#and hopefully a drabble or two

[emchante]

this is scheduled for when i’m asleep (i hope), BUT we are so back starting tomorrow or friday!! feeling motivated, feeling better, feeling on track. got lottttts of asks to answer, but don’t worry— i am getting to them!!

don’t hesitate to send in more in the meantime though, i’ll answer them real soon. lots of love!!

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes

Yandere!Aventurine who pampers and dotes on you like no other. All of your outfits ooze luxury, matching his color palette and aesthetic to a T. Whenever he takes you on extravagant shopping trips, he always returns home with at least five bags hanging off his arms, insisting on carrying them for you. If he makes reservations for dinner, best believe there will be the most showstopping, mouthwatering foods you have ever seen, smelled, or tasted. He'll take care of it all.

Yandere!Aventurine who likes taking you to casinos, even if you don't particularly care for gambling. He'll have you sit next to him as he plays poker, flashing you a mischievous smile as he goes all in. Of course, he wins.

Yandere!Aventurine who tells you his past in hushed conversations at night, memories merely whispered between trembling lips. His hands reach for yours, grasping them like if he lets go, he'll fall into a dark, unescapable abyss.

Yandere!Aventurine who needs you like a fish needs water or a bird needs to fly. He says nonchalantly with a casual smirk that you're his "good luck charm", but you are so much more than that to him. You soothe the scars in his heart and blanket his sleep in sweet dreams. All this superficial glamor and wealth he flaunts don't even hold a candle to your value.

Yandere!Aventurine who can't stand the idea of you leaving. He'll clutch you tightly at night and keep an eye on you in the day, making sure you're safe and protected. He'll buy you anything, give you whatever you ask for. The one thing he isn't willing to give you is your freedom. After all, he'll take care of it all.

[imtrashraccoon]

Whoops, all worldbuilding! Yeah, um, I decided to take my break before posting this and it ended up being longer than I had planned. I did get a little stuck planning this chapter out too, but I eventually settled on an ending that seemed good. So, yeah! Hopefully this is okay to tag as Bad Sansuary, even though it's been over for a bit...

@strawberryiso-papyrusiscool Here is the surprise I was working on for your OC. I based it off the "Reven Don't Imagine" you requested a couple months ago. I hope you like it, especially since I reworked it a tad. Thanks for humoring me lol

@owl-bones

First, Previous, & Next Day

Bad Sansuary II: Bonus - Meet Cute

Featuring: Reven!

Word Count: 3,305

You hugged your thin coat around yourself in a futile attempt to ward off the biting wind that whistled through the alleyways. It was almost always windy down here in the Undercity and the tall buildings really didn't help with the wind tunnel effect.

Life wasn't easy here. Although you had grown up in an orphanage, you left as soon as you became an adult and made your own way in the world. While you usually relied on your street smarts, you had another advantage that most people didn't. You seemed to have some modicum of control over situations where chance was involved. You couldn't change the odds, but you could usually predict the right call when it counted.

You were careful to keep your ability to yourself, lest you attract the wrong kind of attention, usually playing it off whenever anyone seemed to take notice. They called you lucky, and so you had taken to using the nickname on occasion since it just seemed right somehow.

It helped that you looked relatively uninteresting, save for your soft golden eyes, although you had been told they seemed to appear light green in certain lighting and you didn't bother to correct them. You had brown hair that you usually kept short and preferred androgynous clothing wherever possible. You liked to feel comfortable and unrestricted, especially because you could never really know when you might run into someone having a bad day.

The Undercity was a massive city, situated in a deep crater and naturally defended by jagged stone cliffs that seemed to almost touch the sky itself. The streets were often dark, thanks to the walls and tall buildings, but the main thruways were usually lit with oil lamps. The sky was obscured a lot of the time, but on clear nights you liked to climb up somewhere high and just stare up at the few stars that managed to poke through the shadows.

Another fact about this place was that there were several powerful families with massive influence over the populous. There were politicians and guards like everywhere else, but everyone knew they actively took bribes to look the other way and couldn't be trusted. It was said that it was almost preferable to deal with some of the families if you needed something done, as they usually kept up their end of the bargain.

Today, you were on your way to the industrial part of the city since it was generally pretty easy to find work, provided you kept your head down and asked no questions. Your rent was due soon and, after the protection fees, you were going to come up short if you didn't rustle up some more cash.

A loud crash followed by a cry of pain caused you to pause as you passed by an alleyway. Immediately, you noticed a young looking monster on the ground surrounded by fragmented wood from where they had been shoved into some old pallets. They appeared to resemble a deer, although they seemed to lack any horns and wore rather tattered clothing. Standing over them were two guards. The first had a bulky build and was standing off to one side, while the other was slimmer and currently nursing a bruised knuckle.

"Stupid brat, you don't get to give me lip like that," the second guard hissed before spitting at the ground.

You knew you shouldn't get involved in something that didn't concern you, and yet you hesitated to walk away. The monster was visibly trembling and looked to be no older than fourteen. Your heart nearly broke when you realized they were crying, but your sympathy quickly turned to rage when the guards only laughed at the poor kid's misery.

Taking a deep breath, you began to walk down the alley, your soft footsteps echoing off the brick walls. What were the odds this time? Could you convince these bullies to leave the monster alone? Or would they turn their anger on you instead? No matter the roll, you knew you had to do the right thing. It didn't take long for them to notice your presence, and while the first guard stayed still, the second immediately resumed an aggressive stance.

"Run along, citizen. This doesn't concern you."

You paused a few paces away from them, quietly observing the situation. "Leave them alone," you responded, keeping your tone carefully neutral for the time being.

The first guard suddenly took several steps closer, his hand on his sword. "Leave now, or I'll make you regret meddling with our duties."

You raised an eyebrow and shifted your weight from one foot to the other, mentally weighing your options. Your fingers twitched on your dominant hand, itching to reach for your knife, but you restrained yourself. Pulling a weapon on a trained guard was just asking for a quick trip to the grave and you weren't exactly keen on that. No, you needed to be diplomatic about this.

"They did nothing wrong. What kind of upholder of justice is so easily offended that they would beat up a kid?" You crossed your arms and firmly planted your feet in place. If you were going to take a hit, you were going to look him in the eye as he did it.

"they're right, you know..."

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end at the sound of the quiet voice. It was monotone, and yet you detected a hint of malice as the speaker trailed off, although he sounded like he had been attempting to disguise it. You heard slow, measured footsteps approaching from behind as the newcomer drew closer. He stopped at what you estimated was a few feet away and, against your better judgement, you tore your eyes away from the guard to see who it was.

The newcomer was shorter than you expected and you couldn't be sure if he was human, although you suspected he was a monster by his glowing eyes. Those eyes were like red hot coals, although the left had an icy ring of cyan as well. The harsh contrast between the two orbs gave him an unnerving appearance and you felt a chill run down your spine.

His face was obscured by the shadows from the surrounding buildings, but even if it wasn't, he was also wearing a hood. It seemed like he was wearing a crimson cuirass with chainmail over top and steel gauntlets. You could also see a shortsword strapped to his hip, but you weren't sure if he was a soldier or something else entirely.

The thin guard moved to stand with his partner, mirroring his aggressive stance. "This doesn't concern you either. Leave. Now."

A tense silence settled over the alley, only interrupted by quiet sniffling from the deer monster. The newcomer stood stock still, staring down the guards with clear disdain in his eyelights. You wanted nothing more than to leave, but you weren't about to abandon the kid.

The stranger took a slow step forward and then another, followed by another until he was standing next to you. In doing so, he stepped out of the darkness and you were surprised to see that he was a skeleton. Now, while you hadn't personally met any, several of the powerful families in the city were run by skeletons. They were a powerful subspecies of monster, most known for their naturally high mana levels and ability to learn multiple types of magic, something you didn't have.

Needless to say, you were immediately on guard. You didn't know if this skeleton was affiliated with any of the families, but you didn't want to risk it if that was the case. The last thing you needed was to tick off someone who could make your life even more of a living hell than it already was. Besides, he had a certain vibe about him that didn't sit right, like something was off, although you didn't know what.

"i think you should be the ones to leave," the stranger snarled, still staring down the two guards. "before you regret it..."

The bulkier guard started to draw his sword, only for the stranger to summon several bone bullets pointing right at him and his partner. The tips were sharpened to a fine point and their purple glow illuminated the surrounding area. You swallowed nervously at the blatant display of power, realizing this was escalating faster than you were comfortable with.

With a sigh, you reached down a pulled your dagger from your boot. It seemed like you would be lucky if you got to visit the industrial district at all today. You and the stranger might have a tentative alliance, but you still didn't like the odds of fighting two trained soldiers, especially since both were bigger than you.

"Look, can't you both just go? I don't have time for this today," you said, idly toying with your blade in an effort to mirror the stranger's boldness.

At this, the stranger summoned even more bone bullets. You heard him let out a quiet chuckle under his breath and when you glanced over, he had a manic looking grin stretched across his face. Being this close, you also noticed he had more pronounced canines, even though the rest of his teeth were flat. Had he sharpened them himself or was there another reason?

"N-now hold on...there's no need to be hasty," the first guard stammered, taking a step back.

The second one nodded, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead as he nervously eyed the glowing purple bullets. Both guards raised their hands in a placating gesture as they backed away from you.

"get out of here," the stranger growled.

The guards didn't need to be told twice, and the first nearly tripped over his own feet in his desperate attempt to leave as quickly as possible. You thought you heard one of them curse as they ran off, but you chose to ignore it.

Turning to the deer monster, you held out a hand to help them up. "You going to be okay, kid?"

They sniffled, but gave you a grateful nod as you hauled them to their feet. "Th-thanks..." they whispered before running off in the opposite direction of the guards.

You smiled and let out a sigh of relief. That could've gone much worse. It seemed like luck had been on your side once again. Why else had a stranger just shown up and gotten involved?

Hearing a shuffling sound, you turned and nearly bumped into the skeleton in question. He was giving you a strange look, but he didn't seem hostile at least.

You cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "So, I guess I should thank you, huh?"

He hummed quietly, his mismatched eyelights flicking over your face and briefly glancing down at your clothing. Then, he abruptly turned around and began walking away. "...just thank your lucky stars that i was nearby," he muttered, giving a small wave without looking back at you.

You were left more than a little confused.

~ ~ ~ (`°v°`) ~ ~ ~

Over the next few days, you started getting the distinct feeling of being watched. Most of the time there wasn't anyone around, but sometimes you would spot the stranger from the alley. The first time you made eye contact, his permanent grin widened before he walked away as if nothing weird was going on. Then, you began seeing him more often, always just standing off to the side, as if he wanted you to know that he was watching you.

It didn't escalate beyond that. He never showed up at your home, that you knew of, and he never actually made an effort to interact with you. He was stalking you, that much was very clear, but what could you do? Going to the guards was definitely a bad idea after you had sent the two from the alley running, and you weren't about to go see one of the families for fear he was involved with them.

You had other problems now anyways. Ever since that day in the alleyway, the local guards had been harrassing you more often than usual. At first it wasn't anything more than you could handle, since you weren't stupid enough to carry illegal items on your person, but then they started getting aggressive. They would follow you around so that you couldn't do anything without them knowing, and then the shakedowns started. One day you apparently had a suspicious amount of gold on your person, and nothing you could say would convince them otherwise. They ended up confiscating it for "evidence", leaving you with nothing for rent or even food.

So, after a fruitless day of searching for work, you were feeling discouraged, but rather than head home, you decided to go to your favourite spot in the city. It was an old cathedral with a tall clock tower that was relatively easy to break into since hardly anyone was ever around. Once inside, it was as simple as climbing a set of stairs to reach the top of the tower and then opening a hatch to see through the rocky crags to the narrow patch of night sky above.

Well, that's normally how it went. No sooner had you reached the top of the stairs and went to open the hatch, did you hear a creaking sound as someone else began ascending the steps as well. There was nowhere to hide in this room since it was completely devoid of any furniture, save for a few empty crates that were too small to conceal you.

You had been positive that no one had seen you break in, but there was always a possibility you had been wrong. Maybe the old vicar had been awake after all? You wondered if he could be convinced that you were an inspector, or if you would have to resort to putting on the destitute beggar act.

The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs, but when you weren't immediately called out for trespassing, you were confused. Slowly, you turned around, only to make eye contact with a pair of very familiar red with cyan eyelights.

Neither of you said anything for a minute. He was just staring at you with an indescribable look on his face. His body language was almost relaxed, although his burning mismatched eyelights told an entirely different story. Still, he made no move to attack, as if he wanted to see what you would do.

You wiped your clammy palms on your pants and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "What do you want?" you asked carefully.

He tilted his skull at the sound of your quiet voice and the corners of his permanent smile quirked up ever so slightly. "i want to know why you stood up for that kid," he answered, taking a few slow steps towards you.

You responded by taking a step back, although when your back hit the wall, you let out an involuntary gasp. At least he stopped just out of arm's reach, but you couldn't help feeling pinned against the wall from his intense gaze alone.

"It was the right thing to do."

He scowled and narrowed his eye sockets. "you couldn't have known that. they might have been caught stealing or something..."

You took a steadying breath to ease your anxiety. "Maybe so, but in the moment I saw that they were afraid. I've been where they were, and I remember wishing that someone would have stood up for me."

He held eye contact for a long moment before letting out a sigh and looking away. He tugged at his hood, as if trying to conceal his face further, but you still noticed how his frown dropped. He muttered something under his breath about "wishing he could still judge souls", but didn't seem like he had been speaking to you.

"either you're really good at lying," he started to say, still not looking at you. "...or you're being sincere. either way, i can't imagine why you'd stick your neck out like that in a city like this."

You sighed and shrugged helplessly. "Yeah, I know that wasn't the brightest thing to do, but I don't regret it either. I do wish the guards didn't have such fragile egos though..."

"power hungry freaks," the stranger spat, as if the very thought disgusted him. Then, he straightened his shoulders and looked up at you again. "on that note, i have a bit of a...proposition for you..."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Hold on, I don't even know who you are... You've been stalking me for days, and that sort of thing doesn't exactly make me think you could have good intentions, you know?"

He chuckled quietly and scratched the back of his skull. "i guess i was curious... it's not everyday that i meet someone with a strong sense of justice like you." He stepped closer and held out his hand, "i'm reven..."

You shook his hand cautiously, half expecting to get stabbed during the momentary distraction, but to your surprise nothing happened. "I go by Lucky these days. You're not actually from here, are you?"

"nah, i'm just passing through." He held your hand for a second too long and almost seemed hesitant to let go when he finally did. "now about my offer, i couldn't help but notice how the guards have been...taking out their frustration on you."

"No thanks to you revealing their true colours."

He nodded, his grin twitching with barely disguised glee. "well, i've decided that i like you and, since it's probably a good idea to lay low for a while, how about we get to know each other better? i'll get you out of the city and away from the guards for a while..."

He was practically screaming red flags. Sure, his body language wasn't hostile, but you could see a bit of tension in his shoulders and his tone of voice sounded sickly sweet compared to before. It was like he was planning to make you comply if you didn't immediately agree.

"You're...not asking, are you?"

His mismatched eyelights seemed to burn brighter and his smile widened. "you put it together faster than i expected... you're smart, i like that about you." He shook his head and added, "no, i'm not asking, but it would be nice if you didn't resist. i won't hurt you, unless i have to... i like you too much for that."

"What do you want from me?" you asked quietly.

"nothing malicious, i can promise you that. i just... i feel the need to keep you safe. people like you are a rarity these days..."

You studied him for a moment. While you certainly didn't trust him, he didn't seem like he was lying. He was definitely creepy, but he had been pretty straightforward this entire conversation. What choice did you have though? You had seen how powerful he was, and you had a bad feeling he wouldn't let you leave this cathedral without agreeing to go with him.

"I guess I have no choice..." you sighed.

He held out his hand expectantly. "yes you do. if you choose to trust me, then this will be the luckiest decision you've made in your life."

"Let me be the judge of that..."

You rolled your eyes and took his hand, but no sooner had you done so, did his grip tighten so you couldn't pull away. Your vision suddenly went black, and you felt as if the world had fallen away. He hadn't even warned you before whisking you away like that. You could only hope that your luck wouldn't run out anytime soon...

[waterfallofspace]

Ahhh I know I just asked for the Bingo for fyo/dor but is it okay to request a fyo/dor snz drabble? I'm looking for scenarios to draw uwu

It's absolutely fine if you don't wanna tho!

ofc!!~ I'm happy to write a lil somethin!~ (this came so easily, which is honestly such a relief hehe~ hopefully it's enjoyable, and can help be a bit of inspiration to get your own creative brain goin!~)

1.7k words, so a biiiit over what i said but it took me almost no time or strain, so I'm quite happy with that~ not super heavy on the snz, but hopefully still enjoyable!~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The melody could be heard echoing throughout the empty room. Each note seeming to take their turn to spread uninterrupted throughout the corridors.

Nikolai was out, on some mission Fyodor had hardly been listening to. Sigma was… well, at his casino probably. The man didn’t spend time anywhere else nowadays. 

It was peaceful, the solitude. Lonely for some, but Fyodor was not one of those souls who longed for companionship. The ability to play his cello, far from the prying ears and eyes of others, it was a welcome relief. 

Though, he came to realize quickly enough, he was not rid of all those who wished to pry just yet. He lets his eyes rest on a single corridor. Nothing moves, the stillness remains as unassuming as ever, and yet… he is not alone here. 

“Welcome,” Fyodor says, fingers never pausing their rhythmic strumming, bow tilting with his arm as he glides the strings against each other. “I was not expecting company so soon.” 

“But you were expecting me,” comes the reply, Dazai stepping carefully out of his position in the shadows. 

Fyodor simply nods the cello towards him, tilting his head back and opening a single eye to peer casually at the detective leaning against the wall. “Of course. You are surprised?” 

The game had begun long before either of them had spoken, and each move now was planned down to the letter. Right on cue, Dazai shook his head, letting a small chuckle slip from his lips. 

“Of course not,” Fyodor continued, letting his eyes drift shut again as the haunting melody begin to slow, a melancholy tune that sang of lost love and forgotten past. “There is no point in misleading, it is just us here.” 

“What a relief,” Dazai replies, lowering himself onto the floor and crossing his legs. “I was not looking forward to meeting whatever group you have with you down here in this place. Never was a fan of rats.” 

“And yet,” comes Fyodor’s response, fingers never missing a note. “You seem to have no issues with tigers.” 

There’s a pause. It’s not surprise, or fear, or even curiosity. Dazai is not sizing him up, nor weighing his options. Fyodor never pauses the song, cello singing out as his bow flies back and forth, slow and fast, each note at their time, in their place. 

“It’s beautiful,” Dazai finally says, after a long silence. His usual tone has… deepened. There’s something more genuine to it, and Fyodor opens his eyes and lowers his chin, meeting Dazai’s gaze. 

“It’s quite haunting, isn’t it?” 

There’s no answer, but then again, there was never going to be. Fyodor continues to play, and Dazai continues to listen. It’s not as simple as that, it never will be, never was, but in this moment… neither of them needs to draw attention to anything more that it might be. 

Eventually the melody draws to its end, Fyodor concluding it with a deep sigh, removing himself from his chair with a single movement. Dazai stands in the same, graceful as ever. Neither one makes a sound, not with voice or movement. They both stand for a moment, appreciating the silence in harmony. 

“Well,” Dazai says, the first to break it. He was always going to, but Fyodor can’t help the hint of disappointment that surges through his chest. Dazai continues, “That was lovely, but shall we get on with the real reason I’m here?” 

“I suppose,” Fyodor replies, turning his back to Dazai as he begins to tidy up the cello. “We both know why that is, do we not?” 

“I suspect we do.” 

“Then no need to beat around the bush,” Fyodor offers, turning to face Dazai with a soft smile. “What you have heard is true. Where you have heard it though, I admit I am not sure. Nikolai I suspect, though it doesn’t escape my notice that Sigma and him have been spending a fair amount of time, perhaps you got it from our dear casino owner instead.” 

“And you’re not going to, deny it?” Dazai responds, a hint of surprise lacing his tone. Whether it’s for show, or he’s truly surprised, Fyodor can’t be sure. He can’t help the chill of excitement that runs through him simply from that realization. That he isn’t sure. 

“What would be the point? I’ve known from the minute you walked in here that you were… shall we say, carrying something special,” Fyodor met Dazai’s eye, then drifted his gaze down to the bundle neatly contained in the inner jacket pocket. “A gift, I suspect? Or at least, under the guise of such.” 

The response is measured and slow, but deliberate. Dazai pulls out the parcel, and unwraps it to reveal a set of flowers that Fyodor had been seeing in his head since the second the scent reached him. Lilies, and beautiful ones at that. 

“They have quite the symbolic meanings, you know,” Dazai starts, taking a single step closer and beginning to twirl the lily through his fingers. Not unlike the way Fyodor held the bow to his cello, each stroke calculated and precise. 

“I’m aware, yes. Something about rebirth, new beginnings, and purity.” “Mm yes, but more than that,” Dazai continues, another step closer. Fyodor shows no noticeable sign of distress, he’s sure of that, but it takes conscious effort to resist the itch beginning to dance up the bridge of his nose. 

“Do tell?” 

“They symbolize innocence.” 

“Is that not the same as purity?” Fyodor offers back, though they both know it’s more of a lead-in than an actual question. Still, Dazai accepts the offer, moving one step closer as he does. It’s a dance, a back and forth, and their steps have thus far remained in sync. 

Not literal movement, Fyodor thinks, letting his mind slip for a second. In fact, since Dazai has drawn closer, he’s not moved a single step in any direction. He can’t help but wonder if Dazai knows why. 

Does he think it’s for fear of weakness? No, his weakness is on full display as Dazai draws the allergen closer with every step. Skilled as he may be at hiding it, there’s no doubt Dazai’s noticed the tremble in his breath, or the twitch of his nose. Pride? No again, neither of them are the type, and if Dazai thought he was, this dance wouldn’t be happening in the first place. 

No, Dazai is more than a simple adversary, and there’s no doubt in Fyodor’s mind that he knows exactly why he’s been allowed to get closer. For the thrill. 

It’s with a start that Fyodor realizes Dazai’s merely inches away, and has been talking this whole time. 

“You’re slipping, Dostoevsky,” Dazai says, a hint of disappointment in his tone, in harmony with amusement. “Distracted by something?” 

‘Yes,’ Fyodor thinks, ‘but not what you’d suspect.’ 

“I think you’ll find,” Dazai replies, answering the unspoken, “That you haven’t a clue what I might suspect.” 

Without a word, Fyodor turns on his heel abruptly. He doesn’t miss the single step back Dazai takes. There’s no surprise on his face, it’s purely to allow room. He can’t deny he’s grateful for that, as he draws his wrist up to his nose and lets loose the first set of stifles that he’d been building to since Dazai first step foot in the building. 

“hh’nGt!- eh’tNgt!- ngDt-! ah’kNGt! h’kgt-nh’dgt-ah’nngt!- ih’nGdT’uh!-” 

“Bless you,” Dazai hums. 

“Surprising, hearing that from you,” Fyodor responds, sniffling delicately against his wrist. “I didn’t think they had such customs around here.” 

“They don’t,” Dazai replies, his voice seeming to shed years like scales as he dipped back into something reminiscent of a teenager. “Just somethin’ I picked up from this annoying guy back in my Mafia days.” 

“And yet it stuck all this time,” Fyodor returns, rushing his words a touch more than he’d normally allow. The next fit was working its way through his sinuses, stifling had done him no favours, and his time was limited. “Must have been someone important if it worked its way this deep into your vocabulary.” 

“Ehh,” Dazai says, twirling the lilies and flicking his eyes down to Fyodor’s nose. No doubt twitching already, it’s all he can do to keep his nostrils from flaring, the tickle spreading deep and quick, like a forest fire through a dead valley. “More like someone who wouldn’t stop using it. Though I think it embarrassed him almost as much as those he used it on.” 

“Might have been the appeal?” Fyodor replies, well aware it’s the last he’ll get before-

“Don’t think so, not his style. More ours,” Dazai pauses, a grin shining out from his eyes alone. “Not done yet?”

They both know the answer. 

“hH’ishhuh!” Fyodor barely has time to turn again, this time cupping both his hands over his face as the fit breaks free. Stifling is more work than help at this point, no point suppressing this. “hH’TShh’uh!- eh’TSHhuh! tshhh’uh! tsHHh’uh!” 

“Blessings again- oh, still more?” 

The taunt is well understood, Fyodor hadn’t even stopped sneezing during that time. It was a show, a display, ‘I know you can’t stop, and I know this weakness.’ In other circumstances he might have been concerned, been planning counter moves long in advance, a way out, a way to end his opponent where they stand– 

“hhISHh’uh! iShh’uh! tzZSHhh’uh!” 

–But this game was long from over, and this move was merely a performative one. I know your weaknesses the same you know mine. For… enjoyment more than anything else. 

By the time Fyodor catches his breath enough to look up, the lilies are placed delicately on the chair beside the cello, wrapped in a thin piece of paper. Dazai himself, is nowhere to be seen. 

Leaning down, Fyodor unwraps it, pausing to direct another fit into his wrist, “hHishh’uh! iShhh’uh! tSHhh’uh! tiEShh’uh!” 

‘Bless you’, reads the paper. 

Fyodor smiles, reaching down and moving the lilies to the floor, before taking his seat once again. He picks up the bow, leans the cello between his legs, and begins to play anew. This time the melody is sweeter, something more airy, more innocent, more pure. 

“ishh’uh!- tShh’tshh’tshh-uh!” 

And not uninterrupted. 

[jelliclelikeyouu]

Jellicle Drabbles #1: Rain

feat. young tugger & munk

“Why do you always venture out furthest on the days I told you it was going to rain?" Munkustrap huffed, aiming for a scolding tone but landing somewhere between amused and affectionate.

The dripping furball of a kitten that was Tugger shrugged, a huge effort with the weight of his soaked mane on his shoulders. He didn't respond, and he didn't need to.

The way Tugger leaned into his warmth without protest when Munkustrap took pity on him, wrapping his little brother in a towel he kept for this exact reason and pulling him into his arms, was answer enough

hello there!

i'll try to post a drabble every day, kinda forcing myself to put these silly cats into actual words!! (100 words to be exact, bc we follow the drabble rules around here)

feel free to send me random words/short prompts, characters, ships whatever, i wanna get used to writing all of them!!

starting of with some soft deut brothers bc that's what i'm all about man! i like to imagine tugger had a huge growth spurt once cat-human-hybrid-whatever-they-are puberty hit, but was this tiny little kitten with paws too big for him and a huge mane he had to grow into first. just this awkward little mess of way too much fur.

an awkward mess who needs cuddles from his big bro like air but is obviously way too Cool™️ and Grown Up™️ to ask for them. communication?? not with munk & tugger!!

[landinrris]

You're The First Thing That I'm Thinking Of

Pairings: Carlos/Lando

Overall Rating: T

“If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” Tags: Spa 2021, Lando's Qualifying Crash, Minor Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort,  

Lando and Carlos tease each other on the parade truck during the Austria 2022 race weekend.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should." Tags: Austria 2022 Driver's Parade, Mild Exhibitionist Tendencies, Teasing, They're too in love for their own good

Lando crashes during qualifying in Spa and Carlos is there to make sure he's okay

Or: An ever-to-be-updated collection of Carlando-related drabbles based on different generated prompts

[poisoned-pearls]

What if in first year au they were play fighting and tickling each other but then they broke something (I NEED THEM TO BE CHAOTIC FIRST YEARS PLS)

“Jamil, hey- stop it! Hey- it’s not funny-!” Azul wheezed out, laughs making his words far less effective at trying to actually get Jamil to stop tickling him, “please!- come onnnn- have mercy!”

He did decide to have mercy on him, ceasing his movements for a moment, which was a poor decision on Jamil’s part, because Azul took the opportunity to push him onto his side instead.

Both of them continued to play-fight, abusing Azul’s brand new housewarden room privileges for all it was worth.

Which includes the many, many sleepovers. Really, Azul would love to stay over at Scarabia, but as he had learned, Jamil’s roommates did not like him that much. Jamil had said it was because they seemed jealous of the fact that Jamil had gotten a boyfriend faster than anyone had ever expected, but Azul couldn’t believe that was the only reason. He’d seen how they’d watched him in class… he had his theories. (So did the twins, but they’d always been more wild with their ideas)

”I cant believe you- betrayal of the highest order.” Jamil deadpanned at him, not making much of an effort to sit back up, but gladly pulling Azul down on top of him.

“you’re the one who pulled out the tickling card. I can’t believe you. I didn’t even know that was a thing!”

“What, you don’t have tickling underwater?” Jamil questioned, turning his head towards the Oceanside window.

“No! You land-dwellers are so weird.” Azul finished, sitting up on the side of his bed, “I can’t believe half of the things you guys say.”

Jamil shoved him, playful and noncommittal. “Really? Like what?”

“Like gym! One of your whole class periods is taken up by torture??” He laughed out, exasperated.

“Gym is not ‘torture’, Azul.”

“Yes it is! You’re telling me it’s a requirement to go run around in sweaty clothes for an hour then go back inside, change, and just… go around school like that for the rest of the day?!” Azul’s hands came up to lightly slap him back.

”it’s only torture to you,” Jamil retorted, shoving him onto his back for effect, “not my fault you’re weak.”

Azul stays on his back for a moment, turning his head to look at Jamil for a moment. He’d always thought Jamil’s face was so pretty, full of sharp angles and ‘mean’ features that made his heart swirl. Too bad he had a fight to win.

He swung his other arm behind him, grabbing a pillow before smacking it right across Jamil’s face. Jamil’s face split into a wide grin as he lunged for the pillow in Azul’s hand. They stumbled around for a moment, fighting for control over a pillow as if their weren’t three others on his bed.

The kept fighting, with no real malice behind it, until a pouch crash echoed through the room. Azul’s bottle of ink was spilled across the floor, knocked over from Azul’s legs.

They both scrambled up, Azul blurting out a quick “I’ll get a towel-“ before running off to his bathroom.

“why was your ink pot on your nightstand??” Jamil let out, exasperated as he caught the towel Azul threw at him.

“I was working on a contract last night-“

“in bed?!?”

“Don’t question my methods!”

“This was bound to happen!” He shoved the towel onto the spill.

Azul kneeled down next to him, pulling in Jamil for a quick kiss before sweeping up the glass, “there, do you forgive me now?”

“I’m not mad, ‘Zul, I just don’t think you need to be working so late you’re still writing in bed.”

“…okay,” Azul sighed. He had been working late lately, maybe he should relax a bit more.

He glanced up at the boy next to him. Yeah, maybe he should.

[displayheartcode]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! ❤️

I have accidentally deleted this four times 🥲

1. heart, i implore you - This is a concept that I nailed by having El from A DEADLY EDUCATION explore different schools of magic in these crossover snapshots

2. along the churchyard green - Harry as the Master of Death, but he’s harassed by folklore from the British Isles instead of being overpowered

3. all the night-tide - Andy and Quynh as time traveling assassins inspired by THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR (the best novella ever!!!!)

4. perchance to dream - @annerbhp said any trope is love, so I gave her a collection of Harry and Ginny’s mishaps with the Daydream Charms. It’s not my most ridiculous fanfic, but I had the vampire scene burning in a file for ages

5. hear the nightingale - There is a lot to say about this fic other than it’s 3k words of Harry/Ginny smut set in a very niche AU, but Ron’s storyline in this was my favorite thing to write. As our main couple deals with a FWB plot, he’s having a sexuality crisis. I’m a firm believer in secondary characters experiencing different genres!

Thank you!

This is open to all!

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — lite beer.

JUNE 3, 1989, 2:04 PM

“We’re gonna throw a rager for you, McFly,” It’s the end of practice and Mike’s grinning, a look that Marty knows from pretty much a lifetime of experience only means trouble. 

“You’re not gonna know what hit ya!” Jake laughs, pulling him in for a one-armed hug and ruffling his hair. “Our fearless leader is finally gonna be able to get wasted with the rest of us.” 

“C’mon, I’m not that much younger than you guys,” Marty protests. “Anyway, I’m happy just goin’ up to the lake again this year.”

“Be bold, Marty!” Jake encourages. “You only turn 21 once! Plus, when the record comes out next month, you’re gonna have to be ready for all the best parties.”

“Yeah, but–”

“If Marty wants to go to the lake, we’ll go to the lake,” Scotty says definitively, offering Marty a reassuring smile. “Now, let’s try it one more time from the top.” 

There’s a mischievous look in Mike and Jake’s eyes that proves that this conversation definitely isn’t over. 

JUNE 3, 1989, 4:07 PM

“Hey, Doc?” Marty calls, kicking up his skateboard and tucking it under his arm as he walks into the Clayton-Brown household. “I know chemistry isn’t really your thing, but is there any way we can make a compound that looks and smells like alcohol but isn’t? Or one that makes something alcoholic non-alcoholic?... Maybe by next Saturday?” 

He hesitates, looking at @doctorbrown . 

“I think the guys are planning something big for my birthday,” he tells him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Which is great, but… I don’t wanna drink and I don’t really know how to tell ‘em. I think Scotty gets it, but Mike and Jake…”

He remembers all too well, even though it’s from another life, another world, a place that doesn’t even exist anymore. He remembers the stench of wine, like rotting fruit, on his mother’s breath, her pouring vodka into her favorite glass as soon as the clock hit the midafternoon. Her constant insistence that she didn’t have a problem even though Marty could see it, plain as day, and he begged her to lay off a little. Him trying to stay out as late as possible whenever they were out as a family so that she would stay sober for just a couple more hours. He remembers half-lidded eyes, her dropping off to sleep after dinner, being worried whenever she mixed painkillers with her drinks before bed that she might not wake up.

More than anything, he remembers his promise to himself that he’d never end up like that. Ever.

“... I guess I’m not makin’ any sense, huh?” Marty sighs. “I know the stuff with my mom back home didn’t happen here… but it did happen. It was real, even if it’s not anymore.”

[monimolimnion]

I FINISHED WRITING A FIC AGAIN 🎉🎉

[owoshrike]

I haven't written a fight scene in so long and it's showing LMAOOO

Good news is, it's told from the perspective of someone getting trained so it still works with the messiness

[serenescribe]

Three sentence meme!

Epel has a nightmare and Vil comforts him

[✐meme] three sentence fic meme [✐] ficlet frenzy

"Have you been awake all night?" Vil asks incredulously as he walks into Pomefiore's kitchen, halting in his steps at the sight of one exhausted Epel Felmier, leaning against a table with heavy bags weighing down his eyes. Pomefiore has a curfew in place, and as the housewarden, Vil knows it is his responsibility to make sure they all adhere to it — including Epel.

But when Epel doesn't react to his words, merely glancing over at him before returning to stare at the table, Vil... softens. He'd expected a snippy remark, or a reluctant apology, not complete silence — is there something else going on?

While it is true that it is his responsibility to make sure those under his dorm adhere to his rules... it is also his responsibility to take care of them where necessary.

Sliding into the chair next to the boy, Vil presses an elbow into the table, resting a hand against his cheek as he faces Epel. "Epel," he begins, voice gentle, "is there perhaps something bothering you? Why have you stayed up overnight?"

"...'m had a nightmare." Epel ducks his head as he murmurs, as if embarrassed by his words.

"What about?"

The boy sucks in a breath. "...STYX. The Phantoms. Idia's overblot. I know we've all gotten out fine, and that you 'n everyone else could take care of yourselves, but..." A shaky laugh. "I'unno," Epel mutters, raising his head though still averting his gaze, "it didn't really feel all that daunting while we were there, but when you're busy dreaming about you 'n Rook dyin', it... kinda don't make you wanna go back to sleep, huh?"

...Ah.

He reaches out to rest a hand over Epel's, causing the boy to glance over at him.

"I understand," Vil says softly — he has been haunted by these nightmares as well, jolting awake more than once with horrific dreams of Epel and Rook dying fresh in his mind, so really, who is he to fault Epel for staying up over it?

He can always lecture the boy over the importance of a good night's rest later and send him on his way with some concealer. For now, though...

"Would you like a cup of tea, Epel?"

"...That'd be nice. Thank you, Vil."

[not-equippedforthis]

who up writing they sillage

[keikaru]

Rainflower - HSR (Jing Yuan & Blade)

Around them, the sun in the sky sets like a diadem crowning the earth.

Their paths converge at an abandoned shipping dock on the Luofu, where all noise slumbers and where foot-traffic is nonexistent.

Jing Yuan sees Yingxing for the first and final time.

“So we meet in the same pond,” Jing Yuan says with a light cadence.

But the general knows they are not like the koi fish that gaze at the petals rippling the surface. Instead, they are the wind that scatters the blooms. They perform their role like how water smooths over the surface like jade.

Jing Yuan searches for a face whose smile exceeds the value of gold. A face that time does not touch—Jing Yuan remembers Yingxing’s features like yesterday. His smooth marble face is without any imperfections save for a crescent rounding down the corners of his mouth. 

“And you never fail to stir my ire,” Blade returns sharply. 

When their eyes meet, the lull of their youth pulls the general almost into a catatonic state of remembrance. But instead of nostalgia engulfing him, Blade’s eyes draw him inside a hurricane of emotions.

Dancing with a flame is like falling into an inferno. A heart that dances with flames of that intensity lives only for a second—Jing Yuan knows this. But the man he sees standing across from him stares not at him, but through him like an eyepiece. Blade strides by him without a word, without commiserating in their shared youth, without remembering their days when he answers to another name with a flask in hand.

Yingxing, where have you been all this time?

So Jing Yuan lets him pass without a fight.

A fondness slumbers inside the general’s chest, one that he cannot speak into words about the other man. 

So when Blade passes, Jing Yuan lets him go without looking back. After all, there is nothing for Blade to look at when Jing Yuan is a one-way mirror.  

“You let your body fall into the inferno and your mind in the void,” Jing Yuan speaks, low and melancholic as his eyes shift to the rose-smoke sky above. “What of your heart, I wonder?”

Blade keeps moving in the direction of a blooming tree. He fails to register the general’s words.

But Jing Yuan is a liar. He immediately turns around. He cannot bear to lose him again—not another friend. Not when Yingxing is only an arm’s length away. He is not gone. His presence is still here. Yingxing is only slumbering and will return as flowers do when spring arrives.

He’s not gone. He’s not gone.

Ah, but he is gone.  

Jing Yuan’s eyes trace the broadness of Blade’s shoulders, his back, the firm curve of his arm—and how the wind whips his dark volcanic hair around like a raven beating its wings. When the breeze drops, Blade’s hair flutters out like the ends of a butterfly’s wings, and Jing Yuan’s heart lurches. That familiar silhouette no longer calls out to him.

The dulcet tones of nostalgia blind his eyes, and the trace wetness in his eyes betrays grief. Without thinking, Jing Yuan calls out to him.

“Your heart is not a timepiece for your death.”

Blade stills and turns around. 

Red like lycoris, his eyes glower viciously at the general. Jing Yuan doesn’t recoil from his expression. But the pressure Blade exerts increases tenfold.

“Like snipping the stem of a flower,” Blade spits out venomously, “how easy it is then, to crush the windpipe of a general?”

Read the full fic on AO3

[souridealist]

FFXIVwrite day 5: 'stamp'; true drabble

The wood of the carved stamp is cool under Tataru’s hand. Her papers have gotten muddled: there’s a letter from the Sultana, a bill for sixty ponzes of popotoes, a sheaf of letters from Yoshan, an accounts summary from Hancock, another bill from the laundress for all the bed linen…

What there isn’t is a reply to any of Krile’s desperate letters; those go straight to Krile. Tataru sometimes looks regardless, as if a way to wake their friends might fall like a miracle from between the accounts.

For now she stamps the Scions’ mark on another letter, and prays.

[flurry-of-stars]

"You had been waiting for this moment for two years. You had always respected Sigma’s want to wait until marriage to go the whole way but now that it was almost time… You felt…nervous." ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽♡☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ New fic soon ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧