#super happy to get to write with you :)

[wispscribbles]

why are you and your drawings so cool 😭🙏

afdsasdfasg thank you !! irl ppl would laugh at me being called cool lol - Have a ghoap as thanks <33

[teethkid67]

PAYDAY

aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!

this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it

happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[14dayswithyou]

I'm going to be a little evil :3c /silly

*I have stolen all of their headwear, leaving only FROGGY HAT in his closet.*

"Boy it sure is chilly today. Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay [REDACTED]?"

✦゜ANSWERED: I believe in froggy hat [REDACTED] supremacy 🖤🐸

He knew. Of course he knew. [REDACTED]'s security system alerted him the second you stepped foot into his apartment, and it took the dark-haired hacker almost all of his willpower not to rush home and see you. But alas, he had other matters to attend to and messes to clean up here. Things he couldn't risk putting on hold, lest he pay the consequences for them later.

So, [REDACTED] settles for watching you through his cracked phone screen as you try to sneak your way around his apartment. They didn't really understand why you felt the need to be so secretive; you knew your boyfriend would be out for the day, you had his spare keycard and access to the entire 14th floor, and [REDACTED] had made it explicitly clear early on in the relationship that everything he owned was yours completely. Nothing was off limits to you, and that included every inch of his living space.

...And even himself.

Curiously, they watch with keen interest as you quietly slide the door to his walk-in closet open and take in your surroundings once more — making sure that you really were alone in his dimly-lit bedroom. But barely a moment passes before you stride in with a newfound purpose, unzip your backpack, and begin to stash all of his caps and beanies inside.

Well, alright then. If you decided he no longer needed those items, then so be it. He was never one to deny you anything.

But in retrospect, you were honestly doing [REDACTED] a favour. He genuinely didn't really need those items in his possession anymore — especially considering how he had no real reason to conceal his identity from you after all these years of being together.

He could never forget about that pivoted moment in time when you opened up to your beloved hacker about his rather... intense need to watch over you 24/7. And after you had scolded him multiple times for stalking you from darkened corners and alleyways outside your apartment complex, [REDACTED] had all but tried to change his ways. To better themselves for you.

After all, you deserved nothing less.

Glancing back at his phone once more, [REDACTED] takes in every little movement you make as you continue to tuck away his belongings; down to the turn of your head and the flex in your muscles. Not a single twitch or glance goes unnoticed under his watchful gaze — and had the dark-haired man not been so enraptured by your ministrations — he surely would've noticed that it was just about time for him to start packing his tools up and head home.

Home, in time for the date you had planned for the evening.

But the way you purposefully moved around his closet had [REDACTED] in a trance. You were extremely methodical about the things you were swiping from his shelves; neatly packing away all of the headgear, earmuffs, and scarves on display (and even the ones hidden within the depths of his drawers!). Yet... One single item remained in the aftermath of your wake.

Atop one of the lone shelves in the corner, it sits, isolated from the rest of its kind. Worn out yet well loved; it was no more than a novelty item your boyfriend had originally won for you from a crane game. But even after their constant insistence that you should keep it, you rebutted it all by saying it'd look better on him instead — all while pushing the cute, froggy hat back into his hands with a teasing smile.

("If you keep bleaching your hair like that," his real name falls from your lips like sweet nectar, "All of your hair will fall out. When that happens, you can use this to keep your bald head warm!"

"...When that happens? Hmph. You're gettin' cheeky." With a smile of his own, your boyfriend reaches out to gently pinch your cheek. "I haven't touched m'hair in ages.")

So after watching you be so meticulous with the items you were "robbing", the hacker couldn't help but wonder what your main motive was. Why leave that silly, little frog hat alone unless... Did you want him to wear it? You knew [REDACTED] would never say no to you — let alone to a frivolous request — but admittedly, they did find it rather endearing to watch you put in all that effort just for him.

Just like how he used to be... Back before you opened the curtains of his life and brought sunshine into his heart.

Gone are the days of "Ren", when [REDACTED] had to snoop around your apartment just to get any sort of inclination of what your type and interests might be. No longer did [REDACTED] have to "borrow" some of your old clothing to keep himself company on lonely nights; to put them over his pillow and pretend like it was you he was holding close to his chest. He no longer had to steal your presents and tokens out of spite and jealousy — only to return them days later once they noticed how upset it made you.

Too caught up in reminiscing about the past, [REDACTED] had almost missed your swift getaway from his bedroom. Living up to your nickname, you glide down the staircase and across his foyer as if you sprouted angel wings on your back and stroll into the elevator, before closing the door and pulling out your phone.

And just like clockwork, [REDACTED]'s camera feed gets replaced by the bright red and green call buttons that shake and taunt him at the bottom of the screen — alongside the personalised caller photo of you smiling towards the sunset ocean with [REDACTED]'s jacket atop your shoulders. The dark-haired man leaves no room for pause before he's swiping his finger across the screen and eagerly anticipating the sound of your voice.

You greet him in that casual, nonchalant tone of yours, and [REDACTED] had to resist the urge to start recording the call — to save the addictive timbre of your voice for when he needs to hear it the most.

"Man... It sure is chilly today, don't you think?"

There's the familiar sound of tacky elevator music playing in the background, and part of [REDACTED] thinks you're purposefully calling him right now to let him in on your (not so) secret escapades... To let them know where you are.

Or perhaps you were already aware that he knows, if the way you were glancing up at the elevator camera was anything to go by.

Regardless, you don't give away any other telling signs as your beloved hacker watches you through the camera. Your bag is still carefully slung over a shoulder, while one of his old, black university caps received the pleasure of being fiddled with in your hand. Your voice returns once more, and it causes a grin to form on his lips.

"Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay?"

There's a newfound teasing lilt in your tone, which has [REDACTED] latching on to your every word with bated breath and scrambling for a reply.

"'Course. Wouldn't miss our date for the world. 'N make sure y'stay warm too, angel." Without missing a beat, he easily takes his place in your little game. "Wouldn't wanna misplace your jacket 'n get cold now, would we?"

Your pixelated smile on the screen gives everything away.

You hear the unmistakable sound of [REDACTED]'s sports motorbike before you see it; watching the corner of your street as he appears from the darkness like a phantom.

And like the gentleman that he is, [REDACTED] doesn't make you stray far from the safety of the streetlamp either. The moment your boyfriend pulls up in front of you, one of his large hands reaches around your waist to draw you near (almost as if he'd gone years without being in your presence), while the other makes quick work of the latch of his helmet. In one swift motion, he pulls it off and rests it against the tank—

Only to reveal that cute, pastel green frog hat sitting atop his head.

He can't help but smile when you do; clearly pleased that he went through with your silly request. At that, you let out a low hum of appreciation as you lean against your boyfriend's chest, and [REDACTED] returns the favour by bending down and pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as well.

"...Think y'could give this unworthy prince another kiss, love?" Your beloved boyfriend leans in closer until your lips are millimetres away from touching, "Otherwise I might stay cursed t'live in this froggy form forever."

[stealingyourbones]

Danny Phantom meets Superman. More accurately I should say that Danny Fenton meets Clark Kent.

Let me make this clear cause people seem to forget this: superman is smart. Clark kent is a very intelligent guy. Hes an INVESTIGATIVE journalist. He works with Lois Lane whos a multiple Pultizer prize winner and you know damn well that Lois wouldn’t work with anyone that cant keep up with her in both wits and smarts. He’s good at his job and in some comics he gets Pulitzer Prizes from some of his articles as well. Dude is dumb but he’s smart if you get what I’m saying. High Int. Low Wis.

With that in mind, During an assignment by Perry White, Lois and Clark meet the Fentons in their Amnesty residence to get some quotes on an article that discusses “Everything we thought didn’t exist is now real. Superheroes, Aliens, even Vampires, so why do we not Believe in Ghosts?”

Clark Kent spots Danny and notices instantly that MANY things are wrong with this child. His shoulders are hunched in a way that is intentional and tensed. Like he doesn’t know if he should fight or flee. His eyes are darting around and constantly taking in their surroundings like he’s waiting for something to barge in. His heart is beating far slower than it should. The kid intentionally makes his chest rise and fall but he’s not breathing in any oxygen. All of those are concerning but they can happen in metas. The thing that isn’t normal is that Clark can’t hear any of Danny’s other organs working. Like the kid is a revitalized corpse and his body only thought to bring back half of its needed functions.

So Clark does some digging. He doesn’t want to tell any of the Justice League because this isn’t a Superman job, this is a job for Clark Kent. He gets some help from Oracle and with her word that she won’t say anything to batman, He agrees to update her regularly about the kids situation.

Oracle sends over some VERY concerning documents from an organization called “The Ghost Investigation Ward”. Oracle tells Clark that she’s working on tipping off the Bats and Birds so they can help dismantle the organization.

While sifting through the documents Clark comes across a profile of a “Danny Phantom”. As I said, Clark isn’t stupid. There is definitely a profile of Danny Fenton as well since he’s the son of two world renown ghost hunters. He puts the two and two together and uncovers just the horrible treatment that Phantom has been receiving from his parents, the government, and his peers. Clark is outraged and can’t just stand aside and let this kid suffer. So he makes another trip to the Fenton residence under the guise of needing another quote and sits Danny and Jazz down and tells him that he knows of the terrible lab safety, the immoral experiments his parents do on the regular, the neglect of the kids in pursuit of scientific discovery. He knows and he wants to help. Clark tells Danny and Jazz that there is an apartment available right nextdoor from his and that he can help them get to a safer location and apply for emancipation.

The Fenton kids are shocked at this guy and his immensely kind heart. Danny knows something is up though. Something is up with Clark Kent. He looks like all his life would be spent in the gym when he isn’t at work and yet Danny can’t find a thing on Clarks interest in working out. His baggy clothes somewhat cover up his muscles but his frame is far too wide to be hidden. Clarks heartbeat is slightly faster than the average persons. No human eyes could be that startlingly sky blue. And Danny knows that he has seen Clarks face somewhere but he cant put a pin on it.

The Fenton kids agree and they get brought to metropolis and the emancipation case is no problem with the evidence Clark managed to collect. The kids get the apartment next to Clarks and Clark helps them grow and get better mentally and situationally. Clark knows that in a way he’s trying to make up for his neglect on Connor but he still knows that helping these kids is the right decision.

After a month or so, Clark and the Fenton kids have a rhythm of meeting at each others apartments, getting doted over to make sure that the fentons are well fed and have everything they need and are getting settled into their new life.

Clark hasn’t told the league. Oracle keeps her promise to keep the Fentons out of Batman and the Justice League’s radar. Clark knows that he will have to tell them soon eventually. He knows that things like this wont last. He tries his best to keep these kids happy and support them how an actual caring parent should act.

A few months into the Fentons stay in Metropolis on a cool autumn afternoon, Danny is sitting on a beanbag chair reading a ratty old book that Clark lent him as Clark is typing away on his computer writing up an article for the Daily Planet when Danny looks over to Clark and says,

“I’m Phantom.”

Clark pauses typing and shoots a small smile towards danny, “I know.”

Danny nods in relieved acceptance as Clark straightens up from his hunced over position on his computer.

He pulls back his shirt collar slightly to show the blue suit and red cape. “I’m Superman.”

Danny looks at him and smiles, “I know.”

They both just sit and continue reading and writing with soft smiles on their faces. Comforted at the exchange and that it’s finally out there and eachother knew.

After a while Danny’s obsession gets to be too much. He tells Clark about it and that he has to find a way to sate his obsession of protecting and Clark accepts that it was only a matter of time and invites him to meet the League.

When Superman brings Danny to the Watchtower, saying that the rest of his fellow superheroes were shocked would be an understatement. The Man of Steel and this ghost kid are talking like a father and son.

To say that Batman was pissed that he wasn’t informed of this child is also an understatement. But there is also some amusement and respect under that frustration. Superman managed to keep this kid under wraps and didn’t even alert Batman. Superman smirking and saying under his breath to him “Looks like the World's Greatest Detective isn’t so great huh?” Makes Batman respect the man even more.

In the Watchtower, Danny meets up with Teen Titans/The Team/Whatever They’re Called Now, and meets Conner. Conner is understandably pissed and spiteful that Danny got to have Superman as a father figure.

Conner knows that Superman treating Danny this way is definitely a way of him trying to make up for the faults and breaks he had with his parental relationship with Conner. he agrees with himself that he shouldn’t hate Danny for having Superman as a Dad and the two get along like tinder and matches. Connor still has a grudge against Superman don’t get me wrong, just not as much as before.

Sometimes while the League is in battle, Superman likes to just look for Danny and watch him hold his own against world ending threats. Danny is now truly confident and it’s no longer a facade. He’s no longer hunching into himself to look smaller. He laughs more often now and seems to be genuinely happy. Superman fondly looks at his son as his kids eyes flicker with green fire as he says a shitty ice pun and freezes Metallo in his tracks with ghostly ice.

[sophiethewitch1]

gang i really just want to get to the part where the boys are hopelessly in love with reader to the point its genuinely pathetic

[kanene-yaaay]

He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out. 

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second. 

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?  

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing. 

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory. 

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away. 

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well. 

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation. 

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction. 

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon. 

“Eek! Wait, wait!” 

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh. 

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve. 

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug? 

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever? 

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality. 

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way. 

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly. 

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react. 

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand. 

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down. 

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch. 

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

[skitskatdacat63]

"To dream the impossible dream, that is my quest." - Prince Fernando of Asturias

+ Seb not getting what he ordered

+ the usual

Hello yes, look! It's baby Renault Fernando, isn't he so cute??? Who wouldn't want to force him into an arranged marriage, like cmon man be real. Here is the progress as usual, as well as his suit without the design, cause I'm pretty proud of it just blank even!

Okay so this is pure Fernando, innocent Fernando, before he had his apirations ripped way from him. Well not fully ripped away tbf, because that's the crux of his character: is it more humiliating to never succeed or to only succeed because someone handed it to you with concessions? I guess that's up for him to decide though ;;;

The thing I love about this drawing and young Fernando in general is how much easier it is to see his and Seb's similarities. Look how similar they look! Seb is just a bit more evil.

I think that's a big part as to why his feelings about Seb are so complicated. He both loves and hates how similar they are. From an egotistical point, he can appreciate and respect the familiar traits in Seb, the hunger, the exuberance, the pride, the ego. But also we hate seeing our own traits in other people, it's almost like turning a mirror on your worst traits and suddenly being able to see yourself from a new perspective. The biggest point here though is that Fernando turns that resentment onto Seb, as a way to clamp down on self hatred.

He becomes more bitter and resentful as he grows older, and loses a lot of his whimsy and joy. So it hurts him to see Seb, who in addition to getting everything he's ever wanted, also retain his whimsy. He, wrongly, just sees it as something that had to happen in order for him to grow up fully. It's more of a survival tactic, it started becoming unbefitting for him to have that level of unfounded confidence. That's the main reason he sees Seb as childish, immature and undeserving. He hasn't fully grown out of his capacity for whimsy and joy, and thus is below Fernando.

Well that was depressing oops! As the chibi art represents, this is probably a painting Seb got sent in the early days of planning their marriage. This is the Fernando who is still prideful, the Fernando who is still confident, the Fernando Seb vaguely remembers meeting his youth. Seeing this definitely pushes him even further towards the marriage(though tbf it's not like he even has a choice either.) Though when the time to actually start courting comes around, Fernando looks very uh different. This is both a joke about how different Fernando was in his first renault stint vs his second. But also I think he does show up very moody and disheveled, as a sort of last chance way to try and turn everyone on Seb's side, including Seb, off from the marriage. However, it's pretty much a done deal by that point.

Seb is uh, definitely confused, but I think he would be drawn to Fernando regardless. Actually, this might make Fernando even more appealing. Seb gets to push him all the time, try to break down his walls and get a glimpse at the real Fernando, if even just for a moment. Seb wishes he had more that just a blurry, vague recollection of Fernando at his peak confidence. Fernando definitely grows into something resembling his past self, after recovering from all the hurt, but there's just something about youthful exuberance that can't really be fully replicated.

Okay so about the quote. I went with Don Quixote this time instead of the typical Napoleon, because I thought it'd be funny. Fernando picks up the book at some point during his youth, and it inspires him a lot. He doesn't really see the satire in it, and comes to really admire Don Quixote's mentality, he's like "wow he never gives up! That's so admirable!" It definitely helps him through dark times to aspire to never give up no matter what. Though later Seb definitely rags on him for not knowing it was satire, and Fernando is like "wh-what do you mean satire?" But he's mentally strong enough atp for it to not cause his whole worldview collapse. About the quote specifically, there's definitely some part of him, even when young, that knows his aspirations are borderline impossible. I wonder if that part of him feels weirdly safe and comforted about the marriage. Yes, it's not ideal, but it's safe and secure. He gets what he wants, and there's no chance of anyone taking it away from him, no matter what.

I think his title would be Prince of Asturias? It was either that or duke, and I think prince fits him bettee(Machiavelli reference?) That title is currently the title for the heir to the Spanish throne. In this time period, it's also commonly used for the heir, but for Fernando it's a bit unsure. Like in real life, he's not directly the offspring, but he's still the most obvious choice for heir. But there's still enough room for Seb and his house to try to vie for the throne themselves, so it makes it all complicated.

[felizusnavidad]

Hi so i only recently got into hamilton and really liked lmm in it but ive been seeing a lot of pjo fans talking about not wanting him as hermes and you are a lmm expert so i wondered if you knew why people are hating on him for being casted in pjo?

first of all, i am actually flattered that you called me an expert (i am literally not but i do know a lot, i observe, i go through lmm tag every day, i get mad when i see people talk shit about him, basically i'm super loud about my love for this guy so there's that some call it dedication, i call it obsession lol).

there are a lot of reasons actually but all of them are just so silly to me. for example, some people say he is a bad actor (if hamilton is not enough for you, please go watch his dark materials, he is excellent and i will fight). others say he can't sing (he can, he may not have the most incredible vocals ever, not like most broadway stars and i know a lot of people compare him with the best singers out there, but it doesn't mean he can't sing, also, he is much better now than he used to be years ago, for example i'd recommend listening to vivo soundtrack, especially keep the beat or one more song, i mean EXCUSE ME BUT MY MAN CAN SING). another reason: some people say he is annoying because he puts raps everywhere. ok, and? he is a great rapper, i'll say more: he is also a freestyle rapper, very talented indeed (i recommend checking literally any freestyle love supreme video on youtube or you can just go through my fls tag here. making up rhymes on the spot? pretty insane if you ask me). there is also a group of people who think he is cringe, his rhymes are cringe, some of his songs are not good, etc etc (i bet those people can write better songs). i think he is one of the greatest composers of our generation and i will, of course, fight (haters, please shut the fuck up about the scuttlebutt, this song was supposed to be annoying, you just don't get it apparently? same with my own drum actually. can we just stop pretending that he is talentless because of those songs you guys literally have no taste and you hate fun and also shut tf up). oh, and also, people these days very often say he is everywhere and it's annoying (this is literally his job but whatever). and my all-time favourite: some people are mad that he was playing hamilton because they think he didn't deserve it (he literally wrote the whole thing but ok). one more thing: i have never read pjo, i literally just started reading it only because of lin, so i know nothing about hermes, but personally i really hope he will sing/rap, just because i want to see them all suffer.

there were also other controversial stuff (with in the heights, hamilton and puerto rico) but we are not going to discuss it on my blog, sorry (mostly because i have my own opinion about it and i know i will get a lot of hate for speaking my mind). one thing i can say is that nobody's perfect, we all make mistakes sometimes and i will always fight for him, no matter what.

[russetruse]

I know I don’t post writings here often, but I wanted to write something for @lizadale’s Dimigi!au. I don’t know Libby if you dream about the Dimigi!au but sometimes I do. I blame you sis. But also I added a lot more since you read the smaller version, enjoy almost 3k words on only part one of many.

Sorry it is written in 2nd person, but I blame Libby for getting me to only function in this style of writing but I can’t seem to write in any other prospective anymore lol.

I color coded characters, but what sucks is that this one doesn’t have black so I can’t use one of my original colors for characters speak. So the color I planned for one character had to move to the heart and the hearts color was originally black >:[ But I hope you enjoy.

Calamitous Revelry

Part I

Luigi Prov

CW/TW: Trauma, abuse, triggers on abuse, mentions on drowning/strangulation

You run your fingers through his greasy, tangled hair. Every time he goes on a mission, it seems he neglects basic bodily functions. The longer he’s off on one of his Merloo missions, the more worried you become. It brings you back to the days of the Castle, how he only seemed to eat when the other members were shoving food in his face at the required meetings. Even back then, his mask didn’t hide much from you. He had long given up before joining that group. It just frustrated you so much, he puts his own well being always being last on his list.

”Can you be more gentle?” He spoke very softly, but the voice cuts through the silence. His fragile, small body, leaning against the frame of the claw foot bathtub. It knots your stomach seeing him like this. Why did he always do this? Why was being away from you for any extended amount of time so collapsing to his mental state? Were you the only thing keeping him from self-destructing?

”Sorry. You really knotted your hair this time. I am trying my best to be gentle.” You reply softly, not wanting to cause him to jump and flee. This was close to being just as bad as when you found him almost dead in the deteriorating remains of Castle Bleck. Dimentio being caked in blood and dirt. You were hardly able to handle how much came off of him then, but even this was trying to match up to that day. Right now, the bath water was darker than your tan skin. You click your tongue, a Dio habit that you had seemed to pick up sometime throughout the course of living with him. Very glad that you had rolled up your sleeves above your elbows before even starting to wash him. And the water being this dirty before you even started to actually scrub his body! You click your tongue again in annoyance and frustration.

You knew Dimentio wanted to teleport away. Especially after he walked into the house. Well walked was even an understatement. He half floated, half dragged his feet across the threshold when he opened the door to your entrance. You swore he was going to collapse there in the entrance if you hadn’t been there to grab him and hold him with your own weight.

What shocked you more was the jester actually complained as you fondled him in worry, going down your own checklist in your head as you did so. First, checking him for injuries since he did have some blood caked on his clothes, and you weren’t sure if that blood was his or another’s. Which raised even more questions that you knew he wouldn’t divulge answers to you. So giving up on even prying into the matter, you scoop him up bridal style, and rush him up the stairs. Your lips placing kisses on his scars around his left eye, making sure to not miss a spot and to distract him from what you had planned ahead.

He started struggling in your grasp as you started running warm water in the tub of the finished guest room and declothed him. The caked on clothes were a pain to get off of his dirtied skin. Through the frustration of removing the clothes piece by piece, you confirmed at least most of the blood on his clothes were not his. Which did not lighten the feeling of comfort you wanted from his return, it concerned you more. Whose blood was this and did they deserve such injuries from him? But you shake your head, another series of questions you would not get answers to. You needed to get him clean before you would even get any chance to put food in his system. Let alone would your mind allow you to put him on the back burner and cook food when you knew he needed to be cleaned up right away.

The jester complained as you worked on completely bringing him down to his birthday suit, still double checking for any injuries that may need stitches or extra care. He complained to you until you submerged him into the warm bath water, that’s when his demeanor changed. He then held onto you as if his life depended on it. As if the water in the tub would drag him below the water's surface and take his last breath. You also knew if you looked away, he would quickly teleport away. And your goal to get him cleaned up would long be abandoned.

It takes you way too long to comb out the knots and grime out of his hair, but this makes you feel a bit better. Well, until you wrap your arm around him; your forearm resting across his chest and placing your hand under his armpit. It always takes you by surprise at how tiny he is, not just in height, but in size. Your body is giant compared to him. And you were use to being called “too skinny”, but even you didn’t complain to the man you held in your arms.

You lean forward, and with your free hand, you begin to drain the dirty water in the tub. You really needed to replace it with fresh, warm water. His body tenses at the water starting to run again to refill the tub. The jesters heart was beginning to race in a panic from this. You press him tighter to you, slowly soaking your own shirt. What good did you get from rolling up your sleeves to only press a wet twink to your chest. But still, you do not let him pull away, hoping that he can feel your heartbeat through the wool top. Yet you also hope that he doesn’t feel the Chaos Heart beating as well in your chest.

”I am NOT letting you go.” You whisper softly into his right ear, your mustache tickling it. Dimentio squirms in your grasp, fighting his own instincts to flee. Every nerve he had, you knew told him to get away quickly. You bring your lips to his ear, pecking it with a soft kiss. His body squirms more at his own signals being challenged. A challenge to fight staying and be adored by you or flee due to the rising water in this situation.

”I won’t let you drown.” You speak sternly to him, not sure if it was in assurance for you or him. You start to nibble on his ear, your free hand grabbing the washcloth and rinsing it under the spout.

You can feel his fingernails dig into your arm as the water rises above his hips. You wince at this, but start to scrub the dirt and grime off of his legs and feet. You take extra time on his swollen ankles in another attempt to calm him. Letting your hand through the wash cloth slowly message his swollen ankles to make sure he didn’t do more damage to them then what appeared on the surface. You find yourself at a loss when you run the washcloth over his ribs. Your stomach turns seeing the jester's ribs through his skin so easily that you could count every one of them. It upsets you so much that he is neglecting himself when he is away from you.

”Luigi.”

You grumble, tightening your grip, mumbling under your own breath. Why was he like this? Why was he so willing to throw his life away? So many cared for him. He had more worth than he thought or believe he had.

”Luigi!”

You can feel your own anger bubbling and building in your body.

No one.

No one.

Not even yourself. Not even in the dreamscape. Not even against the chaos heart, or even in your own dreams, were you willing to throw your life away so easily. A growl builds in your throat and comes out through your own words. “Why are you like this?”

“Lui!”

Thu-Thump…

You freeze up, your body stiffens at your own thoughts. Only Dimentio was ever able to rile up so much negative emotions in you. King boo wasn’t even able to do this to you.

“Lui-“

Thu-Thump.

You feel his fingernails claw at both of your arms now. Digging deep enough to draw blood.

Thu-THUMP.

The nails dig deeper and deeper into your arms, clawing down from your elbows to your hands. With what little nails the jester had left, were tearing at your arms. You knew he feared water, but this was ridiculous at how much he was trying to get out of being cleaned by you. You tighten your grip to this, growling loudly in frustration and anger at Dimentio.

THU-THUMP!

Water splashes onto your pants, snapping you out of your own thoughts. The buzzing sound in your ears is replaced with the sound of splashing. Your eyes widen in shock as you quickly pull your hands away from his neck. Your arms and hands dripping from blood from the number he did on you.

You watch him in worry and shock as the ancient quickly yanks himself from under the water's surface. Dimentio’s body was shaking uncontrollably from fear, coughing and gasping from the need of oxygen that deprived him. You were unsure of how long you had held him under, but the water he was coughing up said enough. His lungs were trying their hardest to clear the water that you had forced into them. The ancients eyes never leave your bloody, shaking hands.

No…

No.

No! You would never do that to him.

Never!

THU-THUMP!

You can hear the heart beating loudly in your ears and chest.

”I’m sorry Dio. I-It wasn’t me,” you stutter though a shaky voice, “I promise. It was th-“

You reach your shaking hands towards him in assurance. But the second you do, the familiar sounds of the jester teleporting away before you can even finish your explanation. Your eyes now staring at a bodiless bathtub full of fresh water, with swirls of red in it.

”C-Chaos H-Heart….” You finish, your voice trailing off to a soft whisper.

THU-Thump…

You let your arms drop to your sides in disbelief. The heart had found another opening, this time by your emotions. It had taken advantage of your emotional loophole, and went after what was the biggest threat to it. The one you loved…

It wasn’t you. You would never do that to him.

Never…

Never!

The image of Dio’s scared. No, scared was an understatement. He was terrified. And when you closed your eyes, that expression from Dimentio showed on the back of your eyelids. The bathtub overflowing, starting to soak your jeans and socks.

You needed to fix this. But could you even fix it? You stand, ignoring the tub overflowing and slowly flooding the bathroom. Your soaked socks splash in the water as you walk over to the sink, ignoring your own discomfort. You pick up the phone with shaky hands. You were having such trouble dialing the number correctly on the keypad, that you changed to your call list and clicked the forth or fifth recent call down.

You lift the cell to your ear and after a few rings you hear an ecstatic voice that didn’t match the feelings you were having right now.

”Gigi! It’s been a while. What-“

”Mimi. I fucked up badly. I need Nassy’s help, now. It’s too much to explain. Please…Please tell her it’s urgent.”

”That bad? I’ll get a hold of her ASAP. Keep your door unlocked Gigi. You better be ready to explain then.” You hear the phone click to Mimi hanging up and you drag yourself out of the bathroom. Your wet socks slush against the carpet of your guest room, and you force yourself down the steps. The house sounds oddly silent, except for the sound of what you believe is still the bathtub running. You must have forgotten to turn off the water, but you don’t seem to have the energy to bring yourself back up the stairs.

You bring yourself to the couch and work on removing your drenched socks. Your hands are shaking so badly that the simple task is more of a challenge than it should be. You discard your socks on the floor near you and you pull your legs up to you on the couch, making yourself as small as your body would allow you to.

You bring your eyes to your hands. Your hands rough with calusis from all the tinkering and hard work you did, middle class work. Though it had been a while since you had seen blood oozing from them. You shake your head.

His body was so small, so fragile. He was so easy to force under the water with your hands. It was even easier to wrap your fingers around his thin throat and start squeezing. He would have been easy to break, easy to finish off. You could snap him like the twig he was. Would anyone really miss him? Didn’t he deserve to be dead? He still attempted to go after IT. He still wanted to go after his original goal with the heart. He wasn’t a fighter, he was weak in that aspect. You could so easily break him, all you would have to do is grab his neck and snap it. He deserved that.

“Enough!” You yell to no one in particular, grabbing at your own greasy hair. Heck there were times you would have never fought those thoughts after everything he had put you through, but these thoughts weren’t your own. You growl at yourself for letting the heart dig into your thoughts and emotions over Dimentio. He confused you so much and had your emotions everywhere. You had anger towards him, frustration, confusion, annoyance, but most of all…you loved him.

Thu-Thump.

You grasp your shirt above your own heart. You couldn’t imagine a day without him anymore. You wanted to spoil him with affection that he was long deprived of. You wanted to show him what the world should have long given him. You so badly wanted to let him figure out what the true meaning of his emotions towards you were. Why did this relic have to be such a problem, and everyday you were losing more and more to it. You bite your bottom lip. You couldn’t lose to it, so many would fall if you lost. It would return to where it was taken from. It would reopen the void that you had worked so hard with your friends to close. If you could rip it out yourself and stop it from what it was made to do you would, but you were already told what that outcome would be.

A loud bang on the door causes you to jump from the couch, almost hitting your head on the ceiling from surprise. Only for the silence to be followed by the door slamming open before you can even take a step towards the entrance. The voice booming louder than the door hitting the wall or knocking combined.

“Ye here lad? We rush’t here as fas’ as we coud. Dimensoon stil’ a’ problem withoot tae wee yin crossin’ tae gap fir us.”

[good-beanswrites]

Happy Valentine's Day @artsy-azure ! Here's your gift for the @milgram-valentines-exchange 💖

Fuuta x Minato (oc) ~ The first section takes place right after his T2 interrogation, and then skips ahead to a tiny post-milgram scene :3 I hope you enjoy!

Fuuta thought he would drown. Not sink into water or anything like that; he was worried the voices filling his mind would completely suffocate him. There were too many of them. Too many people, all of them knowing every dark corner of his mind, and shouting into it. It should have been impossible for one voice – one softer than all the rest – to reach him.

Then again, everything about that voice should have been impossible.

“Fuuta… Hey, Fuuta… Are you alright?”

He blinked. He scrambled over to the nearest wall. There were no visible openings in the cell, not a single imperfection across any of the surfaces, yet Milgram’s intercom system functioned just fine. Most days it would just deliver the ear-rattling bell to tell him the time. On bad days, it carried Es’ summons to the interrogation room for his extraction. On worse days, it carried Es’ summons to the courtroom for his verdict.

On the very best days, it would bring him the voice of Hoshizawa Minato.

(Though, seeing as he had just returned from a catastrophic extraction, he wasn’t sure what type of day it was yet.)

He tore his attention away from the chorus of judgements and insults. He pressed his shoulder against the wall, still unsure where the sound was coming from, but knowing it was nearby.

“I’m here,” he said, hushed. More than anything he wanted to yell and scream, but he would never risk it, now. Minato had gone through a hell of a lot to break into Milgram’s systems, and he wouldn’t let his big mouth ruin all that. It had already ruined just about everything else.

“How are you holding up?”

Fuuta pressed his lips together. “Any news on getting us out of here?” was all he said.

Hundreds of miles away (or perhaps next door – neither of them could really know), Minato’s fingers adjusted his headset.

“I’m still working on it. These things take time.” 

“I’m definitely gonna need it after today.” 

“Your interrogation… I know.”

Fuuta pulled his hood down tighter, tufts of ginger hair ruffling underneath. “How much did you see?” 

Minato’s eyes flicked over to another monitor. It displayed the files he’d gained access to a few hours prior. It would crush Fuuta to hear about yet another person peeking into his personal moments, so he opted for a non-answer.

“I don’t have cameras. I don’t see much at all.”

“Tch, I’m not a damn idiot, I know that! I meant, how much did you hear?”

“...Everything.” 

Fuuta squeezed his eye shut. He bit a curse back. There came silence.

Minato actually double checked some of his monitors, making sure they hadn’t been disconnected.

“So then, you know,” Fuuta said at last. “There’s no fucking way I’m getting forgiven this time around.”

“You can’t be so sure. The–”

“No one in their right mind would forgive me after that.” He winced, remembering his harsh cries at the end of the interrogation. What kind of accused murderer shouted “I’ll kill you” as their plea of innocence? When he wasn’t running his mouth with threats, he’d been pleading with Es like some kind of coward. And Minato has heard all of it. Fuuta could only imagine the horrors that the extraction held. Who could forgive him after they saw his anger, or worse, his pleasure? Who could ever look kindly on someone like that?

“I would.”

Fuuta’s eyes widened. He let himself sink further into the wall. A strangled laugh escaped him. He let his head hang down. No matter how much he wanted to protest, Minato was as honest as they come. If he said he forgave Fuuta, he meant it. 

“Yeah, like I said, no one in their right mind.”

Minato cracked a smile. 

“You don’t think I’m in my right mind?”

Fuuta scoffed. “You post pictures of clothes for a living. And in your free time, you plan impossible jailbreaks for murderers. Doesn’t sound quite sane to me.”

“Aw, come on. Do you think it’s impossible?” 

Minato was still smirking, ready for some more of their typical back and forth. Fuuta surprised him by pausing. 

“Well, it should be impossible. But…”

They’d been speaking for some time now. Whether it was quick comments when Es wasn’t around or long conversations into the night. Fuuta had seen many sides of him, and knew that he had what it took. He wasn’t like the vast majority of internet personalities – weak or needy or inexperienced. He’d proved himself time and time again. If anyone could pull this off, it would be Minato. 

“If it’s you… there’s a chance.”

“You’ve got that right. You can count on me, alright?”

Fuuta took a deep breath. The tightness of the uniform and the bandages seemed to lessen.

“Although,” Minato put on a falsely serious voice, “we’re gonna have a long talk when you get out… about that yellow jacket you own.”

“Haaah? What’s wrong with my jacket?’

“There are a hundred stylish ways to wear it and that was not one.”

“The fuck does that mean?” 

“You’ll be grateful when someone who ‘posts pictures of clothes for a living’ helps with your wardrobe.” 

Fuuta could feel his chest release even more. Minato spoke so easily about the future, as if it were something real and waiting for him. 

“As if I’d let you touch any of my outfits.”

“As if you could stop me!”

He took another breath. He smiled. No drowning today.

---

After checking the clock fourteen times, Fuuta thought once more couldn’t hurt. It was still two minutes to noon, just like the last few times he’d checked. His frequent checking hadn’t brought the train to the station any faster.

Minato had told him that he was safe. He’d said this meeting wasn’t that big of a risk. The dust had settled. He just had to relax. 

The announcement overhead signaled the next stop was his. It screeched into the station, a slight murmur rising as the doors opened onto a platform of moving people. 

Fuuta lowered his head. His eyepatch would surely draw attention to himself, so he kept his hood down and his mask up. He just needed to make it to the station entrance. 

He made his way around stiff businessmen and sticky children. He tried to shuffle around a young man, but he seemed to step further into Fuuta’s path. Giving the stranger a quick glance, he started to mumble something to squeeze past. 

“Fuuta,” the man said, gaping in surprise. “It’s me.”

He inhaled sharply.

It was only three words, but it was enough to recognize his voice from a thousand conversations. 

Fuuta’s eye widened as he took Minato in. It was strange to finally see his face. Finally, here was the person he’d spent hours talking to. The person he’d spent days passing the time with. The person he’d spent nights falling for. Here was the one who had saved his life, in more ways than he could count.

His first observation was, fuck, this guy is way outta my league. His next was, he’s shorter than I was expecting. Then, gah, I’m probably shorter than he was expecting. He was in the middle of realizing, he has the nicest smile I think I’ve ever seen, when Minato crushed him in a hug.

Fuuta returned the embrace. His arms tightened around Minato. He was real. He was here. Fuuta’s hands grasped at his clothes and his hair. He was unable to control a laugh bubbling up inside of him. 

“You did it. My god, you did it.”

He breathed into Minato’s shoulder. His chest shook with some laughter, some tears. 

For a moment wondered if people would notice the heartfelt reunion outside of the train, then he realized he didn’t care in the slightest. 

Minato was laughing along with him in that beautiful, familiar voice of his. No more crackling speakers or hidden intercoms – he spoke right into his ear, hair tickling his cheek. Fuuta could have stayed forever in his arms, just like that. All that mattered was he felt safe. At last, he felt happy.

Talk about impossible. 

[brutal-nemesis]

big question!! dude can we please see a scene in the AU where castys has his tongue cut off and he has to deal with that? like man, the shock and the pain and the fuckin grief? and neteri just being herself ofc

anyway the latest erebus chapter was heartbreaking you’re so good at being awful to these lads (i can’t stop reading)

Thank you I try,,,,,

Okay strap in fellas I think this is banger as hell I had a great time and let me know if you have any other requests for the AU!

Ingredients: shockingly, tongue gets cut off! some suffocation as well

Castys wasn’t great at sitting in chairs normally, something his parents had always reprimanded him for, but, hey, they’d never taken it as far as to fucking tie him to one, and Castys was grateful. This shit was uncomfortable. Like, yeah, the rough ropes around his wrists and ankles were tight and itchy, but also the position just sucked. Not that he’d rather be standing or something-

“You must be Castys!” The door had swung open, and now this little lady with a white coat on was walking up to him. 

“Yes, I’m Castys,” he said flatly as she scurried behind him before coming back without her bag. And then she just…stared at him. Castys wasn’t sure what she was looking at, since there really wasn’t much to see, just, like, him. Eventually her eyes wandered up to his, and she jumped in place a bit.

“Oh, right, I’m Neteri.” She stuck her hand out like she expected him to shake it.

“You know I’m tied up, right?”

“Ah. Yeah.” Her skin was dark enough that it wasn’t immediately obvious that she was blushing, but Castys was pretty sure she was. She ended up awkwardly grabbing his right hand and shaking it a bit. “I, um, I’ll be preparing you for this afternoon. Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Well, you’re not tied to a chair so I think you’ll be okay.”

She laughed. “You’re right, you’re right, but I’m just…I think I’m going to do something I’m not supposed to do.”

Castys raised an eyebrow. “Let me go because I’m funny?”

Neteri rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, so clearly she did think he was funny. “No, you’re staying put, sorry bud. But I think I’m going to keep you. You’re kind of perfect.” She tried to cup his cheek in her hand, but Castys leaned away, staring at her with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His mouth was really dry all of a sudden, he wasn’t perfect, he was a fuck-up, a useless heir, that had been his goal, he wasn’t good at anything he was supposed to be good at, he wasn’t well-mannered or polite, he had a huge fucking scar on his face and a lopsided smile because of it, he was filthy and vulgar and didn’t have any interest in getting married he was absolutely anything but perfect. So why the hell did she want him?

“It’s not important right now. You’ve got a big day ahead of you!” She clapped her hands, dismissing the subject entirely. He wanted to press her further, but after seeing the lovely object she pulled out of her pocket, everything else was forgotten.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Aw, what are you gonna do about it, Castys? I thought you were tied to a chair!” Great, now it was his turn to feel his face grow hot, because, yeah, what the fuck was he gonna do?

Normally, he doubted he’d immediately recognize it for what it was, but today, right now, after just being told this lady wanted to keep him, it was instantly clear. And Neteri was right, he was only able to squirm uselessly and lean away as she wrapped the collar around his neck without much trouble. His first swallow after she’d sealed it shut felt horrible, and he absolutely did not want to get used to it.

“See, it’s not so bad. It looks cute on you!” She ruffled his hair, which only made Castys more uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to be cute. I’m not a fucking dog.” He wasn’t sure whether the collar was part of Neteri’s weird desires or just to humiliate him, but either way he hated it.

“No, you’re not, but you’re also not a prince anymore, and you’re the property of the Xernan Empire, and this is a good reminder of that,” Neteri said as she walked around behind him, probably to her bag. Castys rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to be reminded that he wasn’t a prince, since it was his favorite new development in all of this. Unless…unless it wasn’t just a reminder for him, but for everyone else, too…He really, really hoped there wasn’t going to be some sort of public display, but given how Neteri’d said he had a “big day” ahead…fuck, that was probably the case, huh?

“Now, I’m going to…oh, I might get in so much trouble for this,” Neteri muttered as she stared at the floor, standing in front of him once again. She had leather gloves on, which would have been nice earlier when she was touching him, and she was holding…a pair of shears? He didn’t think she’d put on gloves if she was just going to cut his hair, and given that she thought she might get in trouble for it, it seemed like she was going to…maim him somehow. Castys curled his hands into fists as Neteri slapped her cheeks with her palms, still talking to herself. “No, I’m going to do this. I deserve it. It’s not that far off from what the emperor wants. Okay,” she held the shears up and gave Castys a concerningly bright smile. “Any last words?”

For once, Castys didn’t take the opportunity to speak.

Instead, he locked his jaw shut tight, teeth clenched so hard it hurt, lips pressed together, walls of protection around his tongue. 

That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?

Neteri cocked her head, watching him. “Nothing to say all of a sudden? No jokes?” Her smile disappeared as her eyes narrowed. “You figured it out, didn’t you, Castys? What I’m going to do to you.”

He didn’t bother nodding.

Neteri stepped up to him, her knee on the chair in between his legs, leaning over him, her face right above his as he craned back to avoid her. “You’re going to have to get used to obeying me, Castys.” The cold metal of the shears rested on his cheek. “So open your mouth.”

If there’s one thing Castys was good at, it was disobeying orders.

After a few moments of neither of them moving, Neteri pinched Castys’s nose shut with her free hand, not saying a word. Fine, he could play that game. Hold on as the pressure in his chest built, as his head started to spin, as his vision started to darken, every fiber of his being screaming at him to just give in to the inevitable and take a breath. He could do it quick, a little gasp, fast enough that she wouldn’t be able to do anything. Okay, three, two…

The exhale was shaky, but it was fine, just a quick inhale as he snapped his mouth shut-

His teeth scraped against metal, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

Neteri stared at him with a detached coldness as she rotated the shears, forcing his jaw open wide, wide enough for her to stick her hand in and grab his tongue, pulling it out despite his attempts to pull it back, turning the shears to the side now, opening them up, the cold blades-

Snip.

Castys’s mouth was hot it was burning he was choking the smell of blood was so strong he was suffocating on it her hand was still in his mouth her fingers pressed against his wound magic piercing through his jaw he’d scream if he had the air and then that was it her hand was gone he lurched forward coughing and spitting blood and saliva all down the front of the threadbare shirt he’d been given and once he saw the discarded little piece of pink flesh on the floor he couldn’t look at anything else he couldn’t believe that was it it was gone it wasn’t in his mouth his mouth was empty there was only the blood still dripping out and when Neteri laid a hand on his back he wanted to growl at her not to touch him but he couldn’t he couldn’t say anything anymore he was quiet nothing to say no thoughts or opinions of his own just how his parents had wanted him-

“It’s alright, Castys, just breathe. It was a little more difficult than it needed to be, but you did it.” And why did it need to be at all? “Just two more things left today and then you can rest. And then hopefully…” Her hand slid up, resting on the back of his neck, on that awful collar, and Castys wanted to scream. He never, ever wanted to belong to her.

But what he wanted didn’t matter anymore.

Castys was dragged out and whipped and branded and left out on display, brought back and patched up by Neteri and given soup that he couldn’t taste, and when the door slammed shut behind her, he finally allowed himself to cry.

His back and chest hurt, of course, the wounds aggravated no matter how he moved or what position he laid in, but he could deal with it. It was nothing compared to what he’d lost, the little pocket of empty space inside his mouth.

Words were all he’d ever have to really fight back, complaining when he was forced to do things he didn’t want to, scaring off all the suitors his parents picked out, jokes keeping him calm when he was scared or upset, even when he couldn’t do anything he could still say something, make sure everyone knew how he felt, and now he was more helpless than ever before and he couldn’t say a single fucking thing. 

He didn’t even know where he was going to end up, either sold off to some asshole or left in Neteri’s clutches, and no matter what, he wasn’t going to be treated like a person. The collar made it pretty clear. He was less than human now, a pet, a lab rat, property, something that didn’t need to have thoughts or opinions anymore. 

He’d rather be a prince after all.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump 

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump​ 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​

@whumpedydump

[yellowocaballero]

Please read "the s-classes i raised" for insane women. :D

Yesss!! That's the only other work in the male oriented OP gamer genre I've read! :D

Fully agree that the insane women are great. I love the hip teen who can snap you like a twig, cool girlboss guild leader who can snap you like a twig, and terrible yet entertaining person who can snap you like a twig. We have such a good diversity of women that I'd even forgive a love interest at this point.

It is genuinely a very cute work. A good palate cleanser for everything else. Definitely a reaction to Solo Leveling, since it is the exact opposite of Solo Leveling in every conceivable way while still having identical worldbuilding. The first chapter surprised me when it depicted just a warm and sincere and meaningful "I love you!" between two men, and that energy is maintained. It's actioney but sweet. The MC does not start out as Your Literal Mother and then transform into a badass who can beat anybody up - he says as Your Literal Mother, becomes very good at being Your Literal Mother, brainwashes you a bit?, and as a result in the moments when somebody kidnaps his cat and he does go apeshit, it's very satisfying. Very much more proof that a good supporting cast is everything.

It is funny to read this sweet and pretty straight-forward character-wise work and then immediately open up orv to read a chapter straight of kdj going absolutely insane and manipulating the Greek pantheon to steal a godhood. And you're like ah. orv is...really another level. Of insane. It is not normal behavior. I'm putting it next to Animorphs as a work that is genuinely uncrossover-able.

Obviously, I have a better version in my head. I would have tweaked a few things. I especially liked the idea of making Big Bro and Lil Bro estranged because of more than just...super shitty communication. Have them actually estranged because they have bad habits, they can be ugly to each other, they can get on each other's nerves. Have the gap be created naturally and have the fame and demon contract prevent a bridge from ever being built again. Genuine sibling shit. Give Big Bro MC actual regrets for how he treated him.

I would have the Yandere thing be new. Because in the new universe his brother is lowkey brainwashed into loving him simply and unconditionally and prettily - no more messiness, no more rough edges hurting each other. MC is no longer a person and is instead an abstract idea of perfection. And it's pretty easy to cut off the vague ideal of a brother's arm or dehumanize him. And it would involve MC realizing that he would have rather had the messiness and hurt and sharp edges than the perfection.

[elegyofthemoon]

hiiii i want to do some letters/little notes for people again for the holidays do any mutuals want them ? :>

[slasherscream]

really wish people would read blog rules more, it makes running blogs like this very low reward and you feel like a machine if people aren't commenting and aren't even abiding by one of the, honestly, very few and politely phrased rules i even have