#thank you so much for the request!!

[brotherconstant]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE ➤ Timestamp Roulette 1x05 A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart 🧡 @tea-cryptid 🧡

[heybiji]

I'd love to see Dandelion laughing! I love to see him and I want him to be happy.

Dande had a good laugh last session after playing around with stilts and falling into a pond.

[leavingautumn13]

request: could i get fo4 piper dressed as the silver shroud pretty please 🤞

it's a good look on her!

[good-beanswrites]

Could you write a drabble for Mikoto and Shidou plus Blood? This request miiight be inspired by the fact that Mikoto mentions his body hurting a lot but doesn't seem to be receiving any medical treatment, either because Mahiru and Fuuta take priority or because there's no obvious cause, and therefore cure, to his pain...

👀👀👀 Thank you, this is such a good combo ough!! It's so interesting how much focus the others get when it comes to physical health, since Mikoto has clearly complained of his condition :( It looks like Milgram is trying to push the idea that he's completely oblivious to his alters, but I spun it where he's aware, just deep in denial. So have some Mikoto angst to get us hyped for Double!

Mikoto should be grateful. He was lucky. That’s what he kept repeating to himself. He had both of his eyes intact. Both his arms. He was strong enough to walk around freely. He wasn’t on the verge of death, or collapse. Thus, he should be grateful no one was offering him any help, because it meant he didn’t need it. He repeated it again. Maybe this time he would believe it.

With a groan, his body rolled out of bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up actually feeling rested. Everything ached. His muscles tightened with soreness. His throat felt as raw as his knuckles, though he hadn’t been using either. He had no desire to lift his arms over his head, or twist around too much, so he didn’t change out of yesterday’s uniform. Maybe the belts and buckles had made it difficult to sleep. The theory wasn’t a convincing one, but dwelling on things like that had never gotten him anywhere.

He ran his fingers once through his hair, combing out a bit of the mess. Looking in a mirror was the last thing he needed. He made his way to the dining hall. 

The others trickled in for breakfast. His appetite, at least, hadn’t suffered. He hardly noticed the others giving him wide-eyed stares. What were they expecting? Of course he was looking worse for wear, given the circumstances. He ignored them, glad to focus on the hot meal before him.

A hand weighed heavy on his shoulder.

“Mikoto,” Shidou’s voice may have remained calm, but it was urgent. “Do you need some help?”

“Huh?” He shrugged his hand away, offering a weak smile. “I’m fine! Oh, I think Kazui was saving a seat for you over there, if you --”

“-- How about we go to my cell for a moment? Or yours, if that would be more comfortable.”

What was everyone’s problem this morning? Mikoto did his best to keep his voice pleasant. “Really, man, I’m good.” 

Shidou’s expression remained unmoving. Very carefully, he informed him, “you’re bleeding. Pretty badly by the look of it. You’re coming with me.” 

Mikoto blinked. He looked over his shoulder, following Shidou’s gaze. The back of his uniform was torn across the center. A significant splotch of blood seeped into the material, growing even larger as he shifted to see it. 

“...Oh…” 

Back in Shidou’s cell, sad to have left his breakfast plate behind, he slumped into a chair. Shidou gathered together some supplies. As always, he got right to the point. “What happened?”

“I… I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t remember most nights, recently. I know that sounds crazy, but…”

“It’s fine. I have definitely heard crazier.” He smiled, something gentle and reassuring. As usual, there was something hidden behind his eyes. It was as if he already knew what Mikoto was up to late at night that earned him so much soreness the following days. He didn’t offer an explanation, though. Mikoto didn’t press him for one.

He winced as he was helped out of his uniform. Removing his shirt revealed the mysterious gash. Shidou’s eyes widened at the array of scratches and scars. Some were fresh, but most originated long before Milgram. Though he didn’t ask, Mikoto answered.

“I’m pretty clumsy, huh?” Maybe this time he would believe it. 

Shidou was kind enough to pretend to. “Here, allow me…”

Shidou got to work cleaning and dressing the injuries. Mikoto closed his eyes. Even though the disinfectant stung, and sometimes those gloved fingers pressed a little two hard, it felt nice to have things patched up. 

“Is there anything else going on? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”

Mikoto could have laughed. He didn’t. “I’m just sore. And my head’s been killing me, but I’m used to migraines. Perks of the verdict, I’m sure.”

Shidou hummed in thought. 

“Thanks, by the way. I’ll try to be more careful.” Not that he had much choice in the matter, it seemed. But he’d do his best. 

Shidou kept his face straight, but there were traces of pain in his voice. “I will too. I’m sorry, Mikoto. If I had known… I’ve been distracted lately, but I should have paid closer attention.”

“It’s fine,” he flashed a grin. “I know the others are pretty fucked up. And I’m not dying or anything. I’m lucky, you know?”

“I wouldn’t say so. Doctors don’t only treat the dying.”

Mikoto frowned. 

It didn’t take much longer to finish treatment. Shidou gave him a few instructions about the bandages, then offered him a clean shirt. “You’re good to go. I’ll be checking in more often, now. I’ll see if I can find something for your head.” 

“Thanks. Really.”

He returned Mikoto’s torn uniform. “You should talk to Es about getting a new one. Until then, you’ll want to clean this with --”

Mikoto waved a dismissive hand, heading out of the cell. “Don’t worry, I know how to wash blood out of my clothes. Er, that sounds bad. I’m just a clutz, yeah? The blood’s always been my own.”

Maybe this time he would believe it.

[waterfallofspace]

30 + 46 for v/ashw/ood (with v/ash sneezing) if you feel like it? I love what you’ve been writing for these!

Thank you for the ask, non!! and I'm so glad you've been enjoying them~~ Here is some V/ashwood, and I decided to make them actually an item for this one just for the heck of it, so hopefully that's acceptable hehe~ (Not confirmed dating, but they do kiss, so you can think of it as 'actual boyfriends' or just 'they kiss but haven't talked about it', whatever you would like!) 1.8k, prompts 30 and 46, story under cut! 30. “What’s got you all worked up?” 46. Touching their nose leading to a sneeze (References to swearing and tiny mention of drinking, just in case anyone doesn't like those!)

~~~~~~~

“ketNG’uhh-!” 

“ehTDGnn’huh-!”

"hh’nGkT-!”

By the third, Wolfwood’s book is forgotten on the table, attention solely on the spiky haired man lounging on the couch next to him. In response to his intense gaze, Vash blushes, then raises a fist to crush his nose as another breaks through his defenses.

“haH’EnxgD’uhh-!”

“Are ya almost finished, blondie? My reading is slightly disturbed by the constant noise.” 

A sheepish grin is the response, Vash pawing at his nose once more in what Wolfwood can only assume is an attempt to starve off further interruptions. ‘I don’t think he’s sick, he’d be practically quarantining himself to avoid getting us all sick like usual by now.’ 

“Yeah- yeah, sorry. I’m all done.”

“If you say so.”

Just as the book enters Wolfwood’s hands he hears Vash’s breath catch. His eyebrows climb seemingly on their own as he meets Vash’s gaze over the book.

“You sure you’re done?” 

“heHh-! Yea- aHHhh-! Okay fine, I lied, s- sorry I have to- heh’NGTzz’uh-! knDT’huh-!” 

“Don’t need to ‘pologize, it’s just sneezing.” 

“ndJZT-! Thanks, sor- I mean, uh, thanks..? Or maybe I should sa-”

“Spikey, you’re making my head spin. Just take a breath, you ain’t in trouble.” 

Wolfwood retorts, not missing the wince Vash lets out as he attempts to inhale through his nose. ‘Obviously congested. Given the way he’s holding those in, I’m surprised his head ain’t exploded yet.’ 

“hH’dNch’taa-!”

“Alright, what’s got you all worked up?”

“Wha- nothing, I’m alright, nothing’s up. haH’INgtchaa-! heHh-! Ihh… hehH-! hNGT-!guhhh…” 

The heady sigh that follows sends shivers up Wolfwood’s spine. ‘Christ, if that made me uncomfortable, the hell is it doing to him? Guess I smacked him a little too hard last time he let one out, slapped the common sense right out of his head. The whole point was that we were hiding, not that he was sneezing.’ And yet, instead of voicing his concern, Wolfwood takes a role he finds easier, letting a witty retort slide out. 

“Well that’s obviously not nothing. I wasn’t born yesterday needle noggin, despite you apparently thinkin’ I was.”

Pausing for a second, Wolfwood lets the concern bubbling up in his chest spill over into his tone, placing a hand on Vash’s leg, eyes softening.

“Just tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“Okay, alright… I might be just a touch sensitive…” 

“Common knowledge.”

Vash lets out a grin, raising a hand to his chest mockingly, before his rambling continues, leg starting to shake, bringing the couch along with him. Trying to maintain focus, Wolfwood can feel his attention being drawn to the vibrations. Something within him stirs, memories starting to flood into his mind. The car shaking around him, watching Vash sleep, the way his tongue dips out against his lips whenever they hit a bump… ‘Damn it, focus!’ 

“Ouch, Nicholas. What I meant was- well okay maybe it’s easier to explain- well see- hold on… eh’KnDG’taa-! Scuse me, sorry, so what happened was, well-” 

“Just spit it out already, blondie. Beginning to feel like a rock during an earthquake over here.” 

A blush starts to pierce its way through Vash’s soft features, a warm tint mirroring the action on Wolfwood’s own cheeks. ‘Why does he look so damn adorable when he’s blushing? It’s wholly unfair. How’s a man supposed to stand firm when the accused looks so-’ 

“Meryl bought some kind of new spray”

The voice slices through his thoughts, sending Wolfwood careening back into the conversation. 

“What?”

“She bought this new spray, I think it might be a perfume, but it might also be something for the car… all I know is she was using it earlier and I’m-” 

A silence settles, Wolfwood finding himself watching Vash’s face contort as another sneeze works its way through his system. ‘It starts with his nose scrunching, then his eyes flutter, but they don’t shut. He’s fighting it, his hand comes up to rub it away, but the action only leads to his chest shaking… likely he just made the tickle worse. Then, sensing defeat, he’ll pinch his nose shut and-’ 

“INgT-!”

‘But his nose isn’t so easily satisfied. He barely gets another breath in before-’

“heH’KNDT-!uhh…” 

‘And since he’s still not let it out, there’s gonna be a thir-’ 

‘H’AInG’taa-!” 

‘So far there’s always been at least three.’ 

“Slightly allergic.” 

“‘Slightly allergic’, huh? Just when did you come in contact with this spray?”

“M- maybe an hour ago..?” 

“And you’re still sneezing this much? That’s hardly ‘slight’, Vash.” 

At the sound of his name, Wolfwood watches Vash’s face darken three shades, a bright smile bursting onto his cheeks. It’s quickly quelled by the incessant tickle returning once more, eyes going blank as his mouth tips open.

“hh’GnDT-! aINGT’uhh-! haH’DTN’shh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks, sorry. It really isn’t that bad, I promise, it’s just that… well… I came in here immediately after, and you were here already, so…”

“So?” “It’s a bit embarrassing…” 

Wolfwood laughs, gesturing to Vash with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Trust me, I’ve dealt with embarrassing. Have you seen you after a few too many drinks? You were hitting on a rock for almost 20 minutes.”

The comments trigger a deeper blush, Vash lightly swatting at his arm, but they seem to serve their purpose. His eyes have lost the hint of anxiety they were holding before, replacing it with an air of warmth that’s so distinctly Vash. 

“I just need to… sneeze it out. It usually stops after that.”

“That’s all? In that case, I doubt holdin’ em in like you’ve been doin’ is helping remedy the situation.” 

“N- not exactly… but it’s a habit!”

“Where was this ‘habit’ when we were hiding?”

Vash’s response is to rub his nose again, a timid whine escaping as he lets out a “That happened one time…” in reply. Wolfwood smirks, raising himself from the chair and strutting over to the couch, perching beside him, prompting Vash to sit up.

“What are yo-”

Wolfwood silences him by resting a finger between his eyes, laughter vibrating his chest as Vash attempts to cross his eyes to get a better look. Slowly Wolfwood lets his finger trace the bridge of Vash’s nose, the appendage trembling at the attention. He pauses right before the tip, making sure Vash meets his gaze.

“Don’t you dare hold these in, blondie. This is a one time deal, I won’t be offering this service again.”

A nod is all he gets in reply, Vash’s tongue sticking out between his teeth as he gasps, the hitchy quality of each inhale suggesting nodding is all he’s able to manage. Wolfwood responds by tapping the tip, letting his finger brush against his flaring nostrils as he pull away. The result is instant.

“heIShh’aa-! heh’aiyshh’oo-!” 

Vash manages to get his arm up in time to cover the third, “eH’GNshH’iuhh-!” gesturing frantically at Wolfwood for something better to cover with.

“Nic- hddjzshhh’oo-! hh’AIYDZshh’oo-! Nicholas- hAiYshh’aa-! T-tihhSHH’oo-!” 

“Managing to ask for a tissue with a sneeze, pretty impressive, blondie.”

The watery glare he’s met with is entirely for show, the giggle between shaky exhales giving away the truth. ‘He never was able to hide what he really felt. I used to think it was a curse, but the more time I spend with him, the more I’m beginning to think it’s a gift. One I don’t share.’ 

“eHH’GZshh’oo-! Nico, pleaahhh-! Please! hh’DjZshh’aa-!”

“Huh? Oh, right, sorry. I just have a couple napkins I swiped from the car, but they’re clean, if you wan-”

He’s cut off as Vash grabs them, face never leaving his arm. Wolfwood finds himself rubbing loose circles on Vash’s back, chuckling lightly at the groan that escapes after the deep blow. Brushing away the hairs that fell loose during the fit, Wolfwood offers a murmured blessing.

“Bless you.” 

“Th- thank you… and uh… sorry about- eH’dzShh’aa-! Well, that… I know it’s gros-” 

Wolfwood cuts him off with an eye roll, grabbing Vash’s arm and dragging him into a deep kiss. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, but without fail Vash collapses into the embrace every time it occurs. And, without fail, Wolfwood has to break it so they can both breathe, Vash seemingly content to faint in order to keep their lips touching.

“You’re not gross, blondie. Not to me.”

“Tha-”

“Plus, your sneezes are frankly adorable. Nothing compared to mine.”

A melodic laugh dances out of Vash’s chest, Wolfwood finding himself enchanted by the sound. The warmth in his chest spreads to his ears as Vash giggles out-

“I remember the first time you had a cold, nearly killed us all!”

“Hey, it ain’t my fault Meryl’s so jumpy. Woman nearly crashed us into a fucking rock because I had to clear my sinuses.”

Vash laughs harder, tears starting to sprout in the corners of his eyes as he leans into Wolfwood for support. ‘I could listen to this sound forever… if this was the only thing I got to hear for the rest of my life, I would be content.’ 

“heH’aizshh’oo-!”

“Bless you. Not quite done, then?”

“Just a couple leftover tickles, I promise.” 

His nose still has a pink flush, but Wolfwood notices the twitching has stopped, so he decides to take Vash at his word for now. ‘Though if this interaction has been anything to go on, I’d better get that spray away from Meryl before she sparks another reaction. I doubt he has the self preservation to say anything himself.’

“I’ll have a talk with Meryl about not using that spra-”

“No! Nicholas you can’t! She was so excited, and she’ll feel so bad if she finds out, I can’t do that to her over a few sneezes, really, I’ll be fine!”

“Alright, alright. Jeez blondie, don’t blow a fuse. I’ll keep your secret. For now, you should go change. You probably still have some of that spray lingering on your clothes.”

“heH’iDZshh’aa-! I hadn’t even thought of that.”

A smirk works its way over Vash’s face, eyes lit with mischief that, frankly, still sets Wolfwood’s chest on fire, no matter how many times he sees it. As Vash practically purrs out his question, Wolfwood finds himself resisting the urge to pin him to the couch to kiss him again.

“Can I borrow another one of your shirts?”

In lieu of a response, Wolfwood stands, heading towards his room, Vash in toe. As they pass Meryl’s, Wolfwood lets a plan form. ‘If Meryl just happens to misplace the spray, Vash gets to keep being the good guy, Meryl doesn’t have to feel bad, and I don’t have to watch him attempt to subdue another attack. Everybody wins.’ 

Glancing back at Vash’s slightly pink nose as he attempts to rub it against his shoulder while walking, unsuccessfully, Wolfwood lets a smirk flash across his features once more, dropping a step, hand grabbing Vash’s with a light squeeze. 

‘If this is what my life’s been leading to, well… I guess it was worth it after all.’ 

[rei-is-hiding]

draw maizula pleaseeee 🙏 just one, Or maitara 🥺🤲

One soft Maizula for youu ~

[firewoodwander]

For the mistletoe prompts, Bly/Doom with 13. While dancing? (nooneherebutusghosts)

Mistletoe prompts

@nooneherebutusghosts 🤍

They were never taught anything so frivolous as dancing when they were cadets. Luckily for Bly, Doom has an incredible talent for mimicking the movements and mannerisms of natborns near-perfectly—and Bly has always been rather attuned to following his lead.

He can hear Aayla laughing on the sidelines, a sharp and purely joyful sound. General Billaba comes whirling past a moment later, in the arms of Grey’s favourite captain, just a little more enthusiastic than they are artful in their sweeping spins. Billaba’s cloak swoops and billows around the feet of General Windu who is also leading his embarrassed but devoted teenaged grandpadawan through a smooth waltz in Bly’s peripheral.

He can be grateful, he thinks, that Aayla hasn’t attempted any inevitably less-than-graceful turns about the impromptu dance floor with him.

The Jedi have strung soft glowing lights throughout the greenery and winding paths of the Temple Gardens, which are beautiful enough in the day but something approaching unearthly in the golden night. There’s a substantial orchestra of older initiates who didn’t make it to the battlefield before the end of the war, each set up with delicate instrument in hand, each beaming with pride between every piece they perform for their celebrating audience. Master Yoda perches on a stand in front of their stage and conducts them with a palpable air of satisfaction, even for the Force-inept like Bly.

None of this feels real: not the gardens, nor the gathered mix of clones and Jedi and Navy and down-dressed anti-war politicians. Least of all, Bly thinks, is that he and Doom are both here at the end of it all, alive despite the very many times they scraped themselves back together with sheer force of will.

Doom smiles at him: a small and private thing that never fails to make Bly’s heart turn over and ache. His eyes alight with something horribly soft, almost vulnerable, and reflecting each tiny tree light like he himself is dusted with gold.

Bly looks away. He doesn’t know if he can bear the emotional vortex weighing in his chest quite yet, quite like this. But, over Doom’s shoulder, he spots something familiar in the branches of a nearby fruit tree.

“Oh no,” Doom says, his voice a murmur but his trepidation clear as day. “I know that look.”

Bly grins at him, then steers them gradually between the gathered crowd. “Do you trust me?”

Huffing, Doom tightens his arm around Bly’s waist and leans in close. “Unfortunately.”

“Of course you do. Look up.”

Doom does. His brow furrows for barely a handful of seconds, the scar drawn down the length of his face pulling as his expression changes.

“Mistletoe,” he breathes.

As they watch, a small branch of pale silver berries unfurls and reaches spindly arms down toward them. It’s slow, but not so slow as to be unnoticeable, and Bly hears Doom catch his breath at the unbelievable sight.

“Jedi, huh,” Bly laughs.

Doom looks back down at him. He just stares for a moment, watching Bly’s face. Intent and content to stand under this tree and hold each other close.

“We won the war,” he says eventually. “The Jedi can do whatever the stars they want.”

When he tilts his chin and kisses Bly, Bly moves with him willingly and delighted, imagining the bubbling beginnings of hope taking root around them.

[whitequeen-ofwillowgreen]

📘 For the lyrics : "My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies / Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die" (Of course I had to chose a Queen song)

These lyrics 😭 I was unsure how to properly portray them but I had an idea and ran with it. I had black paper that I painted with metallic gold and then wrote the lyrics with my black gel pen. I thought the aesthetic would be interesting to you 😊

✭ 90s Celebration ✭

[the-starry-skye]

nadia van dyne moodboard requested by anon

[chronologiical]

7C for Mordred? My bby knight in shining (read: bloody) armor deserves a good, restful sleep

she also deserves a good father!

[maybepolly]

@miles-edgyworth​ older men are hard to draw. also diego is really hard to draw for some reason?? but i tried!!!

they’re reminiscing <3

i may take a while with the next sketches, please be patient!

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

Christmas Cranboo please? I miss them.

He was trying to decorate the tree

[acacia-may]

Today is my man Zora’s birthday, may I request a fluff friendship story of him with the Black Bulls during the holidays?

Hi anon! Thank you so much for sending in this request! Since it was for some holiday fluff and Zora's birthday, I tried to get it written right away. I hope you will like it!

Cheers and Happy Holidays!

[kaereth]

Marcille and Falin on a double date with Kiki and Namari for a kofi request! Get teased Namari lol

[erwinsvow]

Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint

Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.

"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.

you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.

you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.

"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.

"i know, i just-"

"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."

you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.

"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.

"kid, stop-"

"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."

that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.

"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.

"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.

"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.

you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.

"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.

"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.

"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"

"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.

"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.

"alright, we're leavin'."

[artgroves]

Ultimate meetcute for @mercurialmisfitmusings