#fury in the askbox

[fiddles-ifs]

I dunno about everyone else's Fury but to mine there will be no gods no masters they just want to go back into the nutrient vat forever

NO GODS

NO COUNTRIES

NO MASTERS

RETURN TO THE PRIMORDIAL GREEN GOO FROM WHENCE YOU CAME

[prodijedi-archive]

@mutatiio     sent       …       hc + 🚬 for a headcanon about a bad habit

╰► SOURCE: Thematic Headcanons

Even after Dooku fully embraces the light once more, the lasting consequences of serving dark side still make their presence known through a couple of BAD HABITS.

⠀⠀ KNEELING was a sign of utmost respect and ultimate submission in the world of the SITH. During the vast majority of interactions that he has with Darth Sidious, it was Dooku’s instinct to drop to one knee — customary of an apprentice, when spoken to by their master. The JEDI, however, have no need for such displays of loyalty, and thus, kneeling in front of authority figures is a survival instinct that Dooku must unlearn when he rejoins the Order. He has served EVIL for so long that he has forgotten what it is like to live amongst his family, where he can spend his days in freedom without the need to demonstrate his fear of another.

FORCE CHOKING is another practice of the Sith which has left Dooku scarred. When he returns to the ranks of the Jedi, Dooku finds it immensely difficult to comprehend that he can freely speak his mind in the presence of authority, without fear of punishment. Hence, upon expressing his disagreement with a decision made by an authority figure, Dooku has the unfortunate tendency of reaching for his throat and letting his fingertips rest on it, as though mentally preparing himself to be force choked.

[bumblerhizal]

how is your murkrow still only level 54… level up!!! lol

hench the murkrow and i have decided to pursue contests instead of battling 😌

also i ran out of my rare candy allowance

[macbethsymphony]

charlou my love! I'm about to invade your askbox with all my horny thoughts. Dont' you dare answer them all at the same time, I know you're busy <3

Ok so! As you know I'm rewatching Wano and you know that gif of Marco's mouth? (sent it to you I don't know how many times). Anyways it sent my mind spiraling into what if Marco was angry with you and it just made him snap? My pretty usually composed bird just losing it? I bet he'd fuck good hehe

love ya! -M✨

Millie bb!!!!! I was gonna keep this one really short but you made it spiral out into something almost complete!!!! How dare you?! (jk love you for it)

It's this gif, right? ngl it sends my mind spiraling into unholy territory too

You're infuriating

Marco x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re angry at Marco and he’s angry at you and you fuck. It’s that simple ;)

tw: MDNI, 18+, nsfw, rough-ish angry sex, fingering, p in v sex

wc: 3.2k

It was a well-known fact that the first commander of the Whitebeard Pirates was nearly impossible to anger, notoriously difficult to rile up. Countless people had tried and failed to provoke him. But you? You didn’t even have to try, didn’t have to lift a single finger to bring him to the edge of madness.

"Do you even realize the risk you took back there, yoi?" Marco's voice thundered through the narrow corridor leading to the infirmary, every word laced with barely contained fury.

The stomps of your footsteps against the wooden floor echoed loudly, matching the volume of your voices and punctuating the escalating tension between you. Each of your step left a small imprint of blood, the pain in your leg raging but ignored as wrath blinded your senses.

"I had everything under control," you shot back, your own tone rising in defiance. "Until you—" Abruptly, you halted, turning around and jabbing your index finger into his chest with force. "Until YOU decided to fucking swoop in."

Marco's eyes blazed, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles twitched visibly. "Under control? You call that under control?" he retorted, his voice dangerously low. "You were inches away from becoming sea king feed, and you think that's control?"

The infirmary doors loomed ahead, your destination within reach but forgotten, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "I sure as hell didn't need your heroics," you spat, words dripping with bitterness. "I had it perfectly laid out, and you ruined it."

“Ruined it?” Marco scoffed, his expression darkening. "Your plan nearly got you killed. Again." His statement hung heavy in the air, the weight of his frustration palpable. “When are you going to learn to fucking listen to me, yoi?”

Listen to him? That made you see red. "Listen to you, Marco?" You stepped closer, and he instinctively stepped back, his eyes widening at the pure rage in yours. "You are not MY commander. Ace is." You looked him up and down, a sneer twisting your lips. "I don’t have to listen to a single word you say, pretty bird." The usually playful nickname was now laced with venom as you spat it out.

He regained his footing, stepping forward as you stepped back, the anger in his gaze blazing harsher than you'd ever seen. He started to speak, but you turned on your heel, determined to make your point, your quick steps leading you toward the sanctuary of the infirmary.

"Oi, get back here," he yelled after you. "I’m not done, yoi."

"Oh, fuck you, Marco." You shouted. "As I said, I don’t have to listen to you."

Marco's frustration boiled over. With a swift motion, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to face him. The sudden movement brought you chest to chest, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

“You will listen to me, yoi,” he growled, his voice low and threatening, his breath hot against your lips.

You laughed in his face, a rich, bitter sound. Fucking asshole. With your free hand, you unclasped the holster at your side, expertly cocking one of your guns and pointing it right at his face.

“Unhand me right now, pretty bird, or I swear I’ll fucking shoot.”

His grip on your wrist tightened, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. A manic smile broke on his lips. "You wouldn't dare," he whispered, his voice a mix of challenge and something darker, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your finger twitched on the trigger, but you didn’t pull it. He took a step forward, then another, and another, until he had you flush against the wall. His free hand shot over your shoulder, and he leaned close, effectively trapping you in.

“You will listen to me, yoi,” he repeated, his lips brushing yours.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of anger and something you’d never admit to.

Fucking asshole.

The adrenaline still surged through your veins, the proximity, the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes—it all combined to create a heady, intoxicating tension that made it hard to breathe.

“You think you can intimidate me, first commander?” you whispered, your voice full of insolence. You cocked your head back, looking down at him from your low vantage point. You slid the nozzle of your gun against his neck, across his chest, pointing it at his crotch. “It’s your last warning, pretty bird.”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved, the air between you charged and electric. Then, with a sudden, desperate urgency, he crashed his lips against yours.

It was a violent collision of emotions, a raw, unfiltered exchange that left you breathless. Marco's lips were demanding, his grip on your wrist unyielding as he poured all his pent-up anger and passion into you. And you responded in kind, matching his intensity with your own, all teeth and tongue, clashing and almost snarling into it.

For a moment, everything else drifted away—the battle, your argument, the constant push and pull between you. Your hand fell to your side, gun forgotten and all that remained was the heat of his body pressed against yours, the taste of his lips, and the desperate need to assert your own power in the midst of his.

But you were nothing if not defiant. With a sharp twist, you broke free of his grip, shoving him back hard enough to make him stumble. Your eyes were blazing as you leveled the gun at him once more, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Don't think for a second that you can just kiss me to shut me up," you snapped, your voice trembling with fury.

Marco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a wild, dangerous light in them, a reflection of your own intensity. "And don't think for a second that I won't do it again, yoi," he shot back, his voice low and rough, a deadly promise that shattered the careful balance between the two of you. Slowly he stepped towards you.

Fucking asshole.

You retreated, each step a painful reminder of the battle that had just ensued, leaving smears of blood on the wooden floor that turned into dark smudges on the sterile tiles of the infirmary. Marco's deliberate footsteps echoed behind you as he closed the door, the latch clicking ominously in the small, quiet space.

Locked in a silent standoff, your eyes defiantly held his, the air thick with a volatile mix of anger and desire that pulsed between you. You leaned heavily against the cool surface of a nearby medical cabinet, swallowing hard against the rising tide of pain. The throbbing ache in your wounded leg grew more insistent, a stark contrast to the adrenaline high still coursing through your veins.

Gun held steady, your aim unwavering over his heart, Marco advanced with a dangerous calmness that belied the tension in the room.

“Put the gun down, yoi,” Marco growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble that ignited a primal response deep within you. “I know you won’t shoot.”

Your narrowed gaze bore into his, finger twitching with a tantalizing urge to prove him wrong.

“Not a fucking chance, pretty bird,” you shot back, words edged with defiance. “Not until you fuck off.”

As the barrel of your gun hit his chest, you could see light blue flames grazing his skin.

You scoffed.

Fucking asshole.

He wasn’t taking any chances, huh?

“You won’t shoot, yoi,” he commanded this time. There was an unusual sharpness in his gaze, condescension thick in his tone as he emphasized each word. 

And you hated it.

"You don’t get to order me around." Your finger tensed against the trigger, and as his hand moved to the barrel to push your gun away, you squeezed it.

It all blurred together. Bullets streaked through the air, passing through the haze of blue flames, burying themselves in the wall behind. In a swift motion, he disarmed you, gun falling with a loud clang on the tile. His grip on your wrist was so tight you felt the bruises forming, his other hand tangled in your hair, wrenching you back, your own fingers shooting to his forearm to keep your balance. Your body arched against the cabinet, and he closed in, looming over you, his ragged breaths brushing against your brazen smile.

Fucking asshole.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, drowning out the chaos of your mind as Marco pinned you against the medical cabinet with a ferocity that you didn’t know he possessed. You liked that look in his eyes. Unbridled fury suited him well.

“You fucking shot me, yoi,” he shouted in your face in bewilderment.

“I wish they’d been seastone bullets, you asshole,” you snarled.

He didn’t flinch at the harshness of your tone. Instead his lips curled into a predatory smile. As the shock subsided, amusement and lust swirled and mixed with the anger plaguing his features.

His tongue met your lower lip, then his teeth, taking all the time in the world, relishing the power he held over you in the moment.

His hand in your hair gripped harder, pulling you back further, nails dragging against your scalp. He wasn’t kind and the pain made you gasp, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. Your eyes fluttered close as his lips found yours and his tongue darted in, dominating yours.

The heat of his mouth melded with the anger still simmering beneath your skin, igniting a firestorm of desire that you fought to suppress. But resistance proved futile against the raw intensity of his touch, the taste of him searing into your senses.

Fuck.

Your legs felt weak and not because of the gaping wound on your thigh. The familiar dizziness of lust was starting to overtake the edges of your mind. A muffled groan escaped your throat, half defiance, half surrender as he deepened the kiss, devouring your response with a relentless hunger. His body pressed into yours, every line and angle hard against your own, a testament to the storm of emotions raging between you.

His hand left your wrist, and slid down your side, hairs rising in the trail of his touch. You struggled against the overwhelming pull of him, the magnetic force that drew you closer even as you fought to regain your composure. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, tracing upwards with a deliberate slowness that set your nerves alight.

As his touch grazed the curve of your breast, you let out a low, involuntary moan, the sound mingling with your ragged breaths. Your hands, no longer restrained, buried themselves in his open shirt, nails digging into fabric, pulling him somehow closer still.

He moved your head back, exposing your throat and his lips trailed along your skin. His hand roamed down to your hip, then to the front of your pants, fingers deftly undoing the buttons. He stopped at the lace of your underwear.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, a plea whispered against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. The grip on your hair loosened and you slacked against him slightly. "Tell me to stop, yoi, and I will."

“Oh, fuck you, Marco,” you mewled into him, words muffled as your lips found his again. 

With a growl of approval, he pressed himself closer, his hand slipping past the edge of your underwear. You bucked against his touch, a dangerous need driving you forward.

He took his time, tips of his fingers dragging up your slit, gathering your arousal. He teased and relished the desperation slowly etching on your features.

As you opened your mouth to complain, his fingers found their mark, and you let out a broken cry, the sensation sending shockwaves through you. Marco's touch was skilled, knowing exactly how to unravel you with each deliberate movement.

"Fuck, Marco," you gasped against his lips, your hips moving in time with his rhythm. You felt his fingers enter you, his palm delightfully dragging along your clit. 

Oh gods. You felt your legs start to shake, the sweet promise of rapture so near.

He drank in your whines and mewls, lips moving lazily against yours, his focus entirely on you, fingers working you closer and closer to the edge. His gaze seared in the image of pleasure twisting your features into his mind. So pretty under him. 

The world suddenly ceased to exist, the only reality the heat and intensity of his touch, the way he made you feel alive and on fire all at once. A sharp cry escaped you as you came, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

He quickly turned you around, the edge of the cabinet digging uncomfortably into your abdomen. You dimly heard the rattle of glass bottles and whatever instruments were locked in there, but it didn’t matter. He rolled his hips against yours and you could feel how hard he was against your rear. Suddenly you were ready to go at it again, craving to feel him inside you and you needed it now.

"Fuck me already," you demanded, impatience lacing your voice as you turned to face him. The sight that greeted you made you instantly regret it. His lazy grin of victory made your legs into jelly, and the satisfaction in his eyes ignited a desperate longing within you, making you want to moan his name.

Marco's grin widened, and he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Always so impatient, yoi,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

You glared at him, trying to maintain your defiance despite the tremor in your legs and the pool of arousal he’d just left in your underwear. "Just shut up and do it already," you snapped, words wavering slightly.

He hummed, considering.

His hand trailed up and down your back, dragging your shirt, fingers brushing over your skin with deliberate slowness. Every touch sent a growing need to your core, heightening your anticipation. You let out a frustrated growl, your body aching for more. "I swear, Marco, if you don't—"

“If I don’t what?” His hands played with the waistband of your pants, still stuck against the curve of your hips.  He let them pool at your feet and as he dragged down your lacy underwear, his lips traveled along your neck. “There’s nothing you can do to me little feather.”

You weren’t aware of when he’d undone his own trousers, but you could feel his tip against your folds, your slick coating his length. Your hand shot to the edge of the cabinet for balance, a shaky moan escaping your lips as he pressed against your clit, against your entrance. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see him, but he felt so big between your thighs and so frustratingly good.

You tried to back into him but he stopped you with a bruising hold on your hip. “Didn’t say ya could do that, did I?” he said as his hand tangled in your hair once again, pushing you forward, lifting your hips until you stood on tippy toes.

“I can do whatever I fuckin—” he started to enter you tortuously slowly. “Ah,” you gasped, he was stretching you so fucking much. “F-fuck.” Your thighs trembled and your knuckles went white as you gripped the edge of the cabinet with all your might. It was so fucking much.

“Ya can take it,” he grunted in your ear the strain of restraint evident in his voice. “Fuck that’s it. Be good for me, yoi.”

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he stopped, recentering himself.

You could barely hear the soft unsteady laugh that escaped his lips through your own pants. His hand trailed from your ass to the curve of your spine, firing an electric shock to your core and your cunt twitching around him.

“So fucking wet, and warm and tight.” You could feel the satisfaction in his voice. “Who knew you could be so obedient, yoi?” He punctuated his statement with a slap to your ass that sent you positively keening under him.

You felt some of your slick drip down your thigh and your cheeks heated. You ached to feel him move. “Just fuck me already, Marco,” you pleaded.

He leisurely slid out of you, teasingly unhurried and you felt the absence of him, the growing need to feel him fill you again. He let out a low chuckle as he sensed you spasm against his tip, your body telling all you stubbornly kept to yourself, begging for him in your stead.

“Look at you, yoi.” He palmed your ass roughly, making you wait. “You’re dripping to the floor.”

He slowly pushed back in, the friction against your walls making the world around you go blurry. You were grateful for his hold on you as his pace gradually picked up, entirely unable to trust your own legs. You shook beneath him, completely claimed, your moans sticking at the back of your throat, but he still frustratingly teetered right at the edge, never enough to allow your orgasm to build.

“Please, Marco,” you keened, your voice a high pitch cry you didn’t recognize. “More.”

He snapped his hips at your demand, turning his pace hard and brutal and it was suddenly too much. Every drag of his cock made you see stars, shattered your breath. You sobbed out his name in a desperate plea but instead he brought his fingers to your clit.

The moan you let out was obscene, only enhanced by the squelching noises and Marco’s forceful grunts. You were certain that something had broken in the cabinet, the sound of glass loud but it was evident neither of you cared as he somehow increased his pace.

Your body sought to curl upon itself but you were trapped and it was all too much. You were aware he was almost just as close as you, his erratic thrusts and the way he bit into your shoulder clear indicators.

The world seemed to fade around you and you were suddenly lost in the moment. Every sensation was amplified, the intensity of the waves of pleasure washing over you consuming you. As the tension built to a breaking point, you cried out his name, your body trembling with rapture.

Marco followed soon after, his own climax a fierce, shuddering release that left him breathless and spent. He held you close, his forehead resting against the damp skin of your neck, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Marco muttered, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder before backing off. You whined as you felt him pull out, felt his seed along your thigh. Your legs gave out and he quickly pulled you into his arms before you could hit the floor.

“Real infuriating, yoi,” he repeated, bringing you to one of the infirmary beds.

You smiled as he sat you down and as he made to retreat, you dragged him to you by his shirt. "Right back at you, pretty bird," you replied as you kissed him softly.

It was tender this time around and he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing soothing circles.

“Let me clean that for you,” he murmured, eyes looking at the wound on your thigh. “Wouldn’t want it to get infected, yoi.”

Masterlist

[happyhauntt]

forgiveness with teeth — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: nikolai lantsov is the most insufferable human being in ravka, and most unfortunately, anya is stuck with him.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: fluff, enemies, nikolai is a bit of an asshole but he's sixteen so it's allowed, threats of physical violence (but honestly he deserves it), swearing, krysa means 'rat'.

─── word count: 1.6k.

     There's something about Nikolai Lantsov that makes her want to break things.

     Anya can’t quite put her finger on what, exactly, gives her the urge to shove a rifle up his ass. Whether it’s the precise curve of his spine when he leans, half-slouching against any wall he can find, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his uniform, or the pitch of his voice when he cheers after winning a card game — she can’t say. She can’t even begin to guess.

     It’s just Nikolai, and Anya swears that there has never been another person alive to tempt her fury like that boy does.

     She didn’t always feel this way. Anya knows him… Well, she knows him as well as any nobleman’s daughter knows a prince, really. As a child, she would spend at least half the year at court in Os Alta. She recalls running riot through the hallways as she chased the boys, desperate to participate in their swordplay games, desperate to prove herself as something more. She’d sneak out of embroidery lessons and hide in the library, listening to lectures on diplomacy.

     Nikolai was much the same, when they were small. A troublemaker at his very core. It was impossible to miss the way his eyes twinkled at the prospect of adventure, and once or twice, they'd snuck into the Little Palace to watch the Grisha train. The Heartrenders had noticed them, catching onto the sound of two unfamiliar heartbeats racing with adrenaline, but they'd found it more amusing than anything else.

      As Anya grew older, and spent less time at the Grand Palace due to her ill health as her mother sequestered her on the family estate, or so the rumours claimed, what little relationship she’d built with Nikolai had changed from unlikely allies in mischief to mere acquaintances. A dance shared at her birthday ball, pleasantries exchanged at the Winter Fête, and not much else.

     Anya didn’t mind it much. She’d never been a gregarious person, and often found the constant smiles and simpering associated with her rank to be tedious.

     It was a matter of great misfortune, then, when she was assigned to his regiment.

     Even future duchesses must serve their country, and when she enlisted at sixteen, Anya's parents sent her off to battle with a stern warning not to draw attention to herself, and a flurry of fretful forehead kisses. Her mother's eyes, glassy with unshed tears, haunt her nightmares even now.

     Hunched over her breakfast in the mess hall, she hears him before he sees him. That obnoxious laugh, a rumbling sound that manages to carry all the way across the room. She almost winces as it sweeps over her, a tumultuous wave of noise. She’d bet her father’s title that they can hear him all the way in Ketterdam. 

     An eerie hush settles over the mess hall as he enters, chattering away with Dominik. The rest of their regiment isn’t used to having royalty in their midst quite yet, and seeing the fresh-faced prince join the peasants for his meals hasn’t sunk in. Anya wishes it would. The sooner they realise he isn’t any better than them — and, in several instances, is actually worse — then the sooner her sanity will return.

     She hopes.

      It's not a single thing about Nikolai that makes her so frustrated in his presence. He'd been a mischievous child, but so had she, so Anya can hardly judge him for that. He's a good soldier, humble and respectful to his peers despite his royal status. She’ll begrudgingly concede that all of this is true.

     But by the Saints, it doesn’t change the fact that he is insufferable.

     She makes a conscious effort not to look at him. Instead, she glowers down at her plate as his voice grows louder and louder. By the time she senses him come to a stop at her table, her breakfast no longer resembles anything edible, and she doesn’t feel any better.

     A moment of silence passes, then another, and then —

     "You're a wretched swine, Lantsov."

     She looks up at him, finally. He’s leaning against the table, one hand resting on its sticky surface. The wicked grin that stretches over his face makes a strange fight-or-flight feeling rise in her gut. She wonders how he'd look with claw marks all over his face. "Good morning to you too, Lady Anya."

     "Krysa." She sneers at him. Any trace of ladylike etiquette vanished the moment he appeared in her line of sight. All her years of meticulous training, conditioning, all the lessons in politeness her governesses drilled into her simply evaporate.

     Anya is certain her mother would faint to see her behaving like this, and towards one of their great nation's princes? She'd never live it down.

     Fortunately, her mother isn't here.

     The noise in the mess hall picks up again now that Nikolai is here, growing to a dull background hum of mindless gossip. Soldiers fill up the open space, milling about as they gather their meagre breakfasts. Dominik sidles up alongside Nikolai carrying two trays of breakfast rations and sits down at Anya's table, offering the girl a polite smile. She grunts at him, grudgingly pushing the remains of her food around her plate with her fork.

     "What could I possibly have done to earn such ire, Nastya?"

     Nikolai's use of her nickname only causes her scowl to deepen. He hovers over her, too close for comfort, bright blue eyes two roguish diamonds glinting down at her.

     He’s teasing her. She knows that. She knows she shouldn’t rise to the bait, but his lip twists and her hands curl into fists before she can stop herself.

     "You know exactly what you did." She turns away, refuses to look at him. She won't give him the satisfaction. Dominik glances between them and, bless him, does his best not to laugh.

     Anya wonders what the sentence would be for murdering a prince of Ravka. Execution, she imagines. But surely it wouldn’t be that severe, would it? He's a second son, spare to the throne, not overly important — and surely he gets on everyone else's nerves as much as he gets on hers.

     Perhaps she'll be made into a national hero for such a patriotic act.

     Even if she's executed, the short period of time between his death and hers will be blissful. And quiet. Right up until she joins him in hell (she knows damn well he's not getting into heaven, and after killing him, neither will she.)

     His chuckle rattles through her as he takes the seat beside Dominik. A girl can dream.

     "What did he do?" Dominik wonders, a curious twinkle in his eyes.

     Anya marks the prince with a stinging glare. "He fed my boots to a goat."

     "In my defence–" Nikolai chokes back a snort, spreading his hands wide. Dominik is quick to move a glass of water out of his reach, lest it be knocked over. "I thought they were my boots."

     Exasperation twists in Anya’s chest. "Why were you feeding your boots to a goat in the first place?"

     He shrugs, unconcerned. "I’d had a little too much kvas, and I thought he looked angry when I stumbled across him trying to make it back to the barracks. Distracting him felt like the best course of action. I didn't know they were your boots, Anya, truly. My sincerest apologies."

     Anya huffs, wriggling her toes inside the too-big pair of spare boots she'd been issued for the foreseeable future. She knows that she'll be feeling the pain of blisters in the coming days, and her frustration with him will only grow. How is it that their commanding officers find him so... charming?

     He has all the charisma of a puppy, all bright pretty eyes and boundless energy. It’s all simply adorable, and you find yourself falling in love — right up until the puppy shits on your pillow.

     But the puppy is sweet and sorry, and you find yourself forgiving any wrongdoings. No wonder they call him sobachka.

     Anya Kamenev never thought she’d want to kick a puppy until she met Nikolai Lantsov.

     “Apologies won’t bring my boots back,” she says, “and when we’ve marched five hundred miles through freezing rain and my blisters have blisters, I will sneak into your tent in the middle of the night, put a chicken in a pillowcase and beat you with it.”

     Nikolai pauses, fork full of food frozen midair. He blinks at her once, twice. “That’s… very descriptive. If I may ask, why the chicken? That seems unnecessarily cruel.”

     “Because a brick would land me in jail.” She rolls her eyes at him. “I never said it was a live chicken. I’ll find a dead one, or I’ll buy one from a butcher. I’m not insane, Lantsov.”

     He raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

     “Do you really want to antagonise me right now?” She kicks him beneath the table, hard enough to bruise. Nikolai hisses between his teeth. His fork drops back onto his plate with a clatter as he reaches down to rub his shin. “I can reconsider the brick, if you’d prefer.”

     “I’d go with a dead fish, if I were you,” says Dominik, grinning around a mouthful of food. “He’ll have to burn his pyjamas to get the smell out.”

     Anya smirks, eyes darting between Dominik and the prince. Nikolai’s mouth is agape as he stares at his friend. “I’ll take it under advisement,” she says with a decisive nod.

     An incredulous laugh bubbles up from Nikolai’s throat. He gives Dominik a shove. “Traitor!”

     “What can I say?” Dominik grins. “I like her odds.”

[actiasteeth]

ASKBOX MEME 053 / SLEEP TOKEN'S TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN

All prompts taken from Sleep Token’s 2023 album, Take Me Back To Eden. Adjust as needed.

"When we were made, it was no accident."

"It's all the same to me, it makes no difference."

"You've got me in a chokehold."

"Even if it hurts me. Even if I can't sleep. Show me the way."

"Take me past the edge."

"I want to see the other side."

"Won't you show me what it's like?"

"My love, did I mistake you for a sign from god?"

"These days, I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man."

"You won't ever have to talk about it."

"You'll never wanna talk about it."

"You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet."

"I see you go half-blind when you're looking at me."

"You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave."

"You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need. But I am."

"You sit there, acting like you know me, acting like you only brought me here to get below me."

"We'd rather be six feet under than be lonely."

"If you had a problem, then you should have told me."

"I can't get enough."

"You have become the voice in my head."

"Are you in pain like I am?"

"I wanna go where nobody else will ever go."

"There is always something in the way."

"I wanna have you to myself for once."

"I know what you want from me."

"So you take what you want and leave."

"Who made you like this?"

"Show me what you are; I am desperate to know."

"Anything's better than the way I feel right now."

"Be the first to the feast, let's choke on the past."

"You want the same as me."

"I'll take what I want then leave."

"You make me wish I could disappear."

"I could see it in you even then."

"I was trying to hold back the darkness."

"Are you really okay?"

"I can see it in you even now."

"I want to help you but I don't know how."

"I cannot fix your wounds this time."

"I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine."

"Please don't hurt yourself again."

"I know that you will disappear."

"I believe somewhere in the past, something was between you and I, my dear."

"It remains with me to this day."

"No matter what I do, this scar will never fade."

"No matter what I do, this wound will never heal."

"Just let me go or take me with you."

"Is it always the same?"

"Do you wish that you loved me?"

"Are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?"

"Can you ever forgive yourself?"

"I would turn into a stranger in an instant if I could."

"There is something eating me alive—I don't know what it is."

"Maybe not that you conceal your feelings, they just don't exist."

"It's getting harder to be myself."

"Is it better to just not feel?"

"It's been so long that I'm forgetting what it feels like."

"I'd rather not remind myself and leave it all behind."

"I've tried so hard to fix it all, but nothing seems to help."

"I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself."

"I don't wanna get in your way."

"The vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me."

"Touch me again."

"You get what you give, you reap what you sow."

"I can see you in my fate."

"When I open my eyes to the future, I can hear you say my name."

"I will travel far beyond the path of reason."

"I need you to see me for what I have become."

"You know my desire."

"No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence."

"I have traveled far beyond the path of reason."

"Call me when you get the chance."

"Call me when you have the time."

"I just need to leave this part of me behind."

"Do you remember me when the rain gathers?"

"Do you still believe that nothing else matters?"

"The night belongs to you."

[sygneth]

breaks into your house and lays down in your askbox listen I spend a LOT of time imagining the fic where a person who somehow knows what ADHD is (either through isekai or being from A Distant Land I Just Made Up [Germany]) reads or hears about Holmes's whole deal and in a fury of commiseration SLAMS open the door to 221b and goes MR HOLMES I HAVE SO MUCH UNSOLICITED AND COMPLETELY UNLICENSED MEDICAL ADVICE FOR YOU

sidenote in this theoretical fic the person in question almost tells Holmes what ADHD stands for, realizes that Holmes will never fuckening believe that he has a condition called attention deficit, and calls it attention dysregulation instead

PLASE please yes, somebody ANYBODY tell him

Holmes Slowly Unpacking His Unonscious Trauma Of Growing Up As A Neurodivergent Person In Victorian Society is what i'm living for too

[inhuman-obey-me]

this may not be exactly your kinda thing, but i'll throw this in your askbox just in case, for the 2.7k+ follower event~

may i have,,, 🌚 but with mc as the focus, and satan in the background. i just want... mc getting. a littol angwy. a littol evil.

satan is so proud of you but you - you can't believe you did this, this is crazy, no, really - but he insists, it's fine, it's fine...

come on now, you didn't expect to make pacts with seven demons and come out unscathed, did you?

Apologies for how late this is!!! Thank you for your patience. :')

Now, this isn't quite your request, only in that we like to write MCs that are open to the darker side of things...but hopefully this still kinda works for what you were looking for!

"I want to release the darkest side of me." - Satan/MC

You hadn’t meant for it to go this far. 

That’s what you keep telling yourself, fingers curled inward so tightly that nails dig into the skin of your palms. You can still feel it – the power that lies just beneath your skin, the power that has sunk deep into your bones. So easily can it rip through the sinews, so easily can you be consumed. 

It was a skill you had to learn, this control. You were no mere human, after all, but a sorcerer powerful enough to rival and even surpass Solomon the Wise himself. A human who had quite remarkably made pacts with the seven rulers of Hell, seven of the most powerful creatures in existence. A human who, with one simple command, could bring all seven of them to their knees at once – all without breaking a sweat. 

So why did these lesser demons think they could best you? Taunt you? Harm you? 

Foolish bastards, you think. Pathetic.  

And this wrath, fire at your fingertips, is a rage that brings out its Avatar’s sharp and menacing grin as he watches you from the shadows. Eyes of viridian glowing in delight, he slowly brings himself to your side, steps echoing against stone. 

“Well, MC. That was quite a show. I didn’t even need to step in.” He whispers into your ear, hovering just over your shoulder. “...How are you feeling?” 

“Fantastic.” The word slips through your lips without second thought. “I didn’t even realize you were here.”

“Oh, I only showed up a few moments ago. I felt a strong emotional pull through our pact and thought you might be in danger – but obviously, you handled yourself quite well.” He surveys the scene before you with a hum of approval. There, amid broken furniture and ash-covered walls, were the mangled bodies of three demons. Not quite dead, but a far cry from good health. 

“I’m…not quite sure what happened.” It starts to dissipate, that flame and fury that had set your chest ablaze. “The rage just took over at one point and I couldn’t help but use my magic to get them to leave me alone.” You close your eyes, telling yourself to breathe. “All I could think about was wiping those smiles off of their faces and breaking their hands for trying to touch me.” 

“And you’ve done just that. An excellent job, I have to say.” He cannot hide the glee in his voice, the satisfaction he gets from feeding off of your wrathful outburst. But then, his smile falters. “...Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine, I think.” Slowly opening your eyes, you look down at your hands. Traces of blood and soot cover your skin. “You know, it’s been strange, ever since I’ve unlocked my magical ability and learned to tap into my power. Your power.” Flexing your fingers, you turn to fix your gaze on Satan. “It’s been overwhelming, having to learn so much in such a short amount of time. And there are times I want to release the darkest side of me, all of the parts of me I’ve forced deep down inside to be a good person, a good human. It’s tempting. To just … let go.”

“You’re in the Devildom, love.” Satan smirks, bringing himself to stand in front of you. A hand goes to cup your chin, his gaze intense as he looks deep into your eyes. “You’re allowed to let go sometimes. I encourage you to.”

“Well, of course you do.” A lighthearted scoff, you slightly shake your head with a smile. “But, how the hell am I going to explain this to Diavolo?”

“You won’t.” Satan places a light kiss on your cheek before releasing your jaw. Now with an arm around you, he leads you out of the room with a smug grin, throwing one last glance to your victims with delight. 

“Leave it all to me.”

[kyouka-supremacy]

Ok here's how Atsushi can still get major character development via shin soukoku. Akutagawa is attacking Atsushi, but stops because he's becoming aware of himself. He's standing still, then looks up and his eyes are normal again. Atsushi smiles in relief, but then sees Fukuzawa is right behind Akutagawa, swinging his blade to get rid of his "defective tool."

And then its like slow motion, and we see Atsushi's thoughts as he moves forward, along the lines of, "Ah. I get it, now. Why Akutagawa saved me." He pushes Akutagawa down and away from Fukuzawa, but doesn't have enough time to dodge for himself. Atsushi's thoughts come up again, "I didn't realize it until now. That I really-" and then we see a large blood splatter on the ground, Akutagawa's horrified face, and Aya's screams cover the rest of the page.

(In my little scenario, we see the shadow of Atsushi's body without a head, calling back to Fukuzawa's comment in chapter 83.5. Akutagawa then violently kills Fukuzawa in blind rage and grief, stabbing through him a bunch like he did to Margaret but a lot more gorey. Then we see Tanizaki emerge holding Atsushi, alive, and the illusion of Atsushi's dead body disappears).

Sskk can still win i swear (smiling through the tears)

I'm proposing

This was such a ride oh my God. I swear to you there's NOTHING ///NOTHING/// better than the feeling of opening the askbox to an ask starting per “Ok here's how Atsushi can still get major character development via shin soukoku” followed by long text. I could get addicted to this.

“I didn't realize it until now. That I really-” is the new “You know the reason yourself don't you”. Like, it's just perfect in everything. You can't imagine how much I'd ADORE to have Atsushi return the favour and sacrifice himself for Akutagwa!!!! Like seriously peoples listen to me. Sskk is ALL about mirroring each other and story repeating itself and I NEED THIS FROM ATSUSHI. I need this growth for him I need Akutagawa to have changed him just as deeply and thoroughly as Atsushi changed Akutagawa. I need Atsushi to save Akutagawa I need Atsushi to require his love I need the circular narrative I NEED THEM. Like Atsushi looking up AND recognizing Akutagawa’s eyes AND smiling? The whole thing about him looking at Akutagawa's eyes and seeing Akutagawa in them - his Akutagawa - and that eliciting pure joy in Atsushi. The fact that Akutagawa is now okay and he can feel him by his side again and can feel his warmth and knows that he's okay. Atsushi being relieved beyond words for Akutagawa being safe. I’m so weak for them I’m going to faint. But seriously all theories aside after this I NEED Akutagawa to snap out of the vampire curse due to the power of love. I’m sorry, peoples' too good theories for my own good set my bar too high and now I need them to make out on screen by the end of this arc otherwise I'll die.

You’re right about everything I swear.  Akutagawa's horrified face I SWEAR it's such a relevant, precious? side of how his feelings for Atsushi effect him, how they make him experience a range of emotions - terror and care and dread and love and horror – that he //literally// never experienced before. And Akutagawa killing Fukuchi on the spot after he thinks Atsushi is dead- just, yes. As a side note, that’s exactly how the Beast version of chapters 84-88 would play out for me. Akutagawa's fury for losing Atsushi... The thing is, one would think that Akutagawa's death is tragic, but I believe that for him having to live in a world without Atsushi would be a way crueler fate. And it would be… kind of meaningful to bring a Tanizaki produced dead Atsushi illusion to the equation, as it would make a nice parallel to him doing it in chapter 4; a recall to how much Akutagawa has grown since then, from causing harm to Atsushi and trying to kill him, to being so inconsolably upset by his death he'd completely lose control and kill someone else for him. And this is the same “I'll kill you in six months” guy. What a loser

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PROMPTS they give me life please don't stop

[shadowkoo]

mini requests

open | CLOSED

Hi! I'm opening my requests for the first time in nearly three years! I'm hoping by doing this sort of drabble game / mini fic requests that I can ease my way back into writing after my long hiatus. If you are interested in sending in a request, please continue reading for all the details. Thank you!

Rules + Requirements :

Follow me (if you are not already)

Reblog this post (boosts are appreciated)

Must be 18+ (minors please dni)

To Request:

Choose a group & member (1 only please)

Pick a genre (max of 3)

Select a prompt (max of 2)

Visit my askbox and use a similar format like this: "Can I request Taehyung (BTS) fluff, smut, and coworkers au with prompt #4"

*please make sure that you include the group in parenthesis after stating which member you're requesting

Groups + Members:

BTS - Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook

EXO - Kai, Baekhyun, Sehun, Chanyeol, Chen, Suho, Kyungsoo, Xiumin, Lay

NCT - Taeyong, Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Ten, Winwin, Kun, Jungwoo, Mark, Xiaojun, Hendery, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Yangyang, Jisung

SVT - Vernon, Mingyu, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Woozi, Joshua, Hoshi, Junhui, Seokmin, Seungcheol

GOT7 - Jinyoung, Jackson, Bam, Yugyeom, Mark, Jaebeom, Youngjae

ATEEZ - Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho

MONSTA X - Shownu, Minhyuk, Kihyun, Hyungwon, Jooheon, Changkyun

STRAY KIDS - Bang Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

Genres + AUs:

Fluff

Smut

Angst

Enemies to lovers

Friends to lovers

Friends with benefits

Roommates

College

Coworkers

Meet Cute

Meet Ugly

Athlete (you may specify in your request)

Exes

Idol

*idol au means that they will be depicted as their real identities (as actual kpop idols & famous celebrities)

Prompts:

"Don't look at me like that. You know what that does to me."

"I wish I never met you."

"It's your lucky day."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Open your mouth."

"Why do you even care?"

"You're more important than you think."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Please leave."

"That's my final answer."

"Did you see that?" "See what?"

"What do you want from me?"

"God, you look so fucking good."

"You're unbelievable."

"Isn't that your mom?"

"I swear I've seen your face somewhere before."

"You're such a tease."

"Don't you dare lie to me."

"Who are the flowers for?"

"Don't forget that we're in public, baby."

"Are you scared? You should be."

"Please say something. Anything."

"Do you forgive me?"

"You forgot."

"You're crazy and I like it."

"Where are you taking me?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

"I need you. Now."

"What did you say?"

"Did you miss me?"

"I dare you."

"I bought you something."

"Is it supposed to taste like that?"

"Ew. Why does it look like that?"

"Baby are you close?" "No but the Uber is."

"How many doughnuts can I stack on it?"

"This is why no one likes you."

"Put your dick away, this is a Lowe's."

"Stop yelling at me!" "You’re panicking, you’ll crash the car." "It’s not everyday a demon crawls out of your trunk!"

"Who the fuck did I marry?"

This is the fifth letter you will write to them, and it will not be the last.

Six days after they left, the ticking behind the wall began.

A mob boss with a black eye and a jagged scar over his wrist sits alone in a dingy motel room. The kitten stares at him affectionately, oblivious to the danger they both are in. Oblivious to the mess it caused.

It happened concurrently, and so quickly. The moon started getting closer and brighter in the sky, and you started hearing them in the radio static.

With a palpable fury, the demon turns to you, ignoring the rubble of your kitchen, and sneers. "How did you summon me? You've pulled me out of chains centuries old." Frantically, you skim through your cookbook. "I don't know! I was trying to make soup!"

They held out a hand, an echo of the melody playing from their fingertips. "The world seems to dance to your tune," they spoke, their voice a captivating blend of amusement and intrigue. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken questions.

Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.

Chills creep down your spine as you peek through the cracked doorway. You're not supposed to be witnessing this. They'll kill you if they find out.

Free Space - send in your own prompt! Please keep it relatively short!

Disclaimers:

Not every request may be fulfilled, it is up to my discretion.

Word count may vary between requests (300 to 3k, etc.).

Unless requested otherwise, all fics will be written as female reader insert.

Please refer to the top of the original post to know whether requests are open or closed (reblogs may show something different).

Things I will NOT write: suicide, self-harm, animal abuse, underage sex, pedophilia, incest, vore, rape, non-consensual, or dubious sex.

[the-starry-seas]

So I guess it's as good a time as any to have a pinned post?

Hi, I'm Sticks! I use vae/vaer/vaers/vaerself and it/its pronouns. This is a multifandom blog with a dash of many other random things. I'm a proshipper, cloneshipper, multishipper, and polyshipper.

I'll tag things to the best of my ability if you ask. Sometimes I'll forget. I love being tagged in ask games, WIP games, last line challenges, literally whatever. Mutuals can DM for my discord.

You can check out my fics on AO3 at lizardwrites (Star Wars) or purpleturtle9000 (Rise/Bayverse TMNT). Or check the tag for sticks' fics to see drabbles and previews. My askbox is open for requests for more drabbles, headcanons, and general rambling.

Consider this a blanket permission for any and all transformative works of my writing. You may post translated versions of my fics on other sites but you may not repost the original work. And please show me what you've made!

I have a lot of OCs and I love talking about them. I also want to hear all about yours! In the meantime, there's a list of mine below the cut. tumblr wouldn't let me link all of them, but you can try copy-pasting the-starry-seas.tumblr.com/tagged/ and put in the character name (I tag with ranks, so put in CT Racer instead of just Racer).

The Murderbot Diaries:

Jude (she/they rogue SecUnit)

ROTTMNT:

Kestrel

Star Wars:

212th Squad (Boot, Mik, Squeaker, Moxie, Onion, Crumpet)

Aces Squad (CT Racer, CT Fury, CS Blue, CT Whisper, CT Ember)

B Roll, all-girls clone squad formed of Bark, Bite, Bumble, and Bee

Clone Force M (CT Winter, CT Bee, CT Indigo, CT Jewel, CC Nebula, CT Zenith, CT Sunny, CT Star, CT Sky, CT Silver)

Ghost Squad (CL Harlow, CS Karla, CT Shay, CT Cavalry, CT Boom, CT Ray, CT Nox, CT Tally)

Green Squad (formerly) now civilians Aralyn, Berry, and Prey Drive

Royal Squad, five tubies adopted by the royal family in a nobody-dies Bail/Breha/Fox AU (Bug, Jaonyc, Yancy, Helio, Vidal)

Shili Squad (Chen Nihaan, Alyx, Bella, Corvin, Watcher, Atlas, Ginger, Circuit, and Synch)

Shiny Squad: Kit's batchmates CT Lucky, CT Shrike, and CT Carno

Grafitti & Rence of the Corrie Guard

Kit also of the Corrie Guard and Fox's shiny/adopted son

Prim Fett (clone, Mandalorian, and adopted daughter of Boba)

Riye Verda (Kamino-cloned, Mandalorian-raised)

Switch (clone, reconditioned, cyborg, mercenary)

Kryndi (florist and Kit's girlfriend in the royal OT3 AU)

Cathedi (Jedi)

Xerin (Jedi)

Clan Merit, composed of Quin, Aya, and Amery (Mandalorians)

Mirshko (Mandalorian)

Torrak Varkus and Torrak Vermil (Mandalorian)

Vinir (Mandalorian)

Soruli and Seryla (Nautolan Jedi and Force-sensitive smuggler)

A'Hidayat (Tusken)

U'Rajya (Tusken)

Tusken OC umbrella tag

Ripper (Yautja in Star Wars)

Valkyries (all-women pirate crew-slash-polycule)

CC Kamor, Eixes Judarri, and Padawan Rivi from the Better or Worse AU, where a clone captain finds and adopts his general's padawan, with the help of the Zabrak smuggler who becomes his queerplatonic partner

Chen Xunielah, a Togruta ambassador and duchess, and her clone husband Chen Nihaan, who form the Chen family with their kids

Transformers:

Button

Chromeblaze

Demoiselle

Goldshot

Neutrobolt & Nitroblitz

Nightflash

Stormbrake

Voltcast

Various:

Rowan

[fiddles-ifs]

I'm stealing this ask from another blog I saw, asking for Greenwarden and any other of your IFs you wanna do. Which of the ROs would want to take the MC's last name if they were married? Would any want the MC to take their last name?

Oooo, fun question!

Would take your last name:

Bautista, Trace (has no last name), Lisandro (probably couldn't because of The Feudalism)

Would hyphenate:

Bautista (again), Nazeri, Devin, Mattie

Would keep their last name but you don't have to take theirs:

Bautista (x3), Devin, Lisandro, Idali, Lane, Mattie

Would love it if you took their last name:

Devin, Nazeri, Idali, Tesias, Lane, Mattie

[prodijedi-archive]

@oflightsbeam      sent         …       hc + 👪 for a family-themed headcanon

╰► SOURCE: Thematic Headcanons / ALWAYS ACCEPTING

It is well-established in canonical content that the Jedi Order are one large found family, and this remains true even for Dooku. In his childhood friend Sifo-Dyas, Dooku found a BROTHER IN ALL BUT BLOOD who remained at his side through thick and thin right up until he was ultimately slain by Dooku’s own hand as part of his journey to become Darth Tyranus. In Master Yaddle Dooku found a MOTHER FIGURE upon whom he could rely even in his darkest hours; however, she too was killed by him. In Master Yoda Dooku found many things, but most importantly, he found within his mentor THE FATHER HE NEVER HAD.

Expressing this fact proved difficult due to Dooku’s immense pride, but there still would be occasions where he would SLIP UP and make the sentiment known. Oftentimes, these slip ups took the form of inadverently replicating Yoda’s speech pattern whilst in casual conversation or addressing him by familial nicknames such as Pa. The latter would also happen with Yaddle, whom he has accidentally called Ma on more than one occasion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Engaging in either habit always left the younger Dooku utterly mortified, leading to profuse apologies and deep-seated embarrassment. He grows much more comfortable with expressing his affection for Yoda upon his redemption, and actively refers to the wise old sage as his father figure after his return to the Jedi Order.

[shockensemble]

—Intro / Pinned! 📌

howdy hey! welcome to our humble little theater! we're the SHOCK! Ensemble (also known as the rat squad and the Planetarium Pantheon), a mixed origin (possibly) OSDD-1b system of 20+ theatrical ratties that decided to get a tumblr blog.

we collectively respond to Ei, and go by any pronouns; but if you know about us and who we are besides our host, we use our individual pronouns and names! we also use i/me and we/us interchangeably!

in terms of carrd... we have no carrd yet. but fear not! we're working as fast as we can to have it up! you'll get to know about us in more detail eventually ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ (HURRY UP EI -rin)

‼WE RESPECT ALL ORIGINS HERE‼ everyone deserves a chance at figuring themselves out, and making sense of their individual experiences. we are all doing our best out here! (unless you're a fakeclaimer, which we kindly ask to leave us alone!)

feel free to ask us anything!! our askbox is open and we love to talk nwn)!

interests you may see here, headmate/alter list/calls and more underneath the cut!!

-; ༉‧₊˚✧user boxes credits

x | x

-; ༉‧₊˚✧interests (not all of them tho, just our main interests!)

anime + manga (ask about our favs!), pokemon, league of legends, rain world, project moon, persona, genshin, vocaloid + prosekai, vtubers, j-rock + j-pop (and other banger music we enjoy), sea creatures, art and writing

-; ༉‧₊˚✧ensemble (alter/headmate) list / calls!

—collective system tag/call: the ensemble [🐀🎭]*

*note: if a post has no tag, the author simply did not want to tag the post and/or it's a post made by some of us collectively

main fronters:

—Ei [🌙🐏] - any prns - 22 (body age)

—Critter [☄️🦊] - they/them - ageless

—Kuma [🐻🔆] - he/him - 25

—Rin [🍊🐈‍⬛] - she/he - 20-22

—Len [🍌🐈] - he/him - 20-22

—Yukisada [🪶❄] - he/they - 29

—Mirai [🌀🎐] - he/they - (physically) 27

—Mio [🎏🦀] - he/they - 25

—Emil [🐣🌸] - he/they - early 20s

—Donny (Don) [🎠🪻] - she/he/they - early 20s

other ensemble members you'll see here:

—Tristana (Trist) [💥💣] - she/they/he - (physically) young adult

—Nunu [🪈🧊] - he/him - 12

—Willump [🌨🎶] - he/they/it - (mentally) 15

(note: you'll never see neither of them alone! and please do not discuss anything 18+ with them -Kuma)

—Riven (Rivulet / Ruffles / Riv) [🫧🌊] - any prns + it - young adult

—Goro (Gojira / Goji) [🔋🦖] - he/him - (physically) 48

—Furina (Furi) [⛲🦁] - she/her - (physically) 26

—Neuvilette (Neuvi) [⚖💠] - he/him - (physically) 32

—Nahida (Nahi) [🍀🌐] - she/it - (physically) young child

(note 2: she's hundreds of years old and extremely wise and mature but please do not discuss anything 18+ with her either, it makes her uncomfy -Kuma)

—Aurelius [🌌🐉] - he/it/they - (physically) late 30s

—Olivier (Oli) [🔮📚] - he/him - (physically) late 30s

—Casper (Cas) [💀🌒] - he/him - (physically) late 20s

—Akiren (Akira / Aki) [🃏🚬] - he/they - 28

-; ༉‧₊˚✧other stuff!

⚠BASIC DNI CRITERIA!⚠

we're friendly and love meeting people (systems and singlets alike!), but please keep in mind that aside from our host (Ei), most of us have wildly varying social energy levels. don't be afraid to ask who's around if you talk to us in DMs, tho!

we prefer tupperbox over pluralkit and simplyplural (we are too dumb to figure out the interfaces/commands so we gave up lmao -rin)

thank you for reaching the end of the intro post! here, have some candy as a token of our gratitude! 🍬

[excalibutt]

Hello! List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers :D

in no particular order...

The feeling of being enthralled by a City at night. When you're out a little later than you intended to be, and even if you're alone—you're surrounded by the mellow but joyful thrum of people in your peripheral. It's dark, but you're awake, and alive. When you breathe in—you breathe in a little hint of hedonism. A simple little gift from the great body of the City that surrounds you. A gentle 'I love you' dancing on the tip of your tongue. A soft whisper of belonging, tingling the shell of your ear, because even if you cannot see someone—you know you're not the only one awake.

Unsolicited affection. The joy of someone who seeks you out simply out of fondness. Someone who sends you things either out of sheer joy for the subject matter or because they were reminded of you. A brush of the hand, a kiss to the temple, and shoulder touch. Remembering how you like your coffee or your tea. The slow-blinking cat, the dog that can't stop wiggling. Someone who seeks you because they feel you are alike, you are kin, because they LIKE you. You, in whatever way, are wanted. You are loved, even if it always surprises you.

Strange Art. The bizarre. The mind-boggling. The repulsive. The vivid. The symbolic. The fury of a staring at a canvas of a singular color, only to realize that you see no brush-strokes, and that this hue had never been captured before to such a scale. The monsters. The Metaphors. The imagery that sticks behind your eyeballs and waits for you when you close them and breathe. The surreal. The strange. The silly. The ugly. The challenging. The cringe. The camp. The refutation and condemnation of laws we take for granted. Pure, unbridled confusion. I want something that makes my eyes buzz with excitement, and something that breaks my heart.

Green. From the Douglas Fir to the Weeping Willow, to the grass-sedges, herbs, and weeds. Give me mint, give me matcha, give me a sickly wicked-neon glow. Give me malachite and emerald, give me houseplants, frogs, tortoise and cacti, give me kiwis, grapes, gardens. Give me swamps and lakes and snakes and rivers... give me glass... give me life. Give me green.

Study. Every single day I learn something new. I walk along broken concrete and I see a hundred crows all lighting around me, giving life and complex society to a gray and industrial place. I learn their behaviors, I study plants. I read, I write, I make. I open my eyes and see the mist settling over a distant hill, shrouding spires—and feel my heart melt at the beauty of it. I get to breathe, see, smell, hear and touch this place and become part of it. I get to experience the ephemeral and abstract as much as the physical and tangible. I can read stories of people long past, and I can feel their joy as vividly as my own when I read their words. There is joy in education... the easy-wonder and nostalgia of childhood remains within reach.