#and her wonderful fic

[nightthinker-08]

I couldn't sleep so I drew some Pomnies shes surprisingly fun to draw lol Oh and some doomed yuri too I guess xD buttonblossom is cute n all but calling them doomed yuri or digital yuri is a lot funnier to me

[aerequets]

trying to erase the trace of...

[turtleinsoup]

Check out "Down with The Stockholm" on Ao3 by @devotedtosadpoetry!!

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

If Tsu'tey lived and met my OC:

Tsu'tey: Ah, another Suli, here to stomp around and make a mess of things.

Kayla: ... You seem nice.

Tsu'tey: You should go away.

Kayla: Nah, you'd miss me.

Tsu'tey:

[mahikamihan]

And The Universe Answered by Bagelrites/@bagelrites

“Then where have you been? And why the hell does it take a fucking baby for you to come!?”

Bad’s jaw hung open, Skeppy’s words loud enough to almost echo through the small frame of the car. He slammed his hands on the wheel and bent forward, shivering with sobs, and Bad gulped, doing his utmost to keep from crying, too.

“Oh, Skeppy… I never meant for—I didn’t want—I hate thinking that I hurt you.” Bad rubbed his back, hands gentle. Cautious. “I love you a lot. Like, so much. It’s not your fault I’m—I’m just—all messed up. With relationships and stuff like that.”

“Clearly,” Skeppy scoffed, trying to sound mean again, but his voice was too wet for it to really be effective.

[birdcatt]

ok so i KNOW hero/darkrai and/or partner/darkrai is very much a road of hurt/comfort. HOWEVER i think hero/partner/darkrai has Comedic Potential

forbidden version where leaf doesn't have floppy ears below the cut

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 13

PREVIOUS

“I can’t believe you would go out on Black Friday to grocery shop but I guess thanks for going out on Black Friday to grocery shop.” Aaron greets him with as FF moves over to the table.

Andrew and Captain Neil had apparently went out shopping.

Andrew and Captain Neil had apparently come back and have been in Andrew’s room for the past couple hours.

“Josten probably wanted to go to Excites for some gear. I don’t know what my brother sees in that Exy-obsessed jerk.” Aaron says as he eats his own smiley eggs and bacon. FF hears the sound of a hammer and a drill from Andrew’s room.

Heart in his throat he forces himself not to think about what Andrew and Captain Neil COULD be building.

(A guillotine, an iron maiden, that weird wedge thing that splits people in half at the groin, He should NOT have taken that Spanish history class. Oh god it’s probably a fence so he can’t escape whatever hunting ground Andrew is going to drag him to if he can’t buy his continued existence via baked good.)

“Shut up, they’re actually really sweet to one another.” Nicky chastises before turning to FF, “Because of that your final serving goes to Smithy. He deserves it more than you.” Nicky says and slides the final plate of eggs and bacon.

“He’s just as bothered by it as I am!” Aaron scowls.

“By what?” FF asks because there are a lot of things that bother him so Aaron is going to have to be more specific.

“By those two being all close. I’ve seen the way you turn and walk away.” Aaron reaches across the table for his bacon but FF just pushes the plate closer to him. The two plates he had already eaten were more than enough, especially after the full dinner that they’d had the night before. “You’re grossed out by it too right?” He asks as he goes to stab the bacon.

FF slides the plate away and Aaron stabs the table.

FF is NOT HOMOPHOBIC.

His gran raised him better than that.

“I don’t agree with you.” He says because he doesn’t but can’t bring himself to say anymore. He’s in Aaron’s house, he stole Aaron’s keys that morning to lock up the house.

(it was so rude but what if someone broke in because he left the house unlocked? What if someone got hurt just because he wanted to ensure his own survival? Isn’t it better that he just borrowed Aaron’s keys to make sure that no one in the house got hurt? Does FF still believe with every fiber of his being that Andrew Minyard is trying to murder him in this exact house? Yes. Can these concerns coexist peacefully? Also yes.)

If anything he finds Captain Neil and Andrew to be an incredibly nice couple. They talk about things together, they make plans about their future, their PDA was actually pretty minimal (especially in comparison to Aaron), and he had figured out the weird code Andrew talked in so he was pretty sure that Andrew and Neil loved one another.

The only issue he has with the couple is that they are out at a store probably buying supplies to torture and then kill FF.

Otherwise they were perfectly fine.

Aaron scowls, “You can’t be serious. You walk away faster than you run on the court when you see the two of them getting all gross.” He points with his fork and tries to grab the bacon again.

FF frowns deeper.

“I walk away even faster from you and your girlfriend.” He returns because Aaron and Katelyn are the couple who have been the MOST guilty of initiating something in front of him when he was in ‘Visible only when the sunlight strikes him at the exact right angle on the summer solstice’ mode.

 He had tried to clear his throat to get them to quit quite a few times but…well…he has heard Katelyn mention that one of her and Aaron’s favorite ‘hang out’ spots might be haunted….so he hadn’t been overly successful.

“PDA makes me uncomfortable in general. Captain Neil and Andrew are a very nice couple who you shouldn’t talk bad about.” He defends as one of the only people who would know exactly how thoughtful the two were to one another.

He hopes his Gran is proud of him for saying something.

Aaron looks at him with a twisted mouth for a while before relenting, “Fine they’re not that bad. It’s just a big brother thing.” Aaron rolls his eyes.

FF swallows down some acid in his throat and pushes the smiling eggs and bacon over to Aaron who smiles back at the breakfast and proceeds to eat it.

A big brother thing.

FF gets up and heads over to the final bag that Andrew had left out on the counter. FF had bought some additional offerings for his mortal soul to tide Andrew over while he made the brownies. It’s also where the incense and his latest two five hour energies should still be.

He finds the incense, wonders if he hallucinated the five hour energies (very possible), and hands Nicky a box of sour patch kids to distract him when he comes over.

“Smithy, why the hell are you lighting incense?” Nicky asks because the sour patch kids were NEVER going to be enough to distract Nicky. That would take something on the level of Swedish Fish but he’d been more focused on avoiding the candy thrown by an irate woman towards a member of Target staff because the grocery department couldn’t get her the redemption coupon for one of the flat screens in the Electronic department so he had FAILED to procure them. He’d even seen a box sail through the air is bullet time because his brain was too hopped up on Five Hour Energy but he’d let it go believing he could just grab a box at check out. THEN HE ZONED OUT IN THE CHECK OUT LINE AS HE STARED AT BOTH THE FUTURE AND THE PAST AND FORGOT HE WAS IN THE PRESENT WHERE HE HADN’T GOTTEN THE DAMN SWEDISH FISH.

“I’m going to make my Great Grandma’s brownies.” He says in response, “I’m hoping to channel her so I don’t mess up.” He says.

“Oh! More grandma baking goodies?! I can be your assistant baker! What do you need?” Nicky says visibly vibrating with excitement at the prospect. “We can listen to Mariah and I can lick the spoon!”

There is a noise of revulsion from the kitchen table.

“Don’t let him lick the spoon Smiths! He gets WEIRD about it.”

“That sounds like what someone who wants to lick the spoon would say.”

“Oh shut up!”

“That’s not a NO!”

The cousins continue to argue about spoon licking rights as FF gets started checking to make sure that the kitchen has all the necessary equipment to even make his brownies. He’d been so tired (last night? This morning?) that he hadn’t thought about even checking that the cousins would have things like a glass bowl, an baking dish, pie tin, etc.

Thankfully FOR ONCE luck is on his side and FF does not have to walk back to the Target.

So he finishes pulling out everything he’ll need, getting the oven pre-heated, and pulling out the ingredients for the brownies from the fridge.

He lights some incense with the stove top burners sends a quick prayer up and wonders if maybe a ouija board would have been better but if the Home Goods section had been a dangerous spot then the toy section would have been like walking into an active war zone. There are no laws as far as parents are concerned when it comes to getting the ‘it’ toy for their kids. FF has watched the highs and lows of humanity in the Barbie aisle more than once.

So he melts chocolate, he sifts flour and sugar, he separates eggs, and he uses every muscle that Kevin’s insane work out regiment had given his arms to whip those egg whites into stiff peaks. He knows his great gran is with him when Nicky and Aaron continue to argue (they are now talking about the ethics of licking the spoon vs. licking the bowl? He doesn’t quite get how they got there but alright) so Nicky doesn’t hear him say “Stiff Peaks Acquired” to himself because he knows Nicky well enough to know that he would have NEVER heard the end of it.

He uses all of the delicacy his gran had ever tried to teach him to fold those egg whites into the chocolate and then to fold in the flour and sugar. There are more steps, more ingredients, but unless you are family then those are CLASSIFIED.

Great Gran had always been the suspicious sort.

The oven beeps to let him know it’s done pre-heating as he’s carefully transferring his great gran’s life’s work into the baking dish.

He was so focused that he hadn’t even realized that Andrew was back until he turned to do the dishes and found Andrew holding the bowl and running his fingers through the scant remaining mix and shoving it into his mouth.

He is surprise that the scream remains in his head. He’s even more surprised that he stays upright. Maybe the nap did him some good even if it let Andrew and Captain Neil build whatever torture device they were intending to use on him.

He really needs to drink some pepto. He doesn’t think that Andrew will pause their ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ recreation to let FF manage his ulcers. Andrew is staring straight at him.

Andrew offers him the spoon.

FF declines. Raw eggs, sugar, and chocolate? With THIS stomach? He’d almost prefer to be chased through whatever enclosure Andrew is going to drag him to.

“When did you wake up?” Andrew asks.

“Hour ago.” He answers.

“Hm.”

“I’ll make the pie tomorrow.” he ventures trying to extend his life by another day.

Andrew shoves the spoon into his own mouth after that and walks out into the dining room. FF hears both Aaron and Nicky’s cries of anguish.

FF looks at the brownies in the oven at the incense burning on the counter and wonders if that was Andrew’s way of confirming his stay of execution.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something switched around in your  settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[scoopstomyahoy]

how do we think robin's parents would react if they caught steve in robin's room overnight

[luuxxart]

the kurusu magnetism™

[spicyraeman]

.

[theminecraftbee]

Dear sister,

I remember you now. Traitor. We were supposed to be sisters. We were supposed to care. What kind of caring is

I have one of your heads in a box. Your cat keeps on meowing at it. It didn’t actually kill you anyway. You know that. It’s spying, isn’t

Memory potions were always an awful idea, but it’s not like

I miss you

I hate you

Do you know how hard it is to trust people after

God you act like you’re so better than me but it’s not like only one of us got a reputation for that sword. It’s not like

How dare you have been sad when you

I have NIGHTMARES sister I have

Memory is a really fickle thing. You seemed more pleased when I didn’t remember. Maybe I was too. Maybe that was no way to live. I don’t know. I know who you are now, though. Who am I though? I don’t

Why do I hate clocks? I don’t remember that but

I miss

I hate

What did I do WRONG? Why did you decide I was the evil one? How are you any better? HOW ARE YOU ANY

I don’t want to be like this

You’re a coward

I feel like a coward

Why didn’t you just talk to me goddammit

One cow isn’t enough for a sustainable food source, you idiot.

- False

[darstellung]

[hood-ex]

Donna Troy added Dick Grayson Mia no fucking way

SCREEEAM @boiwcndr scream scream scream. I'm screaming into the void.

[eggsdrawings]

food critic falls hard for red-haired chef

it’s officially posting day for the @qpkrbkzine 💗

i had the pleasure of working with @drifting-manatee on her fic Taste, which is now on AO3! in her own words, “Katsuki and Eijirou share stories, memories and something deeper- one meal at a time.” please give it some love!

[chronicowboy]

i love you (and i like you) aka the parks and rec au | 65k

"Dad!" Christopher shouts suddenly, moving past Buck with frankly impressive speed. "There's a petting zoo!"

Buck spins around to greet Shannon's mysterious ex and he has to rub his eyes to make sure what he's seeing isn't a hallucination brought on by the sleep deprivation and blaring summer heat because Eddie Diaz is hefting Christopher up onto his hip like he weighs nothing, big cow eyes softer than Buck has ever seen them as he listens to his son—his son!!—ramble about the farm animals with a smile that almost brings Buck to his knees.

"Fuck," he hisses to himself.

"Yeah." Shannon sighs solemnly in solidarity. "They tend to have that effect on people."

"Christ, did you know this whole time?" he asks suddenly. Shannon grins at him.

"I had my suspicions after Eddie disappeared on us at Macarthur park and came back looking like a broken man." She shrugs. "But I didn't know you were the guy my ex-husband has been talking about constantly for the past week."

"Constantly?" Buck croaks. Shannon nods, a twinkle to her eyes. "All good things I hope, but all bad things I assume."

"All good things said with the tone of a man talking about the bad things," she says cryptically.

"Oh, God," Buck blanches. "I told him he hated kids."

"Oh, yeah." Shannon laughs. "That was a fun day for me. For Eddie, not so much."

And Buck hasn't taken his eyes off Eddie since this revelation which is how he knows Eddie hasn't once looked away from his kid, but it also means he's looking when Eddie looks back at him with something wary to the set of his jaw. Shannon steps forward then and starts ushering Chris towards the petting zoo with a pointed glance at the both of them, and Buck is widening his eyes apologetically before they're even out of earshot.

"Eddie, I am so fucking sorry," he rushes out. "I was angry when I said that, but I had no right to accuse you of it, kid or no kid or best kid in the whole world. Which. I don't have to tell you how many kids I meet in this job, Eddie, but I've never met a kid like Chris."

"Yeah, he's pretty special," Eddie murmurs, eyes on Christopher as he navigates his way through the crowd. "And I appreciate your apology," Eddie says to him, "but your fourth outburst was actually kind of helpful?" He squints at himself before shaking his head. "What I mean is that I do everything for that kid. Absolutely everything I do... It's all for him, you know?" And, God, the pure, unfiltered love in Eddie's voice is enough to make Buck reconsider religion because this must be what real worship looks like. "But sometimes I get so in my head about what I'm doing for him that I forget that its, you know, for him. You reminded me of that," Eddie says softly, only turning to meet his eyes once Chris is balanced against the railing of the goat enclosure. Buck gets a little breathless at the remnants of his gentle love on his face. "So, thank you. For reminding me." Eddie smiles at him for a beat before it twists into an expression of realisation. "Wait, you're the park creep that befriended my son and flirted with my ex?"

"Well, that's not..." Buck rubs a sheepish hand over the back of his neck and kicks at the ground. "Shannon flirted with me first, it was instinct to flirt back. And she's the one that called me a creep, Christopher thinks I'm cool."

"Yeah, he does," Eddie breathes out. "Shannon told me what you did for him. With the swing."

"Oh, I didn't do anything." Buck waves him off. "He looked interested is all."

"Well, you made his week. Couldn't stop talking about wanting to be a park ranger. Still won't stop talking about it actually." Eddie shoots him one of those soft-eyed looks.

"There'll be an internship waiting for him when he's sixteen," Buck mutters hoarsely before stuffing his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes. "You know, if there's still a parks department for me to be a part of."

"Well then, guess I'll have to see what I can do." Eddie winks at him, then blinks at himself like he's wondering what the fuck he just did—and Buck is right there with him—before gravitating towards his son.

tags and a bonus under the cut!

@danielsousa @gracelcdomas @angstydiaz @jamietarts @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck @haradrimculture @pinky-promisesss @starlingbite @dontneedmyheart @spaceprincessem @prince-buck-diaz @shortsighted-owl @buck2eddie @diazly