#i need to talk with iii asap

[earth-orbit]

this picture must be cursed because every time i see it, the bulge on iii's pants gets bigger than the last time (gunshot)

[mialicassi]

i was rewatching GoTNF and... WHY. IS. EVERYONE. SO. SQUISHABLE??!??@?@?@??@?@?@

like, the gang is looking so smol and I WANT TO SQUISH THEM ALL UNTIL THEIR EYES BUG OUT (in a good way)

AND THE BABY DRAGONS??? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i never wanted to squish smth so bad in my entire life. can you imagine hugging a lil baby gronckle??? JUST THINK ABOUT SQUISHING THOSE LITTLE CUTIES

AND CUDDLING LIL ZIPPLEBACKS??? THEY HEADS ARE THE SIZE OF MY HANDS I COULD SQUISH THEM SO HARD

lil nadders and lil mounstrous nightmares are literally friend shaped. how could i not think of squishing them???? its not a want. ITS A FREAKING NEED. I NEED TO HUG A BABY DRAGON RIGHT NOW 😭

[crepesculum]

do u ever think about having a tiny papa to carry in ur pocket or bag because i do.

[sofasoap]

A quiet moment - Lastochka

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish) + Taskforce 141 + König

Summary: Little Anya getting all the love from her family.

Part I , Part II, Interlude,Part III,Part IV,Part V,Epilogue, Night

WARNING: Mature theme, talk of pregnancy, swearing, slight hint of sexy time

Thanks to @homicidal-slvt for planting ideas into my brain. this whole series is all for you :)

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Nikolai can hear you groaning over the headset, in discomfort. But he couldn’t see what was happening. They are flying over a danger zone, he can’t afford to lose his concentration nor tear his eyes off from the sky, no matter how much he wants to turn around, and check up on you physically. He has noticed you haven’t really been yourself in the last month or so. Often wake up groggy, exhausted all day, and losing appetite. He is seriously starting to worry there might be something wrong with you. You are currently bending over, head in your hand and legs curled up in your seat, trying everything to distract yourself from the nauseating feeling that hits you in waves every time there is a slight turbulence, shaking the helicopter.

“Um… Uh, You ok??” König asked, trying to pat you on the back clumsily. Letting out another groan, you threw your headset to the side, curling up even further into your seat, into a foetus position. Slightly panicking, König reached into one of his side pouches, where he brought out a little tin container. Opening it up, he took out a piece of candied lemon ginger from there and stuffed it into your hand. “Ah, have this, I , um, get motion sickness sometimes, and um, this usually helps.” he stammered as he explains, encouraging you to put the candy into your mouth, hoping to give you a bit of relief. Turning your head slightly with watery eyes, you nodded your head, and quickly putting the candy into your mouth. Getting slight relief from the tanginess of the lemon and spiciness of the ginger, you turn onto your side, leaning your head against the back of the pilot seat. “Give me comfort to have my wife as close to me as possible.” Nikolai said once when you question why he always insists on you sitting right behind him. Now you are glad you have something to lean against, other than trying to lean against König, which you are sure the giant soldier probably will get a panic attack if you do that. With a shaky hand, you pointed to the med kit on the other side of the helicopter, mumbling something. König leaned closer and asked you to repeat.

‘.... ondansetron…..med kit… pass it to me please…” you said weakly. You knew you should have taken it this morning before boarding the flight.  But went against it because you didn’t want to fall asleep during the mission. 

Quickly unbuckle his seat belt, passing other soldiers as he stride over to grab the medication you needed, and pass it onto you. Breaking the foil and putting it under your tongue, try to let your mind wander, and think of everything else other than the breakfast and bile that is threatening to come back up, at the same time praying the anti-nausea medication will kick in ASAP.

König took his headset off, leaning closer, trying to be discreet, “Not trying to be nosy but um, my wife.. She had similar symptoms when she was… you know.” motioning with his large hand, indicating a large stomach. 

You feel like someone has dumped a bucketful of cold water over your head. Shit, you forgot that might be the possibility. But… you have a birth control implant. That’s when you realised, it has expired. For quite a while too. CRAP.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Fidgeting with his hand as he reassured you,you nodded your head with gratitude, thanking him for looking after you.  He pressed the small tin box with the candy into your hand. “Here have this, just in case um, you need it again.” Opening your eyes wide, you shook your head, trying to decline.

‘It’s ok. I can make more.” “You, you made this?” Gosh, that was a surprise.

Twiddling his thumb, he confessed, “I .. I like baking. And um, carving.” Your eyes brightened up. Two of you spend the rest of the flight discussing recipes, and exchanging your famous chocolate biscuit recipe for his Oma’s mouth watering apple strudel recipe. It was a welcoming distraction until the helicopter came to land.

Nikolai found you lying down across the seat, lazily waving goodbye to the soldiers as they departed for their mission. 

“Hey.” You greeted your husband with half closed eyes, the medication has finally kicked in, so has the side effect.

Frowning as he gently moves your head into his lap and caresses your face, “What’s going on little bird, I am seriously worrying about you lately.” “Nothing. Just getting a bit air sick.”Closing your eyes as you enjoy his loving touches, and trying to dismiss his concerns. Not wanting to fuss about you and letting him in on the news until you are a hundred percent sure. There is a chance maybe you ate something that doesn’t agree with you, or maybe you are getting a bit old, and motion sickness gets you easier now. But deep down, you are pretty certain the cause of the discomfort. “You never get motion sickness. At least not when I am piloting.” He puffed with pride. “I know how your brain works, little bird, tell me what is wrong.” He can always read your thoughts. When you are hiding something. When you are uncomfortable. When you pretend to be strong. “I really don’t know.” You are scared. Scared by his reaction to a possible new addition to the family? Or are you scared that after finally working your way back to active duty, you will be pushed back to sitting in the barrack again, that feeling of uselessness coming back to you again. Taking a deep breath and circling your arm around his waist, “Maybe it’s something I ate. I’ll get it checked out once we are back at the base.” 

“Promise me you will?” He gave you a look of warning. He knows you too well. You will put things off until the last minute or until necessary.

“Yes love. I will.” burying your face into his abs, taking in his scent, giving you some comfort. Not yet. Just to keep it to yourself a little bit longer..

“Positive?????” “Positive. Congratulations.” 

Chameleon passed you the pregnancy stick and blood test result. “Now you know what that means right?”

Your shoulders drop. Rubbing your forehead, you know you have to stop all active duty pretty much from now on. You are going to miss looking after the team from the frontline. 

“How did you do it?” You asked after staring at the piece of paper in front of you. Signing off another few documents,she replied,“ Well,I guess my situation is slightly different, I rarely get sent out, so it was easier for me. But.” passing the prescriptions to you, “You know how much John fusses over things, he was texting every hour, if they weren’t going dark,asking how I was feeling.” She sighed. 

You can just imagine the Captain hovering around his wife, nagging away like a mother hen. Letting out a snorting laugh, you took the documents from her. 

“Anyway, go get some rest. I’ll file the reports to the HR tomorrow. But it’s up to you to break the news to the boys now.” She smiled. You gave her a big hug before you left the infirmary, back to your shared room. You don’t know how long you have sat there for, zoning out, thinking of ways to break the news to the team. Or to your husband first. Also trying to fully come to terms with the situation, another big twist to your life. The two of you have briefly talked about the possibility of starting a family when you first got married. You were quite reluctant to jump into it after trying to recover from your ordeal, and Nikolai never mentioned anything again, and you assumed either he wasn’t too keen to bring up the subject or he had given up on the idea. You heard the soft click of the door unlocking, before seeing Nikolai stepping into the room. Calling out to him with a wavering voice, lips trembling, trying hard to contain the tears that are threatening to drop from your eyes. Those damn hormones are already wrecking your emotions, you thought. Why are you even crying???? It’s a happy occasion isn’t it? That self doubt starts to appear again. What if he gets angry at you? What if he doesn’t want the child at all? On that thought you bursted out crying. Nikolai immediately closes the door, taking a few steps forward and kneeling in front of you. “What’s the matter Lastochka, was it bad news from the doctor? Please tell me?” He gently wraps his larger hands around yours, encouraging you to talk. 

Trying very hard not to hyperventilate, you closed your eyes, taking a few deep breath before Letting out the news. “I .. I can’t be with you anymore….” you hiccuped. You feel his hand tighten around yours. Opening your eyes, you can see flashes of fear before staring at you with hardened eyes.  

Realising your mistake, you quickly explain, “ No. nono, that came out totally wrong.” you quickly pull back his already retracting hands, guiding it towards your now slightly showing bump. “I can’t go on missions with you boys anymore. Lady Fortuna is officially off active duty now.” you let out a weak chuckle. “ and you.” Patting his hand and softening your gaze at him, “Have to start learning to be a Papa.” He was still staring at you, you couldn’t figure out his emotion at all. You chewed on your lip, waiting anxiously for his reaction. Pulling one of his hands away, his eyes dropped down to your stomach, slowly caressing it as he started mumbling words in Russian. Your eyes fill up with tears again as you see him showing tenderness towards the unborn baby.

“...Boy or girl?” he whispered. Shaking your head. “I am not sure yet. I am going for the scan in a few days.” “How far along?” 

“I am guessing I am still in the first trimester….” You didn’t want to say, but you had a pretty good idea when this happened…. 

That night was the first time he showed his full possessiveness towards you. Filling you up again and again.“That Сука has tainted my beautiful Lastochka with their filthy hand…” “I have told you before, you will only crave for me, no one else.”

“My beautiful bird,sing for me again.. I know you can do it..” 

Your face starts burning when you think back to the night. “From that covert mission?” he chuckled. “We were.. Quite busy that night.” standing up, he moved himself to sit beside you, and pull you into his lap. 

“Thank you.” He whispered as he slowly and gently kisses you.

“For what?” you murmured.

“Carrying our child.” You chuckled. “Hey, you were part of the production as well.” you teased. “It’s only the start of the journey. We still have a long way to go.” Caressing your bump, he cooed, “Well, can’t wait to meet you, our little nestling.” 

“COME ON Anya, come to uncle Gaz!!!” “Nonono Anya, come to your REAL uncle here!!” 

“....... “ Ghost sits there, opening his arm, staring down at the baby without a word. “Ignore those .. What is the word, bampots? Come to Poppy Price.” Little Anya crawled forward, looking at each one of them, confused. She slowly moves towards Gaz, who is waving one of his latest crochet dolls at her, trying to lure the baby. Anya pouted a little, and looked at her Uncle Soap, currently flashing a brilliant smile at his niece. Anya hesitated, and eyed Ghost, and her eyes went wide with tears in her eyes, and started quickly crawling towards Price. “There there.. It’s ok.” Price cooed and patted the poor baby as she burst into tears, startled by Ghost’s balaclava. Ghost hung his head, shoulders down, feeling defeated. Gaz and Soap gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “ Maybe lose the balaclava and just wear a face mask next time…” Gaz suggested. Stuffing one of the dolls into his hand, “Or maybe try this.” 

The four men were in quite a shock when you called them into Price’s office days after your discovery. 

Sliding the ultrasound picture onto the desk. All four of them stared at it, looking up to you, and back to the photo, and seconds later, Ghost, Gaz and Soap erupted into an argument over who is going to be the godfather to the baby, while Price rubbing his temple, irritated at their antics.

You shifted yourself off base towards the end of the pregnancy, getting ready for the birth.  Price helped you to find a place, close to the base, easy for you to go back and forth for work and visiting. 

The soldiers at the base also have secretly named Ghost Gaz and Soap “Cerberus” as there is always one of the men walking around with you all the time like a guard dog whenever Nikolai isn’t around to look after you.

Little Anya was definitely spoiled by his godfathers and uncles even before she was born.

König and his wife sent a baby gift in a huge crate. You found all sorts of things there. Blankets and winter clothes his wife has made, wooden toys and baby mobiles with aeroplane and helicopter hanging off it made by König. Even a rocking horse. You were really touched by the thoughtfulness of the couple, especially his wife, who you never met before.

This fired up Gaz’s competitiveness when he discovered all the clothing and toys König had sent. He came over one day with a huge bag, inside was all the crocheted dolls of everyone.

Price with his signature boonie hat and little cigar in his mouth, Soap with his mohawk, Gaz with his Union Jack cap, Nikolai and his aviator and headset, and there is you too, in a little combat gear. Konig in his hood and gears. He even asked for photos of your parents crocheting new doll figures afterwards too. 

“You made all these?????” Your jaws drop as he keeps bringing over new knitted items. Now you know where all your previous birthday and holiday gifts came from, you always wondered how everything fits you perfectly with all the unique patterns. Gaz has really surprised you with his unexpected handcraft skills. Soap and Ghost practically decorated the whole nursery full of stuff from the cot and changing tables and the dressers and any supplies you can name? They bought it all.

“.... Boys, you realise you have bought a half room full of nappies that I possibly wouldn’t ever finish using?”

“Hey, they did say newborns pop a lot, better to be ready than sorry.” Soap shrugged his shoulders. “And my niece deserves the best. Doesn’t she??” he bent down and started talking in a baby voice to your very ballooned up stomach. You can see Ghost nodding in agreement behind Soap. 

Price and Chameleon, being experienced parents to two adult kids, provided you with tips and guidance when you needed the most. Especially Chameleon, she knew the hardship of being a soldier’s wife, looking after the children alone. She was there when your water broke, to calm you down when you were crying and worrying Nikolai and the men wouldn’t make it back in time to witness the birth of the baby.

Anya MacTavish ( Nikolai and you decided she would take on your surname, as it was dangerous for Nikolai’s true name and identity to be attached to the child ) was born a healthy baby, inheriting her father’s more calming nature, making minimal fuss when she landed in this world. 

Nikolai tries to be there for the two of you as much as he can. Between assisting the SAS and running the mercenary group, he is a busy man. His heart often drops every time when he comes home, his daughter will clutch onto you, in fear and looking at him as if he is a stranger. It breaks his heart. He decided he needs to start pulling back, spreading his workload to his second in command and spending more time with his family. 

Ghost looked down at the doll he was holding, thought hard for a second, before he went ahead and removed his balaclava. You have only seen once or twice in rare circumstances the real face of Simon, but you didn’t expect him to remove the face covering just for your daughter. Hiding her face in the crook of her Poppy Price’s neck, she turned her face slightly as Simon tried to call out to her, waving awkwardly the little doll of himself. She looks at him, eyes going wide again, trying to make sense of who this “ new person “ is, before reaching out for the doll, Price slowly passes Anya over to Simon, while she is distracted. She let out a little yawn as she fiddled around with the doll, eyes fluttering and fell asleep snuggling in Simon’s arm. Everyone smiled at the scene in front of them.

You can see mixed emotion in Simon’s eyes. Happy that both him and Anya are slowly getting comfortable with one another. Your brother-in-arms deserves every bit of happiness after all the trauma he went through with his life, and maybe his goddaughter will bring him that tiny bit of joy. You gave Nikolai a nudge, reminding him to guide Simon upstairs towards the nursery to put the baby down in the cot to sleep.

“Still sleeping?” Nikolai asked in a hushed voice, as he came up and checked his little princess after all the men had returned to the base. Peering over the cot, he can see she’s holding on tight to the Ghost doll in her arm, while sucking on her thumb as she sleeps.

“Sleeping like a log. Nothing is phasing her even if the ceiling collapses.” You are fortunate Anya has been a very easy baby, sleeping through the night most of the time. A very deep sleeper too. “Just like her mother.” “Hey, I do wake up when I sense danger.” You pouted, referring to the safe house incident where you didn’t even realise Soap and Gaz had entered the apartment.

Nikolai bent over and gave his little baby daughter a kiss on the cheek. Thinking back when he proposed to you. He thought he was lucky enough just to have you in his life, now he has a tiny little precious bird he will give all his life to protect her from all the evil of the world. Letting out a yawn. Exhausted from entertaining the guests you were ready to sleep.  You let out a little yelp as Nikolai scoop you up into a bridal carry. “Time for bed for the big princess.” Kissing you lightly on your forehead, carrying you back towards the bedroom. Ideas pop up in his head. Maybe another baby wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

141 boys often volunteer for babysitting duty.  They were a constant presence in their goddaughter’s life growing up. There is also the constant battle of “ who is Anya’s favourite” going on between the men.

When Anya got married, she insisted her Papa and all her uncles and Poppy walk her down the aisle. 

Anya often changes which doll she is in favour of, one week might be Ghost, next week might be Gaz, or hugging both Price and Soap’s doll to sleep at same time. You tease Price and Chameleon if they are getting clucky again, or they are wishing for a grandkid, Price paled thinking about his little Grace being married so young. You tried out König’s recipe of Apple strudel. And it is heavenly delicious. It became one of Nikolai and Anya’s favourite desserts. 

Yes, thanks to  @siilvan , I am so inspired and might write another chapter in regard how Anya was produced *wink wink * what exactly happened the night of the covert mission (Let’s hope the muse of Smut will inspire me bit more this time )

taglist:

@homicidal-slvt,

@roosterr @preciouslittlecreature

@siilvan @floral-force @kaplerrr

[faeleur]

the fourth and second to last (fr this time) part of the series is here! this is going to be a long one so buckle up. thank you everyone for the love and hopefully you enjoyed :) stay tuned for the official official final! not proofread because i just wanted to get this out asap so be warned

part i. part ii. part iii. masterlist

leviathan x idol!reader: part iv

your heart pounded as you finally reached levi’s room, guilt festering in the pit of your stomach.

you’re not quite sure what he wanted to tell you, or why he left so suddenly (but then again you completely fumbled your excuse), but you knew that something was up

as hypocritical as it was, it felt like he was hiding something from you, and you felt confused, saddened, and kind of pissed off at the thought

what reason could he have to ever hide something from you? (… ignoring the hypocrisy ofc, this was about him rn 🫶🏻)

you raised your fist to knock on his door, but hesitated.

that was all he needed.

“i know you’re there. i don’t wanna talk to anyone right now, so just turn around and go back to your boyfriend or whatever.”

inside, levi was still sitting in his chair, but his game was long forgotten as he was completely consumed by his sin.

envy coursed through and seeped out of every scale of his devil form, his pupils narrow slits, his breath hot and ragged, his fangs bared.

all he could think about was your betrayal. you were his. his alone. didn’t you know you had promised yourself to him the moment his insignia appeared on the nape of your neck? did your pact mean nothing? did all these months mean nothing?

levi’s seething voice snapped you out of your daze, and you bit your lip again, the confusion building. what did you do wrong? even if it wasn’t true, did the thought of you having a boyfriend set him off?

you knew he was more susceptible to certain thoughts and behaviors as the avatar of envy, but regardless, you wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“sorry, but i’m staying, whether you decide to open the door or not. we need to talk.”

you sighed, gently resting your head on his door, closing your eyes. “please,” your words barely above a whisper.

you wanted to talk? fine, he’d let you talk.

his door opened suddenly and you were yanked inside, the entrance slamming shut behind you.

levi’s claws dug into the soft skin of your arm, threatening to draw blood as you struggled in his grip. he towered over you, his snake-like eyes void of all emotion as he stared down at your form.

“then talk,” he hissed.

you cried out in surprise and pain. he was visibly upset, but you didn’t know why. what was happening?

“levi, i don’t know what i did, but i’m sorry—“

“you don’t know? you seriously don’t know? oh, it’s just so convenient to forget about my mark on your neck?”

your eyes narrowed in confusion. what was he talking about? “you mean the pact? of course i didn’t forget about it, but what does that have to do with anything? can you please just let me go and we can—“

“it means you belong to me, y/n,” he snarled as his grip tightened. “it means you betrayed me by going out with some other guy, some human—“

“levi, stop, you’re hurting me!”

“do i mean nothing to you? was this just a game? were you just stringing me along this whole time just so you could go and break my heart?” his claws clamped down.

you screamed as scarlet dripped from your arm onto the floor, and the sound of your pain drew levi’s attention to where his claws sank into your skin.

his world stopped as he pulled his hands away, the tips covered in your blood. the sound of you crying. the smell of your fear.

the envy, the rage, dissipated in seconds, now replaced with horror. what had he done?

he stammered as he shrank, reverting to normal. he was going to vomit.

his ears started ringing as you backed away from him, trembling.

what had he done?

he reached his hand towards you in a feeble attempt to do something, anything to remedy the situation, but when you flinched away, his heart broke even more.

he hurt you. he didn’t even mean to, he was just so jealous—

why was he jealous? because you betrayed him—

how could you have known if he never told you how he felt? you should’ve known better—

but you didn’t. it wasn’t your fault, it was his. it was all his.

levi felt like he was suffocating as the walls of his room closed in on him, and he sank to his floor, stuttering.

when he blinked, his room was cold and empty, your warmth long gone. you had left ages ago.

on the opposite end of the house, you frantically knocked on asmo’s door. “a-asmo?”

after a moment, the 5th brother opened his bedroom door, yawning as he lifted his eye mask. “how dare you interrupt my beauty sl—“

his jaw dropped when he saw you cradling your bloody arm, and within seconds, he was patching you up on his bed as quickly as he could.

he was about to ask who would dare to harm you in this way, but when he removed a shimmering purple scale from the inside of your wound, his heart dropped.

at the sight, your sobs started up again, and he pulled you close to embrace you, rocking you gently. “y/n, sweetheart, i’m so sorry— what happened?”

you relayed your story, his eyes widening after every detail. and when you were done, your wound clean and bandaged neatly, he looked away, biting his lip. he knew something you didn’t.

“asmo?” you asked upon noticing his guilty expression.

he sighed, brushing the hair out of his face. “well…”

“well?” you gave him a look, and he smiled sheepishly.

“i don’t want to interfere, since this is something levi should be telling you rather than me, but… when he saw you had a boyfriend, it caused his sin to spiral out of control. jealousy, y’know? he wasn’t in his right mind. i’m not trying to excuse his behavior, and he definitely needs to apologize, but i doubt he wanted to hurt you. once you’re in that headspace… it’s hard to think clearly. it’s like your sin controls you, and all you can do is watch.”

you bit your lip. that made sense, as demons were certainly more prone to emotional outbursts, but that didn’t explain the meaning behind his words.

“what about all the things he said? he was really possessive…”

“well, that’s because he… uh… he felt threatened. you’re his best friend, and maybe he thought that you were replacing him… especially since you’ve been distant this past month and because you’re leaving at the end of next week, he got scared you wouldn’t or didn’t care about him anymore. and with your pact? that kind of makes it worse, given how special it is and all.”

you nodded, feeling saddened. why on earth did you have to make that excuse? you’d have to clear it up eventually, but you weren’t sure if telling him it was a lie was a good idea right now…

while levi’s outburst had scared you, now that you knew the likely reasoning behind it, you wanted to go find and reassure him (again). you had your own apologizing to do, as well.

asmo noticed the signs and rested his hand on your arm before you could get up, looking at you sympathetically. “i know you want to go find him, but give him a little space to cool off. especially after he scratched you up… i can imagine that he feels really guilty. he might not be ready to face you yet.”

you nodded, pulling the demon into a gentle hug. “thanks, asmo. for everything, actually. you’ve been a huge help.”

he returned the gesture, patting your head. “of course. be sure to visit me again before you leave. you deserve to have a makeover befitting your temporary departure from the devildom,” he beamed.

you smiled in return, sliding off his bed, ready to leave. “thanks, asmo. good night!”

“nighty night~!” he called, and once you disappeared down the hall, his door slowly shutting with a gentle creak, he grabbed his nearest pillow and screamed into it.

“these two are killing me, i swear…” he whined. “levi, please grow some balls already, for the love of diavolo.”

you headed to your room, tuckered out for the evening. friday was fast approaching, and you needed to rest for your last day of classes before finals.

determined, you brushed your teeth, did your skincare routine, changed into your favorite pj’s, then hopped into bed, waiting for sleep to take you.

… except it never did. you were lying there for what felt like hours, but when you rolled over and looked at your phone, only about 30 minutes had passed.

then another. then another.

by now, a good couple hours had went by, and it was well past midnight. there was no reason for you to be awake. usually, you were out like a light the minute you were under the covers. why wasn’t it working now?

you knew the reason. but asmo said he needed space…

you looked at your phone again. 2 am. was that enough space?

yes, you decided. it was.

before you knew it, your feet were carrying you down the hall towards levi’s room.

soon you reached his door, and readied yourself to knock, but realized something peculiar — his door was ajar.

you cautiously stepped across the threshold, peering around the corner. “levi…?” you called softly, your voice echoing ever so slightly in the aquarium confines of his bedroom.

you heard some shuffling before levi’s head rose from within his bathtub, the tear stains glimmering on his face like little jewels. his eyes widened, as did his mouth, but when he saw your bandaged arm, he let out a soft exclamation of horror.

“y/n, i’m so sorry—“ the apology slipped out rapidly, the words jumbling together.

“i didn’t mean to, i swear, i didn’t… didn’t realize—“ he lowered his gaze, sinking back into his tub.

“i’m sorry. i lost control, i don’t even know why… it’s stupid, i’m stupid. i’m pathetic. you must hate me…” he whimpered, sniffling as the tears started up again and as he began to curl back into himself.

while he rambled, you slowly moved closer to where he rested, and it was only when you were leaning over him, casting his form in shadow, did he stop and look at you.

why were you coming to him? why weren’t you running away?

he spluttered as you began to step into the bathtub, and he pressed himself against the wall opposite you in an attempt to create distance in the narrow space.

“what are you doing?” he squeaked as you leaned towards him once more, flabbergasted and flustered. “aren’t you scared of me? i’m a monster—“

his breath hitched as you pulled him into a gentle hug. “i’m not scared of you, levi. or upset. you’re not a monster,” you murmured, looking up at him.

he blinked in shock, and despite his whining as well as his protests that he was gross and disgusting and pathetic, he had pulled you close faster than he’d like to admit.

he could only hope that you wouldn’t notice how his heart was practically beating out of his chest.

“you’re none of those things. you’re my best friend,” you reassured him, and when you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest as your arms were wrapped around his waist, he was trying to fight the tears that were beginning to sting his eyes... and stop his poor heart from exploding.

“i’m sorry, levi… for being so distant and not being completely honest,” you looked at him with all the sincerity you could muster. “you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were so worried about me.”

levi nodded, but realized what you were saying.

“wait, y/n, no, i should be apologizing—“

“you already did—”

“no, i mean really apologize,“ he sighed. “i’m sorry for invading your privacy and just barging into your studio, for one… you were, err, obviously in the middle of something important. and i’m sorry for my outburst—“ he winced at the thought, glancing at your bandaged arm. “that was horrible, and completely unfair, especially since you didn’t do anything to warrant it, really… and i hurt you too, god, i’m just so path—“

you shushed him. “cut that out, you’re not, although i appreciate it. and hey, at least i’ll have something to remember you by now,” you wiggled your eyebrows. “imagine what everyone will say when i tell them i survived a brutal demon attack,” you teased, giving him a smug and playful look.

levi rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “are you trying to call me a weakling? that i was so easily defeated?”

you snorted. “well, in my defense—“

“i’m the naval captain of the devildom, y/n, i’ve downed thousands of ships in my lifetime, i could easily take you down if i wanted to,” he huffed, averting his gaze.

you shook your head slightly, chuckling. “yeah, i bet you did, mister.”

when he turned to you again, his heart jumped and lodged in his throat. the way you were looking at him with those eyes of yours, sparkling and half lidded…

his gaze lowered to your lips, plump and glossy from your impeccable care routine… he so wanted to kiss— wait, no, you had a boyfriend, what was he thinking? cut it out, he internally scolded himself, forcing his gaze back up.

“levi…” you hummed, and he blinked, caught by surprise.

“i think you wanted to tell me something?”

i love you.

“y’know, the super duper important thing that had you barging into my dance practice?”

oh.

“i, uh… well…” levi cleared his throat, remembering his original intentions. “no point in hiding it anymore, so…”

he smiled at you, the giddiness returning. “i got tickets.”

you stared at him, confused. tickets?

and then it hit you, and when he saw your jaw drop, his smile widened.

“that’s right. don’t ask me how, but i got soundcheck, barricade, and backstage.”

you opened your mouth to speak, but he brought his finger to your lips as if he was shushing you, and he chuckled a little.

“i thought i just said to not ask! anyways, the best part is, you’re going with—“

you pushed his hand away. “i’m not.”

levi blanked, smiling to divert the wave of hurt and confusion. “what? what do you mean?“

“i… i can’t. i’m already going with someone else…”

his heart sank. he could feel the wave of envy start up, and he felt sick, but managed to choke out “is it your boyfriend?”

“no, it’s not. i’m going with my group of earth friends… we’re gonna be traveling together for the break.”

“oh… that’s— that’s cool, yeah.” he was doing everything in his power to stop a flare up again.

“i’m sorry, levi. that sounds amazing, but i’ve been planning this trip with them for… so long now, it wouldn’t be fair to cancel on them.”

“yeah… i get it,” he scoffed, looking away, the bile rising in his throat… but what he really wanted to say was, “what about me?”

“yeah…”

“so… that’s it, then? you’re leaving after exams?”

you nodded, biting your lip.

“i see.”

and then it went quiet.

“… levi?”

the silence was deafening.

“levi.”

why wasn’t he responding? why won’t he face you?

“leviathan. look at me, please.”

whether it was on his own volition or because of your pact, he quickly turned his head, his eyebrows furrowed as tears streamed down his face.

you could feel your heart breaking, and quickly pulled him into a tighter embrace, tears forming in your own eyes as you placed your head right above where his heart rested, tuning in to the rapidity of its beat. the guilt was already eating you alive, but this was the metaphorical truck that finished you off.

levi couldn’t find the will to do anything but sob into your hair, holding you against his chest.

“i’m just—“ his voice broke. “i’m not mad… i’m just gonna miss you… so much,” he lied. well, it was only partially— he was definitely going to miss you.

you nodded, closing your eyes. “i’m gonna miss you, too… more than you know.”

“okay, well, i’m gonna miss you the most, soooo… there,” levi laughed into the fabric of your shirt, and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes.

“yeah, yeah. is there anything else you wanna tell me while we’re at it, you big crybaby?” you felt him huff. “why do you care so much about my boyfriend, anyways?”

levi suddenly stopped sniffling, and you felt him tense up. bingo.

“i… i’m just surprised you never told me, is all! i’m your best friend, y’know? i should be the first to know about these things, duh.”

“mmm, i’m not convinced.”

levi thought for a moment. should he really tell you? would he really go so low as to homewreck?

the short answer is yes, he would. but not right now. this was a nice moment, and he wanted it to last a little longer.

“so… anyways,”

you bursted out laughing. “very smooth, levi.”

“shut up. i was only going to ask what you wanted to do… seeing as this is one of the last times we can properly hang out, i guess.”

“i’m STILL not convinced, just so you know.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n.”

the bickering went back and forth a little while longer before the two of you decided on a proper agenda: scavenge for dessert and one last binge viewing of galaxea content before it was time to hunker down for finals.

except… you really didn’t want to get out of this position. not only was it cozy, but his bathtub was also really slippery and ridiculously hard to get out of without stepping on each other.

that, and you could tell levi didn’t want to move, either. besides, it was so warm… and his hoodie was so soft… and his breathing was so relaxing… and the way his fingers brushed over the pact mark on the nape of your neck made you feel fuzzy…

before you knew it, you were waking up to the sound of his alarm. your body was sore, and you groaned as you struggled to move your limbs, but paused at the sight before you: levi, face soft and peaceful as he snored away blissfully, arms wrapped around you tightly as he hugged you close to him, your legs intertwined. most surprisingly of all, his ruri-chan body pillow was long forgotten, probably being slept on top of.

you couldn’t help but to trace his jaw with your fingers, softly carding them through his hair once you had mapped out his face. you felt heat burning your cheeks, and suddenly, there was only one thing on your mind.

has he always been this pretty? or did you just never notice before?

you felt a foreign emotion bubble in your chest, and you had to stop before… you didn’t know what, exactly, but you couldn’t risk it. plus, his alarm was starting to annoy you. how come he hadn’t woken up yet?

“levi,” you said a little too loudly, and his eyes shot open. you jumped back a little in surprise, but a smile tugged at your lips afterwards.

he rubbed the sleep away from his face, groaning in annoyance. “why did you… wait.”

he blanked, looking back at you. you were here. in his arms. in his bathtub. was it morning? was he dreaming?

he stared at you in surprise, his cheeks visibly turning the shade of a ripe tomato, and small giggles escaped you.

he looked down, only to see you were both fully clothed. of course. why wouldn’t you be? ahaha…

his alarm was starting to seriously get annoying, and he grumbled as he dug his phone out of the pile of pillows beneath you, turning it off the minute his hand closed around his device.

you both had a full day of classes and studying ahead of you, and knew you had to go and get ready, but… even after all of this…

you both weren’t ready for this to be the end.

due to your conflicting schedules, you’d be the first one done and would be leaving while levi would still be testing, so this was goodbye for the next few months.

you gazed at each other, communicating everything wordlessly, and as you pushed away, beginning to climb out of his tub, he grabbed your hand, squeezing it.

you squeezed it back, smiling as you started gathering your things, slowly making your way to the door.

you heard him sniffle again, and suddenly felt him pull you into him from behind, embracing you tightly. you didn’t even hear him get up.

“goodbye, y/n. don’t forget about me, okay?”

you turned your head to look up at him, the moment bittersweet. “i’d never forget about you, levi. how could i?”

stay, he wanted to murmur in your ear. stay, and let me hold you a little longer. stay, where it’s just us two. where i can have you all to myself. where you don’t have to leave.

but he didn’t.

the two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, before he suddenly let you go, gently pushing you away.

“alright, now go. before i start crying again,” he whispered, watching you sadly as you walked to his door, opening it.

the faint light from the hallway cast your figure in a golden glow, and the last thing he heard from you before you were gone was, “i’ll see you in a couple months, okay? i’ll find you at the concert, i promise. look for me.”

the days blended into each other, and the afternoon you were supposed to move out, levi kept himself holed in his room. he was supposed to be writing an essay, and as the timer slowly ticked away, he heard the muffled sobs and goodbyes of his brothers. mammon’s dramatics and asmo’s fussing stood out the most, but he could also pick out lucifer telling everyone he’d be back shortly as he would be dropping you off along with diavolo.

proctored test be damned, he closed his eyes, attempting to hear any trace of your voice one last time… but all he caught was the loud shutting of the door. you were gone.

as you were escorted to the portal gate, you expected to hear from a certain someone. they wouldn’t just let you leave, you knew they’d message you.

and when your phone buzzed, you peeked at the screen, a little giddy... but it wasn’t from who you expected.

the last message you got on your phone before exiting the devildom wasn’t from levi, but from asmo.

“you’re not being honest with yourself. i know you love him,” was all it read, chills shooting down your spine.

lucifer and diavolo’s voices blurred into the background as you shook their hands. what was he talking about? you were about to respond, but when you looked back up, you were standing in front of your company’s building, your devildom phone gone from your pocket, like it had never existed at all.

you were home.

[teyamsatan]

Illicit Affairs | Oneshot: The Moment I Knew

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: It's your 17th birthday, and the gift you get from Neteyam is not one you would have ever thought of - or wanted.

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 2k words

A/N: I have been writing a lot of memories for the next few chapters of The Archer, and I found myself writing about the fated 17th birthday, which makes an appearance in Chapter VII of Illicit Affairs. I'm doing a lot of writing atm, I am trying to get the fifth chapter done ASAP, but enjoy this tiny story and insight into the day Neteyam left 🥰.

What do you say when tears are streaming down your face in front of everyone you know?

And what do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn't show…?

And they're all standing around me, singing Happy Birthday to you

But there was one thing missing and that was the moment I knew

You woke up with a big yawn and an hopeful disposition today, your 17th birthday. You wanted to say it was because another year had passed, or because you knew people would be giving you gifts and attention and all sorts of good food today, but if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it was because you got to see Neteyam again.

Neteyam was a great gift giver. He paid attention, and he listened and he cared, so every year, his present was always your favourite. Ever since around your tenth birthday, when he first gifted you an identical bracelet to his, he always managed to surprise you with a perfect gift that made your heart skip a beat - or several. You haven’t seen him since that day, in the clearing, when you sang him that song, and hoped he knew what it meant. You didn’t get to confess the way you wanted to, you cowered at the last minute, but you hoped your birthday courage would allow you to finally tell him the feelings that have plagued you for probably years now. 

You were scared. You knew deep down you probably shouldn’t even do it - I mean what was the point? It’s not like you could ever be together anyway, not like he would sacrifice his title and his future mate, the future Tsahik of the Omatikaya for you, a human girl. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t allow him to, so why were you even confessing? At the least it would make everything awkward and at the most it would ruin the best thing that has ever existed in your life. You couldn’t even decide what would be worst - him not reciprocating or him reciprocating? Cause either way it’s hell inbound, and you had enough of that in your life. 

Despite everything, though, every nagging thought telling you not to, you wanted to, needed to finally tell him. You would deal with the consequences as they come, but you couldn’t be a coward any longer. If you had to act like you didn’t have a heart attack every time he got close to you, every time he touched you, every time he looked at you in that way, the way that was reserved only for you, you would go crazy forever. 

You were happy to see Kiri and Lo’ak, coming by, as they always did, with a big basket of fresh fruit and food, your birthday feast, and staying with you for the day, as they always did. When you were younger, much younger, you used to celebrate in the village, with Jake and Neytiri, but those days are long gone. Later in life, you celebrated in the forest, climbing and hiking, wild and free, but those days were long gone too. Nevertheless, no matter how much you have changed, the care they had for you never diminished, and neither did their desire to celebrate you in whatever form you felt you were able to withstand. 

The oldest Sully’s presence did not go remiss in your mind, every moment without him accelerating your worries that something was wrong. 

“Hey… where’s Neteyam?” 

You saw the siblings exchange a quiet, strange look. Neither of them looked at you as Kiri talked.

“He’s with the hunting party today, he couldn’t get out of it.” 

“Today?”

“Yes…”

“But he never has anything going on on my birthday, Jake always makes sure of it.” 

“I don’t think it was fully up to dad, Angel… I’m sure he’ll be back later.” 

You saw Kiri flash a look of anger towards her brother, and your heart sank a little at the interaction. This was weird, but you thought maybe he was preparing a present for you that would take extra time. It has happened before, but it was always worth it in the end. 

The hours passed, and you mostly finished the basket full of food between the three of you, splayed careless on some blankets you brought in the hub as a big projector was playing some of your favourite films. Your mood soured a little throughout the day, regardless how many sweet fruits you have injested, regardless of the calmness of your surroundings and the friendly faces who were attentively watching the latest picture playing on the screen. 

As it finished, the two siblings got up, and Lo’ak awkwardly scratched the hair on the side of his head. 

“Angel, we have to go, it’s past curfew and we’re -“

“-going to get in trouble with Jake, I know.” You sighed deeply, walking with them to the entrance.

“Thank you for hanging out with me, guys. I had a good time. Thank Neytiri, Jake and Mo’at for the food, and thank you for the gifts, I already love my new bracelet!” You said, twisting your wrist so the beads on the beautiful thread sang when pushed together. 

“You’re very welcome. Happy birthday, again, and we’ll see you in a couple of days.”

You didn’t know if you should push it, and, as they were almost out the door, you found your voice again.

“Hey… if you see Neteyam, tell him I’m still waiting. I’ll probably run some experiments, so I’ll be up for a while… in case he still wants to come.” 

You didn’t want to see their expressions, too scared to read something that will hurt you on their faces, so you just shut the door and left. 

You paced around the labs and hallways and your room for the rest of the night, terrified as you were that you were going to miss Neteyam’s soft knock. He always thought of everything, was always too scared to wake anyone up, or to let anyone know he was sneaking way past curfew to stay with you for the night, before he always had to sneak off again prior to his family getting up and figuring out he was gone. You didn’t want him to be outside, in the cold and dark, with apex predators lurking at every corner, waiting for an opportunity to feast on a particularly good-looking blue boy. 

It was dawn when you made it back to your room, feeling emptiness envelop your being, like your soul had been washed out and taken to the cleaners. You sat in your bed, back against the headboard, and thought about the last month. You haven’t seen Neteyam in all that time, ever since that day in the clearing. He had a weird look about him after you sang him the song, but you thought that was just him processing what you were trying to say to him, you thought it was him scared, as you were, about the prospect of more, about the possibility of everything changing between you. You thought he felt the same way, you felt like you were both on the same page - it felt to you that you had both fallen for each other in time, your love blossoming from the friendship that you have always shared into more, much more. Now you realised it wasn’t that which gave him that look. It was most likely the opposite. He knew what you were saying, and didn’t feel the same way. 

You haven’t seen Neteyam in all this time. You thought he was training, but he wasn’t. He just didn’t want to see you. He didn’t want to see you anymore. 

The way your heart shattered at the thought took your breath out of you, like you got punched in the gut. You didn’t know what to do with this pain, that was so feral and so severe, you genuinely felt like you were going to die. You lay in your bed, gasping for air, grasping at your chest, trying to will your heart to slow down, to piece itself back together, but to no avail. Neteyam was gone. Neteyam left you, without even saying goodbye. Neteyam watched you confess, and decided he wanted nothing else to do with you anymore. You lost him, like you lost your mum and your dad, lost him after 17 years, and you were alone again. 

You were alone again. 

Neteyam felt throbbing in his head as he woke up that morning, that continued the whole entire day. He took the day off today, knowing he would be unable to focus on anything, knowing that today, you would definitely realise what he has done. It was your birthday, one of his favourite days in the world. It was a day to celebrate you, the light in his life, his Atan, of course he loved it. And now he had to live with knowing his present would be his absence, and that he would have to live with the consequences of ruining this day for you, and the consequences of breaking your heart. His has been long broken, since the second he walked out of that clearing knowing he would never return. After eclipse, he saw his siblings returning with an empty basket, and his heart hurt at the still open and unhealed wounds. 

“Brother, are you sure about this?” 

He sighed, not being able to look at his baby sister. 

“Yes, sister, I am sure.”

“She asked for you.” Lo’ak said. “Multiple times.” 

“She said she’ll still be waiting, in case you decide to drop by later.” 

“For what is worth, I think this whole thing is stupid. We’re her only family, and now you’re gonna take another person away from her, bro?” 

Neteyam winced at his brother’s words, that cut him like a dull knife, painful and rusted, that will never heal, but fester and linger, forever. 

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Brother, it’s past curfew.”

“I don’t care, tell mother and father I’m taking Seze out.” 

He left in a hurry, unable and unwilling to register the muffled words spoken to him in a blur. He found his ikran immediately and took flight, knowing exactly where he had to go. He made it to the lab in no time, knowing the ride like the back of his hand by now. 

He quickly hurried towards the door, thinking he will abandon this whole endeavour and beg for your forgiveness. It would take a while, but you always forgave him. And he could finally tell you that he loved you, that he has been in love with you for so long he’s lost track, and he could kiss you, the way he’s wanted to for so long, and everything else you can just figure out as you go along. 

But then, every step he took was a memory he would never be able to ever erase from his mind, every step a recollection of times he’s been here because you were hurt or pained or near death, all because of him. He swore he could still see your dried blood on the stairs leading up to your door from where you were 13 and you fell down his ikran. He could see your limp form in his arms when you collapsed after you found your dad. His hand reached as far as a couple inches from the door before he stopped, and with shard of glass protruding in his already broken heart and tear drops staining his cheeks, he dropped his hand and left. He didn’t go far, though, circling around the big enclosure until he found the window he knew was looking into your room and just sat there, collapsing on the floor with his back against the cold metal, listening to the sound of music coming out of your recorder.

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

He stayed there, on the cold hard ground, listening to the music playing until dawn, until his heart was empty, until his soul was spent. Until he knew he lost you - forever.

[abyssruler]

i found your filo diluc so

perhaps … what about filo childe 👀

filo childe who plays basketball with his friends every weekend. he’s a varsity player!! lets you wear his jersey and warmers, always dedicates his shoots to you. searches for you in the audience and blows you a kiss while he’s in court. the two of you are known as that couple in campus. definitely a league of legends and valorant player. streams them live on fb and makes you watch and cheer him on even if you have no clue what’s going on.

he comes from old money. one of those babies whose parents gave super long fancy names to. ajax childe tartaglia josephino miguel antonio mabini-rizal iii.

would pay for everything. he doesn’t believe in kkb and will always insist on paying when you’re out on dates. sometimes, random grab or food panda drivers will arrive at your house and deliver food, saying it’s already been paid for. ofc it was childe. he loves to spoil you.

he’s your personal driver!! brings out his best cars whenever he take you out. it doesn’t even need to be an errand that involves him. going out with friends? he’s taking his keys and speeding to your house to drive you to your meet up place. need a ride home? he’s there asap. childe will never let you commute. bat ka pa sasakay ng jeep o tricycle o bus kung may porsche naman siya?

introduces you to his family before you even start dating. talking stage palang kinukwento ka na niya sa kanila as if kasal na kayo. would absolutely give you his grandmother’s ring as an anniversary gift. if the two of you ever break up, his family blames him and says he should do everything he can to get you back. mas trato ka pang anak kesa sa kaniya.

his family would still keep in touch with you even after you broke up, always dropping hints here and there about how much they miss you and how great you and childe looked together. teucer once said that if you aren’t gonna get back with his kuya then you should wait for him to grow up so you can date him instead.

childe, on the other hand, resorts to old traditions to win you back. serenading you outside your house (muntik na siya mahuli ng barangay tanod kasi akala adik siya), chopping blocks of wood on your yard (di mo alam kung san siya nakakuha ng kahoy), etc.

you laugh throughout the whole ordeal because he looks so goofy. naka barong tagalog pa siya every time bibisita siya sa bahay niyo. your family adores him. in the end, after much time and effort, he does win you back.

[limitlessscion]

u liked this post https://www.tumblr.com/cderiva/752388311352557568 so imma go ahead and ask: what are 5 pictures you'd find in gojo's phone, what's gojo's last sent text, what's gojo's last received text, what apps does he have on his phone, and if he uses the notes app what is in there?

5 pictures:

i. A really fancy looking dessert, with multiple pics from several different angles. It's hard to tell exactly what it is other than the general vibe that it might be sweet? It's composed of many components, perhaps an ice-cream base topped with various beads of different colours and a lattice of something that could be glass or sugar. The angles give a feel more as a study of the dessert than a straight appreciation of it to share

ii. A selfie, pointed down from above at a scene of Satoru on the sofa, a sleeping Suguru held to his chest with one arm to keep him from rolling off onto the floor. Suguru dons a casual modernized kimono and his hair is splayed over the both of them like a dark veil. Satoru sports a light dress shirt, the buttons undone and open messily where it is pinned between their bodies. A calm joyful smile graces both their faces

iii. An open field on the campus of Jujutsu High. Fall colours mark the background but the focus is solely on a knot of students— or more precisely, one student, surrounded by 3 seniors writhing on the ground that he'd beaten singlehandedly. Kinji Hakari had some incredible potential, even not counting his cursed technique

iv. A pile of mutilated flesh, grotesque growths sprouting from putrid piles to combine with each other. That it appeared at all in the photo was an indication that it was not made solely of cursed energy. The camera is focused on a particular sigil carved into an exposed stretch of skin too large to be of only one human's back. Just routine investigations work mid-mission

v. A view of the ocean, taken from what seems to be a small island jutting out of cerulean waters. The sun hiding lazily behind broken thin clouds, a strong breeze written in the foam of crashing waves. Okinawa was a reminder of happier times, and this island was uninhabited, far away from any traces of non-sorcerers. Could be a nice spot for a picnic, once a see-through barrier is put in place to guard against the wind

Last sent text (note: Hiei is Suguru's contact name in his phone )

[To Hiei 2:00am ] plane lands at 4am [To Hiei 2:00am ] u still got the clothes i left last week? [To Hiei 2:10am ] i can come over directly [To Hiei 2:11am ] lmk asap i miss u

Last received text

[ From Shoko yesterday ] I need to talk to you about those pictures you sent, I have a theory on what it is but you're going to have to get a sample for me

Apps Google Maps LINE Facebook Facebook messenger Uber Neko Atsume Pokemon Go Sudoku

[lucyandthepen]

last night on earth - i . | kdy

part ii, part iii

you soon find out that there are more dangerous things than the flesh-eating undead during a nationwide implosion. 

pairing: doyoung x reader verse: zombie apocalypse au rating: M for horror themes only ! genre/s: romance, horror/suspense warnings: brief but stil present mentions of and sometimes depictions of violence, mentions of and possible minor character death, language word count:  4.2k

author’s note: i have an unhealthy attachment to this fic and the plan i have for it so please don’t come for my neck !!!!!!!! i simply had to ;~;

It starts off at four in the afternoon with a series of emergency phone calls.

The first is a woman reporting an intruder in her house — nothing the department hasn’t handled before, and it just seems like an isolated criminal case, so they dispatch you and your partner, Youngho, to quickly investigate the situation. Even with Youngho’s less-than-lawful driving speed and his fulfilment of his desire to dramatically enter a house by kicking the door down when no one answers (because he’s always wanted to do that), you find the place lacking in commotion when you arrive. You don’t even have time to contemplate how eerily quiet the house is when both of your phones go off, and you hear the deputy chief’s voice, uncharacteristically ragged, yelling down your line.  

“You two better get your asses back to HQ,” he roars. Even with the volume of his voice, you can’t help but notice the phones ringing off the hook, trills constantly overlapping and being cut short by frantic co-workers answering them two at a time. “We’ve got emergency calls from all over the city, and now the mayor’s on the other line screaming at us to lock the whole city down.”

“A city lockdown?” You’re still expressing your shock to him when you feel yourself being dragged out of the house by Youngho’s unnaturally firm hand. It’s likely he’d gotten the same call from someone else, since he’s urging you to hurry up and get in the car, and he even helps you along by pushing down on your head and practically shoving you into the passenger’s seat. “What the hell for?”  

“Fuck if I know,” he says curtly. “Just hurry already. Chief wants to see everyone, but he wants to talk to both of you, too.”

“But we — ” the deputy chief hangs up before you can get another word out, which is just as well since Youngho had just floored the gas pedal, and the police car revs so loudly you actually feel your ears pop a little. “What the hell — who called you?”

“Chief,” Youngho answers. “Says we need to get back ASAP.”

“Did he tell you why?”

“Yeah, and while he was at it, we had some tea and crackers, and chatted about the weather.” He throws you a patronizing look. “He barely got five angry words out before he hung up.”

“That’s pretty weird.”

“For the chief? Not really.”

You end up agreeing in silence, watching the houses zip by from your window. Everything looks scarily empty in this area; it’s mid-afternoon, though, so you don’t really make much of it, since most people tend to be out for work or just coming home from school at this time. You’re not even really sure why you feel like the street seems so eerie, but you end up brushing it off, allowing your mind to focus on more substantial things, like the sound of static that strengthens and weakens while Youngho fiddles with the police scanner.

That plan of distraction works out for about five minutes, at which point you see an old lady on the sidewalk get tackled to the ground by a flurry of limbs.

Your extremely loud curse word harmonizes with Youngho’s, and the back of your head hits the headrest of your seat hard as he slams down on the brake, the car skidding sideways as its inertia is interrupted and it quite literally swings off course, barely missing a lamppost. The both of you scramble out of the car, pulling out your handguns and positioning them, Youngho’s hand a little steadier than yours, even if you don’t really care to admit it.  

The elderly woman is on the ground, her grocery bags a few feet away from her arms, which are limp for the most part, save a finger or two twitching helplessly in their attempts to reach out at her fallen food. Her attacker, probably a middle-aged man in a business suit, is hovering over her, almost motionless in a pool of her blood that’s slowly creeping past his knees. You’re the first to cock your gun — you can’t imagine why he wouldn’t just run away, but you also can’t imagine why a sensibly dressed human being might go out of his way to attack a harmless old woman.  

Youngho’s gun clicks a few seconds after yours, but the man doesn’t seem to be fazed by it; in fact, he hardly seems to notice, especially since, upon slightly closer observation, he seems to be retching or something over her body. You can’t even mistake it for crying because the sounds are just downright disgusting. Even Youngho’s face, as you observe from the power of peripheral vision, is contorted into this slightly uncomfortable expression.  

You dare to step closer, and Youngho follows suit, but the guy doesn’t budge anyway, too busy probably vomiting over the poor lady to care. It takes all of your willpower not to wrinkle your nose, but the distressingly wet sounds coupled with the new stench that assaults your nose makes it pretty difficult.  

Your partner takes the initiative to speak, because you’re not entirely sure what to say at this point. “Put down whatever weapons you have and step away from the body, sir,” Youngho’s voice is just as steady as his hold on his gun, which is extremely admirable considering that neither of you still have any clue as to what this man is up to. “Any sudden movements or attempts to flee will be met with gunfire.”  

You think the man might start running (as is expected) or might freeze up and beg for mercy (as is also expected), but you don’t expect him to wheel around and sneer at you with blood dripping down his chin and a pearl from the old lady’s necklace trapped between his teeth. The front of his shirt has been ripped open, too, and there are scratches and wounds — bite marks??? — on his skin, many still fresh. His expression isn’t angry, or terrified, or guilty; all you can see on his face is the raging desire to rip the both of you apart with his bare, bloody hands, and he makes this guttural, almost animalistic noise to confirm your theory.  

At this point, neither of you can be expected to stay composed, so both of you let out a panicked appeal to the Lord, turn to instinct, and fire your weapons.

There’s a reaction from him, sure — your bullet hits his chest and Youngho’s hits his shoulder, and his torso kicks back at the force of the impact. He doesn’t topple over, though; he stays snarling at the both of you, maybe a little more perturbed, while the two bullet wounds leak out more blood, even though he doesn’t seem to care about that either.  

“What,” Youngho breathes out; he’s lost a lot of his nerve, and he’s lowered his weapon about halfway, his disbelief taking over. “What in the fuck.”

The sound of Youngho’s voice causes the man to turn sharply to him, teeth bared as wide as his mouth can allow. You don’t know what possesses you to shoot again, but your finger presses against the trigger before you can make a better decision, and the bite of the bullet against the side of his neck causes him to change his target, his murky eyes now fixing on you. He moves himself off his knees in a strangely limp fashion, at which point, the idea that something really isn’t right hits you, and you pull at Youngho’s arm, which has once again raised quickly in response.  

“We need to go,” your voice is weak. “Like, right fucking now.”

Youngho stepping back is enough to confuse the guy, who’s now looking back and forth between the both of you like he can’t decide which one he wants to start ripping apart first. The decision doesn’t seem to matter to him at the end of the day, though, because he eventually puts it aside and decides to charge at you with his arms out, screeching horribly, a trail of blood and saliva still hanging off his lips.

“Oh fuck me —“ Youngho manages to wheeze out, panickedly grabbing your arm as well and dragging you back towards the car. You both fumble with the door, and it doesn’t help that you can just hear the growling getting closer. A stream of swear words fills the car as Youngho shuts his door and tries to insert the keys into the ignition.  

“Hurry up,” you half-scream. “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up —”

“Will you shut up?” He snaps, finally jamming the keys in and bringing the engine to life.  

“Youngho, go!”

“Shut up!”

Both of you yell when you feel something hit the driver’s side of the car; it rocks a little, and you see hands clawing at Youngho’s window, nails screeching against the glass; Youngho manages to hit the gas just as the man’s snarling head comes up into view, and you feel a slightly less heavy thud hit the vehicle again as you leave his battered body behind in a frenzy of smoke and dust.

Nothing much passes between you at first; you’re both breathing so heavily it kind of feels like you’re sucking up all the oxygen in the car. Both of you start (Youngho almost hitting the brakes in full again) when you phone starts ringing loudly.

“Where the hell are you two?” The deputy chief bellows; you can actually hear his enraged breathing punctuate his question for a brief second. “I told you to get back here right away!”

“Sir, there was this man that attacked —“

“I don’t care what you two have been doing! Just be here in the next five minutes!”  

Even the click of the phone sounds angry, and you let out a groan, tossing your phone onto the dashboard. “Whatever your speed is, double it.”

Youngho is still evidently a little shaken, and he complies without question on the matter, knuckles white as his hands grip the steering wheel. “What the hell just happened, ________________?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Mental illness? Drug abuse, maybe?”

“He was eating her. He’d chomped down on half of her neck muscles in a minute.”  

“I don’t know, Youngho,” you repeat. “Did you ever read that story about that guy who ate another guy in Florida? He was sick, too.”

“Yeah, but he was shot to death by the police,” he reminds you. “Which didn’t happen, in our case.”  

“Bulletproof vest?”

“He was bleeding, dumbass.”

You decide to let the insult slide given that it was obvious the both of you were dancing around on your last nerves. Crimes for personal gain were one thing;  petty theft, home intrusions, bank robberies were all pretty standard and, while unlawful, hardly gave you the kind of creeps you were experiencing now. Homicides were a slightly separate issue and much more disturbing, but you’ve never had to deal with a case of someone killing someone, eating them, and then refusing to die when shot. Until today, that is.  

The both of you sit through the rest of the car ride in silence, Youngho weaving his way through the traffic jam at the rotary. He ends up having to turn on the siren, but it’s of little help, and the deputy chief ends up having to call you again right as you’re pulling up to headquarters. He’s red in the face and about ready to gnaw your heads off when you rush in, breathless and apologetic.

“Can it,” he puts up a hand as you open your mouth to explain. “I don’t give a shit. The whole city’s on lockdown process right now. The mayor wants our full attention on keeping civilians safe from the crisis.”

“What crisis?” Youngho bursts out; he hardly talks over authority, which sort of shocks the deputy chief into a brief spell of silence. “Sir, we’ve just seen a man murder an innocent woman on the street, and he —“

“There are bigger issues than that,” the deputy chief snaps. “Big mobs and mass riots have been cropping up all over different districts. Jung-gu and Mapo-gu have already shut down. We’ve been getting reports that a horde of people have just started raiding and attacking establishments and offices. The entire subway system closed down, too. We’ve already sent out some people to help mitigate the fighting and a bunch of other corporals to watch the city borders. It’s like the fucking purge, except no one knows what started it.”

“So why does the chief need us?”

“Ask him; he’s on the phone with the mayor right now, but he’s also been looking for the both of you. Maybe the next time you two are given an order, you’ll actually do it on time.”

He jerks an annoyed thumb to the chief’s office before stalking off, pulling out his phone to yell at someone else. You and Youngho exchange a look of alarm before walking up to the door. A silent, irritating debate on who should knock ensues, ending when you smack his scissors away with your paper and rap shortly on the door.

“Come in.”

You turn the knob and let the door swing open before pushing Youngho inside; he makes a noise of protest he has to kill immediately when the chief looks up with a grim face, putting the phone back in to the receiver.

“I’m assuming Deputy Choi has already told you about the situation in the financial district.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond simultaneously.

“The mayor wanted the city locked down, but he also wanted some of our people looking after the officials in this city. I’m sending out some of our corporals to guard the senators and high-profile conglomerate business owners in Gangnam-gu.”

Once again, you and Youngho turn to each other in confusion. “But, sir, we’re not —“

“What I’m getting at,” he silences Youngho, who sucks in his lips so far back he looks like an elderly man. “Is that I’m promoting you two. We’re short a few people who can do this job right, and you’re two of the only officers with enough years under their belt to qualify to some degree.”  

“Um — thank you, sir,” you start. “But I still don’t understand what —“

“Do either of you two know anything about Kangwoo Logistics?”

“They’re a shipping and manufacturing company,” Youngho answers, then adds under his voice. “My refrigerator is from them.”

“The family that owns it is living in Gangnam; their CEO is living Gangnamdaero and their COO is in Apgujeong. Flip a coin to see who goes where; I don’t care. I need both of you stationed at their doors and ready to gun down anything that might come after them.”

“What’s coming after them, chief?”

He sighs deeply as he picks up the phone, avoiding your eyes as he punches in a number and responds to your question.

“Hell.”

You and Youngho play two rounds of rock, paper, scissors that ends in a 1-all win. He calls dibs on keeping the police car, and you get to choose Apgujeong because it’s closer to your parents’ house, just in case you need to take a shower or raid their fridge, or something. The entire building is going to be locked down as well since all the other officers are on duty, and you’re both cleaning out your locker when the deputy chief comes around and tosses two bulletproof vests at you.  

“Promotion gift,” he says gruffly. “You’re gonna need it.”  

“Thank you, sir,” Youngho picks up his and slips it on; it sits well on his shoulders, whereas yours almost drowns you. You throw the deputy chief a distressed look, and he has the decency to respond with a sheepish one.  

“We didn’t really have a lot of options on hand. You can just pad it out with an extra shirt.”  

“Sir,” you tug off the vest, setting it on top of your bag. “About this afternoon — Officer Seo and I were hoping to bring it up with you.”  

“What about it?”

“We saw a man attack an old woman. At first we thought it was just a…” you pause; you don’t even really know what it seemed like, let alone what it was. “We thought it was just a random murder, but when we got closer he —“

“Attacked you?” You nod slowly. “What did he do? To the old woman.”

“He was… he was… eating her, sir. It looked like he’d taken a bite out of her neck.”

You expect the deputy chief to look shocked or, at the very least, disgusted, but all he does is sigh heavily, like he’d gotten really disappointing news. “It’s been happening all over the city. People randomly attacking others; and they all end up acting like rabid animals.”  

“But what is it, sir?” Youngho pipes in.  

“We don’t know. No one really does. Which is why you have to keep a good watch out. The chief’s going to have your ass if anything happens to them.”  

“They’re not politicians or anything,” Youngho, who’s been admiring his reflection surreptitiously in his locker mirror, finally slips off the vest and stuffs it in his bag as well. “What makes them so important?”

“Beats me. But the mayor asked for some of our people to be sent over to them, so that’s what we’re doing.”  

He ushers you out, reminding you to keep your phone lines open at all times, and you and Youngho pile into the car once again, setting off for Apgujeong. You hardly hit any traffic now, which is fine time-wise, but it’s also not normal for Gangnam at this time — couple that with the fact that most places have closed shop.  

“Even Starbucks is closing,” Youngho remarks in some awe. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a closed Starbucks.”  

“Will you focus on driving? We really don’t need another death on our hands today.”  

“Just type the address,” he says snippily, shoving the paper in your face and letting you key in the street name. The GPS rattles out directions, taking you down Apgujeong Rodeo Street and into the more residential parts of town.  

“Jesus Christ,” you press your face against the window, jaw hanging open. “They even trashed the cinema.”

“So we have ourselves some… popcorn-loving cannibals? Like, maybe they use it as a side dish to human flesh.”

“That’s totally disgusting.”

“I was just trying to lighten the mood. I don’t think — what’s his name? Kim Doyoung-nim is going to appreciate his bodyguard not having a sense of humor.”

“Bodyguards aren’t supposed to have senses of humor,” you frown. “And I’m not a bodyguard. I’m a police officer.”

“Yeah, well, starting today you’re a bodyguard with a cool badge,” he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “We both are.”  

“We got a promotion, and you’re talking like this is the stupidest thing that’s ever happened in your career.”

“We got a promotion so we could be babysitters, ___________________,” he sighs, like he can’t believe you’re being this foolish. “Instead of being out there, helping people and saving the world, we have to coddle two rich dudes. We’re going to be going out and picking up their laundry and making sure they eat their vegetables before tucking them into bed. Please tell me what isn’t stupid about this situation.”

“They’re important people; the mayor asked for them to be protected.”

“Because they have a couple of cool boats and have a pretty good name in the kitchen appliances industry?”  

“I — just shut up,” you wave him off, folding your arms across your chest. He snorts, slowing down the car as he pulls into a narrow street with a row of huge houses. The street isn’t actually narrow by nature, but there are so many cars parallel parked on either side of the road that you feel like you have to suck in your stomach so that the police car can fit between them.

“Smell that? It’s the smell of pampered chaebol kids and the leather on their expensive sports cars.”  

“Give it a rest. Pull up here — right here.” You point to a mailbox with gold numbers on its side that match the address on the paper. “I think this is it.”

“Do you need help with any of your stuff?” Youngho calls out as you push the door open, and you wave off his question as you make your way to the trunk, pulling out your bag. You really do need to go to your parents’ place; apart from the vest, you only have one change of clothes and two pairs of socks. You make a mental note to call them about it.  

Youngho rolls down the window as you walk up to the mailbox, sticking his big head out. “Are you going be okay?”

“I guess so,” you adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder and pat your bulletproof vest reassuringly. “I should probably head in now. Let me know when you get to Kim Jungwoo-ssi’s house.”

“Yeah, I will. Let me know if Kim Doyoung-ssi’s house really does have six bathrooms, like I suspect it does,” Youngho laughs, but there’s no real mirth to his voice; it’s just for show, really. His expression softens when you don’t join in. “Don’t die, okay? I’ll kill you if you do.”

“Please,” it’s your turn to laugh, even if your voice is trembling a little. “You know we’re both invincible.”  

“Damn straight,” he ducks back into the car, rolling the window up. You stand on the sidewalk, waving at him, and you see the white of his palm wave back from inside the car as he drives away, trying really hard not to feel like this is some kind of last goodbye.  

You have to take two deep breaths to steady yourself before you walk up the driveway; Kim Doyoung clearly lives a comfortable life, with two sports cars parked in front of his house and a well — who the hell has a well in their damn garden? Maybe Youngho’s right — it’s wholly possible that this monstrously large mansion does have six bathrooms.

What it doesn’t have is a proper doorbell, however; you can see that there’s an intercom system with a camera, and it’s obvious that it would be the way to announce your presence, but you still spend two minutes checking out the door just to see if you can ring a more normal bell so you can avoid having to be seen by this guy without seeing him back. Of course, there’s nothing, so you either have to content yourself with the camera-bell system or knock.  

You can hear the trill of the music when you press the button; a couple of seconds later, you hear a male voice, a lot softer than you’d imagined, come through the speaker.  

“Who is it?”  

“Um — Kim Doyoung-nim? It’s Corporal ____________, from the Gangnam-gu Police Department.”

A soft sigh punctuates the brief and honestly awkward exchange; a couple of minutes later, the door opens, and you find yourself face to face with a young man. In his loose sweatshirt and pants, he doesn’t look like he could afford to pay the rent for one of the rooms of the house, let alone actually own it. Half his body is still behind the door; in the shadow it casts over him, you can barely see his face. The only indication that he is the guy you’re looking for is his question.

“How can I help you, officer?”  

“The mayor sent me. I’m here to protect you, sir.”

He’s clearly taken aback by this information because the door widens a fraction as he lets go of the knob. “Protect… me?”

“Yes, sir. There’s mass rioting going on in other parts of the district, so we need to secure your home right away.”  

He doesn’t respond immediately; you can hear the click of the knob as he turns it — once, twice, thrice. Finally, he sighs again, heavier this time.  

“I’m sorry for making you come all the way here, but you need to leave.”  

It’s your turn to be taken aback now, but you don’t express this feeling as silently; you sputter a little, whatever composure you had slipping off a bit more. “But — sir, my orders were to —“  

“I don’t need your protection,” he says more firmly now. “Good day to you, officer.”  

You can’t even imagine how thunderstruck your expression is when he shuts the door right in your face.  

[call-me-shadowborn]

'Aconite' and Monkshood under Barateon's rule, Wolfsbane on the Northrealm, Devil's helmet on the South, and "Voidflower" was it called on Myar.

Azuriel was fascinated from the moment she first learned about this mysterious plant from Brother Noriel.

And, the very first lecture she was told right then, to avoid it.

Then, of course, there are two sides of the coin - it has a wide range of effects other than severe toxicity to warm-blooded species, HOWEVER, one has to be a properly trained arcanist/apothecary to unlock those.

Next alchemy lesson came, and she was still fascinated by the properties of the plant, that Brother Noriel had to dedicate a special class to the topic.

And it was worth it.

Lesson 1. History:

I.) Aconite it is called after Barateon's attempt to suck out creativity, imagination and fun from everything with a decree - substances, mixtures, ingredients, molecules and the like, has to be called by their 'scientific' name - to 'emphasize realism among the common folk ' as he likes to put it.

"So, instead of 'Monkshood', we got Aconite, derived from itz most prevalent alkaloid prezent in zhe plant : Aconitine."

II.) 'Voidflower' originates from the ancient Aeterna folk from Myar Aranath, because they associated the flowers with 'INVISIBILITY' and the 'VOID'. They knew a method of 'extracting' this 'magical property' of the toxin and infusing it into a subject or an object - but it was risky, results varied on too many factors outside of the subject's control (experience & magical prowess of the enchanter, level of expertise, subject's health condition, even race and many others.)

No wonder both the ingredient and the 'service' was blooming on the black market of Ertorath - although very few aeterna arcanists mastered the enchantment, but nearly every one of them wanted to hack their way to the quick coin.

(Sidenote:

Jeele was one of those few, who actually mastered this ritual, so when Azuriel became a part of his 'family' on Nehrim and told him about her 'adventuring style', it was obvious for him to help her out with this special enchantment.

Not only by the goodness of his heart btw, because they were in desperate need of a new performer, the 'Trickster' as he called it - and Azuriel's unique look and her furtive skillset made her in his eyes a nice addition to their performance.

III.) Other names are indicate the common usage (wolfsbane) or refer to the looks (monkshood) of the plant - nothing extra to talk about.

Lesson 2. Harvesting of the plant.

Not recommended - but if your lives depends on it, always use GLOVES. The toxins are all over the plant, and they can be absorbed by the skin, causing all nasty stuff.

The root contains the most of the alkaloids - but breaks down pretty fast in direct sunlight, so store it in a cool dry place until usage, but better use it asap.

Lesson 3. Usage

1. In medicine, highly trained apothecaries can use the extract (after a very careful and precise neutralizing process of the toxins) for anti-inflammatory and analgesic purposes.

2. More simple and common usage is applying the ticture onto a weapon - commonly ranged ones to poison the target.

3. And the 'arcane-method' from Myar.

"Detailing the usages would eat up a whole new special lesson, and you probably won't need it in practice, but, there is a whole book dedicated to the topic in the Library if your curiosity is still not satiated."

[wild-karrde]

WAITTT--- NOW WERE TALKING ABOUT PERCY?!?!

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III?!?!

I love that man TBH I think your gifs and such were the reason I started watching Vox machina and I'm made cause I finished it like in two days lol

Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for that crackfic it kinda made my day lol. It's the crumbs that'll keep me going till season 2 😅😅

IT IS ABSOLUTELY PERCY TIME AND I WILL TALK ABOUT HIM ANYTIME ANYWHERE. Also, THANK YOU FOR READING THE CRACK FIC! It was truly a blast to write, and it just came about from completely just spitballing strange crossovers with @teletraan-meets-jarvis once upon a time. Overall, I'm quite pleased with how it came out hahaha! And YES I NEED SEASON 2 ASAP.

[muggycuphead]

weird flex but ok i guess pt.3

2

War… Hold up, do we really need a warning for this one? Dunno, but however, watch out for slightly disturbing and kinda…disgusting imagery, trypophobic patterns, as well as ‘necrotic’ designs I made while having funky fever bc o h  m y  g o d do I get a little crazier  every new quarantine day (and at this point it’s coming to be an usual thing for me, big sad). However, most are made no other than for the sole sake of satire, so y’know, no need to get your underwear in a twist

Friday Night Funkin’ BoyFriend’s Hood – AU fanconcept sketches [III]

EDIT 25/10/2023: Updated the traditional drawing with a rescanned, more clean version

**Side note: I’m not going to put any scripts for now, but rather on the following sketchdumps, as they might be explained more clearly

1.-BFH FC 7 – Steinkion

Another old OC comeback, this time being a UnderTale one named Tekion that was like some kind of human-beast with metal claws (100% original donut steel)

…But now he’s a zombie-shroom scientist that has gotten mad due to the power outage to the point of even daring to kidnap a live human to force him in becoming his ‘human battery’

…and as you may assume by me using he/him pronouns for the other person -yes, the poor target for this guy’s lunatic “solutions” is BF, an F in the chat for him would be nice thank u

BTW the reason his clothes/bandages have the ‘transparent’ effect in the digital ver is to show his body traits (his exposed ‘organ’ alongside his ribs especially) underneath for referencial purposes only

2.-BFH FC 8 – Isidro UnderTale OC again, though I never made him public and besides he used to be more of a ‘cameo’ …until now that he now has a ‘position’…well, sort of

Used to be an ‘half-skeleton-half-human’ brave traveller that felt awkward about the possible San(d)s fangirls he would encounter during his journey, he’s now a semi-infected human that’s also a rewarded worm Wiseman/caretaker/tamer

But during this very moment, he’s pissed off over the outage -like if being a trypophobe mess bc larvae and stuff wasn’t burdensome enough oof- so he grows into a impulsive guy that can kinda leash off over the minor of things…unless, of course, you fix the power gap on his place

3.-BFH FC 9 – Grimowra “Rockonna”

Again, old OC

Topic –Steven Universe

Originally known as ‘Greora’, a possible onyx gem that kinda aggressive, I decided to bring her back with a blast, and now she’s one of the hood’s best wrestlers (the champbelt being proof y’know)

But here and now, she’s furious about the outage, one of her reasons being that she would starry in a very important (and expensive, might I add) event during that time, and well…seeing that the light didn’t come back asap, frustration blew into her like fireworks on new year’s eve…she doesn’t even fight fair anymore, so beware, she might try to crack your nuts

I’m talking to u specifically, BF-

Also she basically makes the auto arrows somewhat relevant sooo…props??

You’ll see what I’m talking about in the later, you’ll see you’ll see hehe-

4.-BFH FC 10 – Mendel The medic from before

His name basically relates to my biology classes so y’know

As for his cloak, I initially though these markings on it to be only liquid stains (not blood, just waste and that sort of stuff) that couldn’t be washed off anymore, but since I kinda gave him some military kind of background characteristics (he didn’t actually go to war himself, but he worked on the medical support division for some time before quitting later on), I now have that idea where he would see them/refer to them as a light-colored cammo-styled pattern instead, just for fun

And yes he treats zombie patients too

Crazy I know, but even they need a fix up every so and then; though of course, what we humans would consider hard damage, they would only view it as a mere scratch…unless fire is involved, then it’s panik times confirmed

That also explains why he has some scratches on his body, his face’s clearly being from the most outstanding operation during his professional career…to say the least

What happened? I don’t really know, but sure it had a chaotic patient involved              on it

Overall, he has a stressful job, but he’s used to it

5.-Fahra (MumDaddy’s pet )

Sphynx cats ma duck

He likes being on GF’s legs, very comfy(?)

This was also taken from an old UT OC called Fareonne (ithink…?) who’s a male furry lion (with possible gender dysmorphia cuz yo where his mane brooo) dressed up as a pharaoh

6.-Mummu Ka (MumDaddy’s companion woman 1)

A little bit of Mummu Ka in my life-

This is going to get me cancelled so bad…but I already made this and there’s no going back so ayee-

Still though, humans ain’t allowed to ask for a hook-up in that club so it’s cool (iguess)

7.-Zuu Xha (MumDaddy’s companion woman 2)

Woulditbebadifisaidithinkshesalittlecute-

Also, in case you wonder, in the in-game scenario, Mummu and she are side-by-side with GF on the boombox following the rhythm like her –according to where she leans to might I add

8.-Cranium boombox

wOOAHHOAH spoiler

 no, I won’t tell u anything

…not yet

9.-BF’s icon, but he’s a little sick

Way to welcome your guests, Graveyard…

Justfyithatshowthebadsideofthehoodiscalledokgood-

4

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part I

Word Count: 1,314 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. As always, if I forgot anything, please message me and I will amend this warning ASAP. Note: In my head canon, Frankie has a daughter, I write a bit about this. I understand talking about babies can be triggering or people just don't like kids but it feels weird to say, "Warning: Baby." Feels a bit ominous. Like, it's not a vampire but just... ya know... be warned. Updated Author's Note (5.7.21): This is not a reader insert. At the time of writing this, I wasn't comfortable writing in the second person nor did I feel as though it was appropriate for what I wanted to explore in this series. This series is my absolute baby and it means so much to me. Thank you for reading. 

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

It comes like lightning in the night, cracking through the tree of his spine heavy with years of hurt.

The first time he was tear gassed in the chambers at boot camp.

That time he crashed the chopper, losing twenty-something men all twenty-something years old. Men… they weren’t men. They were babies, he was a baby.

He remembers the time he had a panic attack in the jungle, squeezing involuntarily on… a kid, not the target.

He remembers the woman’s wail, “¡Mi hijo! ¡Mi bebé!”

My son! My baby!

He killed her baby.

“I killed the baby!” He’s up but his heart’s somewhere else, outside his body. It’s beating so fast he can’t even feel it anymore, not sure if he feels anything anymore and then—

Cool hands on his feverish back, he’s so hot she feels like ice and he sighs contentedly. Marrying the coldest girl in all of Texas had its perks. Her fingers wind into his too long curls at the base of his neck, her lips on his shoulder as she shushes him with a kiss.

“Come back to me, Francisco, you’re safe.”

“But I—“ he’s stuttering. Fuck.

“It wasn’t your fault,” her arms curl around his chest and she’s scooting closer to him now, pulling him into her as hard as she can, “None of it was your fault, it’s okay.”

“How can you say that?” The tears come like wildfire as he chokes out, “How can you hold me like this? Like I’m not a monster?”

Her arms pull tighter against his torso, he didn’t know that was possible. He doesn’t know how this is possible, how he deserved this. This woman, this love, this family she had made for him.

“Baby, listen to me,” her voice is hard and warm, honeyed whiskey to his aching ears. Splintered mind. Broken body.

He nods his head in the dark, whispering a soft, “Yes,” around a lump like coal burning through his neck.

“You are not a monster. The things you did, the things you saw, the horror that was inflicted upon you was not your choice. When you put the flag on your shoulder, Francisco Morales, you gave up autonomy in your decisions. You represented men who played chess with your life and you made it out. You made it out and they threw you away when you needed them the most but I’m not going to. Our daughter is not going to. You are not a monster, baby, and we will get through this together.”

“Luna,” he breathes. His girl, his perfect little girl, “Where is she? Is she okay?” He’s still panicked.

“She's in her crib, baby,” her lips press softly to his shoulder again, “Do you want to go see her? Wanna go make sure she’s okay with me?”

He’s nodding again, untangling fingers from hers to swipe at his cheeks quickly. Afraid, every day, that this tear or that will be the one that changes her mind, changes her heart.

She lifts herself, holding steady to his shaking body the whole time. As if he’s the rock that the storm of her life batters against and not the other way around. Her hands find his and she’s lifting him too. His balance is unreliable, he never lets her go, trailing along the hallway to the baby’s room.

It’s quiet, peaceful. His happiest place, painted like a sunrise. He wanted it that way, clouds around her cradle, his baby growing up in the heavens. He remembers the first time he ever went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the very beginning. —————

He was so fucking scared when she came into this world.

He was afraid of marring her innocence with his past. He didn’t want his traumas to manifest upon her upbringing, the way his father’s had his.

That first cry shattered his heart but when she wrapped her tiny hand around his finger, he was whole again.

They named her Luna, because he could always find the moon above the clouds. Could always find his way home.

That’s when he started using again. His fear of fatherhood choke holding him, undoing all his hard work. His therapy, his group therapy, his NarcAnon. He promised himself it would just be once.

Just to get through the day, Frankie.

And it turned into…

The week.

The month.

Six.

Next thing he knew, he was flying high and fucking up. Nose bleeds and slurred words, too fast movements and too fast reactions. He was randomly selected for a drug test.

His license was suspended. He was grounded, under review pending cleanliness of a piss test.

That’s when Leah snapped. His patient, strong wife. She’d said things here and there about his use. Argued about money, “Where's it going, Francisco?” The name she uses when she’s calling him back to her, pulling him into her or, like now, close to killing him. Eyes wide with anger and fear at watching her family fall apart because of the actions of one man.

“I'm not going to beg you to get clean. I am telling you,” the tears streaking down her face, voice raw with contained rage bubbling to the surface, “You were able to do it by yourself once, so get your shit together. Or I swear to god, Francisco Morales, I will walk out that door.”

His eyes haven’t left hers the whole time and he knows she’s serious. She promised she wouldn’t leave a man actively working against his ghosts, she’s soothed more sleepless nights than anybody should’ve, but she never promised to stay through active drug addiction. Could not. Would not bring her daughter up in a home dusted in white powder.

He nods, “okay,” lifting his hat from his head and he is pouring buckets. He’s coming down from earlier but he knows he’s gonna need more soon. And another after that. So on and so on until—

He sees the door slamming on an empty home, shocked still with the future his actions will lead him to.

“I’ll find a meeting tomorrow.”

Her glare bores deep, “you’ll find a meeting today, Frankie.”

He bites his lip, not daring ask for another hit to get through til then.

“Francisco!”

The world comes back into focus. How long had he been staring at everything and nothing? His eyes find hers again and his voice is weak as he says, “My stash is in the box with my dog tags and medals, my first pilot’s license.”

“I know.”

He’s nodding again, of course she does.

“The withdrawals are going to start soon, how should we handle this?”

She crosses her arms, pain stitched through every feature of her face, “I think you should stay with Benny and Will for a while. Until you’re clean.”

So he did.

One week goes by and he sweats with a restlessness he’s sure will bust the very seams of his being.

Two weeks and all he wants is sleep, even with the nightmares.

Three weeks and, Jesus fuck, he’s hungry.

Four weeks and the depression sets in, deeper than he’s experienced since he first started getting help back in civilian life.

Five weeks and he’s… not cold anymore. He doesn’t sweat. He doesn’t feel anything, he can’t concentrate on anything.

Can’t focus on Benny’s shitty fight lessons. Doesn’t even listen when Will practices that fucking speech like he hasn’t given it a million times already; to cadets, to soldiers, to the mirror. The only things he can think about, the only things he cares about, are still too far away.

Leah, Luna, the sky.

He needs all three to be whole.

To be Frankie.

A desperate man aching to be complete and to provide again.

That’s how Santiago Garcia found him.

TAG LIST: @greeneyedblondie44​ @justanotherblonde23​ 

[thekatebridgerton]

wait what’s a special marriage licence? also did they change the actress for eloise? she looks a little different but maybe it’s just the hair

Eloise simply got a better haircut, it suits her face so it looks different. Think of the difference between salon bangs and quarantine bangs. Bridgerton has a bigger budget for S2.

Now Dear Anon, thanks for asking about Special marriage licenses, lets talk about Marriage in 1813, the glorious age of King George III and Queen Charlotte. It was a little more nuanced than Jane Austen and Julia Quinn made it look.

Now please note I am not being completely 100% historically accurate because I did not find actual information on how marriage practices of Georgian England (before 1820) differed from Regency England so I'm going to assume JQ didn't either and she was working using Regency England marriage practices as a basis.

And in Regency England to get married there were these thing called the Banns. if you wanted to skip the Banns, and had some money you got a license, and if you were really, really in a hurry, and had lots of money you got a special license. Or Eloped to Scotland where England laws didn't apply.

the Banns (waiting time: 3 weeks, minimum): The free option, a wedding announcement, that was read 3 consecutive Sundays in a row in church. just go to your local clergy with you and your fiancée's contact details, families and the likes, ask them to read the Banns. At least one of the marrying couple had to be resident in the parish in which they wished to be married in. if one of them was underage they required written consent from their parents or guardians, If the persons marrying came from separate parishes, the Banns were read in both and the curate of one parish could not solemnize Matrimony without a certificate from the curate of the other stating the Banns had been “thrice asked”. Banns were good for 3 months or would be required to be read again. If your fiancé was having second thoughts, the Banns gave them a chance to back out. And a 3 week head start if they wanted to really get away from you.

Common License (waiting time 7 days): This one could be obtained from any bishop or archbishop. This meant the Banns didn't need not be read making the minimum waiting period seven days. Proof of parental or a guardian’s consent must be provided for minors under 21 years of age as well as a sworn statement was given that there was no impediment. This meant that the parties were not related to one another in the prohibited degrees, or that proof of a deceased spouse was given. The marriage was required to take place before witnesses in the parish church named on the license where one party had already lived for 4 weeks. It was also valid for 3 months from date of issue. The cost of a common or ordinary license was 10 shillings to one pound, or 3. which is basically as low as 59 USD to 189 USD. about a week or a month wages if you were a skilled tradesmen.

Special License (waiting period: none): Obtained from Doctors of Commons in London, from the Archbishop of Canterbury or his representative. The difference between this and an Ordinary license was that it granted the right of the couple to be married by a member of the clergy before witnesses at any convenient time or place. Cero hassle, cero wait. When a Viscount says lets marry tomorrow, a special license can make it happen tomorrow. All other requirements were the same sure but, you could get married asap if you were nobility. Because S.L were only available to nobility, peers and their children, and certain high government officials, and Members of Parliament. Special licenses could cost at least 20 guineas (that's around 1.260.00 USD give or take) . In 1808, a Stamp Duty was imposed on the actual paper, vellum or parchment the license was printed upon, of £4 (252 USD) which increased to £5 (315 USD) in 1815. lets put it this way, if you wanted a SL in 1815, it would cost a modern person around 1.575.00 USD.

last option, Elopement, aka Gretna Green (waiting period: also none): Any underage couple without their parents’ consent could run all the way north to Scotland. There, just across the border at Gretna Green (or anywhere, really), they could be married by anyone, it didn't necessarily have to be Clergy. Scotland had few restrictions on marriage at that time. It wasn’t totally clear how legal such marriages were in England, but they were usually accepted.

So if you hear the term Special License being thrown around in a Regency era show, especially by a person who had money and was inlove, then it basically meant they wanted to get married tomorrow and had the money to make it happen. Saying 'lets get a special license' was a more socially acceptable version of 'lets elope'

And that has been the historical side of my Tumblr today. I bet you guys didn't know this. I know I didn't until I googled it. But it's fun to put that in context with what I know about Bridgerton.

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of making any progress on the end of the semester

9:30pm, sunday, dec 5, 2021

i swear i spend so much time thinking about what to say in these and i get very excited to spill all my thoughts and secrets, and then completely run out of time every week. i'm doing this instead of other Necessary and More Important things bc i simply cannot skip again, i have to get this stuff off my chest and close the tabs so here we go...!

reading since the last one of these i wrote, i've finished the book of three by lloyd alexander, all systems red by martha wells, and have tried *so* *hard* to finish the sunne in splendour by sharon kay penman. quick thoughts here include how much the book of three reminded me of narnia in that mid-century, post-war jolly uk children's fantasy, though of course i did enjoy the welsh dimension. fascinating to think about alexander's decision to use gwydion as he does, fascinating to know more about the actual stories and some of the names being played on than i would have if i'd read this as a youth--i wonder how hard it would have been to shake my first impressions of some of these characters if i'd come to this first, rather than the actual PKM? e.g. Arawn, who is much spookier in this book than in pwyll.

my murderbot take is going to disappoint the murberbot fans in the audience because i really zoomed through this first novella, listening to the audiobook, which-- i don't know that this novella worked for me as an audio book! the sci-fi terms and jargon, which is so satisfyingly done in general, was hard to parse and a lot of the world-building was hard to keep track of only listening (and i could rewind to relisten to parts when needed, but i was also lazy). but on the other hand, having a real live voice to bring murderbot itself to life was sort of perfect, given its own ruminations on being a sec unit and what that means re: personhood. it shaped my understanding of the character, sure, but in a way that immediately reinforced all of the empathy i already felt building for this narrator. the only things i have to say about the sunne in splendour are that a) this is clearly not shakespeare's richard iii and i can accept that, finally, b) i really want to know how penman's suggestion of the actual culprit behind the princes in the tower mystery stacks up against the other historical theories out there, and c) all the good things i might say about the experience of reading this book pall before how bloody long it's taken me. i would like to be over now.

watching continued with succession by finishing season 1 and watching the first to episodes of season 2. i spend a lot of this show talking back to the characters, telling them "i don't...think that's true?" when they say things to each other, and avoiding watching decisions that lead to inevitable second-hand embarrassment. currently convinced that kendall is dissociating most of the time, shiv and logan are going to turn on each other asap, corporate espionage and verbal abuse are just love languages for these people. greg is going to be the nhs/sleeper mastermind somehow, i say not having avoided spoilers all that well but having mostly avoided spoilers, and tom is manages to combine being so incredibly self-conscious and also so un self-aware? it's mesmerizing but sometimes i can't actually watch.

also started watching prime's wheel of time, which is a good time since i've read the first three +/- books, ages ago, but don't remember much at all, and so am really well-positioned to have vaguely fond reminiscences stirred up while simultaneously not giving much of a shit at whatever they've changed. i'd like to take this magic system apart with a really fine-toothed comb and rewrite/reinvent everything about it that smacks of gender essentialism, i'd like to queer and/or trans the one power's genders, but mainly as i watch right now i like seeing the pretty people in the pretty landscapes. this show's aesthetic is the opposite of grim-dark, they've turned up the color-saturation and it's just...fun. lan and moiraine are very attractive and their whole Thing is very attractive; it's the intimacy and devotion for me. haven't seen episode 5 yet but excited to keep up.

i finally finished word of honor but this is a long-ass post already so the hot-takes are: my interest in this ended up being solely based on the charisma of individual actors' performances, and in that, i really enjoyed it. shout-out to gong jun and everything he brought to this. put your leading men in eye-shadow, say i! let them be a little feral!

listening bouncing around through lots of different musical tones and styles lately, but the noteworthy stuff of the last week or so was me introducing myself to sunday in the park with george, in order to better appreciate sondheim, and also dipping my toe into patti smith's oeuvre. it's been a time.

playing (and also a bit more listening here) i don't know what level of stress and/or burn-out leads you to getting completely distracted by once-beloved classical music, but i hit it on thursday this week. i stumbled, delighted, onto the fact that the new york philharmonic has scanned and uploaded a bunch of scores to their digital archives, and it was a sudden rush to realize that i had the house to myself and could use the scan of the flute I/II-piccolo parts to play along with a recording of aaron copland's appalachian spring. the recording i was listening to, aurora orchestra, helpfully split it up into the separate dances, which made it easier to follow along in the score--and it turns out, the piece was scored for a 13-piece ballet pit orchestra at first anyway. while i personally do like it from a full orchestra, lush and shimmery, and prefer to treat it as a tone poem without a definite narrative (landscapes/abstract imagery a la fantasia is what i've always heard in it, rather than specific characters), it does dance. those time signature changes are a nightmare, but i feel mostly fond and satisfied by their quirks and misdirections after having just listened to the piece for years, and it was a rush to see them in print for the first time.

https://archives.nyphil.org/index.php/artifact/294a07e6-51fe-41e7-9543-5160b7443296-0.1/fullview#page/1/mode/2up

to my absolute delight, the music librarians apparently do not erase previous musicians' marks in this archive-- breaths, counting, the proof of other hands on these pages. on the last few lines of the flute ii part, there are a series of notes from previous players, the first one mostly scribbled out but still recognizable as some form of 'god help us all', with subsequent notes from the 1970s and 80s with later players agreeing or disagreeing (because of the counting? lol), and...god. loved to stumble on that. between that and getting to try my hand at the solo bits, and experience even this distantly the way those chords come together, sweet never saccharine, occasionally ecstatic but always sincere-- it really salvaged that afternoon.

making yardwork, mostly. is that generative, or just maintenance? it was cathartic, anyway. began to snow just as i was finishing.

working on i'm going to have to submit this diss proposal without written feedback from a couple of these clowns, won't i. fuck.

[luvspence]

and they were roommates

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: reader is penelopes assistant and her and spencer are best friends. these are some of the domestic life situations that they share :)

word count: 798

additional roommate fluff -> II, III, IV

masterlist

——

apartment hunting

“so expensive”

“what?”

you were scrolling through apartment listings at work and spencer was coming by the cave to say hi

“apartments, my lease is ending soon and i need to find a place asap before i have to start sleeping in pens office”

spencer laughs

“well i’ve got an extra room, and it’d be a lot cheaper”

“aw spence thanks, i could never tho”

“why?”

“the idea of living with a boy nauseates me”

he laughed and walked off

“well let me know if that succumbs”

—-

friday night movie marathons

“i don’t know why i really like corny romantic comedies”

spencer was cringing at himself a bit, but he knew he could tell you absolutely anything

you laughed and put on the first chick-flick you saw on netflix and bundled under some blankets

half way through your sniffing as the protagonist is heart broken

“y/n are you crying?”

“maybe!”

you hid under the blankets and spencer laughed

“get out from there”

he threw popcorn at your head

“hey you’re waiting good popcorn!”

———

messy hair

you stumbled out of your room at 7 am, and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth. spencer had beaten you there and he was brushing his teeth as well, his hair was an un combed tangled curly mess

yours wasn’t too different but you still cracked a laugh

“what is it?” he said in between the bubbles of his tooth paste

“nothing just your lions mane”

he spit out his toothpaste and started running his fingers through his hair, which drove you a little crazy

you had a very mild crush on him. mild. that’s what you’d convinced yourself

“is it really that bad?”

“no, no it’s just interesting seeing this new side of spencer reid, spencer reid minus the cardigan and the detanagler”

——

baking

spencer heard the kitchen timer beep and smelt the smell of muffins at 3 am

he stumbled out his room, missing a shirt. he was rubbing his eyes in response to the bright light

“y/n?”

“oh hi spencer, did i wake you?”

“the oven did”

he sat on a stool and stared at you

“what are you doing?”

“baking, when i’m anxious i like to bake”

he smiled, though you had woken him from his slumber, he couldn’t help but stand in awe of how pretty you looked. batter splashed on your cheeks, flour in your hair. apron tied over your pajamas

“are they ready yet?”

“almost they just have to cool”

you waited and conversed

“what are you anxious about?”

“i’m not sure honestly, just was feeling nervous so i decided to convert that energy to making muffins”

they were cool and you handed one to spencer, you two talked and devoured blue berry muffins at 3 am

—-

chores + clothes

“spencer!!”

no reply

“spencer!!!”

still silence

“dr. spencer walter reid!”

he opened his door at last

“sorry, what do you need?”

you were running out the door, you had a lunch date with your friend

“can you sweep? i would’ve but i have to run”

“oh yeah of course”

-

you’d clean spencer’s laundry, finding the little notes he wrote throughout the day

he’d clean your dishes and take your skirts to the dry cleaners

once and a while one of spencers cardigans would go missing and you were obviously to blame

at the same time spencer would steal your headbands to keep the hair out of his face

——-

pennys predictions

“you shouldn’t move in with your best friend, your gonna fall in love with him”

penelope was lecturing you on the dangers of moving in with spencer

“pen i’ll be fine, he’s spencer for crying out loud”

in that moment, you jinxed yourself because a year later you found yourself making his bed, cleaning the apartment and buying him a new book in a desperate attempt that he would notice you

you lived together, you spent every moment together practically, but even through that he still wouldn’t notice you

he came in

“hi y/n”

“hi spence”

you guys settled in for another movie night, another cheesy romcom, spencer favorite. you started inching towards him every so slightly. just like a god damn middle schooler

he eventually wrapped his arm around you, in the most platonic way possible, until the movie ended, it ended with the protagonist getting their happily ever after, and getting the girl of his dreams

you looked up at spencer from his arm, and without skipping a beat spencer leaned in and kissed you

neither of you pulled away for the first minute, eventually you did

“so you have noticed?”

“your behavior is hard to miss”

“okay mr. profiler”

you went in for another kiss, and there you were

in love with your roommate