#Wrote in like 20 minutes

[purlty23]

that recent commission 👁️👁️ we need more mean dom Papa IV in the fandom

I argee. I dont think he has as much of a temper as the others, like when they get mad its genuine even though its controlled and safe. With him, he purposely plays it up. He gets annoyed, hes italian, sometimes he can get loud, but hes a soft guy. He knows that shouting and red hot anger dont always fix things. He also knows that some of his demons crave it. They need a harsh hand and a striking palm to keep them in place, to make them feel secure, to make them cum. Dew is the one who gets it most, because they have an arrangement. More under the cut cause I have feelings, rated like PG 13. Theres hints of sexual tension but nothing happens, nothing is explicit

After Terzo was…. Removed from his position. Let go, if you will. Afterwards, Dew was so angry all the time. He felt he had no safety to run back to. Other ghouls couldn’t be his rock the way he knew some were tyring. Most ghouls were gone, and the ones that somehow made it were shaken and unsure if theyd be next. Aether couldn’t console him, because Dew couldn’t believe his reassurances. Then Copia was introduced to them as the successor.

This guy? Dew had thought to himself. No way. He was a pushover, a scrub, unfit for the role he was being given. Dew hated him.

When Copia would speak, he’d scoff and avert his eyes. He’d cross his arms, flare himself in a way that still ached at his newly scarred and almost healed gills. He’d take every chance he could to scare and terrorize and bestow cruelty on the Cardinal. If asked, he’d say it was for his own amusement. To anyone with eyes it was clear he was lying.

It was after the second time Dew had barricaded him into the confessional booth during his shift there that Copia had had enough. It wasn’t a simple thing to corner a ghoul, but it wasn’t impossible. Enlisting the help of his still forming ghoul pack, he was able to find himself glaring down the newly turned fire ghoul. He always looked small. Somehow, he had never looked as tiny nor as snake-like than now; backed against the wall with nowhere to run in the cramped supply closet of the rehearsal room.

“Tell me, what slight have I committed?” The cardinal demanded. Of course, as soon as he started, his mouth caught up with the ball of nerves in his stomach and it all unravelled over his tongue. “I cannot recall a single moment! Did I step on your tail without my knowledge? Eat a leftover with your name on it? Is my presence such a hinderance? What would you have me to? Leave?”

“No!” The string of otherworldly curses thrown at him were laced with snarls and hisses, completely falling on deaf ears since Copia could barely translate.

Without thinking, his gloved hand slammed into the space on the wall right next to Dew’s head. Their eyes locked, mismatched brown and white falling down into pools of dark black with only pinpricks of-

Oh. Those pinpricks expanded before his gaze. Deep, heavy dishes looked up at him as bright molten blush. Something had changed, and it had done so very quickly. Like something had clicked into place in Dew’s mind.

Leaning in, he felt the warmth. Dew’s heart pounded in his ears and he swore it was loud enough for the cardinal to hear.

“…Is this what it takes to get you to behave?” Copia murmured.

After a moment of tense silence, Dew shook his head once. Bratty and defiant.

Getting closer, Copia’s lips brushed over golden strands of hair as he spoke into the ghoul’s ear. “More?”

Finally, Dew nodded.

[introspectivememories]

was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-

[idyllcy]

every day is my birthday - tim drake x reader

"Happy birthdayyyyyyyy" You sing, grinning cheek to cheek as Tim glances up from taking his shoes off, your cake on the counter as he exhales.

"I thought you forgot."

"Why, cuz I slept in this morning instead of waking up like I usually do? You had your birthday breakfast in the fridge."

"What kind of madness were you up to last night? I heard the kitchen vent on from when I left for patrol until I came back." He collapses into your arms, mumbling.

"I was cooking." You hum. "Made choco chip cookies."

"For me?"

"Yes, sweetheart. For you." You hum, running your hands through his hair. "Cake's homemade too."

"God, I need to babytrap you."

"WHAT."

"Marriage isn't enough, I need to make sure you never leave me." He mumbles, squeezing you. "Sorry, tired. The meetings today wore me out."

"I figured." You pat his head. "Ready for cake?"

"Please." He grumbles. "By the way, hate your twitter post."

You purse your lips as you laugh, holding the knife in place before you accidentally cut someone while laughing.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[pizzaqueen]

What’s that? Another first kiss ficlet from me?? Just over 500 words of fluff

“When was the last time you kissed someone?” Steve pauses, then adds, “Or were kissed.” Because there’s a difference. At least, Steve thinks there is. He’s usually the one doing the kissing but there have been a few times when he’s been kissed and… It’s definitely different.

“What?” Eddie looks up from where he’s rolling a joint, brow furrowed. “I don’t— Huh?”

“Kissing.” Steve leans on his elbow, propping his head on his hand. “When was the last time you did it.” He thinks a moment. “No, the last time you were really good and properly kissed.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know…” Steve lifts one shoulder. “Just the last really good perfect kiss.”

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it…”

“I just don’t know.”

“Really?”

Eddie looks at Steve for a moment then rolls off the bed, going over to fiddle with the stereo. “Yeah, really.”

And that’s not right. Eddie should know when he was last kissed. He should be kissed all the time. By Steve, preferably.

Steve goes over, leaning back against the dresser so he can look at Eddie, but Eddie isn’t looking at him. Shit. He kicks Eddie’s foot and says, “Hey, man, it’s cool.”

Eddie sighs, ejecting a tape and switching it over to the other side. He looks at Steve. “It’s been years since I kissed anyone, okay, and it was… It was the wrong person. It was awkward and…” He shakes his head. “Not really a lot of opportunity for me to kiss the right kind of person in Hawkins.”

Oh. Steve has wondered. Mostly at the back of his mind, but… The way Eddie doesn’t talk about things like kissing, or dates, or sex makes sense. Well, he doesn’t talk about them in specifics. It’s always vague. “That’s not right.”

“What?”

“I mean, you should be kissed.”

“Why?”

“You just should be.” Steve leans a little closer, heart beating hard.

Eddie presses play and crosses his arms over his chest. “You got any volunteers in mind?”

“I might.” Steve looks at Eddie a moment, then he reaches out, curling his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, tugging until Eddie unfolds his arms. “But it depends how you feel about the person I’m thinking of.”

Eddie looks over Steve’s face, searching, and then he says, “I don’t— I don’t wanna be wrong about this,” and Steve slides his hand down until he’s palm to palm with Eddie. Eddie makes a choked little noise and laces his fingers with Steve’s. He raises his brows in question, looking at Steve so open and hopeful that Steve’s chest squeezes tight.

So, he pulls on their joined hands, raises his other to cup Eddie’s face, and softly, gently kisses him. He kisses him and kisses him, the way Eddie should be kissed, the way he hopes—is pretty sure—Eddie wants to be kissed. And then Eddie brings his hand up to Steve’s face and then Eddie is kissing him. And it’s so so good.

When they part, Eddie licks his lips and says, “Today.”

“What?”

“That was the last time I was good and properly kissed.”

Steve smiles and says, “It won’t be the last time,” and he kisses Eddie again.

[tddoodles]

Okay, listen Courtney as a deer faun

[nipuni]

OH my god we just watched Dr.Who "Human Nature" and "Family of Blood"

[fearandhatred]

the rapture

it's a holy thing, in theory, a glorious celebration, where those who believe rise to meet the lord in the air. it's a day of joy, in theory, and maybe even of vindication for those who have always believed.

but no one thinks about how it's like to see the dead rise again—bodies clawing their way out of bolted wood and six feet of packed earth, bodies decomposed and maggot-feasted, nails stained with rot and dirt. no one thinks about the violent lurch of their bodies being jolted into the air by the stomach, gravity flinging their heads back down to earth as they struggle in vain to find footing on molecules and gas. no one thinks about those who don't make it.

no one thinks about the screams.

crowley hadn't thought about any of these things. he certainly hadn't thought about the angels that would be called back to heaven along with the believers.

here they stand dead in the middle of absolute ruin, the promise of heaven the only thing left to look forward to on the wasteland of this earth. the sky has opened up like the eye of god, watching over her people for the very first time, and crowley's black wings against the beams of light only remind him that he doesn't belong up there with the rest of them. crowley wraps his arms tight around aziraphale, squeezes his torso like he can maybe keep aziraphale with him through sheer will or, laughably, demonic intervention. like love could ever be enough. like love could stay.

around them, the cacophony of wails and mockingly exaltant trumpets scorch the earth in their intensity, clashing and agonising even—especially—for them, and words make no sound. but they hold on to each other, even as they shrink into themselves against the noise of the undying. i don't want to leave you either, aziraphale doesn't say, but his hands dig into the cotton of crowley's sleeve, and crowley hears the words through his fingertips.

he feels a stronger upward resistance against his embrace now, and he clings tighter, steadfast, even as aziraphale's grip falters. but he knows he can't hold on forever. he knows that nothing ever lasts.

trembling with something unspeakable, he lifts his arms from aziraphale's torso and covers the angel's ears with his hands. he feels more than hearing aziraphale's resulting sob, and he spreads out his wings to wrap them around their bodies. a shield, a comfort, a goodbye.

it's okay, the gesture says in silence. i'll see you in another lifetime.

[loafofryebread]

there is something so terrifying about wanting to be held, a years deep ache in my bones, like a child sobbing pleading for someone to notice, to care.

come here darling, I swear I will not bite, come here please, smooth away the cracks in my skin, piece me back together with the gold of your love, like the japanese would repair their pottery.

there is something so vulnerable about wanting to be touched, undoing me with a mere brush of the fingers, peeling back my layers like the skin of an orange, and each golden segment of my soul, is an offering (i love you).

oh, do you think you could hold me? just this once? kiss the backs of my knees when they ache? trace the divots of my spine like exploring a foreign land? memorize the shape of my nose, my jaw, my eyes, turning the terrain of my body into something familiar.

Perhaps it is selfish of me to ask for such a thing, I have always been a rather demanding creature, a dog, scratching at the door, begging to be let in.

I will be gentle I swear, curl up in your chest, your ribcage can be a temple, your heart the god I bow before, praying you might hold me, if only for a little while.

[birinboom]

Lion's Mane

Jing Yuan x Reader Fluff, established relationship, nicknames (the reader calls Jing Yuan 'love') 🌸 Word count: 389

You sit on the lone chair in your bedroom. Jing Yuan is seated on the floor in front of you, cross-legged, bare shoulders resting against your knees. His skin is steaming from his recent bath, his hair still damp. Even now, so close to bedtime, he has a scroll in his hands, skimming through it to prepare for the early morning meeting tomorrow. Work never truly stops for him. 

You leave the lacquered comb on the table for now, instead opting to run your hands through his hair to deal with the worst of the knots. It’s silky against your skin, and each strand of hair is so fine it easily builds up static electricity. If it had been dry, you would’ve seen little arcs of electricity between the strands. You’ve never been able to tell if it’s because of Jing Yuan’s deal with the Lightning Lord, or if his hair has always been this way. And Jing Yuan just looks at you with a raised eyebrow when you ask. He’s never paid enough attention to his hair to truly notice. Other things have always been more important.

His hair is easier to deal with when damp. You cannot figure out how he manages to get it this tangled. And it doesn’t really matter, you would still do this even if his hair was easy to deal with. It has become a nice evening routine after all these years.

Jing Yuan has slumped forward, eyes close to the scroll as he fights to make out the writing in the dim room. You place your palm against his forehead, pulling him back.

“Sit up straight, love. You’re going to hurt your back.”

He grunts, but leans against your knees again, the scroll held up in front of him.

Grabbing the comb, you slowly brush through his lion’s mane, dealing with any missed tangles as gently as you can. You watch wordlessly as Jing Yuan’s hands sink into his lap and go limp, a smile growing on your lips as his head slowly slips backwards. Leaning in over him, you peek at his face. His eyes are closed, his jawline is soft, rested. You press a kiss to his forehead, watching as his eyes open into slits, a relaxed smile spreading on his face.

“Is it time for bed?” he asks.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[heartsoji]

BABY

synopsis: nagi wants your attention, but you're working on some pain-in-the-ass school project.

warning(s): light swearing but nothing really

notes: i tried to do like the lazy nagi speaking i always see ('s instead of 'its,' jus' instead of just) but i think i kind of failed

used prompts from here! (12, 14, 20)

nagi was fed up.

you had been working on some sort of school assignment for how long? days? weeks? months? maybe years.. all nagi knows is that you've been doing it for way too long.

“sad…i have a blanket with all this extra room and no one to share it with.” he droned, hoping you would drop whatever useless school thing you were working on and just come cuddle with him instead, but alas, that was not the case.

"i'll be done soon enough, sei."

'sei.' the nickname would make any outsider think that you loved and cared for him, which you clearly didnt, seeing as you decided that that so-called 'important project for school' was more important than your wonderful boyfriend.

"how much longer?"

"maybe an hour or so,"

an hour? mhm, mhm, no. nagi didnt know if you just suddenly hated his guts, but personally, he wasn't putting up with whatever elaborate scheme to annoy him and deprive him of love and affection you had going on. although it was a pain to get out of his bed, (your bed, actually) he slid out from under the covers and sauntered over to your seated back.

he groaned as he leaned over ("'ts such a pain to bed over to your height," he says) to wrap his arms around your neck, inhaling your scent happily. you giggled and hugged him back, affectionately nuzzling his arm.

"someones feeling clingy." you quipped, smiling.

"ah, that's mean." he pouted, still tightening his hold on you further.

he sighed. "come back to bed. please?"

you looked into his beautiful, grey eyes. those pleading orbs were reaching into your heart and tugging on the strings. he gave you his best puppy eyes and the cutest pout that made your heart so happy.

"no."

dun dun DUUUUUN. nagi's jaw dropped in shock at your coldness. (actually, it was more of a slight part of the lips but thats as much as you're gonna get) where did this newfound heartlessness come from? did you suddenly hate him? why were you being so cruel?

"..please?"

"no."

"pleeease?"

"no."

"..."

"...?"

"pleeeaaaaaase?"

"sei, it wont be long until im done! i have to finish this, though."

maybe he should just let you be. you were working so diligently to work on your studies and he was just being a burden to your academic success. it wouldnt be much longer, so he should just go back to..

"SEI! PUT ME DOWN!"

"no way. your precious boyfriend who you love very much 's right here and he's not waiting any longer."

nagi gently placed you on the mattress (lowkey threw you) and immediately crawled underneath the covers beside you, immediately pressing his cheek to your chest.

"seeeeeei... i need to finish my project,"

"mm-mm. you've been working on it for way too long.. 'ts such a hassle being by myself.."

you sighed, wrapping your arms around him. "alright, but only for half an hour."

he didnt say anything, but he'd knew he'd have you staying longer than that.

he smiled warmly into your chest. "your hugs are nice..."

you giggled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "you're so sweet,"

"mm.. 'ts no need to say. i know." he smiled lazily before adding a quick, "'ts ok though. i dont mind jus' hearing you say it.."

you rolled your eyes but still held him lovingly. soon enough, however, his half an hour was up.

"sorry, sei, but i need to get back to work now." you said, pulling yourself out of bed.

he groaned. "why can't we stay here forever?"

you chuckled. "because i have work to do."

"but 'm right here.. y're really gonna leave me all by myself?" nagi pouted, trying to coax you into coming back.

"yeah." you grinned, chuckling at his pout growing wider. "im gonna get back to work now, ok?"

"no."

his long arms circled around your waist quickly before he pulled you back into bed, smushing your head into his beautifully wonderfully toned chest, enveloping you in his ginormous frame. (overgrown mf) "gotta have you with me.. work on it later.."

"nagi! i gotta get back to-"

chomp.

"WHAT THE HELL?! DID YOU JUST BITE ME?!" you screamed, rubbing the cheek he nibbled on.

he held you tighter, smushing his cheek against the top of your head. "dont call me by my last name.. 's rude."

you sighed. "you big baby."

"yeah. your baby."

you rolled your eyes but snuggled up to him regardless.

"yeah. i guess so."

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 💗

[eli0004]

AoT as songs during a breakup and why [Pt. 1 Men Edition]

Contains: Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Bertholdt, Levi

Warnings: insecurity, implied cheating, drug use, pining, toxicity, crying

Eren- [Black Cats- ZillaKami]

After you two break up, Eren goes through three phases. Anger at you, anger at himself, and finally just trying to forget and pretend nothing ever happened. He’s the type of guy that smokes until he’s numb, and forces himself to ignore the heartbreak. If he broke up with you, he’ll probably be back in your DMs in a week. But if you hurt him, he’ll expect you to come back and apologize. The man is too prideful to beg.

Armin- [If Only- Fink]

Sweet Armin 🥹 baby boy, he blames himself. Even if the breakup was your fault, he’s thinking of all the ways he could’ve been better for you. He’ll run through every possible reason you felt like he wasn’t enough for you, any sign he missed that he wasn’t trying hard enough. He won’t get over you, even as the time passes, there will always be room in his heart that he’ll keep unoccupied in case you ever decide to come back for him. This boy will love you forever, even if it hurts.

Jean- [It’s Called: Free Fall- Rainbow Kitten Surprise]

Jean is a very emotional guy…in private. He won’t outwardly show how it affects him, he’ll go out with friends and make an appearance at parties like it’s no big deal. For the first while he’s able to fool himself too. It’s one night when he gets home after a trip to the lake with his friends and starts thinking about how quiet his evenings are without you, he breaks. He feels a bit hopeless, and frustrated that he can’t just turn it off. He doesn’t want to feel it, because he’s scared it will consume him. He’s scared that other people will recognize his vulnerability.

Connie- [Who Needs Love- Trippie Redd]

My man is a LIAR. Connie hates you. He’s talking shit, he’s saying you were toxic and he’s glad you’re gone. He doesn’t need you and he could have anyone he wants, so why be sad? Until he runs into you at a party and you drunkenly admit that you still love him. Suddenly the world is colorful again, and loving really is worth the pain.

Reiner- [Creep- Radiohead]

Even if Reiner isn’t a loser, in his own mind he is. He went into your relationship believing you deserved so much better than him, he never understood how you managed to look at him and see anything worth loving. Everything he ever did was to ensure your happiness, so if leaving him is what will make that happen, he’ll let you go. He’ll watch you post on your instagram story when you go on dates, he’ll see your happy lil smile and he’ll smile to himself, ignoring the tear that escapes his eyes and moistens his pillow. He tells himself that he’s just proud of you, and glad you’re doing well.

Bert- [Break- Alex G]

Bert is a loser, and he believes he’s a loser. It’s endearing, because he doesn’t understand how he managed to pull you in the first place. He would walk to the ends of the earth and back barefoot to make you happy, his love knows no bounds. He’s a certified simp and he doesn’t mind being called one, because he doesn’t see any reason not to be proud that others are acknowledging how diligently he loves you, how devoted he is to your happiness. When things end, he feels cheated and drained. Like it was all for nothing. The type of guy who will say he’ll never love again, and even if it’s not true, it will definitely be a long time before he does.

Levi- [Killer- Phoebe Bridgers]

Levi has some pretty significant abandonment issues. He’s another one that would do anything to see you smile, he believes that the more he does for you, the more worthy of love he is. He doesn’t see himself as lovable unless he can be of service. Even if he doesn’t show it, Levi can be pretty insecure. He knows he isn’t the most approachable, he can be blunt and brash, and he doesn’t always know how to be gentle. But your love makes him feel like he’s good. He’s not ready to give that up, and he’s thinking of all the ways he can show you he wants to make it work. He can’t accept that it’s over, and one way or another he’ll have you back in his arms.

[fairylibe]

phantom of a hand.

856 words. angst. very tiny spoilers for alfons’ rt. features: “alfons sylvatica” × gn! reader.

꒰ summary ꒱ you go to the festival and feel a phantom of a voice; you go to the room and feel a phantom of a hand.

that pie throwing festival was fun.

“your face’s wide open!” the splat of pie cream could be heard as something collided with your face before you could dodge.

“one point for the red team!”

there was little time to wipe your face clean; plates of pies were being thrown everywhere in the open park, and you hardly wanted to miss out.

you could always take a bath afterward. that’s what you had always done, after all.

…wasn’t it?

“take that!” you shouted, bursting into laughter as the pie you threw flew in the air in an arched trajectory before falling flat on someone’s chest.

hearty laughter and shouting could be heard across the entire park. you could dodge some shots — though maybe at the expense of another person — but right now, in this very moment, you just wanted to relish in the lively noise.

a sense of urgent desire drove your actions. it was as though a phantom was beside you, whispering the very words, “there is nothing more important than living in the moment, (y/n).”

because you knew that when everything ended, you would walk into the quiet of the city.

it was a strangely familiar sensation, as though you had walked these very streets, after the very same festival, sometime before. you had placed your arm on the rail somewhere near the lamppost that was about to light up the streets in lieu of the sun, looking out into the city from a distance.

it was all too familiar, yet foreign at the same time. or perhaps, something was missing, as though you were missing a single piece of a puzzle.

the picture was mostly complete, except for one thing.

but what was that thing?

every time you passed around this bridge, even during the day, you would feel a tiny twinge in your heart. it was like someone was wringing it.

someone you didn’t know.

you had a feeling you were forgetting something that truly mattered to you.

the ache was always there, but for some odd reason you couldn’t quite pin down. the ache morphed into pain, opening a hole in your heart, until your vision blurred.

was it because of how quiet and somber your surroundings had become after engaging in something so boisterous and lively?

only the gentle breeze could answer, drying your cheeks of the tears that fell.

—

the room when you came in was empty enough to leave behind no sign of life. it was not dusty enough, however, to suggest any abandonment.

after all, you had always kept it clean.

you didn’t know why, but you felt a deep attachment to this room. when you asked around, though, everyone had claimed no one has ever occupied this room before.

was this also a feeling induced by another life?

you walked around the room, tracing your fingers around the spotless furniture. finally, your hands stopped on a black cloth that covered something rather tall and narrow, if the cloth could hug its edges. before, you had a strange feeling, much like what you had felt before in the city around the bridge, that you shouldn’t touch that cloth.

but today, you found the courage in you to defy that voice that told you otherwise.

gripping the black cloth, you pulled it toward you, removing it and revealing what was beneath it all along.

the sight took your breath away.

before you was a mirror, tall enough to reflect your whole person. yet, due to how shattered it was on the surface, your own reflection became distorted with the fractures in the glass.

it looked as though someone had punched through it.

but who?

against your better judgment, your fingers made their way to the mirror’s surface, feeling something like a magnetic attraction. but you ended up cutting one of your fingertips, causing you to wince and immediately draw back, the pain breaking you from the mysterious spell this “magic mirror” had placed on you.

when you looked at your index finger, red blossomed from where you had cut it.

“i do find it oddly curious how you seem to have a penchant for getting hurt like this.”

who was that? this voice…

“well? let me see the cut.”

that’s right… this voice… his name was——

your thought abruptly cut off there, and once again, tears started to flow, though it didn’t occur to you that you were crying until you heard yourself hiccup.

you raised your arm to your face, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. but alas, it was a futile effort.

“hehe, first you cut yourself and now you shed tears like this. you truly are a handful sometimes. and yet, i do find your tears ever so endearing.”

you no longer knew if you were crying because of the cut on your finger, or because of the phantom warmth you felt on your cheek from someone you no longer remembered.

but if you knew one thing…

it was that the tears couldn’t stop falling to the ground now — as there was no longer any hand to catch them.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @letter-from-afar @candiedcoffeedrops @.comment to be added or removed!

[gunstellations]

"お前は失ってばかりじゃねえ"

"you haven't only received loss"

[presidentbungus]

Scout doesn't remember it's Halloween until he opens the fridge in the morning to start cooking breakfast and he comes face-to-face with an extremely gimongous cockroach--and he remembers, of course, that it is in fact a plastic extremely gimongous cockroach that he placed there last night, about half a second after he screams and falls on his ass and swipes just about everything off the counter in the process. Pots and pans, a bunch of cardboard boxes, four boxes of eggs that he swears to god he told someone to put the fuck away yesterday--and an entire jar of peanut butter, unlidded, with a spoon in it, most of which decides to spill all over onto his pants as he hits the ground.

He sits there for four or five minutes and thinks about the logistics of building a time machine and going and socking Scout from ten hours ago in the freakin' jaw, watching what used to be four cartons of eggs slowly seep into his pants, and eventually decides hey, why not, it's Halloween's fault, stupid ass holiday's cursed anyway so basically there's no way he could've avoided this. So he stands up and starts scooping peanut butter off his pants with his hands, and decides maybe while he's at it he'll just leave all this here and act, like, really surprised when he walks in here in an hour, say after he changes pants and sleeps in a little more, and he'll blame it on the Halloween Ghost and everybody's gonna laugh, and it'll be really great.

It doesn't take him very long to give up on desperately trying to transfer peanut butter from his fingers to the garbage can, so he slowly graduates to licking it off his hands instead, and eventually decides hey, who's counting, and picks the jar of peanut butter off the floor--grabs a clean spoon, 'cause he's not gross--and decides that this will be his breakfast for today.

Pyro shows up in the doorway about the same time as him. Scout almost falls over a second time but gracefully saves himself by waving his arms and then pretending that he's been doing intentional karate moves the entire time, while Pyro just kind of stands there and stares straight ahead, which is what she's doing most of the time, anyway.

And then they look at each other for a little while. Scout still has a spoon shoved in his mouth. Eventually Pyro sort of nods and says something that sounds like, "Nice peanut butter," and Scout thinks that's a pretty good point, considering.

"Halloween Ghost," is all that comes to his mind. Good one Scout. He quickly follows, just to clarify: "Not me. I didn't do that. The, um, the…" He gestures vaguely. "Y'know, the stuff."

Pyro looks at him.

"It was… the Ghost."

Pyro approaches and sets a hand on his shoulder, and she dips her fingertip into the peanut butter--it slips under her mask and comes away clean. Scout smiles. Pyro mumbles, "That sounds scary."

"… Yeah. Terrifying."

[eosofspades]

Something always confused me about the messages Cayde left to his 'killers'. Like, while he could be annoying at times, I just don't see, say, Ikora or the Guardian killing him. Could you clear it up for me?

not sure what prompted this ask, but i would LOVE to talk about Cayde let's go

to me, the thing about Cayde that a shockingly small amount of people seem to understand is that this guy is deeply self-loathing. the best way i've ever seen it summed up is "he was a terrified man who was mostly terrified of himself." (you can read that post here btw.)

Cayde blames and guilts himself for so much. Andal becoming the Vanguard, Andal dying, Taniks not staying dead, making up Ace and his Queen, not remembering Ace and his Queen, probably the Red Legion attack on the Last City (i think it might have been written somewhere that satellites/security was his job, but don't quote me on that) - he's constantly running away from his problems and responsibilities, and when he isn't, he's doing everything he can to try and fix them himself (e.g., one-man suicide mission plan to kill Ghaul.)

moreover, his entire jokester persona is so deeply ingrained into his identity that he genuinely doesn't know if anyone even knows him. in his message to Ikora he says he wasn't even sure if she ever liked him, and Ikora confides to the Guardian that she considered him one of her closest friends.

as such, i think it's completely reasonable within his character for him to assume, somehow, that there could be a reason for Ikora or the Guardian to kill him. he doesn't consider himself integral to the Vanguard "team," and, by extension, to the City. he would like them to like him, of course, but even if they like the lax, aloof, jokester persona he puts on - he doesn't know if they like him. he doesn't even seem confident that anyone would like the real him.

so, if they had to kill him for whatever reason - "the good of the City," because he messed something up, because he did something terrible, some kind of Darkness-corruption (him or them), maybe even if he was just that insufferable and they'd finally had enough - he thinks of himself so lowly that he wouldn't really be able to blame them. (in most of his audios he even sort of has a reason planned - he pissed off Eris badly enough, Zavala had to kill him for the good of the City, the Guardian saved him on Nessus so he "owed it to them anyway" - i think that he carries so much guilt and exhaustion, especially with regards to everything that happened to Andal, that, on some level, he feels like he deserves it.)

so, in regards to your question, sure, WE can't imagine Ikora or the Guardian killing him, but we are the audience, and Cayde doesn't have any idea as to how anyone else might feel about him when the chips are down.

(in fact, life on the line, if someone had to die, i doubt Cayde would even let it be anyone in the City but him. i have a whole post planned about Forsaken + themes of sacrifice, but his whole "Not if I get there first," followed by personally sailing down into a deadly explosion (even with a Ghost) is very indicative of this and a much broader sort of self-sacrificial-ness, but that's... a much longer post.)

[jankwritten]

Jasico Bingo Challenge: CHB Jason

Nico isn’t sure what’s worse: the fact that his childhood best friend seemingly disappeared into thin air a week ago, or the fact that the hottest guy he’s ever seen in his life has mysteriously appeared within Camp Jupiter’s walls. 

“Of course it was the first cohort,” he overhears after a Senate meeting, whispered in the halls. “He must be crazy powerful, if Lupa didn’t even need to train him!” 

“Shut up, that’s just a rumor. Everyone has to meet Lupa.” 

“They definitely met,” the first voice insists. Nico leans further into his shadows. The pair pass in front of him. “But she just let him go.” 

Hot guy is, of course, the gossip of the week. The month, even. 

Nico privately decides that hot guy is worse, only because it seems like his presence alone has turned the Legion into morons who’ve forgotten their freakishly powerful, supposed-to-be-Praetor has literally evaporated. Poof! No more son of Neptune! 

Nico would think the people who just a few years ago made a massive deal out of every move said son of Neptune made would pay a little more attention to the fact that the whole freaking man is gone! 

But no. There’s new gossip to be had, about a blonde with drool-worthy eyes and a scar on his lip and a suspiciously-missing backstory. 

Spend enough time in the Underworld, and you learn to suspect the whole amnesia act. Shades always know more than they pretend to. 

As the senate hall empties, Nico sinks fully back into the shadows. 

He will not let this stand. 

(to be continued)