#you know what it is you shall not listen to

[ozzgin]

content: female reader, monster romance, Secret Santa gift for the lovely @jinnmyc! Happy Holidays <3

You've always found your monstrous husband to be particularly imposing. He never loses his cool, and his smile is a rarity reserved only for your presence.

"He's a tough one," you find yourself remarking to his beastly butler.

The scaly servant nods, a faint grin threatening to crease his features. With a dry cough, he covers his face, allowing himself a moment of recollection.

You see, there's a certain intimacy that remains hidden even from you. He knows it too well. He'd probably be thrown over a grill if he ever dared to suggest such blasphemous truths to you, so he can only smile cheekily whenever you mention his Master's impenetrable character.

Indeed, only he's been allowed to witness the Dark Lord's pathetic, deplorable displays. Without exception, they're all about you. His jealousy, his greed, his desperate need to be in your presence.

His horrid Majesty will lead strategic meetings with a calculated frown, only to crumble to his knees when all other officials have left the chamber. "Two days left, Sir," the butler will coo at the unholy creature. "(Y/N) will be exactly where you left her."

What else comes to mind? Perhaps all the times he quietly listens to your daily interactions, merely flinching - an unnoticeable jolt - whenever you recall a particularly daring approach from some poor soul. "Then he grabbed my shoulder," you'll say, narrating your story unaware and indifferent. Ah, there it is; the butler's eyes narrow in glee. Whoever found the audacity to touch you shall be swiftly discarded. Unbeknownst to you, someone's fate has been sealed.

"I didn't think you'd be home for Christmas," you exclaim, surprised by the Demon King's arrival. "Weren't you caught in a war?"

"Well, I made it happen," he responds nonchalantly.

The butler follows his movements with a silent chuckle. He thinks back to the fire, the scorched cities, the piles of cadavers growing with each swift blow of his Master's unforgiving wrath.

"You're exceptionally vicious today, Sir," he said at the time. "Might it have anything to do with the little human's approaching holidays?"

"Ah! This reminds me," the Dark Lord began, pulling his sword out of a fallen soldier, "bring me the goods tonight. I've been told the Earthlings wrap their presents in colorful paper."

[gamerexdrex]

"Hey! Let me go you oversized lizard!" Screamed the farmer, struggling against your grip.

Honestly, if it wasn't to prove to the stuck ups at the council, you would have never bothered even looking twice at this human, much less putting up with her screeching; but alas, sacrifices must be made for your tesis.

But it's damn hard when the human has been biting at your fingers. You are not sure why she thought it was a good idea, it has only been bothering you and might hurt her teeth.

When you finally, FINALLY, make it to the old castle, your are about ready to sleep a hundred years; but it isn't the time! You need! To teach! The human!

You land on the patio of the castle, with plenty of space for practice, and gently put the raving human down.

"Listen human-"

WACK

The human somehow found a large stick in the five seconds you've been in this place and immediatly hit your eye.

You should have just horded gold like your mom

"Listen-"

WACK

"human-"

WACK

"do you-"

WACK

"want-"

WACK

"to learn-"

WACK

"magic"

She stops in her tracks, and looks at you confused. "Soooo you are not going to eat me"

Your eye twichs "If I wanted a meal, I would have eaten the king's whole army of horses"

"Oh"

There is a bit of awkard silence

"So when do we begin?" She beams

You smile

"When I finish taking a nap, give 5 minutes and we'll start."

.....

You scribble the runes yet again, and once again, nothing happens.

The dragon seems even more disappointed than before somehow.

"It should work now, I don't know how this is possible"

You stare and can't help but feel frustrated with yourself. it's supposed to work, you two have been trying up until sundown.

It's probably your fault nothing happens.

You can hear the dragon's voice above you "let's take a break, shall we? Maybe when our heads are clear, we'll find a solution"

You wonder if the dragon is either very positive or very stubborn

After a fire and a couple of sheep the dragon got from...somewhere for dinner, you stare at the stars. You don't think you've seen this constelations before

"I'm sorry"

You turn to the dragon, surprised.

"I brought you here against your will, told you I would teach you magic, and we have yet to get a reaction from the runes" He lowers his head "So I apologise little human"

After a moment of shock, you smile sadly "It's alright, I guess I just wasn't cut out for this"

"Don't say that human; acording to my research, every human has the capacity to channel magic; and we did everything right"

You bite your cheek "If you say so" you look over the runes "what does it say anyways?"

You don't notice the dragon freezing in place but you do notice when he speaks up

"What"

Confused, you turn to him "well, yes? I don't know what we are writing so..."

He stares some more "Isn't this common knowledge? There are books written by you humans! That's how I know you could do magic!"

Is your turn to stare

"Quick question, how are those books?"

"There are just a little over a hundred yea-" the dragons stops and, after processing the imformation a bit, slams his head on the ground.

"I forgot to account human ages, of course I did"

You sit besides the dispairimg dragon "Soooo I assume meaning and understaning are important for magic"

"Mhm" He answers, head still on the ground "We've been writing the true names of spirits and powerful beings. You summon or imbude the strenght of those entities by writing them on this language. But it only works if the entity is understood to be powerful."

You ponder for a bit, and run to grab your big stick

"Can you tell me your name?"

The dragon looks up "huh?"

"Or at leats how it would be written in that weird old language, I have an idea"

The dragon looks at you a bit more, shrugs, and begins writing on the ground with it's claw

You carve the runes on the stick, now with the understanding that this is the name of your teacher.

Once finished, you looked at the letters and something odd happens. They begin to shine.

You aim at the sky, and a blast of purple light comes out of the tip of it, so strong that it send you flying. You are caught by the dragon. The hairs of your neck are standing up.

There is silence

"Y-you did it"

"I did it"

"YOU DID IT"

"I DID IT"

You both begin to laugh, of delight, of satisfaction, of relief, of excitement.

You did it

The other dragons laughed when you shared your thesis that humans should be capable of learning magic. Infuriated, you fly off to capture a human and teach it the ways of magic.

[theroundbartable]

Genderswitch AU.

Because Uther never had a son, his daughter, Arthuria has to present as male (whether Arthur is trans or not is not relevant to the concept. I shall use they/them pronouns to keep it optional and call Arthuria/Arthur Arthuri in the following bits).

So, when Uther declared Merlin Arthuri's manservant, Arthuri panics. The relationship between prince and manservant is always intimate, their father should know.

Uther is, at this point, so ignorant, that he forgets sometimes about Arthuri's situation and how it affects them.

Uther is reminded of it long after Arthuri has gotten used to Merlin's kind and charming ways.

Uther, walking in on Arthuri, half naked, throwing a pillow at Merlin.

Uther: OUT!!!

Merlin: *hurries to leave*

Arthuri: Father!!!! What is the meaning of this!!!!

Uther: you let him see you like - this??!?!

Arthuri: *brow raised* when I told you my concerns, you wouldn't listen. But it's no worry. Merlin is an idiot, he doesn't even know. (Merlin does, in fact, know, he's just unaffected and openminded)

Uther: he can't be that much of an idiot

Arthuri: really? Have you talked to the guy?

[sayokoni]

The weight of hatred

Summary: The reader is assigned as Toji Zenin’s maid in the hostile Zenin estate. Despite his indifference and the clan’s hate for him, she continues to serve him, gradually softening the distance between them.

Warnings: Abuse (towards Toji </3), Neglect, hostile environment, Master and servant relationship, some insult, a little cursing ( please let me know if I forget smt:p )

Word count: 2,9k

“Go away.”

“Piece of shit.”

“You were a mistake.”

“Just die already.”

These were the words Toji had heard every day, without fail, from members of his own clan. They didn’t even bother to hide their hatred for him. It didn’t matter if he was minding his own business, if he was sleeping, or even if he was on the verge of death—those hateful looks and venomous words never disappeared. It was as if they had made it their mission to make him feel like he didn’t belong here, like he was a burden that needed to be removed.

Even when he was silent and still, lost in his own thoughts or resting in solitude, he could feel their eyes on him, full of disgust. It was a constant, oppressive weight, one that had been with him since the moment he was born into this cruel world.

At first, it stung, like an open wound that wouldn’t heal. But over the years, he had learned to accept it. There was no point in fighting it. He couldn’t change their minds, and he couldn’t change the way they treated him. So he did the only thing he could—he grew numb. He shut off his emotions, buried them deep, and let the bitterness and hatred wash over him like a storm he couldn’t escape.

It was never going to stop. Toji had long since accepted that. The hatred would stay with him until the day he died, and maybe even beyond that. So he learned to live with it, because it was the only thing he could do.

“Hey, scum, get up. There’s a family meeting, and they want everyone there” came the sharp, voice of one of the clan members.

Toji glanced up for a moment but said nothing. What he wanted to say—what burned at the back of his throat—was a simple “Fuck off.” But he didn’t. He hadn’t said things like that in years.

What was the point? Fighting back wouldn’t help. If anything, it would only make things worse for him. It always did. Besides, how much worse could it get? They already treated him like garbage, like a parasite they couldn’t quite get rid of.

He’d endured it all before. The insults, the starvation, the endless punishments—they had tried to break him in every way they could think of. And maybe they had succeeded. Toji couldn’t remember the last time he felt something other than anger or emptiness. Nothing they did now could hurt him in the same way again.

So he didn’t fight back, didn’t argue, didn’t let them see even a flicker of defiance. Instead, he simply stood up, his movements slow and steady ,as if the weight of his existence was too much to bear.

There was no purpose in resisting.

So he would simply continue existing, waiting for death to eventually claim him.

“The Zenin clan has seen remarkable growth over the past years,” one of the elders announced proudly during the meeting. His voice carried an air of smugness that got on Toji’s nerves. “Our clan is wealthy, and we can count many young members who show great promise as future fighters. To honor our success, we shall hold a grand festival. We will celebrate with lots of food, entertainment, and, of course, buy us more maids, concubines, and whatever else our hearts desire.”

Toji sat in the corner of the room, arms crossed, listening to their self-congratulatory speeches with growing disgust. They dragged him here for this? To pat themselves on the back and flaunt their arrogance in front of one another? His jaw tightened as he clenched his fists under the table.

So full of themselves. So unbearably self-satisfied. It made him sick to his stomach.

He barely kept himself from walking out of the room, the bitterness rising in his chest. But leaving would only draw attention to himself, and thats the last thing he wanted. Instead he sat there, angry and annoyed, just waiting for it to end.

A total of 150 maids and concubines had been brought into the Zenin clan, with about two-thirds serving as maids and the rest as concubines. You were one of the ordinary maids, without any special abilities or talents. You could cook, clean, sew, and perform all the duties expected of a maid.

When you were first informed that you would be sold to the Zenin clan, you weren’t exactly thrilled. Everyone knew of their reputation—stories of their cruelty spread like wildfire. Rumors spoke of the clan’s heartless nature, where torture and punishment were part of their daily routine. It was said they wouldn’t even spare their own blood if someone dared to step out of line.

These rumors made your stomach turn, but there was no escaping your fate. You were just a maid, with no power or influence to change what was to come.

You were led through the grand gates of the Zenin estate, your heart heavy with each step. The towering walls, the grand buildings, the shiny floors—they all seemed to shine with wealth and power, but you knew the truth. Everything here was built on blood, pain, and suffering. The estate, with its beautiful designs and expensive materials, was a place that felt like it had been soaked in tragedy. Each corner seemed to hold a dark history, a reminder of the cruelty that ran deep within the Zenin clan. The luxury surrounding you felt oppressive, like it was closing in on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that all this wealth had come at the cost of many lives, and you were now a part of it, trapped in a world that didn’t care about you or anyone else. The beauty around you seemed fake, as though it was trying to cover up the darkness beneath.

You had been told your duties would be simple—serve your assigned master, follow orders, and keep your head down. Do what you were told, and perhaps you’d avoid the wrath of the clan. At first, you were relieved. A life of servitude seemed like the easiest path in such a cruel world. But then they told you who you’d be serving.

Toji Zenin.

The name sent a chill down your spine, even though you had never met him. You had heard whispers from the other maids, their voices full of fear and disgust. “The clan’s black sheep,” they called him. “A man despised even by his own blood.” They said he was dangerous, violent, a man who had no loyalty or care for anyone around him. Rumors painted him as a monster—cruel, silent, and detached, a living weapon with a heart as cold as stone.

But when you first saw him, fear didn’t take hold of you like you expected. Instead, there was something else, something you couldn’t quite understand. His presence was overwhelming, impossible to ignore. His tall, broad figure stood like a constant reminder of his strength, yet there was a certain defiance in the way he carried himself. Despite that, it wasn’t his size or strength that caught your attention. It was his eyes. They held something you hadn’t expected to see—something that surprised you. They were filled with exhaustion, a deep bitterness, and an overwhelming weariness. It was as if his eyes told a story, one of a man who had suffered countless wounds, both physical and emotional, and who had been broken only to be forced to rebuild himself again. The world had shaped him into something harsh, and it showed in the way he looked at everything around him, as though he was tired of it all.

“Hey, scum. This is your personal maid,” a clan member said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You only get one because you’re not worth more.”

Toji barely spared you a glance, his eyes sweeping over you without any hint of interest. His gaze was flat, almost as if he was looking right through you. He didn’t seem to care at all about the fact that you were now his servant.

“Be grateful you even get this,” the clan member sneered, his words sharp as he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in front of Toji’s chambers.

You didn’t know what to say. The air between you felt thick with discomfort, and you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react. Before you could find your voice, Toji turned back to you, his expression distant.

“Do whatever you want,” he said in a low, uncaring tone. “I don’t have a use or need for a maid.” He gave you one last glance, a look that held no emotion, then turned and walked into his chambers without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing there, frozen, as his words echoed in your mind.

You felt the weight of his indifference settle in your chest. He wasn’t cruel—no, that would have been easier to bear. He simply didn’t care. You were nothing to him, a tool he had no use for, and that truth stung deeper than any insult could have.

THE NEXT DAY

You were one of the first to wake up this morning, ready to serve your assigned master, despite the fact that Toji had made it very clear that he didn’t need you, that you were nothing more than another burden in his life. But still, you did your duty without complaint.

The moment, as you walked into the kitchen to collect his meal, something felt off. When you approached the counter, your heart sank. The tray set aside for Toji was a mess. The food was burned, charred to the point where it almost looked inedible. The smell was Insufferable, a burnt odor that made your stomach turn. The sight of it sent a wave of confusion through you, but then, reality set in.

Toji wasn’t liked by anyone here—he was a black sheep, treated with hate by his own people. They loathed him, and it was clear they would never give him anything of quality. He was nothing more than an inconvenience to them. The meal you were expected to bring him wasn’t food; it was a punishment. A way for them to make him feel more isolated. You felt a wave of sympathy for him, but it was quickly replaced by the cold reminder that you were just a maid. This was your job.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the tray. Should you bring him this burnt, inedible mess? It wasn’t right, but you had no choice. It was your responsibility to deliver it. So, with a deep breath, you forced yourself to pick up the tray, the weight of it heavier than you expected, though it wasn’t from the food itself.

You walked down the long hallway. When you reached Toji’s chambers, you knocked softly on the door, but there was no response. You waited a moment, thinking he might overheard it but still there was no sound coming from the other side of the room.

You knocked again, this time with a little more force, but still no answer. Your nerves were on edge now. You could leave the tray and go, but that felt like an insult. No, you had to face him, had to do your duty.

You took a deep breath and gathered all the courage you could muster. “Master Toji?” you said, your voice wavering slightly despite your best efforts. “I’ve come to bring you your breakfast..I’m coming in now.”

With those words, you pushed the door open, stepping into the room. The silence in the air was oppressive, thick with an unspoken tension. The room was dark, the only light coming from a crack in the curtains. Toji was seated by the window, his back to you. His posture was rigid, like he was trying to escape from everything around him, even the world outside.

You moved towards a small table, carefully setting the tray down. The food was a mess—an insult, really—but you said nothing. You didn’t want to draw attention to it. But as you turned to leave, you felt his gaze on you. It wasn’t warm, not in the least, but it wasn’t dismissive either. For a split second, you wondered if he would say something—anything—but instead, he just sighed, his voice low and weary.

“You can go now” he said, his tone cold, no emotions in it. nothing.

You nodded, not daring to say another word, and turned to leave. The door closing softly behind you.

By lunchtime, your heart felt heavier than ever in your life. When you went to collect Toji’s meal, you saw the same miserable excuse for food sitting on the tray. Burned, poorly prepared, and clearly made with nothing but contempt. It wasn’t just negligence—it was deliberate. They hated him so much that they wouldn’t even let him have a proper meal.

You carried the lunch tray to his chambers, knowing full well what you’d find. And sure enough, when you entered his room, the untouched breakfast tray was still sitting where you’d left it. The food was cold, and entirely inedible. Toji hadn’t even bothered to glance at it. He remained by the window as always, quiet and detached, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

You placed the new tray beside the old one, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration well up inside you. How could anyone survive like this? How long had he endured being treated like this? The indignity of it all was suffocating, and yet Toji didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at you, as if this treatment was something he’d long since accepted.

As dinnertime arrived, you couldn’t take it anymore. When you went to the kitchens to fetch his evening meal, the sight of yet another tray of disgusting food—burnt beyond recognition, the smell alone turning your stomach—was the last straw. You stood there for a moment, staring at it, your hands trembling with anger. Enough was enough.

Making sure no one was watching, you grabbed the tray and hurried to a quiet corner of the estate where no one would see you. There, you dumped the entire tray into a bin, the sound of the wasted food falling away feeling oddly liberating. You straightened up, your heart pounding. What if someone found out? What if they saw you? But you shook the thoughts away. You couldn’t let him be treated like this anymore.

You made your way to the storage room, slipping inside as quietly as you could. The shelves were lined with ingredients—fresh produce, spices, meats, and grains—all untouched and far too luxurious to be wasted on someone they despised. You hesitated for only a moment before gathering what you needed. You couldn’t do much, but you could at least give him a meal that was edible, something that didn’t reek like death .

Back in the kitchen, you worked quickly and silently, your hands moving with purpose. You prepared a simple but hearty meal, seasoning it with care and making sure everything was cooked perfectly. The smell of the food was comforting, filling the small space with warmth. For the first time since arriving at the Zenin estate, you felt like you were doing something right.

Once the meal was finished, you carefully placed it on a tray and covered it, sneaking away from the kitchen with the same caution as before. Your heart raced as you made your way to Toji’s chambers, every shadow and sound making you jump. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. But you didn’t care. Not anymore.

When you reached his room, you knocked softly, not expecting an answer. As usual, there was only silence. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Toji was sitting by the window, as always, but this time, he glanced over his shoulder at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly when he saw the tray in your hands. You set it down on the table without a word, your hands shaking slightly. For a moment, you thought about explaining yourself, about telling him what you’d done, but the words caught in your throat.

“I brought your dinner,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Toji didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the tray, and then on you, as if trying to figure out what you were playing at. Finally, he let out a low hum, his expression unreadable.

“Did you make this?” he asked, his voice rough but quieter than usual.

You nodded, your palms clammy. “Yes. I thought… I thought you might like something different.”

He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. Then, with a faint shrug, he leaned back in his chair and gestured toward the door. “Leave it. You can go now.”

You hesitated, unsure if he was going to eat or simply let this meal go to waste like the others. But you couldn’t press him, not now. You nodded and turned to leave, closing the door softly behind you.

Later that night, when you returned to collect the tray, your heart sank as you prepared yourself to see the food untouched again. But when you stepped inside and saw the empty plates, your breath caught. He had eaten it. Every last bite.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at the empty tray, your chest tightening with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. You couldn’t tell if this small victory meant anything to him, but it meant something to you. For the first time since arriving at the Zenin estate, you felt like you’d done something that mattered.

Thanks for reading <3

[oqwomyo]

Butler's wedding party. Berrien's card translation.

Part 1.

- Devil's Palace Butlers' Room on the First Floor -

- After the Party -

Berrien: (Fufu... Today was a very fun day.)

Berrien: (Master and the butlers... Everyone was smiling and looking happy...)

Berrien: (I wish this could last forever... This day made me think so.)

Berrien: (Aside from the party...)

Berrien: (Master set days when they would spend with each of the butlers ...)

Berrien: (We... We are really lucky to have such kind Master.)

Berrien: (So, immersing ourselves in happiness is great, but...)

Berrien: (How should I spend the day with Master... I need to start making plans.)

Berrien: (That's right... I'm happy to entertain Master as always...)

Berrien: (A little... Can I be a little selfish?)

- Devil's Palace Garden -

- Later-

A few days have passed since the party... The day that Berrien and I will spend together has arrived. We are lucky with the weather... Today is quite cool for June, and the sun is pleasant. On such a day, Berrien and I... We enjoyed afternoon tea in the garden.

Berrien: Master. Thank you for allowing me, as a butler, to be with you.

Berrien: "Having a tea party with Master" is... As a butler, it was selfish of me..

Berrien: The fact that this is happening... I am very happy.

You: I am also happy to have tea with you.

- Thank you for inviting me.

Berrien: I feel relieved hearing these words.

Berrien: Master. Please enjoy this day.

After saying this, Berrien smiled happily.

Berrien: Fufu, besides...

Berrien: Master and I are having a tea party as a "continuation of the wedding party"... I have never been so happy.

Berrien: Perhaps Master already knows...

Berrien: Drinking tea with people close to me... This is very important to me.

You: We talked about this a little in Caliste.

Berrien: Yes. We talked about marriage in Caliste.

Berrien: "While married, I will drink tea with my partner every day"... I said that.

Berrien: And... This thought has not changed since then.

Berrien: Drinking tea with my family... Spending quiet time with dear people...

Berrien: This attitude will never change.

After saying that, Berrien... He looked straight at me.

Berrien: Therefore... Thank you, Master.

Berrien: I'm sure more than Master can imagine...

Berrien: I... Master has made me so happy.

You: B-Berrien...

Berrien: Fufu, oh my... I've said too much.

Berrien: Master. Thank you for listening to my feelings.

Berrien: Now, shall we continue...? Shall we enjoy tea?

Berrien: Tea and sweets... Please enjoy them as much as you like.

You: Uh-huh...

I followed Berrien's recommendation and... I reached for the tea stand. A three-tiered stand designed to hold sandwiches, scones, and cream puffs... There are many sweets on it. Delicious-looking cross-section sandwiches and even scones... The custard buns look delicious too.

You: Everything looks so delicious.

- I kind of want to eat it all.

Berrien: Fufu... Do you think so?

Berrien: If you say so... Then it was worth all my efforts.

You: Did Berrien make all of this?

Berrien: Yes.

Berrien: Tea party with Master... I prepared treats for it.

Berrien: Sometimes... I want to please Master with some home-made cakes of mine too.

You: Thank you for the wonderful treats.

Berrien: Fufu... I appreciate your kind words, but there's no need to thank me.

Berrien: I just wanted Master to enjoy our tea party.

You: Still, thank you.

- I'll try the food made by Berrien.

Having said that, I... I tried Berrien's food. His treats were even tastier than they seemed... A smile couldn't help but spread across my face. When Berrien saw me like this... He laughed softly.

You: What is it, Berrien?

Berrien: No, it's nothing. But...

You: But..?

Berrien: My treats made Master smile... I am happy.

Berrien: Master is smiling... And the reason for that smile is me...

Berrien: I am so happy... It can't be helped.

Still looking at me... Berrien narrowed his eyes affectionately.

Berrien: And to be honest...

Berrien: I... I love Master's smile.

Berrien: But, Master who laughs...

Berrien: ...They are the cutest of all.

You: B-Berrien...

As he said that... Berrien continued to look at me with a calm expression. Because of of his smile, from which one can feel an enveloping kindness... My heart could not remain calm any longer.

Part 2.

- A little later-

After that, we continued drinking tea... The tea stand was also empty. Then Berrien stood up from his seat... He said, "At last, I have prepared a special dessert." He headed to the kitchen of the mansion.

*Step step*

Berrien: Master. Sorry for the wait.

Berrien: Since our tea party is coming to an end... I have brought a special dessert.

After saying that, Berrien carefully... Placed the dessert in the center of the table. And on the plate... There was a whole cake with fruits on top.

You: It looks delicious..!

Hearing my expression... Berrien sighed in relief and rubbed his chest.

Berrien: I'm glad... It seems like you liked it.

You: It is impossible for me not to like it.

Berrien: Thank you very much.

Berrien: Master always... Says kind words to me...

Berrien: You liked the cake immediately after seeing it... It's a special joy.

You: Is that so?

Berrien: Yes. But this cake...

Berrien: I made it based on my memories with Mr. Goetia.

You: Memories with Mr. Goetia?

Berrien: Yes.

When Berrien said that... There was a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

Berrien: Master already knows... When I was young...

Berrien: Mr Goetia... I was throwing a party for my father for his "wedding anniversary."

Berrien: One of the treats I made back then... Was a fruit cake.

Berrien: When Mr. Goetia's wife was still alive... As a couple, they ate cake for their anniversary...

Berrien: Remembering that situation... I made a cake for the celebration back then.

You: Is that so...

Berrien: Yes... They're just memories now.

Berrien: Unlike the cakes you can buy in Espoir today... I use buttercream instead of whipped cream...

Berrien: Because... I used to make them back then too.

Berrien: And now, looking at this cake...

Berrien: Since the day I was little... It really feels like a long time has passed.

You: Berrien...

Berrien looks at the cake with a somewhat lonely expression... When I called him, he laughed softly.

Berrien: That's why I...

Berrien: I was happy that you liked this cake from my memories.

Berrien: Memories of days long gone by and people I cherish now... They seem to be connected.

Berrien: This... It gave me a strange but warm feeling.

Berrien closed his eyes... He spoke to me gently.

Berrien: Master, this cake... Would you like to eat it with me?

Berrien: While enjoying delicious tea and cake... We will continue our tea party.

You: Of course, Berrien.

- Let's continue our tea party.

Berrien: Fufu... Thank you, Master.

Berrien: Then... Let me cut the cake.

Berrien sat on the chair and... With experienced hands, he cut the cake into equal pieces.

Berrien: Hmm... If you cut it like this, it will be large but equal pieces...

Berrien: That's right... Then, let's do it like this.

Berrien said it without hesitation... He handed me a plate with a large piece.

Berrien: Fufu... ♪ This way, Ms.Strawberry will be happy too.

You: B-Berrien...

Berrien: Oya..? What is it, master?

You: Even if Ms.Strawberry is happy...

- I can't take that much.

Berrien: Don't worry about me.

Berrien: This big and delicious-looking strawberry...I want Master to eat it.

Berrien: That's why...Here you go. ♪

Berrien speared the strawberry with his fork...And then he brought it to my mouth.

You: ...Eh?

Berrien: Master. Come on, open your mouth.

Berrien: Master is a kind person...So you won't shy away and will eat the strawberry, right?

Berrien: That's why...I'll use my own hands to make Master say "ah".

Berrien: That way...Master will definitely eat the strawberry...

Berrien: Then I'll be happy too.

You: Uh...

Seeing my confusion...Berrien moved even closer.

Berrien: Come on, Master...Don't be shy about enjoying it.

Berrien: Let's go, ah~m...♪

You: A-Am...

Unable to refuse happy Berrien... I opened my mouth wide.

Berrien: Fufu... Master, is it delicious?

You: Y-Yummy...

Berrien: I see... It's good.

Berrien: Such a big and red strawberry... I thought it should be delicious.

Berrien: That's why... I wanted Master to eat it.

You: Oh...

Seeing my embarrassment at being forced to eat the strawberry... Berrien laughed happily.

Berrien: Fufu... Maybe Mr.Goetia's wife felt that way too.

You: Mr. Goetia's wife..?

- Father's wife..?

Berrien: Yes.

Berrien: When I was young, Mr. Goetia...

Berrien: They were a married couple... I asked how they spent their "wedding anniversaries."

Berrien: At that time... Mr.Goetia's wife was feeding him strawberries from her hand... It was something like that.

Berrien: Saying that, father...

Berrien: "Why was my wife so happy at that time"... Father had a thoughtful expression.

Saying that, Berrien chuckled.

Berrien: I have never seen father's wife, but...

Berrien: Now... I understand her feelings very well.

Berrien: Because... Just now, I did something similar with Master...

Berrien: I was able to see cute Master eating strawberries from my hand.

Saying that, Berrien... He narrowed his eyes again as he looked at me.

Berrien: I love Master's smile...

Berrien: But Master's expression before... It was beautiful too.

You: B-Berrien...

Berrien looked at me with a dreamy look.

Berrien: That's why, Master...

Berrien: On the cake I made... There are also strawberries...

Berrien: Do you want more?

Berrien: If Master wants... I'll give you as many as you want.

Berrien's eyes looked like... he was having a happy dream. When he looked so happy, I couldn't refuse... I asked for another strawberry.

You: Can I ask for another one?

Berrien: Yes... As many as Master wants.

Berrien again... He brought the strawberry to my mouth. His smile looked happy. Moreover, it was warm.

You: ...I love Berrien's smile too.

Berrien: Uh...

His eyes widened in surprise... I put the strawberry in my mouth. As I savored the sweetness of the strawberry... Berrien's cheeks slowly turned red.

Berrien: Master...

Berrien: Fufu... I'm happy.

Berrien: I like Master's smile... If Master likes my smile too...

Berrien: As long as we're together, we'll always smile...

When Berrien said that... His expression softened. I was enchanted by his smile... My cheeks also turned slightly red.

[pkmn-lillie]

The slumbering Thing lies below Gotham, deep under the twisting caves and labyrinthine tunnels. It was borne from a curse, echoing backwards to the beginning of time. It was borne from love, the love of a people for their city, so powerful as to breathe life into It.

Janet Drake was infertile. No medical intervention could change that. But she wished, and prayed, and deep under her home, the sleeping Thing takes pity.

"I shall grant you a child, body of flesh and blood, soul and mind of mine. He will be a wonderful dream, waking and sleeping at once."

Janet knows that her miracle baby is strange, inhuman, but trying to grasp a specific memory of those nine months leaves her weary and aching. (Truly mortal flesh is not meant to hold a thing such as It, even a sliver, and it is a testament to her fortitude that she came out sane on the other side.)

Tim never sleeps. He naps, frequently and in the strangest places, but he never reaches deep sleep. He knows that he is the dream of something greater, the dozing Thing that exists under Its city. He fears that sleeping so deeply will rouse It from the dream permanently, and he will be forgotten as dreams tend to be.

(Tim has slept that deeply, before, due to being forced unconscious by head trauma or through chemical means. The Thing has yet to truly wake, letting Itself revel in its precious dream once more, but he always fears each slumber could be his last.)

(Tim is running out of ways to avoid the sleep study that Bruce seems intent on him getting, because the risk of a willful sleep is too great to ignore.)

An earthquake shakes Gotham to its core, revealing long-buried caverns and derelict catacombs. By pure chance, a chamber deep under the city becomes accessible from the Batcave. (Tim wants so desperately to trust his family with the truth, even just a whisper.)

Nightwing braves the new passage with cautious glee, the joy of discovery deep in his bones. Signal follows behind, pretending to lament his use as a walking flashlight, just as excited as his eldest brother. The Thing that slumbers deep below feels them coming, contains itself to a perceptible form so as not to break one of its treasured Birds.

"Nightwing. Report."

"Uh, there's something big down here. Really big. Pretty sure it's sleeping."

Tim shivers, sitting at his desk in his bedroom. The conversation passes through Its mind like sand, and his mortal brain can only catch so much.

"Elaborate."

"I... Signal, what do you see?"

"It's some Lovecraft bullshit down here, Batman. It's big, and it's definitely sleeping, but there's really no good way to define it otherwise. There is no word to describe the color I'm seeing right now, and I'm pretty sure that's not what Wing is seeing."

"Your eyes just slip right past it, trying to focus on it long enough to gauge its size gives me a migraine."

Tim's fingers still on his keyboard. For the first time in his life, the sleeping Thing feels dread. It— he— doesn't want to wake up, please let It sleep please please please—

"Come back now. I will contact Justice League Dark."

"... Yeah. Copy that. C'mon, Sig."

<br>

alright prose/drabble over i need to get the rest of my ideas out and then take a nap

when Batman holds a meeting to discuss it, Tim is the only one who suggests just leaving it be. he knows its sus but he's desperately hoping they'll listen.

JLD sets up a bunch of wards in the tunnel connecting it to the cave. Tim starts napping more and more, never actually looking rested, his hands shake, his body aches, his focus is shot. Bruce worries that the entity is hurting his son.

Tim holds steady, though, until one day Batman tempts fate and goes to poke the bear (with a JLD member supervising, of course.) Tim, working in the cave, collapses. He curls into fetal position and pleads, begs, sobs, for them to stop, "let me dream, please, i don't want to wake up, please"

dealer's choice of whether Bruce keeps going (interpreting it as pulling a parasite out of his son) or listens to Tim and stops.

On one hand, the delicious angst of hurting his son by trying to help him, possibly killing the son that he knows. One of his other sons demands that he stop, something is wrong, but Bruce is too stubborn to let this beast sleep below his city unchecked, trying to contain it in its chamber. Tim realising that he can never trust Bruce with the truth, if he survives this.

On the other hand, fluff and emotional angst! The bats learn why Tim is just Like That, maybe they set up something so Tim doesn't have to worry about the entity waking up every time he gets knocked out, the proximity to his true 'body' makes Tim's human form a little more spooky and strange, the world is your oyster!

Short DPXDC Prompts #749

Tim Drake isn’t human, he knows that and is comfortable in his skin. This strange ghost boy very obviously isn’t comfortable in his ghost form around humans. He will help change that.

[candyswirls]

This is actually a sort of two part ask, but if you dont do those its fine. Clonegrim reuniting with Lion and Gulliman, and then Clonegrim meeting the Sons of the Phoenix for some nice bondng time (Sons of Dorn my ass, Cawl.)

I actually have story on this in the works :3 it’s just not ready yet

BUT ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE

His hair was a mess, grime and dried viscera covered him, he wore a a tattered mess of random imperial rags and a Necron style tunic.

His eyes had dark bags under them and they looked tired. It there was a look saying “I can fight and will if I must.”

Guilliman had prepared various speeches and replies to say when he saw Fulgrim. But this version? He looked younger. Had it not been for the determination in him, he would have called it pathetic

Fulgrim tried to stand tall, balancing on the spear he had.

“Roboute Guilliman,” he spoke, trying not to let his voice falter. “I am a clone of your brother, Fulgrim. I have most of his memories… before corruption. I do not know why I was made. But I am not corrupted by chaos or the warp. I will be… better than the first. He… disgusts me. I hate him. I hate what he’s become… and I hate what he stands for. I am against him. I am still loyal to the imperium and Father. I have escaped from Necron clutches and fought tooth and nail to… get here. I am still… a Primarch. I can fight… I can be useful… I am on your side… and I am…”

The clone collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily, tears pricked his eyes.

“You are exhausted,” Was the only thing Guilliman could say.

The clone looked up at him with disdain and snapped, “Of course I am! I… golden throne… I just crossed half… the galaxy! Everyone trying.. to kill me! Wouldn’t listen! I… please let it be over… Roboute… brother… please… I’m good. I swear I am. I won’t betray you. Not like him… I want to do right… I want to see father again… I just…”

There were so many things he wanted to say. To yell at him… but this wasn’t the original. This was a clone. He even looked young.

Guilliman knelt and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I do not fully trust you. I can’t. But you can rest now. You’re in my custody now.”

Fulgrim let out a sigh of relief as he collapsed forward, caught in his brother’s arms.

Their reunion was brief. Guilliman led the Lion down towards the stratagium deck.

“A clone?” He questioned. “And you trust this?”

Guilliman nodded, “We’ve been able to bond. He acts like a teenager with his age, but he’s saved my life. He is loyal. He is more like Fulgrim than the original. He will be pleased to see you.”

The door opened as they walked in.

“Are you sure?” Lion asked.

Before Guilliman could answer a voice called out, “Lion!”

Lion froze as a slightly shorter version of the third Primarch practically leapt into his arms.

He was stunned for a moment before speaking, “Fulgrim? Fulgrim!”

Excitement overwhelmed his suspicions. He hugged his brother and lifted him into the air.

“You look younger,” he laughed.

Fulgrim smiled back, “And you brother look older.”

Guilliman chuckled, “What a relief this is. I have two of my brothers back.”

All three embraced.

“I will warn you,” Calgar said. “They were most upset when they learned of who their geneseed really belonged to. Some are still in denial and insist they are sons of Dorn. Granted this was before you came back.”

Guilliman placed a hand on Fulgrim’s shoulder, “They will love you.”

The clone sighed, “I certainly hope so.”

As they exited the Thunderhawk rows of Purple, white, and Gold armor stood in neat succession. Those without helmets had pale blonde, white, or silver hair. Eyes were down shade of purple or a close blue.

Fiery imperial defiance danced in their eyes.

Fulgrim stepped forward and scanned over them.

He smiled, “You are all a sight for sore eyes. Many of you already remind me of the loyal sons of the imperium during the heresy. I am not Dorn, nor am I the original Fulgrim. But I swear unto you that I aim to rectify the originals mistakes. To be better. Now please, show me your ways and customs of your chapter. I am not here to destroy it or make you a carbon copy of the third legion. You are already better.”

Shocked expressions crossed the sons of the Phoenix’s. Yet slowly, they approached their Primarch out of curiosity and the longing for their father.

He slowly rested his hands on the shoulders of his sons as they introduced themselves.

Guilliman sighed with relief.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Some villains are all your unspoken sins personified.

The sins you didn’t commit out of fear and better knowing, the sins you regret thinking about,

the sins that scare you.

The late night thoughts you fear, the fits of rage you’ve learnt to contain.

The words you never speak out loud, the things you could be but actively chose not to become.

You fear that part of you, and you’re aware.

That villain is you, what you could have been. You fear that thought… you’re frightened, but also curious. What does that say about you? Does it mean anything? Is that yet another part of you that should be feared, the curiosity?

The genuine interest, the questioning? The wonder?

You tell yourself you never want to find out what kind of person you could be, but is that true? Is it fear or excitement keeping you up at night? The voices in the back of your head when that one person did you wrong… are they truthful, are they right, are they wrong, are they even there?

Is this you? The madness hidden within, is that more you than the person you are now? Is it somebody else whispering these things to you, telling you to do things?

Does it matter? The real question is, are you going to answer?

Are you going to do it? Or is it safer to pretend that part of you never existed and never will?

The villains… are they to fear? To blame? Take a look at yourself, and answer honestly: the things you did and the things you never did, what do they make you?

And now, the villain… an active choice or a scream for help? Would you do the same they did? No, would you? If there was no control?

What do you know about the madness within and the thoughts before and behind the actions? What do you know about the motive and the great scheme of it all?

Who knows what you’re capable of?

Who knows if you’re the right person to come with such statements, blaming others… who are you to blame them? Who are you to blame?

Who knows? How would they know? Don’t let them find out. Take that as you will.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

Maedhros built up a high pain resistance from Angband; particularly to the burning sensation. Considering how low he thinks of himself, it’s likely he expected the Silmaril to burn him. He didn’t think he was redemptive, he thought I can take it.

Part of why Maedhros acts so viciously is because that’s how life treated him. I can take it if my brothers die. I can take it if I’m damned for eternity. I can take it if everybody thinks I’m a monster.

He’s proud, and he’s suffering. He won’t back down, he will succeed or be martyred.

[foxgloveinspace]

People jumping ship cause of the new masks is very ahhhh. Telling. Tbh.

[nixie-deangel]

Hi. I've never done this before, but I've been eagerly reading everything since weekend started.

So if it's okey for me to ask I would love to request 💔💔🔥🔥🔥🥹🥹 ( hope it's not to much. I'm totally hooked on all of them but writing down every single emoji felt a bit crazy 😅)

🥰🥰🥰🥰 Please know I am bestowing the gentlest kiss to your temple and giving you the biggest hug! It is absolutely okay! (and I won't be mad if you wanna send in more or others asks for my stories!) 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

💔 icemav break up / icedad

this is directly continuing from this ask!

“No! Of course not! But come on, Ice, you have to see-” “I don’t have to see shit,” Tom explodes, cutting Mav off before he can start trying to justify his, and Carole’s as well most likely, actions. “You hurt him. Do you get that? Does she get that? Bradley is here. He is living and breathing and you both are hurting him.” Scoffing, Mav rolled his eyes as Tom continued on. “Do you have any idea what your actions almost did? You both almost drove him away! I’ve had to stop Bradley from running off to do it all on his own three, three goddamn times! And I’m the only one who’s shown him even an ounce of support, Pete, and he still keeps trying to run off and do it all on his own because he thinks he can’t trust me!”

🔥 virgin jake - hangster

“You confused me,” Bradley blurts out. “You confused me and enticed me and I didn’t know what I was feeling. What I was meant to be feeling the first time I laid eyes upon you.” Snapping his mouth shut, he turns his gaze away from Jake to stare down at the floor. Scoffing, Jake huffs at his half thought out explanation. But before he could open his mouth to call him on it, Bradley continued on. “I was raised knowing I would have a courtesan. I knew what that all entailed,” he powered on. “But then…but then I saw you. I saw who would be mine and I lost my damn mind. I know I did. I broke tradition because I could not bear the thought of anyone but me guarding you until you were officially mine.” Jake flinched back, eyes going wide in surprise as he stared at Bradley. “What? What do you mean broke tradition"?”

🥺 chap2 of helper - a/b/o hangster

“Sweetheart, come here,” the voice calls, soft and soothing and like a balm to the raw nerve Jake’s worked himself up into being. “That’s right baby, I got you, okay? Just listen to me, okay, Jake?” He thinks he nods or maybe he mumbles out a yes or noise of agreement. He’s not sure, not really but what he does know is that suddenly he’s not pressed against the cold unyielding side of his tub or bathroom floor. Suddenly he’s pressed against warmth.  Wrapped up in it really. In warmth and love and feeling like he’s once again tethered to something. But that can’t be right, Jake thinks, because he’s not supposed to be wrapped up in warmth and love.  Because he doesn’t deserve that after what he did to Bradley.

Make Nixie Write This Weekend!

[ratatatastic]

"When you guys are playing and, like, we all got podcasts and there are big podcasts out there, you know, are going from series to series, and they're critiquing teams and what not—like, at the end, do you know who's chirping you? Do you pay attention to that shit? Do you know who's on your side? Do you know who's, you know, rooting against you? Do you guys pay attention to that kind-of stuff? I'm just curious." "Yeah, I think this might be the first podcast I've ever done—I'm not the biggest fan of podcasts to be honest. I think—I'm friends with that, you know, [Shane] O'Brien, and [Scottie] Upshall (2 out of the 3 cohosts of the Missin' Curfew podcast), I love those guys... so if they ask I would do it but... again they, I think—I think negativity flows through media so much that it just kind-of disgusts me and I want nothing to do with it to be honest. So I hate the negativity, I think it's crazy, I think negativity in media steers guys away from certain teams... it's like, 'Why do you want that?' right? So I don't know, I'm a huge fan of the positivity, finding the positives in players and not putting guys down especially in podcasts and stuff like that where it should be for the players, right? It should be a positive thing, something that we rally around. Especially as ex-players!" "Yeah! We're gonna pump your tires!" "That's it!" "Well, you still gotta be real though!" "No, I know!" "You know if you have a bad game—" "It's gotta be real! For sure!" "—You gotta be real! You can't fake out your audience either so it's still a business." "One hundred percent! One hundred percent, one hundred percent... and I get that but—Yeah, I mean, I saw all those Spittin' Chiclets guys all over Edmonton's bandwagon so..." "That really bothered you guys, eh? Like, I mean, you guys were paying attention to that. I mean, as evidence as well on what took place on the ice after the game... you guys weren't, like, fucking around, you were being serious, right? You guys—that really bothered you guys?" "Hundred percent." "What was it? Like, the most that bothered you about it? Just the fact that, 'Hey, you guys are rooting for them... why are you trying to celebrate with us?' I mean, was it—is it that simple?" "Exactly. Yeah, get the f—we won, get off... right? Get out of here. That's uh, yeah. I don't know, I don't want to be too controversial or anything like that. I'm a happy guy, I like everybody so... whatever." "They're all good dudes, man. Listen if they're into hockey and they're talking about hockey thats a positive one way or the other!" "Oh, they're growing the game! They're growing the game! Huge! And they're doing a great job and I've spoke with Biz [Paul Bissonnette] a few times and I know Whit [Ryan Whitney] (Cohosts of Spittin' Chiclets) and I've got no issues with any of 'em. Truly."

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

[terry-the-insane]

Me tormenting the captive borrower with infodump rants

[normalmcguy]

I AM PLURAL I AM FRIENDLY I AM APPROACHABLE YOU CAN DM ME THAT'S WHAT THIS POST IS ABOUT. I AM BEFRIENDABLE, TRY IT

HELLO HELLO my name is Normal Guy because i don't care to publicly go by my source name and i kind of just didn't care to find a real name to replace that original placeholder, you can also call me Norm or Marty being that they're both short for Normal Guy.* pronouns wise, you can call me he or like if you really want it or they or actually pretty much whatever, mostly just that he/him stuff

i'm one of like 5 current hosts in my system and i'm like woah i just checked it turns out on this day i've turned 100 days old in this system that's actually crazy to me. i mean woah. anyways i'm a factive of an old old friend's fictive** which means i have a connection to a source we know like nothing about except what we learned through osmosis back when we were friends and so basically i picked up a lot of what is probably just some sect of fanon

i'm a HUGE bike guy like that's my main hobby i have to bike like every single time i front type thing, that's gonna be like. my 'get to know me' fact for this intro post. i have an E-bike that i love more than anything in this world it has a name you can dm me and ask. i say this both to create mystery and allure about myself and to provide an adequate conversation starter. because i'm so nice and all that.

i do my best not to get into discourse of most types, but real quick i wanna make it clear that i believe in and support endogenic systems and don't care to debate on that. in case that's something that would prevent you from reaching out or whatever, feel like i oughta make that one clear

*i'm sorry that bit's a lie, Marty is not actually short for normal guy. if you didnt know.

**i have the source in the tags i'm not putting that shit out in the open because it's like a whooole complex thing for me (i mean i have a good few friends outside of the system and literally not a single one knows my source. i have genuinely only ever shared my source with people within this system so you're gonna have to work (open the tags and read like 2 more lines of yapping) to see that one) also i'm not that connected to begin with just basic pseudomemories

[the-busy-ghost]

Alright uninformed rant time. It kind of bugs me that, when studying the Middle Ages, specifically in western Europe, it doesn’t seem to be a pre-requisite that you have to take some kind of “Basics of Mediaeval Catholic Doctrine in Everyday Practise” class. 

Obviously you can’t cover everything- we don’t necessarily need to understand the ins and outs of obscure theological arguments (just as your average mediaeval churchgoer probably didn’t need to), or the inner workings of the Great Schism(s), nor how apparently simple theological disputes could be influenced by political and social factors, and of course the Official Line From The Vatican has changed over the centuries (which is why I’ve seen even modern Catholics getting mixed up about something that happened eight centuries ago). And naturally there are going to be misconceptions no matter how much you try to clarify things for people, and regional/class/temporal variations on how people’s actual everyday beliefs were influenced by the church’s rules. 

But it would help if historians studying the Middle Ages, especially western Christendom, were all given a broadly similar training in a) what the official doctrine was at various points on certain important issues and b) how this might translate to what the average layman believed. Because it feels like you’re supposed to pick that up as you go along and even where there are books on the subject they’re not always entirely reliable either (for example, people citing books about how things worked specifically in England to apply to the whole of Europe) and you can’t ask a book a question if you’re confused about any particular point. 

I mean I don’t expect to be spoonfed but somehow I don’t think that I’m supposed to accumulate a half-assed religious education from, say, a 15th century nobleman who was probably more interested in translating chivalric romances and rebelling against the Crown than religion; an angry 16th century Protestant; a 12th century nun from some forgotten valley in the Alps; some footnotes spread out over half a dozen modern political histories of Scotland; and an episode of ‘In Our Time’ from 2009. 

But equally if you’re not a specialist in church history or theology, I’m not sure that it’s necessary to probe the murky depths of every minor theological point ever, and once you’ve started where does it end? 

Anyway this entirely uninformed rant brought to you by my encounter with a sixteenth century bishop who was supposedly writing a completely orthodox book to re-evangelise his flock and tempt them away from Protestantism, but who described the baptismal rite in a way that sounds decidedly sketchy, if not heretical. And rather than being able to engage with the text properly and get what I needed from it, I was instead left sitting there like:

And frankly I didn’t have the time to go down the rabbit hole that would inevitably open up if I tried to find out

[2aceofspades]

Don't you tee hee at us how daaarrreee! "No warning sign" is right, how daaaare yooouuu!!! Villain!Ace really knows how to pull at my void heartstrings D:

Don't ever stop tho omgggggg

~-- --- .-. ... . / .- -. --- -.

-- --- .-. ... ./.- -. --- -. -.-.-- -.-.--

Upon ~further~ analysis...mm...yeah...

I do in fact feel remorse for my heinous crimes. Like, goodness gracious...

This is really...um...messed up.

That didn't stop me from drawing more though, so...