#thank you anon for enabling me

[brella]

Peeta pov "She came here with me." ? or him planting the Primrose for her. ?

Haymitch had thought, at first, that he was joking. Peeta can hardly blame him. Who with half a brain would expect the truth from a Tribute? Joke or fable or bald-faced lie, it’s all the same—a good story on Caesar Flickerman’s show is the surest way to get sponsors. Only, Peeta could come up with better stories, and better lies besides, than being in love with Katniss Everdeen.

You’re a good showman, I’ll give you that, Haymitch had said, once he realized that Peeta was serious.

Peeta’s skin had crawled under the soft lighting in the suite. Making a show of what he felt for Katniss seemed immoral, somehow. It was meant to be a whisper under an oak tree, shaking hands and secret wants—not a tool, not a spectacle. Then again, he knows he’d never have the nerve to say it to her face. On live television, to an indifferent Panem, is much less frightening. And even though it’s sooner than later that he’s six feet under (as the old song goes), he doesn’t want that secret to be buried with him.

So: a show it is.

Caesar is almost blinding to look at in person. His immaculate wig, his sun-white teeth, his spray-tan and the baubles on his suit: Capitol excess incarnate. But he’s easy to talk to. Most people are when you’ve got years at the register under your belt, when saying the right thing to your mother could spare you a bruise—Caesar, though, is something else entirely; he’s got a kind of charisma that could stop Death itself for a minute or two. Peeta can’t help but study him. Everything is measured, everything has value: timing, cadence, eye contact. It’s easier to mirror than Peeta expects.

“Tell me,” Caesar says, once the pleasantries and banter have run their course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

Even though just about every Tribute, every Games, gets that question from Caesar, Peeta has to wonder if Haymitch had pulled some strings. His pulse quickens with anticipation, but he keeps his cool. Be coy. Build suspense.

“Nah,” he says, slipping in a little of a District 12 drawl. It makes for a bashful tone. “Not really.”

He has to make it obvious he’s fibbing, but not too obvious. He ducks his eyes, focusing on the tips of his shoes. Patent leather. Probably cost enough to feed a family. Have other Tributes worn these? Surely the cost would make it impractical not to reuse them.

“No? I don’t believe it for a second! Look at that face!” Caesar exclaims. “Handsome man like you…”

Oh, Peeta thinks. So I’m a man now.

“Peeta.” Caesar leans in, so congenial, so inviting. Behind his charming eyes, though, Peeta sees nothing. Nothing to recognize or remember. “Tell me.”

Now is the time. Make them ask you twice before you answer. Peeta can feel the audience’s attention, swelling in the room, almost symphonic.

“Well, there, uh…” He pauses, gathering his guts. That’s where the best acting comes from, he’s found: truth. “There is this one girl that… I’ve had a crush on forever.”

Crush—so half-baked, flourless—but he knows the Capitol will eat it up. Sure enough, Caesar nods his head, eyes twinkling.

“But,” Peeta goes on, “I don’t think she actually… recognized me until the Reaping.”

That, too, is the truth. Why should Katniss remember him at all? She had lived—she had not died. That was all that mattered. What she remembered from that rainy day, he expected, was the hunger—a kind of hunger he had never had to know.

What he remembers is her face—clearer than his mother’s fists, clearer than the pain.

Clearer than any pain in the world.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, Peeta,” Caesar says—almost encouraging, like an uncle giving advice to his favorite nephew. It’s the first time in the interview that Peeta has felt genuinely, truly sick. “You go out there, and you win this thing—and when you get home? She’ll have to go out with you.” He turns back to the audience, drawn by the sound of applause. “Right, folks?!”

There’s that laugh of his: brassy, gleaming, perfectly rhythmic and perfectly pitched. Peeta’s body wants to laugh along, purely on instinct. He lets a fraction of it through. Just a fraction.

“Thanks, but, uh… I don’t think winning’s gonna help me at all.”

“And why not?”

Here. Right here. Peeta’s breath shakes on its way out of him, hollow at the center. How to answer? How to explain to Caesar Flickerman, to the glittering Capitol, to the Districts who couldn’t give a damn about him—how to explain Katniss Everdeen’s braid in the sunlight on the walk to school, the gentle clarity with which she’d sung the Valley Song, the sight of her and Gale Hawthorne and their pocket-knife-smiles in the schoolyard, the devotion that she had to her sister, the calluses along her fingers from a bowstring—how to make them understand the constant, quiet heat of her, and all the winters of life through which it had kept him warm?

This is the time to be exact. A sound bite is worth a thousand speeches. If you’re gonna do it, Haymitch had said, with a kind of cutthroat pride, do it so it breaks their hearts.

“Because she came here with me,” Peeta says.

[jackstheprinceofhearts]

Someone said that they ship Chaos with Evangeline, and I'm not sure if I should be scared or not.

How do you feel about this information, be honest

hi!! thank you for the ask!!!

i'll be so fr with you right now... that is terrifying. i'm sorry if you ship eva with anyone BUT jacks something is not right in the head.

CHAOS HAD LIKE ONE HOT SCENE AND THAT WAS IT AND HE WAS LITERALLY JUST HOLDING EVA DOWN ON THE BED 😭 and that scene was just there to show jacks's jealousy and eva's attraction to him. also chaos can't even control himself around evangeline with the helmet off, jacks has a literal curse where he has to kiss people and he literally has so much more self control than chaos 😭 like chaos was just hungry

i am scared, i hope they get the therapy they obviously need

[meownotgood]

and what are our thoughts on bottom catboy aki? catboy aki, ass in the air, begging you to fuck him. catboy aki so desperate for your touch that he's already cum twice and is practically crying but he's begging you to keep going? catboy aki who mewls with every thrust and his eyes roll into the back of his head when you grab his tail?

catboy aki who grinds against you, his tail swishing back and forth, panting hard. you can feel how hard he is, how he's practically throbbing with need. his heat has been so horrible on him recently, even more than usual. he just really needs you to touch him, to fuck him — god, he can't take it anymore.

you make him cum over and over again, you jerk him off until he's whining and his ears are folding and he's spilling ropes of his spend over your hand. you fuck him until his eyes are rolling into the back of his head and he's gripping the pillow with his claws and cumming all over the sheets. he's sweating all over, he whimpers when you stroke his ears and tug a little on his tail. his collar is jingling with every thrust you take into him.

and still, even after making him cum more times than you think he can take, he's begging for more, he's humping the bed and getting himself hard again. he's staring back at you with big, pleading eyes, his thighs shaking, his pretty little ass in the air as he begs for you to take him just one more time.

[cyberllfe]

I got 1300 words! (Which you can absolutely shorten if you don’t feel like writing that much, absolutely understand as a writer.) and I would adore a “Shag me” prompt with Connor 🥴 if you feel up for it. My thoughts on this request (and you can adjust and add to because you’re a great story writer and I trust you) would be a female reader who works as a receptionist at the station (human preferably) and has known Connor since he first came to the department. Soon after his deviancy, they navigate a sort of awkward almost-friends-nearly-more type of relationship and stumble unto a slow romance, until Connor discovers the human emotion horny. It would be amazing if it could be at an awkward time too, like while watching a movie together or at work. I’ve been reading your pieces on AO3 and I truly think you are a talented writer, sending you all my love and inspiration💞💞💞💞

thanks for waiting, anon. connor will see you now. (ao3 link) 1300 words, rated E.

want a turn? prompt me.

It’s been raining all day—classic Detroit November—but all anyone can talk about is the guy who died, his escaped android, and the android investigator in the precinct. You’ve caught a glimpse of him more than once since yesterday, and this time is no different: he comes trotting in after Lieutenant Anderson, covered in glistening droplets of rain and speaking very insistently about something you can’t hear.

“That’s him.”

Your eyes would have slid right past him if not for the intensity in his face. He’s single-minded, emphatic... for all the good it does him. Anderson rolls his eyes and pushes Connor out of his path, leaving him standing there, recalculating. Only then do you notice the LED.

It’s barely two seconds before he’s started after Anderson, calling his name.

“Looks good wet, doesn’t he?”

You don’t offer anything but a soft hum. The thought follows you for the rest of the day.

*

Connor precedes Hank into the building today. He surprises you by speaking to you instead of simply scanning in, and you feel… strange. The look in his eye is so human, almost anxious. With an awkward smile, you offer a reassuring platitude. You’re earnest, but the offer seems to confuse Connor. He thanks you anyway and leaves your desk.

Between jobs, you keep an eye on him. He’s so animated. It’s marked, the difference a handful of days makes—he paces back and forth, oscillating where Hank is static, following his trail of thought as if it were physical.

Neither notices you. The rude FBI agent doesn’t notice you either; too intent on getting into the Captain’s office, he chucks his ID at you with a cursory here you go, sweetheart and goes back to his phone.

The ID is fine. You let the jackass through, and hope he gets shouted down by Fowler, who could probably do with a good outlet for his repressed frustration.

You laugh, later, as two uniforms perform a dramatised version of Anderson’s right hook on Perkins, but it’s brittle. Your eyes are on the news, and the demonstration in the street, and the news anchor’s silent mouth framing the words what do they want? without listening to the answer. Connor had raced out of the station earlier, and caught your eye as he went. You hope he's okay, wherever he is.

*

“Excuse me.”

Brown eyes meet yours, familiar intensity tempered with... caution? Nerves? It’s hard to tell them apart on a face that was built to display but not feel.

Connor wears plain clothes with all the ease of a soldier. There’s no tie to straighten, so he clenches and unclenches his hand and lets his eyes wander. They find you smiling, tentative but warm behind your professional attitude.

“How can I help, Connor?”

He’s clearly unused to the question. It’s endearing, really, to watch him like this—the self-possessed turned self conscious, attempting to hide in the shadow projected by his own image, broadcast endlessly on the new cycles at Markus’ left hand.

“Is Lieutenant Anderson here?”

“No. I don’t think he will be, either. He left about an hour ago.”

When Connor sighs, you wonder if he picked that up to blend in with humans or to help him communicate better with them. Both, probably. His fist coils up again, but he gives you a slight smile as he turns to leave.

“Connor.”

He turns, mildly surprised, to face you when you call his name. His smile is late but warm.

With one hand you reach for his, and with the other you slide a business card into his palm. The touch seems to surprise him further, and he stares at your hand even as you withdraw it.

“If you’re looking for Hank, he’s here. Diner out on the edge of town. I thought you’d come by looking for him.”

You’re glad to notice that he doesn’t look as guarded as before. Connor’s not around every day, not anymore, but you see him often enough to watch him relax into himself—to laugh when you make a self-deprecating joke, or hold the door for Officer Miller’s excitable son. Instead, Connor seems thoughtful, like you handed him something heavier than a wedge of paper with a cartoon burger on it.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

To your surprise, he lingers. Spends enough time to ask you about your family, about the plant you keep on your desk, which you should water, by the way. You talk quietly with him about almost-dead houseplants, why you’re not allowed to play Monopoly at home over the holidays, and show him the family dog. All the while he’s leaning against the counter, one arm crooked atop it and grinning… you’re more than distracted. He leaves the foyer, eventually, but not your thoughts.

*

Laughter covers cheesy Christmas music. You’re wearing half your wine glass in the colour of your cheeks, but Connor thinks the flush becomes you.

You notice when he glances at you, and you smile in that shy, self-conscious way. He returns your smile, adjusting his posture to face you, and you turn away, pretending that you barely noticed, and noticeably trying not to check back. He basks in private amusement.

The party draws on a little long—someone pulls out a bottle of something strong and definitely against regulation, and when Connor leans down to ask you if you’d like another drink, you jump.

You’re never in danger of falling, of course. Inhuman arms encircle you and hold you steady against an equally inhuman body—and for the first time, Connor feels a response that correlates with your change in expression. The slow pull that binds you and builds to something far stronger than he’s felt before until letting you go is unthinkable.

He makes a plausible excuse for you to leave. The charge in the air grows to fevered sharpness, a harmonic buzz that doesn’t break until he has one hand in your hair, the other encircling your waist, and that insatiable need to get closer.

Connor doesn’t leave any of you untouched. When his kisses would deny you air, he leaves them in trails down your neck, then undoes a handful of buttons to continue down your chest, hands restless and hungry, so much warmer than you’d ever imagined, so much more demanding.

When he whispers I don’t want to wait, it’s as if he read your mind. A shiver runs through you when he parts your legs and leans his weight into you, pushing inside with a growl that thrills you.

You tense around him. It’s not intentional, but he grabs your chin and holds you still beneath him, feeling the burning heat of your shaky breath past his thumb. He caresses your lower lip, and when you realise you can’t nod, you whisper please, and reach for him with both hands, in case he doesn’t understand how much you want him.

Connor leans back and pulls out almost all the way. You whine loud, desperate and frustrated, until the hand on your face tightens, cutting off your mumbled demand and making way for the moan he fucks out of you.

His fingers claw your jaw and throat and it’s heaven: the sharpness against your skin, the deep pressure inside you, building with every rock of his hips, chased with a mouth that suffocates and teases you until you’re dizzy.

You feel heavy, waves of sensation breaking over your body with increasing frequency and intensity, and no outlet except your nails in Connor’s back, scratching until he presses in deep again. You tense, on purpose, and half-feel, half-hear the stuttering moan, then the frenzied motion of his body as he pushes himself to the brink and drags you with him, tangled and messy, sharing breaths, but sated at last.

[skyward-floored]

Hello! Tis me, the one that keeps showing up when you say you don't have ideas for DIAU. I love au^3s. I particularly love this one! Mmmmm angst. Hyrule angst is one of my favorites, so hehe on that.

If you're perhaps looking for a prompt—maybe because Hyrule healed Time that once, does he recognize the picture in the house when he finally escapes?

(...hmmm, Hyrule did escape. Are they looking for him? How hard does he have to hide? Could he go to the store with Malon sometime for groceries? Or out to a park? How badly socialized IS he?)

You know... I think he does recognize it. Maybe not literally the moment he arrives, but...

...

Sunlight warming his face was what woke Wind from his deep slumber, his eyes sticky as he dragged them open.

He laid there in his borrowed bed for several minutes, listening to birdsong outside his window as he slowly woke up. His arm felt a little sore when he shifted it for some reason, why...

The events from the night before suddenly flooded back, and Wind shot upwards, head spinning a little from the abrupt movement.

Right.

Last night they’d rescued Hyrule.

Or... Link, still. He didn’t have a nickname here yet.

Wind quickly rubbed his eyes and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Four in the bed beside him. His brother was drooling a little onto his pillow, hair a frizzy halo around his head, and Wind smiled, then fixed his blankets from where they’d fallen loose. Four had gone a little overboard with his powers yesterday, and was obviously still sleeping them off.

A prickle of worry stuck to Wind’s stomach as he remembered that the bad guys knew about Four’s powers now, but he ignored it, and went up from the basement they were sleeping in. All they knew was that there was an unregistered super out there. Four had had a mask on, so they didn’t know who he was.

Yet, a traitorous voice whispered in his head.

Wind shook himself and kept going up the stairs, hoping to find both something for breakfast, and someone to talk to. Nobody but Wind and Four had been seen when they’d helped Hyrule get out, but Malon had admitted their house wasn’t the safest place Hyrule could be. This was only a temporary hiding spot for now, and Wind wanted to know what they were planning.

Wind sighed, and walked into the kitchen just in time to watch Malon stick some bread in the toaster.

“Hey there Wind, good morning,” she said with a smile, though Wind couldn’t help noticing the dark circles under her eyes. “Is Four still sleeping?”

“Yeah, I think he will be for a while,” Wind said, sitting down at the table. “He was really tired after yesterday. Where’s everyone else?”

“Legend and Twi are talking upstairs. I think they’re going to try and contact Sky later today, see if he has any thoughts about everything, but their breaks are going to be over soon,” she explained, pulling some jam out of the fridge. “They’re figuring out timing.”

“And Hyrule?” Wind asked, then caught himself. “Uh, I mean Link?”

Malon’s face did something strange at the name, but then it went back to how it had been. “He’s been awake for a while, I think he’s looking around the house. Actually, would you mind telling him there’s breakfast available?“

Wind nodded, and hopped back out of his seat, snagging a glass of milk before he went into the living room.

He’d been prepared to be searching for a while, but Hyrule was standing only a few feet away in the middle of the room, looking at the pictures on the mantle that had caught Four’s attention when they’d first gotten here too.

Hyrule looked like he was staring at the picture of Time, and Wind quietly moved to his side, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the look on his face. He seemed to be studying the picture awfully intently.

“Um... good morning,” he said, and Hyrule flicked an ear at him in response, leaning even closer towards the picture. “Is... everything okay?” Wind asked again when Hyrule didn’t say anything, the other boy still just staring at the picture, his eyes wide.

“Who is this?” he asked after a long moment.

Wind glanced behind him, making sure Twilight and Legend weren’t about to run into the room or anything, then sighed.

“That’s... Time. He... he was Twilight and Legend’s dad,” Wind explained in a soft voice. “He’s alive in me and Four’s world, but here, he... apparently he was killed a couple of years ago. I don’t remember exactly how long.”

Hyrule’s brow scrunched up, and he looked over at Wind, a weird look in his eyes.

“You’re sure?” he asked, and Wind nodded, a bit weirded out. Why was Hyrule so interested in this?

“I’m sure. It’s been at least three years, I know that. I don’t know how he died though, I just know he... did.”

Hyrule’s face scrunched even further, and he looked back at the picture, reaching out and thumbing a bit of dust off the corner.

“But that’s impossible,” he whispered. “I’ve met him since then.”

Wind almost dropped the cup he was holding.

“What?!”

“I met him once, I... had to heal him,” Hyrule explained quietly. “And time was hard to keep track of in there, but... it’s been less than three years, I know that. I definitely talked to the man in this picture, he was alive.”

Wind stared, stunned into complete silence, and Hyrule looked suddenly awkward.

“Sorry, is... is it a bad subject?” he said hesitantly.

“No, I mean, yes, but— how could he be alive?” Wind breathed.

They’re all so sure of him being dead, how could they be wrong about something like that? They’re still grieving, Malon nearly cried when we told her our Time was still alive, there’s no way any of them think he’s alive here, so how...

How is this possible?

Wind turned to look at Hyrule, and met his green-brown gaze.

“I need to know everything you remember about healing him,” he said seriously, not letting the hope trying to build in his chest get too strong. It could be a coincidence, or maybe one of them had the dates wrong. He couldn’t get too hopeful yet. “If... you don’t mind?”

Hyrule nodded. “I don’t know how helpful any of it will be, but I can tell you what I remember. If... if he’s out there somewhere, I want to help him,” he finished quietly.

“Okay,” Wind agreed, head still spinning with the possible implications of this. Could Dad really be alive here?

Another thought hit him though, and he gave Hyrule a hesitant look.

“...Can you not tell anyone else about this yet?”

“What? Why not? Don’t you want them to know there’s a chance their dad might be alive?” Hyrule asked in confusion.

Wind winced. Well when you put it like that... “I do, trust me, but if... if this ends up being a dead end, I don’t want them to get their hopes up for nothing.”

I don’t want to cause them more grief.

Hyrule let out a soft oh, then nodded, looking away from Wind and back at the picture.

“I guess that makes sense. I’ll do my best to not say anything. But I won’t lie to them,” he said quietly, and Wind looked at the picture as well.

Time faintly smiled back at them both, face eternally frozen in a warm expression.

“He wouldn’t want you to,” Wind replied just as softly. “Thanks, Link.”

Hyrule nodded, and Wind gave him a small smile as footsteps came from the direction of the stairs. Hyrule tilted his head, and Wind nodded at the unspoken question. We’ll talk about it later.

Twilight and Legend came into the living room, somewhat intense looks on their faces, but both of them softened when they saw Wind and Hyrule standing together.

“Hey Wind, Link. You guys sleep okay?” Twilight asked, and they both nodded, Wind taking a sip of his milk.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” Wind said as he lowered his glass, a whiff of toast drifting past his nose. “I’m starved, and your Mom said she had some fresh strawberry jam.”

“Really? Yes, I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get more,” Legend said with a small fist pump.

Hyrule’s stomach growled, and Wind grinned at him, even as he blushed at the noise. Twilight chuckled, and he headed into the kitchen, Hyrule and Wind following.

Wind paused in the doorway when he realized Legend hadn’t followed them though, and he looked back, swallowing as he saw Legend standing at the mantelpiece, looking at the picture of his father.

Legend looked back at him, and quickly smoothed his expression, brushing past Wind to head into the kitchen. But Wind had seen the brief flash of grief that had crossed his face, intense and deep.

And it was then that he promised himself he’d do everything he could to find out what had happened to Time.

[martyrbat]

tim is the type of bisexual that would tell other lgbt people that queer is a slur & steph is the type of bisexual thatd call herself a faggotdyke

[amoneki-ramblings]

Also, your 'Amon stays in the CCG and works with Haise' AU is fantastic and should have been canon. Poor Amon misses Eyepatch terribly (he still has QUESTIONS damnit!) but doesn't want to get Haise (or Akira) in trouble, so he can't really say much, but he and Haise get suspicious of the CCG being corrupted. They investigate together, but they have to be discreet and they HATE IT, the CCG is supposed to represent justice! Inner!Kaneki drops hints and nags Haise in the background constantly.

YESSSSS GOD AMON AND HAISE NOT INTERACTING IN :RE WAS SUCH A MISSED OPPORTUNITY TO ME I WAS SO GENUINELY SURPRISED WHEN THEY NEVER DID

In the context of my AU I think Amon would feel so let down by the emergence of the Quinx project. He's spent all this time investigating the CCG's suspicious sides and almost uncovered what they were really aiming to do and then it just gets. Announced, just like that. That they're putting ghoul organs in people to use as weapons. It feels wrong. Everything clicks terribly into place. But he can't say anything. And Eyepatch is gone already (or so he Thinks) It all feels anti-climatic, somehow.

Then he meets this new investigator, who shakes his hand and greets him cheerily. He's being mentored by Akira. They are to treat him as a human unless he loses control, to which they'll treat him as a ghoul. It's Eyepatch. It's Haise Sasaki. Amon has to stomach the thought of both working with him and potentially having to "erase" him if he remembers who he is. He likes Haise, even if he's different from Eyepatch, but Haise might not be around forever, for one reason or another. He's never had to kill a co-worker or friend before. (I think, similar to Akira in canon :re Amon would be assigned a big role in leading squads when the CCG has to keep Haise under control. It only makes sense, he's done significant damage to him before, in half-kakuja form no less, and managed to escape this guy even without a weapon. And he's also like, one of the Only Guys who has ever killed a ghoul with his bare hands before.) Still though, the thought of killing Haise, whether it be with a quinque through the heart or the snap of a neck, is nauseating.

The CCG higher-ups are suspicious, obviously, because Amon is the only one who truly knows Everything about Eyepatch, and he might screw with Haise's memories. They're keeping an eye on him and make sure they don't get too close, unless Amon needs to confront Haise, since Haise, even when losing control, just can't seem to hurt him. Not really at least (if it ever does happen he feels So Guilty) ((Also sidenote but Haise probably visibly winces when he first meets Amon. His head hurts and he's not sure why. He feels melancholic and he doesn't know why. He feels a flood of relief. But he doesn't know why. He likes Amon a lot and wants to get to know him. The white-haired ghoul in his head seems particularly fixated on him, won't stop looking at him. Haise somehow knew Amon's name before he was even told what it was. He surmises that it's just because Amon is so well-known in general. (He knows, deep down, that it might be more than just that)))

Haise has small recollections of memories, but he can't tell anyone, obviously. Sometimes he has nightmares of flower fields and battles under the rain. When he and Amon get closer he tells him a little about them. "It's probably nothing" he laughs, unsure, but Amon knows what they really mean. He sees Eyepatch in Haise and it hurts terribly. He fears the chance that he'll never get to ask the questions he had, almost as much as he fears the chance that one day he suddenly will. The answers he's wanted for so long are so close that they are literally standing right next to him, yet they're so far.

As things move forward they definitely try to investigate and figure out the CCG's corrupt system together. But they have to be careful, on the outside co-workers (including Akira) make comments about how close they are and what a good team they make but within the inner-workings of the CCG they have their careful eyes on them. Maybe Akira's a little weary about it, tells Amon as such sometime and Amon says he knows (but there are things he can't tell even her.) Maybe one time Haise and Amon talk briefly, maybe after or during Haise losing control of himself and he says something and it sounds hauntingly like Eyepatch. Haise had looked at him differently during that moment. His voice sounded different. It was pained, but not in the physical sense. Maybe it wasn't Haise at all, actually.

Haise has a dream once about a man shouting asking him if he really is just a ghoul. Somehow he doesn't feel like it's for him. (But surely it means something to Kaneki Ken). Maybe, like in that comic I drew, Kaneki is incredibly relieved that Amon is alive, but also terribly jealous that all he can do is watch from the shadows LOL

Ough sorry I got SO carried away I've just been meaning to list out some of the details of my AU thoughts for AGES this has been living rent free in my mind for MONTHS it's one of my favorite thoughts Ever

It's insane, how many parallels are setup between Kaneki/Haise and Amon, yet Haise and Amon never meet once, even though Amon is foreshadowed constantly during :re. To be fair there is so much going on in :re already but still, man. Man,

[minusboy]

do you have any fic recs?

yes i do! here's a few recent-ish reads i really enjoyed. i've sorted them by length for you, but they're not otherwise organised or limited. (a lot of these are also rated mature or above so use your own discretion.)

this ended up being a lot longer than i originally intended so i'm putting them under the cut. this post also serves as my (un)official appreciation letter to everyone on this list. big fan ^_^ <3

>20k words all brutal mirrors cracked by intimatopia - started almost whimsical, then devastated me, then gently kissed me on the forehead 

close your eyes (soon we’ll me home) by @eratosword - made me cry several happy tears. god bless.

castles out of couches by halfbloom - an old favourite i keep going back to what can i say.

like bullets on skin by @littencloud9 - hands. soooo tender aughh..

ode to the dying stars by urranus - very soft and bittersweet, inspired by the orange by wendy cope. again: obsessed. 

brick by brick, rebuild us by @zukkaoru - probably the first fic i read from grace and i still go back to it. what can i say i'm a sucker for a post corruption fic. captured the dynamic very well.

-

20k+ words

silver soul by @nacaharachuya - absolutely gorgeous worldbuilding, had me mesmerized from the start and kept it up until the very end 

music for our funeral by @itowhotypes - read this a while back but this was phenomenal and the level of detail was absolutely incredible 

when i awake by @wildflowerteas - destroyed me, put me back together again, destroyed me. then rinse and repeat several times.

emergency number by @valleykey - found this maybe two weeks ago? was intrigued, started reading and did not put it down once before i was finished. obsessed. 

and a couple of series for fun: - the symbitoic series by @bnesszai - i love everything ness writes but i read this series way before we were friends and still i'm obsessed with it so it deserves a mention - lost remnants series by kanekei - gorgeous and devastating, but mind the warnings bonus: normally i wouldn’t recommend a wip however navarasam has an entire chapter dedicated to (very successfully) hitting me where it hurts so how could i not. thank u vi @starrynightarchive.

[morethanwonderful]

[hand up] I'd like to know what Tai Su is! I've almost read all of MXTX's books and I see withdrawal looming on the horizon so I'd love to be sold on a new rec. What's the premise? Does it have an official translation?

Oh boy do I have an answer for you

The short version of this answer is that Tai Sui is a no-romance steampunk xianxia cultivation novel about a very silly rich boy who cons and fumbles his way into discovering all the ways that immortality is kinda fucked up, actually. It's hilarious and heartbreaking and has some of the wildest, most in-depth worldbuilding I've ever seen, as well as some of the most insanely deep and compelling platonic relationships. There's no official translation, but there's an extremely good fan translation by E. Danglars.

If you'd like to know more about the story and/or why I think it's so damn good, you can click that link up above and read my much longer rec post.

Tai Sui's pretty different from MXTX's stuff in some ways, especially since it's not a danmei, but it was also basically my own first foray into the word of non-MXTX web novels, so I know from experience that transition can work out well :).

[reapersmarch]

this one is dedicated to that one anon

pardon the clusterfuck that's going on here

[johaerys-writes]

Re: revisiting the Thetis month(s?)- oooooh I cannot blame you. Heavy times. So fun stuff! What about the boys building that ill fated boaty boat when they were kids? What other projects did they get up to? ((Ps I’ve read Dawn, Revisited so many times now. So lovely and heartbreaking))

Ill fated (and ill advised) boaty boat adventure ye ask; that ye shall receive. Now up on AO3! :D

[caliblorn]

Is heckling you the way to get you to post more old man yaoi?? In that case uh...u smell and u got cooties!!

(Jk of course, I'm a huge fan of your art <3 didn't realise how much i needed to see manni sitting in vanus' lap till now and also that glimpse of tongue?? The choking???? asldkdks I need to go lie down now)

so about the lap sitting......

(sorry vanus they left the Lamp Knights in The Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion)

[skeletalheartattack]

Devil bottles takes control of your dog for revenge clawing and biting its horrible

not my fuckin dog man leave him out of this

[cactusnymph]

For the prompts: Touching and 35. "kissing their bruises and scars" with Aylin and Isobel (and Shadowheart if you feel like it! all moon wlw welcome) pretty please! This is fun and your writing is beautiful ^^

Isobel still can't believe that she not only got her life back but also her Aylin. Twice blessed by Selûne is what she would normally say, but the gods work their magic in strange ways and when she thinks too much about it—about how Myrkul was the one to give her a second chance at life and how a Chosen of Shar is the one who freed her Aylin—her head starts spinning.

Instead she focuses on the here and now as best as she can, grounding herself in the feeling of Aylin's warm body next to her. Her fingers gently follow the golden cracks along her love's skin—a testament to her strength and resolution.

Aylin sighs as Isobel follows the lines down her chest, over her belly and across her hips and thighs before pressing her lips against a dark bruise on Aylin's shoulder, darting her tongue out to taste it.

Aylin's breath hitches and Isobel smiles.

"Again?", she teases lovingly and Aylin turns her head to look at Isobel.

"I've been imprisoned for centuries without a gentle touch or the sight of my beautiful Isobel. You will forgive me if I have much to catch up on", she says and Isobel hums before continuing her journey down Aylin's body, her fingers traveling ahead of her lips as she finds every scar and every bruise.

"I have a question", Isobsel mumbles into Aylin's skin before licking one of her love's scars, right over her hipbone. She knows that this one was made by a drider. The one on her left thigh, just above the knee, by a dark justiciar. Isobel knows the stories behind all of Aylin's scars.

"If you wish to have a coherent discussion, maybe you should stop touching me for a moment", Aylin whispers, her breath coming quicker already as she squirms under Isobel's gentle administrations. Isobel chuckles.

"No", she says and revels in Aylin's laughter—breathy and happy.

"Well then. Ask and I will do my best to answer despite the dire circumstances", she says with half a smirk and Isobel laughs, gently nudging Aylin's thighs apart to settle between them.

"You've spend some time with our Sharran friend", Isobel says and gently bites the inside of Aylin's thigh. Aylin gasps and arches her back, her fingers digging into the blanket below her.

"That is not a question", Aylin teases.

"How do you feel about her?", Isobel wants to know and dips her head back down to nibble on Aylin's hipbones while her hands draw along the contours of Aylin's ribs.

Aylin seems to be too distracted to answer, chasing the feeling of Isobel's touch, pushing her hips up and spreading her legs a little further. Isobel isn't made of stone and Aylin is beautiful like this, but she also wants to know.

Her mind has been wandering every time she watches Aylin and Shadowheart sitting by the fire or in front of Shadowheart's tent. Ever the insightful one Aylin can see attraction when she sees it and Shadowheart is drawn to Aylin. Isobel understands.

Aylin is beautiful, courageous, fierce and endearingly blunt. Isobel knows what it's like to get caught up in her bright aura. But she also notices Shadowheart looking at her. They didn't meet on the best of terms but Isobel has come to respect Shadowheart. Has maybe even started to like her. And Shadowheart is trying not to enjoy their presence.

Isobel can tell.

"I might be—", a gasp as Isobel's head dips lower. "Intrigued."

"Intrigued?", Isobel asks with a smirk and bites at Aylin's hipbone again.

"There's much to discover", Aylin admits and Isobel has to agree. Thinking about Shadowheart while she has Aylin like this, naked and spread out on a soft blanket, breathing heavily just from Isobel kissing her scars... it makes her skin tingle with excitement.

"Do you want to invite her? Next time?", Isobel asks and Aylin sucks in a breath, looking up at Isobel through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Would you want that, my love?", she wants to know, her gaze piercing.

Isobel smiles.

"Yes. Yes, I think I would."

feel free to send me more of these <3

[julnites]

garden gnome miku sounds really cute ngl

where's her gnome movie? sherlock holmes got one, so why not miku huh? hollywood stop dodging my questions

+ bonus Wirt over the garden wall Miku

[marimayscarlett]

Imma drop in to thirst over Richard's belly, like that thing looks so SOFT and KISSABLE. I don't know if I wanna rest my head on it and nap or cover it in hickeys all the way down to his [CENSORED] but I absolutely wish he'd start an OnlyFans so we can see him 💦 on it, y'know? 😇

You've 👏 come 👏 to 👏 the 👏 right 👏 address 👏 On this blog it's always belly-thirsting hour 🕖❗

Currently thinking about turning my blog in a shrine for Richard's divine belly... maybe with some minor deities like wet!Richard and mohawk!Richard on the side...🙇

And I mean, how can you not worship him when he looks this good and chunky and cuddly and meaty (casually accumulating some of my favourite chunky Richard-Posts here):

I said it once (meaning: numerous times, always, people probably wish I'd shut up someday) and I will say it again: Richard was, in my eyes, always a very attractive man and really hot, like during the Mutter era, during the MiG era, always ... but this now? This is criminal. Rude, even. His body type now is so much my type it hurts and I can't process this sometimes how he just...grew more and more into being my type which he already was

So yes, I don't know if my point here came across thoroughly 👀, but I would love to spend time with his belly - worshipping in any way, shape or form (I shan't say no more).

(me every time I see his belly on my dash)

While I don't really know how OnlyFans works, it is safe to say I would be one of his most loyal followers, paying him a generous monthly allowance to see the newest updates on the beloved belly™ 🙏