#yes I am aware fanfics can be like that

[medicsbigburlychest]

just wanted to say I saw a dbh fanfic with the tag, "c*pr*phagia" last night and had to take a lap around my house

[calicos-clones]

I don’t think people realize how freaked out fanfic readers get when their favorite author(s) doesn’t update their ongoing schedule ON TIME.

And it’s not cause we want the chapter…it’s cause we’re so fucking worried about the Author.

Like— OMG ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’VE BEEN GIVING US THE TRAGIC UPDATES OF YOUR LIFE IN THE NOTES THE PAST 10 CHAPTERS?! WHY STOP? ARE YOU DEAD? DID YOU GET STUCK IN THE WALL LIKE YOUR CAT?? HAVE YOU EATEN?? HAS YOUR BRAIN EXPLODED??

Readers no longer care about the story when they don’t get their usual update. We panic and flag S.O.S as we track down our wayward author who has been both blessed by the universe with a creative mind and cursed all the same with the worst luck.

So any authors who are reading this please understand— when we comment “hey are you okay?” in your comments. No, we are not asking about the chapter.

We are legitimately concerned for your wellbeing. Do not force yourself to shit out a chapter just to appease other ppl when you yourself are not in the mental state to enjoy it or even write it to begin with.

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DAMMIT

[insertsickusername13]

Promises Made on October 30th

title is the concept and summary bc i thought of the title before the concept of the fic. whoops.

warnings: implied abuse, alcohol is referenced and consumed but not in like a bad way (most of the time), no smut but there's one scene where they kiss and i describe it in a gross way for some reason and sex is talked about once or twice

word count: 3.6k

 Jake spent most nights alone. He had friends, sure, and plans most evenings. Dates with girls, parties to attend, and though he’d like to spend the rest of his life swimming in a fuzzy unconsciousness where he was only just aware of his existence, half passed out on someone else’s couch, dawn always sunk her rosy fingers into the horizon and one hostess or another was forced to give Jake a pitying look as they showed him to the door.

 My parents will be home soon, some would say, and Jake would leave with a bitter laugh. If he was lucky, he’d get to stay and help clean up. On the best days, he could sometimes sneak in a quick fuck with whatever girl was still around. 

 Most nights, though, he left before anyone had the chance to kick him out. He spent hours sitting on the floor of his living room, staring at the front door and waiting for them to come home. If he pretended hard enough, the pictures on the walls weren’t the most terrifying thing he had ever faced. Photographs from family weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and award ceremonies all taunted him. His parents’ faces stared at him, scrutinizing every move as he trembled, cried, and broke down. Every sob echoed back like a bullet ricocheted off metal. He was sitting expressionless in the middle of a war zone watching soldiers (read: dreams) and civilians (read: his future) bleed out and die on the floor around him. 

 Despite holding onto the childish hope that things would get better, that the future held something more than loneliness for Jake Dillinger, there was still the undeniable truth that it wouldn’t. Jake was doomed. Life wasn’t going to be anything special for him—he was going to suffer and he was going to have to get used to it young. He hated his parents, himself, his girlfriend, his life, and his house. He wasn’t going to kill himself, he wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t going to wake up every morning and fight to be okay. He was resigned to his sadness.

 Until Rich Goranski knocked on his door at 10 pm on September 17th and showed Jake that silence wasn’t the only thing that could exist in his house. 

 He didn’t wait for an invitation inside. The second Jake had opened the door, Rich pushed past him and into the kitchen. He wasn’t quite fast enough for Jake to miss the bruises on his cheekbones or the way he favored his right leg over his left. Jake cataloged the injuries and promised himself he’d ask about them later. 

 “The hell are you doing here?” Jake called after him, his tone tipping over the border between annoyed and concerned.

 Rich shrugged and settled on the kitchen counter. He seemed to only be slightly aware of Jake’s presence, more focused on the empty floor in front of him. His eyes were glassy in a way that suggested he’d already been crying and was done with it. Jake studied him, searching for his next move in Rich’s body language. If Rich looked like he was going to cry again, Jake could probably swoop in for a hug without being called gay. If he didn’t, Jake would probably offer a drink. Or a movie?

 “Stop looking at me like that,” Rich snapped. He was looking up at Jake, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed together, almost like he was challenging him. Jake flinched back, unsure of what he’d done to deserve such treatment. 

 “Like what?”

 “Like I’m a fucking math problem or some shit. I’m not. Just fucking talk to me.”

 Jake considered him. Though it was invisible to Rich, Jake could still see bullets and spears flying through the air as people screamed out war cries and fought with everything in them for land or oil or their families. Metaphorical war didn’t end just because a friend had shown up. Jake was always surrounded by imagined violence; always on the verge of fleeing. 

 “I don’t know what you want from me,” Jake answered. His voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of a bomb going off in the distance.

 Rich forced out a bitter laugh and hid his face behind his hands. 

 “God, fuck, me either. I don’t know why I’m here. Just fucking distract me. Do whatever the hell you want.”

 Jake found his parents’ record player in the living room and hit play. It was the only thing he could think to do—why, he wasn’t sure. But Rich had said anything, so Jake did anything. Some song by The Police (god, the irony) drifted through the room, a byproduct of his parents’ last anniversary together in the house. Jake had long since stopped caring—it didn’t even hurt to know they’d danced in this room, laughed in this room, raised him in this room. 

 He turned back to Rich and was met with a small, borderline amused, “What the hell, Jake?”

 “You said I could do whatever I wanted.”

 “This is what you want?”

 “I dunno.”

 Rich laughed as he hopped off the counter. The sound was so pure Jake watched the blood-soaked carpets go from crimson to pink as the rain washed away the worst of it. A white flag waved in the distance. Rich swayed to the music mindlessly, still favoring his right leg. 

 “Dancing?” Jake asked, the single word enough to get across his message. Rich nodded as he took Jake’s hand in his own and pulled him in close. 

 “Why not? We’ve got nothing better to do.”

 So Jake learned about music and dancing and how small Rich could feel when Jake had his hands on his hips, fingers digging into his skin just to convince himself Rich was real instead of some fantasy made up as a coping mechanism for his parents’ leering memory. Silence wasn’t the worst thing to exist. Jake knew how to make it go away.

 Still, that did nothing to dispel the obvious and ever-painful emptiness. Jake could play record after record as loud as he wanted until he had every song memorized and could sing it from any room in the house, but it was still empty.

He stumbled into the kitchen, drunk and disoriented, his feet dragging across the tile floor. Each step was like wading through the ocean, sea monsters grabbing at his ankles and trying to drag him under. He gripped counters and walls to keep himself afloat just long enough for Rich to knock on his door and saunter in, his presence a song in and of itself. 

 Jake followed his every movement with every sense: his ears, listening to the sound of Rich’s footsteps. Taste: kissing the corner of Rich’s mouth—never his lips, Jake wasn’t gay, but close enough that he could convince himself there was something like love brewing between them. Touch: holding onto Rich’s hand, his clothes, his hair, latching onto the warmth of him to convince himself the air conditioner wasn’t too cold or the empty spaces too vacant. 

 Sight: looking at Rich and only Rich. If he only looked at his hazel eyes and dyed-red hair and, on the days when Jake was weak and scared, his lips, then the shadows in the corners of the room lightened into something manageable and the photos on the walls that functioned as the closest thing Jake had to family faded into… well, photos. Just photos. 

 Rich helped, but he wasn’t enough to make the emptiness go away until October 15th.

 He showed up in the same way he had before. Glassy-eyed, hurt, and willing to do whatever Jake wanted to make everything slightly okay for a little while. 

 Tonight, Jake chose balloons. 

 “You can’t be serious,” Rich groaned. He was on Jake’s couch, a glass of white wine in hand. Something imported from Italy, or maybe France? All Jake knew was that it cost four hundred dollars.

 Jake shrugged. “Isn’t Brooke’s birthday coming up? It could be for her party.”

 “This is literally just a fucked up coping mechanism, don’t pretend it’s anything else.”

 Jake sighed disappointedly and leaned back against the couch. He was on the floor in front of it, a pack of two hundred balloons in his hand. They were all different colors—some neon, some pastel, some black, and others white. He’d bought them on a whim at a Walgreens for twenty bucks with no particular plan. Faced with his barren living room, the only signs of human existence the expensive vases on the end tables and the overstuffed throw pillows, he’d decided he’d blow them up and throw them around just to add a splash of color. 

 Jake looked up at Rich. He was half asleep but tense, his face scrunched up and hands clenched. It’d been bad this time around. It hadn’t just been Rich’s existence that pissed his dad off—he’d done something. Probably something minuscule, like broken a glass or clogged the toilet, but it was enough that what was usually a couple of light bruises and a limp had turned to black and blue blemishes over his right eye and up his chest. His lip was busted and every breath seemed labored and painful. Jake, unsure of what else to do, ran his thumb over Rich’s pulse and whispered, “Please?”

 Rich opened one eye to look down at Jake. Amongst the annoyance and pain, Jake saw a flash of pity. Rich shifted uncomfortably. 

 “Fine, but I have at least two broken ribs so you’re going to have to accept the fact I’m only blowing up one or two of these.”

 “Of course,” Jake rushed out, his hands already fumbling with the packaging of the balloons. “I wouldn’t—if it hurts, you don’t have to. Obviously. Just—”

 Rich thoughtlessly threaded his fingers through Jake’s hair. Jake’s voice gave out. 

 “I don’t understand you,” Rich whispered, not even bothering to look at Jake. “You’re confident all day, and then the second it gets dark you freak out. I’m the same person I am all the time. I know you don’t want to hurt me. Calm down.”

 It was, of course, a trend Jake had noticed as well. At school, he could control his tone and inflections to the point he sometimes wondered if he was accidentally manipulating the people around him into loving him. Then at night, when his defenses were already broken down by hours of facing the empty, stormy seas that were his house, he could barely find it in himself to get out a sentence without stuttering. 

 He blamed it on the one lie Rich had told in his claim: that he was the same person. He wasn’t. There was something different about nighttime Rich that had Jake’s face feeling too hot and the silence turning into the sound of his heart beating circles in his chest. 

 “Sorry,” Jake replied softly, “I dunno why it happens. You make me nervous.”

 Rich raised an eyebrow. Jake shoved a purple balloon in his face and hoped that would be enough for the topic to be dropped. It was still too sensitive, still too in the early stages of development, for Jake to be prepared enough to vocalize the worst of it. Someday, maybe. Probably. Once he didn’t have Christine to distract him or Jeremy’s constant insults to scare him into suppressing every urge that didn’t perfectly line up with the picture everyone else had of him in their minds. 

 Rich took the balloon and started to blow it up. For Jake, the process was effortless. Rich struggled through it tediously, taking small breaths and wincing after almost every one. Jake hated to say that he’d originally interpreted Rich’s complaints as a joke, but his worry hadn’t really spiked until Rich choked out an awkward, muffled cough and pained groan. 

 “Do you need—”

 “No,” Rich breathed, “No, I’m fine. Shut up, Jake.”

 Jake turned back to his neon green balloon without a word. He’d blown up almost twenty by now, enough to coat half the living room in a thin layer of color. He thoughtlessly kicked one with his foot and smiled as he watched it hit a picture of his mother and uselessly bounce off. Smiling, he kicked another one. It hit a picture of himself as a child. 

 He turned to Rich to tell him—about what, he wasn’t sure. Kicking balloons? Hitting pictures of himself and his family? His coping mechanisms were getting more fucked up by the second—and was almost immediately paralyzed by… fuck, by Rich. Just Rich. 

 He was sitting crisscross on the couch, a balloon in his lap. He’d spent the last four and a half minutes blowing it up to just a little bigger than Jake’s head. It was still smaller than it was supposed to be but Jake wasn’t going to complain. It was physically impossible when he could barely get enough oxygen in his lungs to speak. It wasn’t that there was a crushing panic on his chest stopping him from breathing, it was something much brighter. There were so many butterflies in his stomach they were flying into his chest and choking off every inhale. 

 Rich’s lips were wet. That was really what doomed Jake. He’d previously been unaware that every time Rich removed the balloon from his mouth he felt the need to lick his lips, but now that Rich was focused purely on tying the balloon off and was giving Jake ample time to stare, Jake was forced to acknowledge the way his vision tunneled at the sight. The way his whole body seemed to go warm. 

 Jake turned fully to face Rich, the balloon in his hand completely abandoned in lieu of watching Rich stick his tongue out in frustration as he struggled to keep the balloon inflated while tying the knot. When he finally succeeded, he burst into a smile louder than any record Jake had played over the past month.

 Rich looked up, eyes bright, and faltered when he found Jake already staring at him. He cleared his throat as his face flushed red. 

 “Uh, hi,” he squeaked out. Jake wanted to scream. This was one of the differences that left him speechless. Daytime Rich would smirk and call him gay. This Rich just looked flustered. 

 “Hi,” Jake whispered back. 

 “Whatcha doin’?”

 Jake considered his response carefully. One song or another was playing softly in the background, the balloons were filling up the emptiness. Everything was kind of okay. Jake had nothing left to cope with. He just… 

 “I really want to kiss you right now,” he answered. Rich froze. 

 “What?”

 Jake got up just enough so he was kneeling, purple and green and red balloons gathered around his knees and feet and the coffee table his back was pressed up against. He leaned up so he was close enough to run his pointer finger down Rich’s jawline and nudge his nose against Rich’s.

 “You heard me. You can tell me to stop.”

 Rich remained silent. Jake thought he felt ocean waters rising around his waist, drowning his balloons and pictures in stormy salt water. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Rich like his life depended on it, because it did, and felt his heart start beating again for the first time in months when Rich kissed him back just as desperate and soft and messily. 

 Hands tangled in Rich’s hair, mouth open and his tongue practically shoved in Rich’s mouth, licking at teeth like they were nectar or ambrosia, he scrambled onto the couch, limbs slow and unsteady as he climbed over Rich and forced him back against the couch. He tried to get himself closer to his paradise, his respite, his island in the middle of the ocean, but all he got was a wretched screeching sound and the feeling of air-filled plastic against his chest. 

 He pulled away just enough for Rich to let out a small whine as they lost contact with each other.

 “Rich.”

 “Yeah?” Rich asked breathlessly, already trying to lean up and kiss him again. 

 “Get rid of the fucking balloon.”

 Rich’s eyes widened, almost comically so. Jake wanted to cry at the way that sent his heart into overdrive.

 “Yeah, yeah, right, hold on—”

 He threw it across the room. Jake found the balloons kind of useless now. He was so filled with giddiness and hope that he couldn’t even comprehend how anything could ever be empty. 

 Until October 30th. 

 Rich didn’t need to knock on Jake’s door or let himself in. Jake was at Rich’s house, banging on the door repeatedly, each knock echoing and panicked. He didn’t stop until Rich swung the door open, rumpled and half asleep. 

 “What the fuck?” 

 “I need to talk to you.”

 Rich glanced back inside—presumably at his dad—before nodding. 

 “Yeah, okay, lemme get changed and put on my shoes, then we can go.”

 Jake nodded rapidly. His mind was racing beyond what he could understand, landing on panicked responses before he even knew what had triggered his fight or flight. He didn’t stop moving even as Rich disappeared back into his house. His foot tapped against the concrete. His fingers picked at his nails and the fabric of his shirt and his hair. Curses ran through his mind like a broken record, repeated until the sound was imprinted on Jake’s brain. 

 Rich appeared and suddenly everything in Jake’s mind went silent. 

 “So… are we doing this here or…?”

 “My house. Not uh—” Jake glanced back behind Rich. Not near your father was the implied statement. Rich sagged with relief.

 “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

 Jake could feel Rich’s concern in his gaze. He was watching Jake’s every move as if preparing for something, like Jake was going to swerve the car off the road and into a ditch or shoot himself. It made Jake want to laugh. Or scream. Or cry. He was going to die. 

 He didn’t even make it back to his own house. It was only a six-minute drive and he only made it four minutes in before he pulled over on the side of the road and stormed out of the car, his whole body trembling. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed an escape from the cramped driver’s seat of his car. He needed the autumn air to stop him from overheating and the wide expanse of stars to talk him down from an anxiety attack. 

 Rich fumbled after him, too confused to be panicked and too disoriented to be calm. 

 “What the hell?! Slow down—”

 Jake halted and spun on his heel, eyes wide. They were by a pond with benches and a dock and a parking lot only twenty feet away. There were grills along the beach and a football in the grass. Jake almost screamed. Every sign of humanity felt like too much. If he was going to do this, he needed it to be in the middle of the desert or the empty expanse of space with no one but Rich around to hear his confession.

 No. Fuck it. He needed to do this now. 

 “I’m gay.”

 Rich seized up. He was only a foot away from Jake, close enough so when he finally regained control of his muscles, he was able to reach out and take Jake’s hands. 

 “Really?” he whispered, looking up at Jake with eyes that literally shone like gold or diamonds. Jake wanted to drown in it.

 He swallowed his shame, not caring that it burned at his throat, and said, “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. Not all the way. I like girls. But I like kissing you and I like boys and I… I just like you. All of you. All the way. I like you. I’m really sorry.”

 Rich broke out into a grin. 

 “Yeah?” he asked just for confirmation. Jake nodded again. 

 Rich jumped up into Jake’s arms, fully committed to getting as physically close as he could. He wrapped his legs around Jake’s waist and his arms around his neck and fingers in his hair and kissed him hard on the lips. Jake felt like he was at home for the first time in years.

 “Me too,” Rich said between kisses, “Me too. So much. So fucking much.”

 Jake smiled into every kiss, so ecstatic he could barely keep himself standing. He fell back into the grass whispering, “Run away with me. Forever. It’s terrible here. It’s so terrible.”

 Rich nodded in agreement and pressed a gentle kiss on Jake’s neck. 

 “They hate us and we’re gonna find someplace better. I have enough money. Just run away with me, please. We can go anywhere you want.”

 “Anywhere?” Rich asked. He sounded pained, like the word burned as it came out. Jake nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. 

 “Anywhere. Just promise me you won’t leave.”

 Rich smiled and kissed him again. 

 “I promise,” he murmured, “I promise you’re beautiful, I promise I’ll run away with you, I promise I won’t leave, I—”

 He paused. Dread burrowed itself like a bullet in Jake’s chest. He searched Rich’s expression for answers before Rich had the chance to start speaking again. 

 “Not… not tonight, though, okay? There’s something I gotta do first.”

 “Is it—?”

 “Don’t worry about it, Jake. It’s nothing. How about Sunday? Give me tomorrow to take care of things, then we’re gone.”

 November first. The day after tomorrow. 

 Jake could handle it. He’d host his Halloween party, break up with Christine, and tie up any loose ends he had left. He’d be gone before he ever had to clean up the hell of a mess his friends were sure to leave behind in his parents' house.

 “Promise?” he whispered.

 Rich nodded. 

 “Promise. I just need tomorrow.”

[brotherbandchronicles]

would it be super rude to request a moodboard based on a fic? 'cause when I was writing axes and swords I had a ton of image vibes in my head and I kind of want to know if they came out in the text

(feel free to ignore this)

axes and swords by peredhelrond

“Hey,” says the figure. “Jes, hey. Settle.” Thorn crouches in front of him, putting their eyes on a level. “Jes,” he says again. “What’s wrong?” Unbidden, Jesper’s gaze flicks to the hickory baton still at Thorn’s belt. Thorn pulls it out and, not taking his eyes off Jesper’s face, tosses it across the clearing. “It’s okay,” he says. The shield hits the dirt.

[vourequat]

First was to love you, second was to fuck the shit out of you.

WARNING: Fem!reader, toxic relationship, short NSFW longer angst/fluff, implied murder, blood, cunnilingus, knife play

3rd part of my birthday special, I know I didn't post yesterday so I'll be posting two fanfics tomorrow if I can. I'm not feeling good, chat 😞

You couldn't say that your relationship with the Knave was as smooth as her operations that go under the nose of the Oratrice, it never was and might never will be.

At first, she was just nonchalant but very loving and sweet to you until one time she saw you conversing with someone else and that seemed to tick her off and made her switch from the Peruere that you loved to the Arlecchino that you feared.

What were you to expect from the child of a Fatui that killed her own mother?

"I'm a very jealous woman, you know that." She said as she stood up from her desk.

You scoffed, "And me talking to someone else ticked you off?" You snapped back.

She stopped from her tracks, the wind going still as she slowly turned around to see you. Her eyes meeting yours as she telepathically told you to stop pushing her.

"Yes—"

"You murdered someone, Peruere!" You reasoned out, trying to pull out her logical side.

"I am aware."

You sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration on trying to make this woman rethink her decisions and actions. Ever since she decided to make the two of you official, she always resorted to violence when it came to your safety but she was going out of line this time.

She then approached you, "I'm sorry, Mon cher... let me make it up to you" Her blackened hands made their way to your waist and to the ties of your dress, tugging on them slightly.

You tried to push her away but she was much stronger than you were, she lifted you up so suddenly and placed you down on her desk before tearing off your corset.

"Let me show you how sorry I am..."

You couldn't count how much you've come on her tongue, it was pure bliss as she kept working on your pussy like it was her very last meal. Though you could remember how she made you try to shoo away the children as they knocked and asked for their father while she was attacking your clit with passion.

You kept pushing her head away from you but she would not budge a single inch, it seems that this has agitated her as she stopped eating you alive and looked up at you with those X mark pupils of her before she stood up to look down at you.

A lump of saliva gathered at your throat as you watched her lips and chin glisten from your juices and the way that she wiped it off, slowly she leaned in closer to you, at first you thought that it was to hug you but then you felt a sharp and cold object run from the the nape of your neck towards the section where your back and ass meets.

"This time... I'll mark you to show everyone who you belong to... this time I won't hold back."

And just like that, you were turned onto your back with her hand pushing down on you. You felt her kiss along your spine before you felt the dagger that she held in her hands and carved her name all over your back, leaning down to lick up the blood that trickled off the shallow wounds.

You shivered as you felt her breath hit the open wounds she had put on you, this was pure torture but the pain seemed to fade into nothing but pleasure as you felt her rub at your clit once more before plunging the blunt handle of the dagger into you and kept thrusting it in until you were shaking.

Pulling out the dagger, she cupped your face with one hand to make sure you were watching as she sucked off your juices from the dagger's handle.

"When I was a child I never believed in the archons that plagued these lands... but by mercy, I gave them my devotion when they handed me to you."

You were now in the bathtub with her, the warm water engulfing the two of you as she laid your back on hers.

The wounds had long healed from being too shallow and not enough to cause you any further pain, however, Arlecchino seemed to get more relaxed as she kissed and licked at your neck whilst she massaged your thighs.

Her kisses trailed up and then she breathed into your ear before she spoke, "My whole existence is flawed and wretched... but you my dear... you make me get closer to the archons, you make me want to repent for all my sins just to be enough for you..."

You began to chuckle, laying your head onto her shoulders as you held onto her hands.

"You should really stop having sex with me just to take my mind off what you've done..." You spoke up, now stern and strict.

"Don't worry, his disappearance won't be linked to any of us." Before you could even speak up, you could hear the children speak from outside the door once more.

"Father, I had a nightmare..."

You laughed as the woman sighed.

"Your kids need you... daddy."

She gave you a warning glare before lifting herself out of the tub to dry herself off and cover her body with a bath robe, before she left however she did not miss to give you a quick kiss before leaning down back again.

"I'll make sure you'll be screaming that later... we're not done yet, I know I'm still not forgiven."

A/N: Do y'all think Arle likes being called daddy?

Anyways, I've been feeling bad these past few days due to the heat. I don't know if I'm just being dramatic but heat exhaustion is real gang, my head hurts all the time and I am just so irritable and I even got a nose bleed just earlier.

(Real, we kiss passionately when no one is looking)

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

Call Me When You Need Me (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Fluff)

Short Summary: When your best friend Ellie has problem sleeping you come over to help her. Like you always do!

Author´s Note: Another random idea I got that I thought would be waaay shorter. It´s not that long, but it's longER than I planned to. Istg, the universe wants me to write +5k fanfics. Everythime I come up with an idea for a blur (cause they're way quicker to write) I end up adding so much to it you can't even call it that. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy just a super cute little story! (I'm the person who tries to fill the "ellie x reader"-tag with stuff that isn't smut. Like I didn't just post two smuts right after each other a week ago.................)

Also! Ellie lives in the same house as Joel in this. Even though I'm well aware she has her own "hut" in the game

Words: 1473

(Pictures aren´t mine! I found them on Pinterest)

The empty streets felt oddly peaceful as you wandered down the oh, so familiar road. Only the streetlights lighting up your path as your sleepy feet stumbled on the sidewalk. It wasn’t unusual to find you walking down these streets at 3 am. You found yourself in this situation a little too often. Not that you complain! When your best friend needs you, she needs you. The crispy night air forced you to cross your arms in order to keep some warmth. Despite being near fall you decided to skip out on a jacket and just go with your outwashed hoodie. Big mistake. But it’s not that bad. Though you’d lie if you´d say you didn’t miss your warm, cozy bed. Just the thought was enough to put a drowsy smile on your face. You continued to kick rocks you stumbled upon on the sidewalk as you, trying to not hit any of the parked cars beside you, cause you know.......karma. Soon you noticed the familiar fence you helped painting white one summer. By the looks of it, it could use a little touch-up. Getting onto the lawn you quickly made your way to the back. The house was completely pitch black apart from one single window on the right corner.

You walked over to the corner of the porch, making sure to sneak a few glances through the dark windows, just to make sure Joel wasn’t up to grab a glass of water or something. But you’re just met with your own reflection in the surprisingly clean windows. You jumped up on the fence that tastefully decorated the porch to reach the edge of the roof. You took a sturdy grip around the aged wood before pushing yourself up the brick plated surface. This was nothing new to you. It was more of a routine. Getting called over to your friends house at least five times a week you kinda start to come up with a few tricks to make your arrival more smooth. Why are you climbing the house like you're a fucking monkey? you may as. The first time Ellie called me over you both thought Joel would be pissed if he knew. So you came up with the brilliant idea, with your life at risk, to climb up from the back. Yes, Ellie tired to prevent you from doing it, but you're too stubborn. She knows that damn well. And yes, you're pretty sure you've got a six-pack from all the times you've pushed your whole body onto the porch roof. But by the morning neither of you considered Joel's daily visit. So when he came to tell Ellie it's breakfast he was sure surprised to see you laying there, holding her. But he wasn't mad.....not at all. And when it was time for you to leave he made sure to throw out "You can take the door next time!". Despite that you continued to take your not-so-convenient way into Ellie's room. You saw it more as a fun thing, and you like to believe Ellie enjoys to too. Even thought she mumbled a "You're so dumb" before giving you a welcome hug.

You carfully got up from your crunched up position, being careful not to strainght out your back too much or you'll probably fall down and break your neck. At this height you could outline more details in the only lit up room, as if you didn’t know it by memory. You noticed the small crack Ellie always made sure to leave every night incase she got the urge that’s currently the reason you’re here. She didn’t want to have to get up and open it when you got there. Also, she’s been very clear that you can come over whenever you feel like it. Day as night. You used your finger to loop around the thick glass and push it up enough to give you the opportunity to get a better grip. You slid the glass into the slit, just enough to squeeze yourself through. The noice made Ellie quickly turn her head from her position on her bed. Just the look of you made her smile. "You came!" she happily exclaimed. You giggled "Of course! You said you had problem sleeping”.

Your beaten up sneakers barely got to touch the floor before Ellie threw herself at you, slamming you into the nearby wall. She continued to hug you, tighten up her grip. You chuckled, "Hey, hey! You shouldn't try to mush me like ground beef. Who´s gonna keep you company then?". Ellie let go off you and took a step back, giving you the chance to get away from the wall. "I'm sure you can take it" she snarky remarked "Weren't you the one who's got a six-pack" she sarcastically asked while slapping her hand against your clothed stomach. "Ow!" you screaked while backing way from her hand. Ellie just chucked before making her way back to her bed, signaling you to take place beside her. You let the strap of your backpack slide down your arms before leaving it by the end of Ellie's bed, to then quickly kick off your lazy tied shoes before crawling up the comfy bed.

You let out a deep sigh as your back hit the mattress, "I´ve told you to just call me whenever you need me". "I know" Ellie mumbled before looking to the side, "But you deserve to sleep too". "I never sleep as good as I do in your bed" you reassured her as. She smiled a little, but she wasn't convinced. She's tried to fall asleep by herself when she has one of these...nights, but it's impossible! There's been times where she hasn't called you even thought she should have. Just cause she feels bad for forcing you out of bed. She never told you this or you'd kill her. She's lost count of all the times you've told her to just call you when she feels down or can't sleep.

You place your hands behind your head, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers Ellie swore she'd get rid off, but hasn't "had the time to". But you swore she was lying. She's always been such a bad liar. But you think it's adorable, so you don´t mind. "I swear I'm getting us a house someday. That way you wouldn't have to call me whenever you have problem sleeping", Ellie smirked at you. "Yeah?" she asked while shooting herself closer to your laying from. "Yep! Then you could just come over to my room" you frowned a little "Or we might share the same bedroom...". You shrug "Or I mean, we're sleeping in the same bed now, so we could save a lot of money if we just get one". Ellie smiled at the thought but soon her face fell a little "How would that work when you bring a girl over?". You shot your head to give her a confused face "What the fuck, Ellie?" you grabbed a pillow from behind you to hit her playfully "I don´t even bring that many girls over!". "Suuure" Ellie playfully rolled her eyes while wearing that shit-eating grin.

You huffed before pushing her back against the bed so you could straddle her. Ellie had to stop herself from blushing at the sudden contact, but she's pretty sure you'd still notice if you weren't busy continuing hitting her with the pillow. You giggle "You play me out to be some type of slut!". She just shrugged "Maybe you are". You huffed once more, louder this time, before getting off Ellie's lap with a defeated look. "Fuck you, Ellie" you mumbled before throwing the pillow at her. She just laughs as she catches it and put it back to its original place. "Should we get to bed now? You know, the reason I'm here?". "Oh!" Ellie quickly adjusted herself "Yeah, that'd be nice". You grabbed the cover that was messily tossed to the side and placed it over you to. "You want me to read you a bed time story?". Ellie laughed "Fuck you, (y/n)". You smirked as you reached over her to turn off the lamp on her beside table. The feeling of your body being pressed against her made it hard for Ellie to focus, but thank god you soon got back to your previous position behind her.

You wrapped your arms around her frame before pulling her into your embrace. Transferring your warmth onto her. “You don’t have to come here every time, you know?” Ellie clarified. “No, I know” you answered “But I want to” you added before burring your face in the nape of her neck, automatically squeeze her torso a little tighter. Ellie couldn’t help but release a relaxed sigh, finally at peace.

[alnair-jpg]

Olympics AU Info dump!

First, I am blown away by how much love the series is getting, thank you all so much! I do really enjoy all the comments and reactions in the tags. Know that they all delight me and the only reason I don’t reply to everything is because there are so many! But I read them all 💕

General questions:

Can you draw the designs or concepts? Write fanfic in this AU?

Yes of course! I’d love for you to tag me if you post them so I can see

Do they all know each other?

At first, I would say no- with the exception of Nico and Will (they’re developing a whole backstory in my head that I cannot and will not stop.). But they all meet in the Olympic Village after the opening ceremonies and quickly become friends. They all try their best to attend each other’s events. (Someone please tell me how Percabeth becomes a thing. Please. 🙏 )

Why didn’t Percy win gold?

Percy was an Olympic medalist in swimming before moving to diving. After competing in several swimming events and feeling like they were all just small variations of the same thing, he wanted more of a challenge. He chose diving to stay rooted in to the water, but to add a new dimension to his bodily awareness and control.

What’s Annabeth and Luke’s rivalry?

They most definitely trained together, and it was Luke’s skill that motivated Annabeth to aim for the Olympics. But, she wanted to compete for her home country, Greece, which Luke thought was just a shortcut since there was a clearer path to an Olympic team in a smaller country. Annabeth is constantly trying to prove to him that she would have made it to the top of the sport either way.

Also, apologies to the IRL fencers out there for the inconsistency. I know fencing is a gendered sport, and Annabeth’s gear/style are inconsistent, please forgive the oversight ☺️🫶

Volleyball?

The whole Hunters of Artemis are a volleyball team (that apparently has no country 😅). Thalia ends up the captain. When Reyna moves on from tennis they welcome her with open arms.

Rejected sports

Will as a runner. Canonically, he’s super fast, but just having him as a sprinter didn’t fit with his personality.

Will as a pole vaulter. Specifically the guy that lost because he was ‘blessed a little too much’ and knocked down the bar. I will not explain further.

Will as a gymnast. He was this || close to being a gymnast essentially modeled after Steven Nedoroscik, I had the sketch and everything. (I shared it here!) But when an anyonomous ask clued me into the sick medical team uniforms it all fell into place from there. (Thank you no-longer-anon @helyeahmangocheese !)

Percy in anything equestrian related. I see him not having the patience for all the formality of it all, but he definitely crashes Hazel’s shows and chats up all the competition (the horses.)

Annabeth on a sailing team. Also, related to that, Reyna on a sailing team. It was a fun idea, especially for Reyna and her history with pirates but ultimately it was really hard to capture in a few illustrations.

Nico in several winter sports. For consistency mostly. He could fit for a lot of winter sports - ice skating and snowboarding are my personal favorites.

Leo as a shooter. He would most definitely build his own gear and make tweaks to his weapon. Which would get him immediately disqualified.

Jason in discus. Jason as a basketball player. Golf is just… fitting. 😂

Other Characters I’ve been thinking about

(that may have art in the works… and may not actually be athletes!)

Clarisse

Meg

Grover

Rachel

Lester / Apollo

Mr. D

Chiron

[seulszn]

Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

[berlynn-wohl]

okay so I was watching a video about videos and decided to write about writing (specifically, fanfic)

Typically I don't share my thoughts on fandom as a subculture and how it's changed because I don't have the stomach for the kind of things that can happen when one posts their opinions on social media. But I'm gonna give it a go today because I watched this:

You don't have to watch it, I'll tell you the thing that got me: it was about how on YouTube, people are likely to be fans of specific channels, and if you subscribe to one, you could probably, if asked, discuss what you like about that channel/creator with others. But the way TikTok's feed works (turning you into a passive consumer of an endless stream of short videos), it's more difficult to differentiate who the creators are, even when you subscribe to them. You're more likely to just say, "I'm a fan of TikTok" (...or "I'm addicted to TikTok"). This is evidenced by the fact that at a recent VidCon, TikTokers who had millions of views and hundreds of thousands of subscribers faced empty lines at the meet-and-greets, because their content was just part of a blur of content their subscribers passively put their eyeballs on every day.

And I had a thought: Has AO3 done this for fanfic? Of course AO3's content cannot be passively consumed; you have to enter search terms and use filters to find what you're looking for. But once you have entered such a search, you could well be faced with thousands of results, which you begin consuming by opening tab after tab after tab. If you were not in fandom before 2012, I cannot stress how ludicrous this amount of fanfiction is. Before AO3, unless you were in a MASSIVE fandom (like HP or LOTR), you eagerly awaited the arrival of new fics because there just weren't that many -- and even if you were in a massive fandom, if you shipped one of the less popular pairings (or preferred Gen), you still could not necessarily count on even one new fic a day that was to your tastes.

And in those days when fics were fewer and farther between, and when fandoms were more siloed, you got to know fanfic authors. You recognized their styles. When someone posted a new fic, you were excited because you knew what you could expect based on what you already enjoyed about that author's talents and inclinations. In a small fandom I was in long ago, where only about ten people wrote fic, we once sat around and brainstormed which popular music act's vibe corresponded with which each author's style! (I was The Clash.)

Compare that to now, where many readers in fandom have the opportunity to just click-read-click-read-click-read, not just as a reward at the end of a long day, but on the bus or anywhere. I don't think it's a coincidence that fics get fewer comments than they used to, and there's far less discussion of individual authors. There's no incentive to linger on something even if you enjoyed it, when the next fic is waiting in another tab.

Now perhaps it's better that the structure of fanfic culture has changed such that we have less potential for BNF drama. But it also means that whenever I see newcomers to a fandom asking for recs, most of the responses are "Have you read [the fic with the most kudos and comments on AO3]?" It's not just that this response is a bit superfluous, as the newcomer has probably already sorted the AO3 results by kudos/comments -- to me it also indicates that folks get so much fanfic from The Fanfic Website and so little community from The De Facto Fandom Platforms that it becomes difficult to remember individual fics, what you enjoyed about them, or how an individual author's style might make them a better match for a certain reader. (Yes, I am aware that AO3 has histories/bookmarks for people to refer back to, but when one accumulates 1000 bookmarks and then someone asks for a rec, most likely the bookmark holder is only going to remember, off the top of their head, That One Crazy Outlier Fic That The Entire Fandom Lost Their Shit About Seven Years Ago.)

I dunno, this is all I got in the way of thoughts. I'm not saying I want to go back to the way things were 10 or 20 years ago, but I sure do wish I could a-la-carte it a little, you know?

[everykindofnerd13]

I dunno if I can begin to explain how much of a ship purist I am for Haikyuu. Each character has a ship. That is their one true love and I will take no notes. I will avoid any fic that includes anything other than them, and I will refuse to acknowledge their existence.

Unless I find cute art, that gets a like and the occasional praising comment.

But under almost all other circumstances, no changes made. I will not budge on this.

Actually that’s not true.

KiyokoXTanaka

KiyokoXYachi

TanakaXEnnoshita

Tanaka alone

are all interchangeable and I will take them. However otherwise, I have a very strict little list of ships that I will read fanfic about, otherwise, out of my sight!

Tehe but no really I don’t have a problem with most ships, I just don’t enjoy them as much, especially as a sucker for childhood friends to lovers, there are some ships that tear Iwaoi, Tsukiyama, or Kuroken apart that I simply cannot look beyond. Like yes I know they’re best friends, but they’re actually so much more than that to me and I will hear nothing more.

And I’m AWARE that most of my ships are the most common but I like to believe that it’s because they make a lot of sense. Plus, this way, Everyone’s got someone they have chemistry with, when it gets mixed up some characters end up alone and I simply cannot do that to them.

(Also OsaSuna/OsaSunaKomo are both good. It’s like adding a little egg to your ramen, it doesn’t technically change the dish but it drastically changes the flavor.)

[waffle-gal]

TADC - ADVENTURE AU MASTERPOST & BOUNDARIES

Big thanks to @burrotello for letting me use your digital circus logo 💜

Summary:

When a virus sneaks into Caine's "Amazing Digital Expansion (Beta)" his powers end up disappearing! It's up to him and Pomni to journey outside of the circus into the expansion itself to find his powers, stop the virus and save their world!

In this slow-burn romance adventure, Caine tries to understand what it's like to be human, while Pomni just wants to live at the end of the day.

They both get into more trouble than they bargained for, as danger, peril and love await in The Amazing Digital Adventure!

The Map 🗺️

Info Cards:

Q&A and BOUNDARIES

Can I draw fan art and write fanfics for this AU?

Absolutely go for it!! I would love to see what you make! 💕

Can I make NSFW for this AU?

Yes! I am an adult, but I am also aware I have a following of people who are minors. So, if you do make content, please spoiler it and use the appropriate tags. Maybe I’ll make another blog for that

Can I dub/voice your comics?

Please credit me if you do!

Is the rest of the digital circus cast going to be in this AU?

The story is primarily Caine and Pomni, but I'm not opposed to having the rest of the cast making appearances in the future!

Waffle, isn't this just canon Pomni and Caine?

But hear me out-- Hear me out... What if I told you...

Showtime? 👀

I don’t ship Showtime, is this an AU for me?

Probably not, but I think it’s still good to be open to the pairing if you’re interested! If you’re still not then no biggie, but don’t attack others for what they like please. Thank you.

More will be added in the future. This master post took a lot of time and energy to make, so I might be slow. However, I’m super proud of how this turned out! I'm so excited to make more content.

[lucifersdickriderdotnet]

A Little Surprise

Summary: Through an unfortunate series of events, Lucifer has been transformed into someone much younger, much freakier, and much different. It's Mammon's job to take care of him. 5k words.

Disclaimer: NOT DEMONCEST. JUST BROS BEING BROS.

Notes: hey guys. This is my first ever (posted) Obey Me fanfic. If it's bad. No it's not. Baby Lucifer looks different because I headcannon that he did. If you disagree that's okay but I don't want to hear it. There are a lot of personal headcannons in here that you will have to pry from my cold dead hands. Also, Baby Lucifer is like, a freak. And vaugely autistic. (I'm so nervous about posting this please think it's good.)

“Run that by me one more time.” Mammon has his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the Demon Prince, heir to the Devildom Throne, with nothing less than malice in his eyes.

“It seems that there was a mishap involving him and Solomon.” Diavolo looks shy somehow, cowed. Even Barbatos looks wary. It’s rare for Mammon to get genuinely angry, rare for him to talk in any way that is not casual and lighthearted, and it’s rarer still for Lucifer to be absent.

“Yer aware that there ‘re very few curses that work on my brother?”

“Yes. I am– I am truly sorry, Mammon. I hadn’t realized that there would be this much trouble.”

“He’s only been tellin’ ya for ages how untrustworthy he finds Solomon.” Diavolo flinches back slightly, “But sure. ’S no way you coulda known.” Mammon can see Barbatos about to step in and defend his master, and he holds up a hand to stop it. Unlike his brother, Mammon holds no allegiance to either of them. His loyalty is to his brothers, he only cares for Diavolo because Lucifer does, and currently, there is no Lucifer.

“Just. Tell me where he is.” His arms are still crossed over his chest and they remain that way as he follows the two through the Castle. For once, he doesn’t even consider stealing anything, doesn’t flinch at the ghostly noises that filter through the halls, he just silently follows the two people who are supposed to be powerful enough to protect his brother. The two people who failed.

Unsurprisingly, the room that Diavolo had unofficially converted into a study for Lucifer is a mess. Mammon knows that Lucifer’s study at home isn’t exactly neat, but he also knows that his brother’s pride would never allow him to dirty someone else's home. Especially if that someone else is Diavolo. Still, he hadn’t expected the room to be in its typical pristine condition when he learned what had happened. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected there to be a room at all when he checked his D.D.D. and saw Diavolo’s name flash across the screen instead of Lucifer’s.

Standing in the corner of the room is Lucifer, although this Lucifer is much younger and much smaller and brighter, and standing in the opposite corner is Solomon, cowering and silent in a way that is entirely uncharacteristic. To be fair, Mammon would be cowering too if a fledgling Lucifer was staring at him. From what Mammon remembers hearing, before Michael was created, Lucifer was alone. It was just him and Father for a long time. Michael says Lucifer didn’t stop becoming off putting until Sariel was created, and even then he was weird.

“Who are you?” Lucifer’s voice is booming and loud and fills the whole room. He doesn’t open his mouth to speak and Mammon is hit with the sudden realization that he hasn’t learned he can yet.

“I’ve already told you! I’m a sorcerer! My name is Solomon and–”

“Lies.” Solomon flinches back at Lucifer’s words even though the latter hasn’t moved an inch. “Solomon is not born yet. He is to be a great king full of wisdom. You are not him. He does not exist.” Mammon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Lucifer.” His brother’s head turns slowly towards him.

“Who are you?” There’s the boom again, shaking the walls of the room, knocking trinkets older than Mammon off of the shelves.

“I’m… I’m yer brother, Mammon.” He takes a step towards Lucifer’s corner and watches and Lucifer’s wings fluff up to make himself bigger. He almost forgot how brilliant they were, all six of them, brilliant and white and pearlescent. He forgot a lot of things about his brother’s angelic form, apparently. Like how his eyes are an unsettling shade of blue, and the white-blonde of his hair. He forgot how much Lucifer changed when he fell, God’s favorite, disgraced for all eternity.

“I do not have those. Yet. I will be getting some soon.”

“Yeah, I know. Somethin’s wrong and everythin’s all topsy-turvy. I promise ‘m not lyin’ though.” He takes a step closer.

“My brother, you said?”

“Yup.”

“Hmm.” Lucifer eyes him, sizes him up and down as Mammon finally gets within touching distance. He knows that even in this much younger, much smaller form, he would lose in a fight to his older brother. He thinks Lucifer must know this, too. There is a moment of silence where the two stare at each other, before Lucifer walks closer to him and headbutts his hip.

“Thank you for finding me. I do not like it here.” The top of Lucifer’s head barely reaches Mammon’s waistline and he’s going to hate that everyone knows he used to be shorter than Luke. Mammon snorts, patting his head gently.

“Of course. Yer my brother after all. It’s my duty.” Lucifer nods resolutely and grabs Mammon’s hand. He’s cold, but then again, he is even as a demon, so that’s nothing new.

Lucifer does not acknowledge Diavolo as they leave, he doesn’t comment on the way Barbatos is most certainly a demon, and he doesn’t mention the demonic energy he can feel radiating off of Mammon. He simply steps through the portal Barbatos created and stays quiet.

–

Levi is currently pounding on Mammon’s door. Mammon owes him 500 Grimm for not telling Satan that he was the one who broke a shelf in the library and Levi intends to collect.

“Mammon! I know you're home! Open the door!” There's a lot of weird scuffling on the other side before the door opens a crack and he's met with a singular blue eye.

“What?”

“You owe me.” He watches that eye roll and the door shuts for a second before a hand is shoved through the crack and Grimm is being unceremoniously thrust at him.

“Here. Now go away.” The door shuts again and Levi stares at the colored wood and immediately pulls out his phone.

Everyone Except Mammon

Levi: guys. Mammon just paid me back.

Satan: ?????

Beel: maybe he finally came to his senses

Levi: it's Mammon

Beel: yeah okay

Levi: he also wouldn't let me in his room

Levi: like he didn't even open the door all the way

Levi: he only opened it a crack

Asmo: do you think he's hiding something?

Levi: it's Mammon 

Asmo: yeah okay 

Asmo: so what should we do? break in?

Belphie: we could ask Lucifer?

Levi: he's with Diavolo on business

Belphie: it's Mammon 

Levi: yeah okay

Levi exits the chat and opens his contact for Lucifer. He doesn't usually let it ring more than once when it's his brothers. He hates to be left out of the loop and worries for them even if he hates to admit it. Levi’s call goes to voicemail, so he tries again. And again. Lucifer doesn't pick up at all.

Levi: Lucifer isn't answering his phone

Asmo: what

Levi: I called three times

Satan: I didn't curse his phone this time 

Beel: Belphie?

Belphie: nope

Levi: should we call Diavolo?

Satan: no

Satan: we should ask Mammon

Levi pounds on the door again and is met with more cursing and shuffling on the other side of the door.

“Mammon? What's happening in there?”

“Mind your own business!”

“Your business is my business!”

Levi: he won't let me in

Belphie: then wait until he leaves and sneak in or smth 

Levi grumbles to himself and resolves to wait. Mammon is gonna get hungry eventually, his chance will come.

It takes longer than he wants for Mammon to leave his room, his own door cracked open so he can hear when Mammon’s door opens and shuts. He’s halfway through a boss battle in his latest RPG when it happens and he, regrettably, has to pause. Mammon won't stay out of his room for long, especially if he's hiding something, but it isn't hard for Levi to push open the door and shut it behind him and come face to face with Lucifer.

“Oh, shit.” Levi stands in front of the closed door and stares. Lucifer stares back, except it isn't the Lucifer he knows. He's not tall and imposing, he doesn't have freaky carmine eyes or jet black hair. He doesn't have four wings because he ripped all six off when he Fell and then two sets came back. No, instead his brother is short, shorter than Luke, and still imposing. His brother has bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair and six wings and he's younger than Levi has ever known him. Obviously, he snaps a picture.

“And who might you be?” His brother's jaw moved up and down like a puppet but his voice sounds like it's coming from inside of Levi’s mind. He forgot Lucifer could do that.

“Uh. I'm Levi. Leviathan. We're brothers.” Lucifer's expression doesn't change past its neutral state, but his wings flutter happily.

“I have many brothers? I must be very blessed.”

“You could, uh, you could say that, yeah.” He takes a step forward before deciding to sit on the couch. The door opens the second he does.

“Hey, tyke. I got some food–” Mammon stands, arms laden with snacks that are most definitely Beel’s as the door swings shut behind him.

“Hello, Mammon!” Lucifer's wings flutter again.

“Hey. Levi, what a surprise! Why are you in my room?” He walks over and dumps the snacks in front of Lucifer and he trills happily before ripping something open and chowing down.

“You were hiding something. So, I had to check.”

“What if I was hidin’ a girl in here or somethin’?”

“Except you aren't ‘hiding a girl in here or something.’ You're hiding Lucifer.” Levi gestures wildly towards him and then stands. “What did you do?”

“I didn't do anythin’. Diavolo called and when I got there he was like this.”

“He's a baby!”

“I'm aware!”

“I am not a baby.” They both jump at the volume of Lucifer's voice. “I am already thousands of years old.”

“You look like a baby,” Levi says

“I am older than your feeble mind could ever understand.” Lucifer crosses his arms across his chest. He sounds defensive, like he's had this argument with someone before. It's the most emotion he's displayed all day.

“Yeah, sure.” It's fun to tease Lucifer, and even better when they can get away with it. Levi opens his mouth to say something else when Mammon gives a loud sigh.

“This ‘s why I didn't tell any of ya. Yer all gonna use it to be mean to ‘im.”

“He deserves it.”

“He's literally an infant.”

“No I am not.”

“O’course you aren't,” Mammon soothes, “Yer very big and very strong.” Lucifer preens. And Mammon gives another sigh.

“Levi, get outta my room.”

“I just got here!” 

“Don't care. Get out.” Mammon starts pushing him towards the door, shoving him forward despite the fact that Levi is dragging his heels along the floor. He forgets how strong Mammon is sometimes.

“C’mon! Just let me stay in here! I didn't do anything–” The door shuts loudly in his face. He pulls out his D.D.D.

Levi: I figured out what Mammon was hiding

Asmo: and what might that be?

Levi: image sent

Asmo: holy shit

–

In an impressive show of restraint, none of the brothers come knocking on Mammon's door. He expects it, because Levi is a blabbermouth and his brothers are nosy, yet it doesn't happen. Instead, he gets to spend the next hour trying to get Lucifer to talk normally instead of that weird way he used to communicate with Father. He is mostly unsuccessful.

“We'll work on it.” Lucifer frowns at him, a perfectionist even as a child.

“I would like to leave this room.” He says, and it sounds a little more normal.

“What if, and hear me out, we didn't do that?”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“I do not like that answer.” Mammon groans and flops backwards on his couch. Damn Solomon and damn Diavolo for getting him into this mess. And while he's at it, damn Lucifer for being such a weirdo.

“Mammon, please?” Lucifer leans over him until his blue eyes are boring right into Mammon's. He doesn't think Lucifer blinks for a straight minute.

“Yer gonna go out regardless of if I say it's cool or not, aren't ya?”

“Indeed.”

“Fine,” he sits up and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms, “I'll take you to the music room.”

“Music? That sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah, yer a big fan. Well, you are normally.”

“Let us go.” Lucifer’s wings flutter again and Mammon wonders when his brother learned to add inflection into his voice, when he learned to use his facial expressions. He wonders if it ever gets tiring for him to use them now, if he's ever exhausted by the effort it takes to be himself.

Mammon trods down the hallway and Lucifer floats behind him.

“It is dark here.”

“Yeah, we hadta move.”

“I see.”

They enter the music room without much fanfare except Satan is there playing the piano. Lucifer sways happily to the music and floats over to Satan.

“Hello. This is beautiful. What are you playing?” Mammon stifles a laugh at the way Satan nearly jumps out of his skin. Lucifer isn't speaking directly into minds anymore, but it does sound like a disembodied voice is speaking just a little too loudly right next to your ears.

“You've never heard of a piano before?” Satan's voice is full of snark.

“No.” Satan and Lucifer stare at each other for a minute before Satan grumbles and goes back to playing. Mammon goes and sits on Satan's other side.

“You guys never said he was so bright.”

“He is the Morningstar. You thought he just got that name for fun?” Satan shrugs in response, fingers still dancing along the keys.

“We look so similar like this.” 

“I don't think so.”

“Don't be condescending.”

“You look more like Lilith than anyone else.” Satan stops abruptly and Lucifer lets out a sad trill.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Mammon bats Satan's hands away and takes over, playing an old lullaby that Lucifer taught him once.

“Oh!” Six wings ruffle, “I know this one!”

“I don't,” Satan says.

“He used ta play it for me when I was younger. When I couldn't sleep. I don't think anyone ‘cept the two of us know it, to be fair.”

“He's never played it here.”

“He doesn't play the piano anymore.”

The song finishes and Lucifer puts his hands on the keys.

“I would like to try.”

“Knock yerself out, bud.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you can go ahead and try.” Satan says and he moves so that Lucifer is in the center of the bench instead of him.

It's almost uncanny the way he plays. Repeating the song Mammon just finished with no error. It's just like him, to be perfect at something on the first try.

“Was that good?” He asks, blue eyes looking at the two of them imploringly.

“‘Course it was.” Mammon says.

“It's you,” Satan crosses his arms over his chest, “it wasn't anything less than perfect.”

“I am sure there is room for improvement.” Lucifer preens despite his attempt at humility. Mammon and Satan share a look over the top of his head.

–

Lucifer wants to go outside next. He all but begs until Mammon relents, and then basically drags him out the front door.

“There is a garden.” He’s mesmerized by the flowers.

“Yeah, ‘s yours. Most everything here is yours, actually.” Outside of their rooms there isn’t really anything the brothers own for themselves. Nothing they put effort into maintaining. Nowhere they spend their time. The library is shared by both Satan and Lucifer, and even though Belphie spends his time in the Planetarium, Lucifer is the one who does the upkeep.

“What are these?” Lucifer’s hands are gentle as he strokes along a petal of a rose.

“They’re roses. You grew ‘em yourself. Created a new breed ‘n everythin’.”

“That is wonderful.” He turns to look at Mammon. “Do you like them?” He stills for a moment. He doesn’t think Lucifer’s asked for anyone’s approval ever. He just does what he likes, what he thinks is best, and deals with whatever consequences happen by asserting his intellectual superiority.

“Yeah. Of course. They’re beautiful.”

They continue their walk through the garden, Lucifer “oo”-ing and “ah”-ing at the different Devildom flora. They come across one of Satan’s stray cats that Lucifer pretends not to know about and he laughs, bright and tinkling. It sounds like wind chimes. Mammon watches his face split open into a smile so bright it hurts to look at before fading into something softer but no less radiant. He doesn’t think he’s seen him this full of joy or wonder ever. He wonders when the last time Lucifer was unburdened.

They come to the center of the garden, where a bubbling fountain sits and find Belphie lying in the grass, staring at the stars.

“Hello.” Lucifer’s voice is less loud now that he’s had more practice, but it still fills the space like he’s talking at you from every direction at once. Belphie tilts his head in Lucifer’s direction.

“Hey.”

“Who are you?” Lucifer leans over him, blocking his view.

“Belphegor.” He pokes the side of Lucifer’s knee and chuckles when Lucifer twitches.

“Are you one of my brothers?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I have so many! It is nice to know I am no longer lonely.” Lucifer pauses for a second. “Not that Father is bad company.”

Belphie hums and puts his hand on the top of Lucifer’s head, pushing him out of the way of the sky. Lucifer squawks and Mammon is definitely going to mock him for it when he goes back to normal.

“That was rude.”

“You were in the way.” Lucifer huffs slightly and tilts his head up to stare at the sky, leaning so far back he almost falls over. Belphie laughs at him. “Lay down, dummy.”

“I am not dumb,” he lays down, wings curling over him like a blanket. “I am incredibly intelligent. Although, there is still much I have to learn.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Belphie’s dry tone makes Lucifer huff again, grumbling softly in irritation. Mammon sits down on one of the benches behind them and looks up too.

“There are many more stars than the last time I looked,” Lucifer says.

“I’d imagine they haven’t formed yet.” Lucifer hums and continues to gape at the full sky. “You see that one?” Belphie grabs Lucifer’s hand and uses it to point at a constellation. Mammon knows which one he’s looking for before he’s done guiding Lucifer’s arm.

“Yes.”

“You and I made that one together.”

“Wow.” Lucifer’s voice is soft, quieting so that it sounds like it’s coming from him instead of from everywhere. He turns his head to look into Belphie’s eyes. “It is radiant. You did a good job.” Belphie sputters at the praise.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You should be proud of your achievements, Belphegor.” He redirects his gaze back at the sky, finally tucking his arm back between his body and his wings. “Creation is a beautiful thing.”

–

The thing about Lucifer’s stare is that it’s always been incredibly unsettling. As an angel or a demon, if he looks at you for long enough, you’re going to spill your secrets. Mammon has only ever known Barbatos and Michael to be immune to the effects. It’s somehow worse now that he’s small. Maybe because there’s no reasoning behind it. He’s not staring to get information out of you, or to get you to behave, he is simply observing. He’s doing it now, watching as Asmo gets ready to leave the house.

“What is that?” He’s standing directly over Asmo’s shoulder, alternating between staring at the side of his face, peering at him through the mirror, and oggling over all the cosmetics Asmo has on his vanity. Mammon is playing on his phone, lounging on Asmo’s bed because Asmo got tired of using him as a test subject half an hour ago.

“It’s blush.” Asmo dips a fluffy brush into it and places it on the highs of his cheekbones.

“What does it do?”

“It makes it look like I have color on my face.” Asmo puts a hand over the half of his face with blush and points in the mirror. “See how my face kind of looks colorless here?” He moves his hand, “Now, I look all rosy.”

“Wow. That is amazing.” Lucifer leans forward more, like getting closer to the mirror will help him see better. “Can I have some?” The question makes Mammon almost drop his phone on his face and makes Asmo still. He meets Lucifer’s sharp blue eyes with his own.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I would like to be colorful, too.” Asmo snorts unattractively and mumbles something Mammon doesn’t hear. He rummages around his desk until he finds a different color blush, something more suitable for Lucifer’s pale complexion.

“Here.” He swipes the brush across Lucifer’s cheeks and nose and Lucifer giggles. Wind chimes tinkling through the air again. Asmo smiles and brushes some across his nose just to watch him scrunch it up.

“That tickles.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

They sit like that for a while, Lucifer watching Asmo do his makeup and then asking what it’s for. Asking for Asmo to do the same to him. It makes Mammon think of the times before RAD was fully built, when Lucifer still had time for all of them. It makes him think of before, right after the twins were born, when by some miracle he was around for long enough to know them. Lucifer’s been busy since before Mammon was thrust on him, since before Mammon was created, he must be so tired.

“What are you doing this for?” Lucifer has shifted so he’s sitting halfway in Asmo’s lap, forcing the younger to work around him and his wings.

“I’m going out.”

“To where?”

“I’m going to hang out with Solomon.” The answer makes Lucifer’s wings ruffle unhappily, makes him cross his arms over his chest.

“I do not like him.” His voice has shifted so it’s louder again, coming from multiple places at once now that he’s upset.

“I know.”

“Then why do you hang out with him?”

“He makes me happy.” Asmo sets his things down and pets the top of Lucifer’s head, fluffing through his hair in a way that Lucifer would never let him if he were himself. At present, the casual affection makes a chirp rise in the back of his throat and he leans into the touch like a cat.

“Oh,” he considers this for a second. “I suppose that if he makes you happy, it is okay.” Asmo laughs.

“You’ve said that before.”

“It is an easy choice. You are happy. That is what matters most to me.”

“He looks so different,” Asmo meets Mammon’s eyes through the mirror, “but I guess his goals have always been the same, haven’t they?”

–

Lucifer insists on walking Asmo to the door and staring down Solomon silently as they leave. It makes Mammon laugh and Solomon almost piss his pants. Asmo rolls his eyes at the whole ordeal and kisses Lucifer’s forehead as he leaves. Neither of them take a picture of the way his cheeks flush at the action, just like neither of them set it as his contact photo.

“Mammon,” Lucifer tugs on his sleeve as they make their way back to Mammon’s room, “I am hungry.” Mammon sighs and redirects them to the kitchen.

They find Beel in there, gross and sweaty from a workout, and angrily rummaging through the cabinets.

“Mammon,” he does not sound happy, “where are all of my snacks?”

“Uhhh.” He’s seconds away from slinging Lucifer over his shoulder and sprinting out of the kitchen when Lucifer moves over to look in the cabinets and recognizes something.

“Oh,” he pulls out a bag of chips that only Beel eats, “I had some of these earlier. May I have them again?” He’s looking at Mammon and Beel is looking at him and Mammon sends a prayer to the Demon King that Lucifer manages to survive this because he doesn’t know what he’d do without him.

“You.” Beel’s face is slowly turning red. “You ate my chips.”

“I had not realized they were yours. They are very good.”

There’s a moment of silence where Lucifer stares up at Beel and Beel takes several deep breaths in and out.

“That’s the last bag.”

“Would you like it, then? Mammon will surely find me something else.”

“No,” he sighs, “I guess you can have it.”

“Thank you!” He smiles again and Beel squints against it. “That is very kind.”

“You always say you hate that flavor.” Beel watches Lucifer tear into the bag like he hasn’t eaten in days. Save for the snacks Mammon gave him earlier, he probably hasn’t.

“I do not know why I would lie. These are very good. My favorite of the ones Mammon provided me with earlier.”

“They’re my favorite, too.”

“Would you like to share?” Lucifer offers Beel the bag and pouts a little when Beel shakes his head. His fingers and cheeks are covered in chip crumbs and he’s generally making a mess. He looks adorable.

Beel grumbles and looks at Mammon unhappily,

“You’re lucky.”

“Most definitely.”

“I’m going back to my workout.” Beel grabs something from the fridge that has Mammon’s name on it and makes to leave the kitchen, and Lucifer floats behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“To the gym.”

“What is a ‘gym’?”

“Uh. Follow me, I guess.” And he does. Lucifer watches in wonder as Beel returns to whatever set he was on, insists on trying the equipment, too. “Hey, do you wanna try something?”

“Yes!”

Beel sets himself up for a push up and gestures for his brother to sit on his back. Lucifer finds it delightful, wind-chime giggles ringing through the gym. It almost makes the stench of Beel sweat bearable.

–

Beel has usurped Mammon as little Lucifer’s favorite just because Beel is carrying him around the House on his shoulders.

“That’s not even fair! I can carry him!” Mammon walks slowly in front of Beel on purpose, not above tripping him to get what he wants.

“But you aren’t.” Beel walks deftly around him and Lucifer laughs at the way Mammon runs to catch up. He’s lucky he’s cute.

“Hey!” Levi’s door bangs open and it startles Mammon enough that he shrieks. “I want to hang out with him, too.”

“Levi,” Lucifer wiggles himself off of Beel’s shoulders, “we met earlier, yes?”

“Uh,” he doesn’t seem to know what to do under the weight of his brother’s stare, “yeah. We did.”

“I have done an activity with everyone. What is your activity?”

“We could play a game?”

“Like hide and seek? I do not like hide and seek.” Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest in a way that makes him look almost petulant. “Father always wins.”

“No, I was thinking we could play, uhm. Devil Kart.”

“I do not know what that is.”

“Good, maybe I’ll actually beat you this time.” Levi’s words make Lucifer ruffle in displeasure.

“I do not like to lose.”

“No, you definitely don’t.”

Levi pulls the three of them into his room and turns on the TV, feiging surprise when everything is already set up.

“Will you teach me how to play?” He considers it for a split second.

“No, you’ll figure it out. Afterall, you’re not a baby right?” Lucifer lets out another unflattering squawk followed by grumbles about fairness.

Despite the fact that no one taught him how to play, Lucifer proceeds to beat them all at the game in a way that is unsurprising but extremely annoying. Levi pouts and sighs about it, Envy leaking into the air.

“Do not fret, Levi. I am sure there are things you are better at than me.”

“Don’t lie, Lucifer. You’re good at everything.” Levi sinks further into his tub and jumps when Lucifer’s head pops over the rim.

“I do not believe so. I think I am bad at spending time with my family.” Lucifer’s face twists into a frown. “I did not think I was one to squander such blessings.”

“Well, it’s not like that’s your fault,” Levi rushes to comfort his brother, only because seeing his usually neutral face in anything except that or a smile is discomforting. “You have a lot of responsibilities.”

“Then it is not your fault I beat you at the game then, is it?” A mischievous twinkle lights up his blue eyes, “I must have what they call beginner’s luck.” Levi sits up suddenly, reenergized.

“Yeah! Obviously! There’s no way I’m letting a baby beat me in my own domain.” He grabs a controller again and Lucifer resolutely doesn’t mention the fact that he’s no longer a baby.

–

By the time they all turn in, Levi has managed to beat Lucifer once. Coincidentally, that’s when he kicks them all out of his room, claiming tiredness. The timing works out, because Lucifer is rubbing his eyes tiredly and stifling yawns. Mammon has to restrain the urge to coo several times.

The walk from Levi’s room to Mammon’s is a short one, but Lucifer still seems too tired to make it, so of course, Mammon carries him there. He sets his brother into his bed and goes to lay on his couch when a tiny hand grabs at his wrist.

“Mammon?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Sure.” Mammon crawls under his covers and pretends like this isn’t the first time in a long time he’s cuddled with his brother like this. There’s quiet, and Mammon thinks that Lucifer must be asleep when he says something.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.”

“It’s nothin’.”

“It is not. It is everything.”

–

Mammon knows his brother is back to normal when he wakes up because he is both no longer the big spoon and because baby Lucifer didn’t have this many muscles.

“Mammon,” his brother’s voice is deeper and for once feels like it’s coming out of his body instead of out of thin air.

“Mmh.” He doesn’t move away from the cuddle. Lucifer’s arms seem to tighten around him.

“Thank you.”

“‘S whatever.” He hears Lucifer let out a huff at his easy dismissal and decides to ignore it. His brother’s arms are nice, comforting. It’s been a long time since they’ve hugged like this, since he’s been able to rest in the safety of Lucifer’s hold. He misses it.

“I have to get up.”

“Nah.” Another sigh. Lucifer only shifts to get more comfortable.

“Don’t tell anyone that I’m doing this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

–

It doesn’t matter that Mammon didn’t tell anyone, because the two of them fall back to sleep and when Beel comes to fetch them for breakfast he takes a picture instead of waking them up. 

Lucifer has to pay Asmo not to post it.

[falling-star-cygnus]

❗4GGRAVATE NATION❗ come get y'all's food, i have another headcanon :D [semi-supported by canon, once again]

anyway, i was rewatching Alhaitham's trailer bc of a fanfic i read, and i realized that he's probably the most flexible out of all of them. -> think about it:

Tighnari and Kaveh both use weapons that require a lot of arm strength [even if Kaveh levitates his with Mehrak, he's still got those creaky old man artist joints] which somewhat limits the range of motion in the shoulder area that doesn't nix Tighnari from being quick on his feet, just for the record, i am aware of his acrobatic abilities. But a lot of his gameplay is focused on footwork and jumping

Cyno, on the other hand, despite having a weapon that allows for more of a lithe build- fights like a claymore user. He's a very heavy hitter, and his attacks focus more on relentless force rather than the precision of other polearm characters which is kinda cool if you look back at Kaveh, who DOES fight with precision despite having a claymore

and then you have Alhaitham, who in his original gameplay would arc almost completely into the splits to kick his sword down [i'm still so distraught that they lowered his leg, BRING IT BACK-] it is impressive that he can kick his sword whilst in a mid-air flip though, and still maintains a very aerial style of combat -> also, he can teleport- why don't more people talk about that?

Kaveh comes home to find Alhaitham sitting on their divan, reading one of his books like usual His hands are full of blueprints, with his charcoal balanced precariously on top, but he manages to close the door and start towards his room to set his stuff down. The charcoal hits the ground Alhaitham, glancing down at it: ...hm? Kaveh, pausing; ah- shit, Alhaitham can you grab that for me? My hands are full. Alhaitham, looking back down at his book: Yes, I can see that. Regardless of his 'disinterest', he shifts as if to stand up. And then doesn't. Alhaitham arches over the backrest of the divan to pat at the floor until his fingers brush the charcoal. He places it back onto Kaveh's stack and settles back into his book Kaveh: ....you could have just stood up- Alhaitham: I could've not grabbed it at all.

Cyno and Alhaitham get caught up in a fight with some Eremites on their way back from a ruin exploration or smth [idk i have a headache] It's a pretty evenly matched battle for most of it, but one of them manages to pin Alhaitham with his blade. Cyno makes to help him, but is quickly blocked by another enemy Cyno, scowling: Alhaitham-! The scribe dismisses his blade in a flurry of golden sparks, only to wrap his thighs around his foe's neck and twist to have the advantage- now having the Eremite pinned, he resummons his weapon Both Cyno and his opponent freeze mid-clash Cyno's Enemy: ...you wish that was you, huh- The general mahamatra attacks twice as viciously

Alhaitham had gone to Tighnari for some minor medical assistance, having been closer to him than the Birmastan [and also just generally not trust it more than his friend] Tighnari had suggested that he rest a little bit before heading back home, to which the scribe easily agreed and settled down on his friend's couch for small nap When the fox goes to wake him before it gets too late to safely travel back, Alhaitham blearily stretches backwards over the armrest until he's nearly in half- sighing a little as it works out a few kinks in the small of his back Tighnari blatantly stares Alhaitham, pausing as he works his boots back on: ...Everything ok? The fox covers the lower part of his face and offers no more than a thumbs up

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - prologue: when we met in venice (part 1)

pairing: photographer!Joshua x influencer fem!reader

genre: comedy, drama, fluff, strangers to enemies to ????

warnings: alcohol and food consumption, cursing, drama, minor violence and involvement of the police

word count: 2.9k

summary: in the world of fashion, social media and influence, you're one of the game changers. But you never knew that a smaller player in the form of a freelance photographer would be able to change you.

Author's note: hello I am indeed alive and so is this series!! this is also part of the SVTHUB World Tour collab hosted by @svthub!

p.s.1: in case you wonder why the teaser part isn't included in this fic.... it's because I split it in half heheheheh

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Fashion Week. Probably one of the most exciting weeks in your life, even more than Christmas.

A week full of runway shows and models dressed in extravagant outfits, interviews with designers from all over the world and huge chances of expanding your network all over the world.

Every single year, you’ve never failed to attend the shows, no matter the city it takes place in and this year is no exception. 

Your recent collaboration with Prada landed you an illustrious invitation to the front rows of their fashion show and you would never miss the chance to visit Venice, given the fact it has been on your travel bucket list for ages.

And here you are, on the grand night, sitting on the front row with Liz, your trusty helper, amongst other celebrities with names brighter than diamonds. Under other circumstances, you would have felt at least intimidated, but knowing that some of these celebrities follow you on social media is a huge ego boost for you.

The show begins and you fall silent, your eyes watching the stunning yet stoic looking models parade on the catwalk, each one of them dressed with the latest designs. You can hear faint whispers from all around you, probably discussing (or criticizing) about the clothes.

Fucking stuck up idiots, you think. A bit ironic, but it doesn’t stop you from making this thought.

Nevertheless, you decide to stop bothering with the rest of the guests and focus your sights on the runway, keeping mental notes of the sleek designs, occasionally whipping out your phone to keep photos and videos of the event.

A few hours later, you enjoy a glass of pink champagne, casually walking through the halls of Centro Congressi of San Servolo. Your ears catch conversations made in multiple languages, Italian being the dominant one - you are in Italy, after all.

“I know we’ve been in fashion shows before, but something about Venice feels so….classy.” Liz looks around the hall with curious eyes.

“Keep your eyes peeled, darling, it will be a great chance for you to learn even more.” You send her a wink.

“Y-Yes, of course, Miss!” 

“Jesus Christ, you can just call me by my name, it’s not like we’re that apart in terms of age!”

“I- No, I never even thought of that!” The blond girl gestures apologetically, “It’s purely out of respect and courtesy.”

“How did I get so lucky with you?” You pat her head gently, still holding your glass in your hand, “Don’t worry too much though - You can always help yourself to a glass of champagne.”

Liz gives you a hearty smile, but that smile turns into a scared expression as you’re about to turn around to walk away, not noticing the incoming man behind you.

“Miss Y/N, watch out-”

You let out a scream in the middle of the hall, as you bump into the unknown man and his glass of champagne crashes and spills all over your Prada outfit, drenching the expensive fabrics.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry-” The man apologizes honestly, “Wait, let me help-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole!” You snap at him, “Are you even aware of how expensive my outfit is?!”

“I do, that’s why I wish to help!” 

“Yeah, I can see how much you’re helping right now!”

“Miss Y/N, please, let’s not cause a scene!” Liz begs you to stop yelling, as she tries to calm you down.

“Maybe you should listen to your friend,” he comments, “She’s clearly more composed than you.”

“What did you say?” You narrow your eyes at the infuriatingly handsome man.

“Miss Y/N, let’s just g-”

With a swift motion, you splash your remaining champagne over his face and throw the glass on the marbled ground, the loud noise making more heads turn towards you.

“If you knew where the fuck you were going, none of this would have happened, asshole!” You turn on your heel angrily and Liz follows right behind, bowing repeatedly, as a form of apology.

The young man stands in the middle of the hall like a frozen pole, unable to form a sentence. He takes a few looks around and notices lots of other guests looking at him with mockery and disdain written all over their faces. He’s certain that the whole incident will make the tour of the online world until the end of the night and the tour of the TV morning gossip shows until the next day arrives.

A waiter approaches the man and wordlessly hands him a cotton napkin, the latter accepting it with a nod of his head to clean whatever he could from his ruined outfit.

"Anything else I can do to help you, sir?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," He sighs in defeat, "but thank you nonetheless."

The next morning finds you in your hotel room, angrily watching the news tabloids about the champagne incident with two eye patches on your under eye area and a pitch black coffee in your hand.

"Preposterous. Utterly preposterous!" You close the TV and throw the remote controller on the bed.

"Miss Y/N, I'm really sorry for what happened," Liz hangs her head in shame, "If only I had noticed him coming towards you sooner-"

"If you feel so bad for everything that happened last night and you want to prove that you're not useless, find me that man's info!" 

“I already did that last night, Miss.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?!”

“You were asleep, Miss!” Liz defends herself. “It's rude to wake up someone in the middle of their sleep.”

“What’s the point of not ruining my sleep, if my career is falling apart within mere moments?!” You yell at her.

“I’m sorry! I’m just trying my best to support you, but yelling at me won’t help at all!” Liz retaliates and you nearly gasp from her newfound resolve.

You let out a deep sigh and sit on the bed, crossing your legs.

“You’re right. You’re actually the only person that has done nothing wrong.” You rub your temples with your fingers. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand your frustration.” Liz responds with a small smile, “If you still want to discuss about that gentleman’s info-”

“Gentleman?! He ruined my clothes!”

“I know! But he still tried to help-”

“Just give me his info, Liz.”

She hands over her tablet to you and your fingers start swiping on the screen, browsing through the notes Liz has kept.

“Joshua Hong, freelance photographer? Eh, I expected more.” You grimace in disappointment.

“I think he’s very talented. He’s definitely not as pompous as other photographers who have made a name for themselves.”

“Whose side are you on again?”

“Yours! I’m just….sharing my first impression of him…”

“You find him charming, don’t you?” You raise your eyebrow at her.

“But he is!”

You stare at the tablet screen, your eyes fixated on the profile picture of his Instagram account.

His facial features are so balanced and his skin is so perfect and you know it's not a filtered photo - with your experience, you know when a photo on social media is filtered, and this one is very much real.

“Yeah. In a very infuriating way.”

"Did he really bother you that much?"

"Well duh!" 

"It was still an accident-"

"That made me the center of all social media gossip and drama!"

You pause right after finishing your sentence, the gears in your head spinning faster than the wheels of a Ferrari.

"Um, Miss Y/N?"

"Liz, I will need your help."

"Of course, but what for?"

A Cheshire cat grin spreads on your lips.

"Why, addressing the situation of course."

"You plan on releasing a statement?"

"Of course. Can't let the whole drama unattended, right?" You take a sip from your coffee.

"Miss, are you sure about this?"

"One hundred percent. I promise, it won't take more than ten minutes. Then we can go get a proper breakfast by the pool."

“Seriously, she just dropped a whole glass on you because you accidentally dropped a glass on her?”

“Crazy, I know,” Joshua sighs, “and because of that, my face is all over the paparazzi news!”

“At least you’re looking good in front of the camera!”

“Cheol, can you please be serious about this? My career is hanging by a thread!”

“It was just a petty dispute, people will forget about it in a few days,” Seungcheol replies calmly, “You just got a champagne bath, you weren’t caught by the police for drug trafficking.”

“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound as bad.”

“See? You just need to be chill about it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But still, she sounded so fucking entitled, like?”

“Well, she’s a top class influencer, what did you expect?”

“She’s a what now?”

“Really now, Josh?” Seungcheol sighs in disappointment.

"I'm a photographer, not someone who sells fairytales and Pinterest-related stuff on social media." Joshua scoffs.

"It still doesn't change the fact that you live under a rock."

"I was literally invited to Fashion Week, fuck you Cheol."

"Either way, I suggest you look into her social media, just to be prepared."

"Fine, whatever - Wait, prepared for what?"

"For any possible scenario!"

"You said that it wasn't something serious not too long ago!"

"I did. But it's always wise to have a backup plan in case things go south."

"That last bit felt really ominous…."

"You can always not pay attention to me!"

"Don't you have a job to do?"

"I am my own boss, in case you're forgetting." Seungcheol snickers.

"You remind me with every chance you get…" Joshua groans.

"I love you too, Josh. Gotta go now, buddy, it was nice talking to you."

"Good luck out there, Cheol."

"Could say the same for ya."

Joshua ends the call and drops his phone on the mattress, deciding to get dressed and visit the hotel restaurant for some brunch.

His phone rings again, but it's multiple notifications this time.

"Someone's impatient…" He mutters to himself as he picks up his phone again.

seungcheol: I fear I might have jinxed your downfall

seungcheol: please stay calm while you're reading the next screenshot

seungcheol has sent a photo.

Joshua opens the photo and carefully reads the white text on the black background, the blood in his body steadily rushing to his head.

Hello, this is Y/N. I am writing this post to address the situation that occured last night in San Servolo. 

First of all, I am deeply sorry for the trouble I caused to the rest of the guests and the organizers of the event, as it does not reflect the person I truly am. However, I must say that major damages occurred due to mister Joshua Hong's carelessness, since the outfit I donned was custom made by the house of Prada.

I am willing to put this unfortunate incident to rest, as long as the perpetrator is also willing to compensate for the damages made.

Once again, I am sorry for the trouble I caused. 

"What the fuck is this?!" Joshua yells in the middle of his room and rapidly types back to Seungcheol.

joshua: IS SHE FUCKING SERIOUS

joshua: COMPENSATION? SHE DELIBERATELY RUINED MY CLOTHES TOO

seungcheol: josh calm down for Christ's sake

joshua: how am I supposed to calm down after this??

joshua: bitch took her own narrative and ran with it

joshua: bet you this is already circling around the gossip tabloids

seungcheol: do you want me to contact my lawyer and see what we can do?

joshua: no not yet

joshua: desperate times call for desperate measures

seungcheol: joshua please don't

Joshua chooses to ignore his friend's texts and reaches out for the telephone on his nighstand, in order to call the reception.

He knows Prada has reserved rooms for all the ambassadors in this hotel, so you must be staying in the same hotel as him.

"Hotel Baglioni de Luna, how may I help you?"

"Good morning, this is Joshua Hong."

"Oh, hello sir Hong! What can I do for you?"

"If it is possible, could you perhaps tell me if miss…Y/N L/N is present in her room?"

"She called not too long ago to ask about the morning buffet. I supposed she must be taking breakfast."

"Thank you kindly for your help." 

"Have a good morning, sir Hong."

Definitely not good, but might as well make it hell for her, Joshua thinks as he ends the call. 

He gets up and opens his closet, taking out a pair of jeans and a linen shirt, quickly changing into them. He slips on his shoes and grabs his phone, room key and wallet before he leaves.

"Let's see what you will do now, miss Y/N."

If Satan had an only child, you would probably be the one.

You're happily enjoying your breakfast together with Liz right next to the pool, humming a happy tune as you take a bite from your cookie.

"Is it really possible to be so happy from one person's misery?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, darling." You reply with a smile on your face.

Liz sighs deeply and resumes eating her breakfast.

"There you are, you poisonous bitch!"

The loud voice nearly makes the girl jump from her seat, but you remain unfazed, until Joshua is stomping his way to your table, slamming his phone on the surface.

"What do you think you're doing?" You look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I should be asking you that question!" He shoves the phone in your face with your statement on it, "Compensation? Contacting the company?! Bitch, we're ambassadors of the same brand!"

"Yet you were the first one to ruin my outfit!" You angrily get up from your seat.

"And you were the one who ruined mine on purpose!" Joshua retaliates.

"Both of you, please stop causing a scene again, everyone is looking!" Liz tries to separate the two of you, noticing how everyone is staring at you and Joshua, just like last night.

"Perhaps I should release a statement as well and sue you for defamation - At least I'm kind enough to warn you beforehand." He spits with a venomous tone.

"Oh, because that would be so beneficial to someone who is as insignificant as you. Freelance photographer, my ass. You're just another paparazzi who wants the few minutes of fame!" 

Your words make Joshua furious beyond the point of return and he picks up your coffee cup, splashing it all over you in the same manner you threw champagne on him.

"There, now we're even, you dramatic bitch."

"Mister Hong!" Liz yells at him, "What is wrong with you?!"

You grit your teeth and raise your right hand, immediately slapping him across the face with full force, making sure it left a handprint on his face.

"You are the worst person I've ever met in my life!"

"I could say the same about you!"

Your anger consumes you and you physically lunge yourself at him, pulling him by the shirt to tackle him. Unfortunately for you, he's much stronger than you and he manages to retain his balance, giving him an opening to push you against the table and knock over some of the plates.

"You asshole!" You yell and get back on your feet, pushing Joshua away. This time, he actually loses his balance and falls into the pool.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yells at you as he tries to get out of the pool.

"You're the one who made me do it in the first place!"

Liz stands at the sidelines, watching the scene unfold with horror and she runs to one of the waiters without hesitation.

"Call the hotel security, or the police! Just call someone, please!"

The waiter nods and rushes to the mini bar, shortly asking the staff to alert the security.

Only a couple of minutes later, two men of the hotel security barge through the glass doors and make their way to the pool, where two more waiters are trying to separate you from Joshua.

"Stop right there!" They yell and apprehend the both of you, waving at the waiters to stand aside.

"Let me go! He's the one who started it!" You yell out loud.

"You can say that to the police when they arrive," the other man informs you, "you've already caused a great deal of discomfort to the rest of the guests and damages to the area."

"But-"

"Oh, just shut up already!" Joshua curses at you again.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, asshole!"

The security have to forcefully bring you down to the ground level of the hotel, where two police cars are parked outside the entrance. 

"One of your staff told us about the situation, that's why we brought two vehicles - we can't suffer damages either." The police officer explains as he handcuffs you and Joshua separately, leading you towards the cars.

"Wait!" Liz runs outside, "Let me go with her!"

"We cannot allow that, Miss. You might be called in later by the officers for a testimony, but that's all you can do."

"Liz!" You shout from inside the car.

"Yes ma'am?!"

"Call my lawyer and tell her everything!"

"Will do!" She shouts back and watches the officers return in the vehicles, taking you and Joshua away.

She looks behind her, multiple guests and hotel staff discussing with disapproval written all over their faces. It's guaranteed that photos and videos will already circulate the Internet and the damage control will be insanely hard to complete.

"Lord give me the strength to pull through this."

[xanty8sau]

✨My opinions on KNY ships✨

This is something no one asked for but anyways. (This included platonic and romantic ships, and I'm a multishipper) No hate please on some of my opinions and only the ships that I know will be mentioned and NO adult x minor or sibling x sibling.

Uzuren (Tengen x Kyojuro): I love these two as either platonic or romantic, I wrote a fanfic about these two that is over 80k words so it hold a special place in my heart. This ship was also the reason I got into demon slayer. (Yes I am aware of Tengen having three wives but their dynamic was appealing)

Obamitsu (Obanai x Mitsuri): I think these two are really nice. When I first started demon slayer I didn't hold strong opinions on them but I think they're very cute now and their ending was heart breaking😭

AmaKaga (Amane x Kagaya): I love these two, they're my favourite canon couple in the series and I'm so upset that they died but at least they died together and for a greater cause.

AoIno (Aoi x Inosuke): This ship seemed to come up out of nowhere for me, like they interact and some of it's funny but would've never seen these two as a couple. It's a ship I'm meh on.

Butterfly girls (platonic, Kanae, Shinobu, Kanao, Aoi): I love the found family bond they have and I want to know more about Kanae but over all any pairing out of these four is only seen as platonic for me.

ObaSane (Obanai & Sanemi): honestly these two just seem like friends to me, like two bestie that like to talk shit about others. I know these two gossip when they get the chance and they definitely talk shit about Giyuu.

RenGiyuu (Rengoku & Giyuu): I like their dynamic of being opposites, it's appealing to me but tend to see them more as friends than anything but still a decent ship.

RenMistu (Rengoku & Mitsuri): Love the sibling bond they have but not really into them being romantic with each other.

Rengoku x Obanai: I don't have mush thoughts on this, it's meh to me.

RenKaza (Rengoku & Akaza): I used to like this ship but now I find it really weird like I'm pretty sure Rengoku hates Akaza and Akaza literally killed Rengoku, so it's a no for me.

RenSane (Rengoku & Sanemi): When Rengoku was my favourite character (he's still in my top five) I shipped him with a lot of characters so that included this ship. I personally don't see now, looking back on it.

GenMui (Genya & Muichirou): I honestly have no idea how I got into this ship, for me I ship Genya and Muichirou romantically and platonically. They're both my favourite characters and I like their personalities and possibly the height difference and their fighting style and strength. I could go on and on, I like these two :) (please don't come after me because these two don't have many interactions)

TanKana (Tanjiro x Kanao): It's cute I think this is one of the few ships I like with Tanjiro, I don't know it sits better with me than some other ships.

MuiTan (Muichirou x Tanjiro): I can see where some people are coming from, Tanjiro is a very shippable character but personally I don't ship Muichirou with anyone other than Genya from occasion-to-occasion.

ZenNezu (Zenitsu x Nezuko): ehhhhh, I'm not a big fan of Zenitsu especially in the earlier seasons but he's kinda grown on me, I don't hate this ship but I also don't really like this ship.

InoZen (Inosuke x Zenitsu): not much feeling about this other than I think Zenitsu is very straight but that's just my opinion. :[

InoTan (Inosuke x Tanjiro): I kinda shipped it but I now see them as more of brothers than romantic partners.

InoTanZen (Inosuke x Tanjiro x Zenitsu): My found brothers pairing but honestly these three are chaotic and I love them but it's definitely platonic.

GenTan (Genya x Tanjiro): These two are my babies but it's more platonic than anything, I love how their friendship had developed over the series.

MuiNezu (Muichirou x Nezuko): Similar to MuiTan I only really ship Muichirou with Genya but this ship makes less sense to me than Muitan because Nezuko and Muichirou interact less Genya and Muichirou so the ship seems to be coming out of nowhere for me.

Sanemi & Genya: God their relationship breaks every time, I love both of them and I just want them to be happy and I tend to ignore canon when comes to the ending anyways.

SaneKana (Sanemi x Kanae): Some people will argue that this ship was partly canon but I don't care, it's cute the idea of it but it's not something I personally ship.

Sanegiyuu (Sanemi x Giyuu): I'll be honest I hated Sanegiyuu when I first started getting into demon slayer, it could've been because I didn't like either Sanemi or Giyuu and thought the ship was over down. I will say it has grown on me a lot still not in my top three but I don't hate it and can kinda see where people are coming from. (I have started a plan for a Sanegiyuu fic anyways).

Shinogiyuu (Shinobu x Giyuu): Similar to Sanegiyuu but I don't ship it.

That's it for now I'm too tired to keep going I might edit this later, these are just my opinions but I would love to hear yours :3

[anime-owo-kage-san]

The one thing I think is missing in Overlord!Husk fanfics/art/comics:

Would be Crymini.

Like, just imagine Overlord Husk has a personal assistant, and that assistant is Crymini. (With the Ron and April dynamic thing.)

And no. She is not qualified for most of what it is in her job, nor is she willing to learn. And she doesn’t use formalities when speaking to Husk. She just uses his name, no ‘sir’ when speaking to or about him. (She does refer to him as ‘boss/the boss’ sometimes, when she’s feeling playful.)

Despite that, Husk hasn’t fired her yet and his employees are aware of why; he practically adopted her at this point.

Husk: “I’ll be back by six. Meanwhile, keep this place running. Crymini’s in charge.”

Random worker: “Nepotism. Sweet…”

Husk: “What was that?”

Random worker: “N-Nothing, sir!”

Husk: “That’s what I thought.”

And with Huskerdust in the mix, where Angel’s soul contract is transferred to Husk:

Crymini: *walking in front with Angel tailing behind, because Husk asked her to give him a tour.*

Crymini: *using her phone, while speaking to Angel in a flat voice* “This the hallway… That’s a lamp, that’s another lamp, that’s the elevator at the end of the hall, that’s a picture frame. You’ll be working downstairs, I don’t think we need a tour there yet. I mean, you know the way down, the stairs are right there… I think you got it, right?”

Angel: “Um… yeah. Actually, I have a few questions—“

Crymini: *sighs*

Crymini: “Yes, Husk is single. No, he’s not looking for anyone, so don’t try. Yes, I have ‘connections’ to him even when I’m out the casino. No, I’m not obligated to give you his number unless he says so.”

Crymini: “Could you horny old skanks stop asking me these questions. I’m not his kid, and even if I am, I’m not the ‘matchmaking’ type of daddy’s girl. My old ma—The… old man can find himself a good lay, on his own.”

Angel: “That wasn’t what I was… Well, it wasn’t gonna be the first thing I ask, but—Wait a minute. Old skank?”