#kas scribbles

[hunterfromtheabyss]

shu rkgk (17/100)

[sailing-through-hawkins]

saw this post and it reminded me of a snippet I wrote for a crack-ish Kas!Eddie AU idea i had a while ago ft. nobody knowing Steve has demobat venom in him that tells other democreatures he's a friend:

Imagine Eddie coming back as an undead vampiric bat person thing and he's all "oh how you left me behind" and shit and he's surrounded by demodogs and demobats and they're poised ready to strike at his command and -

"Eddie?" Dustin whispers like his heart's been broken. Steve's grip on the nail-bat (he still refuses to give it a name because it's not a person, Robin) falters but he steels himself - the kid is gonna be vulnerable, now more than ever and he's gotta keep him safe.

"Oh Henderson." The thing wearing Eddie's face grins the same way Eddie grinned, with a promise of chaos at his fingertips. "Not anymore."

So Eddie sets the democreatures to attack and Steve shoves Dustin behind him while he tries to fight them off but they overpower him until he's on the floor except -

The scratches and bites aren't happening. He's just - drowning in slobber? And very weird bits of flesh just, like weirdly pushing at him oh god, this is so weird. Steve squints one eye open and sees all the gross creatures nuzzling at his arms and chest like they're just innocent mutant hellbeasts who didn't mean to break the vase.

"Wh - I said attack, dipshits!" Kas yells out and that seems to just...make them nuzzle harder? Steve doesn't know, okay, he's been through a lot and he's just tired. So tired that he doesn't even register how one of the demodogs bumps his hand up onto its closed head (a phrase Steve doesn't and will never fucking like) or the fact that he just...pets it like it seems to ask. The other beasts apparently all really like that and run over each other trying to get under his hands.

"S-Steve?"

"What's up Henderson?" Steve tries not to laugh as one of the littler creatures topples upside down after it tried climbing his leg. He sets it right side up and gives it a big long pet along its back, holding back his shiver at the slimy skin. "Y'know when they're not trying to eat you, these things aren't half-bad."

"You always manage to fuck things up, huh Harrington?" Suddenly Kas is right in front of him, pushing him back onto the ground harshly with a hand on his throat. Steve idly wonders if the guy has a thing for necks. Maybe Steve just has a very targetable one? "You ruin everything, don't you?"

He then wonders if it's the high from not being ripped apart coupled with the excess adrenaline in his veins. There should definitely be a stinging in his chest from the words but he's just...god, he's just so tired right now. The other creatures are making weird, pitiful noises around the two of them.

"There there," Steve chokes out, raising a head to pet at Kas' very angry head. The vicious eyes go blank. "You just needed some attention, huh?"

Steve thinks he hears Dustin spluttering somewhere but his vision is already blacking out. Shit, he's supposed to take care of Dustin. Nope, no time to black out now. The hands, kinda claws really, around his neck loosen and Steve blinks the big splots of darkness out of his head just to open his eyes to Kas or Eddie or whatever staring at him with like...it's kind of what Steve thinks he looks like when Dustin tries explaining his latest strategy for a campaign. Incomprehension? But funnier because Eddie doesn't look like he's trying to understand, he looks like his head is just totally empty, no thoughts. Scratch that, this is hilarious.

"Doing alright, Munson?" Steve coughs out, his voice wrangled from the...wrangling. He continues to pet the hulking figure above him, moving his hand behind Eddie's ear. "Am I getting the right spot?"

The blankness in Eddie's face turns into a bright purplish blush (that means he's still got blood in him, right? or is it some kind of Vecna juice? Ew gross, no, don't think about that) and he scutters back away from Steve, who's once again surrounded by the various monsters as they yip or whatever the fuck sound monsters make. He finally manages to sit back up, no thanks to Henderson, the little shit just watching the whole thing in a corner with a fucking notepad are you kidding me -

"D-don't come any closer!" Eddie holds a hand out as Steve gets himself on two feet, his back against the wall like Steve's the one who was strangling him, oh fuck you Munson. "I have - I'll bring a parade of pain on you, Harrington, I swear it!"

Steve snorts as he pets one of the demodogs, hoping to god it doesn't eat his hand. "Yeah, okay, Kas, sure. You wanna do that now or after you give these guys a bath?"

And Eddie is basically half-angry because NO HE IS KAS HE IS A GENERAL HE WILL BRING HELL UPON YOU ALL, half-smitten because omg hiiii stevie wow do you feel a connection right now because i definitely do i think this is like fate or something

[anthenasikes]

bunch of zeroes escaping that im not finishing

[bttmbunk]

he gon bite you

bonus: 

[tangerineduskbyka]

Scratched Shades

Ripped through colour

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

[beloved-blaiddyd]

just a few scribbles of Cafe Owner!Reader x Yandere Dog!Gallagher. Honestly kinda wanna steal her away from Gallagher she's such a calming presence in my mind wijdjwks

Quick fluff-ish brainrots for an upcoming "WhoDrankIt?" (tentative title) coffee shop comic au utc. (cw: slight mentions of animal cruelty)

And no I'm not spoiling why cafe owner!reader went missing or any other major plotlines in these brainrots lmao

Kakavasha and Reader are very close friends ever since they heard each other complain about how hard getting a visa is lmao. The two of them admire each other's love for their family.

In this au, Kakavasha's family lives and he's happily venturing out to work for his parents' more smooth sailing retirement like his older sister. (Y/n), meanwhile, works abroad so she could be the breadwinner of her impoverished family. In a sense, they're very similar.

The two corporate slaves coworkers, Kakavasha and Jelena (Topaz) are regulars in (Y/n)'s cafe. Professor Veritas would sometimes drop by, not too often, to drink some herbal tea. Often claiming his visits are in moderation compared to Jelena, but when looking at the records in his bank account...

The three of them rarely pay by cash. Thankfully buying a card reader was a worthy investment...

(Y/n) just takes Gallagher to the cafe so he doesn't get too lonely at home.

And it's not a bad move. Gallagher is incredibly friendly, often mistaken as an actual cafe staff. He claims he is, but (Y/n) would correct people pronto. When Gallagher first met Firefly and Caelus, he immediately introduced himself as the cafe's security personnel... Which later earned him a proper taxi back home.

No matter how eager he is, (Y/n) really doesn't want people to think she's forcing her dog to work... Especially such an older looking one...

When getting pissed, (Y/n) would sometimes go to the backdoor just to heartily scream obscenities in a foreign language before coming back with a customer service smile. Gallagher thinks it's incredibly hilarious whenever she screams "HAYOP KA!" (you animal!) at the garbage bin.

Most of (Y/n)'s anger comes from her interactions with Sunday.

Won't go into detail to that yet but if their life was a fanfic, Jelena would tag it as "coffee shop au" and "enemies to ???"

Whenever (Y/n) gets too upset, it's Gallagher that brews something for her. 80% of the time, it goes on the menu. The other 20% are drinks Gallagher refuses to have anyone else taste but (Y/n). The recipes are also gatekept from her so she wouldn't try to tell it. Not that she would, anyways.

(Y/n) takes a very gentle approach to Gallagher. To her, he's no different than a roommate. Back home, it's common for poor families to neglect their pets- and that never sat right with her.

She still feels guilty about the time she had to watch her father abandon newborn kittens in a plastic bag because their family could no longer sustain them.

(Y/n) doesn't like recalling those memories. It's an era they couldn't help, given the economic decline. It's a period in her life where she's forced to mostly eat pure salt and boiled bananas due to their convenience rather than nutrition. Money was out of reach.

... She doesn't want any other creature to go through all that again.

[zorawitch]

Love seeing posts about Animorphs on here simply bc I think KA Applegate deserves the praise. Met her once, she’s a very sweet person.

Picture me, age 10/11. I am abnormally tall. I am very blond. I most definitely have braces and no volume control. I walk up to this acclaimed author at a book signing and immediately start talking about my Warrior Cats fan fiction. My mother instinctively tries to drag me away.

And KA Applegate not only seems genuinely interested, but tells me to keep writing. And for the next two years every time I had writers block I would just go “Katherine Applegate told you to keep writing!” and promptly scribble out the most horrendous stuff known to man.

[ramayantika]

I was in no mood for studying. Every time my eyes glanced at the page of my textbook, I would try to understand the concept, but my efforts were in vain. All the words flew above my head, and my mind was cluttered with a hundred different things.

I was humming a tune with my feet tapping to the beats. My fingers tried to rotate an empty pen flawlessly as my mind raced with thoughts about the upcoming tests, with catchy tunes from Instagram reels serving as the background music.

Sighing, I placed the pen on my open notebook, scribbled with equations and definitions, and grabbed my phone from my bed. I peered outside the window, silently admiring the quiet roads of my society. It was 11 p.m., and I could see a few balconies lit with golden LED lights that looked warm and cosy.

Below my window were green bushes and jasmine plants that were filled with white buds, ready to bloom at dawn. I plugged my earphones into the phone and opened YouTube to play my favourite go-to songs to soothe my mind.

And just like that, my body began swaying to the familiar tunes, and a smile graced my lips. Deciding that I could no longer stop myself from dancing, I quietly locked my room from the inside and unplugged my earphones.

Opening my braid, I let my hair fall loosely down my shoulders. Admiring the curly ends that had formed because of the tight braid, I smiled at the mirror and admired myself in the mirror.

Dressed in a long grey sleepwear T-shirt and black capri, I wasn’t a sight to behold at eleven in the night, especially for someone who had spent all her day studying. I looked exhausted after all the mental labour my brain had to do, but the open hair and the light breeze from the window did make me feel a little refreshed.

Aankhon ki gustakhiyan came up, and I grinned at the mirror. I twirled in the room as gracefully and quietly as I could. Kavita Krishnamurthy’s part came up a while later, and I was ready with katakamukha mudra to enact a woman shyly opening her veil to her beloved.

Aankhon ki sharm-o-haya maaf ho

Tumhe dekh ke jhukti hain

Uthi aankhen joh baat na keh saki

Jhuki aankhen woh kehti hain

I pretended to peer down while darting my eyes for a second at my imaginary lover in the mirror at the last line. Taking another twirl, I began practicing a few hand combinations for the instrumental part while practicing an easy-going, graceful smile in the mirror.

Quickly lining my eyes with kajal and applying a bindi to the centre between my eyebrows, I hurried back to the middle of my room, which acted as my imaginary stage, and giggled to myself while blushing hard for the upcoming stanza.

Kajal ka ek til tumhare labon pe laga loon

Haan chanda aur suraj ki nazron se tumko bacha loon.

I dabbed some kajal from the corner of my eyelids and applied it below my lips, and then I acted to be completely besotted with my beloved.

Har dum tumhe sochti hain

Jab hosh mein hota hai jahaan

Madhosh yeh karti hain

Moving my fingers around my kohl-lined eyes, I closed them a little and curved my wrists in a spinning motion to show the state of being drunk in love.

My eyes for a second moved outside the window and went downwards at the bushes when I found a boy staring up at me. I gasped and averted my eyes while scurrying back to the door to calm my racing heart.

I counted the rapid beating of my heart until ten and tip-toed to the window again. Hiding half of my face behind the curtain, I peered down the window to check if the boy was still standing there or not.

He was!

“No use hiding. I have already seen you. You dance really well.”

Blushing at the compliment and at my embarrassment, I replied, “Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” The boy asked.

The white lights were dim, and some were already switched off. I could barely make out the boy’s appearance. I could spot a bike and the boy standing beside it, all dressed in a sleeveless grey tank top and black trousers. His hair tousled because of the wind, probably from the bike ride, and his face was half hidden thanks to the dim street lights; he looked no less dreamy.

I wondered how I hadn’t seen this guy before.

“Sameera. Yours?”

“I will tell you if you agree to meet me at the society park tomorrow evening. I am new here, though.”

Taken aback and slightly amused at his forwardness, I said, “I have my dance class in the evening.”

“When does your class end?”

“At 6.30 PM.”

The boy thought for a while before saying. I silently looked at him, wondering what in the fictional novel world I had actually seeped into when he looked up at me again. “I will see you around 7 then. Goodnight.”

Passing me a two-finger salute, he sat atop his bike and sped off towards D-wing. After a minute, I tapped my head and stood in front of the mirror to contemplate what had happened in these ten minutes. Aankhon ki gustakhiyan had finished a long time ago, and Dekha ek khwaab had begun playing.

I rolled my eyes while trying to hide the bright smile on my lips as I glanced at my reflection. Hiding my face in my palms, I closed my textbook and notebook. Placing them on their rightful shelves, I made my bed, and with a strange, warm smile, I went to bed. My mind was now fixed on the boy on the bike outside the window.

***

Taglist: @alhad-si-simran @ramcharantitties @jukti-torko-golpo @navaratna @krishna-priyatama @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @krsnaradhika @kaal-naagin @houseofbreadpakoda @aesthetic-aryavartik

This was supposed to be a short story par nahi hua so maybe with enough motivation I might just end up writing this in parts to fuel my writing with end sems kyunki dimag isn't dimaging well :(

IT'S 1 AM NOW?? HOW BYE I WILL GO SLEEP AND WAKE UP TO STUDY TOMOROW

Also if you want to be added in the taglist, do let me know

[bi-bard]

As It Is Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Kaz Brekker - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: As It Is Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Kaz Brekker

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 2,608 words

Warning(s): touch aversion, mentions of nightmares/past trauma

Author's Note: Here's a cute little fact: I write for a lot of Taylor Swift and Hozier and dodie and stuff, but As It Is is my favorite band of all time. I hold their music very close to my heart. I could spend hours talking about how much I love their music.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

-----------------------

The Handwritten Letter

I need you when I'm bruised and broken It's all that keeps me here and hoping I'm tangled in your mind unwoven I need you when I'm bruised I need you when I'm broken

Ka would never accept that someone helped him for the sake of helping him. In his eyes, everyone had another agenda of some kind. Money, power, take your pick. That belief always made him cold and distant. I had long accepted that he would never admit to having someone around merely for the sake of having them around.

That would be a liability. He would never risk giving his enemies such an easy way to have power over him.

Maybe "never" was a strong word.

I was sitting at my small, listening to the sound of pencil scratching paper, only interrupted by pauses to either pull thoughts in order, make corrections, or flip to the next page. I would never thank Jesper enough for getting me a small leather-bound journal. He introduced me to the beautiful world of writing that I had never known before.

I must've been too focused on my scribbling to notice the world around me.

Kaz had to clear his throat for me to know that he had gotten into my apartment. I turned around in my seat so I could look at him.

"Hey," I said. I would have been worried about him getting in, but I was the one who gave him a key. "Sorry, I was writing. Didn't hear you come in."

"You should be resting." he didn't acknowledge my statement. "You hit your head. You need to be in bed."

He said it like a boss instructing an employee, but we both knew that there was more to it than that. Well, I liked to believe that.

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"You were unconscious," he argued.

"And now, I'm not-"

"Jesper had to carry you here!" he cut me off. "You could have easily died! I- We almost lost you. Now, get back into bed."

"Alright, alright," I mumbled. "Never knew that you cared so much."

He didn't respond to that. He merely watched as I climbed under my covers.

"I get it, you need to make sure that all of your tools are in working condition," I added, curling into my pillow.

There was this long pause.

Neither one of us moved. I was curled under my thin covers. He stood in the middle of my room. I couldn't see him. I wondered what his eyes were focused on. Was it just me or was it the mess around my home? Could he picture me living in my space or was my existence as much of an enigma to him as his was to me?

"I lied to you."

The quiet confession made me slowly push myself up. I held myself up on my hands, allowing my blanket to fall onto my lap. He was looking away from me. His eyes were fixed to my journal, staring at the words that I had scrawled into the paper before his visit.

"What do you mean," I asked.

The page sitting open was one that I should have been embarrassed by. Lines constructed to reflect a longing that I had only known with Kaz. Poetry about suffocating, yearning, burning, and begging. All of it boiled down to one thing: I needed Kaz as much as I needed air or water or food.

I should've been humiliated. But I wasn't. Because I knew that he had to be aware of my feelings. How could he not be when it so clearly filled my eyes when I looked at him?

"Kaz-"

"You were never merely a tool," he said, looking at me.

"Then what am I?" I muttered. "To you?"

He took a deep breath. When his eyes turned away from me again, it felt like my heart jumped into my throat. I just needed him to say something. Say what I had been desperate to hear for as long as I had known him.

"Kaz, please," I pulled myself over to the end of the bed, sitting on my knees. "Tell me."

"I care for you," he said. "More than I should. More than I want to."

He walked over, stopping right in front of me.

"I need to know that you're okay," he continued. "Always. I feel a need to be around you and protect you. You make me feel a safety that I haven't felt in years. If you were gone, I don't know what I would do. You... You are..."

He trailed off, looking as if the words were truly getting stuck in his throat. As if forcing out another word would bring him pain. I didn't want to be the source of that. He had already said so much more than I had ever wished for.

He looked down. I did the same. His hand was resting on my bedframe, just next to mine. I grinned and looked back at him.

"I... I'm not good at things like this," he mumbled.

"It's okay," I promised. "I'm patient."

He looked back at me. A grin started forming on his lips.

I felt safe calling it a good start.

Winter's Weather

Please see in me what I can’t see, I’m begging Please won’t you be the light I need so desperately

Physical affection was not something Kaz was used to.

He had made that abundantly clear to me.

I never pushed him. Or I never tried to. I let him take the lead most days, and if I ever did take the lead, then I would have no complaints if he pulled away. It was all meant to be understanding. Kindness.

It worked well for us. Even without any kind of touching, Kaz made it clear to me that I was not the same as everyone else. I caught his smiles. He would walk closer to me. I had free access to his office. He would mumble things to me that the others weren't meant to hear.

He had quiet ways of showing me that I meant so much to him.

I thought we were happy that way. For the time being, at least.

And then, Kaz showed me that maybe that wasn't the case.

He was standing by his mirror, tending to something. I was sitting on the chair opposite his desk, scanning my eyes over the pages of a book.

It took me a few moments to realize that he had moved to stand in the archway and watch me quietly. I grinned at him.

"You're staring, Brekker," I teased.

There was something both flattering and nerve-wracking about being the center of Kaz's attention. I had never been looked at with as much intensity as he looked at me. It felt as if he could stare into my soul as easily as he breathed. As if he knew every secret that I could ever think of keeping from him. It made my heart speed up and my face turn warm.

"Something's on your mind," I said, placing the book on his desk. "I can see it."

His eyes seemed to scan me for a moment longer before he spoke, "Am I wasting your time?"

"Never," I replied instantly. It was true. I wouldn't take back a moment that I spent with him. Ever. "Why are you asking?"

"Just something that I saw today," he tried to wave off the entire interaction.

I stood from my seat. I walked over to the archway, standing next to him in the entrance. "What is it, Kaz?"

"Have I ever once shown you that I care for you," he asked. "Ever?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"When?"

"Every day," I explained. "When you try to keep me safe or tell me that Inej brought me a new book or murmur something in my ear. You show me, Kaz. In your own special way. Please believe me when I say that I know it."

"You deserve more than this," he muttered. "You deserve a man who can touch you. A man that doesn't let his weakness stop him from being yours-"

"Stop it, Kaz," I cut him off. "I don't need more than what I have. I will decide what I deserve. It took me ages to convince myself that I deserved you. There isn't something better than you. Not for me. You are everything. The center of my world; the sky, the ground, and everything in between. I don't need to touch you or have you touch me to convince me."

He didn't respond.

Instead, he looked down for a moment. I took a deep breath, assuming that this was a losing fight. I was ready to let it go for the night, but Kaz stopped me before I could.

"I want you to touch me."

It was like the room filled with smoke. Tension so thick that I could hardly breathe. My mind couldn't process the sentence for a moment, and once it did, it didn't stop playing it over and over and over.

"Are you sure," I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"You don't have to-"

"I want you to," he stopped me.

"Okay," I nodded. "Anything in particular."

He took a deep breath. "No."

I took a moment to study his face. "I... I'm going to just reach up and touch your face-"

"I'm not a scared dog."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

I slowly lifted my hand up and went to cup his cheek.

I saw him tense as soon as my hand touched his face. His breathing picked up and his eyes closed. I had never craved to be able to read someone's mind quite like I did then. Maybe then, I could offer him some peace through it.

I felt guilt sitting in my stomach. I felt like I was bringing him pain. As if my hand had been covered in small blades, each cutting into his skin one by one.

The guilt only grew as I recognized the warmth in my heart. I loved Kaz. I never doubted that. Being able to touch him, to show just one ounce of the love I held was a blessing. But I was feeling this love while he was in pain. I couldn't inflict that on him.

I went to move my hand away, unable to handle seeing him like this. "Kaz-"

"Don't," he instructed, opening his eyes to look at me. "Please."

It felt like he was seeing me. Not some ghost from a nightmare that he wouldn't explain to me. Some remnant of a life he wanted to bury so desperately that I had seen haunt him far too often.

I barely noticed that Kaz matched his breathing with mine.

Maybe he didn't mean to. Maybe he was just trying to calm himself down and it was the best choice he had.

"Will you kiss me," he asked quietly.

I paused for a moment. "Are you... Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I stepped forward and grinned at him nervously.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

It was only for a few seconds. A few seconds of my lips barely touching his. I wanted to be gentle and careful, but I had this pull in my chest to just show him how much I adored him. But regardless of what I wanted, I leaned back, pulling my hand back with it.

We both stood there for a few moments before I finally spoke up, "Are you alright?"

Kaz let out a heavy breath before looking at me again. "Yes. I'm alright."

I felt a smile stretch across my face.

It was a perfect enough moment for me.

The Truth I'll Never Tell

And I could tell you how I've really been But would you even want to know

I had somewhat expected Kaz to pull away after his final fight with Pekka Rollins.

It was a taxing venture. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I could see it. On his face, in his shoulder, in the way he spoke. I just wanted to be there for him, but I felt the same exhaustion that he did.

I understood his desire to be alone after it had all gone down.

However, there's a distinct difference between needing time alone to regroup after an intense experience and unhealthy isolation.

Maybe my urge to show up at his office that night were selfish than I would admit to. Maybe it was more of an attempt to soothe myself than him. Even if he shoved me away, then I could say that I tried and live without the guilt of not reaching out to him when he may have needed me.

Regardless of whatever subconscious reason there may have been, I went to Kaz's office.

He was sitting at his desk, clearly lost in thought in some way.

I walked over to stand next to the desk, taking a moment to scan my eyes across the side of his face. His wounds from his last meeting with Pekka were healing quite nicely, but they were still noticeable. And they broke my heart.

"You're staring," He mumbled, looking over at me.

I blinked a few times. "Sorry. I wanted to check on you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my partner and I care for you," I explained. "You've been avoiding me, Kaz."

He pulled his eyes away from me, instead choosing to focus on something on his desk.

"I understand that a lot has happened," I continued. "And I have no interest in forcing you to say or do anything, but I need you to know that I want to listen. I want to know what's going on-"

"What difference would that make exactly," he asked, cutting me off.

"Because bottling up your emotions all the time isn't healthy," I shrugged. "You deserve to have someone to talk to, Kaz."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then, explain it."

There was a long pause. Tense. I watched Kaz's jaw clench for a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest. I refused to leave him. Not like this.

"I thought that they'd stop," he muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"The nightmares. The flashbacks. I thought that getting rid of Pekka Rollins would get rid of them."

"And they didn't."

"No," he whispered.

"I... I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes. He looked embarrassed. He never liked pity. I should have shown that my attempts at empathy may look very similar in his eyes. And the worst part was that I didn't know how to prove him wrong.

"Kaz," I mumbled, going to take a knee in front of him so our eyes would be closer to level when he eventually turned to me. "I... I can't fix what's already happened. I can't. Believe me, there is nothing more I want than to be able to offer you some kind of clean slate. But I... I can support you. If you let me."

I heard a sigh escape him.

"You once told me that I gave you a sense of safety that you hadn't felt in a long time," I said. "Let me make good on that expectation."

He finally looked at me again, eyes scanning my face. I wonder what he was looking for. Ruminants of my injuries or simply some sign that I was lying to him.

"Okay," I asked.

He took a deep breath before nodding. "Okay."

I felt a smile stretch across my face.

In that moment I knew that I was never going to be as in love with someone as I was with Kaz.

And I was perfectly content with that.

-----------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[hunterfromtheabyss]

miku rkgk (18/100)

[wispstalk]

diplomacy

Tanis slaps an open book down atop Martin’s notes. He points. “Read it,” he commands.

“Er… knight-errant of—”

“Knight?” Tanis sits down heavily across the table. “I thought Coradri was fucking with me.”

Martin fights back a smile. She is capable enough as a reading teacher, aside from her deplorable habit of lying for no other reason than her own amusement— two days ago, Martin was forced to break the news to Tanis that there is no such letter as chent in the Cyrod alphabet.

But he has his bone now, and won’t stop chewing it. “Fucking knights. Pah. And why's it have to be— it's twisted, priest. Impossible, with all these fake silent letters. What’s that K there for? And the H, I’ll forgive, but the G?”

“I don’t…” Martin can barely get the words out for laughter. “That’s really how it’s spelled. There's nothing I can do to stop it from being spelled that way. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“An apology! For your stupid language. Mine makes sense.” He seizes the scratch paper Martin had been using, and painstakingly writes a word in Daedric script. “Foyada. See. Fo-ya-da. It says what it says.”

“Oh, really.” Martin snatches the paper back and scribbles out a word of his own. “One of your very own Great Houses.”

“ ‘M no House Dunmer,” he says disdainfully, and folds his arms. “What’s the problem.”

“Hekem and lyr together? Hlaalu? Hardly rolls off the tongue.”

Tanis cackles. “Ha-lalu? Oh, you’re going to make a fool of yourself in the White-Gold Tower. Ha-lalu.” More laughter.

Martin’s face must have fallen, because Tanis stops his mockery at once, and reaches across the table, and gives his arm a light thwack. “Didn’t mean it like that, priest.”

“No fault found in speaking truth.” Martin offers him a conciliatory half-smile. “I suppose I’ll have to make do with you for my education in diplomacy. How is it said? I’ve only ever seen it in writing.”

“La-lu,” he says, two delicate little chimes of a bell. Martin likes to hear the man speak in his own mother tongue, even if Martin understands none of it; the lazy roll of the vowels, the quick flick of the consonants, fluid and hissing like a river of molten fire. He realizes, perhaps a second too late, that he is staring at Tanis’s mouth.

“Fake silent letters,” he accuses.

“It’s not silent, it’s different,” Tanis fires back. “Hlaalu. Leyr. Hear it?” When Martin shakes his head, Tanis shrugs. “You’re hopeless.”

Martin lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re giving up on me so quickly?”

“Mhm. You’ll have to find someone else for your dip— er…”

“Diplomacy.”

“Dunno that word.”

“It’s… negotiation. Conducting good relations between the provinces. That sort of thing.” He sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose, and casts a reproachful glance at the book he had been plodding through before the interruption. One of four ponderous volumes on the history of the Empire, purchased in Bruma with Tanis’s money and hauled up the mountain on Tanis’s back, at Martin’s request. In the hopes he could learn something of the unthinkable task before him.

“Nothing about bloody knights in that one, is there?” Tanis follows his gaze and picks it up. “Ka-ta-ri-ah. Katariah?”

The delight on Tanis’s face when Martin nods. “Consort to the Mad Emperor, Pelagius III, who became his successor,” he explains. “One of your own, in fact, from Morrowind, distrusted by the nobility but beloved by the people. And famed for her travels and diplomacy, though this blasted book says nothing of how she managed to weave in the loose ends of a damaged Empire, just that she did it…”

“Diplomacy’s a tough tattle, I reckon.”

"You're the expert."

Tanis retrieves his beknighted book and rises to leave. “But your answer’s right there, isn’t it, priest? Shack up with a madman and the people will love you.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Martin says.

[oboetemasuka]

Deep Cover storyboard mockup

And the mockup is here! Spoilers for Deep Cover, of course. Before we proceed, have a little sketch of Kotoko.

Ready? Okay. Under the cut.

Verse 1:

(Under) [Kotoko facing front] kudaranai isonkankeida [Haruka smiling and crossing his arms] (Under) [Kotoko facing left] hashitanai nukumori no goru [Yuno frowning, hands akimbo]

bakajan bakajan ne [Kotoko facing almost forward, scowling] mata ikitte sa ikitte sa [Fuuta holding a hand up to his face] dasai ne [Kotoko's foot stomping down]

(Under) [Kotoko facing left but with her head turned to the camera] kawaranai megumu kuin gemu [Muu grinning, one hand on her chin] (Under) [Kotoko facing left] sukuenai nebumi no sutira [Shidou clutching a med kit]

bakajan bakajan ne [Kotoko facing right and scowling] mada sukitte sa [Mahiru kneeling on the ground, bracing herself] sukitte sa [Kotoko with a pained expression] kitsui ne [Kotoko's fist with brass knuckles]

Verse 2:

(Under) [Kotoko facing almost forward, face tilted slightly left] kakushite itai yokubaritai giso han'ei [Kazui with one hand on his hip] tomerarenai fumikomenai [Kotoko getting dragged away] shinko-shin [Amane kneeling and staring up blankly]

bakajan bakajan ne [Kotoko from a slightly upward perspective] maji oboetenai [Mikoto blocking Kotoko's punch] oboetenai nibui ne [Kotoko blocking Mikoto's punch]

(Under) [Kotoko facing right] tsukaenai kioku no kangoku de [Es glaring, arms crossed] (Under) [Kotoko facing forward and grinning widely] yurete itai? warae chau seigi [Kotoko and Es walking towards each other]

bakajan bakajan ne [Kotoko walking right, now wearing Es's uniform] doa o nokku shite miyou ka [Kotoko grinning while holding the brim of the warden hat]

Outro:

(Under) kudaranai `01 kiseichu' (Under) hashitanai `02 inran jou'

(Under) kudaranai `04 nise joo' (Under) hashitanai `05 kaibo-hei'

(Under) kakushite itai `07 kyogen ji' (Under) tsukaenai `11 no kanshu'

[Similar to previous verses, except Kotoko is in warden uniform and Haruka, Yuno, Muu, Shidou, Kazui, and Es's faces are scribbled out]

-

Thoughts may be reblogged at a later point.

[bttmbunk]

so,,,that kas theory, huh

[tangerineduskbyka]

polkadot hearts - Drawstring Bag

fun | cute | hearts

Creating cute hearts with a fun sense of love.

[teaah-art]

Desi LGBT Fest 2023 (hosted by @desi-lgbt-fest)

Day 3 : Fear/Guilt

CW: Aphobia, Homophobia, Misogyny

POV you're Ace/Aro/Aspec/Arospec in a 'get hetero married, have kids' heavy culture but not really very out to people. I mean, at this point the marriage culture is so deeply ingrained being out will probably exacerbate the guilt haha hahahahahaha haha hah....haha

Anyway, text flowed better in Hindi for me but ALT text available with translation+transliteration of the scribbles as well as the narrative text. English translation+transliteration of just the narrative text under the cut

Transliteration:

Hath Peele Nahin Honge,

Na khilegi mehendi ki lali,

Ghar me baaraat nahin aayegi,

Rishtedaron ko nyota nahin jayega

Safar ka humrahi bhi nahi hoga,

Jeevansathi bhi nahi hoga,

Humdard hokar bhi dard nahin samajh aayenge.

Humraaz hokar bhi raaz nahin rujhayenge.

Kabhi kabhi ek sukoon sa lagta hai,

Na rishte banenge, na dard hoga.

Lekin kya dost ke dard me sukoon pana,

Wajib hai?

Translation:

Hands won't stain yellow,

Neither will the red of the henna flourish,

The wedding party won't come home,

The relatives won't get an invite,

The journey won't have any fellow travellers,

There won't be a life partner,

Pain doesn't make sense despite being empathetic,

Secrets don't seem enticing despite being a confidante.

Sometimes, there's a sense of relief,

Bonds won't form, there won't be any pain.

But is it fair to seek relief in a friend's pain?