#heh I get that fairly often actually!

[canisalbus]

for the longest while i thought your dogs were lesbians for some reason

something something anthro-androgeny

.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

“Did you sleep well? Don’t lie to me, I watched you.”

¡Yandere!Dark Raiden mk11

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy. I’m sorry I haven’t ever written Raiden and so if it’s a little off…no it isn’t. Lollll I’m going to replay mk11 so I can get more into his character. But there’s a serious lack of mk11 Raiden fics??? Like what is going awn??? Y’all don’t like granddaddy??

Warnings: Yandere/Toxic themes, mentions of kidnapping, violence, threats, sleep watching…

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Raiden isn't someone who finds himself resting much of his own. There’s too many things that he has to attend to and so much of his time would be wasted if he slept most nights.

Besides who would watch over earthrealm and you if he was fast asleep…

Actually he just prefers to watch over you at night. Someone else can handle the latter but..you are far too precious for him to not protect.

Usually he’ll wait a few hours or so after you’ve finally dozed off. Giving you plenty of time to drift into a deep slumber so you cannot be disturbed by him, creeping into your bedroom.

It’s fairly enjoyable for Raiden to watch you rest. You are a very delightful sleeper. You don’t often move around or snore much. When you do make noise it is usually a sweet mummer or giggle.

It’s a huge contrast to during the day when you would be by his side. You were a very timid person and rather fidgety. Raiden understands just how intimidating he can be, but he had hoped you’d come around to it. That you’d understand his demeanor wasn’t personal against you.

He craves your affection and he’s seen how you truly are with others. He doesn’t mind your real personality, any more than the next man would. So if you’re worried he may think lowly of you for being energetic, he won’t. On top of that, he just doesn’t know how to be more inviting.

He absolutely despised how comfortable you were with other people compared to him. You’re not even this shy with his brother, Fujin.

Eventually Raiden had enough of it and decided to forcefully make you comfortable with him. No longer are you allowed out of his home or to socialize outside of him.

(Yeah that made you waaayy more comfortable 🙄)

He now has you all to himself and no one else has the right to your smile anymore.

Unfortunately though the only times you smile at now is when you are fast asleep, dreaming up your own perfect world.

Raiden didn’t mind this too much, it was enough for him just to watch over you. A little while longer and he’s sure you’ll get used to him.

The only thing that could make this any better is if he had the ability to see into your dreams.

What exactly were you dreaming of? Him? Tonight you seemed to smile more than usual, so delusionally he figured it had to be about him. Or maybe you’re thinking of the children you’ll have with the thunder lord.

He almost chuckled to himself as he proudly pondered the idea of the two of you teaching your children how to safely wield their powers. How cute it would be when they'd play tricks on you, of course he’d scold them but it would be kind of cute…

Before he could go any further into thought, your beautiful voice broke the silence—

“Heh…I wish we could have fun like this all the time..”

Could you read his mind? Were you dreaming about what he was thinking of?

The lord, becoming increasingly more intrigued by your dream, leaned in closer. Hoping for you to speak once more..hoping that it was true.

It would be just the confirmation he needed. You dreamt about a life with him, which means all of this was the right choice. You’re finally coming around sooner than he’d previously thought.

“Mmm..Johnny~”

What did you just say..?

Is that why you’re so happy tonight? It’s because of that imbecile??

Hearing you flirtatiously coo the other man’s name ‘Johnny’ was like poison to Raiden’s ears. Something sinister entered his body and before he knew it a fierce thunderstorm of emotions began to brew deep in his veins. Electric red currents started circulating his body as he stood up and towered over you. He tightened his balled fists until his knuckles grew pale white. With a tense jaw and a scowl that omitted a pure crimson color, he remained still. Not wanting to act out just yet in the height of his anger.

As much as Raiden was furious, he was also a devastated lover. You’ve betrayed him. He’s given you so much of himself only for another to occupy your mind…do you know just how much he’s put aside for you?? He’d risk all of earthrealm if it meant an eternity with you.

How DARE you…you will be punished for this. There was no way that Raiden would ever let these trifling feelings go without such.

And for that Johnny…..”Cage volume iii” isn’t going to be coming out anytime soon…

It was as if you could suddenly sense the shift of energy in the room. The warm, cheeky smile ran cold and a bolt of terror struck your core.

Tossing and turning, trying to get away from the darkness that started to overwhelm the dream, you cried out.

“….j-johnny…please help me. He’s going to find me and take me away. Please- that monster is going to get me—”

Jolting up in a cold sweat, your heart sank deeper into your chest after you noticed the narrow, crimson eyes above you.

Frantically you began to speak..

“R-Raiden?! What are—-“

“Did you sleep well? Don’t you even think about lying to me, I watched you.”

Raiden’s voice is as low as it was venomously commanding.

A beat, which felt like years, passed as you mustered up an answer to him. You were currently still too tired and distraught to even know what exactly pissed off Raiden.

“…I-I’m sorry Lord Raiden but I don’t really know what’s going on—“

“BE SILENT, Y/N!.” Raiden’s voice boomed throughout the entire tower, followed by a rumbling of thunder from outside.

From what was just a minute ago, a nice cool night turned into a heavy thunderstorm with heavy winds.

“You think of me as some kind of monster?!…” Raiden scoffed, his once balled fist turned into a sharp point of the finger.

“I understand that your feeble, human mind cannot even comprehend all of the things that I’ve been protecting you from…all of the devotion I’ve dedicated to you. But for you to blatantly disrespect your master is something I never expected from you.”

“ You’ve committed such disgusting sins….you need to be cleansed.”

“Wha- Raiden? I-I don’t understand. What did I do?.” Your eyes began to swell with tears and your voice became an unsteady mess

Raiden sneered down at you.

“Hmhp. Your pleas will not save you, my love. When I’m done with you, Johnny’s name will be scrapped from your memory and you will learn how to become properly devoted to me….and only ME.”

[petrichor-idyllic]

Heyyy do you do reacts? Like "How the TMR boys would react to you calling them pretty" . If so, thank youuu :)

Oooo I never even thought about doing this, but I can absolutely give it a go :))

YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Gender neutral reader.

WARNINGS: None really, maybe some inappropriate language and flirty behaviour.

"You know, you're actually kinda pretty."

THOMAS

Would not know how to react.

Thomas absolutely would be completely dumbfounded.

He'd been attracted to you ever since he'd arrived in the Glade, so you complimenting him would leave him in a stunned state.

Probably would also be the first and only time he gets complimented because the Gladers just call each other ugly on a daily basis.

"Oh, uh- thanks- thank you."

You probably wouldn't think much of it and go about your day.

He would spend the next four years thinking about it.

"They think I'm pretty."

Definitely a much needed confidence boost since he (especially in the books) is having a permanent identity crisis.

He might not know who he is, but damn, at least he's pretty.

NEWT

Newt isn't a stranger to compliments. He's one of the oldest standing Gladers and people often comment on his work ethic and ability to think fast.

His appearance though?

That's new.

He'd probably freeze, laughing it off as you just kinda randomly say it whilst he's working with the Track-hoes.

"Heh, what?"

In all honesty, you'd have been watching him for a while, admiring his features and when you say it, it would have been a thought you didn't mean to say out loud more than anything.

That wouldn't stop him from thinking about it. It would get brushed over fairly quickly since Newt is a busy dude, but he would definitely ask Minho and his friends about it.

"What do you think it means?

"Uh, that they think you're pretty? Duh."

Like Thomas, he would probably lie awake thinking about it, or just throughout his day, a soft smile playing on his lips, and he would definitely get caught laughing.

"Dude, you're thinking about it again?"

"Shut up, slinthead!"

"Touched a nerve, pretty boy?"

MINHO

Minho knows he's pretty. Everyone knows he's pretty. Just look at the guy. Even Thomas thinks he's pretty (*cough* the three paragraphs dedicated to describing Minho's arms in the book *cough*).

He'd probably laugh.

Sure, it's common knowledge that he's a good looking guy, but for someone to say it to him?

That'd be entertaining.

He'd tease you about it, making you the one that becomes a blushing mess.

"Hey, so how pretty do you think I am, exactly?"

He would not let it go.

But he wouldn't brag to the other Gladers about it. He would keep the information to himself, mainly keeping up the light bullying in private and leaving other Gladers confused as to why you tended to leave his presence bright red.

Secretly, he'd be thrilled. Of course, just that you think he's attractive to begin with, but also because it clearly runs deeper at your constant embarrassment.

He probably also wouldn't know how else to flirt with you. But he's trying his best. Compliments don't come as easy to him as they do you, so this is how he expresses it.

Definitely an ego boost.

GALLY

He would be insulted.

Gally wouldn't take it as a compliment at first. He wants to be a tough guy and you calling him pretty feels like a insult to his masculinity.

Definitely not the intention.

You think he's soft? Pretty? How dare you. How could you?

It wouldn't be until he spoke to Frypan that he'd realise.

"They called me pretty. Pretty! Do I look like a shuckin' sissy?"

"Dude, I'm pretty sure it was a compliment- they think you're hot."

"Oh."

That's when he'd be flustered.

In private, of course, but flustered nonetheless.

He'd feel like such a dick for reacting how he did and without even processing it properly.

He'd end up apologising and you'd laugh about it.

"It's okay, I won't call you pretty again. Promise."

But now he knows you think he's attractive, he'd definitely be bummed that you said you wouldn't compliment him like that again.

"I mean- you can still... yanno- say that."

Turns out Gally actually kinda is a softie when he wants to be.

You find it cute.

FRYPAN

He would be ecstatic.

Oh my God, you think he's pretty? His life is complete. The world is good. Kill him now, this is the best day of his life.

He'd tell everyone who would listen.

"Yeah! They called me pretty! Suck it! I'm prettier than you slintheads!"

"Fry, I really don't care."

He'd constantly ask you to call him pretty again. Or even other compliments and you'd find it funny.

He'd be surprising hard to fluster, but very easy to please.

It wouldn't be uncommon to find him grinning from ear to ear after talking to you.

He would also have the courage to return the compliments, creating a friendship that's basically filled with constant praise.

He would worship the ground you walk on.

Thinks he's in love every time you make eye contact.

ALBY

"Yeah, okay."

Alby would not give a shit.

The man is stressed 24/7.

You can't really blame him. He's in charge of a bunch of teenage boys in a Maze full of monsters, and he has to make sure that everyone is comfortable and surviving.

He has too much on his plate to even realise what you'd be saying at first.

The brain lag is real, and it would be three days later when he'd understand what you said.

"Wait a shuckin' second..."

After that, he'd think about it a lot, internally kicking himself and regretting the choice.

You wouldn't be shocked. This is exactly the kind of response you'd expect from the Leader. But you almost said it because you knew what his response would be.

You wouldn't have to worry about Alby being weird or acting different or telling anyone.

Though, he would become a lot friendlier towards you, starting to develop a sweet spot for you.

Would ya look at that, I can actually write for characters other than Minho? Who woulda guessed? In all seriousness, this was really fun and I enjoy writing headcanons as much as I like writing stories. I really enjoy these typa requests, tysm for sending it in.

Hope you all enjoy :))

[velvethopewrites]

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro.  There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate. 

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once.  As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy.  They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow.  Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…”  Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah) 

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

[ya-zz]

hey do you think you can make one with zenyatta where he is trying to hit on you but like he is kinda blank about it? Like,

*he grabs your chin and lifts your head up, he leans in for a kiss which is just a peck pretty much,* zen: did I do good? Y/N: I- uh..yes...heh, yes you did zen. *zen smiles as you lay your head on his robotic shoulder*

KINDA LIKE THAT BUT WHATEVER YOU THINK IS RIGHT I RLLY LIKE YOUR FANFICS!!!!

Apologies it took a little longer, but here we go! Thank you so much for requesting!

One down, 6 to go ♥

Zenyatta x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1321

He liked you. Well, possibly more than liked. Loved? Perhaps. He wasn’t too sure at first. It took him a while to realise his feelings towards you, and when he came to the conclusion that he enjoyed being around you, he wanted you to know. 

“I like you.” He said, face expressionless as always. 

The sudden outburst caught you off guard. “Oh! Well, I like you too, Zen.” You smile at him before continuing cleaning. 

“I enjoy being around you.” 

“So do I.” 

It was an exchange that meant a friendly something to you, more so to Zenyatta who had a giddy feeling coursing through his chassis. You thought of it as a friend exclaiming their fondness, not a confession of love. 

Maybe that was where things got a little awkward between the pair of you. 

Zenyatta would be around you more often, and of course, you didn’t mind, yet as the days went by, you’d noticed him not being himself. Shaking off that feeling, you’d continue to do your daily tasks, cleaning, laundry and the sort, making sure everything was in its place before the end of the day. 

Your omnic friend would “brush” past you, hands knocking into yours as he exclaimed a somewhat unapologetic apology, like he meant to push himself into you. It would catch you off guard, a slight embarrassment running through your veins as your cheeks grew warm. 

As the days went by, the flirting from Zenyatta continued, and thats when you came to the realisation that he may have misunderstood you the other day; but that was then, and this was now. You had grown to enjoy the flirty omnic, sometimes jesting with him, arms clashing against his as you’d laugh along with him. 

Soon enough, as emotions rose within you and the omnic, things got a little more personal. More touching, more moments together, yet Zenyatta never made a move, seeming to save that first kiss for a special moment. While being alone with him more often than not, every moment with him was great, picture perfect even, yet he refrained from getting too close. 

Something inside of you panicked, making you think it was all for show, that he didn’t actually like you in that way. The hours merged into days of overthinking, wondering if you were just being pulled along. It was hard to tell when you only had an expressionless face, no eyes to look into to confirm or deny those thoughts. While his body language and tone never faltered, it was still hard to tell what exactly he was thinking. 

Omnics were machines, originally incapable of showing much emotion. Made to work, obey orders, whatever their AI was programmed to do. Zenyatta was one of thousands to gain sentiency, one who was able to express his emotions through actions and thoughts. It was, however, still difficult to decipher what he was thinking or what he was trying to convey through his actions.

Despite the inability to show emotions, they had a keen eye on watching humans express theirs, so much so that they began to understand and learn cues. They began to understand what emotion meant what, and while a difficult feat at first, their ability to keep data stored, helped them build a bank of data full of human emotions. Zenyatta was one to pick up on emotional cues fairly quickly.

He noticed that you more absent recently, being inside of your own mind when you were with him. 

“Is everything okay, [y/n]?” His hand reached for your shoulder, and despite the metal features, he radiated a warmth. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking over at the omnic sat next to you. “Yeah, sorry. Did you say something?” 

He shook his head. “You went quiet so I figured I would leave you be for awhile.” 

“Oh… I apologise.” You look down at your hands, slightly embarrassed from being in a small daze. 

“No apology is necessary.” His hand patted your shoulder before he removed it, slowly leaning against you. 

“Hey, Zen…” You start, feeling a form of guilt rise inside of you for thinking what you’re about to ask. “Do… Do you really like me?” 

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side, an action of curiosity. 

You feel your breath catch in your throat, the anxiety only bubbling up more. “It’s… It’s hard to tell sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy this! I do, really-” You pause, trying to collect yourself. “It’s just… I don’t know. We do all this together, but it’s all we do.” 

“You want more? He asks. 

“No- Well, yes… I don’t know…” Releasing a sigh, you turn, sitting directly across from your omnic friend. “Your model, no offence, is one of the older ones… It’s hard to tell your emotions when you use the same voice frequency… It’s, how do I say this-” You look at him, smiling softly in hopes you don’t hurt him. “It’s blank, practically emotionless.” 

Zenyatta stares at you, processing what you’ve said. 

“I’m sorry-” you break the short silence. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… I don’t know any other way to describe it. I know you can’t help it.”

Then there was another uncomfortable silence as neither one of you spoke for a moment. 

“I should go…” You felt the embarrassment rise further, a slight pain in your chest as you moved to stand up before his hand grabbed your arm. 

“Do not leave. I am sorry.” His grip was firm yet gentle as he pulled you back down. “I understand what you are feeling.” While his tone never changed, it did lower in volume, something that you figured was him speaking softly, and or apologetically.  

“Zen…”  You looked down, watching his hand travel down your arm and hold your hand, metal thumb gently rubbing small circles on your skin. 

“I do like you, [y/n].” His other hand moved up, thumb and forefinger gently grabbing a hold of your chin and making you look at him. “I do think it is more than that. Love, possibly.” 

In that moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. Love? Zenyatta cocked his head to the side once more, something that seemed a little more playful, as if he was trying to smile. He leant in slightly as he pulled you closer before his faceplate was directly in front of your blushing face. 

You could hear a slight whirring noise emanating from him as he connected his faceplace with your lips, the coldness a stark comparison to your warmth. Your hands slowly reach up, caressing his metal cheeks and pulling him closer. 

He didn’t move for a moment, basking in the feeling of finally being able to kiss you, the warmth you gave made his own chassis warm, his fans working to cool him down before he pulls away, releasing a soft sigh. 

“Did I do good?” He asks, head tilting to the side. Though expressionless, you could hear a slight hint of happiness in his voice.

With a small laugh, you position yourself so that your head rests on his shoulder, entwining your hand with his. “Yes, Zen, you did well.” 

“I want to do it more often.” He says as he rests his head on top of yours. 

“You can, whenever you’d like.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you laugh once more. He squeezes your hand back before he removes his hand from yours and wraps that arm around your shoulders, his other hand taking its place in yours. You could feel the gentle stroking on your arm, a calm and soothing motion. 

Before he rests his head back down on top of yours, he plants a kiss on your forehead, the cold feeling staying a little while longer as he relaxes against you, a memory he will have engrained in his head for years to come.

[ideceivedthem]

What are your basic headcannons for alt Gabriel, how do you see him, how does he act, who is he "REALLY", how is he to his s/o

oh yesyesyes!!! i have quite a few of these actually :)

basic headcanons:

+ he's 6'10 (about 208cm i think)

+ generally doesn't need to sleep but will when he feels like he's earned it

+ he's literally lucifer though so that is fairly often because he's vain lol

+ he nests to sleep with expensive bedding like silk sheets and goose feather pillows

+ he has wings but they aren't his, he stole them from the real gabriel since he couldn't shapeshift his own

+ in fact if you look at his back there's scar tissue like meshing where they're artificially fused to his skin

+ holy blood definitely didn't mesh well with his own, seeing as he's the lord of fucking darkness /reference, so he has chronic pain issues relating to his wings

+ his hair is deceptively (heh) thick and curly, kind of hard to brush through

+ smells like rosewater, lavender, jasmine, and frankincense

+ loves all things opulent because of his vanity

+ he holds hatred for his archangel brothers, especially michael

+ he can enter into holy ground but it causes an increasing sense of dread and paranoia the longer he's there

+ holy objects hurt him if he touches them, unless the objects weren't concentrated or have been used to commit sin

how i see him and how he acts and who he really is:

+ he's definitely former archangel lucifer, without a doubt

+ incredibly vain and prideful

+ sharp but can have a sweet side if you're lucky

+ you probably couldn't fix him tbh but we're all simps here so we can pretend lol

+ definite superiority complex, all humans* are beneath him

+ cunning and intelligent and knows exactly how to get what he wants

how he is with his s/o:

+ shockingly he views his s/o as equal to himself, after all a ruler needs a right hand of equal status to rule by his side

+ he's very sweet with his s/o too, doing everything in his power to make sure they have their every desire met

+ a tad possessive (but not, like, yandere lol that trope makes me so uncomfy and won't be written here)

+ his s/o has him at their every beck and call, and that's how he intents to treat them when they're ruling this mortal plane at his side

+ nicknames for his s/o include "lamb", "dove", "sweetling", and "angel"

[ohshy]

Apart from Hipercy, what are your favorite punch out fics?

im assuming u meant ships right?? IN AAANY CASE, here u go bro !!

Royal army (von kaiser x king hippo) is definitely up there as my favorite PO ship. I love how it started out as a crackship from a joke in animal crossing but then just delved into Whatever the fuck w/ maber KJDHKSJF.

But seriously though !! they just Work somehow... like you have both of them having royal names (albeit i hc hippos is an actual title he carries, and kaisers more of a stage name bc of his interest in royal n military history). Plus, I think kaiser would b very interested in learning more ab hippos culture n hippo would b happy to indulge him. It's what elevates Kaiser from ''just another peasant'' to Hippo as someone who he's willing to talk to! Not many people take his title seriously as hippo island's fairly unknown outside of the south pacific hes from, so when they first meet, Kaiser's a huge breath of fresh air to him.

Seeing as Kaiser is a polyglot as well in my HC, I like to think he was one of the few people in the WVBA who had prior knowledge of Hippo Island and it's language. Although Kaiser can only speak a couple basic sentences and struggles with the pronounciation, Hippo still appreciates the effort. In turn, Kaiser has also taught Hippo some German, the language being easier to Hippo due to the sounds made.

Totally T4T (tism4tism).

ALSO imagine the hippo island kids n kaiser's academy kids going on some type of exchange w/ one another !! theyd have the time of their lives !! The kids would totally get into an argument over who's cooler too.

They're a lot like opposites attracting as well. Hippo, although he is responsible to his people, is generally a lot more easygoing n defo helps kaiser let loose a bit more like how he did in his 20s (berliner party days baybe !!!) But Hippo learns a lot from Kaiser too ! he really admires his work ethic, and loves how much of a leader n fatherly he is to the kids he teaches. He admires his resilience as well, both having confided much into eachother. His resilicience almost like a... MACHINE?!? Either way, both have positions in which they lead in some way, and theyve both taught eachother a lot.

Also they bond over dead mother figures (hippos who died of illness, and kaiser's who went missing when he was very young.)

As for how they'd butt heads, would be kaisers endless need to seek approval due to his dad being emotionally constipated, and hippos occasional emotional outbursts (poor emotional regulation). also hippos friendly teasing (how he shows affection, aside from physical contact) sometimes strikes a nerve w/ kaiser, esp if it's about his age or career.

One time, after a particularly exhausting match, kaiser just fell asleep on hippos lap as the latter was holding him. Aran walked by in disbelief, w/ hippo going ''heh, jealous? ;)'' w/ aran going ''Nah, not at all''

One last thing.... hippo sees kaiser as a kitten (thank you maber for that idea i am obsessed); kaiser's height n physique r significantly smaller than hippo's, leading to hippo often times patting him on the head n even picking him up like he weighs nothing. Kaiser secretly rly likes it, but he won't tell him directly because yknow... hes got a rep to protect.

^ Kaiser to Hippo

other ships i like include.... Red bull (soda x bull) burnt bread (joe x aran) u can blame charlie for both those (jk jk bro im glad u got me into those ships. But please read his fics, thats how i got into them) and disco kid x heike kagero !!

Red bull is just very neat bc of the whole, in simple terms, sunshine x grump dynamic (and im saying simple terms bc charlie's fics flesh out their relationship A LOT more n its basically the best ok go read his fics), burnt bread bc of how unlikely yet funny it is, and disco x heike bc, eventhough theyve never interacted, you KNOW theyd absolutely be bffs at the very least.

[bismuthupmy]

Nothing Hurts | Leon x Luis RE4

Chapter 6 | 3.5k

The story of tragic righteousness where nobody is hurt and everything is perfect. Except nothing is perfect in hell.

A re-imagining of the events of the Resident Evil 4 remake where Luis and Leon get the ending they deserved.

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Conveniently locked out of my google account for the better part of two weeks I also do not speak Spanish I can’t remember is i already said lmao so all the Spanish that isn’t in the game is curated from deepL

Ch. 1

——————————————————————————————————

The next part of the fortress was silent. Fire burned in torches around the old wooden buildings but no other voices were heard.

“Sure is quiet,” Leon mused, eyes darting back and forth around the complex. The age of the village was showing from the old wood and the pieces falling apart. It really made the place look abandoned, the only signs of life being the fires. 

“Maybe they’re at church,” Luis offered. Leon looked at him incredulously only to find that stupid smug smirk on his face.

“Right, well, we don't want them to know we’re here so lets be just as quiet, hm?”

“You were the one who spoke first.”

Leon huffed at Luis’ comment but didn’t give him any more attention. It was suspicious how still it was after clawing tooth and nail to get to where they are through hoards of angry ganados. He couldn't help but feel like something was up but that also could just be the adrenaline.

Leon led them to another closed off gate which looked like it needed some sort of key to get it open like absolutely everything else. He began to trudge off towards the large buildings in the fortress when Luis spoke up again.

“Looks like we need a crank or something,” the Spaniard was still inspecting the gate with Ashley standing between them like she wasn't sure who to stick with.

“You think?” Leon raised an eyebrow at Luis, voice dripping with sarcasm. As if he hadn't already just come to that conclusion. 

“You can raise one eyebrow at a time?” Ashley butt in before giggling. “Sorry sorry. Irrelevant.”

“Do that often, vaquero? You’ll get wrinkles.”

Leon just stared at them for a moment, “What?”

Luis just waved him off and Ashley tried not to giggle again and Leon was done with this bullying.

“Remember I’m the only one who can get you guys out of here,” Leon shrugged, playing along. Wasn’t entirely true but he really didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were to be left without him either.

The biggest building was fairly empty with only a table and a locker to the side of the top floor. There were some more supply boxes, lathered with the same streaks of yellow paint all over the village. He never actually stopped to think about them until now actually. Usually he was a bit busy when they were just there so no he hadn't thought about the convenient loot boxes in a village full of non-cognisant people who were trying to kill him.

“Why the hell are there these boxes everywhere?” he smashed into one with a stomp, crouching down to pick up whatever ammo was stashed inside. 

“Oh, heh, that was me,” Luis piped up from a few feet away, smashing into another box himself. “Put stuff all over the village. In… case…”

Luis’s eyes darted around the area almost as if he was proving a point but seemed too nervous. Leon turned towards the big hole in the floor which led to the lower level. 

“In case. How long have you been here?” He leaned over the drop to assess the height before dropping down, disturbing the layer of dust over the floor. 

“No clue. Few days?” Luis dropped down beside him. Leon looked up to see Ashley timidly scooting to the edge to eliminate as much height as possible before sliding over and down. Leon reached out to steady her when she stumbled. Luis kept talking.

“Hard to tell  when you've been kidnaped by a mad giant and stuffed in a basement, eh?”

Leon hummed, inspecting the tables in this lower room now, picking up a stray grenade and glancing around the walls. There was another odd locker and two doors in the corners which turned out to have been locked from the outside which could have been avoided. It's too late now. They could  probably climb back up somehow.

“Fair enough,” he could probably pull one of the tables over and use it to jump up then pull the other two up. “How’d you get here in the first place?”

“Long story, actually-”

“Look!” Ashley exclaimed from the pots and clutter she was rifling through on the table, pointing across the room. “Is that the handle?”

On the far wall was a stack of wall shelves and sat nicely on the bottom was a crank handle. As expected. Leon nodded at ashey with a smile which said ‘good job’ and went to retrieve it. He crossed the room in a handful of strides and reached for the crank. The moment his fingertips touched the handle the ear scraping sound of chainsaws blared through the quiet. 

Two chainsaws pierced the fragile wooden wall either side of Leon slowly closing inwards. Entirely on impulse he leapt up the wall and pushed off, backflipping away as the ganados caved in the wall. One of the chainsaw women picked up and pocketed the crank handle.

“Sorry, didn't realise that was yours,” Leon pulled out his shotgun and backed up, glancing at Ashley behind him who was using Luis as a shield. “Ashley, get in the locker!”

The girl looked at him oddly but immediately did as she was told. 

“Mind if i hide too?” Luis smirked.

“Sure. If you want to get strangled later in return.”

“Hand me one of those big fancy guns of yours then.”

One of the chainsaws came rushing towards Leon who barely had a second to chuck his rifle in Luis’ vague direction, firing a blast from his shotgun into her face and then delivering a wide kick when she stumbled.

“I am flattered,” The other chainsaw narrowly missed its target again as Leon jogged backwards out of the range of the teeth. “But I’m a one lady type of guy.”

The door on the side of the room burst open and more ganados stormed the fortress. The one blocking the doorway was swiftly put down by Luis with the rifle at close range, opening up another escape.

Leon made a run for the gap in the wall the twin chainsaws made while Luis exited through the now open door. More ganados closed in around him so he chucked the grenade he collected, thinning out the crowd. He downed a bunch more of the ganados with carefully placed headshots, clearing a path to the higher ground on the other side. 

Leon ran up the stairs to get leverage over the hoard. Glancing around, Luis was nowhere to be seen. The bastard must’ve hid. With his rifle too. 

Gunshots resonated around the fortress as more ganados clambered up the stairs behind him. The shotgun wasn't nearly as helpful as it had been earlier because now it just blew their heads off and in their place erupted the fleshy worm heads with the sharp tentacles that threatened to behead him.

He was slowly pushed back across the platform which in turn pushed Im back towards the big house. Which wasnt a problem since he could just loop around however they had rested a ladder on the bridge behind him. Leon ducked under a scythe tentacle when a pitchfork came hurtling at him from behind, only the heavy footsteps of the extra ganado alerting him.

Leon turned just in time as the ganado charged at him and body slammed him to which Leon turned and threw him into the wall followed by a sharp knife through the skull. He shot down the ladder behind him to knock off the next climber and kicked it over heading backwards again as the chainsaws had caught up, engines whirring.

The ganados surrounding the chainsaws bunched together making an impenetrable wall. One of the chainsaws came zigzagging towards him in slicing motions before a loud crack sounded beside him. The chainsaw woman faltered and a few more familiar bursts followed and several ganados dropped. 

Leon glanced at the side where the gunshots came from to see Luis perched on a rock with his rifle. Luis gave a swift thumbs up before focusing again and Leon could more easily work on the chainsaws. The scythe heads began getting too close but Luis took them out for him and Leon focused on the women. They were tougher and moved more sporadically so Leon had to deal with them himself. 

A chainsaw came crashing down from the air to which he parried, knife up against serrated machinery. He was keeping the woman stationary which allowed Luis to take the risky shot to stun her. He landed a shot into her side which gave Leon the chance to give the ganado a good kick to knock her back. 

Not wanting to be caught up inside an enclosed house, Leon dropped down to the ground from the bridge. The chainsaw twins followed him down which made them crumple after the fall leaving them open to attack which Leon did. He drove his knife into the neck of one of them, killing her. One down. 

The second one got up from her tumble and brandished her chainsaw up high and began slashing at him again but with no more aggression than before. Jesus these guys must really be mindless. He just killed her twin after all. Or well he assumed it was her twin. They looked similar enough.

Leon slid out of the way, throwing himself behind a wooden wall where the chainsaw followed and lodged itself. The ganado pulled on it but it was stuck in the thick beam holding up the complex which left her defenceless. Leon heaved his shotgun up to blast her in the face which would hopefully take her out before she came scratching at him or something.

The ganado did run at him, arms out in front of her as if to choke him but one last blast from the shotgun a foot away finally did it. The last a ganado fell to the ground, dropping ontop of Leon which ended up bowling him over and into the wooden wall behind him. The crank handle fell out of her pocket.

White hot pain shot  up Leon’s side. He pushed the chainsaw woman off of him with a hiss. He shakily stood up and pressed a hand to the pain. His hand came away crimson and looking down he was met with a decent size gash through his shirt and deep into his skin. Was that from the pitchfork? He thought he dodged it.

He leaned against the wall panting, putting pressure on the wound for a minute to catch his breath. The wound certainly didn't look too great but that thought was immediately banished when he heard the timid cry out from Ashley.

“Leon?” The girl called frantically. “Where’d you go?!”

He wiped his bloody hand on his pants and pushed himself off the wall. Ashley probably thought he was dead or something. His shirt pulled down enough to ruffle up and conceal his side so he didn't shock the other blonde.

“Here,” Leon met Ashley back in the open area. She instantly deflated in relief and looked down to where Leon was holding the crank handle.

“Is that the handle,” her eyes lit up. Leon nodded with a smile and  held it up for ear to see better. 

“You seen Luis?”

“No? I thought he was you.”

Leon’s smile set into a frown again swiftly just as the man in question sauntered up to them, rifle slung over his shoulder so haphazardly Leon wanted to give him a lecture on gun safety.

“Don’t worry just yet, amigos. I’m not ready to die just yet,” Luis continued to head onwards to the locked gate they encountered. “What are you waiting for? You got the crank, yes?”

Leon followed after the Spaniard, Ashley in tow, “That was some good shooting there, Luis.”

“Yeah. Saved your ass on that bridge, you’re welcome. Now hurry up and open this gate. I've got the jitters after all that.”

Leon chuckled tiredly as Luis made a show of shaking himself out of the adrenaline and set the crank handle into its place in the door and spun it around. The gate then could be pushed open which caused another sharp string of pain up his side as he put all his weight into it. He grimaced silently through the sting.

─•~❉᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•──•~❉᯽❉~•─

The trio continued up the path behind the gate. Leon hunched over slightly to limit the tension he put on the gash. They came up to a ruined house which conveniently had a ramp where they could drop into it. This area was just as quiet as the fortress had been but he didn't have a weird gut feeling about the house so he was fairly sure no ganado was going to jump out of the crates. Leon dropped down into the house but fell to one knee. Luis dropped in beside him with a smug look on his face.

“Never seen you fail a drop before. Tired, are we?”

Leon just grunted and turned away, pulling himself up. He didn't have the energy to come up with a comeback to Luis’ teasing right now. Everything hurt. 

Ashley dropped down last and when she did Leon went to continue forward. He was quickly stopped by a firm hand on his arm.

“Oye, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Leon yanked his arm out of Luis’ grip. “We need to keep moving.”

Luis sighed disapprovingly and Ashley voiced a confused question in the background. Leon watched as Luis went around the small house and pulled a salvaged chair up out of the debris and situated it next to a table, patting it.

“No.”

“Por Dios, Leon. We have time. Where did they get you?”

“I can do it myself,” Leon muttered defiantly, relenting. Luis raised his hands in surrender and thankfully let Leon do his thing and went to find something else to sit on. Leon watched as he and Ashley pulled up another chair and a crate around the room to relax for the time being. 

Leon searched through his medical pack for some spare med spray and his prepackaged suture equipment he was given. He could vaguely hear Luis and Ashley murmuring to each other across the room but that was ignored in favour of looking for anything that he could use to wipe off the extra blood still seeping out of him. He settled for one of his cleaning cloths for his guns which he drenched in some medspray and pressed to the wound. 

The med spray worked magic and it always amazed him. It stung on first contact like any alcohol would but a tingling sensation followed which was the feeling of his flesh sticking itself back together, clotting up any blood flow and preventing him from bleeding out on the chair.

The wound was definitely more serious than he thought it was at first and was now silently grateful for Luis making him treat it. It would need stitches so that the medspray could help heal the wound closed further, so he broke open the needle and thread from its packet and went to thread it.

His hands shook slightly as he held the needle to the irritated flesh at his side.  He was never fond of needles. Or sharp things in general. It was irrational he knew, being a government agent and dealing with new biohazards several times now, but he never seemed to shake it even from childhood. 

“Madre de Cristo, eres inútil. Let me do it.”

Luis dragged the crate he was sitting on harshly and plopped down in front of where Leon was oddly stretched out. He snatched the needle from Leon’s hands and batted away his other, not taking any protests. Leon just huffed and leaned back and let Luis do the work.

He worked swiftly and precisely until the gash was stitched up with neat lines which he then doused in more medspray to close up more. The spray could only do so much but it should take the edge off and hopefully prevent any further worsening of the wound.

Leon watched Luis intently the entire time, unblinking with a grimace plastered on his face. He had become entranced by the loops and the flicks of Luis’ warm hands on his abdomen. When Luis had finished Leon was started out of his head with a pat to his leg. 

“All done,” he smiled, proud of his handiwork. “How’s it feel?”

“Hurts,” Leon said indignantly, pulling his shirt back down and sat up straight again refusing to think about a nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

“Baby.”

“Asshole.”

Luis chuckled before turning to Ashley on the other side of the room. “What do you think, princesa? Ready to head out again?”

Ashley nodded happily and jumped up from her seat. She seemed to have been napping against the wall a bit as she looked rather sleepy. Luis got up and gathered his things, still holding onto Leon’s rifle. Leon packed up the medical equipment, deciding to leave the bloody cloth behind.

He coughed gruffly, shaking out of the weird daze he had fallen into for a minute there.

“Let’s go.”

He didn’t look back to check if the other two were following because he knew they would. He exited the small house and headed back outside and to another gate up ahead. He shoved this gate open with much less trouble than before and glanced around for any threats up ahead. Looked clear.

“All right. Come on,” he gestured to his companions as he cautiously inspected the route. It looked just the same as the rest of the roads in the village but somehow sparser. Ashley cried out in fear.

Whipping around the giant from earlier had his grip on Ashley and Leon wasted no time in pulling out his knife and driving it into the man’s arm. He let go of the girl who stumbled backwards and he pulled his knife back. That did nothing to phase him.

“Hello there, village chief,” Luis muttered, ushering Ashley to stay behind him which distracted Leon momentarily as a big arm reared back and then swung forwards, tossing him across the path. 

“Leon!”

He felt hands on him pulling him up and he scrambled into a sitting position. This was going to bruise badly. He absently hoped his stitches hadnt torn. The village chief pulled the lock on the gate and used sheer strength to bend it to prevent any escape in that direction. 

“Your soul requires cleansing. Come child.”

“We’ve got to go,” Luis pulled at Leon’s arm and Leon stood back up ready to flee. He was after Ashley and he had to protect her.

“Ashley, run!”

Ashley followed his order and ran up the path before screaming again and coming to a stop. More ganados were closing in from the other direction trying to block them in. Leon pulled out his handgun, shooting out oncoming ganado’s legs so they could run past. Luis did the same beside him.

They raced around ganados and away from the chief as the giant just slowly stalked towards them with no sense of urgency. Leon spotted explosives up ahead, pausing the group briefly to gather enough ganados to make it worth it and blew them up leaving them a clearer path. 

The bridge up ahead was not  an option as some ganados waited on the other side to chop it down, dropping them into a ravine so Leon pointed them down a side path to the left. It was built from old rickety wooden boards that groaned under every step. 

Leon covered them from more oncoming ganados as Luis took the lead in front of Ashley, sandwiching her between them. Leon followed after them when they had run past. The only option out of here was a tight beam of planks over the ravine.

Luis made it across, Ashley slightly slower behind him. Leon watched her foot sink into the rotting wood, trapping her.

“You ok?” Leon crouched down to try and pry at the wood closing around her ankle.

“I’m stuck,” Ashley frantically explained, pulled at her foot which was not making her case any better. A ganado ran down the ame path and Leon dropped the wood in favour of taking out their attacker. The ganado dropped heavily into the wood, disturbing the planks and the rusted nails, making a scary creaking noise. Wood planks started to give way. The bridge was going to collapse.

Leon turned back to Ashley to see Luis pry her foot out of its trap.

“We’re good!” Luis confirmed. 

“Then go!”

The three of them ran for the edge of the bridge, to safety, as the wood began to fall apart behind them, licking at their heels. With one last leap Leon made it across, falling next to Ashley, Luis stumbling slightly ahead. The wooden bridge was gone and the village chief watched them from across the ravine. Leon stood up slowly and watched as the giant stalked away.

——————————————————————————————————It is absolutely ridiculous to me that Leon decided to backflip his way out of the chainsaw situation instead of taking a few steps backwards like a normal person Man is insane

<- Previous | Next ->

[not-poignant]

Hey Pia! Hope you're well (very new reader here).

I gather that you live in quite a rural area (?) what do you like about living there? What is the flora/fauna like? I'm from the UK and haven't really experienced other climates so I'm interested heh

˶‘ ᵕ ‘˶

Hi hi anon!

I'm in what's classified as 'semi-rural' here in Western Australia, but basically it means that I am smack in the middle of dense suburbia, and then 10 minutes away from farmland and bushland on all sides, lol.

It's weird! Because it means we have a lot of amenities close by (though no hospitals or emergency care, they're all around 30-60 minutes away), but it also means when we travel out of the suburb, we often see kangaroos or alternatively alpacas and sheep (there's a lot of fleece farms up this way).

The weather here is actually quite Mediterranean (literally, Perth is classed as a 'Hot-summer Mediterranean climate' in the Koppen system). We can go months without rain. And we get around 139 clear days per year (no cloud cover), which means we're one of the sunniest capital cities in the world (to my endless dismay).

As to the animals *thinks* it's fairly normal to see kangaroos around here, at large parks and on farmland and clearings in bushland, and sometimes on the side of busy roads (which is not great). They are most common at dawn and at dusk. We also used to see wild emus for a while, but that was a few years ago, and I think this area is now too built up for it!

There are lots of parrots, and they're probably the most common birds we see, outside of like doves, Australian magpies (they are not Corvids), Australian ravens (they are Corvids), and birds of prey. The most common parrots we get up here are Carnaby's cockatoos, rainbow lorikeets, corellas, and pink & grey galahs. We also have a decent population of wood ducks, lol. And a lot of small songbirds. We get a lot of singing honeyeaters and brown honeyeaters in our garden.

Most of our trees aren't deciduous, so they keep their leaves all year round. And Eucalyptus are flowering trees. Right now all the jarrah trees are flowering all at the same time, with puffy huge white and cream blossoms, turning the bushland into the sound of lazy buzzing. Every day this week will be over 36C, so we make sure our birdbath is full, and the birds do actually use it. We have a garden, and I have mostly native plants in there, as well as some pots with curry plant (karapincha) and lemongrass, as well as rosemary, thyme and lavender.

When the weather is hot and there's clouds in the sky, we get the most amazing sunsets. My userpic is of a sunset that happened in my back garden.

These, for example, were all taken in the back garden:

And this is what most of the surrounding bushland around us looks like in summer:

And some extras:

[gentleoverdrive]

Once the last bastion has been conquered, the Deliverance prepare to march towards the Rigelian Capital. The Deliverance's field commander and one of his most stalwart allies allow themselves to take it easy before that happens, however.

(Previous oneshot/chapter is here. If you don't want to read it in AO3, see below!)

“Well met, and salutations, Alm.” Hearing those first two words from someone out of his eyesight would often leave the young leader bereft of any energy and force him to grin and bear with what was needed of him; and while he had grown to adapt to his position atop the Deliverance fairly well, part of him simply wanted to avoid the etiquette of it all when it came to people calling him ‘Sir’ or something to the effect. “Well met, and salutations to you too, Clair!” But he was easily able to make that melodious voice out among the crowd, and luckily for him, neither his ears nor the tap on his left shoulder managed to deceive him, for it was none other than the spirited lady who had become his confidante among said upper echelons of the Deliverance, the cheerfulness that populated his reply all the more apparent now because of that. Following her older brother publicly decreeing that this fortress had been successfully conquered was just as good a time as any to find her emerald-haired friend since, for Clair, having these one-on-one talks with the leader of the Zofian effort was one of the few boons she could still count among, what with almost everything else in her day-to-day life having become mostly stripped away to make way for actual necessities. “May we speak once more?” “As always, I would most certainly love to.” The jovial back and forth allowed Alm to hand his quasi-personal blacksmith the remnant parts of his armor so that it could get a lookup and, perhaps, some proper restoration work done ahead of the march to Rigel Castle the army was preparing towards. “Milord.” Clair deigned to offer her hand for Alm to take… “Milady.” …an offer which the boy quickly took her up on. And before long, they were walking away–respectively letting out a hearty chuckle and dignified titter as they did–from the makeshift tents the Deliverance had set next to the front gate for miscellaneous tasks. --------------------------

As they made their way into the main hall, Alm noticed that his walking companion was barely able to suppress a wince. “Wha–-hey! Clair, are you OK?” “I… well, I deign most unsuitable to lie to you, but I did not want you to worry over such a minor affair.” “This goes beyond my being your commander. Answer me: Are you okay?” For a brief moment, with Alm’s face occupying part of what she considered her personal space, the celebrated falcon knight briefly felt that same funny pang in her chest from back when she was still getting acquainted with the Ram Village boy she now called both her friend and commanding officer. “I…” Clair felt the need to find her verbal footing once more. “...I may have flown afoul of a small deployment of archers as I directed my partner into your general direction. Perhaps I should count my blessings, for all but one arrow was the one that managed to graze my right greave.” “I see… will you be able to hold on until we arrive at the mess hall?” “My my! Could it be, perhaps, that there is something you have in store for me?” Seizing upon the opportunity to lighten up both of their burdens, she teasingly poked at his cheek to dispel that frown that currently inhabited his visage. Along with turning the tables and having his cheeks turn a flush red, Alm’s frown quickly gave way to an awkward smile as he offered his arm for her to hold on to. “Heh, I just might!” -------------------------- “So, you saw my scrap against Slayde.”

After finding appropriate seating arrangements upon a relatively isolated table, the young man from Ram Village and the girl from the Zofian Capital had exchanged pleasantries for some time, before the touchy subject resurfaced.

“I most certainly did.”

At that confirmation, Alm guided his eyes away as he took in a deep breath and his clasped hands became ever so slightly shakier as he remembered his violent act of unfettered retribution against the now slain turncoat.

“You do not have to pretend when around me, Alm.” Just in the moment she felt her friend pulling back, Clair placed her right hand upon both of his. “Slayde visited some sort of heinous act upon you or, perhaps, a loved one, did he not?”

“He did.” His reply came swift and almost as though it were instinct, his eyes still casting their sights elsewhere.

“Then say no more.” Clair’s own response came along with her left index flicking the green-haired young man on his forehead. After wincing from the slight sting, Alm directed his attention towards his confidante once more, her bid to regain his attention a success.

“I have known for quite some time how much of a right craven that man was. Some of said experience came first-hand too, no less. You did Valentia as a whole a favor by besting him the way you did.”

Upon hearing those words, a sense of relief flowed through the leader of the Deliverance, both obvious due to his neutral expression soon switching to a sober but genuine smile and the easygoing sigh after he allowed himself a deep breath.

“...a cutting remark from the Queen of High Society herself? Alas for his reputation!” At his sudden retort, both quickly embraced the levity their back-and-forth allowed them, with his open chuckle and her serene titter.

“I thank you, Clair.”

“Perish the thought. You ought to be in as high spirits as possible if we are to have you properly lead us to victory.”

Her refined manner of speech might have made a good show of hiding it, but seeing as though they were all but knocking at the doors of Rigel’s imperial capital, Alm understood her friend’s burning vigor all too well.

“Right you are, as usual.” Alm quickly cleared his throat after those words. “Apropos of what we briefly talked about earlier and if it’s not too terribly imposing, may I see your right shin?”

“Mm? Is this pertaining to my injury?” The falcon knight suddenly felt put on the spot by such a request. At seeing her friend and fellow in arms reply with a quick nod and brief non-verbal grunt, Clair decided that she might as well allow him this ease of mind.

With a slight bit of difficulty, she put her right leg atop her seat to start undoing the armor covering her leg. Fortunately, her armor was relatively light and well cared for, so it came off without much problem, with Clair’s bare leg now in full display as Alm stood up from his seat and walked to her side.

All of a sudden, Clair felt a slight tinge of embarrassment at her current position, even as she knew the boy would not have any untoward intentions.

“Right.” Upon inspecting her injury, the aforementioned boy quickly closed both his eyes and took in a deep breath; a few words which Clair herself did not recognize started coming out of his mouth, and before she was able to put in two and two…

“And… there!” Alm placed both his hands near her injury, with a faint glow appearing soon after, fading before long.

Caught completely unaware, Clair did not even eke out any sort of reaction… not until she noticed that her injury and the fatigue that came with it both were gone.

“W–wait! W–”

The boy probably did not mean to cut her off, but when he exhaled a breath of relief, Clair’s thoughts were unable to be properly put all in one place.

“Would you kindly keep this a secret?”

The combination of her being unable to suppress her surprise at what just transpired and his plea of secrecy to this soon allowed a small bit of frustration to seep through as he walked back to his seat.

“And what, pray tell, was the meaning of that?” She was careful to not raise her voice, lest she were to bring the attention of the rest of the hall down upon their table, but the Zofian noble still felt like an explanation was needed.

At her line of inquiry, Alm realized he needed to come clean.

“You are absolutely right.” Once he seated himself once more, Alm placed the Royal Sword in front of them both.

“At some point after toppling Desaix and recovering this sword, I started hearing… well, not quite sure what it was, but I think something started to change within me as we journeyed further north. To make a somewhat long story short, thanks to sister Silque, Luthier and Kliff, I have been making strides in an attempt to learn healing magic.”

At that confession, Clair’s eyes widened.

“This is still very much a path I am just starting and to properly walk forth, I’m sure. So, as I previously begged of you, if we can keep this a secret for the time being at least, I would very much appreciate it.”

As he finished, Alm winked at her while bringing his left index finger to his mouth.

Clair was never much for mincing words or enjoying sweet nothings. However, she could not help but to admire as the man she had grown strangely close to throughout these hostilities showed her a side of himself he was still trying to prove worthy of.

At that, she revealed an open-hearted smile…

“Ow!” Before ‘chastising’ him for his transgression with yet another light flick to his forehead. Same as the previous flicker, too.

“Such an underhanded, cheeky friend I must have.”

[turtlemagnum]

here's some of the lore adjustments i'm going to make when i buy the star wars franchise:

recanonize hutts being able to biologically trans their gender for purposes of having kids. jabba can be trans if she wants to, ok

i think it's fucking stupid that twi'lek women are god damn gorgeous and the twi'lek men look like fucking freaks. therefore, i'm gonna be making the men look as pretty as the women. it's only fair

give the devaronian women horns. you make a species of devil lookin guys and you TAKE AWAY their HORN's??"? shame!! shame upon your houses. also i'd make the facial variation a bit more diverse so we still get the freaky lookin guys but also we should be able to make hot guys too with them i think.

in general i'd get away from that weird sexual dimorphism thing common to a lot of fantasy stuff where the males of a species are all monstrous but the women are all sexy and curvy and such. as such, either all of the people of a species are gonna be sexy and curvy like the women, or they're all gonna be monstrous like the men. them's the rules

revan would be made canonically transmasculine, though i'd wanna do it in a very low key way. it just makes sense!!!

droids can use the force, and everyone has a little bit of force in them so if you train hard enough anyone can become proficient. also, since the cool thing about the force is that it's a very soft kind of magic and is generally just whatever the story needs, i'd go Ever So Slightly Anime about it. like not full on but i'd definitely wanna stretch the physical elements of it slightly more than the movies tended to

yoda's lightsaber should be longer than average, actually. dude's little, he's gonna need the extra reach

the society of star wars is like, fairly straightforwardly a human supremacist one, right? how would that impact the beauty standards and gender identities of the other sapient guys? like what if a rodian got surgery to have a body more appealing to the human gaze? what if one of those secretary droids intentionally designed to look like a shapely woman turned out to be transmasc and got robo-top surgery? conversely, what if a transfem B1 battle droid got robo-breast implants to feel more like a woman?

anyways, speaking of rodians. i want you to imagine the face of a rodian (for those unaware, the guy we see han solo shoot at the beginning of a new hope (greedo) is a rodian). imagine what that mouth do. like, vacuum type shit. literally inhuman degrees of head game. think about it

slugthrowers!!! i'd wanna completely overhaul them, there's this one bit of lore That I Hate that is like "heh... slugthrowers are so much more reliable than blasters, which are actually unreliable as hell if you really think about it..." and it's like. No. That's Not How That Works. if blasters were less reliable than more conventional weaponry, they'd never be widely adopted. that's how weapons work. if it ain't reliable, nobody's gonna fucking use it!!! you need (and i mean NEED) the thing to go bang (or pew, in this case) every time you pull the trigger!! if it doesn't, then no military is gonna adopt it, and since civilians will very frequently go for stuff that has some degree of military pedigree, that's kind of fucking important. so, here's how i'd make blasters better than slugthrowers: more accurate, more reliable, easier to mass produce cheaply and effectively, higher ammunition capacity, and not impacted by varying gravity (at least not as much as Real Bullets, y'know). i'd also make the advantages of slugthrowers that they hard counter jedi (can't reflect metal with a lazer sword, you'd just melt it and now you have molten lead hitting your body at somewhere between mach 1 and 4!!!), and have more potentiality for stealth since you can suppress em silent if you know what you're doing. it is canon that jedi are often killed by assassins with explosives, and since slugthrowers are essentially a form of explosive, this is just an extension of that. so, that's why blasters would be more popular, because How Often Is A Normal Person Gonna Fight A Guy With A Lightsaber, so blasters are just Better in almost all situations but slugthrowers have Just Enough Of A Situational Benefit to still be around for like, at the very least people who are like, bounty hunters that specifically go after jedi or sith, y'know. And No, Jedi Cannot Just Catch The Bullets With The Force, That's Stupid.

anyways, i'd either make padme as young as anakin was when they meet (about 9) or i'd make anakin about the same age as padme when they meet (about 14). that way it's Not Quite As Weird, y'know. i'd probably spring for the latter since that'd be easier to cast good actors for

i'd decanonize the sequels since i have my own ideas for them, but i'd keep certain elements (like bb8 droids and porgs and the live slug reaction guy)

luke is ace but has romantic attraction. again, relatively low key but yeah. also mara jade is canon

i'd make jar jar hot. i'm not gonna elaborate because i wanna keep some things a suprise

[disillusionedjudge]

2. What is your muse’s kill count? 

7. How many scars does your muse have?

10. Does your muse have nightmares? What about?

11. Would your muse kill for someone they care about? 

Angsty Character Questions

2. What is your muse's kill count?

I... have no idea? I mean, it's probably a fairly decent number at the lowest, heh, considering Gylfie fought in multiple battles against Rozarria, Dalmasca, and Nabradia, and she doesn't exactly have any qualms against killing. It's not something she thinks lightly of by any means, but... it was definitely a mentality of "it's them or me", so she didn't hold back her punches. But, with that said, I can solidly say her kill count is at least one confirmed, ahah.

7. How many scars does your muse have?

She has twelve, and I actually have a little reference sheet for her scars here!

10. Does your muse have nightmares? What about?

Gylfie does get nightmares fairly frequently, though for the most part, they're not too bad. She'll wake up alarmed, but... can usually brush them off and go back to sleep, or even just vaguely wake up before nodding off again. But she does get some that can really rattle her, and those take longer for her to snap out of and settle back down.

Her nightmares are normally war-related, but she'll also have nightmares about the day she killed her father, and the day she almost died herself. She'll sometimes wake up panicked and believing she's bleeding out - usually in a coughing fit because she feels like she's choking - and those ones tend to be the worst for her. She has a hard time trying to fall back to sleep after those ones because her mind keeps tricking her into thinking there's blood on her or pooled around her, but she does her best to power through. The ones about her father... tend to leave her looking a little more haunted throughout the day, and like the ones about her dying, she struggles to fall back asleep after, and often ends up stuck repeating his death in a loop in her head.

11. Would your muse kill for someone they care about?

Oh, absolutely. I mean... Gylfie's not quick to kill another person outside of battle, so it's not like she'll eagerly jump to that as a consequence for any slight against her loved ones, but... if it came down to it, she would. She's killed before, after all, so it's not like she has anything else to lose. Plus, if it means whoever she cares about doesn't have to be the one to kill, she'd step in for them. She'd rather take that guilt and bear it herself than have someone else feel that weight.

[imnobodyuknow]

“And now, here it finally is...”

“Emphasis on ‘finally.’”

“...‘big reveal’ number 57!  Let’s unveil--”

“Oh!  That’s...”

“Heh...  Wow.  That’s pretty cool.”

Thank you!  So, those of you familiar with, um...

“...?”

...You can, uh...sit this one out if you want.

“...Okay.”

So, for those of you familiar with the game Celeste, you may know about Madeline’s adventures on Celeste Mountain, where she took on the challenge of climbing to its peak as well as the challenge of (quite literally) facing her fears.  But in this picture, she’s preparing to tackle one of the scariest challenges ever attempted by any human being...

(Celeste Spoilers Ahead)

...the job interview.

Thankfully, she has a friend there to give her a little confidence boost.  😊

Her reflected self, an incarnation of her pragmatic side known to Celeste fans as “Badeline” (although I personally prefer “Shadowline”), now only exists inside of her and is present only in her imagination, but the thought of Shadowline giving her a confident wink that says, “You got this.” is all she needs to muster up the courage for the task ahead of her.  And if you’ve ever been to a job interview, you know how much courage it takes to do it well and give a good impression (or even follow through with it sometimes).  But as someone who’s been through a number of them, I’m happy to inform you that it’s a challenge that gets easier and easier as it goes.  Like climbing a mountain, it’ll still be difficult, but you can gain strength and confidence with each interview, as well as each day on the job if you’re lucky enough to get it.  It’s a challenge to be sure, but it can be done!  😉

So, what kind of job is Maddy applying for?  I...actually didn’t think that far ahead, but whatever it is, one thing we can know for sure is that she has the guts and determination to do her best at it and show them what she’s made of, and she’s plenty aware of it.  I just hope they’re ready for her.  😏

Drawing Madeline and Shadowline was fairly simple for me since I’ve drawn them both a few times already, but I decided to give them a fancy looking business suit this time, using a picture of a real one as a reference:

I ended up making it look a lot like Phoenix Wright’s suit, come to think of it.  I wonder why that is?

Shadowline’s confident smile came from an expression she made in one of Celeste’s endings (the first one I got, in fact):

The picture on the wall is my attempt at recreating a picture of Madeline’s battle with herself:

And finally, Madeline’s house was made after the cutscene that where it’s briefly shown in the game’s Epilogue (which I still haven’t attempted to complete, but I might give it a shot down the road):

The drawing includes some parts of the room that are unseen in the game, so I did my best to make it look similar to the rest of it.  If you look closely, you’ll see her bed and the small bookshelf with pictures on it reflected in the mirror.

That was a tricky-but-fun challenge, I have to admit.  It seems like I run into that sort of challenge a lot when I’m drawing.

One other detail I’d like to share is the outfits in her closet.  I decided to include the coat and boots she wears in the game, as well as some regular shirts, like the one she wore in another drawing of mine.  They all have a strawberry design on them, naturally.  I mean, why wouldn’t they?  😉

And with that, I encourage you to take on the world and its challenges with all the courage and resolve you can gather, whether you receive it from God, your family, your friends, or just from yourself.  As they say, your imagination is your only limitation.  It’s easy to forget that when the going gets tough (as I do myself all too often), but it’s always true regardless.

[iwouldfuckdarkiplier]

Part 1 of 2 CW: A/B/O, attempted assault, fist fight, bloody nose, drunk reader

Alpha!Damien x Omega!Reader

Lights were flashing to the sound of the blaring music. Your vision was swimming in and out of the darkness as your head throbbed. You vaguely registered that you had a glass of some type of liquor in one of your hands while the other braced against the wall. It was yet another university party, though you had no idea who threw it this time. Probably some dumb alpha jock who only went to the university for the parties. You felt your stomach churn and stumbled out of the kitchen toward the door that lead to the backyard so you could vomit in peace. That's when a harsh grip wrapped itself around the back of your neck, lifting it up suddenly. Your vision swam before landing on the perpetrator. A tall, blonde male that looked fairly put together and like he was living off his daddy's paycheck. With one sniff, you could tell he was an alpha. "Look at this bitch!" He laughed whilst looking at a group of other young alphas. "Maybe we could have some fun with them, huh?" Suddenly, a hand grabbed your ass. You let out a loud yelp that no one heard over the music. You put your hands against the alpha's chest and pressed as hard as you could, but you were too drunk to do much. "Come on, don't fight it, darling. You know you'll like it~" The blonde tried to scent your neck, but you continued to try to move away from him. "Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?!" A familiar baritone voice filled your ears. It was usually very soft when talking to you, but this time it had an edge to it. "Uhm, it's none of your business, tough guy. Go away." The alpha sneered. "Actually, you trying to assault my friend is my fucking business. Let go of them." Damien, one of your best friends, suddenly filled the other side of your unsteady sight. You smiled slightly. He was always there to save you, no matter how drunk he was as well. The blonde alpha let go of you and stepped closer to Damien, getting in his face. Unsteady, you fell to the floor and right on your ass, the two alphas standing in front of you. Something was said between the two, but the music was too loud for you to hear or maybe you were starting to blackout, who knew at this point. A punch was thrown at Damien, hitting him right in the nose. He staggered a bit, but punched right back. The fight lasted only a few seconds before the other alpha was knocked on his ass in front of everyone and Damien was kneeling in front of you. "Hey, come on, little monster. Let's get you somewhere safe, yeah?" He wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders and one of his around your waist before helping you to your feet. He walked you out the front door and down the road. "Thakns for helpling mee, Damie~" You giggled. "Youn reeeaaly fucked him up~" You leaned into his side and put your other hand on his firm chest. "heh- stronngg alphpha~" "Oh, it was nothing really. Though you do seem to get into trouble quite often at these parties..." He smirked and chuckled. "Caan't help am- am ooemga..." You gave a solemn look and suddenly collapsed down onto your knees. "Whoa there, little monster, careful! You've certainly had too much to drink tonight..." The alpha stated before he curled one hand around your shoulders and the other under your knees, lifting you up and continuing to walk while carrying you. "I don't think we should be out here very long in the cold of winter. The dorms are too far. My parents' house is closer. I'll take you there." Damien walked down the frost-covered street with you in his arms. -Spooky 🎃

[miyuwuki]

HI HI ITS ME AS YOU KNOW I TOLD YOU I WANTED TO REQUEST SOMWTHING :DD

so, i’m a volleuball player and stand at about 6’2” ish. can i request miyuki and murasakibara with a gender neutral s/o who plays volleyball? and maybe they’re at one of their games or helping them practice with lots of fluff and kisses? thank you so much!!! <3

omg HELLO ZERO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST !! would u care to donate some height to me?? heh, please go check out their blog- it is lovely! enjoy :)

warnings: none

miyuki kazuya x gn!reader, murasakibara atsushi x gn!reader

when they’re a volleyball player

miyuki kazuya:

it was game day— the finals, and fortunately enough, miyuki had a spare day. your tournaments and his were always clashing, but the both of you always tried to make it to each other’s games. not only for the support, but because it was something that meant a lot to the both of you.

as the game was nearing to an end, the plays in your team’s favour, miyuki was standing against the glass, eyes glued to the ball just like you; he never was invested in any other sport but baseball before, but when he met you, you made volleyball much more interesting to him, especially when you were on the court.

“they’re quite clever,” your teammate said to you, wiping the sweat off of their forehead, “i’m gonna fake a set to blondie over there, but i’m actually going to set it to you, ‘kay y/n?”

you nodded, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at the score that was 23-24. one more point— one more point and we make it to nationals, you thought. all of you guys took your position on the court, waiting for the other team to serve. suddenly, you could hear your heartbeat through your ears and the anxiety in your chest.

fuck, shit, calm down!

your palms became sweaty and your vision began to blur. this often happened when you were nervous, but there couldn’t be a worse timing than now. you cursed under your breath, but before any of this could get severely bad, you heard your name being called from the bleachers.

“switch gears y/n!” miyuki yelled.

you turned your head to your boyfriend who was pressed up against the glass. “you got this!” he continued, “you’re much better than them, okay? so win!!”

you looked at the other team who was fairly getting annoyed at miyuki, their veins showing on the side of your head. you laughed and gave him a thumbs up while he smirked at you and crossed his arms.

that idiot, you smiled.

you didn’t know what it was, but if anyone had to set you straight, it was him; just a bit of his comfort was enough to push you forward. you relaxed your muscles and sparked that determination you had and eyed the server with a deathly glare.

they served the ball, high and hard, but with the luck in your hands, the back players were able to receive it. it went to your setter, and while the opposing team thought they were going to set it to the blonde teammate, they quickly shifted positions and set it to you. you spiked that ball hard, the pressure being so loud it echoed through the gym. it was silent for a bit, until the referee announced game.

“23-25, game set!”

the crowed roared into a cheer and your teammates tackled you, bringing you down to the ground.

“i knew i could count on you!” your teammate cried, “we fucking did it guys!” tears began to flow down your cheeks, laughter emitting from your mouth. you hugged each and every one of them, and when you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend walking down the bleachers, your feet was already making its way towards him. you jumped into his arms as he spun you around, giving him a huge kiss on his lips.

“we made it to nationals!” you cried, holding miyuki’s face, “we fucking made it!”

“you were about to lose it there, though.” he teased, putting you down. “but i knew you wouldn’t. never doubted it once.” he hugged you tightly, “so proud of you.” miyuki knew what it was like to make it to nationals and how important it was; and so he was ecstatic for you, excited that your hard work finally paid off.

you couldn’t stop laughing though; you were too happy. after endless nights of practicing, endless losses, endless journeys, you were finally going after your dream with the team you loved the most, and your boyfriend who has stuck with you through it all.

murasakibara atsushi:

“y/n-chin.. can we go?”

it was almost midnight, and you had asked your boyfriend to help you practice for this weekend’s game. you were pretty tall already, 6’2 with a strength of an animal, however you knew that there ever taller, stronger players competing this weekend— and there was no better person to help you than your own boyfriend.

“i’m sorry atsushi,” you panted, “just a little more.”

he grumbled, wiping the sweat on his face with his sleeve, “you owe me snacks..” he mumbled. you giggled, “of course.”

you set to the ball to yourself and tried to look for an opening to score. deep in concentration, your eyes scanned his side of the court, finding a spot to land you a point. you grinned and spiked the ball as hard as you could, only for it to deflect back on your side.

“argh!” you groaned, “i can never get past you!” you jogged to the ball, picking it up to try again.

“that’s because you’re so small, y/n-chin,” he teases, pulling a random pocky stick from his pocket and popping it in his mouth. you stomped your way to him, going under the net and huffed, “i’ll have you know that i’m 6’2! it’s abnormal to be almost seven feet, you know?”

he looked down on you and smiled, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulled you in close.

“so cute, y/n-chin is so cute.” he nuzzled into your hair while you sighed in defeat, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“can i have a pocky?” you asked, muffled in his chest. he pulled away, not too far, but enough to reach one in his pocket and hold it to your lips. he bit the one end and signalled you to bite the other end.

“let’s pway the pwocky game,” he said, struggling to pronounce his words. you laughed and switched from holding his waist to his neck, lugging him down to your eye level.

“let the game begin.”

but in one swift moment, murasakibara chomped the entire pocky, only leaving you with the piece inside your mouth.

“atsushi!” you whined, “you’re a cheater! cheater cheater cheater!” you turned your back to him and pouted, crossing your arms like a child. but then you felt a hand snake around your neck, making you turn to face him again. without even saying anything, he kissed your lips, forcing his tongue to dance with yours.

“can you taste the pocky?” he asked, a string of saliva connecting between the pairs of yours and his. a blush rose to your cheeks, making your face feel hot and hazy, “mhm,” you hummed. “chocolate.”

he pulled yet another piece from his pocket and held it up to your lips, “sorry, y/n-chin.” you ate the pocky in one bite, booping your boyfriend’s nose. “forgiven!”

“let’s go back now.”

“okay, but you’re helping me again tomorrow.”

“fine.”

-

@starsaeora thank u love for this request ily

[bedlamsbard]

3, 19, and 20

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

I don't think that I have one? This sort of thing I'll either do as a full story or I will do it as concept writing to get it out of my head, so I can't really think of anything that qualifies, especially for the "always wanted to write" caveat. Like, if I'm that hung up on it I'll usually just write it.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

oh yeah one of my recurring tropes is "the building is sentient and it wants to kill you," though weirdly I have no desire to do this in the MCU, so that one's so far completely out in this fandom. But I've done it a lot in both Star Wars and Narnia. (Same for sentient/semi-sentient objects, the way I do for holocrons in Star Wars -- I really, really have no interest in doing this in the MCU, even though there's arguably canonical support for doing it with the Infinity Stones. No interest. Not happening. Potentially could in the future -- they're all still around post-Yonder -- but no interest right now.)

I've got a lot of recurring phrasing that you'll see fairly often (the "it's me -- it's me" reprise whenever a character returns from the dead, "his/her gaze flicked," etc.) and probably some other recurring scene-types -- like, I do a lot of "character just woke up," it's probably one of my most common ways to start a scene. (There are two in this chapter of Horizon alone and the next chapter probably starts with one.) Also I write a lot of crying. Arguably too much crying, as an ex once accused me.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

oh man I could go on and on and need more specificity about which story you'd like (heh), but here's a detail that I don't think anyone has ever noticed in Yonder or Horizon and some rambling about the Yonderverse:

Clint finally pulled his fist back and Loki immediately put his hands down, then smoothed out his shirt cuffs with precise, fiddly movements. His cufflinks were gold and shaped like lightning bolts, Natasha noticed for the first time. (Yonder)

“Overrated,” Loki said dryly, rising to his feet and slinging his polearm over his back again. Except for the weapon he could have been prepared for a magazine photoshoot, in crisply-pressed slacks, green silk shirt, black waistcoat, tie, and suit jacket, gold glimmering not only from the beads in his hair but also from his curving tiepin and lightning bolt cufflinks. (Horizon)

Which is Loki's lightning bolt cufflinks, which are obviously a nod to Thor, parallel to Thor having Loki's helmet on his vambraces in The Avengers. Yonderverse Loki loves and misses Thor very, very much -- he absolutely thinks Thor is dead and doesn't expect him to come back in Yonder at all. Immediately post-IW in this 'verse (as the flashbacks in the last chapter make clear), Loki also thought that all the Asgardians had been wiped out; that there was no one left at all, just him. A lot of what he's doing when he's building New Asgard, and later ruling it, is constantly running basically the mental equation of "what would Thor do? okay, I'm going to do that," because he doesn't totally trust his own instincts anymore. As we know from canon, what he does is not remotely what Thor does (aside from the foundation of New Asgard, but I think Yonderverse New Asgard and canon New Asgard may actually be in different locations in Norway), but he has no way of knowing that and he's very much working off this idealized memory of Thor and to a lesser extent Odin and Frigga.

Post-Yonder this creates a big problem of Loki and Thor not actually agreeing on a lot of things, because Loki's idealized picture of "what would Thor do?" is not in fact what Thor would do in many cases. The Asgardians who survived the Snap, both in New Asgard and on Vanaheim, have one view of Loki (and while the Asgardians on Vanaheim are less hero-worship-y than the ones in New Asgard, it's still there, despite Loki's cynicism in Yonder) and the Asgardians who did not survive the Snap do not have that and may actually have it going more towards Thor (because he saved them from Ragnarok). So that results in intra-Asgardian conflict as well as conflict between Loki and Thor as they disagree on things, which range from "I did not build Idavoll to share with my dead brother, I built it for me to live in for the next six thousand years, I was planning on using that room that now has to go to you so you are not sleeping in my room" to "oh, wow, we have completely different opinions on Asgardian laws about child custody, huh." The Thor in Loki's head -- who has been there, dead, idealized, for five years -- is not the real Thor, even though he knew the real Thor for a thousand years. Loki grieved and loved his brother very, very much and five years on in Yonder is not over either his death or watching Thor be horribly murdered in front of him, but he was in a position where he had no choice but to deal with that and keep going. He is not the Loki that Thor remembers from Ragnarok by Yonder and that's something that's very hard for both of them to deal with, on and off. (Which is also true for Sif, who has not seen Loki since TDW; it's a huge shock for both her and Thor to see a Loki who's really comfortable in his role as King of Asgard in his own name, as Allfather, as a much-loved absolute ruler. The Valkyrie, on the other hand, knew Thor for like a week but has worked very, very closely with Loki for five years now. It's weird for everyone.)