#This took me one hour for some ungodly reason lmao

[sl33pyst4r5]

A little doodle of Grimm cuz I wanted to draw butterfly wings

#hollow knight #hk grimm #troupe master grimm #doodle #I had no idea what to do with the background #Yes this is an AU design. I don't normally draw Grimm as a butterfly #Wait hold on- #tw: blood #Okay imma continue rambling now #Me? Using color pallettes? Since when??? /j #This took me one hour for some ungodly reason lmao #Also yeah. hello tumblr. we meet again #I've been on a hiatus and I hate it #There's only so much I can do when my parents take away my tablet (and game consoles too but whatever)

[einsatzzz]

[OC] Ninomiya Kanako (Kana) - Character Profile

🍎The cold but resolute asocial who's obsessed with her Family! Ninomiya Kanako!🍎

You can go to this link to our Oniyanagi Wiki site for her full character page!

"Kurumi is my twin, so do treat her well. That's neither a request nor a suggestion."

Kana is one of the two 10th generation bosses of the Oniyanagi yakuza family (alongside Kurumi). She is a talented assassin who's fortunately currently under a temporary restriction, so you're totally safe as long as you don't get in her way.

Age: 15 Birthday: December 13 Zodiac Sign: ♐︎Sagittarius Height: 157cm Weight: 46.5kg Gender: ? Country of origin: Japan MBTI: ISFJ Favorite author: Osamu Dazai Favorite food: "Anything sweet will do", Kurumi's cooking

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PERSONALITY: As if she's in a perpetual game of poker, she keeps her cards close to her chest with an unreadable expression.

Kana has a stoic demeanor and her expressions are often devoid of any emotion (even in the face of life-threatening situations). When she does show it, it usually means bad things (not for her). She is also a natural liar and can be very manipulative.

She's an old soul who doesn't like wasting time on things that don't matter. She doesn't have any special interests and also doesn't derive any pleasure or regret from her talent, or so what she says. When in truth, she has a large amount of hidden bloodlust that she has trained to keep under control - for her Family's peace of mind.

One of the very few exceptions that stands out from this dull and empty existence is her love for her twin. Kurumi's safety is also your safety.

SPECIALTY: If it's for her Family, there is nothing she won't cut down.

Kana is a swordsman but she also has a special talent for assassination. She can somehow use any item into a murder weapon, no matter if it's a pencil, a soda can, a piece of twig or even a toilet paper. It's also easy for her to hide her presence because her footsteps has no sound (even when she's running in the rain). Out of habit, she sleeps with her eyes open and it creeps a lot of people out.

DAILY LIFE: Despite certain difficulties, she wants the people that she cherishes to live freely and be true to themselves.

Her Family members are quite the pieces of work - a very lonely, miserable and dishonest bunch looking for a place to belong in this fleeting world. And she is also the same as them. Caring for this Family (in her own way) is a responsibility she took on for herself. She promised, after all. So they should just do whatever their heart desires. Because she's not able to do so for herself anymore.

—Within reason, of course. If Yui were to start causing construction work level noise while working on his robot projects at ungodly hours, she won't hesitate to punch a hole through the wall and tell him to keep it down. If some asshole scum of the earth is trying to court Kurumi? Unacceptable. Fortunately, accidental deaths are a common occurrence.

RELATIONSHIPS: A new school doesn't change anything for her...supposedly.

Reborn: No comment.

Tsuna & Lambo: Don't get ahead of yourselves just because Kurumi is fond of you.

Gokudera: His sister's cooking isn't that bad. Skill issue.

Yamamoto: He's a good kid.

Hibari: This bastard's gonna have to graduate from middle school at some point, right?

Dr. Shamal: There are people in this world who deserve to die. But fellow weeds don't die so easily, don't they?

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Thank you for taking the time to read this! This character...is kindaaaa complicated, so I have a bit of a difficulty coming up with words for her profile. This character can pack so much spoilers lmao. Anyway, I did my best (lol).

Any questions about her or the story is very much appreciated! For credits, all Oniyanagi OCs are by me and @amiahoshi! While for the intro audio, Kana is voiced by erushaVA and I also got the background music here from MusMus! The audio art used above is inspired from En/kidu's April Fools art lmao:

"Kana outright doesn't care and doesn't think about gender or pronouns."

The next one will be Yui's, but that will be for late-July/early-August since I'll be too busy studying in the coming weeks. I think I'll start on the webcomic once I'm done with Yui's ref sheet.

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #khre #khr oc #oc #character design #einart #original character #ninomiya kanako #kurumi's most important little meow meow (heinous criminal) in the whole wide world 🥺🥺💖💖✨✨ #coming up with relationship titles is a pain so tysm pro/ject/se/kai ki/zuna ranks for the inspos #kana-chan ueueueue 🫶🫶 #when she finds out abt her entire lore she will kill me on the spot #i would write more tags but need to do my taxes at ungodly hours now 🫡🫡🫡i procrastinated on it enough #character sheet and profile of my beloved oc >>> taxes #i know my priorities #ok tbf it's still not the day of the due date yet so im still safe if i submit it now

[sailxrmxrs]

happy birthday quest blooming panic what a lovely day it is indeed. was i awake at ungodly hours trying to come up with an idea that i would be able to write into a half decent birthday fic? maybe, maybe not you'll never know yes i was. anyway my internet was trying to fight me all week so it's been a Time trying to finish this on time but it was worth it bc quest beloved deserves a happy birthday and a happy birthday ONLY. if i see any angst today it's on sight. see u next month for xyx gamers. hopefully my internet won't hate me by then lmao.

Quest shifted under the covers, finally waking from a night of comfortable sleep. The curtains were still closed and the room still dim enough that he could have easily fallen back asleep for another hour or two, though his work schedule would certainly hinder those plans. Quest rolled over, eyes closed again as he reached to pull you in close to his chest. Only, as his arm came down on the spot you always slept in, he was met with empty space. The sheets still held the faintest lingering warmth but you were decidedly not there. Quest sat up, the heel of his hand rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before finding his glasses so that he might discover where you had gone. It wasn't rare for you to wake up first, but you almost always waited until he had woken too. Or, if you had to leave, then you'd at least wake him up with a soft and sleepy kiss goodbye. It was a tradition he felt almost lost without as he rose from the inviting warmth of the bed in search of you. Last night you'd mentioned needing to run a few errands in the morning but would you really have left so early? Or without telling Quest? It wasn't that he disliked you leaving without him knowing, but rather that he would have wanted to go with you.

In the time since you and Quest had moved in together, he dearly treasured any outing you took as a couple; no matter how mundane or boring the task might seem, Quest found it all so incredibly domestic and he adored spending that time with you. As he sleepily explored your shared home, calling out your name in his husky morning voice, Quest began to grow more and more concerned. Realistically, he knew you'd probably just headed out to run some errands but that semblance of logic did little to quell his unease. However, instead of opting to let those thoughts fester, Quest continued with his morning routine and brewed himself a coffee. If anything, it'd serve to wake him up a little and steal away the aching tiredness that still dwelled in his eyes. As he manouevered about the kitchen, Quest's eyes found the calendar that hung beneath the clock on the kitchen wall. His birthday. Every year it came around and still managed to take him by surprise. His birthday was never really an event that Quest waited in anticipation for, particularly in his adult years—he barely even remembered the last time he celebrated it. Though he certainly remembered the gentle scolding you gave him the previous year when he accidentally let slip that it was his birthday. He hadn't hidden the fact intentionally but the thought to share it simply hadn't crossed his mind, a result of his own lacklustre views on the so-called 'special' day.

This was to be his first birthday since moving in together—and also the first one that you were aware of. A thought flashed in Quest's mind that perhaps the reason you'd snuck out so early was because you were planning something for his birthday. Neither one of you had discussed potential plans so Quest naturally assumed the day would pass by fairly uneventfully. It would’ve been nice to celebrate, of course, but he hadn’t dwelled on the thought long enough to consider asking what plans you might want to make. As Quest leaned against the kitchen counter taking his first sip of coffee, he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and you arriving home. Within moments you were in the kitchen, a pleasantly surprised look on your face to see Quest awake and about.

"Hello, you." You hadn't yet shrugged off your coat as you bounced over to Quest, nose tinted pink from the biting chill of the morning air.

Quest slid a mug towards you, prepared exactly how you liked it as you came up beside him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday, love. Thought you'd still be in bed by the time I got back."

"Not worth having a lie in without you there," Quest hummed, taking another sip of coffee. "Where did you run off to, anyway?"

You spared a quick glance toward the front door of the apartment before noting Quest's poor attempts to hide his avid curiosity. "I was hoping you'd still be asleep so I could make the surprise more exciting but I guess this will do. Go sit on the sofa and close your eyes. And keep 'em closed. No peeking or no present."

"Being with you is enough of a gift for me," Quest teased, his hands reaching for your waist while you playfully tried to push him away.

"You are disgustingly cute sometimes. But also I hate it." Despite your words, you relinquished to Quest's hold on you, relishing in the warmth of his bare chest on your cheek. The two of you stayed there, suspended in time, until the anticipation of seeing Quest's reaction to his birthday gift overcame you. "There's plenty of time for birthday cuddles later. For now, ass on couch and eyes closed."

Quest chuckled, amused by your impatience but he listened to your instruction this time around, planting himself down and closing his eyes. There was a hint of temptation to open an eye just to see how you might react but he decided against it, feeling your eyes scrutising him for a sign of disobedience. Satisifed that he wouldn't sneak a glance, you headed back to the front door where you had left Quest's birthday present—the most important of them anyway. You had some smaller gifts hidden away in your wardrobe but those could wait until later. You had a strong suspicion that Quest might care for this one a little more.

"Okay, open your eyes in 3, 2, 1."

Quest's eyes opened, adjusting to the light once more as he looked for a change in the scenery. At his confusion, you told him to look by his feet. Sniffing the floor by Quest's feet was a small labrador puppy, a bright golden colour as it explored all the new sights and sounds.

"You didn't," Quest said, disbelief and surprise all over his features.

"I did." You grinned at Quest as he reached down to pick up the puppy, now excitedly greeting its new father. "You're always saying how you'd love to get a dog someday so I thought it was about time to grant that wish."

Quest smiled at you as the puppy bounded off to explore the apartment, paws skittering along the floors. His hands sought out yours, fingers intertwining and interlocking as he blinked away the tears that collected in the corners of his eyes. "Have I ever told you that you're a literal angel?"

"Once or twice," you laughed as Quest pulled you onto his lap, arms enveloping your body as he buried his face into the crook of your shoulder, leaving a smattering of kisses on the skin.

"Well I'll say it again. You're an angel. What did I do to deserve you?"

"None of that," you reprimanded, pulling back from his grasp and taking his face in your hands. "You are deserving of it all. But we should probably go find our new baby. Before they get to your gifts before you can." You moved from your spot in front of Quest, hands finding his as though there were magnets, or a string binding the two of you together; wherever one went, the other was assured to follow no matter the physical distance that may emerge between them. Whatever plans Quest had been expecting, this was so far removed from how he'd thought the day might go. But he could not have felt more loved than in this moment. If Quest could bottle any emotion, it would be this one: pure, unadulterated adoration and appreciation for all that you were. Quest couldn't imagine a life without you in it—didn't want to imagine such an existence. Before he had met you, Quest was merely drifting through life. Sure, he had plenty of nice memories from his time in the server, but he hadn't felt like he was truly living until that fateful day you made your way into his life. Since then, Quest felt as though he was finally seeing in colour, finally experiencing life and all its wonders as they should be experienced. And, as he watched you laughing as the small puppy came bounding into your arms, Quest knew this was the exact brand of happiness that he would never let slip from his grasp. So with all the love in his eyes, he came to your side where he strived to be for as long as he lived.

#blooming panic #blooming panic x reader #blooming panic fanfic #blooming panic quest #blooming panic quest x reader #another birthday comes and goes and the birthday fic tradition continues #i am looking at october and eventual xyx birthday writing #the cycle of dread continues #will i be able to think of an idea and write it or will my brain decide to break and give me nothing #tune in next month to find out #what is creativity what is inspiration who am i what kind of mess is my tumblr #anyway #mars writes

[oddball-artz]

I am gonna flood your inbox, just warning you now 🤗

So, you want questions? I'll give some to ya.

1. How tall is Dalia?

2. If she was granted anything she could want, what would she want?

3. Any family? If so, who's she closer too?

4. How does she feel about colorguard? Is she good at it?

5. If she was friends with one of my own oc's? Who, and why would she be friends with them?

6. Lastly, if she was dared to eat dirt for 20$ would she?

Sorry for all the questions! I wanna know more abt her, and squeeze her like she's one of my blorbos.

Here we go, in order! :]

1, Dalia is 5'6, and she's also 15 and weighs around 160 pounds just to cover bases

2, if she could have anything, it would probably be peace of mind. She's usually worried about something or someone, and she puts her concerns about and need to protect those close to her above her own needs. She wants a way to just shut out her thoughts and have the peace her epithet can provide to others, but if she tries to use her epithet on herself it doesn't work, so she's constantly seeking out ways to get that peace, but her thoughts never go away, she can push them to the back of her mind but they're always there and she wishes they weren't. (Lowkey needs therapy tbh)

3, alr family wise she has a pretty big family(so many cousins but I'll make a tree later, I promise) but for immediate family she has 2 siblings, both younger. The middle kid is Esme, and she's 9, and she's pretty close with Dalia (even though some days she makes her wanna rip her own hair out bc omfg does this kid not listen). The youngest is named Jasper, he's 8, and he's sweet, but that doesn't mean he doesn't cause trouble, it's just that when he just does it's more sneakily than when Esme does it. When they play together, it's just basically this (https://youtube.com/shorts/7EVy_Bh6lNk?si=qKcONC0YZzcMUH2b sorry idk how else to link it) Dalia regularly walks in on them being like this and is used to it at this point. Her mom is pretty distant and is constantly working, and Dalia wishes she was around more. Her mom(named Avery) also just kinda pins her siblings onto Dalia whenever her dad isn't home. Her dad(named Carter) is a stay at home dad who's trying his best. He's got a lot going on, but despite it all, he's pretty close with Dalia. They have the same sense of humor, so if you put them in a room together, they constantly crack jokes at each other. He was on drumline when he was her age, and that's part of the reason she joined guard bc she wanted to be involved with the marching band like her dad. She looks up to him a lot.

4, she likes colorguard a lot, but there was definitely a learning curve. If you saw her at her first performance compared to her latest, you wouldn't think it's the same person. She gets super nervous before performances tho (she cried because of her nerves before her first real performance) but the more performances and practice she got under her belt the better her nerves have gotten(she still gets a little panicky before big shows and parades, but nothing compared to how it used to be)

5, Prolly Sabrina, i feel her idgaf energy would ground Dalia in a way(I have a lot of friends with that energy and idk why but it grounds me, so now figuring out why is Dalia's problem lmao) They also have similar music taste(Dalia playlist coming soon) If they were friends they'd totally send eachother fanfic for fandoms they're both in at ungodly hours of the night lmao

6, short answer, no (but if you push, yes.) Long answer no, and not because she's above eating dirt for cash but because she knows she'll probably get made fun of if she does. She folds to peer pressure pretty easy tho (people pleaser) and could probably be convinced to if you pushed her about it.

(Sorry this took so long to make lmao, and tysm for asking questions about her. Sorry if this is kinda bad. I'm a better artist than I am a writer)

#epithet erased oc #ee oc #Dalia Kalmeren (oc) #answered ask #idk what else to put in the tags

[lavender-lucifer]

midnight solace - Lord Diavolo

tags/warnings - hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, pinning , descriptions of loneliness, cuddling, hand holding, gn!reader 

wc -  ~1.8k 

a/n - this is my first full fic technically and I did not think it would be 1.8k LMAO

description - Diavolo struggles with loneliness but you make him feel alive. 

Staying in the castle is isolating to say the least. There's no yelling about who took what or walking into a hallway to find a certain demon hanging from the ceiling. In here, the sounds are soft taps along a marble floor that shimmer underneath the chandeliers. It mocks him at times, the silence weighing on Diavolo constantly behind the confined walls. He has important people in his life, he does. There’s Lucifer who's there to bounce ideas off of and give him advice. One of his oldest friends. Then there’s Barbatos who's been by his side for longer than a mortal could comprehend. Diavolo wouldn't give up his role for anything, it gives him purpose and satisfaction knowing he can unite the realms to co-exist. But when the night sky of the Devildom and the sparkling stars come into view, he can't help but feel a part of him missing when he sits on the edge of his bed staring at the tapestry covered walls. It sticks to his skin, the feeling of loneliness. And when he tucks himself into bed he feels it consume him whole. All of a sudden the air is too dry and the sheets feel itchy. It leads to haunting the halls at night, giving up sleep weeks ago. Tap, tap, tap as his feet pad along the floor and his shadow glides across the intricate wallpaper. Moments like these is what he hates most. Roaming corridors with nothing but his thoughts. No one is awake at such an ungodly hour and he wouldn't dare to stir anyone. Not for this. 

Tap, tap, tap.

This routine carries on for a few more days but it seems even demons need some type of rest. The bags under his eyes become more prominent, the laughing more minimal and everyone seems to notice. Council meetings are more draining as the group skates around the real issue at hand. Lucifer has assured you and his brothers that Diavolo is fine and to keep the questions to a minimum. You know it's out of good faith but it hurts you deep down to see the one you care about struggle. The relationship you have with the prince is unorthodox in short. It's beautiful really, catching the longing glances he would send you. And it's tragic because he's the prince of demons and you're the human exchange student. Yet that doesn't stop him from thinking of you. It doesn't stop his breathing to become steadier. Or the loneliness that penetrates his heart to subside.

"Hey.” 

He jumps. He's not sure when the other council members left or when you claimed the seat beside him, hand lightly resting on his shoulder. He can feel the warmth you send through his uniform. You notice the shade of crimson that dusts his cheeks as you continue. 

"I noticed you've been acting a bit...down lately. Just know I'm here for you, okay?" you say with sincerity and he feels it. The tenderness you radiate that makes him bloom. 

"I suppose I haven't been sleeping much lately.”

 He knows he's down playing it and so do you. The soft smile he gives is almost convincing. Almost. Maybe you shouldn't pry.

"Okay, just...just let me know if I can do anything to help-"

"Have dinner with me."

"Wh-"

"Only if you want to, of course!" He adds, a little too quickly. His nerves eat away at him as he curses at himself for asking you now. Truth being told, it has been while since you had been to the castle. You don't go often with how busy Diavolo is but once in a blue moon, he extends an invite to you. You can't say no, it's been too long since you've gotten to spend time together. Too long since you've felt your heart beat for someone else. 

“Yeah, I think that would be really nice", you reply breaking into a wide grin. He beams as well, his smile matching yours. Not able to remember the last time he had a reason to smile. Diavolo offers his hand to you as he gets up from his chair. It's heavy in your own when he helps you up. Soft palms rub against yours as Diavolo feels a sense of mellowness wash over him. It makes him feel alive, more than a hollow shell that moves through an endless cycle. 

Tap, tap, tap as you walk hand in hand out of the council room.

Later that evening you find yourself curled up on one of the many couches in the castle next to Diavolo. A deep burgundy blanket is draped across you both, your fingers grazing against him as the movie plays. Neither of you are paying attention though. Diavolo can’t tear his focus away from how your fingers intertwine with his. How they lock perfectly together, a feeling he can’t fathom ending. The only thing that hounds you is knowing this moment can’t last. They never do. And when you fail to stifle a yawn he feels the gnawing in his stomach begin. Is it too much for him to ask you to stay? Too selfish that he wants his streak of lonely nights to end? He hasn’t felt this peaceful in weeks and you can tell. Guilt plagues you knowing you’ll have to end the night and subject him to whatever misery seems to await. The grip on his hand tightens, almost like an apology as you consider the next words carefully. 

“Maybe,” you pause. There's hesitation laced in your voice. 

 “Maybe I can stay here the night? It’s late and I wouldn’t want to wake anyone up coming back home.”

Even though the room is dark he can the light the screen casts when he looks over at you. It illuminates the tops of your cheekbones and Diavolo has never wanted to bring his hand to your face more than ever. You get lost in his amber eyes when you feel a newfound love warmth throughout your body. His touch is comforting, leaning into his palm it lulls you in. He breaks the silence,“Yes. Yes I’ll have Barbatos prepare a guest room for you.” He feels his heart swell when you look at him with adoration. It dances in your eyes when you hear his response and it makes him break out in a smile.

Taps echo in the corridors again while Diavolo leads you to your room, fingers still roped in each others. Centuries old paintings line the walls, the golden frames sparkle in the light. You're stopped in front of a tall door, the wood is stained darkly to enhance the designs etched into it. 

"Here we are.”

Diavolo turns to face you, a soft smile to hide his grimace when you let go of his hand. "I'll see you in the morning, Dia," you respond and press a kiss to his cheek. He can feel the spot tingle, it sends shocks throughout his entire body. What he would give to feel your skin on his one more time.

The guest room is spacious and the carpet is soft under your feet. The duvet is embroidered with flowers and feels cool on your skin when you sink into the sheets. The quietness eases you into a soft slumber. But that isn't the case for Diavolo who's made it back to his bedroom. The ceiling is consumed by a darkness that seems to stare back at him. He isn't sure how long he's been tossing and turning. The wind is too harsh against the window and there's an abundance of papers that need to be signed. 

But then there's you, someone he holds close to his heart. Someone who helps him blur out the busyness of his royal status and makes his heart flutter. So when he finds himself standing in front of the double doors that lead to your room it doesn't surprise him. But the doors feel intimidating. Like they’re judging his every move, watching him intensely. The need to hear your steady heartbeat outweighs everything else when he knocks softly on the door.

It stirs you from your sleep, shuffling out of bed you open the door to be greeted by Diavolo. His hair is tousled and messy, as you look up to meet his eyes you see he looks drained. The time is late and that's all you need to know before you widen the door more and allow more light to stream in. Diavolo gives you a sigh of gratitude before he steps into the room. It's astounding how quickly he feels tranquil, your presence alone seems to calm his storm of thoughts. He waits for you to close the door before he finds your hand interlocking your fingers then he pulls you towards the bed. It's different than his room. This room is warm and full of love that washes over him when he gets enveloped within the sheets. You lay down adjacent to him, sinking into the pillows as you cast a glance at his figure. Diavolo maintains a distance between the two of you but that doesn’t stop you from feeling the neediness that emits from his body. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask shifting closer to his side. Diavolo turns  to face you. Despite the darkness, he can make out your face and the way your eyes glimmer, catching the lights from between the curtains. But the silence speaks volumes when you slowly reach out and trace his face. He no longer feels the loneliness that follows him like a shadow. Not when you graze his lips, not when you reach up to play with his hair. All he can feel is the steady beat of his heart in his chest. A beat that plays for only you to hear. 

“Can we just...stay like this? For a while.”

It’s barley audible. You would have missed it if not for listening to every rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. Pressed flush against him now with his arm slung over your waist, pulling you closer so he can rest his head in the juncture of your shoulder and neck. 

“’course”, you whisper and wrap an arm around him, tangling your limbs together. His fingers glide along the bare skin that peeks out from below you shirt. After all those nights of drifting through a deserted labyrinth where sleep manages to escape him, Diavolo feels comforted in your arms. It’s like having a taste of paradise, simple touches igniting his love for you. His need to constantly keep you around to keep him from flying too close to the sun. And it lulls him into a hazy state like a sailor to a sirens song. 

His touch sends shivers up your spine and sends butterflies to your stomach. You can feel Diavolo’s breath fanning on your neck and the scent of his shampoo that lingers in his hair. Pressing a kiss to his head, Diavolo’s fingers slow to a stop. You can only assume he has finally fallen asleep and feel a small smile making its way onto your face. 

The castle is no longer filled with soft taps along the marble floor. Rather, it is full of a rejuvenating silence. A feeling of two souls basking in the intimacy of one another. A feeling of solace. 

#obey me angst #obey me x reader #diavolo x reader #angst #diavolo angst #obey me fluff #obey me #reesie writes

[x-infernhoes-x]

Evermore- Maliksi x Reader

Title: Evermore

Genre: : )

Warnings:  Not much but I’ll leave it to you guys lmao. Implied Relationship as well so ye.

Word Count: 1, 690 k +

Description: I don’t know WHY I get ideas for fanfics at ungodly hours of the night like I’m supposed to be on a break here since my neck still hurts from writing that 2k pound of word vomit that is known to be one of my greatest smut piece that eventually earned me the title as ‘The Emissary for Zaddy Cannibal’ WHEEZE and I started writing this at 1:57 am so let’s hope I’d finish this before 4 am. I’m basing some stuff I know about Maliksi from the comics and perhaps the anime as well. I also suggest listening to Evermore from the live-action version of Beauty and the Beast after reading!

PS. I didn’t finish this last night because I got sleepy at 3 am. There’s an AO3 version of this that’s direct to the point if you want something shorter than this one which can be found here! Oh and my grandma suggested that I set the font size to 12 instead of 11! and as always, I finished this at 3:29 am GGWP talaga.

Anyways, enjoy! _______________________________________

If people asked about how the Prince of Tikbalangs was like as a person, most of them would describe him as rowdy, haughty, stubborn at times may even be perceived as a pervert due to his distaste of not wearing any underwear underneath his jeans. Some thought of him as the classical, spoiled rich kid who cared for no one but himself but in reality, he was so much more than what people would perceive him to be. Being a Prince was something, sure he got everything that he wanted regardless of what it was, he would always find a way for it but sometimes it led him to live a rather lonely life that felt like he was nothing more but a slave to live through this illusion of being the perfect prince.

If they took the time to peek through the curtains of his façade, they would see that he just wanted someone to understand and see him for who he is but this also proved to be contradictory for the poor fellow given the fact that every time someone would show him just the right amount of honesty and kindness, he would find out that most of these people were only after him for things such as taming him to become their loyal servant, for his money or even for the sake of his looks. He thought that this curse of his would stay with him for the rest of his Engkanto life but somehow that all seemed to change his rather pessimistic view on life when he had come across someone who would turn his whole life in a different direction.

Maliksi had met (Y/N) (L/N) on one of his father’s many extravagant events where he was forced to sit through it. Of course, while his father was busy chatting away, the prince took this as an opportunity to sneak away which eventually led him towards an unsuspecting person who would change his life forever.

At first, the two of them were like total opposites, always clashing and arguing about something to the point that his father, Senior Armanaz had to interfere with their constant bickering but time seemed to wear both Maliksi and (Y/N)’s dissatisfaction for each other’s presence and instead began to tolerate the other, which eventually led into something more than just friendship among the two.

Maliksi and (Y/N) were completely inseparable, almost attached to the hip to the point that the Prince was rarely seen without them. He would take (Y/N) on trips across the country, sometimes he would take them out on long drives after his races and almost everything in between. People have reported that the two seemed even more in sync especially in battle, covering each other’s backs while bantering about which car model was the best or where they would eat after this whole ordeal like the two of them were playing a mere game of Patintero or even playing a good round of Pogs to see who got the most hits on their opponents and who seemed to be stronger.

But there were precious moments where Maliksi would take them on trips across the country just to escape from the hectic and bustling streets of the city and gave them the taste of what it means to be free and live life in color. He would watch his partner’s joyful and almost curious gaze with a feeling of warmth and care in his chest that would make him smile along with them, the two of them would participate in various festivals such as Flores de Mayo and its ritual pageant, Santa Cruzan, The Masskara Festival in Bacolod down to his personal favorite which happened to be the Moriones Festival that takes place in Marinduque. But out of those trips, the one that he treasures the most was the time Maliksi and his parents had flown out to their home province, Bukidnon to celebrate the Kaamulan Festival where his partner met the rest of the family, of course, this was also the time where he had proposed to (Y/N) after their 3 years of dating, he was glad that they had accepted his proposal.

Who knew things would eventually change from thereon. With the underworld restless and agitated from all the events that have transpired, it seemed to put a strain between Maliksi and his fiancé. To make matters worse between the two, Maliksi began to do races that would conclude in fatal car accidents for both parties. This would result in (Y/N) and Maliksi arguing non-stop every time they meet however these fights never resulted in something physical but it would leave them in tears or the other walking away with a slam of the door. This cycle seemed to break the moment a certain Babaylan-Mangdirigma had beat him at his own game and managed to snap some sense into him as well the moment his beloved ran at him at full force, scolding him right in front of Alexandra Trese before the two left to settle their problems in private.

“Magpakasal na tayo.” Maliksi told (Y/N) the morning after the two of them had reconciled. Of course, this made his fiance cough up their drink, eyes wide and still hacking their lungs out while Maliksi made his way over to them, patting their back gently to ease their pain. Once things were clear, (Y/N) could only look at him, disbelief and surprise evident on their face before they spoke, “Seryoso ka ba?! Paano yung simbahan, yung venue-“ Holding their hands in his own, Maliksi could only give his soon-to-be spouse a grin, placing a chaste kiss upon the back of their hands. “Wag ka nang magalala, babe. I’ve got it covered.” And just like he had said, Maliksi did have it covered, the venue, the church, and everything in between. It was a quick but simple ceremony that had his parents and (Y/N)’s parents present and nobody outside of the clan knew about this union between them. Time seemed to move quickly after that but the two newlyweds felt like it was an eternity for them both.

In a short amount of time the fantasy of church bells and dreaming faded into war cries and chants of ‘Sic Itur Ad Astra’  quickly and we see Maliksi and his spouse come face to face with the greatest foe they’ve ever come across, the war-god of Bukidnon, Talagbusao. With the rest of their forces subdued by the War God and Maliksi trying to recover from the hit he had taken from Talagbusao, the Tikbalang prince seemed to take notice that his spouse was nowhere in sight and panic seemed to take a hold on him like a choke-hold. Standing up, he began to look for them, ruby-red eyes rapidly scanning the area, furiously looking for his beloved, silently praying to Bathala that they were okay or let alone still be alive.

His prayers seemed to be answered when he saw them, still kicking and fighting and running to where Talagbusao was and he immediately knew something was wrong. “(Y/N)!! ANONG GINAGAWA MO!?” Maliksi yelled out through the sound of roaring bullets, trying his best to reach over to where their lover was.  “Alexandra, ngayon na!” Maliksi heard (Y/N)’s commanding voice ring out as she caught the Babylan-Mandirigma’s knife, Sinag throwing it to her while they subdued Talagbusao to the best of their abilities, eyes locked with their husband as they mouthed at him, ‘Patawarin mo ako, Maliksi.’ And as quick as a flash, Alexandra, Talagbusao, and (Y/N) disappeared into the Dragon’s Gate. Maliksi was left to watch his spouse in paralyzed horror and shock disappear right before his eyes, chest clenching in panic as the impact of the closing portal sent everyone nearby it flying backward.

_____________________

A month has then passed after that event and we see Maliksi within the Trese household as he would always do, always waiting, hoping, and praying that his (Y/N) would return to him safe and unharmed. This day was different than the other days he would spend at the household because this day was the day that Alexandra Trese had returned as announced by a pale-looking and wide-eyed Hank. The tikbalang prince was the first to head where Alexandra---who was now swarmed by her older brothers and the kambal, his eyes still searching for his spouse, his expression of hope immediately diminished as he spoke, his voice slowly trembling with each step he took, “Nasaan si (Y/N), Alexandra?”  at the mention of his spouse’s name, Alexandra then refused to meet his eyes as the rest of the Trese siblings along with the Kambal clearing a path for him, all watching him with disconsolate looks and glistening eyes as Alexandra held onto Sinag as tightly as she could, trying her best to find the right words to say to him.

“Wala na si, (Y/N), Maliksi. She’s gone.”

_________________________

“There is a story, of a man who had lost his beloved in a war, some say he still waits for their return, others say that the day his beloved had disappeared, he had soon followed.” 

“They say that this man could be found standing by the tall windows of Tower A [1] located in Ayala Avenue. Urban myths suggest that this man is a ghost bound to the building, others say that he’s the reason why that Tower still exists.” Now in his prime, Maliksi sat in the place where his father used to sit. It had been years since he had taken over the clan and years since his beloved, (Y/N) was taken away from him at such an early age. Beside him was an empty throne reserved for them once they return. No matter how many years it would take him, Maliksi Armanaz, former prince and now leader of the Armanaz clan, would still wait for his beloved, (Y/N) to return to him until the end of his days. He would wait for them for evermore.   

#trese netflix #trese #trese imagine #maliksi imagine #maliksi armanaz #fanfic #trese x reader #maliksi x reader #kailan kaya ako titigil #ewan ko ba HAHAHA

[mercury-hammer]

Jayce writing prompts 👀 college AU or professor AU if you do those, for example how would Jayce interact with a class of students, i bet they banter with him lmao (maybe viktor's there too?)

If canon universe, how about a no-plot, jayce's internal monologue kinda thing, exploring one of his traits that you find interesting (i wanna see you pick his brain apart and explain it to me, a still-jayce-ambivalent person hehe)

I went with the second prompt! And then it got away from me, just a little, Enjoy!! I did giopara instead of talis so I hope that’s alright!

Tw: mentions of self-harm and not listening to ones therapist, vague mentions of fighting and violence.

—

Kicking machines, fundamentally, has never done anyone any good. I mean sure you could kick a machine and it’d work again, but that was only sometimes, and Jayce needed this to work perfectly, All the time, because quite honestly If it didn’t work perfectly all the time, he was going to put his hammer through the ground, or a window, he hadn’t taken the time to calculate which would statistically be More Satisfying, in the event of a small fit of rage

(This was, of course, a lie, it was the window. Always Always the window. He had done the calculations)

This is how he found himself precariously balancing one of the small hextech chips he’d thrown together in a 4 day no sleep bender, between his lips, as he applied thermal paste to the small connector unit, which he had for some ungodly reason made an impossibly small gap for, something about compatibility, whatever Past Jayce was thinking, it was ridiculous, and Current Jayce wasn't having it. Why the fuck would he have made the one part he needed to access often and frequently, have a gap smaller than his pinkie finger.

It took him approximately 5 tries to apply the thermal paste, and then an additional 8 tries to place the chip onto the thermal paste, so that he could turn the stupid machine on again, and see if it blew right back up in his face.

For the wellness of everyone in Runeterra, the abhorred machine ran just as intended.

If Jayce got so excited he threw his book into the wall, accidentally knocking the fire alarm system in place, and sending cascades of cold water down onto his head, no one else was in the lab to bear witness to it. It didn’t happen.

—

Of course, he wasn’t always tinkering away in his lab, occasionally he would be trying (and failing) to seem even somewhat vaguely interested in what the higher class citizens of piltover deemed worthy of their time. It’s not prim nor proper to get blackout smashed at one of these parties, so Jayce had to pull his expression into what he called his “Condescending Cunt” face just to pass off as if he were one of them and also belonged here, in this too big fancy ballroom with small tiny foods he hated the tastes and textures of.

(Another lie, he keeps lying today, he fucking loves those little cocktail sausages)

He should have been paying attention more, because the woman he’s looking in the vague direction of at the moment seems to be waiting for his reply on something she said, and Jayce can’t even remember her bloody name, so why would he remember whatever random thing she had come up with to discuss with him (a thing he’s come to accept over the 10 plus years he’s been attending these things)

“Hm? What oh yes, right, hmm” is the best that Piltover's Sparkly Golden Man of Progress can come up with, but what does he care, really I mean he’s a scientist not a public speaker no matter what the council might think.

She doesn’t look pleased with this answer at all, and storms off before he can act like a respectable person and just ask her what she said. Oh well, it mustn't have been that important.

It’s another 3 hours before he finds it in him to just up and leave, these might’ve been bareable when he was 27, but he’s 43 now, his back hurts, and the lack of anyone interesting enough to talk to was enough to send him careening into the weak champagne they had stocked for the event.

Getting drunk at home was much more enjoyable

—

Being thrown into a concrete wall at Mach speeds isn’t fun. Well it is fun, but Jayce’s therapist told him that was bordering on “self harm” or whatever, so he had to remind himself that it wasn’t fun. Having a laser pointed at his face was not fun, and he didn’t enjoy it.

(Lie again. Really he had to stop, but his life had reached a breaking point about 4 years ago where he realized he had the most fun when he was getting the shit beat out of him by the metal shell of a man he used to care about, he hadn’t told his therapist about that one, he’s sure she’d have some choice words for him about that.)

After party fights were something that Jayce had somehow come to look forward to, it was like after party sex, but he didn’t have to think too hard about the fights like he did with sex. During sex he had to make sure the other person was having fun, that they enjoyed it, fighting Viktor meant he could turn off his brain and swing a massive weapon around without much care, and he didnt have to care if Viktor was enjoying this either, quite frankly he probably wasn’t having as much fun as Jayce was, but they were fighting what did it matter.

He should probably pick himself up off the ground, that would be a smart idea, and Jayce was a smart man. He doesn’t pick himself up off the floor, actually he thinks he’s lying there for a good 3 minutes before he can feel sharp metallic claws on his throat, his body being lifted like some discarded doll, and his back hitting the wall of whatever alleyway he and Viktor had met in this time. It takes him a few seconds to lift his eyes up off the ground where they were and oh isn't that a nice sight, at some point he must’ve swung his hammer hard enough to knock Viktor’s mask off.

Relatively speaking, it was the same face as it had always been. Well, no, Viktor’s eyes must have been replaced at some point, black sclera and Orange Iris’ staring back at him, and there was metal playing out his face where the hollows of his cheeks used to be, but the slight crooked angle of his nose was still the same, he still had a gap between his two front teeth, even if they were sharper now, and the moles on his face still stood out against the paleness of his skin.

Oh. Viktor was talking to him, or he might have been talking to him, his mouth was moving, why couldn’t he hear what Viktor was saying. It didn’t matter too much, because the edges of his vision had gotten all hazy, and his arms suddenly felt heavier than the stupid hammer he walked around with everywhere.

Falling into unconsciousness was like a blessed gift.

#Katze’s Writing #Jayce giopara #league of legends #jayce talis #viktor league of legends #viktor the machine herald #jayvik #if you squint

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D

I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao

Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~

You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂

And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ

I hope these attempts bring you joy! 

William Shookspeare:

Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)

“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”

“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.

“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”

Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):

It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.

The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 

She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.

“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”

Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):

Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.

Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...

“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”

She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”

She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”

Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):

They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.

He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 

Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.

“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”

She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”

And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):

Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 

Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 

She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.

As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”

Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):

MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 

She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.

Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.

He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 

“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):

Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 

She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.

He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.

“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 

Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:

Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”

“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”

Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.

“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”

“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”

She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.

“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.

A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp jean #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp comte #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #back at it again with that fangdad propaganda #I love him so much oTL #it would be worth getting flicked/chided by Sebas i regret nothing #im so softe chirren (**offkey kazoo** CAAAAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE T O N I G H T) #also though it was probably obvious i am 100% team MC will become a vampy and stay with leo forever someday #i Pretend I Do Not See ikevamp canon #also for the record idk why i went from his perspective to hers after the shakes hc but here we are Welcome To My Twisted Mind #im sorry if that caused any confusion or dissatisfaction with the rest of the writing hasjfgdhskj kind of set a false precedent by accident #anywho please enjoy what my spoons have managed <3333 #now i need to work on that masterlist i promised you all #i do be chugging along slowly but surely #not incorrect quotes #rambles

[wonwooridul]

check in tag ✅

Tagged by @sangyus , @dongkwan , @miingyu , @cheolgyu , @ohoshi , @24hoursofdaisy , @haniehae , @vernons , @xuboowoo , @sannie-hannie , @seungkwns 🥰🥰🥰

why did you choose your url?

there wasn’t any specific reason but it’s like shua-way, which sounds cute + yes I’ll choose shua’s way lmao

do you have any sideblogs?

I do have a sideblog for kbands @nflyingwe and the other two hourly blogs that I co-run!

how long have you been on Tumblr?

a year + a few days lol

do you have a queue tag?

I do but I don’t use it lol. It’s run to queue after “run to you”

why did you start the blog in the first place?

to keep up on svt content plus I always wanted to get into gfx and gifs so I just gave it a go when my bestfriend supported and I took a break from painting cause the block was getting too much.

why did you choose this pfp?

cause I love woozi and his nootnoot agenda. pls hes so fucking adorable with it I’m gonna sob and kith him

why did you choose your header?

being an ot13, I just went with what photo of any SVT member went with the colour palette i had in mind. bestie Carrie made it for me when I rebranded my blog, only trusting @art-hao with it cause hello? queen is amazing at what she does.

what’s your post with most notes?

For SVT, for some reason this one when I didn’t even bother to colour the gifs. And for my man Jackson Wang, this one

how many mutuals do you have?

again, somehow ALOT AND I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU MWAH. these days I’m mutual-ing more blogs with other groups cause otherwise same typa content is on the dash. (Not that I don’t love it but ukwim)

how many followers do you have ?

Little close to the 1k milestone 😳😳😳 (ily all <3)

following?

286. just as I said, trying to follow blogs with different contents and groups so one group doesn’t take up the dash

do you make shit post?

everything that comes out of my mouth is basically trash (and yes I talk a lot) so it’s tagged #lee trash talk.

how long do you use Tumblr each day?

some ungodly & unhealthy number of hours. Let’s pretend you don’t see my I-need-to-detached-myself-from-interactions-irl-&-otherwise self pls thankyou.

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

I come in peace bUT there was this one blog who had an argument with @xfirebenderx and I because they thought I shouldn’t be hosting 17 days of gyu even after everything was clear.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

feels like guilty tripping ngl but also helps spread awareness over important stuff that needs to be addressed at times

do you like tag games?

Heck yeah I love love love them. It makes you interact with moots and I get to know more about them! I’m sorry if I do those later fjrjdj I always get tagged in a bunch of those at the same time and forget lmao

do you like ask games?

Also, HELL YEAH. Ask games feel more personal and I love them. I love making friends and love interactions with moots on the dash over stuff like this .

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

almost all of my mutuals are famous and known blogs in caratblr, I can’t name a few fjdkxk

 do you have a crush on a mutual?

Not crush-crush but @kwonthefire my wife <3. @jonghan my other half chaotic bestie (boochan)

tags?

@soonhoonsol @jonghan @call-me-horangi @hearttoshu @iiasha @lovehui @heartgyus @chawoongs @choibeomgyus @kwanies @leedk (only if you wanna! Sorry if you’ve been tagged before)

#tagged #tag games #hi val! #hi mare🌛 #hi julia! #hi stevie! #hi anna 🐼 #hi oona🍎 #hi kaith!! #hi dreamy 🌒 #hi cora! #hi lissa! #hi mara!

[ary-se]

Mankai with a roach

some of these are based on irl experiences so i hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it LMAO no braincells were involved in doing this i am so sorry.. also tagging @tsum-uwu-gi for some of the totally whack ideas, tysm 🥰

🐪 the mankai dorm never really experienced having a roach flying all over the place that much, and even if it did, they're immediately dealt with by the moms of the dorm

🐪 that was mostly the case until that one specific day arrived, when the reliable people were gone for different reasons. tsuzuru was in his part-time job, omi was getting groceries, tasuku was a guest actor for another troupe, and no one knows what in the world sakyo was up to

🐪 anyways the first one to notice was azuma, he walked in the bathroom probably to take a dump or something - who knows really lol - when he found himself staring at a roach that was literally on the toilet.

🐪 azuma literally has no idea how or when it got there, but the fact remains that there is no freaking way he is going to use the toilet unless he wants a death sentence. the logical choice was to close the toilet and flush it, but at that moment he kinda lost his shit, both literally and figuratively, and so all he did was act composed as he quickly left the bathroom

🐪 "azu-nee, why do you look so pale?" yuki asked him out of curiosity in the dining room, but azuma is hella smooth so he just laughs it off and acts as if he totally wasn't horrified at all, "it's nothing, you're probably imagining things."

🐪 after that incident, nothing happens for at least an hour. unfortunately, a roach doesn't simply disappear just because you want them to, which was why azuma's efforts of not letting the roach escape from the bathroom were in vain...

🐪 for some apparent reason taichi sometimes has this tendency of holding his own pee before he sprints to the toilet and just bursts in there, so when he ran to the bathroom and immediately let out an ungodly screech, it's all fucking over

🐪 did taichi piss himself? who the hell freaking knows. if he did, mankai would normally either laugh or feel bad for him or both, but at that moment nobody cared about that. what actually mattered was that taichi left the fucking door open so the moment he screamed, the roach already started flying EVERYWHERE

🐪 the one who was nearby the bathroom that time was kazunari. even if kazunari acts like he is scared of roaches, he actually isn't and he is capable of killing a roach in sight. would he help taichi, who has his fly almost open, by killing the roach and call it a day?

🐪 the answer is hell no. killing it doesn't even cross his mind. kazunari thinks this is really hilarious, and if he finds something funny he doesn't do anything to solve the problem. kazunari would basically make things worse by going live on his instablam to record what is happening. in this case, it is all about the unwanted creature and where in the actual world it is gonna land

🐪 gladly, kazu's sanity is still intact that he didn't include taichi in his live for the first few minutes. if kazu did, taichi better say bye bye to his remaining dignity and write his last will so he can finally dig his own grave. people will forever know him as the ugly sobbing, screaming dude in the bathroom with his fly open, and that is honestly the last thing taichi wants to be known for

🐪 sakuya goes to where the chaos is, poor boy was legitimately confused as to why two people are yelling and laughing at the same time. it is normal in mankai but every time it happens, somewhing whack is happening. unfortunately for sakuya, he was completely unaware of the roach flying behind him

🐪 "hi kazunari!" sakuya greets, and the roach lands on the sleeve of his hoodie. sakuya is a pure little bean, he is ALWAYS a pure bean but if kazu was being honest, the current image of sakuya smiling widely while a roach is chilling on his sleeve was really unnerving in its own way

🐪 kazu started to laugh so hard that he is physically unable to explain to sakuya what was happening, and he felt so bad about it. sadly, kazu doesn't have the capability to stop laughing by force, does he? because of the lack of explanation, it took sakuya approximately 7 seconds of obliviousness before he notices

🐪 tenma arrived right after that, and the roach flies off sakuya's hoodie after he jumps from surprise. high and mighty carrot boy is now in for a storm cause the moment he appeared, the roach lands on top of tenma's freaking head out of all places

🐪 "hey guys, what's happening?"

🐪 "there's a flying roach. and it is now on your head." kazunari deadpans. he always tricked tenma when it comes to these kinds of things, but he is serious this time

🐪 tenma literally HUFFS as if he doesn't believe kazunari in the slightest, and tbh you can't blame him cause summer troupe gave him trust issues from their pranks. sorry mister. unlike their old pranks, it is actually real right now... kazu ain't joking, please believe him now

🐪 tenma shrugs and places a hand on his head nonchalantly to ~prove his point~, "you won't fool me again-" he froze the moment he actually felt something moist moving under his hand

🐪 at that moment tenma screamed one hundred fucking times louder than the entire mankai company could, the entire neighborhood would learn their lesson to bring earplugs wherever they go cause his screams are literally ear-splitting

🐪 tenma should say goodbye to his reputation as a k00L b0y 4ct0R😎 that he has maintained for so long cause a lot of people are already watching the live. also rip to the people who were using earphones... at least you have witnessed tenma's most unglorious moment on public. from that moment he is already and permanently a meme and there is no going back

🐪 "STOP SCREAMING HACK!!" yuki yells at him with all of his might, but it was super inaudible because his scream still reigns. the roach lands on the wall, so yuki grabs whatever was on the table. it was banri's fashion magazine, which is fucking useless by the way, because he still can't dress himself up no matter how many fashion magazines he purchases. good job yuki for using it as a sacrifice

🐪 yuki rolled the magazine and repeatedly whacked it to the wall out of pure annoyance so he can kill the roach. in all honesty, the roach would've been dead by now from yuki's wrath, but curse his height cause he can't reach the freaking roach no matter how hard he tried. sorry yuki, your courage and bravery were all in vain

🐪 amidst all the chaos, nobody freaking noticed muku, who was deadass in the living room the whole time. question is, how is muku not aware of what was happening? how did he manage not to hear taichi's and even the mighty tenma's screams? the answer is simple. HE WAS TOO ENGROSSED IN HIS SHOUJO MANGA.

🐪 when yuki was about to finally hit the roach, it flew to the cover of muku's shoujo freaking manga. for an unknown reason, muku doesn't even flinch. HE JUST KEPT ON READING. muku, everyone adores you especially with your love for romance but the kissing scene isn't important right now, PLEASE STOP READING THIS INSTANT

🐪 everyone literally went silent, nobody had the heart to tell muku. they just watched the roach crawl slowly to muku's fingers in suspense. after what seemed like forever, muku closed his book while giggling, but that didn't last forever cause he saw the roach and in a split second he dropped his book without any hesitation

🐪 muku got so freaked out they all felt sorry to the poor boy. he just stared at the shoujo manga that is now on the floor, endlessly mumbling about having to buy a new one because the roach already cursed his book and he will become unlucky and he might pass on the curse to everybody else and they will fail all their upcoming shows and---

🐪 anyways. the roach lands on citron's palms, and citron... surprisingly doesn't freak out. he doesn't care. actually, CITRON'S HAPPY??? he just looks at the roach in fascination and if it were any other creature it would look so adorable. but no, it had to be a ROACH and it's absolutely whack and disgusting. please remember that it is the same roach that came from the freaking toilet. citron, please wash your hands RIGHT NOW.

🐪 "CITRON KILL IT!!"

🐪 "NO, NO! POOR COACH!" citron shakes his head, reluctant to kill it. he kept the roach in his hands so nobody would be able to kill it... he was oddly protective of it and NOBODY KNOWS WHY. THEY ALL DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHY EITHER. citron please stop, what you're doing is making everything way worse. let go of that roach this instant and be hygienic just PLEASE oh my god

🐪 everybody already lost hope on trying to kill the roach, citron and his questionable logic is beyond their comprehension. but they refuse to waste their time fighting him about it because it will fly everywhere and no one wants that... lucky for them, tsuzuru finally arrives the dorms. HE IS EVERYONE'S SALVATION! SOMEONE WHO CAN FINALLY KILL THE ROACH! FREAKING FINALLY,,

🐪 yeah no, nevermind that. tsuzuru was so fucking tired from his part-time job that he just collapses right after he closed the door. please let the poor man sleep, don't even bother on trying to wake him up to kill the roach cause there's no way he is gonna wake up any time soon. cut him some slack. they felt bad for him but it happens way too often so they just left him on the doorway and that's it.

🐪 a few minutes after tsuzuru passed out, banri got back from no one knows where, probably shopping for more animal print clothes... who the hell knows. unlike the others, banri already knew what was happening without asking cause he has been watching kazu's live for like ten minutes already. if he was being honest, the whole thing was making him lose his shit so he tried to go back to the dorms asap to not miss out on anything good

🐪 coincidentally, juza also left their room from his long ass nap to see wtf was happening cause they were being hella noisy. after some explaining, when juza already fully figured out what was going on, he was aboutta kill it, ACTUALLY KILL IT, when banri stopped him. "you get out of this. i am the one killing it."

🐪 "get your own roach for you to kill, settsu"

🐪 curse their competitive asses cause it has reached to the point where they're already starting to beat each other up to death. the goal here is to kill the roach, not each other you dumbasses, get your brains straight please that's not helping anything don't be stupid for once

🐪 the roach flew from citron's hands and everybody screeched but finally, FINALLY AN ADULT walks in. tsumugi went in the dorm from the garden with a bottle of pesticide in his hand. once everybody noticed what he was holding, they were all getting panicky so they angrily screamed at him to spray it to the roach, it was too chaotic

🐪 tsumugi was so confused??? why was everybody angry at him?? what did he do to deserve this?? he doesn't actually think his pesticide works on roaches, but it was probably better if he stays silent about it since everyone will not listen and would force him to spray it on the roach anyways, what's the point

🐪 and so he did. at first, the roach stopped moving, so they assumed it was already dead. tsumugi then sprayed a lot more to make sure it actually was dead and everybody collectively sighed in relief. finally the fiasco is over. everyome can go back to their normal lives before this fucking happened

🐪 or not. the ROACH DEADASS FLEW AGAIN AND THEY ALL PANICKED. funny enough tsumugi calmly explained amidst all that, and it turns out tsumugi's pesticide was weak, and to top it all off it was water-based so it had no freaking effect on the roach whatsoever. too bad, so much for everybody getting false hope, huh. they wanna blame tsumugi for not saying anything before spraying but it is also their fault for getting worked up so whatever

🐪 itaru arrives from work, and one quick glance on what everyone was yelling about tells him that he refuses to participate in this crap. give him a freaking break please. he was dealing with work and you're telling him that he has to put up with this, too? hell fuckin no. he manages to quickly escape to his room to catch up on his games and it is a good thing that no one really noticed. they're too busy screeching every time the roach just flies outta nowhere.

🐪 masumi was deadass watching them from the sidelines. he could tell them to open the windows and just wait for the roach to fly outside so they can get it over with and call it a day. what a joke though, masumi giving helpful tips so everyone can calm down? yeah right haha no. he doesn't want to waste his energy on doing that even if their noise was actually getting into his nerves, so the whole duration he stays silent while he watches them lose their shit

🐪 this is one of the moments where they all legitimately wished misumi was here right now. him blabbing about triangles every second made them think that the roach kind of looks like a triangle when its wings are out. misumi what did you do to them to make them think this way?? did you make them do the triangle calisthenics or cathletics or whatever the heck that is??

🐪 knowing misumi, he can catch the roach in a matter of seconds. so where in the world is misumi? he is out again for his daily triangle hunting, obviously. come back, misumi... literally everything would be over in a flash if misumi decided to stay in the dorms today

🐪 despite this, for some apparent reason homare manages to find inspiration in all this. look, mister. the dorm is a fucking chaos. actual chaos. kazunari is somehow still live on instablam, wheezing so hard like he is gonna die any second now. the scene is literally just teenage boys screaming and running all over the place. two of said teenage boys are beating each other up... and one (1), ONE roach flies on top of everything, still fucking alive. EXACTLY WHAT PART OF THAT MAKES YOU FEEL INSPIRED HUH HOMARE!!! SPEAK UP!!!

🐪 the noise levels of mankai dorm is practically a headache at this point, if sakyo was here his boomer brain would be having a migraine that would be worth a week of pure pain and agony. for some reason, hisoka, who is on the sofa in the living room, literally in the MIDDLE OF THE CHAOS, just sleeps through it all.

🐪 how does he do that? just what kind of marshmallows does he eat?? do they permanently damage a person's hearing?? no matter how many times they woke hisoka up, he doesn't budge. what the actual fuck. and tsuzuru is still sleeping in the freaking doorway. at this point they could cuddle each other for all they want until they fucking die cause no amount of noise is gonna wake them up from their eternal slumber

🐪 after what seemed like forever, sakyo arrived and everybody immediately went silent. they stopped what they were doing except kazu, who was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave, nobody wants to answer that right now. he is still live on instablam. even the live chat went silent.

🐪 sakyo still doesn't know what was happening but he knows it is BAD news, so he glared right at kazunari's camera and the last moments before the live ended was sakyo angrily stomping his way to kazunari and the screen blacked out

🐪 after learning that everything was only caused by a roach, sakyo got so mad that he managed to snatch a flip flop out of nowhere and killed the roach until it was completely crushed. it was safe to say everybody felt bad to the roach despite being the cause of everything. by the way, whose flip flop was that? nobody knows.

🐪 tasuku, misumi and omi arrived in the dorms while sakyo was lecturing everyone, and they still got dragged in without knowing what in the world happened. please pray for these poor souls they have to deal with his yelling without even being a part of it.

🐪 omi just bought groceries for dinner, he didn't waste his time to do that just to have no dinner tonight oh my god please give this man a break from everyone's bullcrap. tasuku's role in the other company's play was some random teen whose parents were mad at him for doing shit. he doesn't have to deal with sakyo actually getting mad too please let this man live in peace. and misumi? he isn't happy that he got dragged in, too. this is not very sankaku of you, sakyo

🐪 "MIYOSHI, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RECORD THE WHOLE THING? YOU'RE RUINING THE COMPANY'S IMAGE. ALSO THE BOTH OF YOU FIGHTING YADDA YADDA YADDA"

🐪 the lecture lasted for 5 hours and nobody ate dinner that night. everybody was so tired after that. nobody was allowed to speak and if someone mutters, sakyo will yell at them next. can sakyo still lecture you for another 5 hours even after that long ass session? unfortunately yes.

🐪 everybody was banned from eating meals the next day. the resident moms reached an agreement that at least one of them always stays in the mankai dorm so this never EVER happens again. once is enough, they do not need another fiasco like this one.

🐪 oh and was it mentioned that kazunari doesn't have a phone for a solid month? cause that happened, sakyo banned him. you bet he managed to live a phoneless life by logging on his social media platforms on other people's phones without sakyo knowing,, not really the definition of "phoneless" if you ask him..

#a3! #a3! act! addict! actors! #act! addict! actors! #a3! actor training game #sakuma sakuya #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #citron #tenma sumeragi #yuki rurikawa #muku sakisaka #misumi ikaruga #kazunari miyoshi #banri settsu #juza hyodo #taichi nanao #omi fushimi #sakyo furuichi #tsumugi tsukioka #tasuku takato #hisoka mikage #homare arisugawa #azuma yukishiro

[thefanficmonster]

This idea just popped in my head while I was listening to music and staring at my ceiling (istg that’s when all good ideas come along)

But what if corpse had a S/O who rides a motorcycle! Like, do you reckon they’d go on rides at night through the city or like... idk just do whatever with this idea lmao

Love your writing tho xx

You, my dear Anon, will be getting headcanons for this amazing dear of yours

Enjoy ♥

- Corpse has an appreciation for motorcycles but wouldn’t ride on one

- Especially not one operated by you

- You are a very reckless, carefree person in general, that’s his reasoning as to why

- However, when behind a wheel or with your hands on the handlebars, you are stone-faced and focused

- Corpse refuses to believe that tho

- Coming back from midnight rides around the city at some ungodly hour to find Corpse awake, jotting down lyrics for future songs

- “How was the ride? Had fun?”

- “You’d know if you accompanied me”

- After months of this exchange, it’s only logical that he’d cave

- And he did

- The first ride you took him on was a quiet road away from the city streets

- Poor baby was mortified but was desperately trying to play cool the whole time

- “You won’t kill us, right?”

- “On accident, definitely not. I’m not accident-prone. On purpose tho...”

- His arms were tightly wrapped around your waist the whole time, his helmet clad head resting between your shoulder blades, squeezing his eyes shut

- “See, that wasn’t so bad”

- “We’re not moving?“

- “Nope and haven’t been for five minutes now”

- Thankfully, the situation was quick to progress

- This was a solid two and a half months ago and Corpse is a lot more comfortable with accompanying you on rides

- Hell, he even showed some interest of riding himself

- He helped you name your bike “Ray” - after Rae but also because of its speed

- You have matching helmets though you rarely wear them

- Shame on you for not being safer on your escapades

- Truth be told, the two of you couldn’t possibly be safer than when you are in control of the bike

- In the meantime, you’re looking into motorcycles you can buy Corpse for your three year anniversary

#ask #vy's inbox

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Word Prompt #14

Word: Octopus (suggested by @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt!) WIP: Thriving series CW: Oh, everything. Blood, tentacles, violence, fluids, guns. All of it. Word Count: 1,727 Additional Notes: I saw the word and I had to get weird. I could’ve gone completely normal and written a cute little light-AU fluff piece about Warren taking Thrive to an aquarium or seeing an octopus in the ocean on Earth but no. It’s fucking balls to the wall in the first half lmao.

Also it should be noted that I decided for no reason to set this in the timeline of Destiny. So Thrive and Warren are still just mutually pining at this point.

***

It hit them both at the same time. Thrive, repairing a form suit in the corner of the medical room, and Warren patching up a minor laceration on his thumb from an improperly handled utensil—they looked up in unison as a guttural scream made its way through every corridor of the L2 and into their ears.

“Oh, Christ,” Warren muttered. “If that’s an eliyi....”

“That was Armatax,” Thrive said, abandoning the form suit and striding out to the room.

Warren secured the bandage around his thumb and followed, anxiety already through the roof. “Whatever the hell could make Armatax scream like that is guaranteed to kill us and I’m just not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment right now, Thrive....”

They traced the continuing shouts to the loading bay, and when the door remained closed upon them arriving, his shoulders tensed. More screams joined in, this time from Sussa, and the struggle ramped itself up to max level. Weapons fire and brute-force physical assault from what sounded like multiple sources.

Thrive waved the door open and his arm shot out to keep Warren back as he himself had to reel away from the loading bay to process the sight.

An enormous creature with tentacles—normal tentacles, sans sharp blade bits, but what was “normal” when it came to tentacles, anyway?—and a bulbous orange head swiping at Armatax and Sussa, whipping an appendage around the nuaclan’s gun and tossing it through the open door. The capsule sat upended in the farthest corner, shattered electric panels sparking and smoking around it. Rubbery flesh slapping the floors, the walls, every surface it could reach. Low-hertz growling vibrating the air.

Warren waited for Thrive to say something, but he seemed to be stunned and confused into silence.

“We wouldn’t be completely upset if you decided to step in,” Sussa yelled, taking a running leap onto the squishy head of the octopus-creature. She socked it directly on of its several protruding eyeballs and three tentacles curled into his body, giving Armatax a chance to dive for cover. “This is kinda your fault, after all!”

Thrive threw a barrier in front of himself and Warren right as a tentacle snapped toward them, and the impact resulted in a wet squelch. Warren grimaced.

“How is this Thrive’s fault?” Warren shouted. “Where did this even come fro—oh what the fuck.”

Thrive had caught another tentacle in his hand and ripped it from the octopus’ body, sending a wave of thin blood over the entire floor. It sprayed everywhere, splashing clean white surfaces with surprising yolk-colored fluids and getting it all over Armatax and Sussa.

Warren watched Thrive hold the limb up and stare at it. “Look, I know I can contribute practically nothing to whatever ungodly abomination is happening right now, but you need to go in there and...oh no. No. No, no, no, no, no—”

He’d realized what was about to happen seconds before it did, and he turned toward the wall, covering his head with his arms right in time to avoid the amber light encapsulating Thrive and shifting his form. A thick tentacle wrapped itself around Warren’s torso and he glanced down to witness it stretching and tightening across his ribs.

“...Huh.”

Thrive lifted him off his feet and bowled him down the hall away from the loading bay.

Warren scrambled to his feet and sprinted for the door, running headlong into it when it slid closed and automatically locked. Warren pounded the metal with his fists. “That’s really not what I meant and I think you know that!”

A fist-sized dent punched its way into the door and Warren jumped back. He listened for a minute, heart pounding, more gunfire popping off. The unmistakable connecting of fists to octopus flesh, and octopus flesh to octopus flesh, and the smell of said flesh burning wafted into Warren’s face.

“This is gonna give me nightmares,” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “If you open that door as an octopus I’m aiming this ship in the direction of Earth and shooting myself out of the airlock.”

The fight continued for possibly hours. Warren was about to attempt sliding the door open himself when it blasted off its track and sent him sliding down the length of the hall again. When he stopped spinning he kicked the door away from himself and looked at the loading bay.

The octopus was wedged in the doorway, tentacles lolling over the floor slickened with its own blood. Another tentacle slithered into view, getting a hold of the body and gently tugging it back into the room, succeeded by a spark of amber illuminating the space behind it.

Warren stayed put. “Guys....”

Sussa, still dripping with thin but oddly goopy blood, emerged from the room and wiped it from her eyes. Armatax followed, less drenched but with his feather-like hair flattened to his skull. He spun the barrel of his gun and tucked it back in its holster.

“We good?” Warren asked, standing once more. “Everyone okay?”

“Yes,” Thrive said, back in human form and moving around the downed octopus. He combed his fingers through his own hair to tame it, out of breath, form suit covered in patches of yellow. “Let’s talk.”

The four of them filtered into the conference room around the corner and Warren perched himself onto the table. Thrive entered last, locking the door behind him, then whirled around to aim narrowed eyes at Sussa.

“Explain.”

“I’m saying!” Warren interjected. “Are you telling me that he somehow smuggled a giant alien octopus onto the L2 without any of us knowing? Does that sound like him? I think I would’ve noticed considering....” Considering he’d been with Thrive practically every second of every day for the past few weeks, but he decided against mentioning that fact.

Sussa and Armatax exchanged grim expressions. “Do you recall going to Rotanga and bringing a small glass ball full of green water onboard a couple of weeks ago?” she asked Thrive, venom in her voice.

Warren’s face fell into instant regret, and he pressed his lips together into a line, turning a wide-eyed stare onto Thrive.

Thrive, on the other hand, refused to crack his stoic façade. “...Perhaps.”

“Do you happen to know what was in that small glass ball full of green water from Rotanga?”

Warren, who was with Thrive when he bought the small glass ball full of green water from Rotanga, determined his fingernails were suddenly much more fascinating than this conversation. “...Was it an egg—”

“It was an egg!” Sussa exclaimed. “A microscopic fertilized egg not from Rotanga at all, but from the Lagisa Faction of Holeph!”

“Their oceans are rife with dangerous deep-sea creatures,” Thrive helpfully supplied for Warren’s sake. “I suppose this was...a misjudgment on my part.”

“I’m a little concerned,” Sussa said, pinching the bridge of her nose, which squeaked as she touched it due to the sliminess. “This is not the kind of mistake I’m used to you making, Orthrive’poliea.”

Armatax gestured to him. “Told you. They are both dumb.”

“You’re normally very careful about what you keep around us and where everything comes from,” Sussa continued. “I don’t understand how something like this could’ve slipped past you. Can you walk me through your thought process when you were—”

Warren glanced once more at Thrive’s face, and though he remained the outward picture of calm and blank, he could see a swirl of confusion and shame in his eyes. He must’ve been keeping Sussa out of his head because she didn’t notice or mention this at all.

“It’s actually my fault,” Warren interrupted. “I liked the way the water looked in the glass so I kinda peer pressured him into buying it for me. I don’t think I gave him the chance to apply critical thinking.”

Sussa’s attention fell onto him. She paused for too long. “You didn’t let him do his job?”

Warren cleared his throat. “I take full responsibility. I’m sorry.”

He knew she didn’t buy it. But he didn’t know how to keep her from hearing his thoughts, so all he could do was go over the lyrics to one of his favorite songs over and over to prevent giving himself away.

The sharp stink of the room settled on them like a fog and Sussa waved her hands dismissively. “Look...I need to clean and sanitize myself for four hours so this subject is officially dropped for now.”

She and Armatax left Thrive and Warren alone.

“That was unnecessary,” Thrive said at length.

“Didn’t see you trying to stop me,” Warren shot, leaning back onto his hands.

Thrive strolled into the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “You know the real reason this all happened, don’t you?”

Warren shrugged. “Because you made a very normal and natural error in judgment?”

“Yes.” Thrive stopped and turned to him. “Because my capacity for perception either heightens beyond what I ever could’ve imagined or seems to disappear entirely whenever I’m around you.”

Warren’s pulse quickened. “You gonna send me home for that?”

To his shock, Thrive smiled and glanced away. “No. And...perhaps I made another mistake in letting you take the fall for me again.”

“Well, you didn’t let me take the fall the first time. I did that very much on my own.” Warren watched him pace the room some more. “And I saw the embarrassment in your face. Sure, Sussa wasn’t exactly being harsh or even wrong, but I couldn’t let you take that from her.”

Thrive took a deep breath. “You’re often quite gifted at reading me.”

Warren allowed his response to hang in the air.

Almost as if noticing it for the first time, Thrive swept his fingers through a spot of octopus gunk on the stomach of his form suit. He paced back to the door. “I should rid myself of the evidence as well.”

“So you now have colossal alien octopus in the repertoire of forms you can take, huh,” Warren mused. “It’s just...gonna be like that for the rest of your life.”

“Apparently so. Not something I anticipated happening today.”

“What’re we gonna do with the dead one in the loading bay?”

“Ah,” Thrive chirped as he stepped over the threshold. “It’s not dead.”

The door swished shut on the color draining out of Warren’s face.

#word prompt #lmao @ me forgetting to add the tag

[aleximedicusa]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥  𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲  𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞  &  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

Repost,  don’t  reblog.  Bold  what  applies.  Strikethrough  what  does  not.  Italicize  what  only  applies  sometimes.  Elaborate  on  any  points  you’d  like  with  a  *.

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬  𝐨𝐟  𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲  /  𝐡𝐨𝐰  𝐢  𝐝𝐨  𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬

i  don’t  | i  just  do  whatever  is  on  my  dash  when  i’m  online  |  mainly  asks  | i  do  little  short  things  mostly  | i  do  my  threads  on  discord |  long  running  threads  that  slowly  build  upon  the  muses

* these days, i don’t have a lot of mental energy for writing long things. if it’s something i’m super invested in, i might go longer, but i really prefer to keep things short these days.

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

wing  it |  get  a  general  idea  ooc  and  then  run  with  it  &  plot  further  if  need  be | long  expansive  thought  out  story  arcs

* i really, really prefer to plot. i do not have much interest in threads that have a basic setup of ‘they met at a ball’ or ‘they’re lewis’ patient.’ those can be fine if we plot them, but i feel that a lot of threads that start with a ‘winging it’ premise are just... a little heartless and boring. i’m much more invested if we plot. 

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬  𝐢  𝐝𝐨  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫

oneliners  only | whatever  dash  shenanigans  i’m  online  for | para  or  multi para | literal  novels

* not a huge fan of one liners, myself. and again, i have trouble with longer stuff these days. i prefer one paragraph / two paragraph replies at the moment. 

𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲  𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬  &  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲  &  𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬

i  lose  threads  all  the  time  &  don’t  usually  get  back  to  them  |  i  tend  to  lose  threads  but  please  tell  me  if  i  have  and  i’ll  reply  | i  drop  threads  pretty  easily  | i’m  really  slow  but  i  will  get  back  to  you  |  i  reply  on  a  schedule/queue  (specify  if  you’d  like)  | i  usually  reply  within  a  week  | i  reply  every  day | i  reply  almost  instantly

* yeah, it depends. i’m kind of like... if i don’t reply immediately, i will not reply for a month. i know it annoys some people to get a thread back immediately when they took a week to reply, but i’m sorry, that’s how my dumb goblin brain works. gotta do it right away or it won’t happen. i’m pretty bad about dropping replies :( i don’t mean to, i just... don’t have a lot of muse for some. 

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜  𝐨𝐫  𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥  𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

i  don’t  do  these  ships  (specify  reason  if  you  would  like)  |  i’m  not  against  them  happening  but  it  is  not  the  main  point  of  my  blog | ships  will  have  to  be  super  slow  burn  &  discussed  a  lot  ooc,  super  chemistry  based  (specify  reason  if  you’d  like) | i  love  doing  ships,  hmu i  probably  already  ship  it  just  ask  |  i  ship  really  quickly | i  autoship  or  ship  within  a  few  interactions  | i  mainly  rp  for  the  cute  ship  fluff  or  smut

* nope. lewis’ long term relationship with peter is too huge in his storyline. there is no lewis without peter. and since he only had one sexual experience before he got with peter, it just doesn’t make sense. besides, i don’t... really like writing ships? i’m not a romance person. i don’t enjoy it in media, i don’t enjoy writing it that much. lewis and peter are very much an exception for me.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

i  do  not  do  smut  at  all | i’m  very  selective  about  it |  i  only  do  it  on  a  separate  (blog/discord/specify  here)  | i  mainly  only  do  asks  relating  to  nsfw  headcanons  on  sundays | i  write  it  a  medium  amount  |  i  write  it  all  the  time  and  love  to  | i  am  comfortable  with  foreplay  and  fade-to-blacks but  nothing  further

* not on here, since peter’s writer doesn’t have an rp blog. we sometimes write smut on discord, but on this blog, it will just be confined to nsfw headcanons. 

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞  𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

mornings  8-10  |  midday  11-1 | afternoon  2-5 |  evenings  6-8  |  night  9-12 |  ungodly  hours  of  the  day | 1-onwards

* lmao at the moment i’m not working and i’m just anxiously babysitting my email waiting for a response to my phd application, so i’m always on here. i sometimes don’t post that much, but i do lurk on the dash. i see all. 

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲  𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞

super  slow  and  sporadic,  like  once  a  month  or  so |  slow  and  sporadic  week  long  gaps  between  activity  |  bi-weeklyish  activity  | weekly  activity  | daily  activity  |  i’m  online  nearly  all  the  time

* see the above answer.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

i  don’t  do  starter  calls  | i  want  to  do  starter  calls  but  often  don’t  have  time |  i  do  selective  calls  |  i  don’t  do  calls,  but  always  feel  free  to  ask  me  for  one!  | i  do  starter  calls rarely  /  regularly /  often

* like i said, i don’t like doing threads that are based on ‘let’s just wing it and see what happens,’ so i usually do, like... ‘like this and i’ll come plot with you and we can figure out who should write the starter’ calls.

𝐚𝐮𝐬

i  don’t  do  aus  |  my  blog  is  an  au  but  outside  of  that  i  don’t  do  them  |  i  sometimes  do  them  but  only  with  a  lot  of  plotting | i  have  a  couple  of  aus  already  feel  free  to  request  them  |  i  have  aus  coming  out  of  my  ears  please  interact  with  them | i  love  making  aus  hmu  to  plot  if  you  think  of  one  | there  are  some  aus  i  won’t  do

* i do like my bbc ghosts au and my vampyr au, but i don’t want those to take over lewis’ main verse. his main verse is 1820s and i really want most interactions to take place then. i can shift him back to the 1700s or write him later in life in the mid-1800s, but i really, really prefer 1820s or 1830s. 

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬

i  don’t  do  crossovers | i’m  selective  with  crossovers  | i  love  crossovers

* again, same as the above. i’m just a nerd, let me use lewis to nerd out about 1820s medical history. 

#( * reference. ) #idk if anyone will read this but

[voiceless-terror]

26 for tim and jon?

This is for Prompt 26 on Physical Affection: Touching Feet and Immediately Screaming and Recoiling. I’m so glad you prompted this lmao, especially with Jon and Tim. Can be read as either Jon/Tim or platonic, whichever you prefer. This takes place pre-canon.  So here you go, hope you enjoy!

Tim and Jon wind up in bed together. Somehow this ends in a bloody nose. 

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains of Tim’s bedroom, its hazy rays warming his skin as he turned away from the window. They’d all gone out for a drink last night after a long day spent researching; Sasha had gone home at a reasonable hour, but he had convinced Jon to stay for a few more rounds. It wasn’t particularly hard as the man couldn’t hold a glass of wine to save his life. They stumbled home at some ungodly hour and collapsed into bed. Tim vaguely recalled some singing involved.

His head had the tell-tale ache of too much liquor too fast as he rubbed his face back into the pillow. He felt the minute shifting of a body next to his; Jon must have stirred at some point. 

“Go back t’sleep,” he mumbled, moving to wrap his arms around the man and trap him in the bed. But Jon’s shoulders felt weirdly knobby and not-right, and when he nuzzled his face into the back of Jon’s hair it felt weird and woolly and poke-y. Tim blinked his eyes open in confusion.

It was in fact not Jon’s hair at all. It was thick, woolen socks. Socks that were on feet. Feet that Tim currently had his face smashed into.

Tim did what any normal person would do in this situation- he screamed. And began to thrash his limbs around to get away from the offensive appendages. 

Several things happened at once. One: Jon began to scream and thrash from his inexplicable place at the bottom of the bed in response to Tim’s screaming and thrashing. Two: Tim’s knee made contact with what was either Jon’s face or groin, judging by the sound he made. Three: Tim was thrown off the bed with a surprising amount of force and was currently tangled in his sheets, incapable of getting up.

“What the fuck, Jon?” he shrieked, blinking away the shock. Jon’s head popped out from under the covers, hair mussed and nose bleeding prodigiously onto Tim’s bed.

“You assaulted me with your knee.” Jon sputtered nasally as he clutched at his face, using Tim’s blanket to stifle the bleeding.

“You assaulted me with your feet!”

“I didn’t touch you, at all-”

“Stop- stop using my blanket! Christ, I’ll grab a napkin or something-” Tim tripped out of the bedroom, grabbing at a roll of paper towels and ripping some off to pass to Jon who snatched it out of his hand. They both took a moment to glare at each other- Tim in last night’s clothes with a sheet still wrapped around his ankle and Jon tucked into the corner of the bed, prickly and bleeding- before Tim broke, starting a laugh that soon turned uproarious as Jon chuckled along.

“Seriously though, what the fuck were you doing at the other end of the bed?”

“You snore! Your face was millimeters from mine!” Jon sniffled into his paper towel.

“Not that badly! You’ve never complained before.”

“Do you remember eating an entire plate of onion rings last night?” Jon asked pointedly. “And does it feel like you brushed your teeth?”

Tim paused for a moment in consideration; he had, in fact, ordered a plate of onion rings for the table and subsequently demolished them by himself. And no, he did not brush his teeth upon returning home.

“Okay, valid.”

When Jon walked in on Monday, Sasha gasped at the bruises that littered his face. Before she could ask Tim slung an arm around his shoulder and winked.

“Bar fight. You should see the other guy!”

#tma #my writing #jonathan sims #tim stoker #promptingyou #jontim #the magnus archives #asks #prompts

[dweetwise]

day 16: bad day

prompt from: whumptober (tho i misread the title and can’t post to the challenge but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i still like it) pairing: felix x ace notes: felix’s day goes from bad to neutral to Nice (tm). also everyone except david is a shitty person in this lmao. warnings: implied emotional abuse, implied cheating, threat of violence word count: 2900

It was official; this was the worst day of Felix’s life.

It shouldn’t have been. He should have been happy, maybe a little shocked and nervous, but definitely excited. Not anxious, scared and downright spiteful like he felt right now.

His girlfriend was pregnant. They hadn’t been trying, but she was excited to tell him regardless, already thinking of baby names and giving Felix no room to voice any of his doubts. He knew this was what he claimed he’d always wanted, what he knew his parents wanted for him, to continue the family name since he was the last of his line.

He took another swig of the foul-tasting beer and wondered if she’d done it on purpose. She’d been not-so-subtly hinting at marriage for months, and Felix had always brushed her off. Maybe this was her taking matters into her own hands, forcing Felix to commit to her or drag down both his family name and professional image for having a child out of wedlock.

He didn’t want to marry her because she always seemed way more fond of his money than Felix himself, and he didn’t want to have kids because…

Well. He hated children.

He probably should have brought up that particular piece of information sooner, but he wasn’t sure it would have even made a difference. Not to his parents, not to his girlfriend, and certainly not to the ungodly amount of distant relatives and business associates who kept bugging him about settling down and starting a family.

Because, for some reason, dedicating the last twenty years of his life to doing what other people wanted him to do wasn’t enough.

He’d stupidly believed it would get better. That the twelve-hour work days and countless all-nighters on uninspiring projects would eventually pay off, when in reality all it had lead to were more boring projects. He’d thought buying his girlfriend expensive gifts and taking her on weekly dates followed by the obligatory weekly sex would make them fall in love, but instead she was pushing him into commitments he wasn’t ready for.

He downed the rest of the beer and tried to numb out the suffocating feeling of being trapped. He was doomed to keep living his shitty life exactly the way others dictated, and there was nothing he could do to change his fate.

Maybe that’s why he’d chosen this bar. It wasn’t the usual high-end, after-hour cocktail bar next to his office where everyone would recognize him. It was a shitty sports bar owned and frequented by foreigners, where nobody would approach him to congratulate him on the “good news” after his girlfriend e-mailed his entire contacts list in her excitement.

He debated getting another beer, maybe finally being able to pick one that didn’t taste like piss. God, how sad was his life that the biggest act of rebellion he could come up with was getting drunk on cheap beer in a bad part of town?

Felix clutched the glass tighter in his hand, frustrated at his life but also at himself, how he was unable to do anything but play right into everyone else’s plans. Fuck, he needed to do something different, something he’d never even considered would be in the realm of possibilities for him. But what?

He looked around the bar, seeing a group of backpackers animatedly chatting in what sounded like Spanish. He could go travelling, but that wouldn’t accomplish much except buy him a little bit of time. Not to mention his girlfriend would guilt him until he let her come along.

He could always get blackout drunk and puke his guts out in the bathroom. Maybe get into a bar fight. Try to get his hands on some drugs. Hire a prostitute.

Unfortunately none of those things seemed even remotely more thrilling than the bland beer he’d been drinking the entire night.

Felix sighed and buried his face into his hands. For forty years, he’d kept telling himself he wasn’t like everyone else, that he’d do something meaningful in his life, that he was a risk taker and not a conformer.

And he still would; he just didn’t know what. If he only got a sign—

The door to the bar slammed open and Felix snapped his head up from the noise, his table rattling from the impact of the door hitting the wall.

There was a man, his grey hair and cheap suit both wet from the autumn rain, clutching something under his arm while panting like he’d just run a half marathon. He hurried to close the door, and Felix didn’t mean to stare, but it was the most exciting thing to happen all night.

The man caught Felix’s eye and gave a quick grin.

“You saw nothing,” he offered before running up to the bar.

“Don’t tell me ya fuckin’—” the bartender started, clear annoyance on his features.

“Oops, gotta run, I was never here!” the man offered good-naturedly before hopping over the bar and disappearing into the back.

“Ace for fuck’s sake!” the bartender cursed, yelling at the doorway to what had to be a back room or kitchen. Still, he made no move to follow him, instead sighing in agitation and aggressively started cleaning a couple of pint glasses.

Felix realized three things at once; one, the new customer screamed trouble. Two, he clearly knew the bartender. And three, Felix was intrigued.

He made his way to the bar with his empty glass, placing a ten euro bill on the worn wood that earned him a fresh glass of beer in only a couple of seconds. He appreciated that the bartender hadn’t tried to make small talk during the entire evening, and lamented the fact that he had to break the silence.

“Who is your friend?” Felix asked, trying to ignore the self-consciousness that always surfaced when he had to subject the world to his extremely obvious German accent.

“'Friend' is a strong word,” the bartender huffed in annoyance, though it seemed to be directed at the person they were talking about and not Felix. “'A pest who keeps comin' back like a boomerang no matter how many times I kick 'im out' sounds more fitting.”

Felix hummed in acknowledgement and sipped at his beer, deciding to sit down at the bar instead of returning to his table.

“He seems interesting,” Felix mused, trying to fish more information about the man.

Instead of humoring him, the bartender stopped cleaning the glasses and gave him an incredulous stare.

“You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” he deadpanned. “The hell's a guy like you see in a rat like 'im?”

“That wasn't what I meant,” Felix insisted, staring at his glass in embarrassment. He was just curious, he wasn't… interested, at least not that way. God, why could he never communicate properly? This is why he never tried anything new.

He heard the bartender sigh long and loud, like this wasn't the first time he'd had to put up with a similar situation.

“Look mate, whatever yer thinkin', don't,” he offered, like that was supposed to help Felix at all. “Guy's way more trouble than 'es worth, an' he sure as hell ain't here to make friends.”

Felix didn't have time to reply, not that he even knew what he would have said, before the door slammed open once again and heavy footsteps stomped into the bar.

“Oi!” the bartender shouted in annoyance. “Don't go draggin' mud into my bar!"

“Where is he?” one of the new patrons demanded in German, and his voice was threatening enough to make Felix glance over his shoulder at the new arrivals.

He saw a group of four men that looked like bad news, their cheap clothing and poorly made tattoos making Felix think of some lowly local gang.

“Read the sign, mate,” the bartender scoffed, pointing at a metal plaque in the style of a road sign that said ‘Service in English only’.

“What a fucking moron,” one of the thugs commented, not even attempting to switch languages.

“We know he's here!” the man at the front barked out and proceeded to slam a fist against the bar.

“I got no bloody clue what yer talkin' about!” the bartender claimed. “But if yer gonna come to my bar an' start a fight, so help me—”

"Let's just beat him up!” one of the men was getting impatient.

“For the last time, where is he!?” one of the thugs surged forward and grabbed the bartender by his collar.

“You've got the fuckin' wrong place, I dun know shit about what ya even want!” the bartender, to his credit, didn't even bat an eye. Then again, it looked like he could easily hold his own in a fight.

Felix heard a gasp and noticed one of the Spanish kids cower closer to the corner they were sitting in, observing the scene with fear in her eyes.

The tension in the air seemed like it was about to snap, and instead of making Felix want to bolt into the safety of his mansion, it made his adrenaline start pumping.

This was what he needed. A thrill.

“You heard the man,” Felix raised his voice, finally turning to address the group. “You're in the wrong place.”

“Shut the fuck up, this doesn't involve you!” one of them eloquently responded.

“It started involving me when you barged in and ruined my night,” Felix explained calmly despite feeling his palms start sweating from nervousness, years of faking an unphased persona finally coming to use.

“Okay, the fuck's your problem!?” the guy who seemed to be the leader demanded, finally letting go of the bartender in favor of looming over Felix threateningly.

“I said,” he emphasized, slowly lifting his pint glass to take a sip of his drink and flash his ring with the family insignia. “You've got the wrong place.”

There was a moment of silence when all Felix heard was his own heart beating in his ears, keeping his expression neutral and looking at the thugs like they were nothing more than a fleck of dirt on his expensive suit. Hopefully, they'd recognize the symbol, even if the Richters hadn’t been involved in the local underworld for years, not after the disappearance of his parents.

“The fuck is he on about?” one of the men, who looked to be the youngest, demanded. “Let's just beat them both up and—”

“Shut up,” the leader barked, glancing at Felix fleetingly. “We seem to have gotten lost on the way.”

Felix couldn’t help the smug smile.

“Happens to the best of us,” he said.

The group slowly started slinking out of the bar without further complaints, with Felix's eyes following them the entire time as if daring them to protest.

“Sorry for bother,” one of them even offered to the bartender in questionable English before the door closed after them.

“I'll be damned,” the bartender huffed and crossed his arms, giving Felix a look that could generously be described as somewhat impressed. Felix offered a shaky smile in return before he focused all his attention on staring at the surface of the bar and trying not to tremble from fear as the adrenaline left his body. He hoped it wasn’t obvious he was taking unnecessarily deep breaths and that cold sweat was running down his back under the suit.

That had been the most idiotic thing he had ever done. It was stupid, it was dangerous, and unnecessary and—

And he'd never felt such a rush of absolute victory before.

There was a thud as a beer was placed in front of him, and he glanced up to see the bartender smirking at him.

“It's on the house,” he said in a heavily accented but otherwise fluent German.

Well. It seemed this night was just full of surprises.

Soon after, Felix found himself sitting in a corner booth nursing his two beers. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt good, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol buzzing in his system.

He’d proved to himself that he had balls. He was one wrong move away from ending up in a bar fight, and even that thought didn't make him cower in fear like it would have before. Despite never being in a fight before, his confidence was soaring, and he liked to imagine him and the bartender could have easily taken the four thugs.

And then his night only got better as a handsome stranger slid down into the opposite side of the booth.

“So, King told me you saved my ass just now,” the man said with a charming smile, casually leaning closer and propping his chin up on his elbow like they were old friends catching up.

It took Felix longer than he'd like to recognize the man as the one that caught his attention earlier. Without the baseball cap, sunglasses and cheap suit jacket, he cleaned up rather well, dressed in a simple light pink button-up and jeans. Slightly messy, silver hair was a stark contrast to the mischievous brown eyes and almost youthful, cocky smirk on his face.

Felix suddenly realized why the bartender thought he was interested in more than just the man's colorful personality.

“I suppose that's true,” Felix said after a way longer silence than was socially acceptable, but his companion was courteous not to mention anything.

“Well, whether you meant to or not, you have my thanks!” the man grinned good-naturedly. “I would have bought you a beer, but I see David's already got you covered,” he added, gesturing to the two pints where Felix was still working through his first.

“Yes, it's…” Felix started, debating whether he should be honest about his distaste for the drink or not. Fuck it, drunk and brave had worked earlier. “A shame it doesn't make it taste any better.”

The man barked out a laugh and Felix smiled at the success of his joke.

“I know, right?” his companion snickered. “I keep telling him to mix it up, maybe get some nice wines too, but he insists on importing that awful stuff the Brits call beer.”

Felix smiled politely, not knowing what to add to the statement. Regardless of what the bartender—David?—had claimed before, the two definitely seemed to be friends.

“I'm sorry, where are my manners!” the man suddenly seemed to realize, offering his hand over the table. “I'm Ace.”

“Felix,” Felix replied, returning the handshake firmly, like his father and numerous career coaches had taught him.

“So, Felix,” Ace continued, retracting his hand but leaning over the table even further. “What brings you here? I think I'd remember seeing someone like you before.”

Was that flirting? It had been so long since anyone had showed any interest in Felix, he couldn’t even recognize what was just casual conversation, too used to business world small talk about the stock market and someone's secretary's family.

“I needed a change,” Felix said, before realizing he probably shouldn't be revealing too much. “—of scenery,” he hastily added.

Ace regarded him silently for a few heartbeats and Felix gulped down some beer to try not to fret under the scrutinizing gaze.

“Scenery, huh?" Ace hummed. "Seen anything you like so far?”

Okay, that had to be flirting. Right? Felix stared at Ace's face, but the other wasn’t giving anything away. And Felix thought he was good a keeping a straight face.

“Maybe,” he answered simply, keeping eye contact much longer than appropriate on purpose.

Ace didn't look away and Felix wondered if he was the only one who noticed the tension in the air.

He always sucked at flirting, even in his native tongue, and now he had to do it in broken English. He thought he'd been pretty obvious, but he still wasn’t sure if Ace was just being friendly. Maybe he wasn’t even into men.

Well, to be fair Felix didn't think he was either, university time experimentation aside. There was something about this particular night, like he was desperate to prove to himself that he was still capable of making decisions for himself.

He’d always thought he wouldn't cheat, but he also knew that if Ace offered, he wasn’t going to say no. If this was the only thing in his life he still had control over, he was going to make the most of it, and he no longer cared if that made him a bad person.

“You know, I've stayed in a bunch of different hotels in the area while I've been here,” Ace mentioned out of the blue, and Felix furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “There's a pretty good one just down the street.”

Felix swallowed, at last realizing what the other was getting at.

“Really?” he asked, trying to mask his suddenly surfacing nerves.

“Yup. Kinda cozy, very… discreet,” Ace chirped casually, like he was talking about the weather and not propositioning a stranger.

Felix cleared his throat and shoved a hand in his pocket, managing to fish out a crumpled twenty euro bill despite his sweaty palms. He slapped the money on the table, hoping the tip would convey his gratitude to David for setting him up for the best night of his life.

Finally, he stood up from the booth and offered Ace a nervous smile that probably made it glaringly obvious just how eager he was.

“Lead the way."

#riconti #felix richter #ace visconti #david king #dweetwrites #dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #prompt #felix x ace #abusive relationship tw

[yelenasdog]

rockstar (peter parker x gn reader)

genre: fluff with a lil angst 

summary: peter always comes to the reader when he’s hurt, but reader wonders if it could mean something more.

words: 1465 ( more or less LMAO)

warnings: light cursing, peter being hurt, some kissing? idk if that counts sorry lol.

a/n: hello! so this is inspired by the song Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of Summer so i strongly reccomend listening to it by reading! if u prefer to read it on wattpad from my peter parker imagines book, click here !

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knock knock!

I was abrubtly woken from my peaceful sleep by the loud sounds coming from my window.

"What the hell," I muttered out as I groggily checked the current time. 3:47 am. I reluctantly made my way over, having a feeling it was a certain webslinger. I peeled open the entrance to see Peter, still in his spidey suit, without the mask may I add. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders, pulling him through the opening, almost slipping on the hard floor due to my fuzzy socks.

"Pete, what are you doing, people could see you without the mask." I heard his feet as he quietly padded over to sit on my soft comforter with an obvious limp.

I went over to my lamp and switched it on, a warm glow being strewn across the room by it. As Peter sat on my bed, I turned to meet him, gasping at what had been brought to my attention by the light. I rushed over to the boy, pressing the spider in the center of his suit, causing it to slide off and pool at his feet.

Peter grimaced as I soflty dragged my fingers against his bruised and battered skin from where I sat on the floor next to my bed.

"What happened to you, Pete?" I spoke, looking up at him, my facial expression laced with concern.

"Well," he began as he tried to sit up, groaning in the process, "just got hit a little harder than usual, that's all. It's no biggie, really."

I sighed, placing a tender hand on his from where I sat on the floor in a crouching position. I stood up, my hand staying in the same position.

"It kinda looks like a biggie, bud." One of my hands moved to run itself through his messy brown locks as I looked him up and down once more, scanning for any underlying injuries I might have missed at first look.

He flashed me a tired smile which I returned.

"I'm gonna go grab some stuff to patch you up, k?" This time I gave him a small smile, and he was the one who returned it gratefully.

"Thank you y/n." I squeezed his now bare hand, standing and turning to go.

"It's no problem, Pete, honestly." 

As I tried to leave, he lightly tugged me back by my wrist, catching me by surpise. My breath caught in my throat at the action.

"Really, y/n, I don't know what I would do without you."

I smiled at him once more, "Same to you, BugBoy"

He released my hand, allowing me to go get his supplies. As I gathered what I needed from the cabinet, my head was clouded with thoughts of the boy. The same thoughts that had been clouding my head since the day I had met him.

We had first met at midtown through decathlon, and grew quite close. I was entranced by the boy and everything about him, from his starwars obsession to the way he would rant about different scientific theories. It made my heart swell for reasons I would like to think I couldn't understand. He would confine in me with any problems he was going through, such as Uncle Ben passing, or even some of his biggest secrets, Spider-Man being one of them.

He hadn't meant for me to find out. Not in the way I did, at least.

It had been after a long day at school, when Ned had gone to hang out with Peter and build the lego deathstar, and I tagged along to surprise him, as I had been gone on a trip for quite some time and wanted to see him. Turns out I was the one in for a surprise, because I found out peter was Spider-Man that same day when he walked in on the ceiling through his window. It was a bit of a shock to say the least.

My feelings had only grown for the boy since that point, which also left me with uncalled for emotions that I had a difficult time dealing with. Especially when Peter would do this every time he would get hurt. This whole routine of coming to me at ungodly hours of the night, and me patching him up every time without question. It was sad to say the least. 

The way my heart would ache for the boy in red, so much so that I would sacrifice so much for his happiness, whatever form that would take. 

I tried to deny the feelings that would arise when I was around him, and God, was it difficult. I looked myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I walked back out to where Peter was waiting for me, reaching out and placing all the supplies on my mahogony side table.

"I know you hate hearing this, but we might have to do stitches, Pete."

He groaned, looking up to my poster covered ceiling as if one of the singers on the paper would somehow deny the fact he needed the medical attention.

He looked back at me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Come on, Rockstar? Really?"

My heart swelled at the nickname he had gifted me after finding out about my love for music, one of the many things we bonded over. I was tempted to give in, but quickly snapped out of it.

"Nice try, Peter, but this is for your own good, so lets just get it over with, yeah?"

His head dropped and he nodded, looking down to his feet.

"Head up, bub, I need to be able to see what I'm doing and get this done before it starts to scab." I could have sworn Peter's pupils dialated and he seemed a little off at the pet name, but yet again, it was nearly 4 am, so I very well could have been imagining things, and probably was.

As I started to run the needle through the forming scar, he let out a whimper, gripping my shoulder in pain as his eyes screwed shut. He did this often, grabbing me “as hard as he could” whenever he was hurting. 

It was an idea I had introduced to him to deal with any especially bad injuries, our little way of dealing with the pain. I knew it might cause me some minor damage, as he would never hurt me. I assured Peter every time that I felt okay, but something nagged at me telling me he felt guilty, and that he wasn't gripping as hard as he could.

As I went through what I imagined was an especially painful part, he cursed loudly under his breath.

"Fuck!"

I stopped what I was doing momentarily to check on him after the short outburst, unusual for his kind and calm demeanor.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

He moved his large hands to tightly grip his hair, moving down to his neck, back and forth.

"No, y/n! I'm not okay. I'm hurting, I'm hurting so bad, y/n/n" His volume increased and decreased again, silent tears falling down his face.

I had dropped the needle that I had been using, shocked by his volume. I picked it back up again, resuming my task with conceringly shaky hands.

"I can try to be softer if it would help, Pete." My voice was gentle as I spoke, in a feeble attempt to not upset him further. 

He looked at me and to his shoes as he began to talk, his voice low I could barely hear him.

"No, y/n, it's not you, you're doing amazing, it's just," he didn't finish his sentence, he rather just trailed off.

I blew out a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the work in front of me.

"What is it, Peter?"

I tied the knot on the stiches, cutting the thread and disposing of the needle in the small biohazard waste kit froom the first aid box.

I stood up directly in front of him to where I was slightly higher up than him. I reached a hand forward, wiping away a stray tear. He took my wrists in his hands, taking me off guard.

"Actually, y/n, I lied." I tensed, concerned about what he was going to say.

"It is you. It's always been you."

Confusion consumed me as I shook my head, and I wondered if it was just my tired state that had caused the emotions.

"Peter, what do you mean you're not making any sens-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leaned forward encapsulating our lips in a sweet and long awaited kiss. He let go of my wrists, moving his own hands, one to rest around my waist protectivley, the other on the back of my neck under my hair. I moved one of mine to lazily drape over his left shoulder, the other playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. The kiss lasted a long while, but not long enough.

Our hands went to the sides of each others faces when we parted, and his own strong hands started running small circles on my jaw. As we struggled to catch our breaths, he began to speak, the boyish smile I loved so much covering his face.

"My feelings for you are there, Y/n, always have been, and they always will be. I want you to take all of me, Rockstar."

I giggled at the wording of his statement, appreciating it nonetheless. He pressed our foreheads together, a mutal content taking over us.

"Although that was extremely cheesy, I’ll allow it this once. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that, BugBoy."

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idk how i feel about this tbh, kinda love it kinda hate it. stay funky! xx hj

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