#short writes

[soukokumychildren]

Chuuya, after seeing something forbidden: Aaaaalright. Get the bleach. Dazai: Pokes out of corner and throws the bleach up into the air like a beer toast

[sheeperzzz]

Thinking about posting my writes here, so I'm gonna start off with this! A little thing focused on Venture and some lore I have for a story I wanna try out :]

TW: Mentions of violence, threats and impending doom

Venture's chest heaved, the drill weighing heavy in their hands. They stared at the impressive display of bloody and bruised bodies. It shook them to their core knowing they did that much damage in the span of seconds. They steeled themself, shutting down their thoughts. They came here for a reason.

Venture turned to the Queen, who sat upon her throne. Her almost orange eyes bore into Venture, burning with the intensity of a hunter staring at her prey. Venture didn't allow the Queen's stare to unnerve them.

"Ma'am," Venture began, their voice more pleading than they intended, "you have to listen to me! You can't just keep ignoring wh-"

"Shut your mouth," the Queen snapped, her voice laced with venom. "You aren't gonna tell me how to rule my people."

"Your people could die if you don't listen!" Venture argued. Their hope for co-operation was fleeting fast. "Something bad is going to happen soon, and everyone n-"

Venture's voice was cut off by a knife flying by their head. Their skin stung. They instantly put their hand on the side of their face, checking for bleeding. Venture looked back at the Queen, who now stood at the ledge of where her throne sat. Her eyes were blazing with fury and distaste for Venture.

"I said get out of my town, mole," the Queen growled out through gritted teeth. "I don't want to see your face around here again."

The knife darted past Venture's face again, sticking to the Queen's palm. Venture opened their mouth as if they were about to argue, but nothing came out. Defeat stole their voice. Venture's head lowered, but their eyes stabbed daggers into the Queen.

"Don't come looking for help when your people are hurt," they warned. An axe was thrown at their head, but the axe came into contact with nothing but rocks from where they once stood. The ground was disturbed and cracked, making a trail that followed where the archaeologist's path headed.

Finally away from the throne room, or whatever it could be called, Venture resurfaced with a dark expression. They walked silently through the busy streets, their drill making grating noises as it dragged across the wounded sidewalk. Frustration and hopelessness made them drag their feet. How were they supposed to help someone who wouldn't listen?

'She wasn't thinking about how many lives were at stake, she was just thinking that I was threatening her power! Which I wasn't!' Venture thought to themself, groaning audibly with exasperation. They ran a hand through their hair, ridding it of the pebbles and sand that were dusted in it from their burrow earlier. They stopped walking for the moment to take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

Venture's tired eyes wandered over the street and catwalks. Countless people, countless clueless people, were walking about without a care in the world, not knowing of what was to come. Their lives would be threatened, and even taken, if nothing happened before they arrived. They all had no clue what was going to happen. Venture didn't know what to do. They couldn't make a scene; that'd just make everyone think they were a nutcase. That didn't go so well in Numbani, when they had taken the focus from a speech to warn the city of the oncoming onslaught. They thought Venture was crazy! ...Until the onslaught actually came. Lives were lost, more were damaged. Who was to say the same wouldn't happen here in Junkertown? Venture needed something convincing, someone with some level of authority over the wastelanders to help them with their cause, but there was no one. There was nothing they could do.

Something in the corner of their eye caught their attention. Venture glanced over and was greeted with a wall covered in wanted posters. There was another poster with the same men on them, labeled "DO NOT ADMIT", followed by "SHOOT ON SIGHT" with the words in red and underlined twice. Venture recognized both. The pig-faced man was a big fella named Roadhog, and the other was a much smaller fella called Junkrat. Venture knew them both from previous expeditions where they had run into each other. They knew how rambunctious and rowdy the duo were, and how much attention they could draw to themselves…

An idea sparked in their mind.

The Queen couldn’t ignore her subjects.

[lilliesand-valleys]

[sing-you-fools]

me: this is a background character who's in one scene, has two lines, and is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story. i am going to stop obsessing over what to name him and use the random name generator on behindthename.com. i am going to accept the first thing it gives me and move the fuck on.

behindthename.com:

[loveelizabeths]

love elizabeth s.

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[reidiot]

don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude

[delicacysblog]

“what was the most pain you have ever felt”

healing from someone, i once thought i would heal with

[hopelessvalentines]

“nostalgia is a villain that we are told is a hero, all it ever does is hurt.”

[soukokumychildren]

So, I was going to make a picture for this, but I can't find it in me to draw something so simple yet so intricate (why, my brain, why???). Basically you guys are gonna have to use your own TV in your brains for this one :(( Otherwise, enjoy! :)

Ranpo slipped on his suit with ease, practically bounding with excitement as he neared the room where Soukoku stored themselves for the time being; the couch they claimed promptly as theirs, awaiting something, what, perhaps, Ranpo thought was himself. He skid past the barrier to peek within the room and alert them of his presence-- Only to be met with darkness. It oozed like tendrils out from the area, despite being well-lit it felt like the darkest corner of the earth that Ranpo accidentally intruded, trampled upon. His eyes cracked open, green narrowing on silhouettes of what hit him to be the most dangerous men in Yokohama. Perhaps it never struck him before. But it was the sight before him that opened his eyes, quite literally.

Chuuya seemed to be the first he noticed, framed in shadow, which there should be very little of, tricks of the mind, perhaps, added to the edge of darkness that slithered off both he and Dazai. He held his cigarette gracefully yet carefully between his ring and middle finger in his right hand, squeezing the blunt gently, but not enough to set the burning remains of his cigarette ashes to scatter against his lap. The way he held the arch in his back, how his wings were tucked in regal arches, it spoke volumes of a man who could take the world for himself, not just from looks alone. Nothing was a set back as every curve, seam, shadow, added grace to the figure. He was a man who knew he could take, could take as much as he desired. He was strong. There was no doubt.

Especially the man beside him, a gaze dark, yawning like the abyss, one eye carrying the wretched feeling of death that dragged along the shadows strewn across his body. It was how he held his disappointed expression, perhaps at nothing in particular, his cheek resting against his right hand. His leg elegantly perched over his knee, ankle barely breeching past the point of the beginning of his calves. Even the simple black opal that rested against his left shoulder seemed to emit something akin to an eerie feeling, like another eye settling into his soul. Not to mention the jacket slung over Dazai's shoulders acted like a cape of darkness, shrouding him within the folds of the dreary feeling that traveled off of both of them in waves, almost pushing Ranpo back a few feet with their gazes. No light was held within either of them. Chuuya took a long drag of his cigarette, slowly tipping his head back and rolling his eyes upward as the nicotine hit what possibly appeared to be the force of a truck, making the redhead really immerse himself in said hit. He tilted his head back to Ranpo, dark eyes resettling on his form. His corruption scars thrummed with a burst of red energy, running up along his arms, neck, cheeks, then the side of his forehead before they returned to their raw, red skin-like tint once more. "Do you need something?" Drawled he, looking down his nose at Ranpo as if he were inferior whilst blowing smoke out from his mouth, much like a dragon preparing to release its fire; and Ranpo hadn't felt anything more than a roach under the gaze of the two. Dazai remained silent, intent on simply remaining watchful, cautious of every breath, move, even the drift of any hair follicles in the very room they resided in. He appeared to be on high alert. "I-I was gonna ask if you two wanted to go to the cafe…" He trailed off, swallowing harshly. Clearly, this was the worst time of all to intrude. What a mistake he'd made. Chuuya didn't respond, only going back to looking at his cigarette, lightly brushing the orange tip against his lips before taking a long drag, letting Dazai handle the question.

"We'll come down in a bit," Dazai spoke for Chuuya, dark undertones unlike Ranpo has ever heard. The muscles in his legs tightened; though it was hard to make out from all the folds of the thick, expensive fabric ensnaring his legs, Ranpo was one to deduct all, and could tell from the measly twitch what had gone on underneath. He was starting to feel an increasing dread that wouldn't shake itself off, no matter how hard he tried.

Chuuya snagged the cigarette from his mouth, the corner of his lip lifting into a scowl, revealing a sharp fang, used to slice into flesh and crush bone. He proceeded to present Ranpo with a dirty look, none of which he should have received, for he had done nothing but simply attempt to invite the two to a delightful afternoon. Dazai seemed to skim over Ranpo's features, bored with the expressions handed to him. He looked as though he was already searching for a new toy to tease, to play with, to make dance, to kill and or use to how he saw fit; Ranpo did not fit that current catagory. "Maybe later," the brunette spoke coldly, observing Chuuya's cigarette and snatching it up, looking to take a nice long inhale from the blunt as well and as much as he could muster. When Chuuya lost the cigarette, he didn't seem to at all notice, resuming on placing his arm to drape across a knee, raised to cradle the redheads forearm when it grew dreary; though, no such event happened, for the strength and stamina Chuuya carried, he could more than likely hold the position all day with a series of weights keeping him pinned to the spot.

Ranpo tried to throw off the memories of Chuuya single-handedly throwing down one of the toughest, biggest brutes that Ranpo's ever seen with a simple kick, looking as though he barely so much as put a single percentage of effort behind it, yawning for an added effect before slicing his head off with a simple flick of his wrist. No blood even splattered across his flawless outfit, as though he himself knew no part of his body could or would be tarnished.

"Y-yeah. Sure. Later." Ranpo stammered uneasily, not sure what fueled his voice to crack under the pressure, even if the answer was right infront of him. Perhaps he didn't want to acknowledge the obvious. He watched Dazai slide his eye shut and take a rather long drag, much like his significant other, exhaling the smoke through his nose. His eyes lightly darted to Ranpo, as if to ask meaningfully: "why are you still here?" The black-haired man asked himself that very question, turning his body before his head followed suit, suddenly feeling the need to evacuate the office as soon as possible, throwing open the Agency door and taking his leave in a rushed manner, the door closing not-so-hurriedly behind.

[mischievous-thunder]

Meanwhile Wade:

[samaraxmorgan]

Your roommate Sukuna can’t stop staring at your lips. It’s not his fault, he’s never seen you wear lipstick before and now all of a sudden you have this glossy red sheen drawing his eyes to you.

He caught you leaning towards the mirror, mouth open in a small oh as you slowly glided the red gloss over your plush lips, and he just about froze in his tracks. Your eyes lazily half lidded as you focused all your attention onto getting perfectly straight lines, completely zoned in and not even noticing him behind you watching your reflection in awe. And god help him when you smacked your lips together, tacky tinted gloss stringing your top and bottom lips together for hardly a second before snapping away.

And now you’re sitting across from him on the couch, nonchalantly picking at your nails while you tell him… what were you telling him about again? It’s hard to focus when the only thing on his mind is how pretty you look in red. You pucker your lips and push them up underneath your nose, and when you offhandedly mention your lipgloss smelling like cherries he fears he might just faint.

Does it taste like cherries too? Sukuna wants nothing more than to glide his tongue over your lips and find out. To feel your lips stick to his own when he presses them into you, leaving a tacky cherry residue for him to swipe his tongue over. For you to leave a sticky red tinted trail from his mouth to his tattooed jaw. To have that pretty gloss that you carefully perfected end up smudged on the corners of your mouth, swollen red lips wrapped around his-

“Sukuna! You’re not even listening are you?”

He blinks in surprise, his eyes shooting up to meet your narrowed ones, “Huh?”

“I’ll be at work so you’ll need to let the guys in to fix the water heater,” You lean forward and annunciate each syllable with a gentle smack to his chest, “Don’t! For-get! I’m so sick of taking cold showers.”

A cold shower seems to be exactly what Sukuna needs right now.

Your Roommate Sukuna series masterlist here!!

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!! Divider by @adornedwithlight

[clairiko]

i had a dream recently that wild used the four sword and its magic split him into his past, present and future selves 🤔 so ofc i had to draw this concept

[mammonsrockstargf]

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m hiding,”

...

“Can I join?”

It looks comical, the way Mammon tries to fit inside your closet as well. There’s barely room for him, but somehow he manages to squeeze his long limbs into the small space. Once he’s sat, he turns his head slightly to look at you.

“Who are we hiding from?”

His blue eyes practically light up the place, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Tentatively you inch a little closer and he opens his legs so you can slot between them, your back against his chest. You lean into the embrace, letting him wrap his arms around you. You can feel the beating of his heart next to your ear.

“I don’t know,” you mutter. You watch the wall of the closet, eyes trailing the curves and patterns of the wood. “Everyone,” you say.

Mammon hums. He presses a gentle kiss to your hair. You grab a hand from your waist, deciding to play with his fingers instead. In difference from his usual white, they’re painted the colour of your eyes. Yours matches with a mix of blue and yellow. All stolen from Asmo of course.

(He let you steal them. Mammon was not very discreet. You had to make up for it with a spa day the next weekend.)

Slowly you interwine your fingers with Mammon’s, leaning back to rest your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

“Were ya hiding from me too?”

...

“No, I would never hide from you.”

[loveelizabeths]

- 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚜.