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ioniansunsets · 7 months

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i loved your heartsteel!kayn scenarios! can you possibly do a scenario of fem!reader helping heartsteel!kayn dye his hair :3

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Getting His Hair Dyed by Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 900

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: He has his default skin braid here. Stay tuned for more. I MISS THIS FUCKER'S BRAID OK. Also you are his long term partner! I thought it would be cute if you have been supporting him though all his ups and downs uwu

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" For reals, you've done this before right. Don't fuck it up I swear to god I will cry I'm dealing with enough shit right now babe." " You're the one that asked me to do this for you, have some trust in me."

You comb through his braid and neatly section if off one last time before slapping on the DIY at home bleach. After getting kicked out of his old band Kayn wanted a full makeover, so with five boxes of bleach and some whining he convinced you to help him bleach and dye his hair. You stood awkwardly behind him as you comb in the bleach. Kayn wasn't wearing a shirt, so that he wouldn't ruin any tees. So it was quite a sight, hair down, topless, you pause for a bit and stare. After some thinking you sigh, you were going to miss his blue and black hair...it was so soft too...

" Hey I heard that sigh! You know I HAVE to do this...I want to change my image, show them I'm better without them!"

Kayn pouts, you see it in the mirror and laugh. Slapping on more bleach, sectioning it out and complaining once again bout how the long hair sticks to the gloves and makes it all messy. But ok, you work hard, with a roll of aluminum foil ready you neatly bleach his long hair. As you wait for the first bleaching to set in you throw a little of the leftovers on your hair too, just enough for one strip.

" Should we match colors?"

You see Kayn visibly perk up as he hears your suggestion.

" Really? I think that will be cute. Like a cringey couple."

He smirks, leaning back to take a good look at you in the toilet mirror. He starts laughing loudly.

" Wait are you copying me or making fun of me! Why bleach that same chunk of hair as the old me!"

The two of you chat for a bit as you wait for the bleach to set in, when times up you help him wash it all off in the tub. Damn his hair was really such a dark black, it was just brown now. You comment about it needed a few more rounds of bleach. Kayn sighs this time instead, exhausted already but his rockstar image was at stake, he wanted to look cool so he had to do this. He had a goal already, an ombre fade of pink and purple, it would be so cool. Sitting back down, you blow dry his hair and start on round two.

And round three. Orange.

And four. Yellow.

And five before the yellow finally lifts enough! You were finally free from seeing that yellow, orange hue! And-

Oh no. You look at a handful of hair in your hands from where you combed through his hair.

" Kayn I am so sorry..." " No! I cannot deal with this right now please. Y/N Tell me its fine." " I'll fix it!"

You too were unsure how to react, were you going to cry or laugh. After five bleaches, his hair kinda...fried off. Ah...you were REALLY going to miss his long hair. Promising to fix it, you grab some hair scissors and did your best. With Kayn doing everything to hold himself together while you save what you can and work out a messy cut. It actually looked really good. You tell him to look up as you blow dry his hair yet again. Promising it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. Kayn tentatively pulls his hands away from his face as he looks at himself in the mirror. A smile slowly creeping across his face.

" Oh shit you really did fix it? The hell Y/N! Let's dye it right now! I still want that pink purple thing going down!"

He tilts his head left and right, trying to get a better look at it, an idol worthy style. Kayn nods, happy with what you've done with it. Quickly you work the colors onto his hair and yours. Laughing together as he admires himself in the mirror. Half an hour passes and you wash his hair and dry it off for the last time. Kayn himself also helping to wash the and dry your hair. You smile as the two of you admire your reflections.

" Is it me or are we looking super hot?"

He snakes and arm around your waist, pulling you close. Giving your cheek a quick kiss.

" I actually like this a lot I'm glad it worked out. Thank you Y/N."

Kayn gives you a warm smile as he runs his hands through his hair, giving it a little shake as it falls gracefully along his jawline. He turns his attention back to the mirror before he shouts.

" Oh shit yeah! Let me snap a photo!"

Kayn leaves the room for a bit, grabbing his phone and a nice shirt to snap a photo in. He returns, hand draped around your shoulder as he takes a mirror selfie with you both. The largest smile plastered on his face as he sits down and edits it to use as his new wallpaper. You would mourn his pretty braid but...he was still your charming boyfriend you could live with the new style. The short hair was starting to grow on your after all.

#Also I like just bleached and dyed my hair to match og Kayn and was thinking of this scenario the whole time LMAO #Anon Answer #Shieda Kayn #Shieda Kayn x Reader #SCENARIOS #League of Legends Scenarios #Kayn LoL #Heartsteel!Kayn #KaynLeague #Kayn League #Kayn x Reader #this might be a bit weird i hope its still fun to read #had some ????????!!!!!! writing this #also this is also from personal experience where i bleached my hair 7 times and it just snapped at random places oops

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puppyeared · 6 months

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its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

#I have an assignment that was due a week ago and I really really dont want to do it. I have to but i dont want to #im probably making it worse because my brain has built a wall around it so now i can’t do literally anything else until thats done. but #because I don’t want to do it I’m just kinda stuck. turns out this is what they meant when they said emotional regulation is part of #exec dysfunction.. I’ll have a thought like if I get a little bit of it done now i can get it over with. I can just submit something #and then not even 5 minutes later itll be like ugh but I have to draw all the assets out. I have to write things and make spreads ugh #and its just flopping between those two things. i hate it when ppl are like well how much time do you need to work on one thing #because BOY id love to know too. I’d love to know exactly when my brain wants to cooperate with me and work around that but I cant #even my period can’t decide when it wants to punch me in the stomach. which is kinda funny in the grand scheme of things but still #its so weird im just lying on my bed thinking abt all this like damn.. the time will pass anyways no matter what I decide to do.. damn….#if I submit that assignment now and take the L I literally won’t die. it’ll just be a deduction on an assignment nobody will ask me about #I know this but I’m still stressing myself about it so my thoughts aren’t really connecting to my body. weird #maybe its because Im having a hard time looking forward to things. theres definitely a lot I should be living for but I don’t really feel #a strong attachment to it I guess? it’s been like this for a while with holidays and meeting with friends so I just don’t #I kinda figured its because im pretty passionless and its more like passing interest. but it’s not very fun when it feels like I’m going to #be living distraction to distraction for the next 70 years or so lol #idk it kind of feels like slowly bleeding out. which is funny because I actually did experience blood loss this week #had a 30 minute nosebleed and literally could not stand. also it felt like someone was pinching the back of my brain which was interesting #yapping #does this count as vent #vent #Ive just been making an oc carrd and contemplate changing my blog header for the past 3 days honestly

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

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an explosive repetition

this is a gift for @caracuuw for @mcytblrholidayexchange! please enjoy some time travel fwhimmy! this is crossposted to the ao3 collection here. i had fun writing it; happy holidays, and enjoy!

===

The embers of the campfire burn low during the yearly meeting of Emperors. People cheer to the newest of their number; the Codfather had been late, but he’d arrived, panting and covered in leaves and apologizing. They’d talked in quiet tones about things only people who were the emperors of their own nations could discuss, about the year to come, about the power afforded to them, and, while not about politics—the campfire meeting had never truly been for politics—they discussed what to expect from each other on an interpersonal level. Something changes in a person, when the life of a nation is tied to them. That’s what being an emperor means, even if these days only about half of them go by ‘emperor’ and only just about as many inherited their positions; even now, Fwhip remembers the day he was given the leadership title over his sister, and the way the sudden weight of the entire nation settled over his shoulders, and he knew what being an emperor was.

He feels a bit like that now, actually, except also significantly more on fire.

Not literally. He is no longer literally on fire. But, like, it’s sort of hard to forget the feeling of being on fire, even briefly. It lingers under his skin. That hadn’t happened when he’d gone from Fwhip to Count Fwhip. If that had involved being set on fire he probably would have tried harder to refuse at the time instead of being all like ‘oh hey I am no longer the unwanted second son but a vital part of this nation’, because being on fire sucks, and he doesn’t recommend it to anyone.

Pretending he is not on fire also sucks. If it weren’t for the fact he looked across the campfire, saw Jimmy appear, and saw him shaking in a very particular way too, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hide how on-fire he was. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to navigate the conversations that are normally held at a campfire meeting. He’s pretty sure he barely navigated them as it was. He had been too busy giving Jimmy baffled looks at every free moment, trying to figure out why he was technically no longer literally on fire, and freaking out about how these were all the conversations he’d had last year, actually, and he sort of remembered them, and hey maybe he only has to pay half attention anyway because if they’re the same conversations as last year, there won’t be anything important for him to know, because he already knows it, and oh man what had he gotten himself into now, and—

The point is that during their secretive magic meeting and all that, Fwhip had mostly been on fire. Is he thinking straight? He’s not thinking straight.

He waits until basically everyone has left (Pixlriffs hasn’t yet, but the Copper King has a tendency to stick around at these things and Fwhip doesn’t think he’ll get rid of him) before rounding on Jimmy.

“You,” he says.

“Me? What do you mean me? This is your fault!” Jimmy says back.

“If you hadn’t had your stupid idea of making peace or whatever…”

“Oh, well excuse me, but it was your machine that blew up. I’m still on fire!” Jimmy pauses. “Metaphorically! I’m metaphorically on fire!”

“I mean, it’s not a metaphor when it feels a lot like actual fire, that’s not what a metaphor is I think?” Fwhip says.

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks.

“I mean, I think so?” Fwhip says.

They both pause for a moment to contemplate this. Jimmy shrugs. “That’s not important!” he decides at last. “The point is. You set us on fire! You blew us up! You blew us up so hard we time traveled!”

“And would that have happened if I’d just been using salmon power? No! No, it has to be your stupid cod that did it!” Fwhip says.

“Well I think it was your stupid face!” Jimmy says. Fwhip gasps.

“You take that back,” he says.

“Make me!” Fwhip says.

“Um,” Pixlriffs says, staring wide-eyed at the two of them. “You know, I’m just going to leave now. And leave you to… your time travel? No wonder I’ve had a headache for the past week.”

Fwhip and Jimmy stare at him.

“I’m very good at pretending I don’t know the future, don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Pixlriffs says, and before Fwhip can interrogate him on that, he darts into the woods. It’s a little awkward, with none of the mysterious grace a statement like that should have, and all the gangly arms and legs the Copper King has had for ages. For a man with so much mystery around him, he’s always been a little too silly, a little too awkward, and a little too approachable. Fwhip’s always wondered if it’s a trap. Fwhip wonders if he’s actually going to not tell anyone. Fwhip…

Fwhip turns back to Jimmy and discovers Jimmy staring after the Copper King, a wistful, fond, and exhausted expression on his face. It’s so out of place with the yelling, and the time travel, and with Fwhip’s knowledge that Jimmy’s the pettiest emperor on the entire continent. It makes Fwhip’s stomach hurt.

It’s quiet.

“Sorry,” Jimmy says. “Sorry. I haven’t seen him in a long time. He was never really the same after—I haven’t seen him in a while. I should go have tea with him. There’s a fancy word for that where he’s from but I never remember it. He’s always been nice about that.”

“Oh,” Fwhip says.

“He looks less tired,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah, well you look kind of like shit,” Fwhip says.

Jimmy smiles, low and sad. “Yeah, well, you look even more—more bad. When did you last sleep?”

Fwhip doesn’t answer.

Jimmy shakes his head. “Anyway, enough of that. I’m supposed to be yelling at you about the time travel. Did you really blow us up so badly we went back in time?”

“Do you have a better answer?”

“I mean, I don’t know! I don’t want to be dead! I’m already on fire.”

Fwhip thinks of rumors about the Copper King and omens. He swallows. “Yeah, you know what, I’ll buy it’s time travel. Time travel! Back to the beginning of all of this! Just when things were finally starting to really work out for everyone!”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says. “Just when.”

They both sit down in front of the embers of the fire, almost at the same moment. It’s surprisingly cold now that the fire has mostly died. It shouldn’t be cold at the same time as being on fire, but maybe it’s the absence of any new fire to warm them with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’d been sitting, trying to have a conversation, getting used to the fire. He wouldn’t know. It seems distinctly like the kind of thing that Gem would know, except Gem has only just ascended to officially being Head Wizard, and she hadn’t had a war with a demon yet to really dig into the archives. She might not know. She might not tell him. He understands if she doesn’t. She’d always been the more responsible sibling in most ways that matter, and…

“Fuck,” Fwhip says. “Fuck, I blew us up and we’re back in time.”

“Stop swearing,” Jimmy says. “Besides, it was my fault, wasn’t it? Council told me not to do it and everything. I’m a failure like that.”

“Only one of us has got failure in the name, buddy.”

“Hah. Yeah, true, your parents suck.”

“It’s supposed to be for good luck. Shows what the Grimlands know.”

He shudders. He’s still on fire. He doesn’t know how to stop being on fire. He thinks maybe it’s all in his head, except for the fact Jimmy’s on fire too. It just—it had happened so fast. One moment, he and Jimmy had been shaking hands, and announcing they were burying the hatchet, and unveiling the salmon-cod reactor. It had been a good moment. Sure, there had been no way he and Jimmy would have stopped disagreeing, but they were committing to no more wars. To attempting to talk. To attempting peace. Fwhip hadn’t really wanted to hurt Jimmy for months anyway, and they’d both known it. Too many other things had happened, and even if the salmon and cod had stood between them before, the salmon-cod reactor would prove that with their powers together, they could be something more.

He’d turned to shake Jimmy’s hand one more time, the papers sign.

Then, the world had exploded.

It had hurt. He’s still on fire now, but it doesn’t hurt like that momentary flash of light, the twinned look of horror in Jimmy’s eyes, the realization something had gone horribly wrong, and then the world exploding around him. Someone had screamed; Fwhip still isn’t certain if that had been him. Fwhip had reached, a moment late, for the emergency stop. He’s not sure why, in hindsight. Some ingrained instinct to try to hit that button whenever something went wrong, maybe.

He’d been on fire. The world had been on fire. The earth had shaken. Jimmy had said something.

Then, the world exploded again, proving that instinct to hit the emergency stop a moment too late had been right after all, and Fwhip had woken up just outside of the campfire meeting. He went through it on autopilot.

“So, uh,” Jimmy starts. “We time traveled, huh?”

“We sure did,” agrees Fwhip.

“What do we do now? Because like, if we change stuff, do we vanish and die? I don’t want to vanish and die because I changed the time stream, man,” Jimmy says, wringing his hands nervously. His gills flare in and out on his neck.

“Pixlriffs literally already knows we time traveled.”

“And that was your fault, wasn’t it?”

“Mine? How was it my fault? You were arguing with me!”

“No, you were arguing with me!”

“Well, he’s your friend, so it’s your fault. I barely know the guy in this time.” Fwhip pauses. “I mean, I knew him later, when we were all sort of on the same side. He’s fun! Had some great ideas about how to handle corruption, liked explosions well enough, the whole works. But right now, he’s your friend, not mine.”

Jimmy pauses and frowns. “Oh, right. Hey, wait, that doesn’t make it my fault!”

“I think it does.”

“Look, I don’t know what to do with time travel either. Maybe Pixlriffs won’t say anything? I mean, he’ll tease us about it, but he doesn’t normally say anything about his whole… you know, right? It’s fine. It’s fine!”

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe that won’t change much,” Fwhip concedes.

Finally, the burning is starting to fade as the sun sets. Fwhip realizes he doesn’t know what that means. Maybe, he thinks grimly, he’d been burning because he’d set the Grimlands ablaze, too, but there isn’t enough Grimlands left to burn. Maybe it’s just time, though. Maybe it’s nothing quite so terrible. Besides, it’s good, the not being on fire. Very good, that. He doesn’t want to be on fire. Being on fire is… bad.

Lots of things are bad, actually. Maybe he doesn’t feel like he’s burning because he’s no longer at risk of erasing himself from existence? Or, worse—because he already is being erased from existence.

“Gods, Jimmy, I might actually kill you for this one,” Fwhip says. “I’m at least going to do something you hate.”

“So, good news, you’re supposed to steal my music disc about now,” Jimmy says.

“…really?”

“Did—did you not even remember that’s why this started?” Jimmy asks incredulously.

“I don’t know man, I don’t care about a stupid shitty music disc right now!”

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe I was making peace with you. I can’t believe I was going to kiss you and everything. The nerve!”

“Listen, I thought it was a religious conflict! The cod and salmon thing! You know, inherent irreconcilable differences and all that!” Fwhip says defensively. He pauses. He goes back. “What was that last bit?”

“What, your nerve?”

“No, the part about—you were going to kiss me?”

Jimmy goes very, very still. “Ignore that,” Jimmy says. “Ignore it. Ignore it! It doesn’t matter right now. Besides, we’re enemies again now, right?”

“Right,” Fwhip says, feeling strangely disappointed. “I mean, I would have kissed you back. Even when we were enemies.”

“…really?” Jimmy says.

“I mean, yeah, I like people who might stab me,” Fwhip says.

“I don’t know how to take that,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah, it’s a problem.”

“I can imagine.”

It’s awkward now. Now that Fwhip isn’t on fire, it’s—it’s awkward between them. Fwhip doesn’t know where he stands. He should probably mock Jimmy about having a crush, but it’s a little late to do that, on account of having admitted to having a crush himself. It feels like the kind of thing they should ignore at the moment, really, given that…

“Anyway, I guess I’m stealing a music disk and maybe your codfather hat?” Fwhip says.

“I’m going to have to act like killing the dragon is a good idea,” Jimmy says, vaguely sick-sounding.

“Relax, it’ll be fun for me to get to yell at you.”

“Sure.”

They stare at each other for a while. The thing is, really, that Fwhip doesn’t want to die.

“I mean, it can’t be that much harder to do the same way a second time, right?” Jimmy says, trying to hype himself up. “I’ve already done it once! It’s like, I already know how to do all of this for sure! Yeah! It can’t—it can’t be that bad. Can I kiss you though? Since you know anyway. It won’t be changing anything, promise, I’ve just—since I was going to do it. To seal the alliance. Our secret alliance. Can we at least have one of those? So when—when it’s all my fault that a demon’s here and all—”

“That really wasn’t your fault,” Fwhip says.

“Please?” Jimmy says.

Fwhip considers it. Fwhip shrugs. “Yeah. Secret alliance, until we get the real one in the end. Secret alliance to preserve the future.”

Jimmy sniffles. “Yeah, that.”

They both awkwardly lean in. Fwhip has never kissed Jimmy before; he’d always imagined it would taste kind of slimy. It doesn’t, although it does taste a little like fish, which makes Fwhip sort of want to laugh hysterically. Instead, he just pulls in deeper. Suddenly, they’re both kissing with the desperation of the two only people in the whole world; they might as well be. They’re the only ones who know. They’re the only ones who are here. They’re the only ones who are about to have to do—to do everything. A second time. Then, they’re kissing with tongue, and Fwhip nearly pushes Jimmy to the ground trying to press his entire body into Jimmy’s. One of them might be crying; it might even be Fwhip. He’s on fire again, he thinks. He’s not sure what to do. It’s all gone. It’s all gone. They’re starting over, hurtling towards a happy ending interrupted by the worst mistake imaginable, teetering on an edge with only each other, and they’d only just learned to stand next to each other without threats like a week ago. Fwhip doesn’t know what to do. Fwhip doesn’t know what to do. So he just keeps going, the two of them practically clawing at each other trying to dig into the skin of someone who at least is trapped with them, and—

Jimmy, suddenly, as though spooked, pushes Fwhip away. They stand there panting for a moment. Fwhip tries to bring his head back down to reality.

“Why do you have gunpowder on your mouth?” Jimmy asks, almost like he’s saying something else.

Fwhip really does get hysterical, then. “Oh, wow, okay, secret alliance. Okay, we’re doing this. Okay. Okay! You taste like fish.”

“I am a fish.”

“Not anymore!” Fwhip says, and he cackles. “You aren’t—you aren’t anymore, remember? You and Lizzie were all—cursed? Anti-cursed? Shit, do you even know you're siblings yet?”

“Oh, seas,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah. Yeah!”

“I don’t—Fwhip, I don’t know if I can do this,” Jimmy says.

“Tough shit,” Fwhip says. “Because I can’t do it either.”

They stand there staring at each other for a while.

“But what happens if we screw it up?” Jimmy asks. “What happens if—even if changing it’s okay, until we blew ourselves up, it was—”

“It was good,” whispers Fwhip. “It was good. We were happy. It was okay. It was good.”

“What happens if we never get that back?”

Neither Fwhip nor Jimmy can answer it. They just keep standing there by the campfire, waiting for an answer that won’t come. Instead, the minutes keep slipping away, and the weight of everything that’s just been undone gets heavier, and heavier, and heavier, until Fwhip would prefer the fire.

“Okay,” Jimmy says. “Okay. I have—I still have a nation to run.”

“Yeah, so do—so do I. Here. A personal—this is a personal number. Only Gem has it. If you call using it—”

“Okay. Yeah. Secret alliance,” agrees Jimmy. “We kissed on it and everything, that makes it unbreakable, I think. I don’t know. I haven’t kissed many people. Does this make us—the only real couple I know is Joel and Lizzie, really, and I’m not sure we should model this off of Joel, as much as I love him.”

“Jimmy, if we make it to the end of this without going insane, I will propose to you, and we’ll have a wedding to make it official. We can upstage Joel and Lizzie and everything. I don’t care what’s actually a good idea,” Fwhip says.

“You wouldn’t,” Jimmy says.

“You’re one to talk,” Fwhip says.

“Thank you,” Jimmy says, and it’s the single most desperate thing Fwhip has ever heard the other emperor say. He never wants to hear it again.

“It’s—we’re in it together, man. I’m not that selfish,” Fwhip says.

Jimmy rubs his eyes. “Good to know we’re both learning that about ourselves.”

“Can we stay here a little longer?” Fwhip says. “Just until the embers run out.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says.

They do. They sit next to each other. At some point, Fwhip grabs Jimmy’s hand. He stares as the fire burns down. Neither of them say much else. He doesn’t know if that’s for the better or not. Maybe they should talk more. Maybe they should try to work out what they should do, or what a secret alliance even looks like. Maybe they should argue again, because that’s fun, but—

Fwhip doesn’t know. This works, at least.

They can figure it out tomorrow. Yeah. That seems like a decision that won’t have consequences at all.

“Hey, Jimmy—” he says, and then stops. “Never mind.”

“You’re weird,” Jimmy says. “I can’t believe I time traveled with you.”

“Ditto, man.”

They can figure it out tomorrow.

#empires smp #empiresshipping #jimmy solidarity #fwhip #fwhimmy #a bee fic #anyway i think these two would be like. the world's worst time travelers. in a DELIGHTFUL way. but still.#so i HOPE YOU LIKE THIS #this fic is like 90% dialogue tbh but that's because i was having too much fun writing the dialogue lol #anyway empires season one fwhimmy is a DYNAMIC and i had fun writing it #idk if this is perfect? this is my first time trying to write them! but i definitely had FUN #so enjoy it!#mcytblrholidayexchange2023 #also I know I don’t normally post shipping stuff to this blog. but I hope you like it anyway!

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celestie0 · 1 month

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when ppl get too caught up in the accuracy of situations in fanfiction or if things are super realistic or as they should/would be in real life etc etc im like. my tumblr user in christ. it's fanfiction.

#ff writers don't get paid to put hollywood level research into their stories lol #also keep in mind ff writers don't have professional editors either #ALSO i've read a lot of published books and watched massive scale high budget production tv shows/movies that have put way less #effort into researching n making sure things are cohesive n legit compared to some fanfics i've read #js thinking ab a m00tie who had an anon come for her for something like this n i'm still pissed ab it #just enjoy the fic you're getting to read for free #like obv i think realism makes for a great story and is part of what good writing entails #but?? it's ok to bend the rules in some places?? it's a STORY #that's like getting pissed at a fantasy book for having dragons cuz they don't exist irl #just say u have a bad imagination n go #the author's pen is the will of the world in the story perioddd #either accept them or dont. but don't make fun of or criticize authors if you're not fuckin w it when ur just sittin behind a keyboard #also sometimes i just wanna read stories that don't remind me of the harsh truths of reality lmfao like get outtaaa heeerreee #just writer things

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doodlebloo · 2 years

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Hi I wrote a quick fix-it ficlet to make me feel better. Enjoy <3

"And then, I turn to him and I say, 'Do you want to be friends?' Fade to black."

Tubbo and Ranboo share a glance.

"...That sucked."

"Yeah. That might have been your worst story so far."

Tubbo disagrees, really - He thinks Tommy's worst story tonight has been the one about Skeppy being named the server's new king - but this story has put an equal damper on their sleepover.

The blanket fort they've haphazardly arranged in the mansion's living room seems to agree. It leans pecariously to one side, threatening to collapse and bury them in linens and sheets.

Tubbo cradles his pillow close to his chest, legs crossed. To his right, Ranboo lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy sits in front of them, lying on his stomach with his head in his fists, pouting.

"It did not suck," Tommy protests with a whine. "Tubbo, you- You got to use a nuke, man, I made you so badass."

"Yeah, but like, why? And why did we lose all our memories?"

"And why did you forgive Dream?" Ranboo chimes in. "He was- I mean, he was pretty awful to you."

"Yeah, but this- In this story, he's a good guy deep down. He's just- He was really lonely, and so he-"

"Bullshit," Tubbo interrupts. "Dream is a fucking maniac, and you know that, Tommy."

Tommy looks away, chewing his lip.

Tubbo's brow furrows. "Tommy."

"No, no, I- I know. Dream was... Dream was bad."

"Mhm," Ranboo agrees encouragingly.

Tommy swallows roughly. "And... And he wasn't my friend. He was not my friend."

Tommy sounds like he's convincing himself more with each repetition, but Tubbo steps in regardless, leaning forwards to meet Tommy's eyes.

"He wasn't," Tubbo quietly insists. "And you don't have to forgive him if you don't want to. Ever."

Tommy opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it quickly. He takes a shakey breath, burying his face in the pillows beneath him.

Tubbo leans backwards on his hands to give Tommy space. "Besides, he's fucking dead now, dude. Nobody to even forgive."

"Mm. I'm glad that guy's dead," Ranboo murmurs.

Tubbo smiles, flopping down on his back to lie next to them. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'm glad this guy's alive," Tubbo pokes at Ranboo's side teasingly.

Ranboo giggles, turning to look at him. "Aw, you don't mean that, come on now."

Tubbo grins. "I do, actually. Nice to hear you breathing and shit."

Tommy groans, so loudly and abruptly that it makes Ranboo jump.

"Stop fuckin' flirting right in front of- I'm having a moment of reflection! I'm- I'm coming to terms with all of my fuckin'- And you two are just, 'Mimimimi, ohh, we're married!'"

"Do we really sound like that?" Ranboo quirks a brow.

"Yes," Tommy and Tubbo respond in unison.

Ranboo sighs. "Well, do you have any idea when you're gonna be done reflecting? I either want to keep flirting or go to sleep."

"Sleep," Tubbo agrees, climbing underneath their designated sleeping blankets. "Fuck flirting. Not worth it."

Ranboo lets out a sad trill, speaking with an audible pout. "No flirting?"

"No, now go to sleep," Tubbo murmurs. "You too, Tommy."

"I wasn't done telling stories, though."

"Then I'll tell a new one. 'Once upon a time, Dream was dead, and me and Tommy and Ranboo all went to sleep. The next morning Michael came and woke us all up and our fort fell down. But we rebuilt it later. The end.'"

"Hooray," Ranboo cheers half-heartedly.

Tommy scoffs, though he moves to climb into their pile of pillows and blankets anyway. "That story was shit."

"You're shit."

"Shut up, man."

"I hate it when you guys fight like this," Ranboo sarcastically murmurs, already half asleep. "Tearing this family apart."

Tubbo yawns. "Yeah, Tommy, stop fighting. Think of the families."

"Fuck you." Tommy throws an arm around Tubbo's waist, thrashing until he's comfortable.

Tubbo smiles. After a few moments of struggling he's able to locate Ranboo's hand under the mountain of blankets on top of them, and he tangles their fingers together. Ranboo reaches to turn off the singular redstone lamp they'd had lighting the fort.

"Love you too, prick," Tubbo slurs. "And you too, honeysuckle."

"Eugh. Now you two are really just doing it to piss me off."

Ranboo snuggles back into bed, tossing and arm across Tubbo's shoulders.

"You should piss him off more often," he whispers into Tubbo's hair.

Tubbo chuckles quietly.

"Don't worry, I plan to. I've got time."

He means to say something else, to keep antagonizing Tommy or snarking to Ranboo or both, but Tubbo quickly drifts off before he's able to form any more coherent thoughts, fading slowly away into overwhelming warmth.

#this is short but you know what it made me feel better and maybe it will make you feel better too.#i love you all and I had fun writing this. i still love these characters and writing for them #<3!#doodle.txt #fics #this is /rp btw. the implication is that the shitty canon ending is a story that cTommy made up and cBeeduo hated it lol

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puhpandas · 7 months

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Rabbit Burrow

(3,785 words) Part 1 (part 2 found here)

Tony Becker, one year after surviving the attack from GGY, tracks down Gregory post-SB. But he has to get through Vanessa before he can get to Gregory.

Tony likes to think his detective skills are pretty good. So when he swings a leg over the seat of his bike and wheels it near the entrance, he hopes it's the right place.

He'd tracked down Gregory to this apartment complex somewhere in Gale county. It's still in Hurricane, and Tony had been able to reach it with just a bus ride. The apartment is somewhat run-down, but clean enough to where you can tell it's well kept, just old. The air conditioning units he passes on the way to the front door are brand new.

He'd taken the closest bus to Gale county right after school let out. He'd been restless all day up until finally acting on his findings. Tony has been searching for Gregory for a year. Finally finding something and having to wait for his middle school day to end was agonizing. He just hopes his Mom and Grandma wont be too mad at him.

He'd wrestled his bike he'd ridden to school that day discreetly onto the bus and wedged it in-between his legs and the seat in front of him. The air had been humid and thick all day with the signs of a storm, and Tony had seen the dark clouds and heard the thunder peeking over the treeline outside the bus window on the way here. He ducks inside the front door and beats the rain by seconds.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asks him, giving him a weird look when he steps inside. Shes a lady with long, styled black hair and covered in jewelry. Tony tries not to look too suspicious as he sends her a polite smile, heading to the elevator on the wall to the left. He would also be wary if someone he'd never seen walked into a resident building.

"Just seeing an old friend." He tells her. He presses the button to the third floor and tries to break her gaze by stepping behind the closing doors. The elevator shakes a bit before moving up.

He tries to take a deep breath. Theres some kind of excitement floating around in his chest at the fact that he's done it, but he pushes it down, lowering his expectations.

Despite his theories, he really has no clue what to expect. Theres some sort of worry mixing with the excitement, and all he decides is that if he escaped once, he can do it again.

It both took too long and not fast enough when he finally reaches the third floor. He double checks his crumpled sheet of notebook paper in his hand once, then a second time, something nervous but anticipating thrumming in his veins.

He steps onto the beige carpet of the long hallway, fresh vacuum marks in it, and follows the number plates by each door before coming to a stop near the middle of the hall.

3-05 The plate reads back to him. He quadruple checks his paper again. Its right.

He sighs out deeply, not even realizing he was holding his breath. Despite himself, his brows crease ever so slightly.

He shakes it away, pushing past it. Maybe digging too deep is what got him into trouble before, but its different now. Tony... Tony's learned things during his search for Gregorys location. If there was any point during his investigation that he would call digging too deep, it would have been months earlier from now.

Besides. Tony has always been bad at staving off his curiosity.

He thunks his knuckles on the white wood of the door quickly after that, three times in succession. He kind of bluescreens for a second when he realizes what he just did, then shakes it off. Waiting with wide eyes at the door, watching for a rattling of a doorknob or listening for incoming footsteps.

Nothing. He waits a few more minutes before knocking again, this time a little louder and harder.

Tony perks up when footsteps finally near the door, and his lips part prematurely when the doorknob rattles, not even put-together words yet on his tongue. They fall away immediately when a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail opens the door, one of those chain locks keeping it open maximum of three inches. "Hello?"

He stutters for a moment, words lost on his tongue, before he clears his throat, putting on a polite smile. "Hi, there." He says. "Um. Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that, kid." The woman raises a brow at him, never opening the door more than the chain lock allows it. She peers at him through the gap, and Tony tries as discreetly as possible to look past her head and shoulder into the apartment itself. "What are you doing here?"

When he looks back, shes still looking at him in a way Tony can only describe as cautious. The light in the hallway on the ceiling is flickering, and it casts split second shadows on the womans face that makes the bags under her eyes that much more prominent and her face that much more intimidating. "Well?"

Tony realizes he hasnt answered, and coughs slighty. "Oh. Sorry." He says, reluctant to continue. "I'm... I'm looking for Gregory."

Tony watches intensely to see if the name rings a bell or catches her attention. Just as he expects, her face twists ever so slightly in recognition. Tony catches something adjacent to panic or fear in her eyes until it's gone not half a second later.

"Who's asking?" She asks eventually, voice carefully even after a what appeared to Tony to be a mini conundrum in her head.

"His friend." He answers honestly. He ducks his head when the woman scrutinizes him, looking almost angry, but restrained enough to not show it. "I mean it," He says earnestly. "he and I... we were best friends. Last year. I came here to look for him."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly at that, and she studies him, eyes flicking back and forth over his face and his clothes and his hair. Tony doesnt miss the way her eyes linger for a millisecond on his scars. Its silent in the hall save for the two looking at eachother, and the buzzing of the flickering light on the ceiling is enough to save him from hearing his own heartbeat.

"Okay." She says eventually, and Tony subconsciously feels himself sag a bit at the relief that he won't turned away right as he was this close. She shuts the door without a word, and all Tony can do is stare at the peeling landlord white paint on the door as the sounds of the woman unlatching the multiple locks on the other side reach his ears. He waits patiently, until she cracks the door open not much wider than it had been with the lock, but just enough to fit his body in. "Come in. But no word to anyone. Got it?"

About what? Tony's about to ask, but then he steps through the door and the words die on his tongue.

"Oh." He says outwardly when Glamrock Freddy Fazbear sits on the couch. His body is adjacent to the patchwork quilt Tony has on his bed that his Grandma made him, and any of the makeup he had been painted with has long since scratched off.

His eyes are shut, and theres two jump cables attached to his ears that are plugged into a portable something. He doesn't so much as twitch when Tony enters the room.

The woman gives him a look after she re-locks only the deadbolt behind him and passes him into the apartment. "Oh." He repeats. "Not a word."

She nods at him, and it's only now that Tony can see the rest of her that isnt just her face. Shes in her twenties, if he had to guess, and she has a white tank top on with some sort of stain near the collar along with Hello Kitty fleece pajama pants. Her socks are mismatched and her nails are painted a purple color that could rival the deep bags under her eyes.

She collapses into an armchair (which hes pretty sure has a mismatched leg attached to it half-hazardously) and only looks at him silently as he steps further into the house, not so discreetly angling his body to get a peek past walls and open doors across the house.

Shes about to speak when Tony does first, "Wheres Greg?" He asks straight up. "Can I see him?"

Her lips twitch, and she just leans further back into the chair. The TV is playing some sort of Spring baking show, and the droning of the host mixes with the pattering of the rain on the window on the wall by the TV.

Anticipation and impatient-ness buzzes under his skin at being right here, and this woman undoubtedly knowing Gregory certainly doesnt help.

She only hesitates for a moment, but Tony can see the influx of thoughts that undoubtedly ran through her mind. She opens her mouth, taking a slow breath, before, "At school."

"He goes to school?" Tony gasps slightly, eyes widening. He moves to the couch, toeing past Freddy Fazbear as to not touch him even with just a brush of his jeans before sitting down, facing her. "What school?"

"He goes to Raindrop." The woman tells him, seemingly not hesitating this time.

It doesn't ring a bell, but it must be a middle school in Gale county. "...I go to Hailstorm." Tony says. "We both did. Or used to."

She stares at him after that, fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. She says nothing, just scrutinizing him, before, "You sure have a lot of cryptic ways of telling me how you used to know Gregory."

He wants to apologize, because it seems like what to do in response to that statement, but for some reason, that feeling in his gut he's learned to trust as his Detective sense tells him that he shouldn't.

Shes still looking at him intensely, and the rain outside pattering on the window somehow feels louder. There's some thunder outside that rumbles the floor, and the lighting casts a shadow on the living room. A few white lines across the coffee table caused by the blinds covering the window.

Her face doesnt so much as twitch, he notices, and she doesn't blink when she looks at him. Her green eyes bore into him, almost glowing in the shadow cast beneath her bangs. It reminds him of how he'd done to her not minutes ago. What he does to people he wants to analyze. To see how they react to something.

That's what shes waiting for, he realizes. He has a feeling that if he doesnt match her cryptic bluntness and instead apologizes and caves that easily, that it will somehow result in her turning him away.

Theres a glint in her eye when he becomes aware of reality again enough to look, and he thinks she somehow just came to the conclusion that Tony figured it out.

Then, he tries to sit up a bit straighter, and muster up that same glint mirroring back at him. "You sure have a cryptic way of letting me know you dont trust me."

Her mouth twitches slightly, but its all Tony needs to know he'd guessed correctly.

Its silent for a moment, and the woman grabs the remote on the next arm over and pauses the baking show she'd been watching. She shifts in the red velvet seat, as if getting comfortable, before, "Tell me how you know Gregory, and I'll tell you how I know him."

He has a feeling he isnt getting to Gregory unless he gets through this woman first, so he clears his throat, leaning his forearms on his knees.

"Me and Gregory met early last year at the beginning of the school year." He begins. "Right after summer ended in August. He was the new kid, and he sat at our table at lunch since it was mostly empty. Me and my friend arent the most popular, so there was room to spare."

She waves a hand, signaling him to stop. "Your friend?" She asks. He nods. "How many of there were you?"

"...Just me and E-- my friend." He says. "There were two of us, and when Greg sat at our table, we remembered how he looked a little lost earlier in class and we introduced ourselves. Then we just... clicked, I guess. He would partner with us in creative writing."

"Writing, huh?" She smiles slightly.

"Yeah." He replies. "Then, it was just business as usual for the months afterwards." He pauses, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket he loves so much that reminds him of the trenchcoats big city investigators wear. "Then... I had gotten wrapped up in this mystery."

She shifts, crossing a leg over the over and holding her hands together. "A mystery?"

Tony nods, remembering it like it was yesterday. He thumbs the part of arm where a scar is on his arm that his jacket covers. "The three of us would always go to the arcade in the Pizzaplex." He tells her. "And one day, I noticed high scores that seemed impossible to reach, and I became obsessed with solving who it was who had gotten there."

Tony thinks hes very good at reading people. So he doesn't think it's just his imagination when the woman in front of him goes a little rigid in her seat.

Theres some sort of creases under her eyes, Tony notices, that weren't there before.

"What did you do?" She asks.

Tony has a feeling that she somehow knows already. So he doesnt beat around the bush.

"I solved the mystery, eventually." Tony says. "Because GGY had been Gregory, and he'd invited me to the Pizzaplex and tried to kill me."

She sags a bit, looking somehow infinitely more tired, but no surprise detected. "But you survived."

"Not..." He shakes his head, picking at the skin by his fingernails. "I wouldn't have. If not for Greg saving me."

"Huh?"

"He--" Tony searches for the words, looking at the carpet between his knees and remembering that afternoon in every vivid detail he'd looked over countless times before. "He'd tried to kill me, yeah, but... he was almost fighting himself as he did it. He was like having a fistfight with himself."

He doesn't look up at her, he just keeps remembering how Gregory had gone rigid right before plunging the knife into Tony's gut a second time and stopped himself. How it had looked like somebody yanked Gregory backwards, but it had been his own self throwing his body. Just so he didnt hurt Tony again.

"He looked like he was a malfunctioning robot." He recalls. "He was like, hitting himself, and was making noises like he was fighting something. I was too frozen to move at the time, but then he threw me a really high security pass for the Pizzaplex and told me to run."

Then he had collapsed in front of him, like he was holding himself down. He doesn't tell the woman, though.

He looks back up to see her staring, eyes wide in suprise. She looks deep in thought for all but a few moments before shaking herself out of it. "So what did you do?"

"I ran." Tony says. "He had got me already. He stabbed me in the back, the first time. That was how I knew he was attacking me in the first place. But I ran away with the pass, and I went to a room with a ton of monitors and erased the security footage."

Her eyes blow wide as saucers, that time. "You got stabbed," she begins. "and instead of getting help, you erase the security footage?"

"Yeah." Tony nods. "Greg would have gotten in trouble if I didnt."

She's silent, after that. Tony just keeps picking at the skin on his fingers. "I somehow knew that Gregory didnt deserve to be. He just..." Tony trails off. "He didnt seem..."

"Seem like himself?" She suddenly cuts in, and Tony's eyes widen.

He nods, a small tilt of his head, and the woman sighs. "That's what being mind controlled will do to you."

A year ago, probably longer by now, Tony would have never believed that. He would have never thought something so outlandish that is only ever shown in fiction could be a possibility.

Not that he was wrong, to. Really, anyone in their right mind wouldnt think so. But things have changed since then.

And Tony has seen a lot of things during his search that probably nobody else has. Plus, This woman has been so cryptic up to this point. If she told him this straight up, and it's clear that she knows Gregory...

Suddenly, everything that day seems to make perfect sense. And everything he'd found that he'd filed away into his little mental Gregory crazy wall.

(He'd used to call it evidence wall, like normal people do. But, well, at some point, maybe Tony had thought the things he'd been finding were a bit too crazy to deem as normal.)

Theres been a stretch of silence while Tony had been taking that in, and he only breaks it to say, "Is mind control a topic you're familiar with in this house?"

Her eye twitches, a bit. And now that Tony is looking for it, he notices that same strange sheen on her eyes that Gregory had during their friendship. That weird red tinted film that makes their eyes turn a completely different color when the light hits them right.

Tony doesnt yet understand how the mind control Gregory had been under works, but all he can hope is that there are some side effects.

She stares at him, eyes narrow, and theres another roar of thunder outside the window.

"Who are you?"

"Tony." He answers. "Tony Becker. Ring a bell?"

She hums, and she looks at him in a way where he feels like he's being dissected.

"He didnt remember anything for a while." She says eventually. "But hes been having dreams, lately. Sometimes he talks about two kids he used to be friends with."

"Me and Ellis." Tony's eyes widen. It doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't share Ellis's name.

"He worries about you." She says. "I've heard him say he hopes you're okay. You and that other kid. You must have been close if he remembers being that good of friends with the two of you."

"We were." Tony replies. Memories of him, Ellis, and Greg going to the Pizzaplex and trying to get the most dunks in the basketball hoops flash in his mind. He thinks about when Gregory would come over to Tony's little run down house that he shares with his Grandma, and they write graphic novels together for the fun of it.

Gregory liked to call them comics before he'd suddenly decided that stuff wasnt cool anymore and stopped coming over. It had been like everything Tony saw him enjoy that wasnt painfully average for a child suddenly didn't mean anything to him anymore.

And then Gregory tried to kill him in a dusty back room.

Everything hed given up seems to make more sense now. It wasnt willingly at all.

"He doesn't remember your names." She speaks up suddenly, ripping Tony out of his thoughts. "But he remembers more and more every time he has a dream. Something reminded him of you one day, I guess. That must have been when it started."

Tony opens his mouth, but the beeping of a digital clock interrupts him. He follows the womans arm as it reaches across the seat to turn it off.

The time reads 5:00pm.

He watches as she looks over at him, and nods to the door. "After school activity." She informs him, getting up out of the seat. His eyes follow her as she moves towards the front door. "I'm his ride."

Tony's eyes widen at the implications. "So I just--"

"Stay here." She tells him. She grabs a flannel off of the small coat rack by the front door and slips it on, sliding some Adidas sandals on top of her socks and reaching in the pocket of the coat to grab car keys. She pulls them out, and Tony notices that theres a keychain of a white rabbit dangling from the key ring.

The breath is suddenly stolen from his lungs, and he bolts off of the couch, a buzzing under his skin. "You're bringing him?"

She nods to Freddy Fazbear. "If you can wait." She smiles at him, and it's the first time Tony has seen her smile, instead of the carefully kept nonchalant-ness. "He'll wake up pretty soon once he's done charging. So you won't be completely alone."

Tony doesnt know what to say to that. Thousands of words spawned from the thousands of thoughts hes had about finding and tracking down Gregory are on the tip of his tongue, but he only gets any out when the woman begins to leave the house.

"Wait!" Tony reaches out a hand. She turns around, a brow raised. The door is still slightly ajar, and the sound of heavy rain reaches his ears. "What's your name?"

She smiles a bit at the question. "Vanessa."

"Vanessa," He asks, oddly desperate. "Dont tell him I'm here." He swallows. "I want to see him remember me."

Vanessa tilts her head, but nods after a moment. "Sure, kid."

She smiles one last time on her way out, and says, "Tony Becker."

The sound of the rain outside disperses when the door shuts and locks, and Tony doesnt move for a long while. He just stares at the landlord white door, electricity under his skin and something floaty in his stomach.

Greg. He thinks in his mind when he finally rips himself away and looks around some more, seeing a door propped slightly open down the hall with a bed and a desk with pencils and paper strewn all about. He doesn't dare go in, but stares at what he can see. Its been a while.

The silence is numbing, when he can only hear the faint whirring of Freddy Fazbear on the couch next to him and the rain on the window, he plants himself on the couch cushion next to the animatronic, grabbing the remote and resuming the baking show Vanessa had been watching.

He doesn't listen to a word. He just trembles with anticipation and bobs his leg up and down as he stares at a random corner of the screen.

ao3 link

#i had a lot of fun with this one. if you need help understanding the strange interactions between tony and vanessa #its supposed to be a right of passage i guess. vanessa doesnt want anybody else to get involved #or to drag back any of the vanny & ggy stuff.#not if theyre not serious. so if tony had apologized #it would have shown vanessa that she shouldnt humor him and to just turn him away so he doesnt get involved #because he'd just be a scared kid looking for his friend.#but tony matching her and showing that he understood the test and is still serious about it #& he also matches with gregorys descriptions #shes like alright you can know.#theres meant to be a part 2 to this little oneshot thing where gregory and tony actually reunite #but i still need to plan it out. ive been obsessed with detective rabbit reuniting for a bit now and wanting to write it so #it shouldnt take too long. but no promises lol #just wanted to write tony and experiment with something new and this happened :) it was fun #my fics #pandas writes #tony becker #fnaf gregory #detective rabbit #ggy #tales from the pizzaplex #twoshot #gregory #tony #ellis #vanessa #3 star fam #freddy #also rabbit burrow is a reference to the saying rabbit hole #but i made it burrow because like tony said #he crossed the line a long time ago

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marimbles · 8 months

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at the risk of sounding like really entitled….

does anyone else have a fic that is their most popular, but you don’t want it to be, because you don’t think it deserves it, and you have better stuff, and while ofc you are grateful that people like something you wrote, it’s almost annoying that for some reason That one is the most popular. lmao

#for me it’s this like time travel shenanigans ml fic called Why Are You Like This #which I had a ton of fun writing and I like the fic #but I also tend to forget about it lol #and then I see that it’s my most popular one and I’m like ‘not but this isn’t even in my top 5 favorite fics I’ve written. why’ hdjsjs #it’s probably closer to the bottom of the top 10? and I do not have that many fics hahaha #I remember rooting so hard for tell me something I don’t know to surpass it in kudos #which it eventually DID and I was so happy #but then later WAYLS passed up tms again lol #and I was slightly annoyed to realize that WAYLS was my first to break 5k kudos #while tms still hasn’t #it’s very close tho I need like. 2 more #ok ok sorry this definitely sounds super entitled DHDKDK #I promise I am VERY grateful for every fic interaction!! every kudos or comment I’ve ever received!!#thank you thank you to anyone who has ever read my stuff💜#I just think this is kind of funny #cause I keep scratching my head wondering why that one is the top fic #I think ppl just rly enjoy time travel stuff?#also I did it as a gift for yunyin based on one of her comics so that probably boosted it haha #anyway

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ploompkin · 22 days

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Idk whether I’ll have time to finish this, but…! Here- just a teaser of what could maybe-in-future be a full fic. Based on @ohsayit ‘s scenario I reblogged earlier 🤭

Summary: You steal Zevlor’s shirt. He wants it back. …And he’s willing to fight for it.

Pairing: (gender neutral) Zevlor/Reader ; Zevlor/Tav

Rating: T

Cw(s): Suggestive!! General sauciness, but nothing explicit.

—————————————————

“Tav.” Zevlor reaches out his hand, stance firm. “I need it. Give it here. Now, please.”

You prop your chin up on your knuckles, elbows on your knees, smug, because despite the irritation in his voice you can tell by his face that the sight of the oversized sleeves swallowing up your hands has him smitten.

With the most obnoxious smirk you can manage, you issue the challenge. “Come take it off me yourself.”

He sets his jaw, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’re sure want to play this game?”

As an answer, you just lean back and undo another button�� the shirt now gaping so wide it’s just short of exposing a nipple— and stick the tip of your tongue out. His reaction is priceless, body stiffening as his expression flits between aroused and annoyed too many times to count, until it settles on… neither. He looks at you blankly, and just when you’re wondering whether you’ve finally broken him, he lunges for you. You both fall backwards into your tent as you collide, landing in an awkward heap among the cushions. His initiative is better than yours though, and before you can even think what your next move will be, he has you pinned beneath him by the wrists. Both of your breaths mix, along with your gazes, heated. Then, you brace one foot on his thigh and lock your arms around his shoulder, throwing him off effortlessly- but he’s prepared for that, and immediately breaks into a roll to escape a counter attack, pushing himself up into a crouch. You mimic his stance (not like there’s room to stand in the tent anyway), and eye him warily. His tail swishes from side to side, a playful, but confident smile on his face.

“The shirt, Tav.”

But this is about more than the shirt now. This is about pride.

You lift your chin in defiance. “I’m starting to get attached to it, actually. Think I’ll keep it.”

He growls. “That wasn’t a request.”

“And that wasn’t a surrender.”

“Torm’s tears, you’re so…!—“ He grinds his teeth— “stubborn…!”

You just wink at him. “I am. And that’s why you love me.”

He huffs, but you see the lines of his face soften. Unfortunately though, although he calls you stubborn he’s much the same, and this fight is far from over. He stalks over to you, but before he can get close enough for whatever he has planned, you rush to tackle him at the waist. That proves to be a mistake. You might be agile and have a solid technique, but he has all of that and a set of infuriatingly strong muscles. So, you find yourself underneath him. Again. It’s enough to make your blood boil, irritating you as much as it is very rapidly turning you on— but when his teeth graze against your neck, your body quickly decides to favour the latter. A sigh falls from your lips as he kisses along the sensitive skin, followed by a shiver as he drags his tongue over your pulse, torturously slowly. His body feels so pleasantly firm against yours, and you’re suddenly desperate to have more of him, arching your hips up into his with what you’ll deny is a quiet whine. The adrenaline from the fight transforms into something else entirely, your head spinning with want as he encourages you, rocking against you.

Then, you feel it. Fingers creeping between you two, presumably trying to be stealthy, and moving to undo the rest of the shirt buttons.

Bastard!

Now he’s not expecting your resistance you’re more easily able to reverse your positions, pinning him in place with your thighs, doing your best to ignore the longing ache between them.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to steal it? Really?”

“Steal!” Zevlor scoffs, “I’m just taking back what is mine.”

“By seducing me.” You lean in closer, smiling sweetly. “What an underhanded technique for such an honourable soldier.”

He scowls at you. “If I remember correctly- and I most certainly do- you flashing me is the whole reason we’re in this mess.”

“Ahh, so it did get you hot and bothered. That’s good to know.”

“I’m only a man, Tav.” He grumbles. “I can hardly be blamed for it.”

“No.” Your smile widens, “but you can be for your actions. Tackling me into the tent?” You tsk. “Really, Zev. I took you for a gentleman.”

His lips twitch up at the corner, eyes hooded as he watches you. “You seemed to enjoy it well enough.”

Your mouths are only a hairs width apart now, and you can feel each heavy breath he takes as if it were your own. Just for a moment you forget yourself, and swallow thickly. He spots the bob of your throat and chuckles, hand sliding up the back of your neck and threading into your hair.

“One last chance,” he murmurs against your ear. “Return what you stole, and I’ll go easy on you. If not…”

He knows he doesn’t even need to finish the thought; your imagination will do the rest.

“You’re expecting me to beg for your mercy, rider?” He shudders as your lips brush, and your tongue darts out to kiss his lower lip. “Dream on.”

You groan lowly as his hands grab onto your hips, claws sinking in just shy of drawing blood.

“Mrag, your insolence knows no bounds.” A dark laugh tickles your cheek. “Very well. But don’t blame me if come tomorrow morning you regret it.”

#cw suggestive #I rarely post my writing on here lol this is fun #sorry if Zevlor is a bit ooc I’m still learning how to write him #I do think if he had a partner he genuinely felt comfortable with tho he would be fairly confident and flirty with them.#when they’re alone anyway~#zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 #zevlor/tav #zevlor/reader #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #my writing

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good-beanswrites · 3 months

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I’m thinking about the angst of the restraints headcanon again. There’s the two with the least physically violent crimes, and they rank relatively low in strength. There’s the child who was violent but had to be really crafty about it; she’s the weakest of all of them. And the most dangerous of the guilty prisoners cannot be restrained.

This makes me so emotional!!! All three are the smallest of their circles. Two of them are extremely ordinary people who have never experienced/expressed physical violence before. One hadn't even fathomed the idea of someone dying until they actually did. And yet, they're subjected to the type of restraints you'd expect to see on someone who is uncontrollably violent. The fact that prisoners who committed very gruesome murders can walk free (including Mikoto) just adds insult to injury. I still couldn't everything into words, but here's a Mahiru-centric drabble featuring the same thoughts. It takes place after T1 closes but before the attacks.

“Where are our rights?”

Fuuta’s shout caused Mahiru to wince. She perched on her bedding, watching the two prisoners she’d invited to her cell. It hadn’t been the fun kind of invitation, though. Back in school, she always wanted to have parties and dates back at her place. Moving to the city, she imagined what it would be like to make university friends and take them back home with her to talk, eat, and have fun.

Sitting in her dim gray cell with Fuuta and Amane, all of them held fast by complex sets of restraints, was not what she’d had in mind.

Amane knelt in the corner. Her arms were crossed, as if pouting, though the opposite was true. A moment ago her eyes had lowered in prayer, but it was difficult to find any peace of mind now. Fuuta snapped and shouted as he paced the length of the cell bars. They were unlocked, but like the others, he didn’t feel like being out in front of everyone. He’d give his uniform a violent jerk every now and then, but it didn’t do any good. Between his strides and growls, he made Mahiru think of those poor wild animals they keep at the circus.

“Take it easy, Fuuta.” She mustered up a smile. “Come rest with us.”

“I can’t believe you two. You’re just gonna sit here and take it? I didn’t do a fucking thing! They’re acting like I’m some big danger to society,” he yanked his arms again, to no avail. “All I did was type some things onto a screen. I’m not gonna go around stabbing anyone or anything. And you, you didn’t hurt anyone either!”

He nodded his head to Mahiru. If her arms weren’t already folded over her chest, she would have hugged herself anyway.

“Well… I did hurt him in the end… I broke his heart badly enough that… I mean, he…”

Fuuta made a disgusted sound. “That’s all stupid romance stuff. I’m saying, you never stabbed him. Never strangled him. Never poisoned his food, or –”

“Oh god, no! How horrible…”

“Exactly! From what we’ve heard, it sounds like Haruka killed someone with his bare hands. I think Muu had a knife or something. Shidou had a whole arsenal of grisly doctor tools. Kotoko has openly talked about how she beat that guy to death. Why are they allowed to walk free while we’re tied down like wild animals?”

Mahiru was glad she hadn’t mentioned the circus.

“And Amane! It’s not like she did anything violent, and here she is!”

“That is not true.”

Both paused as Amane spoke up for the first time.

“Eh?”

“While I disagree with my verdict, the restraints make sense.” The others still stared blankly. As matter-of-fact as always, she continued. “I killed with my own hands. I used the amount of force I was instructed to. Just as the sinner fears the wrath of heaven, I can understand how the godless warden would fear my justice.”

Fuuta’s passion wavered, but Mahiru could feel her heart ache for the girl. “Oh Amane… I had no idea. To be pushed to the point of violence at your age…”

“I am not to be pitied. As I said, I am dangerous, and proud to be. I am doing god’s work. All heroes must be dangerous.”

Fuuta grunted, but said nothing. Mahiru gave her a gentle smile. “It’s not pity. Even if you were dangerous, it’s horrible to restrain someone like you. You’ve already had to brave so much, as the smallest of the bunch.”

She looked between the two. A sad laugh escaped her. “Now that I think of it, I guess we’re all the smallest here, hm? Aside from maybe Muu, we don’t have much height or strength on the others…”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Fuuta cried. “The fuck do they think we’re going to do?” Mahiru was just glad he’d focused on that rather than the fact she’d just called him weak.

Voices raised in conversation down the hallway. Mikoto’s laugh echoed faintly into the cell.

It warmed Mahiru to hear. Things had been so hard on him here. Though it had been frightening to hear him shouting at the restraints til his voice was raw – well, it wasn’t him shouting – it had been a relief when he appeared free and relaxed the following day. He seemed sheepish that he wasn’t able to help the others, having no memory of his escape. Mahiru just kept telling him how happy she was for him.

Fuuta didn’t share in the sentiment. “Meanwhile, Mikoto gets to stroll around free, and he beat the shit out of Es! He could snap and kill any one of us here, and they don’t even give a damn. But ooohhh, god forbid the guy who’s never been violent a day in his life is allowed to use his own two hands!”

The harshness of his voice wasn’t doing his argument many favors. Still, his words were beginning to get through to Mahiru.

She’d worked so hard to be a model citizen. She was supposed to have a perfect life. She could cook, clean, sew, and take care of children. She did herself up every day; she was never a slob or a slut. She was generous to everyone she met. She showered the world around her in love. Wasn’t it unfair that her hands were tied like some common criminal? What was all that effort for – being patient when people upset her, being kind even when she disagreed with someone, all of that – if she was going to end up in the same place as someone who had stabbed another out of sheer malice?

Amane didn’t seem to be whirling with the same doubts. She closed her eyes once more. “It is simply a trial from heaven. We may be small, but all of us have an internal strength that will carry us through the ordeal.”

“I don’t think it’s any sort of religious thing, but you’re right,” Fuuta puffed his chest out. “Trials like this only make people stronger!”

“Do you think so?” Mahiru wasn’t sure if she was asking either of them or just musing to herself. It was a nice thought. This was all part of destiny, something meant to be that would make her stronger in the end.

But she wasn’t so sure she believed in destiny anymore. It hadn’t quite worked out the first time.

“Hell yeah!” Fuuta must have assumed she was in fact asking him. He gave a wide, toothy grin. “It’s not like we can get any weaker, right? The warden better watch out next trial – they’ve got a big storm coming!”

#milgram #mahiru shiina #fuuta kajiyama #amane momose #and then we had a big storm coming 😔#thank you for the ask pal!!! im not sure if the drabble is what you had in mind but it was really fun to write lol #mahiru canonically being really tiny and trying to be the model nonconfrontational woman...#fuuta being so small and specifically saying hes never been violent toward anyone and never wanted anyone to get physically hurt...#(and something about fuuta being the closest to the average milgram fan)#amane being very small and weak and only killed a specific person for a very predictable reason...#and theyre all treated like wild animals that could snap at any time :((#meanwhile the actually unpredictable one who Did lash out and hurt someone just strolls around free #not that its anyones fault hes free -- it wasnt on purpose -- but still it makes the situation that much more painful #it makes me crazy!! i thought putting it into action would help communicate my ideas but idk #drabbles

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vargaslovinghours · 8 months

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The unusual but no less hard-hitting 10½! (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9)

So as it turns out, I did so many Blank Slate/Have you lost your mind? doodles that I ComPletely broke the last sketchdump lol, so it gets it’s own! Who could’ve figured that making basically a full comic of Chapters 2 and 3 would’ve made just a few too many sketches lol

Because of that, I’d strongly recommend reading what I've posted of Have you lost your mind? so far before this! Spoilers and author’s notes/behind the scenes warnings and all that haha

Concept sketch for Scriabin - I always love having visual signifiers to denote timeline/AU/etc. differences so you can tell at a glance where you are :) His silhouette gets to be correct! The details, well, sorry we forgot those ♪

And concepts for Edgar! I've drawn him in different glasses before so it was a bit of an excuse, using these new/old glasses to do so again haha

But in the end I went for a reference! Remember when I drew Edgar's glasses tiny?

And I mean, if he hadn't worn them in a while, maybe they're just a bit small on him! Lol

Poor memory-less Edgar's musings, it's not just sad to be forgotten, it's sad to forget :(

Early concept of Scriabin freaking out by himself in the bedroom. I'm glad I got to keep it :D

Always gotta draw 'em reacting to something just out of frame

Poor Scriabin, he wants to be close despite knowing Edgar doesn't remember him. He has to face this whole Being Human thing completely alone! Edgar just doesn't understand!

He doesn't know how good he's got it haha, if I was really mean I'd have let him keep his glasses instead. There's a bunch of fun themes either way, but stealing from Edgar while hiding in his own hair is as good as any hehe <3

Blank-faced Edgar, I ended up with a lot of these, unsurprisingly. Doesn't help that he's cute haha

As usual, starting from the middle - it's just easier to get ideas flowing around a core! Also that note pointing at Edgar of "Put Todd to bed" was all the everything of the prep work I did for writing that little section, but the rest Absolutely Needed storyboarding lol

He might come to resent you if you manhandle so much right after meeting for the "first" time

Scriabin actually touches him in the original draft, but after I thought about it, it'd probably take a bit to cross the touch barrier comfortably again! Scriabin's still weird about Edgar but Edgar is wary, it's an interesting dynamic

I won't show off every panel, but panels like these where I think they turned out especially cute Have to be included haha <3 I dunno what it is but Scriabin pouting always turns out adorable ♥

Floof harder! Edgar's innocent expressions ahh <3

Starting to lay the groundwork, but still a bit nervously! It is quite fun how they skirt each other, not quite sure what the other knows - how many lies can Scriabin get away with before he gets caught!

Scriabin using some informed guesswork in conjunction with what he definitely knows, he is rather intelligent :) You can also see Edgar's unfocused eyes well in this one, I tried to draw them fuzzy behind those glasses hehe

These are all lined up like this on the page :D Really happy with his hand expressions here, and his face haha

This was one of my favourite lines - he keeps making excuses for Nny! Edgar no! - I fully admit that it's also partially influenced by how cute Edgar turned out haha, the poor thing - but he's so wonderfully fluffy!

I love this line as well, Scriabin utterly convinced that all his hard work must have gotten through to Edgar somewhere in there, he said it often enough, he must have listened to him at least once-!

And then Edgar completely cuts him off and redirects him haha, they’re both hopeless <3

So mad at himself and Edgar, comedy = pain + time, but this is still fresh! Give yourself some time!

That last line in particular is so insidious because he did that, Scriabin was the one who put him in that situation, and now he’s trying to turn it back around on him! He's the worst ♪

Guilty Edgar <3 Still pressing on (changing the subject so he doesn't have to linger on the feeling hehe), he does have his own questions

These kinds of exchanges were especially fun to look back on from their individual perspectives since I only drew it once, starting with Edgar. How honest can Scriabin really be? He can't explain everything and not be kicked out for being a potential danger to Todd or Edgar! He's gotta play his cards Just So

Edgar is also quite intelligent! Catching Scriabin out in a lie, even when he's trying so hard to skirt the truth!

Scriabin so mad about being called out, gotta rub it in just a little bit that he's Totally Right lol, what a brat <3

Scriabin is legally and morally and emotionally and spiritually obligated to mess with Edgar sexually in literally every iteration of his existence, it is a core tenant of his being and also he really really wants to (lol) ♪ Drawing Edgar all blushed up is just a bonus, who does this stranger think he is! What has he forgotten! He's not some easy man! Haha, if you only (still) knew, Edgar

Whatever he was going to say would just hurt Scriabin's feelings, better to just cut him off before another reminder gets laid out

Probably my least favourite dialogue that I had to change was making "?" into something that flowed better in just-text, it's not the same! Lots of little notes about word choice actually haha. Love them reaching for each other even like this <3

Edgar has all these feelings to contend with! My favourite shot is easily the last one, Scriabin's relaxed mouth while Edgar's heart is beating out of his veins right into his ear ♥

Pls o////ò;

Existence is exhausting

Even without knowing him, he's just a cautious guy :) And he wants to be gentle with him! He doesn't realize what he's doing, what his actions would mean to Scriabin if he could see them, and he does them all the same 💕

Pretty lad <3

Technically backtracking, to Ch. 3! POV shifts are fun lol

Zarla mentioned Scriabin curling up into a ball in the blankets and I thought it was a cute visual haha ♪ Haven't had a use for it yet but never say never hehe

I wanted to go for some high perspective shots to drive home the uncanny feeling of being really truly alone for the first time ever. That, and he's dramatic anyhow haha

His posing was very important to me! Since Edgar knocks on the door while he's still leaned against it, the contact points would Feel a specific way

Scriabin got a lot of「bracket notes」for his section, usually as digs lol, where does Scriabin get off saying that Edgar has no tact haha

More blank-faced Edgar! These were actually drawn separately - could be chalked up to how each of them remember the event! Edgar sees himself as more put-together and Scriabin as more foolish haha ♪

That horrible sinking feeling

I pick on him a lot but this really would be incredibly scary and sad! He's alone, expelled, and the only person who Knows him now doesn't even recognize him! This was probably the one scene I wanted to be just a bit longer, really feel the weight, hmm

But he's also quite resilient haha, he has to be <3 He has enough tenacity, thank goodness haha

One of those examples of panels basically repeating lol, I can only fit so much text per pose! Plus it's fun to see the little body language differences :)

Another bracket note lol, Scriabin has to be the best at everything!

And another, have I mentioned that Kaggie is my favourite of the two? ✨ I'd still like to give both K and D a more sizeable reference sometime! Scriabin continues to be the cutest when he pouts, agh <3

Touchy touchy touch ♥

I do love the phrase "feeling himself" right after the last panel lol - it can be both literal and metaphorical! And that's what you get for not cleaning up after yourself! I swear that lightswitch panel confused me so many times on reviewing notes lol

He's not even careful pfft. Then again if he was, he wouldn't have a mess to grumble about in the first place!

A familiar face while Scriabin's already feeling small on his lonesome, ~it's symbolic~

Ough, it hurts to think that Edgar might actually be able to watch Zeitgeist, not knowing the deeper implications. The thought of him inviting Scriabin to see it! 💔

The most important question, and he hasn't come to a conclusion yet :) I wonder what his answer will be once he stops hiding from it!

Hhhh this has been a really fun AU to write for, I'm glad that I finally put it to words since it had been rolling around in my head since early 2021 - there are so many fun and insidious things to explore! Especially on Scriabin's side, though I still think it's the most fun to be stuck behind Edgar's eyes, an aware audience knowing what Scriabin is up to while Edgar doesn't hehe ♪ Hopefully I'll have some time to return to it after a bit! :D

#💟#Doodles #Art #Sketchdump #Blank Slate AU #Scriabin #Edgar #Hhhhhhhwhy did I make so many of these lol ♪#I finally utilized the method I'd heard about for fic writing of doodling out scenes for visualization #And then it comes back on me like this! Lol #And this still isn't even all of them!#Cough Patreon plug cough cough cough lol #But most of them are featured here :) I was happy with a lot of them! :D #In general as a fic it's been quite easy-going haha #It feels a little ironic to me but it's my in-between fic - since I'm not rereading it's detail-light/non-specific #I guess I'm just thinking of it as a first draft until I reread haha ♪ I'm just sharing it while I'm here! :)#I think it'd be a fun read-along to find which panels go to which scenes hehe #Although I'm also a big advocate for ''seeing'' fics on your own first!#Sometimes the imagery is different and inspires! I've had several times where I'll read and then draw #And /then/ go look at the accompanying art and it's quite different! Translation through medium! :D #So I always recommend getting your thoughts out first haha you can always return later :)#I know I said so already but having at-a-glance differences to show where we're at ah <3 #And that it's to do with both of their glasses! How they see each other but literally! Hehe!#It really is such a fun concept to play in ♪ Similar in some ways to And Also With You #But one-sided! I also really love the trope of ''The one who should know Doesn't''#Oh and did you catch the Loved and Wanted reference? It's subtle haha #Always pulling little things from everywhere >:3c Blink and you miss it fun!#Pls do stick with me if you like it so far :D I have more ideas just you wait ♫

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