#t: main story

[rt2417]

[Main Story 2] 20.07 Faust & Lennox

Really really quick TL of this part of chapter 7. I’ll fix this up with fancy HTML and more pics later... www

preface: faust wakes up in the western palace. first off he’s like “where’s shino? nero and heath?” and leno is like they’re all fine don’t worry. leno tells him where they are etc etc.

Faust: …I’m not sure I fully follow. 

Lennox: Suddenly a lot of things happened all at once…

Faust: And Figaro-sama? Isn’t he the one who saved me?

Lennox raises an eyebrow. An instant too late, I realized I was speaking like I did in old times. 

While I try to cover up my mistake, Lennox laughs quietly, shaking his shoulders.

As I watch the smile dawn on his face, I feel at peace.

Faust: I must convey my gratitude to him. Despite my audacious attitude, he still endured it with so much grace and warmth.

Lennox: I think Figaro-sama wasn’t bothered at all. Rather, he looks to be quite pleased about it. 

Faust: Pleased?

Lennox: I don’t know the reason, but that man seems like he’d be pleased even if he was walked all over. 

Faust: .......

Lennox: Was I being misleading?

Faust: You’ve grown close.

Lennox: It seems that way…… How do I say this… It’s thanks to you. 

I’ve seen the two of them having light hearted chats side by side, many times in the Wizard Manor. 

The scenes were peaceful and pleasant, but it was almost like the two people were strangers to me.

Their daily lives are unknown to me. Existing in their everyday world, there was a hint of mutual trust around them.

I didn’t want to destroy that peaceful scene by approaching them.

Perhaps I’m being too forward in drawing such a conclusion.

I was lonely and confused. I didn’t understand how to interact with them; the two who had become Southern Wizards. 

Faust: Leno… Why did Figaro leave us behind? 

Faust: Have you asked about it? 

Lennox: I have. However, I think Faust-sama should ask himself. 

Lennox: That man… I think it would be an enlightening life experience for him. 

Upon hearing the disrespectful remark, I can only stare at Lennox. 

Lennox looks awkward, averting his gaze. 

Lennox: I sincerely apologize…… To the one who is Faust-sama’s mentor. 

Faust: No, it’s fine. I suppose you consider him a friend. 

With our long-standing and intricate relationship, we were both respectful of one another. 

We held eye contact for a while, and before we knew it, we were laughing together. 

Quietly, Lennox’s fingers tighten as he takes my hand in his. 

Lennox: ……I’m thankful you’re safe… 

Faust: I apologize for worrying you…… You always come running to my side during serious matters. 

Faust: Thank you, for everything.

Lennox flashes a warm smile. Then, for a moment, an impish smile crosses his face. 

Faust: ……What?

Lennox: No... Do you mind?

Faust: It doesn’t matter, just say it.

Lennox: I’ve gotten particularly skilled in searching for you. 

I was hard pressed for a response. Lennox used the burden of 400 years in such a casual jesting manner. 

Lennox’s expression changes, and he clears his throat. 

Lennox: I apologize. I'll summon Shino and the others. 

Faust: Right. I’m relying on you.

[rocko-newjeans]

I don’t draw his small boy form enough even though that’s the height he’s usually supposed to be at.

He’s only like an apple tall so be nice to him.

[clown-friend-gt]

could you imagine a g/t cinderella story? like two characters who meet while they're the same size, but one of them is secretly a giant/tiny? whether it's through a spell or sizeshifting or whatever but for one night they get to go to an event where everyone is normally bigger/smaller than them. and they meet someone there and hit it off but then the clock strikes midnight and they have to run away. but instead of leaving behind a slipper their love interest catches a glimpse of them at their true size just before they get away

imagine a borrower-turned-human shrinking back down to their normal size and slipping back into the palace walls. imagine a giant-turned-human slowly growing back to their normal size and leaving an accidental trail of destruction in their wake? there's so many other possibilities, those are just some off of the top of my head

I have an AU I'm writing that has a few chapters that incorporate some of these ideas, but those characters technically know each other before they meet at the ball. I'd like to see a story where the characters meet for the first time at the ball, so I wanted to share this idea with everyone here. let me know what you think!

[charlietheepicwriter7]

I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because

this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.

he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.

then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.

this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.

Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!

And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.

He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...

This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.

Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.

He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.

He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.

Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)

he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.

they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."

Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.

Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce

Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.

No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.

Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags

[distort-t]

— BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND

Will watch and admire from afar, though she will look away and pretend she wasn’t if you look her way.

Says she isn’t the jealous type but will stare down anyone that comes too close to what’s hers.

Not a fan of physical affection unless she initiates it.

Will bring random gifts home that you mentioned liking.

Deflects compliments.

”My hair looks good? Well, that’s because i finally put the effort in to style it.”

Messy mascara and tinted lip stains.

Would rather not talk to others and instead lets her partner take control over their social life.

Loyal. Doesn’t even look someone else’s way. A man tried to flirt with her and she shot him a dirty glare and stalked away, back to her partner.

“I don’t like the way they look at you.”

”Come on, just talk to them a little.” “I’d rather burn.”

Blunt, most definitely socially unacceptable, humour.

Laughs when children falls.

Coffee in the early hours of the morning.

Not very open with her emotions.

”hm? Don’t worry about me, everything is fine.”

”I would rather watch the world burn than to see you hurt.”

(MxF) You may be the man of the relationship, but she has final say.

(FxF) She leads the relationship and takes care of the trivial matters.

Probably has complicated issues and doesn’t want you to be around her family.

”It has nothing to do with you, they’re just.. complicated.”

”Can we talk about them another time? I’m trying to enjoy my morning.”

Not for the faint of heart.

Has a mean streak—she tries for you, but she has her days.

”Can you just leave me alone??”

Her problems build up until she’s a statue staring at the wall, vacant of the woman she was.

As the relationship progresses, she opens up to you.

”I didn’t tell you these things because.. look, does it matter?”

Refuses to admit to your face that she didn’t trust you.

On that matter, she has crippling trust issues.

Wary of most things, doesn’t trust anyone around you.

”Why do you care?”

”Can’t you just stay away from them?”

”It’s none of my business.”

—

[befuddled-calico-whump]

after he screws up one too many jobs, Hunter's posse kicks him out in a pretty permanent way

(less busy image and some ✨lore✨ under the cut )

Rex's crew had a plot to take over a sheep ranch up north and escape the desert, but a little slipup ruined everything. The gang took a symbolic approach to punishing the weak link: forcibly "shearing" part of Hunter's head and notching his ear, then tying him outside to die.

Even though the ensuing monsoon is unpleasant and leaves him sick, it ends up saving his life

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Time Patrol Bon (T.P. BON)

S1 currently on Netflix, S2 broadcast July 17

Directed by Masahiro Andou, Studio BONES Based on manga by Fujiko F. Fujio (Doraemon)

"The mission of Time Patrol is to save lives. But what we can do isn't anything significant. We must avoid the risk of changing history." "Nevertheless..." "Nevertheless, we the Time Patrol Agents, shall keep saving lives."

[kentocalls]

fushiguro toji | love you a latte ♡ sfw. soft toji w/established relationship. fluff for a WIP. inspied because i wanted to enter @tsukimefuku's JK foodies and goodies.

mornings have become a fast favorite ever since you’ve turned his space into your home. he’s wrapped in a marigold comforter that feels lighter than air and softer than clouds. maybe he should invest in real cotton or bamboo fibers or whatever you were deliberating over. funnily enough, the same heavily fretted comforter is so viciously pulled off him by your sleeping form, he feels his chest fill with warmth, even in your sleep you’re no less eager to glue to his skin.

toji smiles soft as he watches you start to shift, it’s way too earlier for you to be up. it should be toji’s usual hour to head out for his leg day but he’s finding less and less reasons to leave you alone in the mornings. afterall, this is your third attempt to resettle in dreamland.

he’s used to it by now, the nights you don’t sleep dead like a log from grading assignments you’re rolling along his extra large california king sized bed. there’s nothing california sized about it since toji is relegated to his tiny slice as you roam free. exploring the vastness of comfort foam and some spring technolog that’s done wonders for toji’s back. but somehow it’s not giving the relief you need, body still bending and turning and stretching. damn, can he get you into those positions too? or is conscious you somehow less flexible than asleep you? he wonders if you dream of dancing, your arms and toes stretch, extend prettily like a ballerina

except your face scrunches when somehow you know you’ve drifted too far. legs swirl and sway to find him, body swimming into his side; when he’s close you breathe in deep, head bobbing under his arm, then on top and honestly, toji’s can’t keep watch. he’s knows you won’t get comfortable without his help, he pulls a leg up and over his hips, as the other snakes around on its own. and you’re so good for him, even in your sleep; easily laying your weight onto him, head nestled on his chest, the top of your head close enough to his lips.

he gently eases a few stray hairs from his mouth and out of your face and waits for the rhythmic deep breathing that lulls him back to his own rest. does he dream? if he does, they’re ones he has have been led by your soft breathing. maybe he dreams of a boat or a picnic, it’s all forgotten by the time he wakes up.

and he does, try his best, not to jolt awake when the sun is too annoying to ignore. he’s gotten better since sharing a bed with you, he doesn’t startle awake with violence. now it’s more of a quick jerky motion that’s soothed as soon as he touches your skin.

on autopilot he moves his hands but is met with his own skin? his own chest? he reaches out across the mattress to find it cold. like you’ve been missing for hours. despite all the logical reasoning, panic sets in. where are you? why aren’t you next to him? did you fall off again? he moves like a lion, sprawled over the edge of the bed but he’s met with his own discarded clothing.

head assessing the rest of the room and nada. you’re not in here.

he hears his expensive coffee machine whirl and exhales, falling flat onto the mattress. the sheets smell like you and that almond lotion you adore and he takes an extra deep inhale before getting up.

padding out to his walnut and cream kitchen, you’re moving about the giant island and following a video about — latte art?

he leans onto the island, takes in your form while you concentrate, practice how to move your wrists with an empty class and milk container. he takes the plate of french toast and his favorite fruit over to his dinning room table. another one of your purchases that breathes order into his abode. he’s never really eaten at a proper dinning table unless formally meeting a client at thei home but now he can’t seem to eat anywhere else. no more takeouts on the couch or coffee in the bedroom. you like eating together and that’s it for him.

he eats slowly, still watching you hum a song and repeat the latte art video. perhaps you’re a teacher now because you’re such a diligent student. but your eyes meet his and your voice is full of amber honey, “oh! good morning!”

bright, you’re so bright and walk ever so slowly. eyes moving between him and the mug of coffee? latte? that you gently gently gently place in front of him. it looks…like a circle. he tries to offer the best smile he can, “thanks sunshine.”

you look at him expectantly, “it’s a heart.”

he pulls you in for one kiss, then another and another before you push away with a pout. “it looks like a heart right?”

“whatever you say, doll. the circles a heart.” he’ll erase what a circle is if you deem. you wipe at some syrup on his lips and give the nape of his neck a small squeeze. attempt to make your way back to the big kitchen but he wants more of you, hands firm. he’s been robbed of his morning touches. hasn’t touched the skin of your back, hasn’t gripped your thighs and it’s part of his day off routine. he skipped leg day for cuddles and keeping you on his lap—why are you being so torturous and walking away?

you don’t even like lattes.

“we had a barista visit the school, they said i had a real talent for this and i should swing by his cafe. said he’d hire me on the spot now i think he was lying.” toji hums.

“yeah? he say that with dreamy eyes?”

you shoot him a look, he glares back, watches you replay the barista interaction and your hushed “toji, no.” has him laughing big.

“doll, i’d say anything to get you on a date too.”

“am ? that bad?” you’re bringing another mug over to him, moving at a snails pace but stop your face so focused on the mug that toji has to take pity on you. stomps over with his tall self and bends to look at the second attempt at the latte art.

“it’s a…rabbit?”

your shoulders drop and you click your tongue before taking a giant gulp, toji’s hand on your hip, thumb massaging gently. “i’m good for nothing.”

you’re being pouty and dramatic but the barista really had you believing you had a talent for this! “could’ve made more money on the weekend.” you sigh, toji moves the mug into the kitchen island, long strong arms pulling you close.

“you don’t need the money doll, i’ll buy whatever it is.”

“it’s not the money toji.” another sigh and toji doesn’t like it, has a hand under your chin, eyes serious. if its something on this green earth, he’ll bring to your feet. you just have to ask.

“thought i could work part time when you’re working your longer jobs, something to pass the time.” oh.

you get lonely.

toji pauses. he hasn’t felt lonely since…the day he met you. the time before he knew you feels like a fog. he wasn’t really living them, just getting through day by day. “sorry doll.”

you shake your head, pulling him close. it’s silent safe for your breathing and the angry expensive coffee machine whirling. when you do pull away from him he follows, hands lingering on your hip, makes you both waddle like a penguin and you can’t help but laugh.

it’s his favorite sound now, bounces off his spacious walls, fills the apartment with joy.

“teach me how.”

“toji—“

“you’re really good at teaching, so teach me how.” He grabs an empty mug, “and when i do a really good job, you’ll give me a reward.”

☕️

toji leaving the curtain open doesn’t usually happen, he’s super duper considerate of your schedule and knows sleeping in is a rare luxury given you’re a teacher and have to report to school earlier than most people expect. but he left the fucking curtain, blind AND window open. the gang of crows outside better be fighting a crazy battle because they have interrupted your sweet sweet dream. you and toji had robbed a bank and moved to a cold country. it was magical, you had a talking pet tiger.

you convince yourself robbing a bank is not a good idea and that you enjoy teaching rich spoiled kids because you’re being the emotional parental figure they need. you’re doing good in the world! you kick toji’s side of the bed, its so cold and that makes you grumpy. you wanted cuddles.

you’re as fresh as possible when you stumble into the kitchen. you made a many latte arts over the weekend and the despite toji working hard to put that caffeine to use, slept escaped you. your legs are sore, hips carrying the badge of his hands as you press the power button for the machine.

once the sleep is rubbed from your eyes you notice the steamer spout is dirty. you rush to wipe it clean, knowing that stupid part of the machine is the most sensitive and then you realize your mugs are all gone. you weren’t that hyped on caffeine, you cleaned everything diligently. you have a routine, part of it includes setting things up for tomorrow so that your mornings move as easily as possible.

it’s only when you turn around do you notice all seven of your mugs lined up in a row. all of them have latte art that spell out “i love u ♡”

and a huge wad of cash.

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[might-be-tiny-gt]

Last year I wrote a story about a streamer who shrinks based on chat donations. I meant it as a one shot, but guys…. GUYSSSSS.

I think about this story ‘s universe a lot. I have lore notes just collecting dust and I need to share it or I might go absolutely mad XD Made these visuals charts to get the basics across but if you’re interested in my lore and semantic ramblings, feel free to read below the cut.

Consider this my unofficial pitch bible for Down Played.

General premise: Monica Diaz is Twitch streamer with steadily growing fan base. Her tag is MiniMushroom and her aesthetic is cottage core. She loves all things magical and tiny, especially toadstool mushrooms, that’s the image most associated with her “brand.” She’s approached by a mysterious benefactor who has developed technology specifically for Monica to test and utilize for her streams. It’s called Byte-Syzed Tech and it connects to a user’s twitch stream and based on the user’s preferences, gives the audience the ability to change the user’s height. The one shot I wrote takes place during Monica’s first live use of Byte-Syzed tech on stream. If I were to develop this into a full story I’d probably go back a bit and start around when Monica is first approached about using Byte-Syzed tech then continue to follow Monica adjusting to using Byte-Syzed more often. How she deals with the size change on camera, off camera, how her social and personal life are affected, all that good stuff. I think it would like a slice of life feel good kinda story.

Characters:

- Monica - Main character and primary user of Byte-Syzed tech. Surprisingly enough, she’s actually a law school grad who probably would have put her degree to use if she didn’t accidentally gain a massive following on twitch. Funny how life works out. She stands at 6’4 and always was fascinated with the idea of being small (Basically, she’s a g/t nerd who doesn’t know what g/t is) so being gifted Byte-Syzed and being able to use it on stream is kinda a dream come true.

- Kim - Monica’s girlfriend, roommate, and stream moderator. Kim and Monica were high school sweethearts but drifted apart in college due to personal matters in Kim’s life including having to drop out of college. Kim and Monica rekindled their relationship a few years later and Kim cites Monica and her encouragement as a big reason why she’s been able to get her life back together. She’s currently back in college working on getting her degree in Mathematics.

- The Twitch Team- Moni hosts solo streams but also very often collabs with three of her online friends. Ariel (@Lifeisthebubbles), a Vtuber who is the only one Moni has met in person. Corey (@McDonuts) an NB asmrist on youtube who started streaming games for fun. And Phin (@UrguyPhin) Corey's bf and the competitive gamer of the four. All three of them were streaming with Monica when she first used Byte-Syzed and have since gotten used to pausing their games so an ever shrinking Monica can adjust her set up.

- The Benefactors- Keeping their (Plural, there are two of them) exact identity to myself for the time being, but basically they’re mad scientists with the best intentions. Their antics have garnered attention across the internet as they have created and gifted inventions to up and coming online creators that seem to defy all laws of physics. Anti Gravity chambers, a literal money tree, a mask the morphs the wearer’s face, and now the Byte-Syzed size changing tech. Despite their inventions going viral, their identities have remained hidden. So what is their deal? They’re just big fans of these creators and for lack of drawing skills have gifted them weird inventions instead. Nerds… Due to the nature of Byte-Syzed and the possible effects it can have on the human body, Monica and Kim remain in close contact with them.

How Byte-Syzed Works in Universe: This I wrote tons of notes about when I first thought of the idea. Byte-Syzed can be divided into three key components; The program, the arm band monitor, and the sync suit.

The Program is installed on the user’s computer and connects directly to the arm band monitor and sync suit. The program has user friendly set up that allows the user to input the direction of height change (Shrink or Grow), The minimum or maximum height change, How height change occurs (By views, chat commands, donations, etc.), and rate of height change (How much height is gained or lost with each instance of viewer interaction.) EX: If height is based on donations, the user can set it up so they lose 1 inch for every 10 dollars donated. They can set the minimum height to 6 inches, so once they��ve received enough donations that they have shrunk down to 6 inches, Byte-Syzed will hold at that height. More donations may come in after, but the height will remain at 6 inches for the duration of the stream.)

The Arm Band Monitor, is the device the physically changes the user’s height after connecting to the Byte-Syzed Program. It also monitors and display’s the user’s current height and vitals. All data collected from the arm band will then be saved and can be referenced later if the band is connected to the computer. The arm band must be kept on at all times during active use and active reset of Byte-Syzed. Active use is the time in which Byte-Syzed is being used in a stream and the user’s height is actively changing. Active reset refers to time after the stream has ended and the user is either set at their new current height or in the process of returning to their normal height. After a stream has ended the user will remain at their changed height until they press the reset button on the monitor. Once the reset button is active, the user will return to their normal height at 1.5 times the amount of time it took to change to their current changed height. EX: A user has finished a stream that was 4 hours. They hit the reset button which will return them to normal over the course of 6 hours. (4x1.5=6) This only applies for time Byte-Syzed was in use, not how long a size change occurred. EX: If the user’s stream was 4 hours, but they reached their minimum height in 3 hours, the reset function will account for the 4 hours the stream lasted. This is a safety procedure to reduce stress on the user’s body. Note: If the reset button is not pressed, the user will remain at their changed height for a period of 12 hours. After 12 hours, the reset function will kick in automatically.

The Synchronized Suit or Sync Suit is directly connected to the Byte-Syzed program and will grow and shrink with the user at the same rate as the user. Normal clothing can be worn above it but they will not change size with the user, only the sync suit. The sync suit Monica received came with the suit, shoes, and a headset with a built in microphone to keep audio input even over the course of her size changing. More sync suits are in the process of being designed and produced, with the goal of making sync suits that resemble everyday clothing like t shirts or skirts.

Fun Story Ideas:

- Origin story. How Monica met the benefactors and was gifted Byte-Syzed, her and Kim’s gripes about using it, actually going through with it and the pros and cons she noticed, the end of her first size changing stream and dealing with being tiny in her own room and her girlfriend’s hands. Etc etc

- Monica finished a late night stream using byte Syzed and forgets to press reset when she goes to sleep so instead of growing back over the course of the night she wakes up at her tiny size. After realizing her mistake she begins the growth process but now has to do it while attempting to do her regular day time activities.

- Monica is approached by a doll company to collaborate on a new doll based on her, only issue, their studio is several hours away and they want her to model at both her full height and at the height of the dolls. After some consideration Monica and Kim decide to take a road trip to the studio and use Byte Syzed at the studio under Kim’s careful supervision. What could go wrong?

- Months have passed and Kim and Monica have grown well adjusted to the major size difference between them after Monica finishes a byte syze stream, however curiosity has gotten the best of her and Kim wonders what it would be like to be the tiny one for a change.

If you have read this far, you have my eternal gratitude. Thanks for reading this far, I really hope you liked it XD Maybe if time and motivation allows I can flesh the story out.

[gingermintpepper]

How’s Fields of Mistria? You mentioning it was the second time I heard of it, the first time being in passing, so I’m not too knowledgeable about the game.

AWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!

Fields of Mistria is SUPER fun, since there's not much to do in it after you've completed the first year right now, I've dedicated myself to breeding and collecting all the seasonal variants of horses so I can name them after the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!

I also named all my barns after metamorphised lovers in greek myth because I have exactly one thought running through my head at any given point in time (Currently there's Crocus Coop where I keep my (gorgeous wonderful lovely adorable ouugh I LOVE THEMMM!!) blue chickens

Cypress Barn where I keep my wonderful cows (who have been with me the longest and whom I cherish immensely! I'm not sure if Autumn cows are possible but I'm definitely aiming for a barn of all red and autumnal cows for obvious reasons)

Minthe Barn where I keep all of my other large animals like sheep, alpacas and my very first beloved Chiron (black and white) and Iris (brown with spots) (the foal is Rigel) 🥺

And Hyacinthus Barn where I have a collection of small animals like rabbits, capybaras and my PRIZED DUCKS LEDA (the pretty blue and green duckie) AND CYCNUS (the pure white duck meant to mimic a swan!!) Even though it's technically a coop, I mistakenly labelled it a barn when I was inputting the name and I never changed it LOL

My farm is also named after THE metamorphosized lover, Daphne herself, so it's called Laurel Farm

And I'm planning for my Seasonal Horse barn to be named after the poplar since I quite like Leuke's story and I think she's fitting of housing the horses that will be the steeds of War, Pestilence, Conquest and Famine :)

Bonus: My house is still small and eclectically decorated, but keeping in theme with my farm, I do hope to go for a flower/garden theme

<33

[finleycannotdraw]

I love being transgender

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

So was anyone going to tell me Faust is a bigger menace than EVERYONE in the game put together or like. Was I supposed to play the Impossible Choices event (Vincent and Charles ver) myself. I LOVE that he's the definition of: 'being smarter doesn't make me more mature or helpful, it just makes my inherent lust for chaos/entropy all the more unstoppable' This shit FUCKS

I think this is the first time I've ever seen a character make Shakespeare's life a living hell and the latter didn't expect/see it coming, that was AMAZING. Mf was out here like "What the hell??? You lot don't make me suffer I make YOU suffer. Let a man obsess IN PRIVACY" and then nobody cared. Peak comedic interaction, no notes everyone pack it up

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Obsolete

cw: nsfw themes/implications, abuse, manipulation, fear, brief emeto mention, choking. (this chapter can be skipped without losing out on plot, it's a bit heavy)

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Sahota slouches on the bed, both feet planted firmly on the tile floor as if that’s enough to keep him tethered, keep his thoughts from drifting too far. He holds the gag in both hands, turning it over and over and over, watching the metal sections that make up most of its structure catch the light. 

He doesn't know long Harbor had been there when he arrived, already shaking from the stress on his body, tension to his shoulders and core brought on by the heavy leather cuffs that secured him to the foot of the bed.

He'd tried to pull away when Sahota knelt to remove the gag.

“F-fuck off.”

“This isn't what you want, Harbor.”

“It's what Vic wants.”

He'd cursed and insulted and tried to elicit a reaction that wasn't get out from him, but in the end he'd left.

“You're jealous,” he'd spat as Sahota closed the door behind him. There was something desperate in his tone, like he hoped if he said it with enough fervor he'd believe it, like he wished a rivalry was the only thing to worry about.

Like he was willing to thrust his hand into a fire just to feel the warmth. 

“You're just fucking jealous.”

He isn't. Is he? Jealous is too simple a way of putting it. He wants Vic's gaze to linger on him the way it does Harbor, he wants the idle touches as they pass in the hall, the I'm proud of you's and I know you can do it's.

He needs his attention as much as he loathes it.

Shouldn't he be grateful his master's lust is being directed elsewhere? 

Doesn't it mean he isn't enough anymore? What then? If Vic is finally tired of him, what does that mean? Will he be thrown out, abandoned? Or will he become another loose end that needs to be tied up?

It felt like that during their mock interrogation. It's been months since he's seen Vic that angry, much less at him, he's been far too careful for that. He never should've tried, never should've given the others the hope that they could take an alternate path. He's the reason they're trying to salvage control, he's the reason Vic’s tightening his fist around them.

If he hadn't gone behind his back with the challenge, would they have been allowed to to go after Manak?

Would Manak even be lost in the first place?

Sahota can't fight a grimace. He's learned this lesson a thousand times over already; he should know better. 

You can't say no to Vic.

He knows that, knows the consequences, and yet here he is. He can only hope it won't be Harbor that suffers for it.

The handle turns. Sahota half expects it to be the belligerent trainee, back with more choice words and arguments. When the door reveals Vic, a part of him wants to curl up and hide, reduced once again to a terrified kid who should fucking know better.

He wants to shrink under Vic’s gaze as they meet eyes, silence drawing out between them, but he doesn’t, instead stiffening his spine against the fear that curdles in his stomach, instead daring to open his mouth.

“How long would you have left him here?” A safe enough place to start. Not an accusation, He lets his hands fall into his lap, the gag still held between them. 

Vic leans against the doorframe, arms crossing his chest. “Would've been going on six hours now, if you hadn't cut him loose.”

“Six hours,” Sahota repeats flatly.

“I've kept you for thrice that.”

“He isn't me.”

“And you hate that, don't you?” He pushes himself up from the wall, moving into the room, closing in. “Why? I know you don't care for him.”

Because Vic always knows everything, because Sahota can never hide things from him. He doesn’t care for Harbor. He doesn’t let himself care for anyone these days. Still, under the envy and the fear there’s a stark horror at the thought that someone else will take his place, will suffer as Vic's plaything, will render him pointless.

“Am I not enough for you?” he says.

Vic clicks his tongue, cupping Sahota’s cheek with a warm hand. “Is that what you're afraid of, little spy? Being replaced?”

Yes. No. “Why do you want him?”

“He's a flashy thing. Caught my eye.” Vic chuckles. “So desperate for any human interaction he'd disembowel himself for a pat on the head.”

Is that what it comes down to? Another person for Vic to hurt, another body in his control. He shakes his head. “Vic—”

He's silenced with a kiss. There's something foreign in it. A new excitement, amusement that he cares about this, that he's scared.

“He won't replace you. He'd make a good dog though, don't you think?” He nuzzles into Sahota's neck. “Once you warm up to the idea, maybe I'll even let you play with him.”

Sahota jerks away, a breath lodging in his throat. He couldn't, he couldn’t. The idea of Vic dragging Harbor into this stings enough. The thought of playing along—of holding the younger man down, hurting him, controlling him—is too much to hold. He wants to throw up.

“Is that a no?”

“Whatever you want to do to him, you know I can take,” Sahota says, his voice low and insistent. He’s nearly pleading. He doesn’t know why he’s pleading for this.

It should feel good, shouldn't it? To know he may never again take the brunt of Vic's affections, to be elevated to a place of control.

It doesn't. It burns like bile.

“I know.” Vic’s hand strokes his cheek, thumb coming to rest on his lower lip. “When's the last time you cried for me?” It seems more a musing than a question he wants answered, but even if it were, Sahota doesn’t think he can speak to it.

He can’t remember the last time himself.

No, that's not true. Just days ago, he was crying, but not for Vic. It feels like such a potent secret he’s nearly purged it from his mind, and now he's afraid his master will see it on his face, the weakness he dared to show to these outsiders.

Ander, my name is Ander.

His own words echo back to him in a way that makes him shudder. By some stroke of luck, Vic doesn't notice, his eyes on the gag in Sahota's lap.

His hand falls away from his face, and he fixes him with a searching gaze. “Are you afraid he makes you obsolete?”

Sahota drops his eyes. “I… Yes.” It seems too simple an answer, but it’s the easiest explanation. One that might satisfy Vic.

“And you’d prefer it if I left him alone?” He tips his chin up with a finger. “If it stays just you and me?”

“Yes.” His answer is quieter this time. Vic hmms, and the silence seems to stretch for a long moment, every wordless breath drawing more fear into Sahota, pulling tension into his body. Then, Vic suddenly pushes him back onto the mattress, one hand curling in his hair, the other cupping his chin as he kisses him, hot and fierce. Sahota returns the kiss until he’s breathless.

“Hands behind your back.”

He obeys without much thought. It’s been a while since Vic’s tied him up for this. Months, at least. Silky rope winds around his wrists, and then he’s rolled onto his back, heart hammering with anticipation. There’s fear there too, but he tries to shove it down. Isn’t this what he wants? Isn’t this what he just begged for?

He opens his mouth to say something, but Vic’s hands shoot out, locking around his throat, squeezing, cutting off air. Panic floods through him, but he has Vic's touch memorized. His body knows not to respond, to take it, no matter how much his mind wants to rebel.

“What if I did want to replace you, Ander?”

Sahota’s eyes widen at the words, barely audible over the blood rushing in his ears. His body spasms from the lack of air, heels digging into the mattress, but Vic doesn't let up.

“What if I am tired of you, hm? What can you do about it?”

His wrists burn, the rope digging into them as his arms shake involuntarily, reaching to remove the pressure. No… No, he can’t mean it, Vic can’t mean it, he’s his. He’s been his for twelve years, he can’t just be replaced, he can’t just let the fucking cycle start all over again. Tears sting his eyes but refuse to shed, his mouth opening wide, making soundless pleas.

It can’t end this way, it can’t end this way, Vic, sir, Shepard, please—

“You are everything I made you. Without me, you'd be nothing. If I want someone new, you'd better just be fucking grateful you still have a seat at the table.”

His lungs burn, body shuddering, vision blackening at the corners, closing in—

—And then Vic’s hands relax, slipping away from his throat. The spy gasps for breath, rolling onto his side and curling his knees in, unsure whether he’s shaking from the lack of air or the sheer fear, the knowledge that Vic could’ve done it, would've done it. He would’ve done it and not even batted an eye.

He's not allowed to hold the thought for long before Vic seizes him by the hair, jerking him into a half-sitting position, his face stony and empty when the spy looks up at him through blurring vision.

Something almost like satisfaction crosses his master’s face.

“There's the tears.”

~

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden ,

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[icewindandboringhorror]

sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye