#BUT I had fun writing it

[daistea]

If you ever have the time, would you ever feel like taking a request with mithrun x an elf reader who's been taking care of him for a while? I've been thinking that they'd know of each other pre-demon, but weren't well acquainted (different circles, and reader is more introverted (like misril)) at the time until post-demon where they help nurse him to health and mayhaps join the canaries as a healer/support for the group.

If that's too specific, that's fine! You can take liberties.

If youre like "yeah that plain just won't happen with mithrun/hes not like that", that's fine! You don't need to write it if you don't want to

I don't want to force you or anything; it's just something that's been floating in my mind, recently!

Of course my friend! You asked so nicely <3

I think I’ll use she/her pronouns for the reader with this one if that’s cool! 

Sooooo I’m assuming Mithrun was one of the Wardens in his squad. I don’t recall if it ever mentioned if he was in the first squad or the second. If it’s the second, then Milsiril might’ve been the Vice-Captain of his specific squad at the time, and Mithrun was her second in command like Pattadol is to him now. Cus u know Pattadol is second in command because she’s nobility, and Mithrun is nobility.. Yadda yadda. Let’s just go with that for simplicity’s sake. And since there’s only two Wardens to a squad, I’ve taken the liberty of making the reader a criminal, but it’s for something stupid like… jaywalking lol. Jaywalking using black magic. Or uh maybe using black magic to heal. Both? Two criminal charges, you rebel you

anywho..

tw suicide, mental illness, self harm, blood

Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead! 

4500ish words

"Vignettes of a 40 Year Old Desire" - Mithrun x elf/healer female reader

●・○・●・○・●

Getting started was the hardest part.

You took a deep breath, your hands hovering over the wound. The slice in Mithrun’s arm was clean, with no brutal ridges. It would scar, but it would be a straight, neat white line on his skin when it was over. Even Mithrun’s wounds were perfect. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft, and it reminded you of warm blankets on winter days. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and he offered a smile. 

“Yeah,” you said. You sat beside him with your legs curled up beneath you. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, casual as if his bicep hadn’t just been nearly sliced open by the sword of a living armor. He had to be in pain, it was a deep wound. You’d managed to stop the excessive bleeding, but the paleness of his cheeks betrayed that he was feeling weak. 

Still, starting was the hardest part. 

You summoned your stores of mana, connecting to the spirits that made up the world. They were all around you, willing to obey, willing to lay upon Mithrun’s wound and graft his skin back together. A soft light glowed from beneath your palm as you ran your fingers around the edges of the wound. You weren’t sure why getting started was difficult for you, perhaps it was the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins that startled you, or the very fact that you had the ability to defy nature in this way. And there was that little bell that rang in the back of your mind, that urge to go further, deeper, darker. 

That damn bell and its ringing had gotten your ears clipped. 

You pulled back from Mithrun, letting your hands drop into your lap. “Done,” was all you said.

He blinked in surprise, then lifted his arm to inspect the spot where he’d been sliced. There was a faint scar, but it would probably fade if he got some sun. His lips twitched into a frown at the sight, but that expression immediately died, pushed aside and replaced with a smile. Mithrun didn’t need the sun, actually, he carried enough shine in his smiles…. Is what someone stupid would say. 

“Thank you,” his voice was soft, polite. He pushed down the sleeve of his canary uniform and rolled his shoulders. Nearby, the rest of the team was setting up camp for the night. They laughed and passed around a wineskin. There was a spot on the ground between two of your peers, saved for Mithrun. Milsiril was a distance away with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. She had a sewing needle that she meticulously threaded through the body of a ragdoll. 

You expected Mithrun to stand up and cross the room to join the others. Yet, he didn’t. He stared at you, two silver eyes filled with curiosity. You returned the look and raised a brow as if to silently ask what he needed. 

Finally, Mithrun offered a slightly bashful smile, “You don’t really socialize much, do you? Oh,” he perked up, eyes widening, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I mean, you’re shy, right? I just don’t know that much about you.”

And that drove him mad. 

You were entirely too aware of Mithrun’s true nature. The others were too busy basking in his light, caught up in his orbit, trapped in his web. Even Milsiril deigned to notice. She could’ve if she wanted, she simply didn’t want to— it would be like looking in the sun, and once you got past the blinding light and actually looked, you would already be burnt. 

You saw the looks on his face when nobody was looking. You didn’t mean to see them, you didn’t mean to stare, but it had become a habit to watch his reactions. There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes sometimes, the hint of a frown when someone didn’t play his game exactly how he planned. There were moments when his shoulders would tense and his smile would turn tight. There were moments he’d avoid answering questions about himself and turn the subject around on the inquirer to keep his history and feelings and thoughts hidden behind a very sturdy, well-guarded wall. 

You were more interested in him than you’d like to admit. You’d drawn several conclusions: Mithrun genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help but scowl when they weren’t looking and judge their decisions and look down on everything they said and did. He even did it to you.

Which was precisely why you avoided him for the most part. You didn’t want him to know more about you, to provide more ammunition so he could reload his weapon and fire it straight into your back. 

So, all you had to say was, “Yeah, we don’t really talk much.” And you smiled as innocently as you could before standing up and wandering to a corner near Milsiril. 

Mithrun’s eyes lingered on your back. He was probably making that face he made when displeased that his charm didn’t work; analytical, a hint of darkness, one could practically see the red-inked assumptions scribbling onto parchment in his head, destined to be filed under a wildly critical and exaggerated category and kept there until the end of time. 

You only wished you understood why he was like that. 

Mithrun disappeared without warning. The squad had been dispatched to the Central Observation Tower because yet another person had disappeared in the area. Mithrun offered to take his friend’s scouting duty into a dark tunnel because she was afraid of spiders and was convinced that there were millions of them in that specific dark tunnel. Milsiril offered to send you along with him, but at that time you were trying to heal a sprained ankle of another squad member. Mithrun waved a dismissive hand and smiled, “It’s no problem. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks!”

That was the last you saw of him. 

Milsiril had someone slumped on her arm. She held them up, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and blood and dirty blood. You rushed toward the scene. The person had silver hair caked with quickly drying streaks of red. His head lolled. But he was breathing. Thank goodness, he was breathing. 

Milsiril gently laid Mithrun on the ground. Immediately, you sat beside him, your hands on his cheeks and forcing open his eyes— eye. Singular. The right one was a mess. There was no time to question that, though. You summoned a light spell and opened his eyelid and black irises greeted you. Weren’t his eyes silver before? It was dim, too. Yet, his chest moved up and down and his heart was still beating. You let go of his face and he closed his eyes again, head lolling to the side as he let out a soft exhale. 

“So, this is where he’s been?” You asked Milsiril.

She nodded, “He became the dungeon lord. This place…” she glanced up at the twisted walls and long corridors that led to nowhere. There were monster corpses nearby. So many monsters, strong ones, weird ones with horrific teeth and eyes. “It’s a representation of him. I never knew…”

You knew, sort of. You just didn’t think it would get to this level. You didn’t think he’d fall to the demon. You didn’t think—

There was no time for thinking. You had to get started on healing him. For once, getting started wasn’t so hard, not when your heart raced, not when you were desperate for someone to live.

When Mithrun was conscious again, you offered your hand to help him stand. 

He didn’t take it. 

Of one thing you were certain: Mithrun of the house of Kerensil had no desire to live.

“You should’ve let me die.”

You perked up at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Mithrun had spoken in perhaps a month, and his vocal cords betrayed that fact. His voice was scratchy with disuse, and it was a struggle for him to speak. As you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, he didn’t bother meeting your eyes. His gaze was on the window near his bed, but he wasn’t looking at anything, not really.

“I should’ve let you die?” You echoed. You could hear the anger in your own voice. Mithrun didn’t care, you knew.

He simply nodded. A lock of silver fell over his bony shoulder. His collarbones were too pronounced. The sight made a fire start in your chest. 

“Mithrun?” You asked. 

He turned his head to look at you. One eye, as black as an endless pit, landed on your face. The other was covered by bandages. 

And he waited. He didn’t actually care about what you had to say, you knew. But you had to say it. 

“Don’t ever say those words to me again.”

Mithrun only stared, “Alright.”

Then he returned his attention to the window that he was not looking out of. 

You don’t know when or why you started to care so much. 

You’d always cared about people. You’d always wanted to help. But you didn’t even really like Mithrun before the dungeon incident. Now, his recovery was all you could focus on. And you were absolutely obsessed with the state of things. 

“I don’t know what to do,” his brother whispered, desperate, “I’ve hired so many caretakers but they just don’t do anything for him. I mean, they do things, but he’s not getting any better.”

Someone had to break the news to him. “I don’t think anything we do is going to make him any better.”

“I want him to be better,” his brother furrowed his brows and took a deep breath.

You wanted the same. But for now, all you could do was keep Mithrun alive. As long as he ate and slept and breathed, that was good enough for now. That was all he could manage. 

You visited the Kerensil family home more often these days. You weren’t sure why, but you cared. When he screamed at night and scratched himself to the point of bleeding, you healed him without a word. When he got ahold of a kitchen knife and put it to his throat, you wrestled it away from him, then helped his brother install locks on all the cabinets and drawers. When Mithrun snuck out at night to go slaughter every goat within a 50 mile radius, you cleaned the blood from his hair and hands. 

You’d basically moved in. The captain had given you permission to dedicate time to Mithrun’s healing, since they would’ve liked to have him join again once he was better. To the other Canaries, this was part of your sentence. To you, this was part of your purpose. 

You and Mithrun talked a lot. You talked the most. He stayed quiet, so you weren’t sure if you could consider it as actually holding a conversation. You weren’t sure if he was even listening. But once, when you were softly explaining the importance of getting rune shapes exactly right, you stopped and stared at your hands. You’d begun to enter dark territory, the study of black magic that had brought you to this place in life. 

The silence stretched on for a minute or two before Mithrun tilted his head. His hair was splayed out on his pillow and his good eye was open, blinking, slightly alert. 

“Continue,” he said. 

So you continued. And he stared at the ceiling. And you knew that he was listening. He didn’t care, of course, but he was listening. 

One night, Mithrun nearly hit a vital organ with a piece of glass from the bathroom mirror that he’d shattered. 

You healed it, the light from your hands growing brighter than usual. Your shoulders were tense and you couldn’t help but scowl and growl and mutter. 

Mithrun just looked at you, “You know this isn’t what I want.”

“I don’t care,” you answered immediately.

He grit his teeth, “I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live!” You exploded. He flinched backward, but no emotion passed over his face. He simply stared. You gulped down your feelings and continued healing him. 

Maybe that was selfish of you. You didn’t care. 

Milsiril was a mother. Milsiril was a caretaker. Milsiril was a toymaker and she knew how to wind them up and set them on the path again. 

“I’m ready to go back into the dungeon,” Mithrun said. His voice was still scratchy, but he was sitting up on his bed for once. He’d gained a few pounds and his shoulders weren’t sharp as knives anymore.

Milsiril only shook her head, “Not yet, I’m sorry.”

Mithrun looked at you as if he expected you to ally with him. You knew him the best, you knew what he wanted in life. You even knew what his secret desire was, the one he couldn’t admit to himself. 

You shook your head as well, “You’re still underweight and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of taking care of yourself yet.”

Mithrun’s expression only darkened, “Then let’s keep practicing.”

Where Milsiril was more concerned with making Mithrun socially acceptable enough to rejoin society, you were much more concerned about his living conditions, health, and dignity. It was a relief that he’d stopped trying to pick the locks on the knife drawer. It was not a relief that Mithrun was planning for his inevitable death against the demon— not that he’d admit that. 

He wanted different things now. No longer was his goal to die from withering away, but rather to die at the hands of the god who once served him. Still, it involved him dying. There was this feeling you had inside, comparable to the feeling you had when you were first being hunted by the Canaries. You knew it was inevitable that they would find you and jail you or make you join them. Anticipation rose in your chest until it finally burst when they tied up your wrists and clipped your ears. 

Now, anticipation was rising again. It had been rising for the last twenty or so years that you’d spent at Mithrun’s side. You could only wonder when it would burst, and when you’d end up as scraps on the floor like the shreds of a popped balloon. You could only wonder. 

When Mithrun rejoined the Canaries, you went with him. He said nothing about that. You were the one who cut his hair shorter for functionality reasons. You were the one who delivered his new uniform and made sure it fit. You were the one who sat on his back as he did push ups for training— which was actually the most fun with him you’d had in the last twenty years. It was kind of silly, but it was good to see him willing to do things like exercise and challenge himself, even if his end goal was just to reach the demon. 

There was a lot of teasing involved when you two returned to the Canaries. 

“Are you in love with him or something?” Helki asked behind his hand. He cast a glance at Mithrun, who was sitting nearby and silently staring out the window. 

You made a face, “With Mithrun? No. I love him, but not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He snorted, “You’ve been like his little wife for the last few decades.”

“I don’t think I would consider all that as wife-like,” you retorted. 

“Why do you do it, then?”

Was it truly so impossible for someone to comprehend caring for another individual without expecting something in return? Or not having a motive? You supposed there was a motive, but it wasn’t romance. You just… cared. You wanted him to stay alive and get better. And he was relatively better, now. Relatively. 

You patted Helki’s shoulder, “Because he’s my friend. Nothing more.”

You didn’t notice, but Mithrun’s head tilted. He always listened to you, even when you didn’t think so.

“Can you help her?” Flamela jutted a thumb toward where you and Mithrun sat. Her voice, louder than everybody else’s in the Canary’s headquarters, caught your attention. Mithrun kept his arms crossed and his gaze on the recruits training outside.

Cithis blinked in surprise. Her eyes landed on you and you returned the look with a hesitant smile. 

“It’s a lot to explain,” Flamela continued, “but Captain Mithrun needs help and [name] needs a break.”

Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t expressed needing a break before. You were fine. You liked taking care of Mithrun. Yet before you could protest, Flamela was already walking away. And Cithis stood there with her hands folded and her eyes curious, analyzing. 

Dread settled into your chest.

“You’re not some helpless baby, Mithrun,” you didn’t mean to yell, nor pace, nor gesture so wildly with your hands, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re not a dog, not a slave, not someone who can be exploited for entertainment! You’re a person and you deserve respect!”

Mithrun only raised a brow, “So, you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped, sounding quite mad at him. Yet you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath, “No, Mithrun, I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. I just wish people saw you as more than what you’re going through. You’re the damn Captain of the Canaries now, you’ve risen above some really tough shit and you’re capable and strong and—”

Lord. 

The realization hit you like a slap to the face. 

You froze, mouth hanging open, eyes on Mithrun. He only stared, as he tended to do, waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t. You’d been slapped in the face by reality and now everything ached. 

“I’ve got to go,” you managed to squeak out before running toward the door. You left his bedroom behind and darted down the hallway of the Canaries Headquarters. You shared a room with a few other criminals, but they weren’t there when you burst inside and collapsed onto your bed. You were in your late 100’s yet there you were, screaming into your pillow like a 60 year old. 

You’re in love.

“I’m in love,” you said out loud, which you immediately regretted because that made things real. 

You’re in love. You’re in love. You’re in love and it hurts so much because Mithrun could never love you back. Were you a masochist? Probably. Your heart hurt. You suddenly understood the concept of heartbreak, it felt as if your heart was about to physically fall apart. Realizing that you’re in love should be a happy moment. It shouldn’t hurt so much. 

Alright, you decided. You’re going to ignore it like an adult. You’re going to take this secret to the grave. 

Captain Mithrun’s team was a mess. 

But they were fun. 

“Hey,” Lycion elbowed you one night at the dinner table. He leaned down to whisper while you were mid-bite of a piece of chicken. “Do you think the Captain would let me check out the fighting scene on that island? Like, we could put off the whole negotiations thing for a day so I can go see it?”

Mithrun personally wouldn’t care, you knew, but he would refuse Lycion’s request for the sake of getting into the dungeon faster. You swallowed your food and sent him a glance, “Why’re you asking me? Pattadol’s the one that does all the decision stuff with Mithru— the Captain.”

“But you know him best.”

True enough. Still, you were just the healer, still a criminal sentenced to another 40 or so years of Canary service. You sent Lycion an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I don’t think he would.”

“Can you ask him?” Lycion used that purring voice he always utilized on certain targets unwilling to obey. 

You remained unaffected, “I don’t see why you think me asking him would make a difference.”

“The Captain would do anything you asked!” He explained, “Within reason, of course. You’re his girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you forced the satisfaction down. “I’m not his girl. And he pretty much does whatever anyone tells him to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with his goals, so I’m not any different.”

“You’re blind,” Lycion muttered, “so blind.”

Mithrun had been pulled into the stupid pit thing or whatever with that stupid Kabru guy. You were going to pull your hair out. 

When he reunited with the Canaries, he actually looked rather well-taken care of. You begrudgingly admitted that Kabru may not be as stupid as you thought, but you couldn’t let go of your anger at the entire situation. You still wanted to pull your hair out, mostly because you were resisting the urge to wrap your arms around the Captain and squeeze until your bodies melted together. 

Mithrun noticed your stress and slowly approached you. He patted your head, “I’m fine,” he said. 

He could be shot in the chest and he’d still claim to be fine. 

“When this is all over,” you managed to say through the fog of anger and worry and adoration and fury, “we’re taking a holiday. We’ll go to the Eastern Archipelago and we’re sitting on the beach and we’re going to do very safe things like build sandcastles or take naps.”

Mithrun looked down at you. He stared, as was his tendency. Then he raised both brows and you thought that just for a second, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. An affectionate smile. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, an illusion brought forth by stress. You weren’t sure. 

His hand that was on your head slowly ran down the side of your cheek and to your chin, lifting your face so you’d look at him. He didn’t hold you for long, though, letting his arm drop to his side when he had your attention. “When we have time, I will go where you go,” he said. 

You wanted to smack him in his stupid beautiful face for being so sweet. What was wrong with him? Was he in a good mood? You could only narrow your eyes in suspicion. 

Of course, Mithrun walked away after that, back to the mission at hand. Yet his words echoed. I will go where you go. 

That was more like something you would say to him. You’ve made the decision to be at his side for the last 40 years. You would follow him to the ends of the earth. 

Surely, he didn’t mean it. 

But then again, Mithrun wasn’t in the habit of lying unless it served his purpose. And he wouldn’t lie to you, of all people. Surely not. 

The demon was gone and Mithrun had lost his purpose in life. 

How scary, you thought. How terrifying to lose your one reason for living. You’d most likely be on the ground, slumped up against a tree and expecting to wither away just like him. But unlike you, Mithrun had people who cared for him, who wouldn’t accept that fate for him, who loved him. 

Senshi and Kabru said their pieces. The Canaries all agreed with a chorus of encouragement and opinions and friendship. 

You offered your hand, like you always did, like you’d been doing for the last four decades. 

He took it. 

Mithrun placed his hand in yours. And the anticipation bubble that had been building in your chest for so long finally popped. But you were okay. It was okay. He was okay. 

Mithrun pardoned you, surprisingly. You told him that wasn’t necessary and that he should use his pardon on someone else who had a longer sentence. There were only 40 years left for you. Surely they wouldn’t be as long as the last 40 years had been. 

“No, it's you I want,” Mithrun said rather casually, “you’re staying with me in Melini.”

He wanted something. He wanted you. 

You forced yourself to stay upright, “Alright. If you insist.”

Living with Mithrun in this state was very different. It was fun, heartbreaking, difficult, easy, calm, chaotic. Some days, he laid in bed and stared at the wall. Other days, he made noodles and walked through the forest and sat on the beach with you, doing very safe things like building sandcastles and taking naps. Many people in town assumed you two were married. You always corrected them, Mithrun never did. 

He observed monsters and would need healing sometimes. You would push up the sleeve of his tunic and trace your fingers along old scars, none of them perfect. Then, heal him, as you tend to do. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Mithrun asked one day. 

You looked up to meet his eyes. Ink black, your favorite color. “What?”

“You can spend your life any way you want now,” he explained, his voice flat, “you’re free. I’m not your burden anymore.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. “You have never been a burden to me.”

“I used to hate you for keeping me alive.”

“I know.”

“And you never hated me?”

“I sometimes did,” you admitted softly, fingers tracing over his skin. You recalled this certain scar, from a pair of scissors you wrestled out of his hands at two in the morning years ago. “But it was the kind of hate that only stems from love.”

“You have always treated me like a human,” Mithrun murmured. His free hand went to your chin and lifted your face, “Like someone that deserves to live. You loved me despite my inability to give you anything in return. But I’m able now,” he leaned closer, “so allow me this.”

Damn. That had to be the first time you’d ever heard Mithrun say anything like tha—

He was kissing you.

It took you a moment to realize what was happening. His lips were on yours and your heart felt as if it might explode. Your hands shook as you raised them, eventually finding their way to his hair. That felt right. This was right. He deepened the kiss, slowly pushing forward. It was slow and careful and calm. It held so many words that neither of you were able to say. As he gently ran his hand up your thigh and to your hips, you couldn’t help but shiver. 

40 years of longing accumulated into this moment. In a dark house in a new kingdom in a demon-free world, you started something new, and for once it wasn’t difficult at all. 

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Smile of Misfortune

Alone by the lake, the girl watches the moon. It glitters against the rippling water, swaying in a grand waltz. The night is cool, wind ruffling the trees, cicadas and fireflies abuzz. 

Cold water laps at her sneakers. If there had been light, the water would have been stained. But it is not, and so the truth is hidden. How fortunate for the girl. 

Her fingers dig into fluffed up soil, dirt and worse caked beneath her nails. It is almost the witching hour, she thinks to herself. What magic shall she see then? Centaurs? Fairies darting between the trees? Some ancient god of the forest meandering down a deer track?

She lies back, staring up at the stars. How unfortunate of them to be trapped up there, she thinks. How unfortunate of her to be trapped down here. She smiles a secret smile, thinking of misfortunes.

They say there is a star for each person who has died. The girl searches and searches, but she cannot find a new twinkle in the sky. They lie, but she does not mind that. She rather likes lies, as a matter of fact.

Her clothes are a mess, encrusted with filth. When she returns to her little cabin, no amount of scrubbing will save them. She shall have to burn it all. The girl thinks that is a shame.

Oh, but what does it matter? She laughs, a deep bubbling sound that rushes through her chest and escapes her mouth like a pistol's bullets, splashing into the air like blood's fine splatter, soaking into the very earth and staining it blood red. The sound reflects what the light will not, the girl thinks to herself.

She gets up from her seat. The upturned soil is flattened there. Regrettable that she had not thought to preserve the grass, but no one could be perfect. At least, not by telling the truth.

The girl does not look behind as she walks away, skipping through the meadow. If she had, she might have seen the fairies, red and blue against the darkness of the trees, and the siren that was no fairy at all.

She hums cheerfully to herself, trailing her fingers against the weathered bark of the trees. The fireflies dart out of her way as she passes, ever-wary of the great beast that brings death. It only serves to make her spring more boisterous.

She stops by her fateful clearing. It's her favourite, always flowering and fruitful. The trees still slightly wet from her previous fun, and the girl makes a note to bring a bucket. Darkness only lasted so long, after all, and she had no wish to go out with the dawn like a vampire. 

Her cabin is deep in the woods, isolated and lonely. It is no place for a girl to live, and she considers moving out. It would be fun to see more of the world, she thinks. Perhaps she could sail a boat out upon the deep blue sea, where secrets sunk like corpses, never to be seen again. Perhaps she could stay in the suburbs, the home of a thousand prosaic serial killers. Perhaps-

The sirens finally reach her ears, and the girl startles. The witching hour is over, she thinks. It is no longer evil's time.

She runs.

Behind her, she can hear the pounding of feet against the forest floor. There is a chopper overhead, cutting the air up with the same ease of a butcher preparing a hunk of meat. The girl thinks that perhaps she might make it, though her breath comes in great shuddering gasps. The girl wonders if this is how the pigeons feel when she chases them through the forest, if this is how the ants cry out as she crushes them. The girl knows she will not make it.

And so she turns around and raises her hands in the air. She knows how to deal with the Fae. Do not give them her true name, do not take what is offered, do not meet their gaze. She smiles the smile of the misfortunate, and curses the flashlights they brought with them.

They scan the clearing, light betraying her precious secrets with the red of sin. Cold iron burns her skin in clinking cuffs, and the sirens wail their song all the while. 

She bemoans the cold water that has lapped at her sneakers, for it has stained her to the bone,  and the truth is unhidden.

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[sunnynwanda]

Hiiiii! can i request for a shy vampire and a willing victim?

you have such wonderful writing and can't wait for every of your updates, thank you!

Bite me

Warnings: not my usual content - vampire x victim dynamic, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood drinking (duh). Vic is short for victim.

So maybe walking through an abandoned park at night was not their smartest idea. So what? It's not like Vic was ever one to have genius ideas. It was late; they were lazy and entirely done with everything happening in their life. Sometimes, Vic just wished they could spend a lifetime sipping wine and staring at the moon with a woeful expression.

They'd look gorgeous too. Like one of those gothic paintings that their landlord insisted on keeping up. Vic did not mind, mostly because they were too numb to care. Yeah, apathy was what they felt - or rather, they didn't feel anything. It could be the reason for the desperate recklessness with which they treated life.

Hence, their lack of reaction would lead to an unexpected turn of events tonight.

When someone's arms grab Vic from behind, pressing them face-first against a wall, they don't struggle much. Vic expects to be robbed or perhaps killed, but when their attacker tilts their head to the side, exposing their neck, they let out a sigh that borders on relief.

Vampire.

They feel sharp fangs graze their skin tentatively, causing goosebumps to arise. The feeling makes Vic freeze. Fuck, why does this feel so hot?

They don't flinch, which seems to surprise the vampire holding them. It steps closer, pressing up against Vic from behind, sending a s hiver of arousal down their spine. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

They're grateful their attacker doesn't notice it, preoccupied with their own struggles. After another moment of hesitation, the vices around them loosen. The vampire steps back, their arms almost limp as they drop to their sides.

"I-" The vampire pauses, gulping thickly. "I can't do this. I can't." They shake their head in half-disappointment, half-conviction.

When Vic turns around to face them, they look so downcast that it chips away at Vic's heart. Poor thing. "Hey, it's alright." They try to sound as comforting as a victim possibly can.

"Excuse me?" The vampire looks up at them, their expression incredulous.

"I don't mind," Vic shrugs, catching their attacker off guard. They are equally surprised at their undeniable willingness to fall victim tonight. They already have the woeful gothic vibe down - might as well go for it. Just drink blood instead of wine while staring at the moon. Not that big of a difference.

"What do you mean you don't mind?" The vampire asks, their voice going off-pitch. "Are you bonkers?"

"Nope," Vic denies, though it's likely the case. "I'm a fan."

"EXCUSE ME?!" What the vampire truly wanted to ask was: 'What the everloving fuck are you on about?' but they had to maintain the intellectual image.

"You heard me," Vic responds their expression nothing short of nonchalance. They give the vampire a quick glance-over. "I didn't think you'd be this cute though."

"What?" The vampire exclaims, coughing to hide their flustered expression. Their eyes are blown so wide, they might as well pop out of their skull, not to mention the furious blush spreading over their face and neck. They didn't even know vampires could blush.

Before they can finish that, Vic interrupts them with a sneaky smirk. "Now, would you be a doll and bite me already?"

"I-" The vampire stutters, breaking character because they cannot process what's happening. "What the hell? You were supposed to scream and run away!"

"Oh, you like to play with your food, huh?" Vic's smirk widens into a wicked grin as they whisper. "Kinky, I like that."

"WHAT?!" Okay, the vampire is nearing a mental breakdown at this point - their brain has waved a white flag, surrendering to the utter unpredictability of the idiot in front of them.

The vampire watches in horror awe as Vic purses their lips, leaning against the wall behind them before speaking. "Surprised, baby?"

"B-baby..?" The vampire is convinced something in their brain is malfunctioning because they cannot have heard this correctly. "How drunk are you?"

"I'm slightly tipsy and overwhelmingly sad," they explain, raking their eyes over the vampire's form. They really are cute.

"Then why are you this... willing to-" they pause to find the right words, "to, uh, be turned or eaten?"

"I'd rather be turned, if I'm honest," Vic notes, as if that was not painfully obvious.

"Oh, thank god, I had doubts," the vampire retorts, sarcasm dripping from their tone and expression as they roll their eyes.

The victim giggles, crossing their arms in amusement. Maybe life wasn't turning out as shitty as they presumed.

"Stop giggling, for heaven's sake!" The vampire's exasperation brings another wave of soft giggles to their supposed victim.

Vic snorts, crossing their arms over their chest and quirking an eyebrow at the use of the phrase. "You're one to talk about heaven?"

"Fair," the vampire admits with a small smile, and Vic freezes, admiring the gentle curve of their lips.

Holy fuck, they need to get their mind out of the gutter.

"Seems to me I could go now?" Vic notes, turning around in a mock attempt at escaping.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," the vampire seizes them again, their hold firm yet gentle when their arm wraps around Vic's waist, pulling their back flush against their chest.

"Are you going to bite me, or should I look for someone braver to pierce me?" Vic chuckles, their teasing tone obvious to their attacker.

"Oh, you're fucking done for," the vampire lets out a low growl as their tongue darts out to swipe over the sensitive skin of Vic's neck, earning a muffled moan from their victim. "In more ways than one."

A/N: Hi, sweetheart! Thank you, I'm happy to hear you enjoy my writing! This is not my usual content but I enjoyed writing it immensely. <3 Love, Sunny xo

P.S. @m4iloblu3 I have no idea why I can't tag you properly.

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444 @m4iloblu3

[zearay]

This is a little Steddie ficlet that wormed its way into my brain a few days ago and wouldn't leave till I'd written it, so here you go ^_^ I hope you enjoy

Steve had finally agreed to sit in on a session of Dungeons and Dragons while the kids played with Eddie, but only if he got to sit in the big chair at the end of the table. Dustin had readily accepted the condition, the rest of the party less convinced that Eddie would be fine with it.

As soon as they arrived at the Wheeler household, the kids bounced like rubber balls down the stairs and into the basement, Steve following at a leisurely pace after having greeted Mrs Wheeler on the way down.

When he got to the basement and saw the big chair decked out in heavy blankets like a polstered throne, he immediately let out a quiet "fuck yeah" and went to take his place like a king in his castle.

Eddie arrived not too late after, looking like he'd been hurrying to make it on time. As he scanned the room to make sure everyone was present, his eyes slid to Steve on his throne and suddenly he couldn't look away. It was all he could do to let out a short "that's my chair" before his heart combusted at the image of Steve Harrington looking very much at home in the setting most intimately familiar to Eddie.

"Yeah, but Dustin said I could sit here," Steve replied, looking smugly at the kid he'd just thrown under the bus without remorse.

"Yeah, man. You're always up and pacing anyway, I thought maybe it'd be okay? It was the only way to get him to agree to sit in," Dustin defended, looking at Eddie with defiance in his eyes.

Eddie couldn't do anything but nod, still a bit in awe at the display in front of him. But he had a game to run, and run it he would. For the sheep. So he took one last lingering look at Steve before turning his head to look at Dustin.

"He's in my chair, though. How will I sit? On the floor? Not fit for a Dungeon Master," he said.

But before Dustin could come up with something, Steve commented from behind him.

"Well, the chair may be occupied, but there's still a seat, Munson."

Eddie turned his head to look at Steve, who was now patting his own thighs in invitation. And who was Eddie to deny him that, he was just a man after all. So Eddie smirked and walked over to the throne, plopping down on top of Steve before clapping his hands to demand the attention that was already on him.

"Alright, time for some roleplaying. Who's ready?"

The party quickly got over their shock and let out a few short "whoop"s before settling down on the floor and setting up their gear for yet another session of battle against enemies they weren't prepared for. At least it was only pretend this time around.

[blubun0309]

I was thinking about Dandy's 'IMBI' fanfic suddenly, when a thought hit me: Why are the brother's given the senses that they are? Why is Mikey sight, Raph hearing, and Donnie touch?

I think it's subjective, and you can interpret it in any way you deem right, I just wanna put my two cents in. Of course, there's no way of me knowing if this is accurate to Dandy's vision or not, but let me know your own thoughts!

Let's go in order, shall we?

MIKEY

I think Mikey may have been the most difficult to crack, simply because I had no idea what it could represent for his and Leo's relationship. But then I realized, it's not about him and Leo, it's about him and everyone else.

Mikey's the youngest, he's the "baby", the little one, the happy go lucky 'everything's gonna be okay!' guy. His personality paired with his age makes his family baby him or chalk up his reactions to certain situations as him being naive.

But not Leo. Leo treated him like an equal, he's the annoying older brother Mikey looks up to and admires and wants to be like. To Mikey, Leo is his badass, awesome big brother, the only one who he feels doesn't baby him.

So with Leo out of the picture, who's gonna believe him when he says he's seeing the ghost of his presumably dead brother? No one. Because he's "naive".

And they don't believe him, so he and Leo have to PROVE that Leo's alive. And only THEN do they believe it. And, as happy as he is that they can now work on fixing Leo, it still hurts. Because they don't trust him, even though he's so strong as so capable and always razzes his tazz in the coolest ways, they don't trust him, because he's young and "in denial".

Also, Mikey and Leo are probably the most chaotic duo, so them being together so much due to everything previously stated is SO fun. Their interactions are immaculate.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Raph and Donnie are fully at fault here. Considering Leo's circumstances, Mikey was very reckless during the car chase scene, and it made Leo's situation get worse a bit. However, they need Mikey. And Mikey and Leo have an undeniable advantage with Leo being able to walk through walls and warn them for any danger through Mikey. They want a second chance, to make things right, but Donnie and Raph still said no.

I don't blame anyone though, because it's more that their circumstance is difficult and no one knows what to do, what is right or wrong.

Mikey was given that second chance, though. His brother's recognized they needed him. They wanted to bench only Leo, but that blue boy wasn't staying behind no matter what lmao. Which leads us to...

RAPH

Raph's was a bit tricky but also incredibly obvious (I don't know how that works, just roll with it).

Raph and Leo aren't the best at communicating. They end up yelling at each other most of the time. Even with the curse, they still argued through Mikey.

And Leo breaking his promise to Raph on staying behind made Raph even MORE upset. Leo could have dissapeared, he could've been GONE forever, all because he was reckless and followed them despite promising he wouldn't.

But, Raph has to admit, without Leo, they would've been SO lost in that cave, and it was ultimately a good thing that he joined them, but it was still so scary. Who knows what could have gone wrong. He isn't mad at Leo, per se, he's just mad at the circumstances. He wants to keep Leo safe, because Leo is his brother. He's almost lost Leo TWICE, he wasn't going to risk actually losing him again. He didn't WANT to risk it. It's hard to keep Leo, hell, all his brother's safe when what's safe and what's right don't align.

As the eldest, he has to make that call, and it scares him. Leo keeps putting his own well-being down, he keeps putting himself in danger for them, and it scares Raph. It scares all of them.

Raph is frustrated, he lashes out, he hurts his brother's feelings when he only wants to keep him safe. He cares so much for Leo, and he wants what's best for him more than anything, but when Leo doesn't cooperate, it frustrates him.

They have a well needed talk about it, though, and it's very beautiful. Because Leo had just had a talk with Mikey about the exact same thing, about putting oneself in danger without thinking of the consequences, and he understands how Raph feels about it now. Regardless, Raph says he's proud of him, for doing the right thing, and he is.

Raph wants Leo to understand his perspective, how he feels, and once Leo does, it makes things so much easier.

DONNIE

Donnie's is pretty straight forward and DEFINITELY the easiest to understand (at least for me) but, basically...yeah it's because Donnie doesn't like touch, but I have more!

But yes, Donnie is touch repulsed. The best indicator of such is in the movie when Raph has to make it clear that he wasn't giving a hug, it was a rescue. There's more examples but you get the gist. However, there are plenty of times in the show when Donnie is shown being physically affectionate, which leads me to believe it's something that depends on his feelings during any given moment. If he feels like it, he'll be affectionate. And, you know, having his brother almost die and now be a ghost of sorts...yeah, he's not feeling great. Which is why I LOVE him being given touch. Throughout this whole fic, Leo is HEAVILY touch-starved. Bro's a GHOST, of course he is. And now Donnie is placed in a position in which he is quite literally his touch-starved brother's ONLY source of physical affection.

He and Leo had been very distant up until that point due to being unable to, you know, interact at all, and adding the fact that Donnie, in an emotionally bad state, doesn’t like physical affection when it's sudden or in general, it's incredibly interesting to give Donnie the one sense that he's uncomfortable with. He feels bad, because Leo wants to FEEL him and hug him, but he's not in a mental state to reciprocate. He shuts down when he's stressed. That scene where he shakes off Leo's hand after threatening the fire element. Augh, chills, literal chills.

Also. I dunno, but if my ghost brother who I've only known is a ghost for a little while, was suddenly able to touch me without me being able to see it coming...yeah I would be pretty freaked out too.

Also, I think the scene where Raph hugs Donnie is very interesting, because to Leo, it means that Donnie is okay with physical touch, as long as it's not HIM. Now, both feel bad. Donnie for not being able to reciprocate Leo's...(I don't want to say 'adances' because it sound weird but I've got nothing else), and Leo for, in his mind, being 'selfish' for wanting Donnie's affection.

This whole time, Leo was gone for Donnie. Mikey could see him, Raph could hear him, but him and Leo had no way of communicating by themselves.

Which makes that scene where they finally communicate and hug SO much more impactful. When Leo hugs him first, it showed Donnie that Leo wasn't gone, he was here, with him, and he wasn't mad at him. And then Leo got a hug back, he finally, FINALLY got one after two weeks of not being able to touch anything or anyone.

And now, Donnie isn't uncomfortable with Leo's touch. Because now he not only understands that Leo desperately needs affection and he's his only way of getting it, but also Leo isn't gone. He's here, and Donnie will hold him if it means he won't dissapear again. Gosh, I love me some Disaster Twins.

I think IMBI does an incredible job at really laying out all the brother's feelings and relationships with each other in such a beautiful way. Oh my god I love fanfiction.

[missnatzooie]

Pearlina wedding prompts

Pearl would be the one wearing the suit, a white suit with a pink bow tie, while Marina would wear an aqua green wedding dress with a veil and a crown with green and pink jewels on it.

When Pearl sees Marina being led up the aisle, she gets teary eyed seeing her soon-to-be bride in her beautiful dress, but she tries to hide it in order to maintain her ''tough girl'' attitude.

Eight would be the one to lead Marina up the aisle, being the proud adopted daughter of the couple.

The Squid Sisters and Shiver & Frye would be the bridesmaids, while Big Man would be the minister.

Captain 3, Agent 4 and the new Agent 3 would also attend.

Smallfry would be wearing an adorable little bow tie, they would also be the one carrying the rings (with heavy supervision by New Agent 3 to make sure that they don't run off).

Crusty Sean would be the best man.

Smollusk would also be there, on their best behaviour of course.

When Pearl and Marina have their first dance as newlywed wives, their song would be Into the Light.

As soon as Pearl and Marina kiss after they are pronounced as wives, the tips of Pearl's hair will turn aqua green while the tips of Marina's hair will turn pink.

The wedding cake would be half actual cake and half ice cream, as a reference to Pearl and Marina's first Splatfest (in the west).

When Pearl gives a speech during the wedding dinner, she talks about how she met Marina and how she means the whole world to her and how lucky she is to have her, with Marina softly crying tears of joy next to her, while giggling at the funny parts.

Acht would be the DJ of their wedding party.

When Pearl and Marina go to their hotel suite after their wedding, they look out the window and watch the stars, holding each other close as happily married newlywed wives, with their hands entwined around each others.

[emry-stars-art]

When the guy you’re desperately trying not to crush on even though he refuses to speak to you anymore tears into the homophobic pastor on campus and it is, against all your better judgement, kinda hot

(More modern college au floaty ideas)

[maplemonarchy]

I wrote a fanfic!!!

Have some bonus art to go with it

[ghostofdiamonds]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Mouri Ran, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Koizumi Akako/Nakamori Aoko, Hakuba Saguru/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid Characters: Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid Additional Tags: Crack, Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan And Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid Are Related, Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan And Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid Are Cousins, Meitantei Conan Movie 27: The Million-dollar Pentagram Didn't Happen, Banter Summary:

"Oh shit," Kaito says. "I'm the gay cousin."

[haven-anyone-would-yearn-for]

Finished my first Astarion fic (it was just a matter of time, really)

features: angst! Scratch being a good doggo! Astarion being bad at feelings! comfort! Astarion pets the doggo!

[fili-oeuvre]

{ in the wilderness, close to the beginning of night }

Noah fidgeted with a stick. It was a fairly long one, but he figured that it would make a better torch than the tinier ones he had found. He broke off a piece of it to make it a more preferable length for a torch.

Noah: [ of course I get lost right before the sun goes down, typical, I didn’t even want to be o it, but someone used up all of the peppermint leaves and OF COURSE they send me out to get more instead of waiting until morning ] *he quickly ignited the wraps at the end of the stick and it lit into a small fire that draw to consume the end of the stick*

He shuffled to his feet, glancing around with the new light of his makeshift torch. The sun had started to set, casting the world in fleeting light as it slowly disappeared over the horizon.

Noah looked back at the way he had gone and walked. He shouldn't be too far. He had only gone about 4 miles in until he had found what he needed. It would likely be an hour and a half walk, but he was always a fast walker.

Noah: [ why did these plants have to grow this far out? I swear I have the worst luck ]

He continued walking, passing a gnarled tree. It had a strange knot in its trunk as if someone had purposely twisted that section and left it to there like some kind of lump at the tree's core.

He gave it a passing glance before turning back towards the trail he was on.

——————

{ 20 minutes later }

Noah: [ at least its not raining, that would make this walk feel even longer ]

The sounds of the night were a slight comfort, made him less alone. Crickets played their songs and frogs croaked from the streams. Owls hooted from the branches, adding their voices to the chorus of the night. There were even a few fireflies that occasionally glowed in the darkness. It was a lot better than still, empty silence. It was almost relaxing, how peaceful everything seemed.

He came to a point where he walked by a tree, stopping he looked up at the tree. It was... the same one he had passed at the beginning. The same twisted knot at the midsection of the tree's trunk. The same bent stature like the tree was struggling to stand upright.

Noah: [ didn't I... pass this tree already? ] *he thought for a moment, surely he hadn't gone in a circle* *maybe it was a different tree, there were a lot of trees in the forest and there were bound to be some with knots and bends to them* [ it's fine, I'll just make sure to walk straight this time ]

He shook off the uneasy feeling that was being to rest on him like an unwanted layer of snow. He walked passed the tree, trying to think of something to keep him calm.

——————

{ 40 minutes later }

He must be making progress by now. He had passed by a small river that he hadn't the first time, so he felt confident that he hadn't looped around like he did the first time.

Noah: [ I'll see the lights of home in the distance soon, I hope that some dinner is still left over, hopefully Arnold didn't eat my portion agian ]

It was darker by this point. The sun setting completely about 10 minutes ago, leaving the world in total darkness.

He wasn't too scared, though he couldn't help glancing over his shoulder every time he heard a sound. This feeling of being watched hadn't stopped since the sun went down, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness.

Luckily, he had a torch to light his way and he felt assured that the light would keep the wild animals away.

Noah: *he took a shaky breathe to try and calm his nerves* [ don't worry, you've been walking for a while and you've covered good ground by now, everything is fi— ]

There at least ten feet away, faintly illuminated by the light of the torch, was the same tree.

The center of the knot looked at him as if it was an eye. Almost like it was taunting him.

Noah: [ that's not possible! I was sure that I walked straight that time! I couldn't have gone in a circle again, I was making progress! ]

A sudden snap of branches pulled his attention from his thoughts as he whirled around towards the direction of the sound.

Nervous sweat rolling down his neck as his eyes scanned the darkness, almost like he was waiting for something to jump out at him.

It was then that he noticed how the other sounds of the night seemed to have stopped. He was about to excuse it as just being his fear playing a trick on him. His mind playing tricks on him.

A louder snap, this time closer, made him jump.

Fear creeped up his body like a thousand tiny spiders. Goosebumps spread across his arms and legs. Even the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.

More snaps came from in front of him, but also around him on the sides. It sounded like multiple people were moving around at once, but they didn't sound human.

A part of him wondered if it was those strange shape-changing people that he had heard about. That didn't ease his fear at all though, as his mind went through the several stories he had heard of those strange non-humans carrying people off and leaving their bodies to rot, either dangling them from trees or mauling them beyond recognition.

Then, a sound right at the edge of the torch's light snapped his terrified gaze towards the direction of it.

In what felt like an instant, hundreds of glowing eyes appeared from the darkness in front of him as if they had just spawned out of nowhere.

Somewhere in his mind, a primal instinct yelled one simple word: RUN.

He turned and ran.

He heard what sounded like thousands of footsteps following behind him, but he just kept running. He nearly tripped on several tree roots and rocks as he went, but he didn't slow down.

Even as his lungs burned and his legs begged him to stop, his mind screamed at him to keep running and somehow, he did.

After what felt like forever, he tripped on a tree root as he looked to the side after seeing something illuminated by the fire from the corner of his eye.

He unceremoniously fell to the ground, somehow not dropping the torch and narrowly missing setting his hair on fire.

Noah: *groans from the pain* *sitting up and wiping the dirt from his face* *he had scraped his knees when he tripped, but the adrenaline caused him to not feel it yet*

He glanced up and was surprised to hear that the sounds had seemingly... stopped.

He slowly looked around him, moving the torch to try and see around him.

Noah: [ maybe whatever it was left? ] *he held off on feeling any sort of relief*

Just then, a voice, sounding as if it was being spoken from numerous people at once, came from all around him from within the darkness.

“You don’t belong here. Do you?”

He looked around frantically, scrambling back up to his feet in case he needed to run again. Trying to see who or what was speaking, but all he saw was pitch black.

Then a sound of footsteps came from right in front of him. A figure slowly came into view as it stepped into the proximity of the torch's light.

It was a... deer?

By the torch’s light, he could see that it was a young buck. A set of long, curled antlers atop its head. It stared at him with empty eyes that were illuminated by the light of the fire.

It made its eyes look as if they were glowing bright red.

“A little creature so far from home.”

The same voice that he had heard prefer emitted from the deer. It didn’t look like it was moving its mouth to speak the words, more just lazily opening and closing its mouth as the words spilled from it.

Then, hundreds of footsteps sounded from all around them. Hoofed feet crunching the leaves and dirt of the forest floor as they circled around, just outside of the fire’s small light.

The buck remained unfazed by the sounds, creeping closer to him. It was unafraid of the fire, as if it had seen it many times and was simply not put off by its presence.

“So small and frail. In such a big forest.”

The buck made a face as if it was trying to smile, its head tilted to the side in an unnatural way.

“Even you know that you shouldn’t be out here.”

Noah couldn’t take his eyes off of the buck. Its eyes were so… hauntingly beautiful.

The other deer crept closer to him, but he didn't acknowledge them or even move an inch. He just kept looking at the buck in front of him, staring into its shining eyes.

The eyes of the other deer began to glow from the fire as they walked closer. They walked in unison, as if they were a synchronized unit who had practiced these steps before.

"You don't need to worry though."

The buck smiled at him again, that same unnatural smile.

"We'll keep you safe."

Then an unnatural wind blew from behind Noah, snuffing the flame of the torch within a single gust.

Leaving Noah and the deer to be engulfed by the darkness of the night.

[zee-the-zebra]

Humanity and Immortality

Hi lol, have a braindump involving some Dottore and Pantalone headcanons. And shipping.

Also before I go in, just known I gave Pantalone the true name of "Lixin". Cool? Cool. Enjoy.

“There is something I want to ask you. Just to satiate my own curiosity.”

“Ask then. And I’ll decide if your question is worth answering.”

“You’re making quite a gamble with your tone, my dear. You know I could kill you with no effort.”

“And I could make you have to scrounge for your own funds, darling. But I concede the point. Please. Go on.”

“How did you obtain your immortality…while still believing you are human?”

“Ah. In that case let answer your question with one of my own. Do you know what a magician is?”

“In what sense do you…of course. A century of tireless study, and a body that’s frail even by the standards of humanity-”

“In exchange for becoming entirely ageless.”

“And you didn’t mind making that trade?”

“Not at all. While I respect your desire to become something greater than the gods, I wish to retain my humanity.”

“For what reason?”

“A rather simple one really. I want to show this cruel and unbalanced world that you don’t need power to have power. That a ‘lowly human’ can take the lifeblood of our society, control it, and then destroy it.”

“…Well, magician. I would say you’ve earned my respect.”

“Oh?”

“It’s fascinating, truly. Our goals in direct opposition to each other. I desire to push life to its very limits, to make it evolve into something greater than ever thought possible. And then there’s you. You’re are choosing to have life become something great as it is, to spite the inherent cruelties this world.”

“Then what makes me worthy of your respect, oh monstrous deity?”

“Because despite our goals never aligning you, share my desire. To control something you were always told you never could.”

“Of course. But life and balance go hand in hand, do they not?”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“So now I believe it’s time to ask a question, now. When you make life itself entirely yours, will you share your world with me?”

“I see no reason not to. After all, what is a balanced world…without something on the other side of the scale? But that means you can’t die until I’ve crafted that world, Lixin.”

“I will be by your side when that time comes. And that’s a promise, Zandik.”

[triangular-doggo]

sometimes i want to type stuff on my laptop just because i like typing on its keyboard. I just never know what to type

the quick brown fox jumps over ther lazy dog.

"Why'd you do that?", mumbled the lazy dog, irritated by this sudden interruption of an otherwise very good nap.

The quick brown fox halted for a moment. "What? You were in the way. I jumped over you. That's it."

"In the way of what?", the dog before the fox could run away. "Of me going over there, silly!"

"And you couldn't even be bothered to go around me instead of waking me up? What's so important over there?"

"I don't know, that's what i'm excited about!"

"I don't think I understand."

"You know, I've lived in this area for quite a while now. Every day, I keep walking around, always looking for new areas to scout, new smells and new things to chew on. And maybe even some friends to play with!" While talking, the quick brown fox got more and more excited and the lazy dog got more and more annoyed.

"I still don't get it. What's there to search for? I've got everything here, and you must have too, doun't you? I have my spot here, my home. I know where to hunt for food and where to look for water and I know exactly where the sun will warm the soil just right to nap. Every day I know what will happen, because it's the same as yesterday and the day before and so on. Except for today, I must admit. Your appearance disturbed my routine quite a lot."

The fox thought for a moment, then answered to what it just heard. "That sounds very... (it struggled to find the right word) ...depressing..."

"What? No! I like it that way. A lot. Life is easy like that, and it gives me a sense of security."

"I'd die of boredom if I had to live like that.", the fox shouted impatiently.

"But you don't. You're free to go wherever you want as long as you don't keep me away from my naptime. This isn't a mere suggestion, please go now. Leave me and my sunny spot in peace."

So the quick brown fox went away and the lazy dog tried to fall back asleep, both thinking about the weirdness of the other's way of life.

[n-evermores]

I wrote a sort of spicy-ish, (probably very mild. I feel like my definition of spicy is vastly different than everyone else’s 😂) Halloween fic for Alden Parker with a vampire reader. But I didn’t post it because I feel like I’m the only weirdo who would find that shit entertaining. Should I post it? Lmao

[stardust948]

I have a sudden urge to dig up all my old cringy AoT self insert fics.

[lairn]

Last line challenge:

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you'd like)

@gwenllian-in-the-abbey tagged me, thanks!

I finished writing that Malta thing recently and haven't done anything since. Not exactly sure which lines I wrote last, so I'll just put the last sentence of the story. Spoilers, I suppose, but I'm not sure who cares to read it in the first place!

"And with that she leapt forward into the tender arms of her merciful father."

I always seem to end things on a bit of a bummer. :/

Tagging: none with the usual excuses, sorry!