#the build up to that scene is SO FUN

[philliamwrites]

A scene where reader gives Jean a big hug- jealous eren level 300 activated . It be even worse if reader does it on purpose to test erens feelings for her

MORE VIOLENCE

now you've done it.

here's a snippet i didn't want to share for the LONGEST time for SPOILER reasons, but now you get it.

Jean looks up at you. “Your turn.” You’ve thought long about it. Now, you move over to the bed and lie before him. Hooking your finger under the hem of your shirt, you slowly pull it up, maintaining eye contact with him. Jean is very still. From across the room, you can hear Eren take in a sharp breath. “I want it on my ribs,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. You can feel your body go hard as a board in anticipation of the pain. “Relax,” Jean mumbles. His wide hand splays over your skin, pulling it taut to get an even surface. You exhale, and try not to think too much how your skin prickles from his touch, your heartbeat beneath your ribs like a bird fluttering in a cage. When he goes to work, you try to lay very still, your eyes gently pressed shut. Jean doesn’t say anything more, getting into the rhythm of the work. He brushes the ink and blood away, leaning closer. He wipes and pricks and wipes and pricks until the very last stroke. Then, when it’s over and you open your eyes, you see Jean bowing his head against your side, his eyes half-shut. You feel the urge to push your fingers through his hair for a moment—just like Ida used to do to calm him down. The moment breaks when the door falls shut with a bang, and when you turn, you don’t see Eren in the room anymore.

have fun digesting that

(they're getting tattoos but i'm not gonna tell you what it is lmao that's gonna be a heartbreak for another time)

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2

The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy

Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing

Word Count; 2.7 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past. 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted) 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?

But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.

His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down. 

The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.

And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.

When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.

But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!” 

Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.

As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”

Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.

Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.

Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.

…

Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.

At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.

Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route. 

Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–

“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.

The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.

The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?

In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.

Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome… 

Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie. 

… Well this is no good now, is it?

…

…

…

 When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.

Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.

The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”

You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.

The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”

Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.

Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.

He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.” 

You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?” 

Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.” 

Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.” 

You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!

“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?

…

…

Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485

Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.

“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”

A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further. 

Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE! 

Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.

“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”

The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”

…

…

…

…

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Culture Shock

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[charcubed]

THERE'S NOTHING LIKE YOU & I a Good Omens season 2 playlist

Quiet, gentle, romantic, and a little bit devastating – roughly in story order. For being lonely together across 6,000 years and aching for the freedom to love.

On Spotify Here

(Previous editions: Soft To Be Strong – Good Omens season 1 | Crowley/Aziraphale upbeat song dump)

[novantinuum]

when the blind reactors you watch are starting to get into the Nitty Gritty of plot and you are going to have to be Very Careful in your meta ramble comments from now on so as to not accidentally sway their thinking or Give Anything Away

[lemon-wedges]

...

[sskk-manifesto]

Finally got around to watching ep 11 (´；ω；｀)

[ickypuppi3]

billy accidentally nearly calling steve ‘sir’ during an argument one time

maybe steve’s pissed about something, maybe billy is, either way they’re having an argument

maybe steve backs billy against the wall for a minute, not thinking anything of it because it’s billy and billy can hold his own, can argue back

but then steve asks him a question, yells when he says it

and maybe billy flinches, forgets where he is

and that’s when it happens

you know a little “yes si-” and billy just freezes.. and steve’s staring at billy and trying to work out what billy was going to say and then he’s like oh..

..oh

and maybe he reaches out for billy but billy’s embarrassed so he tells steve to fuck off before getting the hell out of there

because he knows steve’s steve

knows steve would never lay a hand on him

not like that, not now

and billy’s so embarrassed

and he ends up avoiding steve for as long as he can, thinks that steve must think he’s a mess - even more of a mess - thinks that steve won’t get it.. not that billy really gets it either and that’s the problem

maybe billy just wants to forget it ever happened, wants steve to forget but he knows steve won’t because he’s steve.. he’s steve and he’ll want to talk about it

and billy doesn’t, because billy can’t explain it, doesn’t get it, doesn’t want to get it

doesn’t want to dig that deep

and steve’s all “you know i’d never hurt you, bills” “i’m not him” “you get that, don’t you?”

and billy refuses to even meet his eyes, knows it’s hurting them both but he doesn’t want to think about it

doesn’t want to talk about it

[ghost-proofbaby]

latest in 'ghost is going insane while writing': i'm sitting at my desk with a song on repeat, air playing guitar, so i can decipher strumming patterns and the notes which will literally only be mentioned in passing.

[crystallinecardinal]

I’ve been working on my Watcher!Grian Desert Duo fic (I Will Only Break Your Pretty Things) and I keep thinking about the progression Grian has to go through from seeing everything through a Watcher lens to reacquainting himself with being a player, as well as what that means, especially when it comes to actually taking care of himself during Third Life.

Long ramble about worldbuilding, Watchers, time, wings, pain, exhaustion, rest, neglect, and feeling safe after the cut. Or, just a really long thought process for a scene in which Scar helps Grian sleep one night in the desert.

I feel like Watchers don’t have to care for themselves in the same way players do. Which, sure, maybe that’s a given, even with the way this fic toys with and alters Watcher lore, but the basics of the idea are still there. Watchers are still beings that feast on emotion, I just like to expand on them a bit.

Point is: Watchers don’t need to physically eat, or sleep, or drink, or preen, or blink, or do anything that a mortal player would have to. Aches and pains aren’t felt by them. You’ll never hear a Watcher complain about a headache from overindulgence, or about unkempt wings. It simply Doesn’t Happen, especially not out in the Void. They are immortal, god-like beings that do not have to exist the same way players do by their very code and biology.

Which, in the end, I think would make it especially hard for Grian, both coming in to being a Watcher, and having most of his power stripped from him as he enters Third Life.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes in the Void. It’s like time is different, in a way, akin to sitting outside the edge of the event horizon of a black hole. To a player, time can feel much shorter or longer than it actually is. Months can speed by in an instant, and just the same, only a few weeks can pass when it feels like years. Time is just Weird in the Void. Watchers barely sense it. Time is infinite to a Watcher, they can manipulate it as they see fit in the worlds they observe.

When Grian first became a Watcher, I can imagine it wasn’t easy to get used to. Imagine, all your life, you’re mortal. Of course, mortal in the vague sense, respawning is a thing you know well. Any player knows about respawning, but the point is: you still can die. Suddenly, you fall into a place filled with stars, and are brought amongst the ranks of beings beyond your world. Just like that, you’re no longer human, if the new eyes and small wings that would surely grow and multiply with time said anything. And now, you don’t need to blink. You don’t feel hot, or cold, or anything. But you feel hungry, a dull sensation not quite like pain that ripples through your senses, spawning a new kind of instinct you aren’t familiar with. And as time presses on, you forget how it once was to be a player, and fall in line with the new normal.

I feel like during that time, lost in the Void, learning what it meant to be a Watcher, Grian felt time slow. It passed for him as it does all Watchers, but it felt like ages. And in the process, he learned how to feed on player emotion, the one thing all Watchers must do to survive, to maintain their code, and he lost himself. Gone was the player Grian, the one smiling amongst friends, and in was Xelqua, the Watcher who had forgotten what it meant to be human, gaze ceaseless.

So, that all leads to an issue. When you’ve forgotten your time as a player, how do you cope with turning mortal again? How do you deal with a new body, with aches in your wings and pain in your muscles? How do you relearn basic functions that don’t come with instinct, how do you learn to take care of yourself again?

It’s a simple answer if you’re Xelqua, taking your old name back: you put on a badly hidden facade, try to dismiss your failing memory, and cope.

Sure, maybe you relearn some of it, or at least the parts you’ve had to learn from years of Watching. Preening is part of that. You’ve only ever had wings as a Watcher, and even those barely had to be maintained. Now, you need to keep up with them as much as possible, and even worse: you can feel all of the sensations that come with it, and absolutely do not want to unpack that. And, of course, you’re trapped in a death game of your own design, meant to feed Watchers, all the while you feel a dull ache in your stomach. Lovely!

So, knowing all this, that brings me to the main thought I’ve been having: What if during the early parts of Third Life, back when Grian first left the Watchers and was stripped of his immortality, he felt vulnerable and unsafe when his eyes were closed?

He’s always had them open, for as long as he can remember. As said previously, Watchers don’t need to blink, Watchers don’t have to sleep, Watchers don’t have to take care of themselves like mortals do, so his eyes have always stayed open in some way. He always Watched, and never stopped, not even in idle dormancy. He’s never been without sight for what feels like years, and he’s never been threatened with pain and possible death for the same timeframe.

Now, stranded in his own death game, he feels like if at any moment he shuts his eyes, closes out his main avenue of sensing danger, then something could kill him. No one’s red yet, but danger still lurks around every corner. He’s not yet used to pain again, nor the way death feels, and it’s worse knowing that he only has three chances. He goes to the desert, bound by oath, and even there, there’s still an ever-present danger, but at least there’s distractions. He has a sand castle to build, a vast amount of sand to light up, and a teammate to keep alive. He ignores the way exhaustion tugs at him, because, well, when you’re really stubborn about keeping your eyes open, who needs sleep when there’s something to be done?

So, what if that’s part of what keeps him awake much longer than a mortal should be awake for? What if it’s not only the drive to complete tasks, getting way too wrapped up in the progress of it, but also the fear of letting his guard down? What if he barely feels the way his body begs him to sleep, all until he’s standing still, but he continues to fight against it anyway?

And then, (here’s the fun part for the Desert Duo enjoyers,) what if it’s Scar who breaks that? Scar of all people, Grian’s new ally and the man he accidentally killed? What if it’s Scar who helps a very sleep deprived Grian to finally let go of his voluntary restlessness, and close his eyes? He has a silver tongue, after all, and in their castle amongst the dunes, maybe it’s one of the few times Grian gives in. One of the first times he lets himself be more vulnerable around Scar, and one of the first times he smiles, warmth in his chest.

All is to say: what if it’s Scar who starts to make Grian feel safe enough to sleep, and starts to make him feel human again?

[theusernameiwantisntavailable]

So I have officially finished watching the first episode of tdp and I am once again asking Netflix to stop releasing seasons that are like 3 episodes long

[brittlebutch]

officially 10K into this fic and having a realization about where I'm at on characterization so far, so i'm wondering:

[sysig]

Lost my mind thinking about the Vyer Estate (Patreon)

[genderfluid-druid]

“what happened to him?” “he read a book so bad he returned it to the library a third of the way through, but now his brain won’t stop chewing on the potential it had 😔”

[hummingbird-games]

nooooooooo I'm not working on my break whaaaa

not the updated HSD 2 demo being almost as long as the entirety of Crushed!?

[irregularbillcipher]

watched the musical demon show (don't wanna name it so this post isn't in the tags) at the behest of an IRL friend and i can already tell this is going to be a piece of media where i absolutely cannot stop thinking about it, not because i really love the show as-is, but because it has so many individual components i really like and find incredibly fun or compelling, and i'm so frustrated that it doesn't come together for me

i think the main thing i can say about it as a show, setting aside some of the insensitive choices that were made that i really don't feel qualified to tackle or talk about, is that the entire thing sort of gives off this vibe of someone really excited to show you every single oc they made in high school and college and i very genuinely mean that in both the best and worst ways possible

there are some good hooks for season two though so i will absolutely give them that