#thank you again for this its so sweet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[moonstruckme]

my queen of comfort 🙇🏻‍♀️

can i pls request a marauders with reader who has seasonal depression and it gets bad especially during the winters??? thank u 🫶

Thanks for being patient with me lovely <3

cw: depression, no harmful thoughts but general apathy and lethargy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 995 words

It’s warm in your bed. Almost too warm. The backs of your knees and the place where your arm is folded against your side feel uncomfortably heated. But Sirius kisses the back of your neck when he wakes, and you wouldn’t move for anything. 

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market today,” he says, voice sticky with sleep.

You look out the crack in the curtains covering your bedroom window. “It’s so cold out, though.” 

“So we’ll bundle up. You can put your hands in my pockets if you don’t feel like wearing your gloves.” His nose bumps your nape as he kisses you again. “It’ll be very romantic. The woman who sells the apple tarts said she’d be back this week, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” 

“You won’t let me get my girl a sweet? I thought you really liked those.” 

“I do, just.” Just. It feels like it’s all you say lately, like all you do is make excuses. Just, just, just. “It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s really gross outside.” 

Sirius’ arm comes around your waist. He doesn’t contradict you. It’s dreary and gray out your window, drizzling rain that bites like ice when it lands on your skin. You’d rather lose track of the day lying here with him, let it slip through your fingers and not think very hard about what it means that you have. Sirius’ fingers playing with yours make this all the more appealing. 

“What if we went to the cinema?” he asks. “That comedy film is showing this weekend.” 

“Didn’t James want to see that one?” 

“Think so, yeah.” 

“You should take him.” 

“I don’t want to take James.” Your joined hands press to your hip, a gentle request for you to turn around. But you don’t want to look at him, and Sirius doesn’t make you. He squeezes your fingers instead. “I want to take you.” 

That’s the important bit. Sirius doesn’t care about the farmer’s market, or even really about the film. You know he only wants you to get up, to go anywhere and do anything at all, and you feel like shit for resisting him. You shouldn’t, either. You know how sadness can sink its talons in the longer it holds you. 

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.” 

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides fondly. “We don’t have to go if you won’t enjoy it. What do you want to do?” 

You try to muster something for him, you really do, but after a handful of hapless moments you can only be honest. 

“I don’t think I want anything.” 

“That’s okay.” Sirius drops a kiss on your shoulder. “Hey, could you look at me? Please?” 

You roll over, miserable and made more miserable by the aching tenderness in your boyfriend’s expression. This new spot on the bed is colder than where you’d been, but Sirius’ knee bumps against yours, his palm slipping beneath your head on the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to touch you. Doesn't treat you like you’re breakable or wrong or contagious. His hand flattens under your cheek and warms your skin like he can bleed goodness into you. 

“It’s okay,” he says again, softly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “Now what for?” 

“Making things so hard,” you murmur. You’re trying not to disturb his palm with your mouth movements. 

“Sweetheart, nothing’s hard when I’m with you. I just want to be with you. We can just sit here and talk all day if you want.” 

“I don’t think I’m very nice to talk to right now.” 

“What does that matter? I know I’m awful to talk to half the time. We can be morbid bellyachers together.” 

With some effort, you lift one corner of your mouth. Sirius kisses it rewardingly. 

“You are a delight to talk to, by the way. Always.” 

“A delight?” you whisper. 

“Mhm.” 

There’s a piece of his hair that’s arching over his face, all sprightly and mussed about by the pillowcase. You’re close enough that it moves when you breathe. You blow, and it tickles Sirius’ nose. He smiles. 

“I don’t think I want to talk,” you admit. 

“That’s okay.” 

“I know I’m not fun to be around right now. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make everything miserable.” You look at the dip of his cupid’s bow rather than his eyes. “I love you.” 

It feels important to say. Even when you’re dropping it in his lap awkwardly, like a plea. 

Sirius tilts his head until his eyes meet yours. Dark lashes and silver pools, like moonlight glancing off water. “I love you,” he says, so sincere it burns. “I have another idea.” 

You hum. 

“We watch a film here instead. Or a show, whatever. But first, you tell me how to make french toast so we can have some for breakfast.” 

“You don’t want me to make it?” You don’t want to, but you’d try for him. 

“I want to do something for you.” He kisses you, soft and sweet. He tastes like sleep. “But you’re allowed to help if you like.” 

Allowed amuses you, though you don’t smile. Sirius’ eyes glint like he can tell just the same. 

“You do lots of things for me,” you say. 

“Good. I’d like to continue adding to the tally; it’s how I keep my edge.” 

You look at Sirius, thinking of how much you must love him for it to ache this deeply. Thinking of how he loves you, and how unfair it seems. He keeps doing it even when you give him every reason not to. 

Sirius can tell you’ve slipped away. He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “So, what do you say, gorgeous?” 

You don’t really want to eat french toast. You think you’d swallow battery acid if he made it for you, though. “It sounds nice.” 

“Yeah?” He grins. “Okay, let’s go then, yeah? I’m starving.” 

You give Sirius your hands when he reaches for them, and you let him pull you up.

[greentrickster]

GUYS GUYS GUYS (ALSO GALS GALS GALS AND PALS PALS PALS)!!!!!!!!!!! This AU has its first art! I repeat, THIS AU HAS ITS FIRST ART!

AND THEY'RE WEARING THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST OUTFITS, OMFG, I DIE*, LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE, LOOK HOW SWEET THEIR EXPRESSIONS AAAAAAAAAAARE~! Thank-you so much, I didn't see this 'cause notifications don't show if there are images in the reblog and I don't check the post proper as often but HOLY FLIP- (shoves this in everyone's face) CAPTAIN!!! LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK!!!!!

.

*If anyone lets Victor near my corpse, I'm coming for you first once I'm up and about again.

Frankenstein AU where the Creature, upon returning to seek terrible vengeance on Victor after realizing the tragic existence he's been forced into, takes a few days extra to actually, you know, observe Victor and see what he's like, to learn how best to enact his revenge. And he comes to the conclusion that, "Actually, I don't need to do anything, this idiot's going to ruin his own life without any outside interference, and I kinda wanna see how he does it."

Victor then proceeds to continue with his previously demonstrated levels of making good life choices, while now also constantly looking over his shoulder for his Creation and having the vapors at every little thing because oh noes, it's The Monster come back to Get Him-!!!

The Creature: (watching all this unfold through binoculars like it's a soap opera while sneaking in to help himself to Victor's larder and library when he feels like it, and also occasionally hiding small but vital objects, like Victor's keys or shaving blade, in weird spots in the house) Wow, it really does take an incredibly smart man to be quite this stupid, doesn't it?

[qwiopty]

TAILS GIJINKA BREAKDOWN!

FINALLY!! i put together some tails gijinka/humanized stuff LOL!! see below for some goodies and an in depth (kind of indulgent) breakdown!!

[for the third image: sonic gijinka design belongs to @noka-exe !! i havent really come up with my own but i like theirs :-) ]

thisss gijinka is packed with headcanons LOL.. beware!! for starters...hes just a little guy!! i took visual inspo from markl (howls moving castle) and simon (gurrenn lagann)!! mostly simon bc i find a lot of similarities between him and tails.. short and unassuming shy boys who are also compassionate and brave!! (isn't it also awesome how simon and tails both have an older brother figure who encourages them to be brave.. 💥💥🤯 and they both have some sort of space opera and id go on but thats spoilers!!) i also went with a prosthetic leg to kind of represent his tail!! i think it could parallel to how tails' tails can act like a mobility aid, and he'd get the opportunity to tinker and repair them too!! it could also possibly correlate to how tails makes something he was picked on and bullied for, his tails, and uses it to his advantage! and again tying in his interest for mechanics and being able to customize and repair it is a concept that i find neat!! (maybe some inspo from fullmetal alchemist.. bahahaha..)

speaking of customization. i also love the idea of him covering them with stickers!! i've already added tails' own emblem on there but this has prompted me to look into adding some more!

(sorry that im singling you out again @tornado1992 LMAO i just loved your input!!) but i also love the hc that tails gets hand me downs from sonic!! for instance his gloves.. ik theyre not directly from sonic but it is such a sweet detail that tails has a rubber band around those oversized gloves to mimic sonic! and tails definitely has the means to make his own fitted gloves yet he still has those bands on in his modern models!! auhgh!! so yes.. lets say the hoodie is so oversized and oozing with swag cause it originally belonged to sonic! :-) maybe tails likes it so much that he designs the cyclone after it!! just some ideas... more depth into his clothes: i drew a lot of inspo from already existing tails-related designs!! the main outfit i draw him in is a large short-sleeve hoodie with some elements pulled from the cyclone and tails' racesuit design from sonic speed simulator! he also has his goggles and shoes from sonic riders, with some slight details added on!! see below for a better look at the outfit LOL

(the pins on his crossbody bag are a fly-type emblem, a mint, and a red star ring! theres also a sonic keychain that i keep forgetting to add/switch out with the fly type emblem LOL)

here's some more doodles from last year with this design!

yes i did make a classic design for him!! his younger hair is more of that nice vintage orange-yellow but as he gets older itll turn amber then maybe gold? i was also thinking he dons some red clothing to reflect his admiration for sonic but later starts implementing his own style with some grays and blues!!

i'll also point out that i lean into more of a space-pilot design instead of the usual aviator pilot!! tbf i was raised on sonic x season 3 which is just a huge space opera.. 😅😅 but i still do love the aviator pilot concept!!

this should be about everything i have to dump about my design!! im not usually this talkative in posts so im a little embarassed to be sharing this at all 💀 but if u read through all of this thank you so much LMFAO im so crazy about him!! if you have any questions or ideas youd like to share id love to hear them!! maybe draw them out too... i may even do a cosmo design update/breakdown!! for fun.. heres the first tails gijinka post i ever posted!!

also shoutout to @corvussio for the incredible detailed comment on my other tails design post!! i know its been ages but i still think about how you took the time to look into each and every detail!! thank you greatly pal!!

[cosmowgyral]

"Lover's Contract: A night of immoral deeds"

▪︎ Nica Schwartz

This is a fan translation, not 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. Expect grammatical inconsistencies.

Since Nica is not yet out in the EN server, there might be terms that will turn out different than what I have used here when he is finally released. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

A big thank you to Ciele (@.judesmoonbeauty) for providing me with the video of the epilogue. ♡

Epilogue

Kate: Ni-Nica, stop.

He licks the red bite marks repeatedly, proving I’m his.

He leaves peckish kisses down my neck again and again.

Even though it was just a little stimulation, after it was repeated multiple times, I started to feel hot and my entire body began to shake.

He gave me an exaggerated blow, and laughed a little as he saw me writhe.

Nica: What? Are you feeling it?

Kate: That’s not it.

Nica: Then why are you staring at me with such a flushed face?

He strokes my cheeks with the back of his fingers, twirling the ends of my hair and playing with them.

Nica: If it feels that good, I want you to do it too.

Kate: Huh, ah!

A hand reaches under my armpit and I am lowered from the railing. Nica then switches our positions.

Nica: Come now, put it on me too.

I hesitated when Nica pointed to his neck——

Nica: The Crown—

Kate: I-I’ll do it! It’s okay to do it, right?

Feeling threatened, I hastily placed my lips on his neck.

Despite its slender appearance, his neck is well-defined, with muscles that are normally invisible, now appearing and disappearing.

The aroma of ylang-ylang wafts from his Adam’s apple, which rises and falls with each breath, almost mesmerising me, but—.

Kate: Mmph, uh

Pursing my lips, I sucked again and again changing my angle, but the red mark never appeared.

Kate: Mm?

(I’m not good at it at all.)

As I struggled, I heard a voice coming from above my head and looked up.

Then I saw him with his eyebrows lowered and a happy smile on his face.

Nica: You’re no good at all, Robin.

He said the words while wiping away tears from too much laughter.

I couldn’t respond as my eyes were drawn to him.

Nica: Giving up?

Kate: Huh, oh, I’m still going.

I hurriedly tried to make a mark, but the colour was faint and it didn’t turn out as I had expected.

He then touched the side of my neck that didn’t have love bites.

Nica: Let me show you how it works.

Kate: Mmm

Red marks form on my neck once more.

Neck, collarbone, nape..

The slight pain that accompanies the sound of lips causes the red marks to become more noticeable.

Kate: Ni-ca

(What should I do? I know I’m not supposed to like it.)

As the number of bites increases, I can feel my excitement rising.

He finally parted his lips and licked them with his tongue.

Nica: See, now do it like this.

He puts his hand around the back of my head and presses my face into the crook of his neck.

I tried to imitate him but failed again.

(If this goes on….)

I bared my teeth and bit into his beautiful neck.

However, it seems that I bit harder than I intended.

Nica: Nngh!

Kate: I’m so sorry! Did that hurt?

Startled by the bite, Nica put his hand on the bitten spot with a shocked look on his face.

He touched the area where the bumps are clearly visible with his fingertips.

He then grinned and stroked the love bites on my neck—.

Nica: Mm, matching.

My heart was pounding loudly.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Kate: Excuse me.

A few days later, Nica called me to the reception room.

Nica: Here you are. I’ve been waiting for you, Robin.

Kate: You needed me for something...w-whoaa!

I couldn't contain my amazement when I saw the vibrant boxes of sweets on the table.

Kate: What is all this?

Nica: Do you remember the husband from when we infiltrated the lover’s club?

Kate: Yes.

Nica: The man actually owns a sweet manufacturing company. So I received a lot of sweets as a thank you.

Nica: I couldn’t have these all by myself, so I want you to take some too.

Kate: Is that okay?

Nica: Consider it a reward for going on the mission with me.

Stacks of biscuit tins and glittery chocolates.

Cute looking candies and sweet-smelling caramel.

(Which one should I choose…?!)

Choosing one is fun, so I started selecting and analysing each one.

Nica: If you’re that interested, you can have them all.

After hearing Nica, I shook my head sternly.

Kate: No, I can’t. If I eat them all, I’ll get fat.

Nica: You’re slim enough for me to lift you up easily.

Kate: That’s….

Suddenly remembering what happened a few days back, I stopped examining the sweets and looked at him.

Kate: Oh…

As he was sitting on the sofa and resting his head on the backrest, I could see the teeth mark on his neck and I couldn’t help but let out a cry.

Then, noticing my gaze, Nica opened the collar of his shirt to show it off.

Nica: This has hardly faded.

Nica: That goes for you too, right, Robin?

I had unconsciously placed my hand on the spot where the love bites were on my neck, but I quickly removed it.

Nica: There’s no point in doing that. They’re clearly visible once you look up.

Feeling embarrassed, I tried to look away, but he pulled me by the arm and brought his lips close to my neck.

Nica: Hey, Kate.

Nica: Should I renew our contract?

It seems I still can’t escape from him.

[Premium End] [Masterlist]

➽──────────────❥

Note: The hickeys were referred to as "red flowers blooming" here, but it sounded plain weird, so I changed them all to red marks.

[vin-at-thehub]

Vin wrote a fic for you btw @dustcrumbs

Here it is:

It was late, probably some point when the morning would come up and kiss the night away. The time where the sun wouldn’t rise with color but the moon would fade into the background and hold everything in a soft glow. It was also the point at night where Horror trudged his way back into the palace. He had been actively out all day with the plan of visiting his brother after he handled some supplies runs from Nightmares orders. If things had gone well, he didn’t show it, if it went poorly, he still didn’t show it, having his expression in a held smile. Masking in its own way.

By the time he had made it past the kitchen, to the stairs, he paused, hearing mumbling coming from that room. He stood there for a moment, before the voice of Dust clicked into his skull. Ah, Dust was awake—and talking to himself again-? Horror wasn’t sure who or why Dust spoke to seemingly no one, but he didn’t really mind overall. They were all freaks here, weren’t they-? Why would he have the right to judge Dust-? Especially when Dust had been nothing but nonchalant with him.

Horror smiled as he went and walked himself into the kitchen, eye-lights flashing around as he tried to spot Dust—there he was, mumbling something as he heated up a pot of water over the stove, and tried to strain some leaves into it.

“Whatcha doin bud-?” He asked gruffly, being caught off guard by how low his own voice was. Stars below, he was exhausted, wasn’t he-?

Eh, hopefully the big bad boss would just let him sleep through the day—and then he could stuff his face when he ate later. Maybe. It was still hard to eat without thinking of the people back home that had so little—even though he brought them food, and well, he had noticed the boss’s brother bringing some supplies at all—but at the end of the day, making sure the food didn’t go to waste was still something good to get done.

Dust snapped his skull up at him, knocking him out of his thoughts. Dust had a habit of pulling him out of his thoughts. It was nice. Sometimes Horror would just silently find himself near Dust, knowing that fog in his mind would go away around him.

The hooded skeleton shuffled his feet, eyelights likely flickering to the boiling tea. “Was gonna make you a…er cup of tea.” He said blankly. Horror stared at him in surprise for a second. Well that was a sweet pick me up. Hell, yeah. As he opened his mouth (teeth..-?) to reply with an enthusiastic thank you, Dust had started his mumbling again.

”shut up I’m trying—it’s just tea—..” He hissed to the air. Huh. Horror reached a clawed hand out and tilted his chin up—avoiding just grabbing his face like he used to since it pissed the boss of for some reason when he yanked Dust around like that—and bringing his attention back to him.

”Yah okay bud-?” He asked, tilting his skull so he could basically stare into the others covered eyelights. In a cute, friendly way of course. Dust just nodded, using blue magic to raise the pot and pour the tea into cups, handing one to Horror. Not saying much. Which was fine to him. Whatever he wanted to do was fine. Though Horror couldn’t help but be curious to what he had heard the other say earlier.

——————————————-

“Can I ask yah who you were chattin with-?” Horror asked, and Dust could swear his soul stopped in his ribcage. Papyrus, or whatever was left of him paused. Then he left. Coward. Leaving him alone with Horror after bullying him for making the guy tea. It was just tea, not a soul proposal or something. Dust took a sip of tea as he nodded, trying to silently figure out what to say, and sipping on leaf water was one way to delay his answer.

He wasn’t afraid to tell Horror. Not really. Not like he was trying to seem more sane than he was. But…it would be nicer to still seem slightly put together. It was probably why Horror constantly seeked him out. Right-?

Oh right he had basically downed the entire cup.

Time to talk, he supposed.

”I was..chatting with my version of Paps.” He said with a shrug. Not wanting to go into too much detail, besides, Horror would probably bomb him with questions anyway. Most did.

But as he waited, that bomb never came. Horror just nodded as he sipped thoughtfully on his tea.

“That sounds nice, bein able to chat with your bro a bunch.” He said with a slight grin.

Oh.

oh.

He wasn’t judging, wasn’t pushing him to say anything more, wasn’t acting like this was world shattering news.

Of course he wasn’t.

He was Horror, his perfect fucking man that understood everything far better than anyone would, then anyone gave him credit for. He kept things simple because simple was what they both needed. What the world needed.

Dust felt himself pull into one of his older grins. He wanted to tell Horror something. How he was feeling right now maybe, how nicely his words had effected him, something to make this…partnership stronger—just something. If he wanted to be a bit drastic “that warms the inside of my soul.” Or to be a bit simpler and direct, “I need you to stay with me. You make me feel safe.” Wonderful plan.

What came out was: “I need you inside me.”

…oh he was fucked.

[midnightshindig]

I js got my blood drawn for donations some few hours ago was not great but worth it but can you do a mark x reader where they get there blood drawn for donations but feels bad after and he takes care of them?

Mark x Reader

Omg haiii that's so fr! I hate getting my blood drawn, I got you!

hcs under the cut!

Mark is a superhero on a GLOBAL scale

which means sometimes he forgets about all the things the average person can do to have a positive impact

So when you come home moderately drained and with a thirst for electrolytes, he's a little confused

oh my god blood donation he forgot that was even a thing.

Mark isn't even sure he has human blood, or if he could donate it

Either way, you get home and you're sore and bruised and tired

"Jesus, Y/n, are you okay?" He asks candidly from the couch, quickly moving to his feet

"Huh? Oh, yeah I'm good. Just donated some blood and I think they drew too much." You wave it off like its no big deal

but like you just gave people your blood

like a LOT of blood.

He's so prouddd

"That's terrifying, but also amazing?" he tilts his head, with a goofy grin

"You've seriously never donated blood before?" You asked, taking a seat with him on the couch and rubbing where they'd taped a square of gauze into the inner part of your arm

He shook his head with a shrug "nope, I've known I'm a Viltrumite since I was like.... a kid? I've never had my blood drawn at all."

He asked what it was like and of course you explained it to the best of your ability, ending with you leaning your head against him for support

"I think it's very brave of you to do something like that." he responded with a coy look, prompting you to elbow him gently

"Mark, don't be a dick-"

"Hey- Hey! I'm serious!" he put his hands up with a laugh, before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in, kissing the top of your head "You did a good thing, I'm proud of you, Y/n."

He paused for a minute "So how long do you have to leave that on?"

"Uh.. I don't?" you wondered what he was getting at

Mark only smiled wider "Well my mom got a lot of those cute patterned stickers for Oliver."

So you end up going through maybe half a dozen different themed boxes of bandages, before landing on an intricately patterned one that you liked best

Mark knelt on the ground and gingerly cleaned the inside of your arm, before applying a new bandaid

"Mark you know this is just as superfluous as the gauze, right?"

"Psshhht- I know." He looked up at you to your spot in a kitchen chair "But it's a bravery badge."

"A what?"

His face turned a light shade of red as he looked away "Gah, it's dumb. It's... something my Dad used to do. When I would get hurt. My mom would patch me up and my dad would call them bravery badges instead of bandaids."

You listened intently, leaning your other arm against the kitchen table

"He said it made me sound less weak. Which, in retrospect...." he trailed off, his expression souring

"But! Now it's just a badge for being brave, for doing a good job at a shitty, difficult thing, and for being a good person."

He pulled himself up off the flood, opening a hand to you and pulling you from the chair to your feet

"Thanks for doing this, Mark. You're sweet." you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips

"Of course, how could I not?" He responded, before kissing you again

You supposed getting your blood drawn wasn't so bad after all

[followtheechoes]

FOUND AT LAST! thank you so much @eleceedlover for sending this to me!! it's a three part series and it's in the second part, so here are the links to each part:

Three Wheels: A Year for Secrets by Requiem17 | After Morgana's latest takeover attempt, things quiet down in Camelot…on the surface at least. [Canon Divergence, Post S4, Eventual Reveal] This story and its following two parts are revamped and posted on Ao3 under Three Wheels - Triskelion and the same penname. As of Aug '24, start on Ao3 and come back here at Part 2 if you're eager for the rest.

Three Wheels: The Year of Shadows by Requiem17 | Was he born Emrys, or is it a title to be earned? [Post S4, Canon Divergence, Eventual Reveal, Part 2/3]

Three Wheels: A Year for Strength by Requiem17 | Do you believe in prophecy, Merlin? Or do you make your own Fate? [Post S4, Canon Divergence, Reveal, Part 3/3]

And the ao3 link mentioned is here:

Three Wheels: Triskelion by Requiem17 | One month after Morgana seizes Camelot with Helios' armies, Gwen is crowned. Camelot almost knows a short period of peace, but for three small changes: Arthur follows through on a promise to a murdered druid boy. Merlin recognizes the insidiousness of complacency. And the Diamair foresees their own death.

In a journey that will take Merlin and his friends through the Veil into crystalline tunnels of golden magic, force them to revisit the trials of the Purge, and send them against Leshys, Shades, and dark magic itself- they all must decide whether they are brave enough to face their own fallacies and earn an age of gold.

Is Emrys born, or a title to be earned?

Do you rely on prophecy, or make your own fate?

some fics I found which are not the one I'm looking for but which still feature gwen, whether that means having her own agency as a character in a long fic or a brief character study (unfortunately it's usually the second):

A Heartbreaking Impossibility by Min Dae | Uther's ward needed a lady's maid. Morgana needed something else. Gwen is trying to figure out what she needs, somewhere in the middle.

Wonder What You Are by Capriccio. | There's a sadness in Gwen's eyes that wasn't there before. In the days following her father's death, Merlin sees very little of her. When he does catch her at the water pump or in the hallways, she turns away to hide her face. He can't think of what to say to make her smile again. (Set after 1x12.)

Night Piece by significantowl | It begins when their nights are once more their own, and neither Gwen nor Merlin sleep. [post-s1]

Untitled tumblr fic by @agapantoblu | This night, the happiness it pours into her, has to be the happiest she's felt in a long time. All the candles in the room are dancing and all the edges are dulled even when she bumps into them; her mouth is sweet with mulled wine, winter is held at bay outside the thick stone and Merlin is so, so warm.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears by tielan | It's not just her father's sword or the sword of the knight who made it - it's her sword, too.

nothing to fear for the day has broken by stanzas | She doesn’t know exactly when she realized it, but once the truth was presented to her, she couldn’t dismiss the idea any longer. Merlin used magic. Merlin had magic. And clearly he was mentally addled, like Arthur said – for why else would he be living in a place like Camelot?

a thief in mourning by killing_all_joy | Gwen manages to figure out that Merlin swapped Lancelot's cloak for a fake one when it was burned. She decides to ask him if she can have it, unaware of Merlin's connection with and love for Lancelot. / When she learns, they mourn together.

The Sword's Tale by Sydelle Rein | Or - "Guinevere's Astute Observational Skills As Conveniently Ignored by the Show." As Arthur holds the sword above his head and the crowd shouts its fealty, Gwen's eyes widen in recognition. 4x13

Destiny's Path by MonJoh | Following the events of Season 4, Arthur suspects the one person in the world he thought would never betray him. Merlin is forced to confront first hand the price of not returning magic to Camelot. Morgana faces her own failures.

something blue by alittleacatalepsy | As the royal wedding approaches, Merlin searches for items requested by a magical rhyme, Gwen crafts two gowns and contemplates loyalty, and Arthur is just doing his best.

Queen of Swords by reelin_writer | Guinevere is not in the bed. She is in the far chamber, just visible through the archway, using his sword to practice drills up and down the narrow length of space beside the table. / Or, Arthur realizes his wife has been practicing and is instantly starstruck by this new common passion.

Selfish by donttouchtheneednoggle | "Perhaps there is not one among us who has not lost a person they would like to speak with. People we didn’t even get to say goodbye to. That if you were going to use magic, make such an exception to the laws you uphold you would at least involve others in your decision?” / His eyes widened. “I- didn’t- think-“ / She smiled, a little tight smile with none of its usual open radiance. “No. Of course you didn’t.” / Or, Gwen finds out what Arthur has been keeping from her, and Arthur finds out more things he has been blind to.

My Golden Crown of Sorrow, My Bloody Sword to Swing by queerofthedagger | Gwen finds Morgana just before she dies. Morgana has taken almost everything from her, and there are things Gwen has left to say.

some tags for people who wanted to read it if found: @auldsusie @atdawn @renninflight

there's this merlin fic I read a few years ago: it was some kind of reveal fic, I think, and it was one of those tense, drawn-out ones set when arthur is king and gwen is queen. I don't remember the full context but I remember that gwen is holding arthur's sword and thinking that the craftsmanship is similar to her dad's, and then scrapes her fingernail over the place where her father would usually have added some kind of signature mark, and she realises that this is the sword she gave merlin forever ago. it was a fantastic moment of realisation and I would love to read it again, but I can't remember anything else about the fic :( if this is familiar to you could you please throw me a link or a few more hints? tysm

[thevillainswhore]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Bucky has internal scars too deeply imbedded that cause him to hide away from the world on the dark days. But he always knows, no matter how long he takes, you’ll forever be waiting for him on the other side — the light to bring him home.

Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, mental health, themes of depression, nudity (non sexual), depreciation/self esteem issues, Bucky is seriously sad, fluff.

Author’s Note: Proofread by @buck-star. Divider by @saradika-graphics. This is a little bit of a heavy one folks ❤️‍🩹 not usually my thing, but after a difficult couple of months I needed to get this out. My inboxes are always open for those who are struggling with their mental health, thank you for reading x

“How long has he been locked in there?” Steve’s concerned voice interrupts the silence of the compound late at night while you sit at the kitchen table, aimlessly stirring your now cold tea. 

You clear your throat and look up, the anxiety visibly courses through your features just as it does your friend. “Just over a week now, I think.” 

Steve sighs. “It’s gotten bad again.” 

You hum, unable to muster up anything else. It had been seven days of constant worry since the moment you had woken up on that first day to find the warm heap of muscle that usually tangled its limbs with yours wasn’t next to you in bed, but rather instead locked away in the bathroom. 

Bucky insists it’s what’s best for him; to shut himself from the world when his thoughts become dark and his nightmares come back from the dead to haunt him. But it was difficult to let him wallow in depression by himself, knowing his self destructive tendencies enjoy the hacking to his self esteem. 

Steve shuffles his weight between his feet, looking unsure of himself. “Shouldn’t we intervene by now?” He steps further into the kitchen and sits on the chair opposite you. “Surely we can’t let him continue like this.” 

You smile ruefully and push your mug to the side. “Steve, honey,” you begin carefully. “I know you’re concerned because he’s your best friend. Trust me, it’s hard for me to sit here and wait it out too. But you can’t force someone out of the recesses of their mind when they get like this.” Sliding your arms across the table, you gather Steve’s hands in yours. “Especially not Bucky.” 

The look on his face breaks your heart. “I know, I know. I just hate seeing him like this”, he sighs sadly. “I hate the feeling of doing nothing while he’s struggling.”

“Me too, sweetie.” You squeeze his hands before leaning back in your chair. “All we can do is give gentle encouragement. Let him know we’re here whenever he’s ready.” 

Although the worry was all the same in these situations, you were well seasoned with how to maintain your distance for Bucky’s well being, while also showing your love from afar by now. For example, the meals you had left him every single day without fail outside of your shared room; his favourite comfort food with a sweet treat baked specifically by you to give him some energy. 

Or the blankets you love so much slipped into the room without breaking the promise of seeing Bucky before he was ready. Without looking, you would open the door and place the fluffy material by the floor. You also took the time to spray it with your daily perfume as a familiar comfort Bucky could relish in without your physical form. 

It broke your heart to be away from him for so long, even if you were in the same vicinity as each other — always only a distance away that you could run to within sixty seconds should he need you. However, you knew this was what he needed. After the first time this happened within your relationship and you had no idea what he needed from you during that time, the two of you had sat down and discussed how you could support him better going forward. 

“Don’t worry,” you reassure gently before moving away from the table and placing your mug into the sink. “He’ll come to, he always does. Just gotta give him some time.” 

“Will you—,” Steve swallows his words harshly before trying again. “Could you let me know if he’s okay when you hear something?” Almost silently, he adds, “Please?”

You realise then that this is Bucky’s best friend, the man who defied every order and rule book to save him — multiple times. There’s a vulnerability in his ocean blue eyes and your heart is happy that the love of your life has other people that adore him just as much as you do. You wish Bucky could see the extent as easily. 

Softening your eyes, you don’t divert your attention for a second as you sincerely swear, “Of course, Stevie. I’ll make sure FRIDAY gets a message to you.” 

Steve blows out a heavy breath, seemingly lighter than he was when he first came in. “Thank you.” 

You share a delicate smile, an understanding between teammates, friends and two people who love Bucky so immensely. You’re about to bid him good night, ready to retreat to your old room just down the hall from your shared one with Bucky when a set of footsteps, timid and apprehensive creep towards you. Steve turns his head at the same time as you to find the very man on both your minds. 

“Bucky.” The relief in your voice is loud and the tension that you hadn’t even realised was so tightly weaved into your limbs instantly relaxes at the sight of him. It takes everything in you to not run into his arms, not wanting to spook him, so you tamper your emotions and stay rooted in your place while your eyes greedily take him in for the first time in a week. “Hi, baby.” 

Your boyfriend, head down with his long, matted hair hiding his face, lifts his head slightly until a peek of storm grey meets your gaze. You clock the dark, heavy bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, the chapped lips that have been bitten restlessly. The clothes, stained with sweat marks, lay unusually baggy on his form. Normally, his shirts sit snug on the muscles of his biceps and his toned stomach and his sweatpants fit defined around his thick thighs. However in the week separated from him, Bucky has lost a fair amount of weight you conclude from lack of training and eating. 

Though his stature is hunched and he’s so desperately trying to hide away in plain sight, Bucky is here, visible and alive. He’s in front of you because he wants to be, you know that from past experience. He’s ready to let you in and take care of him even when the nasty voice in his head is telling him he doesn’t deserve it. You try so hard to swallow the lump in your throat and will the tears not to gather in your waterline. 

As Bucky clenches his fingers tightly, the whirring of his vibranium arm filling the silence of the kitchen, you know what he needs right now is for you to take charge. He’s not verbal yet, present but unable to speak and so you step forward slowly until you’re closer to him but not yet crowding his space. 

“How about we run you a bath, hm?” you offer softly, a suggestion rather than an order. While you’re trying to lead, you want him to set the pace — everything on his terms. “The warm water will feel nice on your muscles.” 

With a barely there nod of his head, Bucky accepts and you breathe a little easier knowing he’s still there, just a little lost. But it’s the subtle flex of his fingers, reaching out towards you that threatens to crack you. 

Carefully, you thread your fingers through his. You don’t miss the shudder that violently tracks down his back or the small gasp he lets loose. Your heart is becoming whole once again. 

Before leaving the kitchen, you glance at Steve still standing staring at his best friend. It’s then you stop and tentatively rub your thumb against Bucky’s hand. “Stevie wanted to ask you if you’d be up for a drive sometime soon. Doesn’t that sound good, honey? Taking your bike out for a spin?” 

Steve holds his breath as Bucky lifts his head slightly. “Mhm.” His voice is rough around the edges, the syllables straining against his dry throat. 

It's all he can offer right now. But from the looks of it, Steve’s eyes light up like he’s won the lottery. “Can’t wait, pal. I’m ready whenever you are, just let me know.” 

Your friend then looks to you, mouthing a silent thank you. You smile before ushering Bucky to your room. 

Bucky stands in the corner of the bathroom, looking smaller than you’ve ever seen him. He still hasn’t said anything, instead choosing to remain quiet for now. That was more than okay with you. You would rather slowly pluck away at the wall he’s built around himself and allow him to come forth smoothly. 

Meanwhile, you had rolled your sleeves up, running the water to fill the bathtub. You pick up two options of bubble bath and read them aloud to your boyfriend. “Okay. So we’ve got Lavender or Eucalyptus. Both are great for relaxation. You think you’d prefer one, baby?” 

Bucky doesn’t respond, his owlish eyes blinking at you. Though his actions threaten the well of emotions in your throat, you remain calm and soothing. “That’s alright, honey. We can just put a little of each in. Best of both worlds, huh?” 

Again, there’s no response. But you expect nothing more. You hold no expectations of him, only wanting to gently encourage him out of his shell, just like you’d told Steve earlier. 

You pour each liquid under the running faucet and instantly soapy bubbles begin to form on the surface of the water. Happy with the result, you turn each tap off and smile towards your boyfriend. “All done, Buck.” 

He stands there motionless, eyes darting between you and the bathtub, still making no move towards you. 

“Would you like some help, love?” You move slowly, each step intentionally attentive. “It’s difficult sometimes, to get your body moving, isn’t it?” 

Bucky nods. It's not much, but it's something and you can work with that. 

“Right. We all need help sometimes. No shame in that, Bucky.” You’re in front of him now, a hair's breadth away from each other and you’re thankful to be let into his space. “Would you like me to undress you?” 

The air is stilted as you wait for any kind of indication from Bucky. It’s to your surprise that a gentle whisper slips from his lips. “Please.” 

You hone down the tears bullying their way to the surface. Instead, you smile shakily. “Of course, baby. Anything you need.” 

Raising your hands cautiously, you bring them to Bucky’s eyeline, allowing him to follow each motion you make. You bring them slowly towards the hem of his shirt, lifting the material over his torso and with a small struggle over his shoulders to the top of his head. 

“All okay, Buck? Can I keep going?” You check in, wary of any stipulations to his emotions. Reading his eyes, you know you’re good to reach for his pants. And so you do, taking careful measures to not let your skin connect with his prematurely and without permission. 

With only Bucky’s underwear left, you take one last chance to gain consent. “Am I good to help you take those off? We can keep them on or I can turn around while you do it yourself if you’re not comfortable.” 

But Bucky needs no time before he whispers his fingers against yours. A sign of his authorisation for you to take the reins. 

“Sure thing, honey.” Just like before you send him a reassuring smile before inching the last piece of material down his thighs and finally away from his feet. He stands naked before you and you make sure to look nowhere else other than his eyes. “Thank you for allowing me to do that, Buck. Can I walk you to the bath now?” 

There’s a slight moment of hesitance before Bucky places one foot in front of the other, searching for your hold. Immediately, you place one arm around his back, the other wrapping around his hand. 

You step together in sync, slow for Bucky’s sake. “Great job, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Once you reach the tub, you give some directions. “Okay, you’re gonna step in now and I’m going to be right here with you.” 

Bucky grasps your hand tighter. You know he’s scared you’re going to leave. Gently, you swipe his tangled hair behind his ear and cup his stubbled cheek. “I promise I’m not leaving. I’ll be right by your side, okay love?” 

You see him swallow the lump in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing until he slackens his grip. Not before taking a deep breath, Bucky shakily lifts himself into the bathtub with your assistance and lowers himself into the water until his full body is submerged. 

“There we go.” Your pride for him is certain and absolute. You try your best to show him that. “Hard parts over with now, Buck. Now I can take care of you.” 

His pained groan echoes around the tiles of the bathroom. He’s hiding himself away from you but you’re eventually crumbling his defences down. 

“Let’s get this hair sorted out, huh? I’ll even let you use my shampoo you always steal.” The familiarity of your usual banter is a band aid to the wound so raw and open. Bucky was a fiend for thieving your most expensive toiletries — an excuse already lined up that no men’s products, no matter how costly, could match up to yours. 

Normally you would scold him, jumping into a shower after a prolonged mission only to find your shampoo empty with the bottle still placed on the rack. 

However, you would take those moments a thousand times over if it brought him even a slither of the happiness he supplied to you. 

It's then you run through your next steps with trained precision. You manage to run water over Bucky’s hair without getting any over his face, worried it may trigger him. You ignore the water in the bathtub, once transparent now a ruddy brown. And you silently open the bottle of shampoo, squeezing a generous amount onto your hands. 

“I’m about to climb in. Breathe for me, love.” You’re glad you wore shorts as you dip your foot into the water behind Bucky, swinging your leg over to sit on the ledge with your boyfriend between your thighs. A perfect position to stay close to him and provide him with the utmost care. 

Testing a tender touch upon his head and satisfied that Bucky is comfortable, you begin to lather the shampoo into his scalp. You relish in the grunts fighting their way through, the whimpers that climb up his throat, because this is the only way you know Bucky to finally cave in. Allow himself to be free from the shackles his mind clamps around him. Allow him to breach the prison he’s placed himself in. To come home to you. 

“That’s it, baby,” you murmur, purposely softening your voice to a gentle tone. “Let it out, I’ve got you. I’ll catch you.” 

As your nails scratch against his head, the first sob is released. You feel Bucky’s arms wrap around your thigh and his head lays itself upon you as his body begins to shake. You let him. The days worth of degradation and horror he’s allowed himself to relive escaping in this moment. 

“It's okay. Everything’s okay, Bucky.” It's a feat upon itself not to cry with him. A tear tracks down your cheek that you quickly wipe away with your shoulder because it’s your turn to be strong for him. To be the impenetrable wall he can lean on with the knowledge that he won’t fall. 

“I’m so sorry,” he weeps. You’re not sure whether he’s directing his words to you or someone else you’re not privy to. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” 

“Shh.” Your desire to make everything okay for him burns bright. “None of that now, okay? You’re here. With me. I’ve got you.” 

There’s a hole in his heart that’s never ending. Deep and wide and burrowed too far for anyone to try and stitch back together. You’ve tried. Though this kind of damage was irreparable. 

The good days always outweighed the bad. Bucky had come so far along in his healing journey for that to be untrue. But when the demons came out to play, there was no room for anyone else to hold a hand for him to grab on to. Bucky was dragged down into the dungeons of hell, locked away until the monsters had gotten their fix. 

Rinsing the soap out of his hair, Bucky’s wails begin to calm, the tidal wave having hit its peak and descending back down. You keep him close to you, no mind in how wet your clothes are, and quietly hum a tune. 

Your lullaby is eventually the only sound in the room, each note having the desired effect of soothing Bucky into a sense of peace. His limbs have loosened, his shoulders no longer stiff. And you wait ever so patiently for him to break the ice. 

That moment comes when you reach for the bottle of conditioner, beginning to apply it to the ends of Bucky’s hair. “Y-You’re so good to me.” While more stable, his voice still trembles. “Why are you so good to—to me?” 

You thin your lips, willing the cracks in your heart not to spread further than they already have. Grabbing the comb, you start to gently tease your way through the knots matting the strands of his chocolate locks. “That’s because you deserve it, baby,” you say confidently. “You deserve to be taken care of.” 

Bucky sighs, a heavy weight behind it. His next declaration falls from him quietly yet deafening. “Sometimes I don’t think I do.” 

“I know.” With a gentle push of your fingers underneath his chin, Bucky looks up at you, eyes sorrowful and still so beautiful. You lean down to kiss his forehead, then his nose and at last his lips. Against them, you seal your truth. “But believe me when I say it’s easy to love you. Like nothing else I’ve ever done before, no matter what goes on up here.” You tap by the side of his temple twice. “I’m in love with you on your bad days just as much as your good days. There’s no running away from that, Bucky. And I’ll prove that to you every single time, for as long as you need me to.”

His voice is hopeful when he strains out a choked, “Yeah?”” 

You hope your eyes display your conviction. “Every damn time, baby. I’ll bring you back to me.” 

Bucky’s eyes close at the sensation of your loving touch and promises. “I’d like that.” 

Kissing his lips one last time, you lean back up, setting aside the comb and grabbing the washcloth. Bucky stays unmoving, nuzzled into your thigh and so you begin to massage the muscle of his shoulders, humming your song once again. 

“Me too, Bucky.” 

You can’t fix him, you know that. Bucky is a man, tortured by memories and a past that stripped him of basic human rights. But you’re devoted to picking up the pieces he leaves behind, handing them over for him to glue back together. And if you found yourself slowly healing the cracks with your care and utter adoration for him for the rest of your life, you wouldn’t be mad about it. 

Because no matter what Bucky thought of himself, there was no doubt in your mind that he deserved your love. 

[gyodragon]

POST GRIFFITH TORTURE RENASSIANCE!!! i keep staring at your art of griffith's broken stare with the bandages wrapped across his face and his emaciated little corpse beside guts...

I read this ao3 fic about his struggle with recovery in an aftermath where he doesn't go apeshit. *offers it to you gently* https://archiveofourown.org/works/609721

it made me think, as a certified griffith expert, what do you think his recovery may have looked like? could anything possibly have still made him happy after all of that... or at least minorly not-miserable? what kinds of things do you think he'd enjoy in such a state?

would he even try to grow out his hair?

The Renaissance that really constricts our hearts!! I remember when first learning Berserk, it was the transformation Griffith has after the torture that got its hooks into me and compelled me to read the series. The rest is history. Thank you so much btw! I've only drawn him a few times but it feels like more in my heart. Thank you for sending that fic my way! (I'm super into gen fic and that is a good one) *Certified Griffith Expert* AHH! That's sweet! I'd like a badge or something after this long LOL. First off, this ask has given me SUCH AN ITCH to pick 'Iron Hawk' back up (my fan project about Griffith being rescued from the Tower early and the aftermath of that. It's my baby) I'm thinking about maybe using a different, more sustainable format by writing multi-chapter fanfiction with accompanying illustrations. But I assume you mean a scenario about his recovery after the canon full year of torture. Interesting. I actually haven't put a ton of thought into that because, morbidly, I have a hard time imagining any outcome after that amount of trauma where he isn't doomed. So assuming this is a world in which he is able to make some progress in his recovery that allows him to regain some mobility and use of his hands, I could see a return of the bandit era. I could see Judeau with his ingenuity and the help of other Hawks working together to fashion him a kind of wheelchair. A Merlin chair wouldn't fit with the time period but you get the idea! Maybe he eventually uses a cane and back brace. He grows his hair out but it never comes back as thick or as long. He shows his face again but rotates a collection of partial porcelain masks to cover the worst of his scars. If his hands heal enough, he learns sign language, writes with the tip of his finger in people's palms and writes with a large pen or quill. (edit: I've recently been totally swayed by your post about him relearning to speak and whispering to his trusted inner circle. I'm SOLD) I think his band would continue to whittle down until only the most loyal remained. The core members who would inevitably transform back into his friends. He used to protect himself from 'friends' with compartmentalization when they were among the thousands of Hawks under his command. I think that Griffith's life during recovery would be hell but he could find happiness in his inner circle reducing to a small group. Like when he was a kid. I think with the deterioration of his body, it could be possible that his mind goes into overdrive. The frail, mute, mysterious general who is even more of a political/military genius. No more White Hawk. He is just 'Griffith' or 'General' or 'The prisoner'. After enough banditry and roaming, the group reclaims a comfortable position in a land away from political enemies. Griffith gives up on his dream and focuses on fulfilling the promise of his vision to just these few people. He is even able to preform Robin Hood-like feats in the countryside. Outlaw goodness, that sort of thing. He doesn't retire himself though. I have a dark outlook. I think he probably satisfies himself with this twilight campaign, sees his remaining friends in positions of security and wealth and when all is said and done he eventually claims his own life. I think Guts is the last one with him when he is finally finished.

[thiscityneedslessfog]

Yosuke is an awesome character and I need to talk about him, and how he’s a perfect representation of how your ties to a land are your ties to its people.

When we first encounter him in Inaba, he’s a bit of an isolated wreck—his dad is the manager of Junes’ Yasoinaba chapter, and Yosuke is isolated and mistreated for it, a reason completely outside of his control. When two women see him in his Rank 2, they start talking about how Junes is overtaking and closing down businesses in Inaba. (I could probably do an analysis as to why I think Junes is important to the themes of the story but this is about Yosuke)

As it stood, Saki Konishi and Chie Satonaka were the only two people with a genuinely friendly rapport with him by the time Yu Narukami came to Inaba. (It’s no wonder he was so distraught over Saki, especially since he’s heavily implied to have become so attached he developed a crush on her.) And Yosuke is used to this isolation. To the point Saki’s kindness towards him is startling enough that, again, he developed a crush on her. He got that attached to her. And Jiraiya even calls him out on it because he’s repressed and numbed that pain so hard.

And in his Rank 8, he’s actually vulnerable for one of the only times in the game other than the scene with Jiraiya, and doesn’t really know how to respond to being met with genuine affection and sympathy. This kid is so isolated he doesn’t really know how to react, so… he just calls Yu a dumbass.

even ignoring the fact I ship these two this scene is so damn sweet AUGH

When Jiraiya is encountered and we get introduced to Shadow Selves, Jiraiya accuses Yosuke of trying to stop the Midnight Channel Killings because of his boredom. Which understandably upsets Yosuke, since the main reason is really trying to find closure over Saki’s death. (Again, shadows are not the full person, as much as they’d like to pretend they are. They’re parts of you that are upset about being repressed. Fragments. They’re you, but not all of you.) But… Jiraiya’s not lying when he says Yosuke is genuinely bored out of his mind and trying to be a hero. I wonder if a part of the reason Yosuke wants to be a hero is out of desperation to not be so isolated in Inaba. He’s been demonized by most of Inaba thanks to who his father is, and he had only two friends at this point, and one just got murdered.

It’s touched upon in Yosuke’s Rank 9, where he tells Yu about the reason for that desire to be a hero. Not just to protect others, but to mean something to someone else—something he’s shown to need, and told by his own repression made sentient he desperately, desperately needs—something to get himself out of isolation.

At the point of the confrontation with Jiraiya, Yosuke was pretty detached from Inaba, and Saki (who is now dead) and Chie were his only two reasons to like it, which was the main reason he was so bored, he couldn’t find any proper ways to attach. In his Rank 8, he actually talks about how Saki managed to lighten his view of Inaba.

And then he starts to develop more of a friend group. With Yu, becoming closer with Yukiko, befriending Kanji, Teddie, Rise, Naoto, becoming closer with Chie.

And he slowly grows more and more genuinely attached to Inaba. His ties with its residents become stronger and stronger, and that’s what truly makes him love the can-barely-be-called-a-city of Inaba.

I really want to emphasize those last two lines of dialogue. There’s still necessarily nothing in particular to keep him entertained by the city. But the people around him, his support network, who protect him from feeling isolated, who comfort him when he’s being mistreated just for being the manager’s kid when he has no power over that… these people, who he’s allowed to be vulnerable with and lean on, to hug and have a friendly brawl with, people he can laugh with and exchange little things they both like together with… he has that. And now Inaba feels so much brighter, just because of that.

To be honest, it’s a little relatable when I put it that way. Not sure how much I want to disclose about myself, though. But man… I love Yosuke. I love this arc so much, dude.

[aninipanin1]

I am currently listening to classical music, and it reminded me of Your Lie In April, and I suddenly had a thought, so please bear with me:(

Violinist!Reader and Ex!Pianist!Sae who met you in the old music building he used to practice in when he was younger.

For some odd reason, he felt compelled to listen to your spry version of Beethoven's Spring Sonata. It was full of energy and passion, its colour reminiscent of a bright sunny day running through a field of flowers, with nothing but naive thoughts running through the persona's mind.

Personally, he is more of a classical player. Playing pieces from Mozart, Haydn, or even doing some early works of composers like Beethoven or Schubert. It fits his elegant and smart playing more than the passionate and dramatic Romantic era of music.

However, something about the way you translated the usual sonata was different. It felt like you were speaking to him with words, words filled with enthusiasm, joy and weirdly, peace.

It was like a person with a youthful personality, yet a soul and wisdom of an old lady. And simply, because the look in your eyes reminded him of his young self. His young self before he went to Spain to learn more about music and himself, but instead he lost himself, nowhere to be found anymore.

However, that all changed when you stopped playing, and you both started talking for a while. You were annoying, absolutely so. You were helpless, stubborn, and so irrevocably and disgustingly...sweet.

He doesn't like how every time you try to involve him in conversations, never forgetting that he was even there beside you (he had tons of friends do that before) or even making sure to listen to his one liners his heart would start to flutter uncontrollably.

It wasn't a surprise to him to find out you join a few local competitions. You were not bad at your craft and so you deserve to be on that stage of course. However, you do need an accompanist. So you asked him.

At first, he vehemently told you no. Like a huge, capitalized, and bold NO.

He VOWED to never touch that cursed instrument ever again. He had some things to focus on now, such as football. He won't let anything get in the way of that.

However, through a miracle (and a little stubborness from you and a lil alliance between you and Rin) he managed to say yes and went to the event to accompany you.

You were a lil diva with it too, choosing to pick a Mozart piece, knowing full well it was a part of his identity when he gained his fame as a child. Mozart E Minor Sonata No. 21. How long has it been since he even touched any music sheets or read a music note? Years.

He did have like three sessions with you to train the whole piece, but any professional know that that was not enough, especially to win a goddamn recital.

But you insisted, and the performance was a mess. His once calculative, elegant, and perfect playstyle was not even there. Instead it felt like a shrill cry from an infant, preventing everyone to even hear or find your part listenable because the accompaniment was so loud.

But, you did not waver. No, instead, you just smiled before playing even harder and better. Sae was internally panicking though, he has never gone to a recital without atleast practicing a piece a hundred times! What was he doing ruining his already shattered career in music?!

But for a while, at least, he let himself fall deep into the embrace of music once again. And this time, you also awaited him with open arms.

The moment the music ended, the people were still shocked at what they had just witnessed. It felt like a fight. But it wasn't the dog fight kind of sound, but more of a fencing fight between two pros with nothing but respect and admiration for the other.

Itoshi Sae sweated. He felt like he became a little more human in that performance. Like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon.

Has playing ever felt this liberating before?

Then he turned to you, who immediately hugged him in the back stage, thanking him for doing his best even if he was in a stump.

He was supposed to be in a stump. He couldn't write anything anymore, he couldn't even get himself to play atleast one note and whenever Rin would press atleast one note from the grand piano in their house, Sae would look at him with a glare, like a cat feeling threatened as it straighten its tail.

But now... maybe, just maybe. This stump, his period of passionless, dry, and fatal search for his talent and dreams in the wide dessert of life. He found an oasis, one that could bring him vitality and, hopefully, even a direction in life's dessert.

That was all he was thinking about as he kept his eyes on you, bowing and chatting amicably with the staff as the next performance happened.

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[silver-cyn]

A fic for the TGCF discord Valentine prompt - as you wish.

Always In My Heart

Read it here on A03.

Xie Lian loved him. 

The thought still struck Hua Cheng in a way he could never quite put into words. Like a blade aimed at his heart only for a kiss to land on his lips instead.

His expression darkened when he remembered how Xie Lian had come to harm on his birthday last year and suffered literal heart pain over him.

(don’t think about the state preceptor's divination, don’t think about Xie Lian going against all of heaven to save him as a child)

Instead, Hua Cheng remembered: 

“I’m very good at bearing pain. If you’re by my side, I can stand it. If you’re gone…it will be unbearable…”

Before those words, Hua Cheng had been cursing his uselessness all over again to protect his beloved. All his power, all his strength and still he’d been helpless. Just like during the battle with the emperor, just like in the fucking temple…

Breathe San Lang. 

Xie Lian’s comforting words grounded him as they always did even in his absence. Hua Cheng took a deep breath, unclenched his fist, and blinked dispassionately at the crescent moons left on his skin. He shook his hand, and they disappeared as if he’d painted over them anew.

The point was, Xie Lian’s words had solidified like a punch to the gut how much he loved Hua Cheng. It was incredible, unbelievable and more than anything Hua Cheng had ever imagined. Every night he thanked his god for his blessings. One might think he meant their heated moments of intimacy where he worshipped Xie Lian’s body all night long. And while that was true, it also included him actually visiting his god's temple to express his gratitude.

Xie Lian knew him to be sincere, but when he'd heard Hua Cheng's actual prayers and his reasons, his face had lit up with overwhelming affection as he tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

Yet really, how could Hua Cheng not do so knowing he was the most blessed creature on this wretched planet to have the love of his beloved after so many centuries?

Every day was a joy, a blessing, a new discovery, another adventure, another moment in their daily life that he cherished and held close to his dead, unbeating heart.

So yes, Hua Cheng was in the honeymoon phase of his relationship with Xie Lian and probably always would be.

With all that said, was it any wonder that he’d initially missed something was off with his beloved?

Hua Cheng blinked, allowing his silver butterflies to reveal Xie Lian’s spiritual power written into the very threads of his clothing. The simple yet heartfelt prayers glowed briefly white beneath his eyes. 

Keep him safe.

Bring him back to me.

Let no harm befall him.

Sweet. Considerate. Nothing to worry about on its own. In fact, Hua Cheng had done the very same for Xie Lian’s robes. (He remembered Xie Lian laughing at Hua Cheng's atrocious handwriting even as he'd peppered kisses over every inch of his face)

But there was more.

“Good to see you, Your Highness. Hua Chengzhu really pulled through for me in a pinch. He’s a good friend,” Pei Ming slapped Hua Cheng’s shoulder, one hundred percent ignoring Hua Cheng’s glare.

“We’re not friends. I did you a favor. You owe me now. That’s all,” Hua Cheng shrugged off his arm and very intentionally moved to Xie Lian’s side. 

“Isn’t that how all good friendships start?” Pei Ming said with a grin.

Xie Lian smiled with bemusement and a clear question at Hua Cheng.

“Just some boring business with Heavenly officials not competent enough to do their jobs without my help,” Hua Cheng said with a pointed look at Pei Ming. 

“Well, it’s not like I can pretend to be ghost bait myself, can I? I —”

“What did you say?” 

The quick shift in tone was so abrupt, it stopped Pei Ming’s words in their tracks. Hua Cheng had been distracted by Xie Lian’s loveliness and had started thinking of ways to whisk him away early from heavenly business. Yet even he was pulled from his musings at the tone of his voice. 

“Your Highness, it was truly nothing. Just a pesky demon with a particular taste for —”

“Ghosts? And you decided that putting my husband in danger was your best option?”

Pei Ming closed his mouth with an audible click. Xie Lian was completely serious, and the steel in his voice made Pei Ming's fingers spasm. He just barely checked the urge to reach for his sword. 

“Your Highness, your Ghost King’s power is near unsurpassed. There was never any danger,” Pei Ming tried to appease to no avail. 

“Oh? If that’s the case, please use yourself to your full capabilities next time before burdening San Lang with your problems. Is that clear?”

Pei Ming nodded automatically. He looked to Hua Cheng but the Ghost King paid him no mind. His attention was solely focused on Xie Lian.

“It won’t happen again, Your Highness,” Pei Ming said with a quick bow and an even quicker exit.

Once Pei Ming was well out of sight, Hua Cheng pulled Xie Lian closer and whispered in his ear about how beautiful he’d looked telling Pei Ming off and how much Hua Cheng wanted to carry him home right now and…

“San Lang!” Xie Lian blushed and buried his face in his hands.

 

But he hadn’t said no. In fact, he’d swept Hua Cheng off his feet and carried him home after rolling the dice. 

Hua Cheng set the robes aside and wandered thoughtfully around the room. His hands brushed the rumpled red sheets of their bed, picked up the tossed aside scroll and calligraphy brush from the floor.

Xie Lian’s calligraphy stared up at him, beautiful as ever, yet with a distinctly vivid it that sent an unconscious shiver down his spine. The aggressive strokes reminded him of another incident.

“San Lang! Watch out!” Xie Lian dropped in front of Hua Cheng and slammed his fist directly into the demon. The combined strength and spiritual power behind it obliterated the enemy completely leaving no trace of it behind except for its last dying scream.

Hua Cheng stared with one raised eyebrow at Xie Lian who turned to him with worry on his face.

“San Lang, are you okay?" He questioned, taking Hua Cheng’s hand to check it thoroughly. Seeing no injuries there, he glided his hands over his arms, his torso while his eyes inspected lower. 

“Gege, I’m fine,” Hua Cheng tried to reassure him but Xie Lian spun him around to check his backside.

After confirming he actually was all right, Xie Lian finally relaxed.

“Good, I’m glad. Sorry to drop in like that. It was sneaking up on you.”

A blatant lie that Hua Cheng didn’t call him out on, too charmed and awed by Xie Lian effectively ending the demon’s life in one punch.

“Actually gege, I think I have some pain here,” Hua Cheng said. Xie Lian’s eyes briefly flashed with fear, but relief and fond exasperation replaced it when he saw Hua Cheng pointing at his lips.

“Ah, sorry San Lang.  I think I have something that can help,” Xie Lian said. No sooner had the words left his mouth then he slotted their mouths together for a kiss. 

 

It was easy to get lost in their kiss. It was easy to block all the grumbling from his Highness' mouthy servants. Yet, in the quiet of their bedroom now, he recalled that Xie Lian's arms, locked around him with immovable strength and equal tenderness, had trembled just the slightest. 

Something was troubling Xie Lian. 

 

***

Something was troubling Xie Lian.

They had just finished sparring in the spacious armory when suddenly Xie Lian let out a sound of distress. 

“Your Highness, what’s wrong?” Feng Xin asked. He turned to Xie Lian after setting his borrowed weapon aside.

“My necklace. I can’t find it,” Xie Lian patted his neck frantically, face bloodless and eyes wide as his fingers came up empty no matter how often he checked his robes and bandages. 

“The one with the ring on the end? Did you take it off before sparring with us?” Mu Qing asked. His sharp eyes were already searching the room for it.

“No, no. I never take it off,” Xie Lian said. He tossed his weapon carelessly aside to frantically search the nearby area.

“Feng Xin, Mu Qing. Please help me find it. It’s a precious gift from San Lang,” Xie Lian said. 

That guy , Mu Qing thought in annoyance, but seeing Xie Lian so unusually upset gave him pause and the words went no further than his mind.  

Instead, Mu Qing exchanged a look with Feng Xin and they nodded at each other. Feng Xin went to check the display of weapons and Mu Qing the other areas of the room Xie Lian had yet to search.

Time passed and still there was no sign of it.

“Your Highness, let’s rest for a moment before we continue our search,” Feng Xin said, patting Xie Lian’s shoulder.

“No, no, I can’t. I have to find it,” Xie Lian said, not even bothering to look up. 

“We’ve spent nearly an incense time looking for it. I have other business to attend to in a few hours that still need preparation. Look, if your little trinket is in here, it’s not going anywhere. The worst case scenario if you can't find it will be asking Hua Cheng to buy you a new one,” Mu Qing said, crossing his arms. 

“I know it's difficult for you to remember sometimes, but let me remind you there are some things money can’t replace,” Xie Lian said coldly.

As soon as the words were said, he gasped and covered his mouth. Mu Qing visibly flinched and Feng Xin’s shocked gaze flitted between the two.

“Mu Qing, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” Xie Lian said, reaching a hand out to his friend. Mu Qing sidestepped him, rolled his shoulders and shrugged it off. 

“Yes you did, but forget it. I’ve said shittier stuff about you before,” Mu Qing said.

“That doesn’t make it okay," Xie Lian said softly. He looked away for a moment, then, turning back to them, he squared his shoulders and gave a small bow.

"Your Highness!" They exclaimed. Feng Xin pulled him up at once, and it was only because he was closer that Mu Qing stopped from doing the same. 

"Please forgive my short temper just now. I truly appreciate the help you provided. My friends, don't trouble yourself anymore over this. If you can, please bear with me a little more, and see yourselves out. I really must find that necklace," Xie Lian said. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, digging his nails into his skin to keep outright panic from overtaking him.

"Xie Lian, what's this really about?" Mu Qing demanded, taking a step closer to him. 

Xie Lian dug his nails deeper into his skin. “I just...I just can’t lose him again.” 

Now that caught Mu Qing’s attention. “What do you mean? Who?”

“San Lang of course. That ring…it’s…”

And both Feng Xin's and Mu Qing’s eyes widened at Xie Lian’s next words.

“How could you be so stupid to lose track of it?” Mu Qing said in disbelief.

"I know. Believe me, I know!"

"Fucking hell! Xie Lian! You need to secure that lock with extra spiritual power. Unbelievable!"

"I said I know, all right! Gods, after everything San Lang and I have been through, how could I --"

“Wait, wait, wait!" Feng Xin interjected.

Both men looked at him.

"Can’t we just ask Crimson Rain to find it? The ring is most likely in this room still. There's no reason he can't find it, right?" Feng Xin pointed out.

“Oh," Xie Lian said, face flushing slightly. He cleared his throat, and his two friends quickly looked away when he scrubbed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his temple.

"San Lang?"

"Why are you saying his name aloud?" Mu Qing grumbled.

"Will you shut up!?!" Feng Xin said, shoving Mu Qing's shoulder. 

***

The ring was found, and Xie Lian’s tension immediately eased once he slipped it around his neck again. He kissed the ring, kissed Hua Cheng, hugged him tightly and then repeated the process all over again much to his friends' dismay. 

Normally Hua Cheng would've basked in delight, but all he felt was concern when he saw Xie Lian's red eyes, pale face and held his trembling body close to his own. 

"Gege, are you --" 

“I'm fine, San Lang! Really!" Xie Lian smiled a far too wide smile at Hua Cheng, eyes closed in near crescent moons. 

"Mu Qing, come with me, please? There’s something I want to get from the kitchen for you before you leave,” Xie Lian said finally releasing Hua Cheng. He stepped over to Mu Qing’s side, not in the least deterred by the look of disgust on Mu Qing’s face.

“What the hell?!? I thought you weren’t mad at me anymore.”

Xie Lian laughed and waved his hands in front of his face.

“I’m not, I’m not. It’s a treat Hua Cheng’s staff made for us today. I think you’ll find it delightful. Take some back for Feng Xin too. Come on.”

Hua Cheng’s eyes followed after the two men. 

“This is because of my ashes?” Hua Cheng asked once the two other men were out of earshot.

Feng Xin nodded awkwardly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as he filled Hua Cheng in on the details. 

“What's wrong with him?” Feng Xin asked bluntly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with his Highness,” Hua Cheng said, his tone scathing. Feng Xin's face flushed red, but he didn't back down.

“Don’t be stupid. You know what I mean, and you know you’re not the only one who cares about His Highness. We’re worried,” Feng Xin said, slashing his hand in front of him in frustration.

Hua Cheng turned just enough for Feng Xin to see his profile which, with the eyepatch covering his eye, did an effective job of making his expression even more unreadable. 

“I have some speculations,” Hua Cheng said finally. “And no, I won’t share them. It’s none of your business.” 

Feng Xin was about to open his mouth when Hua Cheng continued.

“Unless he calls for you sooner, come back in three days to see him yourself,” Hua Cheng said and then turned to follow after Xie Lian.  Feng Xin's mouth dropped open, but thankfully Hua Cheng didn't look back. This gave Feng Xin privacy to process that Heaven’s most terrifying threat had, of his own accord, invited them back to his home. 

***

In all the centuries that had passed, Xie Lian had never forgotten the smiling white mask belonging to that faithful black clad youth. The one who’d followed him into the depths of despair and death, and dirtied his hands to fulfil Xie Lian's wish for vengeance. 

The one who’d known him even when he hadn't known himself and at Xie Lian’s lowest moment offered kindness in the form of a small, white flower. 

His heart ached to remember how he’d treated such comfort, stomping that fragile flower into the ground and everything it reminded him of at the time. 

And yet that wasn't the worst of it. 

Xie Lian’s heart pounded in his chest at the sight of that hateful calamity gently caressing the side of Wu Ming’s mask. Nausea rumbled in his stomach and clawed at his throat to see those same fingers tilt Wu Ming's neck to the side, exposing the vulnerable flesh to the blade’s edge in a tender promise of violence.

“Please,” Xie Lian begged. “Don’t hurt him.”

He strained with his all his might to break the chains binding his arms and legs, but it was futile. 

“You said it yourself, Your Highness. He’s already dead.”  That half crying, half-smiling mask turned to address Wu Ming. “Isn’t that right?”

Wu Ming nodded.

Xie Lian couldn't deny his words, he could only repeat his plea.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“It’s all right, your Highness." Dear Wu Ming this time. "To die for you is –”

The sound of the blade slicing through flesh sent visceral pain through Xie Lian's body. It was nothing though compared to the deafening wail of his breaking heart.

“You killed him!”

Finally, that madman was within reach. Xie Lian picked him up by the throat, knocking the other’s mask off in the struggle. When finally the other's face was revealed, it wasn't the face of the past emperor…

 

…but his own. 

“No, Your Highness. We killed him!”

Xie Lian woke up with a gasp.

***

Xie Lian was known by many names.

The fallen prince of Xianle.

The laughingstock of the heavens.

The god of misfortune.

Yet tonight, he was only what he ever truly was – a man, painfully human, weeping in the arms of his beloved over a wrath ghost without a name who made the ultimate sacrifice for him. 

It was a day Xie Lian had vowed never to forget, and never had until that youth returned to him a man, and gave him the most precious gift Xie Lian had ever received.

Heart filled with all his love for Hua Cheng, happiness clinging to every part of him at just being in his presence, let alone being allowed to share a life with him...

…was it any wonder he’d forgotten the day that Wu Ming had died until the day had already passed? Yet some part of him must have remembered and tried to…wanted to…

When Xie Lian's tears eventually dried up, and he'd shared all the words that could be said, Xie Lian sniffled and slumped fully against Hua Cheng.

Hua Cheng tucked Xie Lian as close to him as possible and pulled the blankets over them. Xie Lian eventually fell back asleep wrapped in Hua Cheng's unnatural warmth, heart soothed by every whispered declaration of love that fell from his lips.

***

“San Lang, I’ve caused so much trouble these past few days. I’m sorry,” Xie Lian said. The entire day had been spent with Hua Cheng by his side, pampering and spoiling him much to Xie Lian’s pleasure and Hua Cheng’s delight.

Now evening had come, and they were strolling through the outside corridors of Paradise Manor, enjoying the warm lantern lights and rippling sounds of the waters below the pagoda. In the distance, the raucous noise of Ghost City’s residents made for a warm ambiance that did more to make Xie Lian feel at home than the Heavenly officials ever had. 

“Never gege. You were hurting. I’m only sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner,” Hua Cheng responded, kissing the top of Xie Lian’s head. “As for the others: General Pei won’t hold it against you. And didn’t you already make amends with the Sweeping General?”

At Xie Lian’s thoughtful nod, Hua Cheng hugged him close. Once they pulled apart, they continued walking, Xie Lian twining their fingers together.

“San Lang? I have a request,” Xie Lian said breaking the silence once more. 

“Anything," Hua Cheng said without hesitation, pressing a kiss to their joined hands. 

“Hear me out first," Xie Lian said smiling softly. "I want you to carve another statue of us, but this time...I want it to be from our days together as the White Clothed Calamity and Wu Ming.”

Hua Cheng stopped them at his words and turned to face Xie Lian. Hua Cheng tucked a strand of hair behind Xie Lian's ear, his dark eye watching him carefully.

“Gege, I would do anything for you, but I hate to see you hurt. Why do you want to be reminded of the most painful time of your life?" 

Hua Cheng's concern curled around Xie Lian's aching heart like the softest petals embracing a butterfly. 

“There is pain in remembering, yes, and maybe a small part of me wants that," Xie Lian admitted. "I never want to forget the weight of my past actions, and the price paid for them." 

Sensing Hua Cheng's incoming protest, Xie Lian gently placed a finger over his lips 

"But more than that, so so much more than that, are my feelings of gratitude and awe that my most devoted believer never lost faith in me. You never gave up on me, and even saved me,” Xie Lian said and his smile was so sweet and tender it was a wonder Hua Cheng’s dead heart didn’t come back to life.

“You saved yourself, Your Highness, just like I knew you would. You only needed the opportunity to try again,” Hua Cheng embraced him and Xie Lian clung to him.

“And you gave it to me. I don’t ever want to forget that. Please San Lang,” Xie Lian said staring up at Hua Cheng. "Will you help me honor my most devoted believer?"

And really, what else could Hua Cheng say to that except: 

“As you wish.” 

[scribbbbbles]

ten people I'd like to get to know better!!!

thank you to @sacredsorceress for the tag!!

LAST SONG: francesca by hozier (i'm making a stucky edit to it rn...)

LAST BOOK: i'm currently reading leave me behind by k. m. moronova (it's soooo good i'm getting through it waaaayy too fast) but a few others i've read in february are quicksilver by callie hart and the whole of the red queen series by victoria aveyard. i've also reread a few of my "classics" fics as I call them -- not easily conquered by dropdeaddream and whatarefears and ain't no grave by spitandvinegar are must reads imo (both are stucky... but are we surprised?)

LAST TV SHOW: currently watching severance with my sorority sisters and ... it's really good guys like so good. i'm also constantly watching either supernatural, brooklyn 99, or new girl so those are options too.

LAST GOOGLE SEARCH: i was looking up community college courses to send to my university to get approved for transfer credits lolol (i can't do math guys i need an easier calc class)

LAST MOVIE: captain america: brave new world in theaters but the other night i watched hacksaw ridge (i'm clearly going through something because wtf??? who does that????)

SWEET/SAVORY/SPICY: it's so in incredibly dependent on the mood but all. i love spicy, i love savory, and i always have a sweet treat. i'm eating hot cheetos rn tho so i guess spicy? if you need an exact answer.

FAVORITE COLOR: i love greens. dark bluey gray greens, sage green, pale greens-- i'm a natural redhead and it's just always the color that's looked the best on me :) i'm also a huge fan of a pale yellow or a deep grayish blue.

LOOKING FORWARD TO: daredevil: born again, my spring break (I'm going to see my little brother at his college in philly!) thunderbolts*, the weather to consistently be 65, the tattoo i'm getting in a week !!

CURRENT OBSESSIONS: stucky has really been rearing it's head back into my life since january and with it comes my insane wwii hyperfixation (see above how i watched hacksaw ridge just because), learning to edit (its so hard but so rewarding), reading (but that's pretty consistent), and my kitty cat (also consistent)

tagging: @graylilacs, @dairygrrl, @kxalive, and anyone reading!!!

[eraserbread]

who else is up thinkin about older married!satosugu? because i am.

older married!satosugu have been together for yearssss, heading toward 15 with half of those in marriage.

when suguru and satoru signed their wedding papers all those years ago, they were totally fine with the thought of never sleeping with a woman again. after all, they get everything they need from each other -- including an active and very satisfying sex life.

living abroad, it's easier to exist as a same-sex couple. especially financially. it's one of the reasons they married as a real estate broker and university professor.

only one issue: satoru lectures at your university, but its not where he meets you. it's at a bar that his husband helped sell, that they also own half of -- hear me outttt

they second you offically become theirs, it's like your shoulders became weightless. you stopped paying for rent, could work enough just to pay down your car note, and had endless tutoring access thanks to your boyfriend, satoru . suguru works from home most of the time, which makes it a little too accessible to be around them. they owned a beautiful home in the city, a five minute walk from campus. suguru's kitchen is magnificent and always stocked. they just can't keep you away.

the best part is, undoubtedly, the sex. i mean -- they know how to be and talk to each other so well, but their sacred, mutual mission was always you in the bedroom.

sometimes suguru would hold you back as satoru fucks you so deep and passionately. he'd kiss over your ear and speak in a tone so sweet you'd dream about it, but is talking to satoru the entire time.

"-fuck, you see the way she's swallowing you up?" suguru's voice trembles out of his throat, fanning gojo like oxygen on flames.

"'s molded exactly to our shapes, baby." satoru hisses, lean muscles in his stomach working as he drags every single inch out of you. it leaves you open and empty, pulling a broken moan from your throat.

satoru looks you directly in the eyes, sliding the side of his hand through your sensitive, puffy folds. in the excessive moisture, you can hear it, and it drives him crazy.

"clenchin' every time we talk." he chuckles so cruelly. "whining to us from both lips, how fucking needy."

[saintshigaraki]

if you see me spam rebloging all your kaiser posts again, know that that isn't me, its evil me (>:3) and that i can't be held accountable for my actions. fr though every time you post abt kaiser (or anyone really), im just like ahhh yes vic just dropped another gold egg and i must sit on it immediately

you're so me anon i go through my mutuals blogs all the time sniffing out their kaiser thoughts....also thank you <333 you're very sweet

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

//Okay, now that I'm a bit more relaxed again, I can share this.

I got a very sweet FFXIV themed tattoo. It is a very nice gift from my best friend and tattooist @saphies-art-station who plays and roleplays on FFXIV with me. The tattoo is a chibi depiction of our two characters sharing their Eternal Bond toasting, and it's been in the works for a while. I got it finished today.

It should be a happy day but I'm a bit down because I made the mistake of sharing this on the FFXIV subreddit first. Because I wanted to share it with people I thought loved the game like me and would celebrate my appreciation for it with me. This is what people usually do when they share a fandom, right?

No, instead I was met with snarks and ridicule, mostly from people who just dislike tattoos in general. Don't get me wrong, I know how reddit is, I should've known better than to trust it. But it's frustrating how difficult it is to even find a friendly FFXIV community to speak to outside of the game itself. I cannot access the official Forums anymore (very old and boring story, my account is permanently banned for what boiled down to language barrier issues as an ESL), and the subreddit is a nest of snakes with their tails in a twist. I don't use any other social media, so... I dunno, it just sucks to love something so much and have no one to share that love with.

So here I put my picture. There may not be many of you who play the game amongst my mutuals, but to the few who are, I'm happy to have you. I'm happy to be able to share things that bring me joy with you. I cherish you for any little fandom we have in common. Thank you for being here.

Thank you Saphie. I absolutely love these boys, and the way you manage to make me happy about my body even in spite of its horrible conditions. I love nothing more than to look in the mirror and not see my sclerosis. Only the love, care and skill you've put into every inch of your work on me. This is a gift I'll be forever happy to keep and show to everybody.

When I'm not whinging about the cold, that is. British weather needs an upgrade.

Saru-mun\\