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hachiibun · 1 year

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❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

I'm honoured to have collaborated with the incredible @onetrickponi to celebrate a certain gravity-manipulating shorty's birthday! This has been in the works for a while now, and we're both really excited to finally share this with everyone!

Without further ado, we'd like to present Vigil.

— ♠ —

“I’ve always wanted to die in a church.”

Beside him, Chuuya snorts. “I thought you wanted to die in the Ooka.”

Dazai wrinkles his nose. “Not since it became a tourist trap,” he replies. “That wouldn’t be a peaceful death at all.”

“The amount of thought you’ve put into this disturbs me,” says Chuuya, his own nose creasing. His, however, is due to a low seated, buzzing itch along the bridge of his sinuses that has been lingering since breakfast.

Chuuya won’t give it the satisfaction of culminating into a sneeze, however; instead choosing to quash the soft tingle into oblivion with the sheer force of his willpower alone. Anything else would be unacceptable.

(—as well as fucking candy to the idiot next to him, if Dazai ever gets wind of…whatever this is.)

Chuuya swallows against a spark of itch that ignites in his nose and grits his teeth. When he thinks he can speak steadily he points to the pews with a gloved hand. “Find the flash drive,” he orders. “We’ve got a window of thirty minutes at—the fuck are you looking at, shithead?”

Dazai cocks his head to the side, blinks, and answers with, “Just admiring your striking resemblance to a cherub in this light.” It’s smooth and practiced, like most of Dazai’s bullshittery.

“Why, you–” Chuuya cuts himself off and exhales slowly through his nose. He tries not to wince at the slight whistling sound it makes. With a sharp sniff he stalks off to the sanctuary and begins sifting through the drawers there. Dazai scurries off to the apse with an excited noise, muttering something about how angelic his corpse would look strung up along the mosaics.

Chuuya’s nose gives a foreboding quiver.

It isn’t like Dazai hasn’t ever heard him sneeze, or vice versa. They’ve been working together too long for that. They’ve seen each other express every bodily function possible to man (in addition to the ones that aren’t).

And Chuuya might have even been okay with his current predicament, had it not been for a quip Dazai made last week about Chuuya being a “weakling.” It had stung because Dazai, whose lack of self care is, frankly, appalling, can operate seemingly unbothered by even the most serious neglects of basic needs. Chuuya’s seen him run at peak wit on days of sleeping ninety minutes a night, seen his hair and skin glow on a diet of crab cakes and sake…while on the other hand Chuuya’s the one with the—

Don’t say it. As if ignoring the problem will make it go away. It hasn’t worked with Dazai, so Chuuya is a fool to think it will work with his increasingly sensitive airways.

Chuuya rifles through some bibles, sparing a glance or two at Dazai before deeming it okay to swallow a couple of sneezes and throat clears into his sleeve. He’s perfected the silent stifle over time, which is a feat in and of itself since Chuuya tends to sneeze harshly, loudly, and in multiples. Perhaps the intensity is Corruption at work, but regardless, Chuuya enjoys scaring the living daylights out of people. Usually.

The flash drive is proving to be elusive. The Port needs it, badly, if they have any chance of winning over the west side gangs of the Pier. Chuuya jams a gloved knuckle against the side of his nose as he hitches, squints, and glares at the church pews like they personally offend him.

“Oi, Chuuya,” Dazai whisper-calls from somewhere behind a cupboard. “I think someone’s coming. You find it?”

“No,” Chuuya snaps. The dust of old, flaky books is making his already irritated nose twitch. He shakes his head and the tickle abates. Cocking his head he realizes that Dazai is right; the sound of slow footfalls is getting closer to the vestibule. “Shit.”

Dazai scurries lightly over to where Chuuya is glowering at nothing in particular, and takes him by the arm. “There’s a little den area over there,” he nods to a veiled corner, “where we can stay hidden until whoever it is leaves,” he says.

“Or we can just come back in the morning,” replies Chuuya, snatching his arm away.

“Mori-sama will be disappoinnnteddd,” Dazai sing-songs. Dammit. He knows how to hit Chuuya where it hurts and they both know it.

Chuuya sighs. “Fine.” He stalks over to the den and crouches in the darkness with Dazai just as the cathedral doors swing open. The gibbous moon twinkles through the stained glass windows enough for the two of them to make out one of the western gang’s right hands.

Dazai crouches low and squints through the shadows. “Maybe he’ll show us where the drive is,” he whispers.

“Shut up, slug.”

Dazai holds up his bandaged hands in a familiar, placating gesture. They watch the guy glide down the stone nave, rummage around some boxes along the altar’s steps, sift through a stack of papers, and make himself comfortable on a nearby cushion.

Well, there goes Chuuya’s hopes of a night in. And now with Dazai sitting so close, he’s bound to find out Chuuya isn’t in as good of shape as he claims. Chuuya’s not going to waste all of his energy hiding it, but he’s also not ready to be discovered because he couldn’t keep his damn nose under control.

He’d never hear the end of it from Dazai.

So when he feels a trickle of damp at the edges of his nostrils he takes a slow breath in and times a much-needed sniffle with their visitor’s dropping of a folder. Dazai shoots him a curious, but unsurprised glance, which Chuuya pointedly ignores.

The sneeze teasing the swollen membranes of his sinuses, however, is much harder to ignore. Chuuya knows he can stifle it, but he also knows that doing so won’t exactly solve the problem. The irritation needs somewhere to go, or it’ll just build fruitlessly until he lets them out proper.

He breathes carefully, making sure to hitch silently as he bunches up a handful of fabric from his jacket. Chuuya ducks his head in preparation for the sneeze (or sneezes, if this is indeed a…cold).

Dazai raises an eyebrow as he watches Chuuya curl into himself and shiver with two inaudible stifles. When Chuuya uncurls Dazai can see the bleary, hazy look of someone who still has desperately to sneeze but is trying very hard not to.

“Can you stop, Chibi?” whispers Dazai. Chuuya shoots him a look that is equal parts furious and embarrassed. It’s adorable. But…

“Frankly, I’d rather not get caught because you couldn’t tame your little nose there,” Dazai continues. “Are you suuure you’re good?”

Chuuya gives a curt nod. Which should be reassuring, but Dazai’s smile falters because this is actually very bad. He recognizes the lack of quip, even while hiding like this, means that Chuuya does not trust himself enough to speak. He’s seen it before.

Dazai flicks an errant strand of hair out of his eyes and sighs. “Maybe we really will die in a church, if you keep this up.”

Chuuya’s returning grin is feral. “Y-you wish.” No way in hell will he allow Dazai the satisfaction. The carpets blanketing the enclosed den mean that they can whisper without much of an echo. It’s a small relief, since Chuuya can feel the congestion crawling and pattering away in a far back place of his nose, dormant but threatening.

He focuses on how intently Dazai is eyeing him, knowing well what Dazai isn’t saying. Engaging would be easy, but it would be messy and they’re supposed to be currying favor with the west side gangs, not killing them (or in Dazai’s case, very emphatically bonking them on the head).

Chuuya’s right eye waters with the sharpness of the tickle, as the itchiness swells and becomes decidedly less dormant. He bites his lip. If this keeps up his nose is going to turn into fucking Krakatoa.

Dazai watches Chuuya massage his flaring nostrils through the fabric of his gloves and grins with as many teeth as he can muster. Chuuya’s losing battle with his nose is even more hilarious than the fact that he’s currently sitting on a pile of Communion pamphlets.

It won’t be long now, what with the way Chuuya has gone stiff and rigid. Dazai counts backwards from five in his head. He gets to two before Chuuya’s lip trembles as the itch erupts and overwhelms him.

“Gnt!” Chuuya’s able to pinch that one into submission, though it makes his head throb and the pulsating trickle along his nose intensify with unsatisfied need. “Gnt! Nt! H’Gnt!”

He starts to lower his hand, before—“Gnt!” Jesus fuck, can’t he be done?

The answer is no, apparently, because Chuuya feels his eyes begin to flutter shut and his chest start to jump with silent, building hitches.

Before he can sneeze again, however, he feels a tap on his shoulder. It successfully distracts him from the budding sneeze as Chuuya whips his head around to stare at Dazai’s familiar, shit-eating grin.

Dazai uses the finger he’d tapped Chuuya with to beckon. “C’mere.”

Chuuya sniffs carefully and squints. “Why?”

Rolling his eyes, Dazai grabs him (gently, Chuuya notices, which okay, is a little odd) and smashes his face into his long overcoat (a little less gently).

“Mnflgl?” Chuuya questions.

“Sneeze, Chuuya,” Dazai orders. Chuuya tries to shake his head because one, Dazai’s forgetting how harsh his sneezes are—sure to give them away, and two, Chuuya might hate the guy but he’s not going to sneeze on him.

Dazai seems to read his mind. “The fabric will muffle the sound,” he replies. “And you’ll pay for my dry cleaning.” Chuuya can hear his smirk. Asshole.

But he also wants very badly to sneeze. No; at this point he’s desperate to sneeze. His nose feels like one of his gravity bombs, pulsing, thrumming, and the itch is all consuming. It would feel so good to just let a few out. He really shouldn’t.

“I know you need to,” whispers Dazai.

So, against all logic, Chuuya does.

“Hep-MPPH! MPPHT! H’MPPH!” Somehow, the fabric dampens the sound better than Chuuya thought it would. So he decides he can sneeze a little more.

“Hh…hh…MPPHT! PHT! MPPHT! Hp!…H-Hep-MPPHH!”

He’s beginning to feel dizzy. It’s worth it, though, as the stuffy, spider-crawling prickle along his nose subsides for the time being. God, he’s never had to sneeze so badly in his life. Makes sense it’s now, when he needs to be quiet.

And Dazai—the utter prick—is patting his head, like Chuuya’s some sort of mutt. “You’re a mess, you know that?” he’s saying, fondly, as Chuuya shakes with sneeze after sneeze. It’s a wonder the gang’s right hand hasn’t discovered them yet.

Slowly, Chuuya comes up for air. He thanks some leviathan god that it’s dark, so he doesn’t have to look at what he’s done to Dazai’s coat. He’s not even going to look at Dazai, because this is probably one of the most humiliating things to happen to him in…well, not as long as Chuuya’d like to admit. This is Dazai, after all.

“Bless you,” Dazai says quietly. Chuuya’s head snaps to him because Dazai sounds wrong. Odd. Genuine. Ah, that’s why it took so long to place. Dazai rarely does sincere, and the few times he expresses genuine emotions tend to signify nothing good at all.

“Thank you,” Chuuya mutters between a clenched jaw because he may have made a mess of himself but he still has manners, goddammit. He blinks the remaining wetness from his eyes as he peers at Dazai for a suspended moment.

“Oh, and if you’re curious, the guy left five minutes ago.”

And the moment is over.

Chuuya jumps up. “You utter assho-ho–” He’s cut off by the familiar needling sensation at the back of his nose. Oh no you don’t. Jamming a fist under his septum hard enough to bruise, he points a finger at Dazai.

“I despise you,” he hisses. “All thihh…th…hih…”

Dazai holds a hand to his ear. “What was that?”

Chuuya shakes his head with a tickly sniff in hopes that his nose will make up its mind and move from where it’s currently settled—in the burning, stinging place between sneeze and not sneeze that’s driving him even more up the wall than Dazai is.

Dazai cocks his head at just the right angle that a piece of hair falls into his eyes. “That sneeze looks troublesome,” he observes. “Is it stuck? Like Chuuya’s growth spurt?”

Chuuya growls and kicks a nearby chair leg for good measure, now that they don’t have to concern themselves with being quiet. The sound is hollow and echoes across the large cathedral chamber.

There’s a wrinkled, damp spot on one side of Dazai’s overcoat that Chuuya pointedly avoids looking at. The crazy bastard had let him do that, all for, what? Funsies? To torture him? Chuuya will unpack that for later. It never bodes well to try to make sense of Dazai’s brain. Besides, the much-needed sneeze is still eluding him. If he could just–just…

“Hih…Hept! Hh…Fuck! Shit!”

Dazai sighs. “Okay, I can’t watch this,” he says, striding over to Chuuya. “Stay still, Chibi.”

Chuuya glares at him, irritation evident in his eyes and in his raw, wide-blown nostrils. “If you’re doi’g anythi’g other thad helpi’g, Dazai, I will obliterate you,” he says darkly, throat crackling and sore.

Dazai grins wide. “Relax,” he says. He wiggles a finger. “I know Chuuya’s sneeze spot.”

“What the fuck even is a—” Dazai presses a finger to the bridge of Chuuya’s nose, in the center, and gives it a circular rub back and forth. Chuuya stumbles back and manages a wavering, shaky curse in French before he snaps forward with a fusillade of unrestrained sneezes.

“Hih-ASHHHu! Hep’ASHHU! AHSSHU! AHSSH! AHSSHH! AHSSHU! Merde!…Heh-heh…hih’ASHHU!”

Chuuya sneezes and sneezes, for once uncaring about decorum. It’s a miracle his hat doesn’t fly off. He’s so overcome with finally scratching the itch in his nose that he almost doesn’t feel the tap at his shoulder. Dazai’s extending a packet of tissues that look like they were newly purchased.

“Goodness! I don’t know whether to bless Chuuya or call an exorcist,” he remarks.

“Shut up,” Chuuya mutters around a tissue. With that annoyance out of the way, it’s seeping in just how awful he feels. He sighs, heavy, and rubs at a temple. “Nom de dieu…”

“I really don’t know how someone so little can sneeze with such ferocity,” continues Dazai, ignoring Chuuya. It’s easy to say the man was put on this earth for the sole purpose of making Chuuya’s life miserable. “Hih…ASHHU!” Chuuya’s head gives a throb and things slide out of focus for a minute. He coughs, rough, and pushes some sweaty hair away from his face. How unsightly.

“Oh, and Chuuya?” Dazai makes a burlesque of leaning in and peering at him. “The next time you’re sick, call in, okay?” And then he reaches one lanky arm over and pats Chuuya’s head.

“I never said I was sick,” Chuuya snaps, jerking out of reach. Dazai makes to poke his nose again, but Chuuya evades him with a hoarse snarl. “Stop.”

In response, Dazai gives him a condescending look that Chuuya knows well. It’s the one where he purses his lips and crinkles up his large, dark eyes. The one he knows infuriates Chuuya the most. “Please,” he says, waving a hand. “I knew before we even got here. Just wanted to see how long you could keep it up.”

Chuuya opens his mouth to utter some expletive, he doesn’t know which one yet, but the sneezy feeling decides to return—bristling like a thousand tiny whiskers along the rims of his inner nose. Stifling it to refute Dazai’s point will only make his head pound harder, so Chuuya wrenches to the side with a sneeze. Which, naturally, makes him cough.

“Hmmm, you really don’t sound good, Chuuya.”

“Fuck you.”

Dazai makes a face. “Ew, no thanks. But since you’re already paying for my dry cleaning, why don’t I treat you to a nice bowl of leek soup and tea?”

Dazai is so confusing at times Chuuya could strangle him. Or at least blame him for the acute emotional whiplash.

“Hh’ASSHu! AHSSH! J'en peux plus…” Chuuya twitches his nose to the side and straightens his hat. “Whatever—let’s just find that drive and get the hell out of here so I can go to bed,” he grumbles. It’s not exactly a refusal (because tea does in fact sound nice), but Chuuya is more than done with this place.

“You mean this?” Dazai wiggles a little USB between two bandaged fingers. Chuuya sputters. “Yup. Found it ages ago and switched it with a fake.”

“AAH?!”

— Fin —

#snz #snz kink #hachiisnzart #ch/uuy/a n/akahar/a #b/ungo st/ray d/ogs #o/sam/u d/az/ai #hachiibunart #ppls fics #onetrickponi #my GOODNESS poni your writing #give all the thanks to poni for the wonderful fic and patience waiting for me to finish #seeing all the ppl into b/s/d nowadays is so lovely #i'm still v much into the series and especially this angry shorty #hopefully it shows in my part >;)

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infin1ty-garden · 3 months

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helooo! If you don't mind, can u write a fic about Zoya Nazyalensky close proximity trope? Like instead of one bed, can u please make it one tent? Thank u!!!

NOW OR NEVER

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ summary: [ in request ] ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ pairing: zoya nazyalensky x gn! reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ warnings: none ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ word count: 344 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ author note: takes place sometime before s1

masterlist.

How could have this happened? You and Zoya were sent on a mission to gather intel of the enemy forces with only one tent. You were aware there was a shortage of supplies but is two tents really too much. It seems so. Zoya didn't see it as a big problem.

"Do you find me that appalling?" Quite the opposite, you were in love with her. Just being around her made you nervous. She is a fierce and uptight woman. She was a great leader and a talented grisha. It was taught not to feel some sort of nervousness.

The mission is going to last two days with a switch, if needed, every four hours. You and Zoya were friends, not close but friends. "Looking forward to something when we get back?"

"A hot bath and a nice meal," a common reply for someone on the front lines. You finally managed to get the intel needed and evacuated immediately. Finding a safe enough place on enemy territory was hard enough but you managed.

You and Zoya were laying in your sleeping bags. Trying to sleep. A few days of this and you're still not used to it. The tent was small enough to carry, so there was little space. You felt the warmth radiating from her body. She tossed around. Obviously not being able to sleep.

"What's on your mind?" You finally asked. She turned to face you. "When are you gonna admit you're in love with me?" You were speechless. Were you that obvious? Silence filled the tent. "Was I that bad?"

"I honestly found it cute," a small smile found itself on her face. "Endearing even," your face heats up. You feel your heartbeat speed up. "To be honest I was confused at first but then this mission finally made me understand. Your feelings and my won"

"Your own?" There's no way, she was saying what you think she was saying. "I'm in love with you as well," you were perplexed but knew one thing. It's now or never. You kissed her.

Thank you for reading and requesting!

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shrublub · 1 year

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i gotta focus i’m shifting into grishaverse mode

#have no idea where this show’s headed and at this point i’m too afraid to ask #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #s&b #six of crows #soc #grishaverse #zoya nazyalensky #inej ghafa #leigh bardugo #my art #fanart #artists on tumblr #wanted to draw jesper but the trailer was so damn dim for a reference #n i always get exhausted after drawing just two ppl elolel #maybe soon

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taichi-x-koushiro · 15 days

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Digimon Adventure ~ Koushiro{u} Izumi x Taichi Yagami {KOUTAI} / {Taishiro[u]} / {TaiKou}

"In Paris I spent my first night in Montmartre. In all those nightclubs where now everyone is my friend I went from discovery to discovery. Everywhere I encountered the same warm, smiling welcome, the same excellent champagne…everywhere my cap, my light beige suit, and my suede shoes made a sensation." "Panama" Al Brown {x} {Queer History}

Digimon Adventure 25th Anniversary Pop-Up Shop {x} "DIGIGIFT" Official Calender/Wallpaper {x} (Note: Full version of latter contains #TheBeginningSpoilers for Taichi's full design, and a potential aftermath or in-between for the film!)

(Anyway, I need an A.U. like this where Taichi runs into +French-speaking Koushiro in France, {in Tri: Saikai, Koushiro is canonically attempting learning some French, and as the cap above shows, takes Koushiro's parents to a fancy French restaurant - it is also heavily implied it's Koushiro paying for their meal, as well as helping them order} and Taichi's "beige suit" and shoes "make a sensation" for someone we all Know...)

Fan Edit by @izzyizumi / koushirouizumi {Do Not Copy} {Do Not Remove Caption} {Do Not Re-post} {Do Not Reproduce My Works Under Any Circumstances}

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fandomfairyuniverse · 6 months

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No because nick and sand completely shattered Boston and ray’s perception of how they can be loved and love in return and eye-

I need a minute

#I need many minutes actually #I am in shambles #they broke me this show broke #me #they made me emotional over BOSTON #B O S T O N #HOW DID THEY DO THAT #only friends #only friends the series

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softsnzstuff · 11 months

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steddie (eddie snzer) w 💊(nasal spray) + maybe 🤒!!

(not me forgetting this is where i drop these💀)

I LOVE this combo!! 💊Nasal spray and 🤒Cold in Disguise. Wowowow!!! Please enjoy this little drabble for the Radio Show AU Bc I miss it. ~KB

*****

After spending five days a week together at the most ungodly of hours, it’s frankly a miracle that on the off days they still want to hang out.

Today in particular it’s a Sunday afternoons and the entire gang is out for a picnic. They even managed to get Jonathan and Chrissy to join too!

They’d all brought an assortment of fruit, crackers, and champagne, Al spread out on a huge blanket that was Jonathan’s mom’s.

For probably the tenth time this morning, Eddie turns away from the group, sprawled out on the blanket.

“H’xxT! N’xT!! X’tCHiew!!”

“Bless you!” Jonathan offered a napkin, which Eddie took with gratitude.

The long haired man tented the napkin over his nose and blew harshly. Robin making an openly disgusted grimace at how full it sounded.

“What’s up with you Eddie? You’ve sneezed like. Seven hundred thousand times.” The freckled brunette teases.

“Ha ha,” he sniffles again, “my allergies are SNF killing me. Some help this is…”

He grumbles and drops the Flonase spray out of his jacket pocket.

“You sound like you’re getting sick, Bean.” Chrissy rubs a hand on his arm.

“What?!”

He was certain it was allergies, but now he has to wonder. The blonde has known him the longest and seemingly knows him better than he does.

“I guess I feel a little more worn out than allergies usually makes me…”

Steve rubs a hand on his boyfriends back, but then pulls his shoulder in to make Eddie face him. The brunette takes a beat to take in the tiny details on Eddie’s face before resting a hand on his forehead.

Eddie scoffs, “Steve it’s springtime. I’m not going to feel any warmer than usual.”

Steve shot Eddie a look right back, “You don’t feel warm. Probably just a cold. But Flonase definitely isn’t going to cure that.”

Eddie grabbed the spray off the picnic blanket and pocketed it again, “yeah yeah whatever.”

#s/tranger t/hings #e/ddie m/unson #s/teve h/arrington #r/obin b/uckley #n/ancy w/heeler #fruity four #kb au’s #radio show au #snzblr #snz kink #ask box #kb writes #steddiesnz

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malinaa · 1 year

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nikolai’s “you don’t know me?” has me on my knees fr

#SORRRYYYYYY U CANT PUT A SEXY BASTARD SECOND SON IN FRONT OF ME N EXPECT ME NOT TO GO CRAZYYYYYYY #shows #shadow and bone #s&b s2 #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov #text #tais toi lys #*#lys lb: grishaverse #grishaversepost

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deus-ex-mona · 7 months

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eat the [redacted] anime pen, kaito-kun

#in o t h e r n e w s i brought all of my plain pens to work and now this is the only pen i’m willing to use bc i accidentally bought 2–#like heck im gonna let my family see it though what if they misunderstand and think that i like the [redacted] anime???? no wayyyyyy #the pen writes pretty decently though ngl. but again im not bringing it to work bc my coworkers would def question it/steal it #plus it’s a black ink pen and i prefer using blue inks bc it’s easier to differentiate from the bw printer ink lmaoooo—#special thanks to my bro’s gf for the pen holder though~~~~~~~~~#but i cant believe my bro remembered my rxl phase from like 2k14 bro erase it from your memory p l s i dont even ship them that much anymore #idk how much he remembered of it but. the way he said ‘the yellow one is your favourite right’ was very. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #i haven’t even talked about them in y e a r s man… ig the list of uncorrected misunderstandings between us will keep on growing #g od. now that i think about it. he’ll prolly assume that aizo and len are the same person if i showed him pics of them at the same time..#like heck im gonna do that. i have a nonexistent reputation to uphold g o o d b y e

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biitchcakes · 3 months

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She wins. . . But I give her a RACE .

( personals DNI . )

#GJSDK jessica be fkin serious #logan racing and lindsay clapping LMOASFJD #silly goofies i love them i want this back #when will my madripoor shenanigans with this trio return from the war #she's so proud to show him her place tho look at that face 🥺#( c o m i c s . )#( v i s a g e . )#( l i n d s a y m c c a b e . )#( l o g a n h o w l e t t . )#( e d i t s . )#( c h . s t u d y . )

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bylertruther · 1 year

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the day that fandom realizes that pointing out writing choices, the negative effects those choices have on other characters, and the less-than-kind actions of a character, aren't a personal attack on you, a call to arms for everyone to hate this character, or even a hate post in and of itself is the day that we will finally know at least a crumb of Peace in these e-streets 🤦‍♂️

#we can point out tht the narrative has made it so tht a) will brought forth his self-fulfilling prophecy b) mike comes off like an ass even #when he's right and c) that el has been powerless for some actions in the story and an active participant for others #you won't explode and die from acknowledging every part of the story presented to you not just the ones that paint your fave in a kind #light lol. and acknowledging ur fave's wrongs or actions doesn't make u a hater #nor does it make this character bad evil mean or irredeemable #good characters (in my opinion) are nuanced and capable of good and bad and the in-between #the byIer fandom is such a culture shock for me the way tht it can be so like . rigid n sanitized n set in its own way sometimes abt #certain things. n tht isnt unique to us obviously but im used to being in fandoms where the 'ugly' is embraced #and here it's like NOPE 🙅‍♂️ NO NUANCE NO GRAY AREA EVERYONE IS PERFECT KIND GOOD N FAULTLESS 100% OF THE TIME N EVERYTHING #IN THE STORY IS EQUAL AND THE SAME AND THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE IN ANYTHING EVER N UR A SCUMBAG IF U POINT TO THE CANON SCENES #THAT SAY OTHERWISE 🔨🔫⛔️🚫👎🔇🚮🗑#like ..... ok then. ... i gues. .s...#makes me wonder how u can appreciate the show in earnest if ur not acknowledging wht it shows u but ok . .. .

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iightbringer · 5 months

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i hate the rumours abt season sixteen or a movie so much. it's an indisputable fact that even if it's true, it will never be what we want it to be, produced by jackles or otherwise (fool me once, shame on u, the winchesters). i just want it to die w dignity. i would rather live w the delusional fantasy happy end i made up in my head then ever trust a studio/producers/network to actually listen to fans. the horse is dead and u killed it - please let me mourn in peace.

#supernatural #“b-but destiel!”#u poor sweet summer child #my prediction if this rumour is true #once again #we will get a worldbuilding garbage fire no one asked for #for some reason my gut tells me 'dean jr' is gonna be the protag #or alternatively #a retcon nightmare that makes everything feel cheap n pointless #bc they kinda screwed their whole ability to say 'oh it's a rewrite get it bc chuck is-'#ive buried my gays. i do not need to see their reanimated corpses default dancing on my tv screen #not to mention we didn't get destiel how we wanted #bc the whole show is a time capsule stuck in the 2000's #even if it moved away from gay jokes n calling women bitch #look at the twd extended 'universe' and tell me im crazy for not being on board w this.

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not-a-big-slay · 1 year

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Us and the night sky

jesper fahey x gn!reader

summary: death did you apart...

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type: angst, fluff if you reaaally look for it

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warnings: death, blood, describing wounds

A/N: this is veeery short, but it almost made me cry. I LOVE jesper and im sorry that my first fic on him is his death 💀 but ill make amends. i recommend to listen to this song while reading, its really sad with that. anyway, ill post some other fics soon, so there a lot more to come :)

The pain rose as they put the remaining strenght to their legs. Their whole body shook, their hands covered in blood not only theirs. Panic for their friends battled panic for their life as they limbed up the hill. They were alone, the crows nowhere to find and only hope thought they were still alive. Screams of people in pain rang in their ear as the screams of the attackers pushed the Crow forward, tears in their eyes tricking their vision with the help from the dark night.

They couldn't stop. They knew the death was present, ready to take them, but they still didn't stop. Not until they found him. Their abdomen made them slow down as it cried red teardrops. The Dreg could swore the bullet is moving deeper. As if the hill curved under them, their legs gave up, making them fall on the knees, the force punching their stomach wound. They were surprised to see that many bruises on them once on the ground, not remembering any pain on the purple spots. They were also shocked when the black marks moved around and the ground danced. Their eyelids narrowed, offering a helping hand as they would take the pain away, if they just closed their eyes. Y/N wanted to allow them to do as they pleased, until they lifted their gaze up, seeing a body, motionless. They had to stare at it for long to see the leather coat.

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No.

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Eyes widened again as Y/N began to crawl to him, worrying they might be late. Their tears and blood created a path behind, as they saw Jesper closer. The moon sparked on his skin and stars shined on his revolvers, lying in his hands. Y/N couldn't hear their own sobs as they crawled closer to him and put a hand on his cheek, staining it with blood.

They immidiately noticed the wound below his shoulder. It matched their own. Y/N cried, feeling their heart breaking, chocking on the pieces. They were unable to utter a word, nor a sound, that being the reason why they were surprised when someone spoke close to them.

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"Can you move? I can't see the sky."

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A rough voice, sounding like it pained to speak a letter, said beneath them. Jesper was alive. And irritated. Y/N felt relieved, smile carved in their face as they lied next to him.

He's alive.

They were silent. The night sky watched over them, helping them accept the unavoidable faith they both knew was coming. Y/N could hear their breaths syncing, a beautiful harmony heard for the last time. Their wound pounded in pain, yet all they could feel was Jesper's hand tightening around theirs. They had so much more to tell him, so much more to laugh at, to cry at, but it's unimportant now. What's more important is them and the stars.

"They shine brighter than yesterday."

Jesper laughed. It was quiet and painful, but so beautiful anyway. "That is weird. We should ask Wylan on that.". Y/N agreed with that, fully knowing that won't happen. Wylan taught them some constalations and they tried to find some, even though their vision slowly gave up. They don't have much time.

"Do you wanna get some food after? I'm beginning to feel kinda hungry" Jesper requested, Y/N feeling his struggle to speak. "Yeah. Maybe we could try that new pub, Nina talked about." they suggested, earning a nod from their lover. "That sounds like a date." he chuckled flirtouriously. It helped pretending, but it didn't stop the bleeding.

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Y/N wanted to feel his lips again. They felt them for the first time a month ago, coincidentally under the moon as well. They were drunk, watching the ocean as it's waves crushed into the harbor. Some drops fell on them, making them all wet. They laughed so hard until he grabbed their cheek, kissing them without a word, pulling away after they were out of air. Y/N knew they wouldn't mind if he suffocated them this way. Death looked at her watch and Y/N could hear the ticking sound.

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Time's up.

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Tears made some of the stars blurry as they spoke: "I love you Jesper."

It was more and more hurtful to breath and they cried even more realizing it's almost over. They felt death's present, she watched them as they held each other, allowing them to make their last moments. A warm hand turned their head on the side, showing them Jesper's face. Y/N looked at every detail, wanting to memorize it to the afterlife. His thumb brushed their lips and he smiled. "I love you Y/N." It hurted to move, but their lips met at last. Y/N felt as the bullet stopped moving and the pain slowly left them. The stress and the dizziness dissapeared, only the taste of Jesper's lips remained.

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"I'll see you in the morning." he whispered. Y/N nodded, feeling tired. As the comfort of his warmth faded away, they closed their eyes.

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They hoped they'll see the others as well.

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nw-art · 1 year

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Leo V. Vega, aka the Sunshine boy ☀️ 💛

for my love, @ne0n-rust 🖤

#baby boy!!!!!!!!#asshole era — pre Long Hair in NC #not wearing his eyepatch and showing off the lil messed eye 😌#s u n s h i n e b a b e #anyways #love u handsome 💕#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk #cyberpunk oc #oc: LV #digital art #my art #art

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fideidefenswhore · 1 year

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🔥 whatever you like

Thanks!

So, there's been a few articles in the past decade or so that express distaste at the comparison of Princess Diana & AB (and a fair amount of umbrage in misc comments on social media at any parallels being drawn whatsoever, generally, I'm not gonna lie, from C/oA stans...Catherine was the Princess of Wales, Catherine was the one that was popular and beloved by the people, I think these are the broader strokes they believe should be associated with her more...that Catherine was the older of the pair does not seem to matter, that Catherine was, like Camilla, the one that knew 'the prince' the longest doesn't matter, because Camilla was Other Woman and AB was Other Woman, and as such they were both hated by the public, they will never see past any other elements of the story/stereotypes than those, esp. because ultimately they believe all the animus directed at both of those women was/is entirely deserved and justified);

But what's interesting is it's not even so much on the grounds that there are always pitfalls in sanctifying people in general, it's generally pearl-clutching about how Diana deserves sanctification, deserves every possible iteration to be made of her life, and AB does not...the answer to the 'moral quandary' presented in the The Times' BSR review, "Anne Boleyn is being rebooted — but was the tragic Tudor queen a whore and a witch or the Princess Diana of the Tudor age?" by Alison W/eir was basically that she wasn't a whore or a witch, but again, her oh-the-humanity answer of "she wasn't a very nice person" and deserved her "unpopularity in her own time", and was so far from Princess Di, woe to those that popularize AB, somehow she omits herself from that list, how stupid they are to ever believe otherwise, etc

The implication of the above is more what's funny to me... she shouldn't be treated as Princess Diana, because Anne 'had a mean streak' (using "words as one would not address to a dog", from a source no less than above reproach than that of an ex-flame)... but, Diana didn't? The woman who pushed her stepmother down a flight of stairs? The woman who confronted her children's nanny with an entirely personal, private (and leaked, to her belief, although it was later revealed it was another doctoring by Bashir) medical document? Diana was sanctified because she died tragically; if she were still alive today, she would almost certainly be "cancelled"; famous (women, particularly...they are generally judged more harshly) people have been cancelled for much less.

And then we have author Vanora Bennett, who did compare them, but not favorably, and rather misogynistically (to other women, as well):

[Anne] didn’t have the knack for self-reinvention that has brought modern celebrities such as Victoria Beckham long-term success, or the tight-lipped compliance that saw Kate Middleton claim her prize after eight years of waiting for Prince William to propose.

If anything, Anne reminds me more of Princess Diana – both of them charming and glamorous, yet unable to maintain smooth relations with the royals around them; manipulative and sometimes vindictive, yet posthumously elevated to icons of victimhood; dying too soon and leaving young children to cope with their tragic legacy.

Unfortunately this assessment has also been given academic gloss, but luckily this has mainly been limited to GW Bernard's asinine, quasi-profound remark that since Diana had sex outside of her marriage, AB probably did, too.

Idk, I've honestly just been thinking about this because I've been thinking about fan reactions as I watch The Crown, puzzled by how Peter Morgan is so good at writing those royals, but so bad at writing these royals...

Because, really, I think there are elements of both Camilla and Diana's stories in AB's? On the surface level, you have ebullient, charismatic, cheated on by her husband, husband dated her sister 1st, (honestly, never not going to be a weird thing, it must have been borne out of...I suppose, both the utterly limited society of 'acceptable' people to interact with for those of extreme wealth and the entitlement and belief you're above such provincial concerns as ‘That's Weird’), which is probably what led to that being motif in the Kristen Stewart as Diana movie.

And then, Anne was unpopular, but it was said basically, that...those who knew her, loved her, and those that didn't were, at the least, captivated by her despite themselves.

How much of her contemporary slander was from people that had only ever glimpsed her? I think we forget that when we forget how late the sixth-finger and other misc. deformities were alleged. 'Goggle-eyed whore' is the mark of someone who saw her from enough of an distance that the only feature of note was those infamous, large eyes.

Often people confuse charisma with popularity, very often they go together but they are not interchangeable, not synonymous. Charisma can only take effect within intimate contexts. As such, it's true that Anne had one but not so much the other.

Who knows how she might have fared, popularity-wise, if she'd had the powers of radio, TV, etc at her disposal...they're creative reimaginings out of her control/remit, but she has those now and seems to have done better on that front in immortality than she did in mortality/life.

What we have basically is two elements -- "royal mistress" and "threatening the image of the monarchy", and maybe even a little “marrying for love [when royal]”. These are all broad narrative stripes that are seen as “scandalous”, all seen as disruptive, against status quo, so they are always going to inspire creators. At the end of the day, the hand-wringing over that inspiration rings ... insipid? Naiive? Take your pick.

#i just want to be hated.gif #this ask is showing how old i am aghbrfsdkl #katherynparr #which is just . ancient #i do hate the kids just cancelling everyone left right and center these days and like. the bloodsport glee they get out of it; tbh #it allows no room for humanity or redemption. i just see all the glittery tiktok edits of diana by them nowadays #and am like...you would hate her? HATE her is she were still alive.#she was human and complex and flawed and 'difficult'#but yeah that catherine was the older of the pair does not matter at all; i guess it's more the idea of her being first?#there are now two edits to the 'i'll get older but your lovers stay my age' which.. hgofsd. alright #1) when you know what relationship that song is inspired by. one with an age gap but larger and in the reverse...kind of funny #2) catherine howard was 24; was she? catherine parr? b e s s i e b l o u n t?#you can hate henry for other reasons but he wasn't a leo dicaprio figure when it came to his romantic relationships #they were all (some of them; very) different women of different ages...#YA BURNT tho .

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