foot even cause that’s a funny height apparently and i just think: did u know a long term impact of prenatal drug use is impaired growth? add that to potential malnutrition and yeah suddenly it’s not that funny anymore. besides andrew being short probably made him seem like an easy target to his abusers which is what made it necessary for him to learn to defend himself in the first place sooo

other impacts of prenatal drug use: altered brain development, cognitive and behavioural issues, damaged communication/language development, newborns can be born addicted and subsequently go through withdrawals (called neonatal abstinence syndrome, which has a long list of symptoms and can cause newborns to be hospitalised or worse). in any context, this is a horribly traumatic thing for a baby to go through but then consider this:

andrew’s brain is already struggling to develop properly thanks to his mother’s drug abuse. and then you add on frequent repetitive abuse including but not limited to several occurrences of child sa. already a 7 year old brain is not wired to be able to cope with that. tie that in with his significant abandonment issues stemming from first his mother and then every subsequent family he stays with giving him up. his own narrative tries so hard to doom him, and he responds to that the only way he can: through anger. violence. how else was he supposed to respond? yes this is more andrew defence bc it seems there’s been a sudden influx of andrew hate and it boils my piss

that brings me to a new point: andrew as a newborn. and his foster family does not want to give him the extra attention he needs as a baby born through prenatal drug use. so they give him up. again and again. so

but to talk about aaron for a sec - not only could he have been born addicted, but being breastfed by a drug user (it’s up in arms whether tilda would breast feed) also has its symptoms - can make the baby sick, can ruin its sleep, cause later behavioural issues and even transfer the drug to the baby. aaron, living with tilda, was also doomed to follow the narrative.

[feyascorner]

Okay now hear me out HEAR ME OUT… this might get a bit angsty

But if astarion had romanced an elf tav, since elves reincarnate in dnd lore and retain some memories of their past life surely astarion would wait, right? Wait for them to come back to him, right??

Well most of us know that already 😋 but one thing I found interesting was; if astarion did find tav again (maybe he confirms it’s them through small mannerisms, maybe they meet at a tavern and this new tav laughs in the same melodic way, or he overhears tav talking about an interest they had in their past life) after confirming it is indeed tav again, how would astarion even feel ☹️

Because yes yipee you found them!!! But now are faced with the task of having to not only explain everything to them again (maybe fill in some of the gaps that are missing in their elf trances) but also have to deal with the impending doom that they’re going to have to die all over again 😭 like a cruel never ending cycle of having each other but never forever. (“I love you forever”, “oh darling our forevers don’t match up”)

OR OR OR if we’re feeling extra cruel, astarion finds tav over and over but each time tav dies gruesomely and it’s never preventable. A classic #timeloop lmao.

Ok enough rambling do with that as you wish

I LOVE TIME LOOP TROPES SO BADLY IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY...i dont really like how this came out but i love sad astarion so!!! not proofread so pls excuse that!!

Astarion, of all people, should love blood.

But when it's yours, all sticky and warm on his hands, he's repulsed by the crimson red staining his pale skin. Your lifeless body lies in his arms, head tucked into his chest, but your own no longer rising and falling in rhythm with your breaths. Your lashes are specked with flicks of red, and your eyes shut almost as if you're sleeping. It's only in moments like these, where you're truly like him, yet not like him at all. Dead, but not undead. Even in death, he thinks you're beautiful.

Just a few years, he reassures himself, despite the wet tears on his face. Just a few years, and you'll be back, as you always are.

And he does find you. After so many years of wandering aimlessly into bars you liked, places you enjoyed spending free time in, and spending most of his time in your previously shared home, he finally comes across you in the city square.

Only then does he realize you haven't gathered all of your past memories yet. On the one hand, he's ecstatic he found you when you have more time left in your elf lifespan, but on the other, it pains him to see you look at him in a gaze that's void of your usual adoration. But no matter. If something as trivial as this were to break his spirit, he would've rotted away years ago.

It takes time, but you manage to remember him again fully. When you do, neither of you wastes any time in restoring the remains of your previous lifetime together. You redecorate your old shared home together, toasting to a new lifetime together afterward. You give him that soft smile of yours, and he thinks he could not be happier than this. With you having so many years left, and him being infinite, he has no need to worry about being separated from you anytime soon.

For a moment, he's almost glad he was turned into a vampire spawn, because of what it means for the two of you.

"I love you forever," you say one day, pressed up against his chest with your legs entangled. "Even through all my lifetimes."

"Quite the grand gesture, my love," he grins, and you return the sentiment. "While I have only this lifetime to give you, you can have all of it. You can have what's my eternity."

You press a kiss against his lips. "...And half your closet?"

He snorts. "Everything except that."

It's okay, he tells himself. He has time. He won't have to watch your lifeless body lowered into another grave again until he's readied himself---though it seems he's never truly ready. As long as he's careful, you'd be okay.

He's always joked that your heroic tendencies would be the death of you.

There had been a storm. A large one, in fact, causing large waves to crash against the harbor and sending its occupants fleeing inward toward the city.

He should've begged you to stay.

"It's dangerous."

"It's far enough from the harbor, I'll be fine," you insist. "People need help fleeing and our neighbors are going to help out. I should too."

"Then I shall go with you-"

"It's still daytime. We can't risk it," you shake your head, squeezing both of his hands. He smells the whisk of your shampoo as you do. "I'll be okay, Astarion. I'll be back in an hour or two, I promise."

You never do.

By the third hour, the storm has already calmed, and he impatiently throws on a clock and bursts out the door like a madman. He flies past the dozens of people perched on the streets as they try to recover from the hellish storm, and despite how many there are, he doesn't see you. None of them even know where you are.

"They saved my son. Jumped into the water into those nasty waves and got him out, but they...they didn't make it."

Astarion can see the fisherman's mouth continuing to move, but he can't hear him anymore. He feels like he's suffocating, eyes wide as they slowly turn to the calm ocean that now acts as your grave. But there is no tombstone, and there is no place for him to lay down your favorite flower.

He was supposed to have time. You were supposed to have time.

And this time, he doesn't even have the opportunity to kiss your pretty face goodbye, left with nothing but the murky waters of the city that extend past what his eyes can see.

It's times like these that he hates his own eternity.

He's numb by the time he reaches the house again, just as you'd left it. When he enters the bedroom, he realizes that neither of you bothered to make the bed this morning, and sees your pillow crumpled messily against his own. And beside it, your messily tossed pajamas lying with no owner anymore.

He grabs the shirt, staring down at it with dull eyes.

He can't even cry anymore.

Astarion spends the next few decades as a ghost of the city, holding himself hostage in the confinements of his own home. He doesn't touch anything, he doesn't move anything, and he doesn't even dare to open your closet door out of fear that your clothes will lose your scent. He's sure they've already lost it, but it comforts him to know that he's left everything exactly as you had.

Time passes, and as usual, it only leaves him behind.

The criminals lurking in the shadows are the ones who face his wrath. He hunts them down viscously, barely drinking half their blood before they're already dead from the wounds he inflicts on them. He gives no more mercy, because the world has not shown him any in return. Today is no different, as he corners his victim for today in the darkest alley he can find that has a dead end.

The man begs for his life, but it doesn't even register in Astarion's head before he's dead.

The blood tastes like nothing as it slides down his throat. When he releases the man and his body collapses to the ground, Astarion wipes at his mouth, glowering blankly at what remains. A corpse. Even filth like this could leave something behind while you were lost in the sea, forever forgotten by everyone but him. It's not fair. It's not fair at all.

"Astarion?"

His head whips around, able to recognize your voice anywhere, regardless of how much time has passed. It relieves him because he'd begun to fear that his mind had grown foggy in regards to your voice, but the worries seem to have been misplaced because you sound exactly as he remembers. Your hair is a different length now, your face void of the previous scars you've had and replaced with new ones. But no amount of change can stop him from recognizing you. Not even death itself.

"Darling."

"I knew I'd find you here."

As you run into his embrace, he sees color again. He can breathe again. He can live again. And for the first time in decades, he lets himself cry again.

No matter how many times he does this and how many times you die, he'll wait. Even if it crushes him to watch your demise every time.

[kimquatz]

OCs!!! What’s your favorite random OC fact that’s nonobvious / seems incidental but you wish someone would ask about it so you can ramble about it? 👀

I put so many dumb little trivia details into my OCs that I have thought long and hard about that literally no one would care abt LAKSDAK

the first one that comes to mind (and I'll keep it brief) is how my OC Jishen is associated with the number 4 for a variety of reasons.

He is loosely based on Fangxiangshi, a Chinese exorcist who "could see in all four cardinal directions to dispel evil spirits and guide lost souls."

because of the above, Fangxiangshi is depicted with literally four eyes.

Tangentially related, but Fanxiangshi is roughly translated to be a Seer, adding to the fact why Jishen is a Seer of Doom LOL

As a partial nod and joke, Jishen wears glasses as a "four eyes" joke

The number four is associated as unlucky in Chinese culture because it also phonetically reads as death. Jishen heavily associated with both bad luck and death (Doom player....)

Somewhat related, but I picked his birthday to be on December 24th because: 1) He was coincidentally made in December, 2) Ironically, him being a Capricorn fit him best, 3) thought it would be funny just to throw an extra four in, and 4) an extra layer of irony bc he'd hate the holidays LOL

[shaisimp]

Fyodor's Drunk Lover.

(7th post woohoo! Fyodor Dostoevsky x reader. Very wholesome trust me :))

Your boyfriend has been observing you for a while as your intoxicated state is increasing with each and every drink that Nikolai is generously offering you. You keep slurring over your words, getting hiccups even. He grabbed your arm to prevent you to take another glass of alcohol before speaking up. “Dear, I think you should slow down on your alcohol.” Without knowing how drunk you are to forget he's your boyfriend, you thought he was a stranger and not your boyfriend. “But Nikolai is generously giving me drinks, it won't hurt to drink more riiiight stranger?” You slurred and whined over your words, blinking at Fyodor in a dumbfounded and slight confused manner. In your perspective he's appearing more of a caring stranger rather then the reality of him being a worried lover. He looked at you with a concerned expression, sighing a bit as he spoke* "But dear, you're already drunk." He smiled at your innocent face, seeing you as a vulnerable, easily distracted little bird. Which meant he'll have to guard you extra carefully, to prevent you to get yourself hurt. "Would you like some water as a substitute?"

He offered as a solution. “But water is not alcohol..” You whined at this worried 'stranger' who's almost as concerned to a lover may be. The fact that he's patient enough to deal with a drunk lover while getting called a stranger is impressive. He chuckled softly and shook his head. "I know, but you really should drink water. You've taken a couple drinks already." He gave you a slightly reassuring smile, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted while still being persistent. "Here, I'll get you one- it's cold." With that, he let go of your arm and immediately ordered a bottle of water for you. You hesitantly gazed at his gesture of being persistent on getting you drink water. I mean, ofcourse it appears weird in your point of view he's a stranger rather than the reality of him being your boyfriend. But hey, that's what being drunk does to you apparently.. “If my boyfriend were to see you acting all too nice to me I'd think you're doomed.” You whimpered as you blinked at him. How funny that you remember having a boyfriend but not realizing your boyfriend is the 'stranger' infront of you right this moment. An amused expression crossed his face at your statement, amused by your drunk self who didn't even recognize him as your boyfriend. He wondered if the other people in the bar would think he's your boyfriend or just a stranger. In the end, he just chose to play with the misunderstanding, smiling at you. "Ah, then I guess I should be afraid now. Since your boyfriend must be very handsome and intimidatingly tall, right?" He asked playfully, leaning a bit close to you and smiling wide. Getting the chance to talk about your lover, you started beaming a grin like a fool on love as your cheeks may have heaten up too.

“He's taller than me and he's very attractive,” You placed your elbows on the counter as your hands were resting on your cheeks. As if you were daydreaming about him. “He's really caring..and he's gentle..and, he's everything!” His amused expression turned into a playful one as he continued to tease you, even amused by how intoxicated you seemed at the moment. "He sounds almost too good to be true, huh?"

He chuckled.

He noticed how your cheeks seemed to heaten up, making you look more precious than ever before. "Does your boyfriend kiss you too? Perhaps hold and hug you a lot? Maybe even caress your soft cheeks?"

He asked teasingly, enjoying this moment. “He likes showering me with kisses, may it be on my lips or neck..well everywhere! I like how he holds me everytime I always get to snuggle him..” You continued and continued to gush over him as he continued to ask those silly questions about himself. Despite this drunken state you're in, it's so evident you're basically head over heels for Fyodor. Fyodor seemed to be getting more amused the more you continued to gush over him, especially in such a drunken state. He chuckled as he enjoyed this fun teasing game he was playing with you in. He also found this moment adorable. "Wow, it seems to me your boyfriend has a very handsome face paired with the gentleness and kindness of an angel." He commented with a smile, teasing you as if he wasn't the one you were raving about the whole time. “Mmmhm! I love him.” You beamed another happy smile as you were lowkey daydreaming about him, although the intoxicated state you're in it's just...amusing for Fyodor to see and watch his lover forget he's their boyfriend and kept referring to him as a stranger. You being in this drunken state is certainly amusing for Fyodor, and with each and every innocent statement you speak about him, he seems to continue to enjoy this fun game of teasing you while intoxicated. The more he played the game, the more amused he became. "It sure is adorable how much you love him."

He commented with a teasing tone, knowing full well that the 'him' you were talking about is actually him. “Mmmn...I miss him.” You slightly whined as you nodded to his statement, after a little while of gushing over him it seems it went into a turn when mentioning you missed him. ...Even by the fact the person you miss is right infront of you. His teasing smile slowly turned into a concerned one as he witnessed your sudden change of mood. You were talking about him as if you've missed him all this time, even though he was right infront of you. You even started to whine as if he was gone for a long time, like some sort of lost child. "But...I'm right here, dear." Fyodor spoke up, trying to snap you out of it. “How can you prove you're my Fedya?” You huffed ever so slightly as my cheeks puffed up and gazed at him with a slight frown. Calling Fyodor as 'Fedya' was one way to say it's a nickname. It appears that you're still not quite sober enough to recognize him. Fyodor looked at you as you called him 'Fedya.' Your drunken eyes might not be able to notice it, but that name seemed to make his heart skip a beat and melt a few times. He hummed a little, trying to come up with a way to convince you he's your 'Fedya' but also wanted to make the game more fun. "Well...how about this?"

He approached a small bit closer to you and leaned over your shoulders, planting kisses all over your neck. You blinked in surprise and your cheeks heaten up in an instant. Feeling surprised and flustered over the sudden action of him proving he's your boyfriend, which is quite evident enough at the moment. “Only Fyodor kisses me like thi—” Oh. “Fedya!” You exclaimed in a happy tone upon recognition, finally. You hugged him into an embrace. Fyodor chuckled softly as he heard your sudden realization. It made for a good game. He felt your arms wrap around him as you held onto him tightly, squeezing him into a warm embrace as you also realized he's your boyfriend. Your drunkenness seemed to have subsided as your senses kick in again, now realizing you're drunk. "I'm here, dear."

He hugged you tightly in a reassurance, smiling brightly as you were finally back to your senses, finally realizing he's actually your boyfriend. “I missed youuuu..” You whined and nuzzled your head against his chest upon finally realizing he's your beloved. Letting him wrap you into such a comfortable embrace which, you're doing the same to him.

He chuckled softly as you nuzzled against his chest, hugging tightly while he wrapped you into his arms. He's happy to see you back to your senses, even if you were just intoxicated. In his eyes, you'll always be the cute and adorable little bird he fell in love with. "I'm here, love."

Fyodor then lifted you up slightly, taking in some of your body weight like you're a small little bird. He'll have to make sure that his lover stays safe.

[koffeebean]

my thoughts on the ending of the hex quest. so. 1999 spoilers.

the entire "beating wally with the power of love" is funny, sure, but i think that is fucked up about the quest is that all of the protoframes originally died because they were not accepting themselves. kind of. let me explain;

aoi dies because she uses her powers to the point her body just cannot handle it, quincy dies because "he got found" by a tank (which is later revealed that he died because he did not understand he could shoot the enemies inside), eleanor died believing this was her last shot and lettie died being scared of eleanor, arthur died taking the title of the "good leader who sacrifices himself" and amir dies because he did not understand the extra abilities that come with warframe.

so we need to focus on two things: canonically, iirc, quincy(?) says that they were not given any instructions. no manuals, no nothing. they got these powers and that's it, which makes arthur the only one who is able to use his abilities with expertise. aoi, amir and quincy did not fully know what they were capable of until drifter helped them (and lettie too, as in the comics she says she's "getting the hang of it" when healing arthur, meaning she most likely was making things up as she went)

the second is that. well. albrecht especially used not the best individuals??? mentally??? for the protoframes. they probably came to him as a las resource, and afaik the protoframes are the only ones that managed to survive the strain they were infected with, but all fo the protoframes seem to be people who, without the appropriate help and support, would lose themselves. arthur would be an even more sacrificing asshole with the need to be seen as a hero regardless of what is going on around him. eleanor might have succumbed to the techrot seeing how her relationship with it is (good job on naming it girl mwah). etc.

so like... yes. i guess that the "power of love" saved the protoframes, but not in the way that "oh love fixes everything" but rather love comes with acceptance, and acceptance comes with change. without the variable factor of the drifter being capable of "taking their pain away" like the operator did albrecht's entire plan would have gone to shit. and it had, as drifter had to do a timeloop for the hex to survive. albrecht's flaw was not that he did a fucky wucky, but that he did not see it all through and simply assumed they were all doomed. albrecht's flaw was that he never realized the gift that loid gave him, the power to change through love, and thought that the protoframes were unable to do so too.

but anyways that's just my thoughts :p the guy should at least given the protoframes a warframe 101 manual. also does this even make sense at all

small edit i realized after writing this: if arthur had stayed w amir and aoi instead of running into the core, blinded by the need to be a hero, things might have been different pre-timeloop

[yourdailyangel]

Another req lol I just loved the last one! What if someone tried flirting with tav? How would ascended astarion be? Like would he just let it or no???

Of course I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!

Side note this is everywhere :( I'm currently in the process of preparing for a test and my boyfriend coming back home so I apologize but please let me know what you think!

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🖤🩸 Ascension astarion protecting his love🩸🖤

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Ooooohhh this person is VERY Bold!

°Astarion is protective anyways BUT throw ascension in there? Yeahhhh

°You are HIS. Your his consort. His everything!

°After ascension he will EXTRA protective (as I said)

°Anyone even looks funny at you and they will answer to him

°But this thug thinks he can say those nasty things about you?

°HA! they are DOOMED

°Astarion really only has to give a "Look" a look that makes even the bravest of knights shake with fear

°This look is "keep it up and they won't find you. EVER."

°During this astarion is more out to touch you more

°Call you by more little pet names

°If you encourage this.. oh my... Y/n I hope you enjoyed Walking because in the morning you will be in bed for the rest of the day.

°Im kidding well... Mostly...

°Astarion will most likely give you a special piece of jewelry to wear so people know you are in fact... HIS.

°Mostly though he just stays by your side scaring off any fool who tries to flirt with you

°He doesn't like to share. Especially what's his.

[howi99]

Jaune is a Genius AU: Jaune doesn’t take the hack against Penny well, Ironwood’s attempt to steal Penny’s free will, to reduce her to nothing but code and steel brings his rage and hate to levels he thought only Cinder could inspire. So when they toss him in that cell he makes to sure to take extra steps, after all if Ironwood has no problem taking Penny’s entire body from her he can’t complain when he loses control of his prosthetics. (Which as a reminder include his arms, the right leg and a chunk of his torso)

Jaune: WHY! WHY SHOULD HE STAY ALIVE!

Ruby: Jaune, calm down, he's still the-

Jaune: *looking furiously at Ruby* What!? We should just let him live after all the fuck up he made!? AFTER ALMOST KILLING PENNY!?

Penny: Jaune, please! You can't do it, i know you! You are a kind man, i don't want you to throw that away!

Jaune: *laughing sadly* The worst thing is? You are right. I couldn't kill him. Hell, if i did that you'd probably be the first to arrest me. *Taking a deep breath* i'm tired... I just want a break from all of this. It's funny don't you both think? All my life i wanted to be a hero and now that we are saving life, i just want to stop seeing my friends in danger....

Penny: *hugging him* Don't worry, we will win this war. And i'll do everything to stay at your side until the end.

Jaune: *hugging her back* Thank you... And Ruby? Sorry to have raised my voice at you. I'm just...

Ruby: It's fine Jaune, everyone needs breathing room, right?

___

Ironwood:... What have i done?

Jaune: *a lot calmer* Almost doomed your population and have everyone in both Atlas and Mentle killed. *Sigh* you worked with the men who turned your own robot against you in Vale. What were you thinking?

Ironwood: I don't know anymore... God be damned, i just wanted to protect my people! And i couldn't even manage to do that!

Jaune:... Have it not been of my friends, i would have personally removed each one of your prosthetics and let you crawl to surety... You are a lucky man, general. Though for security reasons, i shall deactivate your arm.

Ironwood: ... Do what needs to be done.

[the-awful-falafel]

OKAY, so. Full overthinking Doise (and Peddito) headcanons incoming (assuming they're real and not just fictional characters made up for Noise's movie):

I have this idea that Doise is actually from an alternate universe, and he's that universe's Noise equivalent. He's been fleeing for years through tower secret portals and gates to various other universes in an attempt to escape Peddito (aka his universe's Peppino equivalent turned vengeful cosmic horror ghost, obviously), specifically by trying to lure Peddito to kill Doise's alternate universe counterparts / doppelgangers / whatever to try and cheat the curse. It doesn't work, obviously, but he's selfish and willing to try anything at this point (despite superficially acting like a far nicer guy than Noise).

This is also why he appeared on the NTV movie set-- maybe he actually signed up for the role and made it seem like just a funny acting gig while hiding his ulterior motives, or he appeared to fight Noise completely unscripted and Noise and the others just shrugged and left it in, brutal murder and corpse and all.

Doise brought this all upon himself in the first place by being responsible for Peddito's death in a certain incident that may or may not have involved messing with supernatural / cosmic horror forces. They used to be good friends in their home universe, but that's long gone. Doise refuses to take responsibility for any of what happened and would rather spend the rest of his life desperately running from the consequences of his actions.

In addition, through Doise doubling down and continuing to mess with forces he shouldn't in his attempt to avoid Peddito, he has granted himself a limited form of resurrective immortality as another way to cheat death. As implied through his boss battle background (and, although it's just a silly noncanon thing, the pre-update DOOM mod stream having two Doises also inspired this idea), Doise can body-horror mitosis and bud off into another Doise that has all of his memories, so him getting brutally murdered in-game does not mean he's gone for good, as long as he remembered to create another Doise beforehand. However, his soul is divided equally between all his bodies despite them being mostly autonomous beings from each other, so not only does he struggle to use this ability beyond creating two or three extra Doises, Peddito can sense and hunt down all of them the same.

Peddito, meanwhile, has been utterly fucked up and transformed into a true supernatural horror by whatever happened, and by this point he will not rest until Doise is dead and dragged down with him. He will brutally kill whoever is in his path to murder Doise, but assuming Doise isn't currently present, he's creepy but surprisingly benign to everyone else-- albeit uninterested in socializing. He follows most vengeful ghost rules with a dash of creepypasta logic, and just because he isn't currently manifested doesn't mean he's not watching.

(Also Doise and Peddito's home universe is probably home to a full cast of knockoff "original character do not steal" counterparts relative to the Pizza Tower universe, which is really funny to think about. I imagine Peddito was a pasta chef and Doise was a Broadway actor.)

[jennay]

I'm Fine

Request: Hello sweet bean! I'm a relatively new fan of yours and have loved everything you've written about Noah thus far. The last one I read had me thinking of a request? I was wondering what Noah would do if he found out his girlfriend was having an overwhelming day and wanted to cheer her up? Like, there was a mountain of small inconveniences that kept piling up and she was shutting down from her own anxiety

An: Thank you for calling me sweet bean. It's literally my new favorite thing to be called. I hope you enjoy! I tried!

Noah Sebastian master List

Warnings: floof anxiety?

You woke up from a nightmare that doomed your day. Fear and panic gripped your heart. Things went downhill when you found out your alarm had failed, forcing you to hurry to work; your coffee maker had malfunctioned, depriving you of your caffeine boost; and Noah had snatched the last of your favorite breakfast bars last night without letting you know.

You hoped things would improve as you finally got your car to start after several attempts. But you were mistaken.

You got to work and nearly died from a heart attack when you saw the pile of documents and the list of appointments that awaited you. You felt overwhelmed by the work your secretary assigned you as if you were a superhuman lawyer who could handle everything simultaneously.

You wished you could walk away from it all but knew that was not an option. Being a lawyer was already stressful and demanding, and dealing with this extra workload was not making it any easier.

You needed to talk with Amanda, your secretary, and see if some of these could be moved around.

You walk into her office and greet her with a smile; you don't want to be mean or upset her. "Hey," You say, sitting at the chair by her desk. "So I need a favor." You lean over and point to the screen. "Can you please call these two clients and ask if they can come in tomorrow? I have the Taylors coming in at 9 a.m., and the meeting always runs over the scheduled time. If you can start booking them out for at least two hours, that would be amazing."

She nods her head, apologizing, "I'm sorry. I know you've said that before. I'll write it down."

"That's alright, don't worry about it. I just need at least an hour between each meeting so that I can be ready and not rush things, but the Taylors are always here for a long time; they're very thorough and want to know everything that's going on.." You sighed and rubbed your temples. "I'll be in my office if you need me. Please let me know if anything comes up."

You sit at your desk, reviewing papers and bracing yourself for the chaos people will bring you today.

Sometimes, it takes a toll on you, especially when your life is not going smoothly. You glance at the clock and see you have a few minutes before your clients arrive. You decide to text Noah, who always knows how to cheer you up.

Can I come home already? I miss you and could use some aggressive snuggles right now. This day has been shit already.

You smile when he texts you back almost immediately. You know he is an early riser, but you are still impressed by how fast he replies. He must have sensed your urgency.

I'll be here when you get home, baby. You can have all the cuddles you want. I love you. You're a badass; you'll kick the shit out of the day. Ok?

You feel thankful for Noah. He is the best thing that's happened to you. He’s supportive, caring, funny, sexy, and makes you feel loved and appreciated.

On days like this, you wish you could shrink him to a smaller size, put him in your pocket, and carry him around. Whenever you needed him, he would pop out and say words of encouragement and sweet things to you. Your life would be so much easier with a pocket-sized Noah.

You put your phone in the drawer as your office door opens, and Amanda's head pokes through the gap. She is your receptionist and assistant, and she helps you manage your schedule and appointments.

"Your 9 o'clock is here," she says.

You nod your head, "Go ahead and send them in."

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for another session. You hope Noah's words will give you the strength and patience to get through the day.

You storm into the house, slamming the door behind you. You are overwhelmed by emotions. Your hair is soaked from the rain, and your mascara runs down your cheeks. You have had the worst day ever, and all you want is Noah's warm embrace and gentle words. "Noah, are you home?" You call out, your voice cracking.

You hear him reply from the living room. "Yeah, I'm here. Did you take a cab home?"

You can't contain your feelings any longer. You let out a loud sob, toss your bags aside, and hide your face in your hands, crying hysterically.

"Oh, babe," Noah says, getting up and hurrying to you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his chest, where you press your face and cry even harder.

He kisses your hair and strokes your back gently. "Shh, it's ok." He whispers. "I'm here for you."

You shake your head. "I'm over it. Can you just put me out of my misery and put a pillow over my head?"

He chuckles softly, "No, no, no. Come on. I have something for you." He holds your hand and leads you to the dining room, where you see a beautiful bouquet of roses in a vase on the table. He has also ordered Chinese food, your favorite cuisine. You notice your favorite liquor on the counter with other ingredients, indicating that Noah plans to make cocktails for you tonight.

As you gasp, your hands instinctively cover your mouth. Noah's thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze you.

You wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle your face into his chest, feeling his warmth and comfort. "Thank you," you whisper.

Noah kisses the top of your head and rubs your back gently. "Anything for you, princess." He pulls away, and you look up at him, seeing love and kindness in his eyes. "I'm sorry you had such a tough day," he says, kissing your forehead. "Go relax. I'll take care of everything." He pauses briefly, "You're getting a nice back rub tonight, too." He says, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

You smile, walking back to your room and changing into the bathroom, where you wash your face to remove all the smeared makeup.

Sometimes, you wondered how Noah could look at you so lovingly when you look as rough as you did.

After changing, you return to the dining room, where Noah waits patiently. He smiles at you, happy to see you approach. He stands up and scoots out your chair. "Come sit."

You smile at the gesture, excited for the food and fruity mixed drink in front of you. "God, I love you," you say, taking a long sip of your beverage.

Noah laughs, "Me or the drink?"

You lift your eyes to his, "Both, but mostly you."

He chuckles while taking a bite of his food. "So," he says, putting his fork down, "What happened today?"

Your shoulders drop, remembering the annoyance of the day you didn't

want to talk about every little thing, from the coffee pot to your clients not being very understanding and your car breaking down. "Just casual bullshit." You sip your drink, "My car is in the parking lot at work…"

Noah groans, "Again? I thought Folio looked at it?"

"He did, but he's not a miracle worker, and I'm honestly not sure there's any hope for that thing. It's old." You say, forcing a smile. "Let's talk about you."

Noah's eyebrows knit together in frustration as he says, "You always do this." He laughs, but you can hear the edge in his voice. He leans back in his chair and looks at you pleadingly. "I want to hear about your day; in therapy, they say it's good to talk about things. It helps you process and cope with them." He reaches for your hand across the table, his eyes softening.

You shake your head, feeling affection for him. You stand up and gather the empty plates, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, my love, you're not my therapist." You lean down and kiss his cheek, feeling his stubble against your lips. "We can talk about it tomorrow if you want to. But right now I just want you as Noah. Ok?" You giggle as you walk away from him, carrying the dishes to the sink. You drop them in, deciding to deal with them later. You can feel the effects of the alcohol you had with dinner. Your face is warm, and your worries seem distant and trivial. You feel happy and relaxed as you walk back to Noah.

You stand before him, smiling with rosy cheeks and a gentle gaze. "I really do appreciate you." You say sincerely, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins and stands up, holding you close. He takes your hand and leads you to the living room, where he sits on the couch and pulls you down to sit before him. He gently lifts your shirt over your head and tosses it aside, handing you the throw blanket to cover your chest with, knowing you'd get cold. He places his hands on your back and starts to massage your tense muscles with gentle pressure. He draws circles on your skin with his fingers, making you sigh in contentment.

You feel a knot of tension in your chest and decide to share what's been bothering you the most today. "The Taylors said I'm a bad lawyer and won't be using me anymore." You say, finally opening up to him. "They accused me of being incompetent and unprofessional just because I refused to lie for them in court."

Noah's hands freeze for a second, and he curses under his breath. "Dicks." He says before resuming his soothing motions. "You don't need them anyway. You did the right thing, babe. You have integrity and ethics, unlike them."

You let out a deep breath, feeling a bit of relief from his words and touch. "I do, though. I've been working with them for so long, and I hate saying this because I'm not just in it for the money, but they were a huge source of my income. They paid me well, and they had a lot of connections in the industry."

Noah wraps his arms around you and pulls at you, signaling he wants you in his lap. "There'll be others, you don't need people who treat you like shit." He says softly in your ear. "You're an amazing lawyer, and you have a great reputation. You'll find better clients who appreciate you and respect you."

You smile weakly and lean your head on his chest. "That's most of my clientele." You say with a laugh. "Most of them are greedy, selfish, and dishonest. That's why I'm always so thankful to come home to you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Noah kisses the top of your head and whispers, "I love you and I'm always here for you. No matter what."

You smile up at him, feeling his warm breath on your face as you nuzzle close to his neck. He wraps the blanket tighter around your bare chest, making you feel safe and loved. "I know. I feel it, and I'm grateful for it." You whisper, letting him know you appreciate his presence in your life.

He leans his head on yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He kisses your hair softly, making you sigh in contentment. "We'll get everything figured out with your car and your job, and I won't eat your breakfast bars anymore." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You laugh against his neck, feeling his pulse quicken under your lips. "You can eat all the breakfast bars you want if my nights end this perfectly." You say, looking into his eyes and seeing the love and happiness reflected there.

He smiles back at you, pulling you closer for a passionate kiss.

You melt into him, forgetting about all your worries and troubles. All that matters is him and this moment.

You feel his hand caress your cheek, then move down to your waist. He lifts you gently, carrying you to the bedroom. You wrap your legs around him, holding him tight.

He whispers in your ear, "I love you so fucking much."

You smile, feeling the same way. You kiss him again, ready to show him how much you love him.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady