#sorry there's only 2 fics

[dear-ao3]

Alternate Universe - Anime Nosebleeds Are Real

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[lillazyboithings]

Hey y'all! This is my first time participating in the @hatchetfield-bang! This is my art work for @ratsarecute4's fic called Ziria! (Link) Please go and check it out once it's released and make sure to check out the rest of the pieces that will be posted on the official hatchetfield bang account

[laugtherhyena]

Genuinely don't remember how long it had been since i last worked on a Cg edit before this

While I don't think it looks on point with the game's ones, I'm super proud of how this turned out! I've been wanting to make a Cg styled chapter art for a while now :]

[hiemaldesirae]

Alastor manifests a conductor’s hat and dons it. “All aboard! Next stop: Royal Circle and the Morningstar Palace!” His face softens as Vox steps up. He offers his arm. “Shall we? If you ignore the warm, sponginess of the floor, Tim’s insides are quite comfortable.” Vox grins. “Sure. A train ride to an upcoming battle sounds weirdly romantic.” Alastor kisses the other Overlord’s knuckles. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” He whispers. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

- Radio Healed The Video Star, Finale I (by Aspiring_Forest_Witch / @slash-is-my-weakness86)

ive been reading and rereading this fic from exams week actually. i dont know what exactly was put into the story but im assuming it was some sort of crack because this might be hands down the best thing ive ever read. i wanted to draw one of my favourite scenes (the train ride on shortline tim.... if anyone questions my taste just know that we all watched the original hazbin so youve no room to judge) ((good luck on ur job search btw author !! hoping u find one sooner than later, thanks sm for making this fic))

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

Fanon Percy Jackson is canon Leo Valdez and the sooner we correct it the better

[ooowyn]

I was recommended @virahaus's fic Obi-Two and I have not stopped thinking about it since, I want more so bad LMAO pls go read it!!!!!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42717870

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz 💖

more bucktommy the will talk (they're getting there, the conversation went a bit off track lol) - it might be done this week, and then I can focus on the smut, and the buddie fics, and I have a new bucktommy idea inspired by that video of lou barbecuing with his shirt off that I sooo wanna write🙈

prev snippet

___

“Well, yeah, of course.” Buck answers easily, his heartbeat speeding up. He’s a little anxious about putting too much pressure, too many expectations out there, but he also knows that even if he did, they’d get back on track, they’d be fine. And besides, Tommy’s smiling, he doesn’t seem freaked out at all. And that’s after Buck brought up children. But if they’re moving forward with their relationship, they need to know what they want out of life. It seems reasonable to have this conversation this early on.

“Good.” he responds, grinning widely. “Now I won't have to stress about your answer when I ask.” he adds, and Buck feels himself blush, butterflies in his stomach going wild. Oh. Oh. This is- this is real. They’re talking about it, and maybe someday soon- he might marry this man. He will marry this man. Tommy wants him forever. Tommy wants him. Tommy wants to marry him and have children with him, and just be with him. Sometimes it’s still so shocking to Buck that someone as great and amazing as Tommy wants him, but he does. Buck’s not sure he remembers the last time he felt this wanted.

“How- how do you know I won’t ask first?” Buck asks, moving his head slightly closer to Tommy, just enough to look into his beautiful blue eyes. It feels surreal, talking about this, when they only dated for a few months, but it also feels… right. It feels like they’re on the right track to get there one day.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @diazsdimples

[artsyannierose]

Just You, That’s Enough - A Huskerdust Ficlet

Husk sat next to Angel on his bed slowly, golden eyes never leaving his face. Angel had merely only nodded slightly when Husk asked if he would like to talk about his feelings. They’d been “together” for a couple weeks now but Husk had noticed that Angel hadn’t been talking as much about his problems as he used to.

Which of course, was not necessarily a bad thing, but Husk sensed it wasn’t because he didn’t want to talk about it, but rather something else.

“Hey. You can talk when you’re ready. It don’t gotta be right now if you don’t want it to be,” Husk gently rested on hand on his shoulder as Angel took a deep breath. The spider all but flopped backward with a prolonged groan, all four limbs splaying every which way. He scrubbed his top two arms down his face and opened one eye to look at his boyfriend. Nothing but love and tenderness was present in his dilated pupils, and somehow that made Angel feel even more like trash. Though it didn’t stop his heart from betraying him with a flutter at those warm eyes.

“I just…Husk…ugh I ain’t no good with words,” Angel frowned, attempting to organize his thoughts into something coherent. “Just so we’re clear here, this ain’t nothing to do with you,” Angel quickly supplied. Husk was the furthest thing from the problem.

“So then…I haven’t done anythin’ to make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” exclaimed Angel hastily. “It’s all me Husk, I’m such a mess.”

“No baby, no…” Husk sat back against the headboard and motioned for Angel to join him. The exhausted spider easily obliged, curling up in his lap and smushing his face into Husk’s chest with a heavy inhale. Just relaxing in Husk’s arms and smelling the familiar scent of whiskey ever present around him. Husk began running his finger in Angel’s hair, a soft purr emanating from his chest, something that put a contented smile on Angel’s face. Angel cracked his eyes open and stared blankly at the wall for a good moment before speaking.

“It’s just, every guy who’s ever fucked me never wanted anything to do with me afterward, except Val I guess. Which I’m used to, that ain’t the issue. But then baby, you come along and literally drag my standards from rock bottom by being your perfect self and how am I supposed to even react to that?” A dry chuckle escaped Angel’s lips as he spoke. “I mean, you haven’t even tried ta touch me yet, and somehow that’s more romantic than any other dick I’ve ever slept with,” Angel lifted his gaze to meet Husk’s, who was looking at him softly, listening but not saying a word. One hand fisted the fur on Husk’s chest before Angel continued.

“And I wanna return the favor ya know? I wanna be a good boyfriend amore, I wanna be there for you, I wanna help you, I wanna make you feel good,” Angel snickered before adding, “Both in bed and not.”

Husk chuckled at the comment, ruffling the fluff on Angel’s head despite his weak protest. “Well I’m glad ya think I’m doing a good job Angel, you deser-“

“No, I really don’t,” Angel suddenly cut in, annoyance flashing over his features briefly.

The cat stared at him in bewilderment. “Baby, of course you do, don’t-“

“No, I don’t,” Angel repeated through clenched teeth, brows furrowed. Husk opened his mouth to protest but Angel held up a hand to stop him.

“Ya don’t get it Husk! Why should ya have to put up with my stupid bullshit when I can barely even uphold the role of a boyfriend? I come cryin’ ta ya every fuckin’ day and every fuckin’ time ya just fix me right up and pamper me like some fuckin’ princess,” Angel burst out, frustration written all over his face. He got to his knees in front of Husk and snatched his hands with all six of his. “I’m tryna hug ya and kiss ya and listen ta ya and just be a normal fuckin’ boyfriend but it ain’t enough! It ain’t neva’ gonna be enough to pay ya back for everythin’ ya deal with ‘cause of me. Not ta mention I’m used-up sloppy seconds, nothin’ much more than a good one night stand. The fuck do I know about bein’ a romantic partner? My whole gig is bein’ a toy for them fuckers to use ta jerk off or some shit. I fuck guys for a livin’ and then do it again fa’ a bit o’ cash just ta spend it on gettin’ myself high.” Tears began to leak out of Angel’s eyes as he tried to wipe them away, smudging his mascara across his face.

“I dunno how ta love you Husk okay? I-I-I can’t-“ a sob interrupted his rant, but he continued anyway. “I want ya to have someone who’s actually worth ya time, someone who ain’t a slut or a whore who’s always covered in other men’s jizz but there ain’t nothin’ I can do ‘bout it!”

Husk took a breath before trying to speak. “Angel you’re not-“

“And that’s anotha’ thing! You think so fuckin’ highly of me when I know that’s not true — I know it’s not! As long as I’m stuck under that bastard I can’t be anythin’ more than just Hell’s hottest dick-sucker.” And you deserve better Husk, but I’m also a selfish bitch you doesn’t want you ta leave me though you have every reason to…”

Husk closed his hand around two of Angel’s, willing him to meet his eyes. The eyes that met his were wet and red, slightly puffy, and had eight streaks down his pale-furred face. He lifted his other hand to Angel’s cheek, not missing how the spider leaned his face into his palm.

“Fuck, I didn’t want ya ta see me like this…” Angel mumbled, his face beginning to flush.

Husk’s thumbs wiped away the stains on his face as he caressed Angel’s cheek. “Do you have to be such a fuckin’ gorgeous crier? Geez Angel…” he muttered, so low Angel could barely hear. That’s all it took for Angel’s white face and chest to resemble a tomato as he shoved his face back into Husk’s chest and whined in embarrassment.

“This is exactly what I’m talkin’ about kitty…do you gotta be so damn sexy?” Angel grumbled, voice muffled by the fluff. The deep rumble of Husk’s laugh sent a shiver down his body from their point of contact.

Despite the light-hearted moment, Angel felt a tear involuntarily slide down his face, further wetting Husk’s fur. Husk delicately placed a finger underneath Angel’s chin and tilted his head up to him. Husk looked into his eyes, then leaned down and kissed Angel — right on the mouth — and let his lips linger atop the spider’s. He felt Angel sigh into his mouth and relax his lips on Husk’s. Husk barely pulled away, their mouths still touching before he all but whispered, a secret only intended for the two of them.

“What makes ya think I don’t love ya enough to love the ugly parts too?”

Angel only blinked in response, fuchsia eyes widening.

“Amore mio, you’re my everything, and I mean every part of you. You taught me what it’s like to love someone again even after I lost all hope of that. Ti amo Angel, sono innamorato di te, the good parts and the bad. I love you and how kind and loyal you really are, even after everything that’s happened. I love you and your habit of scrunching your eyebrows when you’re mad. I love you and your obsession with pigs. I love you when you are strong enough to endure the challenge thrown your way. I love the little heart patterns in your fur. I love your adorable smile. I love that you like to wear pink clothes. I love every part of you. We’re in this together.”

The tears only fell more from Angel’s face, but he wasn’t sobbing. Rather he looked utterly enamored and in love with the man cradling him at the moment. He laughed, and Husk wiped the streaming tears away but they only kept coming. Angel laughed harder and threw himself onto Husk, knocking the other demon backward and knocking the wind out of him too. Angel took the cat’s face in his hands and kissed him happily, smiling all the while. Husk melted into the kiss as Angel’s other arms wrapped around Husk, bringing them as close together as they could possibly be. Angel broke away, unable to stop laughing and his eyes absolutely twinkling with joy.

“Cos'ho fatto per essere così fortunato?” Angel smiled at his boyfriend, resting on top of him and tracing circles on his chest.

“Ti amo tanto,” Husk replied simply, wrapping his wings around Angel’s thin figure and squishing his cheeks. Angel collapsed on Husk’s chest and hugged him close.

“Anch’io,” was his muffled reply, as he snuggled further into Husk’s fur. Husk’s tail entwined itself in Angel’s long legs as the two held each other close, simply enjoying the feeling of each other.

And that’s all they really needed to be: Being together, that’s enough.

(Fic inspired by this ask!!)

[tapakah0]

[icezeebee]

This all comes from @dilatorywriting ‘s work please go check them out they’re awesome! I wanted to make something for their 4k special so I made a request and made up my mind to draw most of it.

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[lycheedr3ams]

Sorry but in the most feminist way, König is an alpha male. I can’t help myself

[cryptocism]

yoohoo, I just need you to know you've ruined my life✌️ /j but like. finished reading frequency, what three days ago now? and since the moment I put it down, I have been. directionless. listless. I am consumed by, not DESPAIR, because despair is too passionate a word but. dissatisfaction? I miss the life I lived while I was still reading it. which is honestly rather appropriate considering some of the themes in the fic. I miss the person I was when half of my mind existed in the realm of the au. I fear I may never get over it and I may never recover the life I once had before this fic ruined me for all others, but I also cannot bring myself to regret reading it even if I never feel satisfaction again. I have tasted ambrosia, and the bread and wine of men shall forever be ash upon my tongue. pay my therapy bill.

i know these asks were sent in july but i love them and want to immortalize before they get buried in my inbox

first of all thank you so much!!! frequency has been one of my favourite projects to do over the past couple years i love that ppl are so into this absurdly niche fic. (i cannot pay ur therapy u simply must reread it forever rip (i mean writing it was like 50/50 self-indulgence and catharsis which means maybe reading it does the same thing lmaoo))

second yes! yeah it was Six who changed the timeline. a big old theme, possibly the main theme, of the whole fic is about change and who gets to create it. Six mirrors Thad in the ways that he believes himself unworthy of importance, and that the capacity to create change is inherently barred from him because of who and what he is.

so it was really important that Six was the one to make the choice to try change things - the guy whos entire powerset relies on being as inconsequential as possible. it shatters the original timeline, it results in his death, it causes a lot of very bad ripple effects, but he also saves Nathaniel. who saves Jude. who together both save Thad - who saves Bart and CRAYDL and defeats Three and discovers his own capacity for change in the process.

that was sort of the point of the whole "the spectrum of change is a horizon, not a tower" litany. there's no hierarchy. anybody can go towards it, they just gotta choose where they're going.

Six doesn't really save the day, but by wrenching the prewritten tragedy off its course, he creates the opportunity for Thad & co. to save it themselves.

[sistersofsilver]

broke: nemesis tops melinoë

woke: melinoë tops nemesis

bespoke: they make a competition out of this too. its to keep it fair. the terms and conditions of that competition are as varied as normal.

[newtscamandersbf]

the stitched boy from mha reflects the tragedy that was tomuras life, showing what couldve been of tenko. in this essay, i will