#cw: crying

[steampunkserpent27]

Hello!

I would like to request something about animagus or patronus moment. Can be hurt/comfort or just fluff 😘

Thank you! ❤️

Thank you so much for this request! I wanted to come up with something fun for it! So, I hope you enjoy a little bit of hurt/comfort. @nelweensfic CW: Mentions of Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Crying Harry rolled over to find the bed empty. Still groggy from sleep, he patted the spot beside him, as if the action would summon Draco back to him. When Draco did not return, he sat up, his head swimming from the sudden movement. The bedroom was completely dark, as the shades were still drawn. There was no sign of light from anywhere in the house, and the bathroom door was wide open, so he ruled that possibility out immediately. Getting to his feet, he wandered around the room in a slow, meandering circle, before he headed towards the hallway, deciding to check the rest of the dim house. The door let out a sharp squeal, as he pushed it open and slunk out of their room. Feeling his way through the dark, he cursed himself for not remembering his wand and promptly turned back around to fetch it. It was laying on their nightstand, right where he had left it. "Lumos." A harsh, blue light illuminated the darkness, momentarily blinding him, as his eyes fought to adjust. Once he could see, he continued on his journey and stepped into the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen. There was a soft sniffling sound, broken by an ocassional frantic gasp emanating from behind the counter. He turned in its direction and peered around the corner to find Draco crumpled on the floor with his face clasped between his hands, as his shoulders trembled with every quiet sob. Without speaking, he slid to the floor beside him. The cold tile stung his bare feet, as Draco slumped against him, his entire body sagging with defeat. "Another nightmare?" Harry asked. Draco nodded, his fingers twitching and digging into the delicate skin around his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" His head shook minutely, while another ragged cry escaped him. "Can I make a patronus for us?" Draco's hands lowered, just enough to reveal his watery, red eyes, before he nodded. Tightening his grip on his wand, he whispered, "Nox," and plunged them both into darkness. Finding a memory came naturally to him now, he no longer had to fight through all of his complicated and painful emotions to drudge something positive to the surface. He thought of how Draco's lips tilted ever so slightly upwards when he was trying to hide that he liked something. He thought of how his eyes had shone and his emotionless mask had slipped, when he finally built up the courage to tell Draco that he loved him. He thought of how soft and silky his lips were and how warm his hand was on a cold day. He thought of the home they had made together, tucked away and hidden from the drama of the world. He thought of Draco, always Draco. "Expecto Patronum." A soft, glowing light filled the air, chasing away the darkness with warmth and happiness. The light grew, forming into a brilliant stag. Draco's hands fell away, leaving his expression completely open. His lips still trembled and his eyes were still rosy, but he didn't seem as tormented as he had a moment earlier. "Thank you." Draco whispered, closing his eyes and basking in the soft glow. He took his hand, locking their fingers together, while his stag bounded towards them, closing the distance easily. It lowered itself beside Draco, laying its head across his lap. "I've got you. You're okay." Letting out a content sigh, Draco shifted to the side, resting his head against Harry's shoulder. "I know." "You could've woken me. You don't have to run anymore." "I wanted to let you sleep." "Wake me next time, please?" "Okay." Draco's voice was muffled and dreary, as he completely relaxed against him. "Why don't we lay back down and try to get some sleep?" "Okay." Taking Draco's arm, he helped to pull him to his feet, leading him back towards their bedroom, while his shimmering stag trotted after them.

[404-writing-error]

Rain

There's something so holy about walking barefoot on a wet sidewalk after it rains

The fresh water is still cold to the flesh, making it tingle with the sparks of lightning that finally found their way to the ground

That is to say, there's something so holy about the rain

Seeing the little paw prints my dog leaves on the dry spot by our door is something only I pay attention to

They dry up within the hour but the memory of them is still there

Even when we go back inside the rain still clings to my skin like it's a lifeline

Sometimes, when the rain is just calm enough, I go sit outside and watch it pour

Revel in the sound of rain hitting the grass while reaching my open palm out into its cool embrace

One time, my best friend and I stood in our driveways and let the rain pour over us

Drenched our clothes and sent drops down our faces while we went back inside to gather our things and jump in the puddles around our neighborhood

That was how we bonded

We coated ourselves in rainwater and danced around the world like we were children again

When my life flashes before my eyes I hope these are the things I remember

I hope I get to hear the way the rain plummeted to the Earth and slammed into the ground like a bullet

One day I'll be in the clouds, looking down at my childhood home

I'll hear the thunder that exploded down the halls every time my parents spoke

I'll catch the raindrops that spilled from my eyes and put them out in the gardens that couldn't grow

I'll sprinkle them over my room and make sure they splatter on the windows

Coat the sidewalk with the slick waters from my cloudy eyes

We're gonna need a lot of healing, and what's more healing than cold water clinging to bare feet after it rains?

[sheeplief]

couldn't sleep so decided to draw something real quick

[beebundt]

im busy with an art trade but wanted 2 share some recent scraps of charlie. i haven't posted abt her in years oh my god

[raphaerolo]

Get this man medical attention and a hug

[girlatrocity]

it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter

inspo credits to "Veil" by @/_K0TTERl_

toga ver

[kathaynesart]

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST

What, you thought there wasn't going to be some drama in this holiday special?? Do you even know me???

Also, see?? Leo’s doing fine! It’s been a few years since the last post so he’s had plenty of time to set up all his unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Whew, I have to say this special is easily the most extensive thing I've done so far for Replica. This is the only time we'll probably see the Central Park Colony in its hay day so wanted to make the effort to show what I could. I love visual story telling, but hate doing backgrounds haha, it's a problem! I'll admit this is a lot messier than what I've been doing as of late but we're just going to have to deal since we have so much ground to cover. It might get messier, I make no promises. Next up, I think Casey and Raph need to have a talk.

[wild0moon]

little man's lucky he's gay because he's never having kids after this

[willowser]

once you and katsuki discover you're expecting, you agree to keep it to yourselves for a little while.

you can't hide forever, but you want the chance to bask in the excitement of what's to come, together, away from outside eyes prying in. and you do: there's an immediate difference in the way you touch each other, how often, with katsuki even shifting coverage for patrol just so he can cling to your side for an extra day or two. it's like a honeymoon, almost, and you take the time to enjoy it like one.

but of course he wants to tell his parents as soon as he can, though he doesn't outright admit it; as soon as you start pushing the boundary of your waistband, he finds time in his schedule to see his dad—and then mitsuki makes time for him to see her.

katsuki tells toshinori next, who becomes quite emotional at the sight of your ultrasound, which in turn makes katsuki surprisingly emotional, too. there's much that they say and even more that they don't, but it's all communicated, regardless.

and lastly—he has to tell his nerd-ass friends.

it happens on one of their bi-monthly outings—that katsuki has consecutively been skipping for a little while, for obvious reasons. and it's like the minute he sits down in his seat and orders his food and one beer, everything he'd planned to say dissolves in his head.

despite wanting to keep quiet, he's been trying to plot out his announcement to these exact shit heads since the moment you found out. it's just so personal, and even after everything, katsuki's still discovering how to share those parts of his life with others, still coming to terms with the fact that he wants to.

he'd considered doing it slowly, rather than all at once in front of all of them, but he very quickly realized how terrible of a plan that was; deku would not physically be able to contain such knowledge in his body for any period of time, kirishima is a notorious fucking gossip, and if shouto had given him some kind of shit ass, wrinkled-nose look, he would have had to howitzer him through a building.

so he just says it, because he's never really been one for subtlety.

right after everyone's received their food and started to take their first bites, denki makes a point to ask,

"how's things with your honeybun, kacchan?"

and normally he'd have a fit at the nickname, but instead he hears bun and feels his stomach flip like it does when he remembers, when silly little things remind him of what the two of you have made together, and into his food, he simply says,

"we're havin' a baby."

the expected silence falls over all of them, save for the scaping of utensils against katsuki's bowl. he's damn good at feigning nonchalance, but food is getting stuck in his throat and his heart is beating so hard that he can hear it deep in his eardrums. of course he knows, but it dawns on him again, how overrun he is with excitement.

across the table, denki takes his turn to speak again. "you're...what?"

and then the whole room is erupting into a mass of chaos, moving in pieces like a riot of unrefined children, and even though he's being hounded with a million questions and being shaken around by his shoulders and some of these assholes are crying—katsuki graces them all with a big, fat grin.

[bubblingsteam]

[risuniya]

Hi

[notetaeker]

“Take these biscuits with you to heaven.”

‘A father went to buy biscuits for his son, and when he returned, he found his son and wife killed by Israeli missiles on the house to which they had fled in Khan Younis.’

[bouquetofalliums]

wilbur soot's statement is the furthest it can be from an apology. its vague, baseless, lacks Any sort of accountability, and feels like some shit chatgpt made up. two pages, four paragraphs and... Not a single Im Sorry. and to think i expected any better of him and i REALLY DID. his response to his other mild controversies were genuine and decent at best. this just lacks Everything. i read the first two sentences and my eyes rolled to the back of my fuckin head

disregarding that the way he downplays his own abuse astounds me. because WE KNOW EVERYTHING. we've heard from the victim and there were Witnesses. you say you were snobbish, disrespectful and selfish, but aside from the biting thing; do you ever address that time you pinned her down to claim you were stronger than her although knowing shelby has gone through past sexual assault? how you weaponized her safe word? how you locked her up in your house for days? how you never cleaned up over yourself and made her do all the work? how you gaslit her and her friends and Humiliated her in front of them ????? no amount of therapy or change you've claimed to have gone through can excuse any of your vile behaviours ESPECIALLY when it comes WITHOUT an apology. you cry about how you've changed to us but you don't care at all! because it was all about fame and money to you, right? us and our words mean so little to you, right?

you could've taken more time to polish this and to come from a place of genuinity and none of us would have complained. rather you put out some flat disingenuous slop and expected us to eat it up. No! youve lost your devoted fanbase wilbur. if you didn't want your shitty actions to come out you shouldn't have been a shitty person in the first place.

whatever . i have more to say but i dont want to waste my words on him. im so so fucking disappointed in that man and i hope to never see his face on the internet ever again . to think i spent the last 3 years and more just blindly supporting and loving his music and content without thinking anything else of it .... i feel so sick . I feel so so sick

sending all the love and support to shelby, lexie, rhana, sophie, and to anyone and all who have been deeply hurt by his actions in any way whatsoever

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 136

 There is a small child floating in the Watchtower. 

They’re visibly not human, a too-big cloak of purple (what shade no one knows, all they can describe about the cloak is purple, nothing else) hanging from them as big Lazarus-green eyes glare down in something of a pout. The child huffs, blowing white hair out of their face despite it shimmering and shifting on its own already. 

How the child, inhuman or not, found their way into the Watchtower- without setting off an alarm no less- is a concern. A very large concern, but it can wait because there is a four-year old (if the child is the equivalent of a human child that is) at oldest staring down at them. 

 “Do you know where the speedsters are?” the child piped up after an awkward stare-down, none of the league members present quite sure what to do in this situation. It was probably around time to call Batman… or they could call Flash instead. 

[mobius-m-mobius]

#just a wizard gentleman and his butler 🪄🎩

[ivysangel]

Jason as a nibbler, a neck biter, a vampire. Not literally, he doesn't need blood to survive, no, but the way his mouth somehow always finds your neck, always finds a way to catch his teeth on your carotid, you'd think he did.

He comes up behind you so innocently sometimes, his hands ghosting over your hips and his hair tickling your jaw. His beautiful, soft, jet-black hair that is so quickly replaced with sharp nips of his teeth. You pull away, pushing his head back with your hand, and he groans; what did I do, his eyes say when he lifts his head to look at you. "You're biting me." you point to the teeth marks on your neck, indents a little deeper where his canines were. "I'm loving you."

You patiently wait for the day he gets carried away and accidentally draws blood, the day when the permissiveness of your flesh gives way to this indulgent behavior of his. He'll nose at the tiny droplets of blood collecting around the puncture wounds, licking and laving as a pool of iron collects on his tongue. Pulling away, looking like a wolf who's just devoured its prey, with blood smeared on the tip of his nose and his pupils blown wide.

He'd tasted blood before when he'd punched too hard, when he'd been punched too hard; the taste was always bitter in his mouth, too metallic, and always lingering long after he'd washed it away with water, but not yours. No, yours was welcome, just as bitter and metallic but also sweet? Comforting? Welcome? Yes, welcome. He'd welcomed you into his life a multitude of times, made room for you in places he'd previously thought to be too cramped. In his home, in his mind, in his heart, but the one place he could never figure out how to integrate you was his body.

Of course, he'd had sex with you, let you touch him in ways he had never been touched before, seen him at his most vulnerable, but it would never be the same for him as it was for you. You could never be inside of him the way he was inside of you. He thought he'd never know how it felt to walk around with ghosts of you inside of him the way you did when he came too deep or stretched you out too much. He thought he'd never know what it felt like to carry a part of his lover around with him outside of a material object. Now, he knew otherwise; he knew there was an alternative—a painful, bloody alternative—but an alternative nonetheless.