#theta writes

[smol-dragon]

Frank loved you.

In his own weird way, the man was head over heels, enraptured by you and everything you did without ever realizing it. It wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it! You had just managed to catch his attention, was he really to blame for the escalation of his feelings each trial with you brought? How every taunt had begun to become more flirtatious, how your chases felt more playful than threatening. He knew that you knew too, why else would you stop after you threw a pallet down over his head to blow kisses at him? Why else would you waste time you could've been running just to laugh in his face?

You had to be doing this intentionally, making the man's heart ache in ways it hasn't since before the Fog. You were trying to throw him off of his game, surely! You had to have been, why else would you tease him so relentlessly?

At first he had tried to reason that you did this with everyone, that the other members of the Legion would reassure him that this was just your usual behavior, but he was surprised to learn you weren't. You treated everyone else like a regular killer, you didn't even spare them a second glance. He didn't know whether this fact pissed him off or made him happy to know what the both of you had was special.

He wasn't sure what to make of it, wasn't sure if it was just something you would do until you got bored, but he decided he'd play along for as long as you did. He'd never speak upon whatever weird arrangement between the two of you, fearing for its end otherwise, but he would allow you luxuries no one else saw.

If he cornered you, he wouldn't kill you like a lamb thrown to the wolves. He wouldn't brutalize you or make you suffer as you died; hell, he'd even give you the hatch sometimes if you seemed too down in the dumps. He would caress you and hold you close to him, breath you in and cling to you like a lifeline he never knew he needed. You saw Frank for the person he once was, a man barely holding himself together and trying to deal with the fucked up cards he was dealt. A man that craved familiarity, a man that wanted to be loved.

Even if he never took his mask off around you, he did everything he could to make you feel special. Even if it was simple acts within trials, he'd do them- when it was just the two of you, of course.

He would never say those three special words, but you knew. You knew that he loved you, in his own weird way, in a way that only a killer could. Never enough to stop the cycle, but always enough to make sure it was painless. You were both condemned, the least he could do was make the cycle of hell a little more enjoyable; however brief that was.

[jen-with-a-pen]

⊹-୨୧-⊹𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⊹-୨୧-⊹

⊹–SUMMARY–⊹ Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

⊹–PAIRINGS–⊹ Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!F!Reader

⊹–WARNINGS–⊹ more to be added as series progresses frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear The warnings listed here are not exhaustive but generally encapsulate the series as a whole and do not represent every single chapter. Please be mindful and read the chapter warnings!

Read this fic on AO3!

The Richards College Playlist

Steve's Playlist

any art featured in the series title header and story-specific dividers was found on pinterest and is used in good faith. all credit goes to the original artists, as i could not find accurate credit for any. collage done by me

Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!

ALL TIED UP: STEVE'S WEEK

–⊹– One: Saturday, currently.

–⊹– Two: Last Monday.

–⊹– Three: Last Tuesday.

–⊹– Four: Last Wednesday.

–⊹– Five: Last Thursday.

–⊹– Six: Saturday, still.

–⊹– Seven: Last Friday.

–⊹– Eight: Saturday, again.

–⊹– Nine: Saturday, again.

[taralen]

Wowee, five days late, but here is my April Fool's Day picture! What's the joke here? Well, that's the joke! There isn't one at all except for one foolish woman's endeavors.

This is a drawing of my Addison lady, Thetalan (aka Theta), loosely based on the Fool Card of a tarot deck.

During the 1990s, Theta was a naive White Addison lady who fell deeply in love with Spamton G. Spamton, the BIG SHOT himself! Years before he burst into stardom, the two had a chance encounter in 1993 when Spamton was still building his wealth. While Theta was working at a sports arena on her first day, Spamton approached her stand to buy beer for him and his friend. However, he noticed her lack of training and, as a small gesture of kindness, showed her how to properly pour a beer from the tap before handing her a generous $20 tip. This encounter embedded into her very SOUL; Theta never forgot him, and her adoration for him grew into unconditional love in the years that followed.

Like the fabled sun in their world without one, she gazed upon his visage in awe and often said, "Someday, I want to be just like him and shine brightly above the city lights!"

Despite her best efforts, he rose higher and higher while she remained nothing more than a regular Addison. However, this did not stop her from believing that someday they would surely talk again!

Thoughts of love swirled in her mind, inspiring her to write him many poems, but she never had the courage to mail them. Then, one day in 1997, Spamton announced the opening of a dedicated PO box to send him fan letters with the possibility of reading his favorite ones on TV. This was her chance to finally get him to acknowledge her love for all to witness!

She rushed to her desk and poured all her devotion onto the paper, confessing every thought and feeling she had since their initial encounter. With a heart-shaped seal, she sent the love letter off, praying that he would find hers, remember that small moment they shared, and let all of CYBER WORLD and the neighboring Dark Worlds know how much he meant to her.

Every episode of the SPAMTON LOVE NETWORK sent her heart pounding. Surely there would come the day he'd find hers in all those piles of fan letters? She never gave up hope and believed he would read hers one day!

However, by 1998, Spamton's sales and net worth declined. The SPAMTON LOVE NETWORK was canceled in 1999 when a mysterious health condition robbed him from going on stage again. Crestfallen, Theta sobbed, knowing she'd never hear her "prince" announce her words of love. She prayed from the core of her SOUL, hoping he read her letter despite everything and kept it close to his heart.

[do-minuzz]

I wonder if there's any long angsty academy fics with thoschei-centred? like the whole thing from their first meet to the final fight between them so after you read it all you just get a deep depressed feeling like a void was placed inside of you because you just know what happend to them after all of these academy years????? slowburn friends to lovers to enemies with some silly adventures and then /snaps fingers/ it's angst and depression

please im begging slap me with some links of this

cause you know what happens to a fanfiction writer when they can't find the thing they want to read.

oh shit i might actually write it.

[leonardalphachurch]

@redvsbluesecretsanta present for @thetality !

sorry that she is late chronic fatigue has been absolutely kicking my ass please give love to @donut-entendre who without his help i would not have been able to finish this 🙏

thetality asked for something with theta and/or caboose so i decided to go with modern au fluffy bonding stuff. bc the world needs more theta caboose friendship

(also available to read on ao3)

***

Waffles Time

Theta wakes up at 3am scared and alone. Caboose takes it upon himself to make them feel a little less alone.

This can only mean one thing: it’s waffles time.

Blink. Blink blink.

Theta rubbed the sleep out of their eyes.

Wait.

Theta rubbed the sleep out of their eyes?

Oh.

Their mind was quiet, but for a buzzing of anxiety and stress. No one else was there. No welcoming. No arguing.

They looked around. The time on their watch read 2:35. AM. A message popped up. An unknown number.

They looked around. Their phone lay on the floor across the room. Even from their place on the bed, Theta could see the screen had been shattered. A dent in the wall above it.

Oh.

Theta took off their watch.

It wasn't long before footsteps lingered in the hall, pausing in front of their door.

"Church?"

Oh no.

Theta didn’t want to talk to Alpha’s friends. They didn’t want to have to answer questions and be looked at and judged and—

“Um. Please go away please.”

“Yeeeaaah... No… Are you okay? Did you also have a nightmare? Because…"

Theta fumbled for the lamp, flicking it on and wincing at the sudden brightness. Their things were a little bit everywhere.

“... but I get those all the time. Sometimes my dad dies again and-"

Boxers. Why did Alpha have to sleep in just a night shirt and boxers? The leg of a pair of sweatpants poked out of a pile on the bed. They quickly pulled it on.

“... I always hate the marshmallow dreams because Tucker always eats them all and there isn't any left… Hey, you're really quiet today!”

Oh, right. Alpha wasn’t very nice to his friends, was he.

“No I’m very normal!” Theta shouted at the door, “um. Fff.. fuck, you.” They winced at their own words.

The doorknob clicked horribly as the man pushed in.

Theta ducked under the covers. “Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry.”

“Oh, you don't have to be sorry for locking the door! It was already broken - which wasn't anyone's fault - Did you forget again? I can remind you any time."

That… wasn’t why they were apologizing. But for some reason, it did help ease Theta’s worries. They peeked out from under the covers.

Towering over the bed was Caboose, complete with messy bedhead and big warm pajamas. He looked down at Theta with a large, sleepy grin. When Theta just kept staring back, his expression got contemplative.

Should… should they say something?

But there was no need, as Caboose seemed to suddenly realize something. “Oooohh.... You're the little one!”

“Um….” Theta considered lying, but they would never make a convincing Alpha. “Maybe…”

“Hello little Church!” Caboose launched himself onto the bed, bouncing a little as he landed.

Theta jumped backwards, “Um! H-hi…”

“You don’t have to run away, Little Church, we’re not playing hide and seek.”

“My name is Theta…”

“Okay. You don’t have to run away, Theta, we’re not playing hide and seek.”

“I, I know.” Theta tried to relax. Caboose wasn’t a threat. This they knew. Memories of Alpha’s friends were fuzzy and incomplete, but the emotions bled through. And the emotion Theta felt the most when looking at Caboose was an overwhelming sense of trust.

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t loud, though.

“Can you, um, sorry, um,” Theta tried to communicate their desires without words. Caboose just stared at them, waiting for the words to come. “I… need a shirt.”

It wasn’t what they’d meant to say, but it worked. Theta really wasn’t comfortable with any amount of awareness of the whole “having a body” thing, and wearing just a nightshirt didn’t help with that.

“Oh, yeah I can help with that!”

In one swift motion, too quick for Theta to protest, Caboose had removed his sweater and stuffed it over Theta’s head.

Church’s body wasn’t small by any objective measures, but compared to Caboose…

As Theta pushed their hands through the sleeves, far too large for them to even reach the ends, they felt absolutely tiny.

It was nice.

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome!”

Caboose looked incredibly pleased with himself, sitting there now in just his own undershirt. Theta wondered if he was cold. Maybe they should give the sweater back. Alpha had a lot of shirts, they could wear any one of those.

As they started the offer, Caboose interjected, “Are you hungry?”

Theta paused. Were they hungry? Interpreting the body’s signals wasn’t always easy. Maybe that buzzing of anxiety was actually a buzzing of hunger. Only then did they notice the half eaten bag of chips on the bedside table. Was whoever last fronted recently snacking?

“I think I’m hungry, yeah.”

“Good! Let’s get Church to make us waffles.”

“Um.” Theta didn’t know what to say to that. They thought all of Alpha’s friends knew how it worked by now. This was the fear. The questions. The judgement. They didn’t know how to be someone else. “I don’t know. Um. Sorry I don’t think. Sorry I don’t. Sorry.”

Caboose stared at them as they nervously stammered out apologies. Finally, something seemed to click.

“Oh! Hm. I guess that doesn’t work. Hmmmmmmmm. Well… We can make it ourselves!”

“Oh… I don’t know how to make waffles…”

“I do! Let’s go!” Caboose announced as he leaped out of bed, racing out of the room.

“W-wait!” Theta scrambled to follow him. They really didn’t want to get out of bed, but they didn’t really want to be alone, either. Nervous to cross the threshold, they hesitated at the door frame.

“Um,” they called to Caboose, peeking slightly out of the door to see where he went, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to cook by ourselves!”

"Yes, it is an awesome idea!" Caboose declared, hanging from the doorway to catch his momentum. "We’ve got blueberries and strawberries and whipped cream and chocolate chips..."

He ducked into the room, his voice fading off, “And goldfish and cheese and mashed potatoes and blueberries and…”

Theta balked as he disappeared. “I wasn’t worried about the toppings…”

They definitely weren’t allowed to cook something at 2:30am… right? They tried to listen to their head, again. To call out to anyone there. Nothing. They wanted Delta, or Epsilon, or even Gamma. Someone in charge. Someone who could take care of things. Someone who could take care of them.

They thought back to the shattered phone on the floor. The message from the unknown number. Why had they fronted? Alone? The buzz of anxiety grew louder. Maybe they should go get their watch. They didn’t know who was texting them, but it clearly wasn’t good. Maybe it would be so not good it could trigger someone else out. Maybe they wouldn’t have to be alone—

“Here!”

Theta jumped at Caboose’s return. They’d been so caught up in their own thoughts they didn’t hear him approach. They blinked as they tried to reground themself, taking in the sight of the large man before them.

Caboose had grabbed a shirt identical to the one he was just wearing, that Theta was now wearing, and he was holding a…

Oh my gosh.

In Caboose’s outstretched hands was a large, LARGE bear plushie. Its huge, round belly was almost the size of Theta’s entire torso. But it’s head, oh man, it’s head was tiny. Barely the size of their fist. It’s arms and legs were stuffed at its sides, the proportions all out of whack. It’s fur looked like the softest thing Theta had ever felt.

It was incredible.

“Wow…”

“And gummy bears!” Caboose wiggled the bear at Theta, its limbs so filled with stuffing they barely flopped around.

“What?”

“We can put gummy bears on the waffles.”

“Oh…” Theta looked at the oversized bear. “Um, then what about?” They gestured at it.

“Oh!” Caboose looked down at the stuffed animal in his hands, almost looking surprised Theta had brought it up, as if he had forgotten it was there. “This is Big Fuck.”

“B- oh.” Maybe Theta would just call it Big.

“I thought he could be your friend. But not your best friend, since we are already best friends."

Theta took the bear— took Big— from Caboose.

“Okay. He doesn’t have to be my best friend, you can keep him."

Caboose tilted his head like a puppy.

"I was talking about you, silly."

“… I’m your best friend?”

"Yes, see, because Church is my best friend, you get part ownership because you are like a little him. And that's how stocks work!"

Theta clutched Big tight to their chest. They didn’t think that was how stocks worked, or how friendship worked but…

“Thank you.”

It was nice to have a friend.

“Yeah! And best friends make each other waffles. Let’s go!”

***

“Are you sure this is all okay to put in waffles?”

“Yes, definitely.”

Theta was sitting on the kitchen table, Big clutched in their lap. Their head peeked out over his, looking at the display Caboose had laid out in front of them. Plates and boxes and bags of junk food, candy, chocolate, frozen fruit, sauces. Leftovers. Theta didn’t think a lot of these things would be yummy. Or could even be cooked.

“Yeah, I’m basically an expert in waffles,” Caboose said, shaking the bottle of Bisquick furiously. You have to do it as fast as possible, he’d said earlier, right before shaking the loose cap off and splattering batter all over the kitchen. Tucker will clean that up later.

Theta plopped another marshmallow into their mouth. Their sticky hands had already left some mats in Big’s fur, but someone would probably clean that up later, too. Probably.

Now, though, they were just having a fun time hanging with their friend.

“Mmm. Okay. I trust you.”

“Good! Watch.” Theta watched as Caboose poured the batter onto the waffle iron. It glooped out, overfilling the squares.

“Cool. Now what?”

Caboose gestured towards the display. “Now you put stuff in it!”

Ooooh yes. This was what Theta was looking forward to. They delicately placed Big onto a chair before going, what some might call, absolutely feral. Some logical part of them said that grabbing handfuls of every sweet that adorned the table and throwing it onto the uneven batter probably wouldn’t end up with a good waffle, but they ignored that part. After all, they were Theta, not Delta.

“Okay! Done.”

Caboose appraised their mountain of sugar-y goodness with serious consideration. Theta grabbed Big again, suddenly nervous about their creation. Caboose narrowed his eyes. Theta held their breath.

“This…………. is a good waffle.” He slammed the iron shut with what was probably way too much force. Even still, Theta beamed.

It didn’t take long until the smell of burnt caramel started wafting from the machine.

“Is that okay…?”

Caboose nodded sagely. “That’s how you know it is going to be good.” In a swift motion, he extricated the waffle from its burning home, planting it squarely on the table.

Theta didn’t think it was supposed to look like that. There was burnt chocolate and bubbling gummies and melted hard candies and uncooked batter. It didn’t get to look ugly for long, though, as Caboose helpfully started pouring on syrup and chocolate and whipped cream.

Theta hadn’t seen this much sugar in their whole life.

“Bone app to eat!” Caboose pushed the waffle in front of Theta.

They grabbed it with both hands (ow. still a little hot.) and took a bite.

Oh….

It wasn’t what most would call “good.” The flavors clashed in ways Theta didn’t have the words to describe, but which Sigma might’ve called “offensive” or “an affront to nature.” But still. It was interesting, and it was sweet, and they were having a lot of fun trying not to spill sugar all over Big’s tummy, so maybe Caboose was onto something.

Caboose looked pleased with Theta’s reaction. They could only guess their expression was some mixture of disgust and intrigue, but they kept eating it, so maybe that’s what Caboose was going for.

Caboose started on his own creation.

Or maybe, Theta thought as they watched him work, “creation” was a generous word for it. Maybe Sigma would call this one “monstrosity.”

Caboose systematically grabbed every single topping they’d laid out on the table. He seemed to consider all of his options with great importance, putting some straight onto the iron, some into the bottle, yet others on the side, presumably to be added later. Once he was happy with his choices, he took the bottle again (being very careful, Theta noted, to make sure the cap was on fully this time) and shook with an incredible vigor. The items on the pan continued to sizzle. He emptied the bottle’s contents into the iron, squeezing to get it out as quickly as possible. Goop dripped over the sides. The ingredients that had been saved for later had now found their later, triumphantly thrown onto the pile.

It was way too tall to be closed, Theta thought.

Well, apparently, they thought wrong.

With somehow even more force than he’d used for Theta’s, Caboose acted like a hydraulic press, crushing the lid into its bottom. And, much like the greatest hydraulic press videos, mess squeezed out the sides in a spectacular fashion.

Theta chewed idly while the scene played out before them.

Caboose gave a thumbs up, his other hand still holding the iron down as it continued to cook.

If before it smelt like burnt caramel, this was just burn. Theta crinkled their nose.

And nearly jumped out of their skin when the fire alarm went off.

Caboose looked at it, both annoyed and quizzical. “I thought I took the life out of you.” He reached up, easily able to pull the alarm off the ceiling, and dumped the batteries out.

He turned back to Theta, “That is how you know it will be really good!”

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Theta jumped again, clutching Big even tighter to their chest.

There, standing in the hallway, was Tucker, wearing nothing but a nightcap and a blanket.

Well, maybe there was more to describe there, but Theta wouldn’t know, as their eyes were suddenly covered by Caboose’s large hands.

“Tucker! Put some clothes on! There is children here!”

“What??? What are you talking ab— Dude, get the fucking—!”

Theta heard a scuffle. They tried to pry Caboose’s hands away from their eyes, but the man was too strong.

“Hey! Don’t touch my waffle!”

“You’re gonna burn the fucking apartment down!”

“I am not! I know how to contain a fire, Tucker. Excuse me,” Caboose removed his hand from Theta’s eyes and turned to them, “Hold this please.” He grabbed Theta’s hand and put it over their own eyes.

Theta stayed like that for a moment. Then they remembered that they could remove their hand themself, and felt a little silly.

The waffle iron was now unplugged and slightly smoking. An annoyed looking Tucker waved the cord at an equally annoyed looking Caboose.

“You are ruining waffles time.”

“Yeah, like a fire wouldn’t?” Tucker rolled his eyes, then turned towards Theta. “And what the fuck are you even doing?”

Theta’s blood turned to ice.

“I-”

“Do not yell at Theta.”

Caboose was a very large man. It was easy to forget, with his genial demeanor, just how much bigger he was than everyone else. How much stronger he was than everyone else. As Tucker’s eyes widened and he took a step back, staring at Caboose’s uncharacteristically stoic expression, he was certainly remembering.

It was a little nice to have the strong person be the one protecting Theta.

A wave of confusion washed over Tucker’s face as he registered what Caboose had said. “Theta…?” He looked over at them, in Caboose’s oversized pajama shirt, still clutching Big like it was a lifeline, still looking absolutely terrified. And confusion was replaced by realization.

“Oh, shit— uh, shoot, uh— fuck—” Tucker looked down at his blanket, the only thing covering his body, now even looser than it was earlier. He pulled it tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” He whispered at Caboose.

“I said to put on pants.”

“That’s not— look, just,” Tucker sighed, then looked towards Theta, “Don’t eat that, okay?” He pointed at their waffle.

“But we’re hungry!” Caboose protested.

Tucker groaned. “I, will make you guys…” Tucker looked at the waffle iron. A bit of batter filled with leftover chicken and gummy worm slopped onto the counter. It continued to smoke. “Pancakes. Just, go into the living room and let me get dressed.”

“Okay!” Caboose happily bounded away, as if this was his desired outcome all along.

Theta looked down, sheepish. “Sorry…”

Tucker sighed, “It’s fine. This is nowhere near the worst it’s gotten.”

Theta looked up at the batter on the ceiling. Tucker followed their gaze.

He laughed. “Yeah, still not the worst.”

“Okay…” Theta got up from the counter, trying to make themself as small as possible.

“Hey.”

They froze. They looked at Tucker, bracing themself for scolding, yelling, reminders of how terrible they were for letting something like this happen.

But when Tucker spoke, it was soft.

“Next time, just wake me up, okay?” He looked exasperated, but, somehow, Theta could tell he was being genuine.

They nodded.

“Okay.”

Tucker smiled, and went to get dressed, and Theta went to go meet Caboose in the living room.

He was already sitting on the couch, flipping through some list of shows.

“Do you wanna watch something?”

“Um, whatever you want.” Theta plopped down on the couch.

“Okay! I will watch… Pokémon.”

“You like Pokémon?”

“Oh, yeah, sometimes me and Church watch it when Tucker isn’t home.”

“Oh… I didn’t know Alpha still liked Pokémon.”

“Yeah… I don’t know who Alpha is but… Pokémon is good.”

“Um, yeah, it’s my favorite.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“Are you… gonna put on the show?”

“Okay!” Caboose clicked the remote, opening to some random episode in the Gen V seasons. Theta didn’t know the episode, but they could tell because of the art style.

“All right,” Tucker called from the kitchen, “you guys are getting chocolate chip pancakes and that’s it.”

“BUT TUCKER!” Caboose immediately jumped up in his seat. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT! IT’S WAFFLES TIME!”

“You almost burned the house down! I’m not hearing it!”

Caboose bounded over the back of the couch to go yell at Tucker in the kitchen. Leaving Theta alone on the sofa.

Alone.

Theta was alone. They didn’t hear anyone in their mind. Their thoughts drifted back to the cracked phone, the unread message. What had caused them to be here alone in the first place.

But, as they turned around to look back at their friends, arguing over blueberries, as they clung to the largest teddy bear they’d ever seen, supremely sticky with sugar and syrup, as Pokémon blared in the background, a connection to their host they didn’t know they had…

Maybe they weren’t all that alone, after all.

[sososcareds]

you are cold, and i am sick.

blood is warm, you know. my burst fuel pipes spill it around you, my mechanical guts splayed over your dress, my shattered wings reflecting light like a stained glass window onto your unbroken camera lense.

like something starved, the heat of my demise leaks into your temperature sensors, my death fueling your life, your own fuel lines thrumming like a heartbeat where your metal chassis is at its thinnest.

a poetic, desperate, thrashing final stand. but a being built to protect could never stand against something built to destroy. each millimetre of hydraulic movement, programmed thought, all full of an unmatched hunger. unbested and unchallenged.

there is only so long something fueled by destruction can last. there is only so long it can hold itself together.

you are unbothered by this. it is as if you were waiting for the moment in which my body would cease to function. fiddling with the frayed and split wires at my creaking joints.

there is nothing after for the mechanical. we both know this. you choke up my warmth, relish the moment, watch me stutter out, and say your final goodbye.

and then you stand and walk away. no reason to stay with a broken pile of metal and wires and congealed blood.

fuel for the next scraphead to come by. fuel for the next load of laundry that will inevitably fail to rinse the rust brown stains from your impromptu funeral attire. fuel for nothing and no one.

the sun does not care if i am gone. i will stay warm until the night chill takes me away. and you will stay warm until there is nothing left of me.

i suppose, this is my end.

[canisonicscrewyou]

Hey y’all want some D-D-Doctor Who Playlists

because GOD I have a lot of them. and I’m not gonna lie they’re MOSTLY thoschei. some are better than others. featuring a fair amount of The Mountain Goats, AJJ, My Chemical Romance, Mitski, Sidney Gish, Hozier, Talking Heads, folk punk, emo,, and literally so much more songs. so many song. different flavors. yum yum eat up (is unreasonably pleased with all of these)

[mslanna]

Fühl dich frei mein Prompt für AO3 zu übersetzen, aber ich kann auf Deutsch besser beschreiben was ich meine ☺️

Wie wäre es wenn zur Abwechslung Mal Tav mit einem "mine" Raphael dazu bringt "yours" zu sagen? ( Can be explicit, doesn't have to tho )

Ich liebe deine Stories und freue mich immer wenn's was neues gibt :)

Thank you for this lovely prompt. 🥰

they/them tav without body configuration hurt/comfort tw: blood, injuries read it on AO3

To Claim What is Mine

Conquering the hells was hard work. Tav smashed in another devil head, swinging their maul in a wide arc to keep their surroundings clear. They got used to the incessant flood of burning blood and gore covering their armour and face. All in all, it was worth it.

Each battle fought was a battle won. And injuries – well-earned and badges of honour – as painful as they were, were easily treated in the House of Hope. The healing pool was a second home at home to Tav. The warm waters embraced them regularly.

Those moments of quiet and healing were not always spent alone. Fighting at their side, Raphael garnered his own share of injuries. Tav tended to them with reverent hands in the field and Raphael called on that gentle touch in his home. A mutual comfort not acknowledged in speech.

Another devil shattered on Tav's weapon. The spikes on the Maul ripped through its armour, spreading guts and bone around the mortal. An arrow grazed Tav's shoulder as they turned to crash the maul into the body of an imp trying to break into their circle. They winced but smashed the imp into pulp anyway.

At their side Raphael kept his own, scorching enemies and earth alike. The smell of burning flesh and ash hung heavy in the air. A trickle of blood ran down his temple and Tav suppressed the instinct to staunch the flow and tend to the wound. Any excuse to get their hands onto their devil was a good one.

Between the fighting and healing, Tav studied infernal medicine and physiology. Small things that helped as they inched closer to the cambion, working knots and kinks out of his back and shoulders. After a first tensing, Raphael relaxed into their touch. One more perk in the House of Hope.

Another arrow bounced off the protection spell covering Raphael's wings as they stretched out around Tav. They slammed an imp out of the air that aimed for the head of their cambion. A thick spray of blood erupted from the falling body and covered everything around. They stayed back-to-back for a moment, assessing the fight while they picked off more enemies.

It didn't look good. The two of them were outnumbered and though the supply of imps was running out, the other side still had over a dozen of devils coming at them. Two of them against a dozen were usually good odds. Tav loved letting go and just smashing through enemy ranks, fired by Raphael's approval and the promise of shared downtime.

But they were tired already. The enemy kept pushing them back against a sheer cliff that rose like a razor-studded wall behind them. Following their gaze, Raphael threw a devil against the wall. It's body exploded on the sharp protrusions jutting out like crooked teeth. In the drizzle of blood, Tav spotted their reprieve.

A turn of the head was enough to let Raphael know of their plan. Together they moved backwards and right towards a narrow crack in the rock. When they reached it, Raphael used his wings to shield them both while Tav worked. They changed into gaseous form and slipped through the crack. Moments later a tendril returned and Raphael followed.

As soon as the cambion was through the crack, a wall of stone rose behind him. Tav took a deep breath and looked him over. The devil was in a sorry state. With time to take the damage in, Tav counted now fewer than five arrow shafts sticking from joints in his armour. Blood ran down his face and some of it was his. The protective spell over his wings flickered. It wouldn't hold out much longer.

Protected from the enemy for now, Tav looked around. The cave was a dead end and not very big. They pulled Raphael behind the gentle bend though the dent wasn't large enough to fully hide his cambion body.

Tav pressed healing charges into their own flesh, mending broken muscle and ripped skin. It helped, the armour was easier to carry, and a spring returned to their step despite the heavy maul in their hands.

They pushed an armoured shoulder under Raphael and dragged him deeper into the darkness. He winced at every little jolt, a worrisome development. When they reached the end of the cave, Raphael slipped to the ground, a low groan escaping his lips. Tav concentrated on his body through the armour for a moment and found a ruin held together by metal and willpower.

They rifled through their remaining scrolls. There was little that would help their cambion. Tav put aside a scroll of higher invisibility. The potions looked even worse. No bottled healing was left. The remaining charge would help get them back up to speed, but it would not heal Raphael enough to fight. Various poisons and elixirs tumbled over each other. At the very bottom was one potion of angelic reprieve.

Tav shot a glance at Raphael. Their cambion lay with his eyes closed and laboured breath rattled through his lungs. The spell on his wings petered out and left the appendages horribly vulnerable. Also, Tav had to note, they already were pierced close to the tips in a few places. They put a hand against his face and called for him softly.

Black-hole eyes cracked open and took a long time to focus on their face. Raphael's hand rose slowly. When it wavered, Tav caught it and placed it against their cheek. The warm skin was damp with sweat and blood. They did their best not to add tears to the mix. He did not know how their unspoken bond pierced them with pain ever so often.

Raphael's wings fluttered attempting another shared comfort. But he was too weak to raise them and soon they drooped back to the ground. He was not in any shape to fight. Tav wondered how he held out so long. The fire in his eyes answered clearly.

Fire that burned brighter whenever Tav was near. Pointed claws that moved gently over their skin. Tav remembered their sharp inhale the first time Raphael laid hands on them vividly. Often. A perfect moment. The warmth of the House of Hope engulfed them, the warm waters of the healing pool lapping at their skin.

And their head, bravely, recklessly, leaning against Raphael's shoulder. Tav had closed their eyes and awaited doom. But instead, down came the claws. Softly and ever so carefully they cupped Tav's shoulder. As they sighed into the infernal skin, the wing closed in as well, sheltering them from the world.

Infernal wings were an excellent shied even for nightmares. And Tav well-rested was unstoppable. It made only sense they sleep well. And if sometimes they got buried under the full weight of their cambion, that was only to be expected. They woke with breath and limbs tangled, more refreshed than such contortions should serve.

Tav pressed a kiss into the bloody hand before putting it down on Raphael's chest. Soon their spell would wane and the crack to the outside world open again. But it was only a dozen devils give or take. They looked down at their cambion. Worth it. Worth every moment. Worth words.

"Mine?" Tav asked holding the cambion's gaze.

Raphael attempted a smile that fell as horribly short as his hand reaching for their face. "Yours," he breathed.

Tav smiled and bent down to press a soft kiss over his broken lips before feeding him the potion of angelic reprieve. The scroll of greater invisibility would hide Raphael well enough for now. Then they rose and hefted their maul. A tight grin split their face. The devils outside were dead men walking, they just didn't know it yet.

[byooregard]

THETA BAKES A CAKE - KOSCHEI MAKES A MULTIDIMENSIONAL SPREADSHEET - FLOUR IS STOLEN - TELEPATHIC FIELDS ARE BOTCHED - AN ASSIGNMENT IS FAILED

[strange-birdy-me]

Inspired by Second Draft by @veraynes-blog. The Fourteenth Doctor returns to (save) the Simm Master. And trying to fix his past mistakes.

[smol-dragon]

Frank's affections would probably be really weird but thoughtful.

Like stealing a magazine you were looking at for a while (but said you couldn't get for some reason or another).

Your favorite snacks and drinks always being conveniently at the abandoned resort him and the others hang out at (you complained about the drinks being warm, only for Frank to shove them in the snow outside. "They'll be cold in 5 minutes")

People who've hurt you suddenly being less inclined to bother you due to some of his "gentle" persuasion skills.

Frank actively denying any affections you give him while the two of you are in the public eye. When it's just the two of you though? He acts reluctant but allows the more mundane things.

Your the first person he checks on when anything within the group goes awry. He knows you can hold your own, that you're just as cunning and capable as the other members, but he can't help but make sure.

He's the one that calls your landline like clockwork every night just to hear your voice, but he'll never tell you that.

He makes you a part of his life and savors every second with you, even if he's a hard-ass while doing it.

[raviollies]

just a small compliment, but i love your art. saw your character inspiration posts lately and i love lorelai and theta's eyes are gorgeous! have a good day!

THANK YOU!! Eyes are one of my favourite things to draw & I love coming up with little headcanons and lore tidbits to match so I am going to use this opportunity

Lorelai is a Vampire, duh, but I usually draw all vampires with slit pupils no matter what they look like in canon because I love the idea of vampires having biological changes to reflect their physical transformation.

Since Vampires usually rest during the day, I typify them as nocturnal rather than diurnal. Typically nocturnal predators have vertical slit shaped pupils to allow better sight in darkness.

Now Fae are a bit different, I decided to go fully fantastical in that regard to highlight their otherness as well as provide that hypnotic pop of colour.

Fae come in many shades and variations, there really isn't a one size fits all for them (Different colour variations, different sclera colour, different pupil shapes), but what remains a constant is the wide kaleidoscope of colours that moves. The best way I can describe it is akin to a lava lamp. The colours shift and move, ebb and flow, they almost feel alive independent of the owner. Their eyes are HYPNOTIZING, and surreal, not abiding by any biological law, just like Fae's very existance.

[taralen]

"You do what I ask of you. Addisons don't ask questions; they merely do. Now do what you're told and get in that swimsuit. We're crunching time and need this photo shoot done by tomorrow. Hop to it!"

Several weeks ago, I dreamed about wearing a really uncomfortable green swimsuit and was forced to have photos taken of me in it. I thought the idea was so specific and strange that I had to include it in one of my stories. Well, I decided Theta gets to suffer!

This plays into some further lore-building I've been cooking that focuses on one of the antagonists, Nagela, and her complicated relationships with Spamton and Theta during the 1990s. I also decided to give him a new suit for fun. Who said he has to wear the same red suit all the time anyway?!

[[NOTE: This is a continuation of something I am working on for my AU, LoveLetter. Click on Nagela's name in the previous section to take you there. Everything is still WIP!]]

During a follow-up meeting, Nagela spoke to Spamton privately concerning his unusual nervous behavior at the fashion show. He insisted that he was merely on edge from the "excitement of it all" since it was the first fashion show he had ever attended. She subtly pressed him for why he looked at that girl the way he did when they passed by her. Spamton maintained his previous statement of "never meeting her before."

Nagela still had her suspicions. She didn't want to entertain the idea that Spamton would ever be interested in any woman besides herself, so she devised a plan to catch him off-guard. Several photo shoots were already scheduled for the sponsored clothing lines she was expanding the collection on, and this gave her the perfect opportunity to test him.

In every previous photo review, Spamton never showed any interest in the models, no matter how alluring or sensual. His face remained professional, impartial, and disinterested in the Addisons wearing the clothes he would choose to sponsor. If he liked one, he'd "poach" the design from her and have it labeled under G. SHARP, his own clothing brand.

Nagela chose Theta to wear one of the most revealing swimsuits of the DEEP BLUE swimsuit line, catered to an adult demographic with erotic tastes. She pitched the line to Spamton before, and though he was somewhat intrigued, he had not made any final decisions to sponsor it.

Theta was a modest woman. Though she was beautiful, as most Addison women are, she was not quite beautiful enough for most modeling gigs due to her short stature and the unusual "dead pixels" that made her face "defective." At first, her heart raced at the idea of modeling for the luxurious NAGELA SAX company and its namesake proprietor, but once Nagela revealed what she wanted her to wear, a wave of discomfort and fear consumed her.

"Surely, there is someone better for this one?" Theta uttered as she held it before her.

Nagela loomed over, finger jabbing into her chest. "You do what I ask of you. Addisons don't ask questions; they merely do. Now do what you're told and get in that swimsuit. We're crunching time and need this photo shoot done by tomorrow. Hop to it!"

Holding back tears, she retreated to the dressing room. The bathing suit revealed too much, and the fabric pulled in all the wrong places. Still, she went out as she was told and took part in the provocative photoshoot, having to constantly be reminded to smile and "look natural."

With all the necessary shots taken, Nagela told her, "Great. Hopefully, these will get him to sponsor DEEP BLUE." Theta didn't need to know the name to understand exactly who she was referring to.

Once she made it to the safety of her apartment, she stepped into the shower, turned the water up as hot as he could handle, and scrubbed herself with a loofa until her skin reddened from friction and heat. Her mind wandered as she stared at the streams of water trailing down her expressionless face, circling down the drain. She had wanted his eyes on her, but she never expected it to be like this! Complex emotions swirled within her, filling her with a sense of uncertainty and dread piled upon a small speck of something deeper... Warmer.

[[DURING THE NEXT MEETING WITH SPAMTON]]

Nagela mixed her photos in with the others for Spamton to see. She wanted to test his reaction. If the girl meant nothing to him, he would surely react the same way he did with the other models.

But he didn't.

Spamton's eyes widened, and the cigarette slacked in his mouth. The tips of his fingers twitched ever so slightly, causing the paper to tremble. The faint hint of pink colored his white face.

That was not the reaction Nagela wanted to see.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Huh?" He laughed nervously. "Nothing's wrong!" "I know you, and something is definitely wrong." She smirked and smoked her cigarette, seemingly cool and composed as ever, but a burning jealousy festered inside her. "I wasn't expecting to see such a..." He waved his hand in a circular motion. "Provocative swimsuit?" He snapped his fingers. "That's it! Right, well, I wasn't expecting to see it mixed in with the rest of these. I'm admittedly taken off-guard." "I slipped it in as a surprise, just to see your reaction. It's part of the DEEP BLUE line you showed interest in. Does this help sway your decision?" She smirked. "Will you sponsor it now?" "Is that it?" Spamton laughed, his brows furrowed. He hummed and took a moment to think it over. "To be honest, no. It's too..." He fingered through the photos. "Racy for your tastes?" Nagela grinned. "Yes, and I, um, wasn't expecting you to pick her as a model. Didn't you say she doesn't have the right 'stuff' for that?" He chuckled and scratched his cheek. Nagela pushed her cigarette into an ash trash, her eyes boring into Spamton's face. "I figured. I know your tastes very well, Mr. Spamton. I picked her because her skin tone complements that color very well, perhaps even more than a Pink Addison's would. I could have modeled it myself, of course, for my skin is just as fair, but you know me—I could never wear something so erotic. It may be my product, but it's clearly not made for either me or you."

Spamton stared at the photos again, trying to keep his composure. Complicated feelings swelled inside him, many of which he fought not to indulge in. This girl disturbed him. Seeing her made his throat tight and sweat bead on his forehead, but another part of him was drawn to her gentle smile, deep, dark eyes, and soft... NO, not going there! He wanted to get away from this strange little woman. In all the places he'd been, there was no one like her, a White Addison, just like he used to be. They seemed to always inevitably cross paths, no matter where he went, even if she did not notice him. Seeing her made his stomach churn and his mind numb, but he couldn't afford to show this weakness to Nagela.

He didn't want anyone to know his mind was spiraling over his decision to accept the deal offered by that call...

The one he felt destined to take because he believed he was...

Alone.

[bd-wlf]

yo, writing a Bridgerton Au! TwelveClara fic but im stuck on names for The Doctor-

[currentlyonstandbi]

forever going to be bitter about the fact we didn't get more of anakin displaying absolutely insane levels of Force power in canon material

like i'm talking 'jean grey in x-men 2 holding back the floods after the dam burst' style displays of power

[sugarskies]

absolutely begging for a funny theta/koschei crackfic or one shot. love ur deca series btw!! 🖤

hi anon sorry it took me a week to get back to u! beg and u shall receive. i was going to give context here but i can't. there is none. i don't know what this is. i had fun writing it ? and thank you!! 💖💖

without further ado... whatever this is!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I need to tell you something.”

There was an intensity to Theta’s voice that Koschei barely recognized. He wasn’t about to reveal that he’d painted a new masterpiece or blown up another classroom, it was serious. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for the news to come.

“I cheated on you,” said Theta, his tone blunt but filled with guilt. Koschei’s jaw dropped, all coherent thoughts fading in favor of deep disappointment and unbridled rage. “I’m so sorry, Kos. If you never forgive me, I’ll und—”

Koschei didn’t wait to hear Theta’s excuses. He turned around and stormed out the door, his destination already in mind. There was no way that Theta would willingly cheat on him. They were so in love, how could he? He had to have been tricked, enchanted even, and there was only one person who could be responsible.

The moment he reached the door, he pounded on it. There was no response from inside but he refused to give up. He pounded until his hands hurt, until the hinges became so weak they broke right off the wall. The door collapsed and he collapsed on top of it, panting his exhaustion as he looked around the room in bewilderment.

“What the hell did you do to my door?”

The realization that Vansell was behind him hit hard. Koschei really spent hours busting down the door for nothing. He took a second to stare at the ground in shock before he rose to his feet. He put one foot behind him, bent his knees, and braced his hands in position, ready to fight. The confusion on Vansell’s face only increased.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Koschei sneered. “You might be a piece of shit but Theta has a conscience. He told me. I know what you guys did.”

Vansell didn’t have time to so much as open his mouth before Koschei’s fist flew into his jaw. He stumbled backward into the hallway, into Theta. Theta blinked twice, briefly catching Vansell before letting go and allowing him to fall to the floor. Rather than going around or staying put since he was literally right outside the door, Theta stepped on Vansell’s stomach, ignoring the crack of his ribs and his pained groans as he approached Koschei.

“Hey.” Theta kicked Vansell’s legs out of the way when he stumbled. What an inconsiderate place to collapse. “I didn’t cheat on you with Nosebung. Do you really think I’d fuck a guy named Nosebung?”

“Haven’t you fucked him before?”

“Hate-fucking doesn’t count. We’ve been over this.”

If only because he was desperate for answers, Koschei let out a defeated sigh. “Then who?”

“It’s… come on.”

Theta took Koschei’s hand and led him out of the room. Together, they stepped on Vansell, chuckling at the quiet crack from inside his chest. Neither looked back as they walked down the hall, Vansell’s pained groans echoing behind them. Koschei didn’t have the faintest idea where Theta was taking him or who he was going to meet but it didn’t matter. The element of surprise might even work in his favor.

Because it didn’t matter who Theta cheated on him with. Not really. He was going to kill them regardless.

The further they walked, the more confused Koschei became. He’d assumed that Theta would take him to another dorm but they left that building entirely. Theta led him to the science center, past every classroom he was familiar with, to a strange door. Theta took a deep breath before he unlocked it. He reached for the doorknob with one hand, still squeezing Koschei’s hand with the other.

“You’re never going to look at me the same way after this,” said Theta, his voice barely above a whisper. Koschei gripped Theta’s hand tighter, giving him a reassuring look. It was okay. While Theta had a doorknob in his spare hand, Koschei had a knife. He was ready for anyone. At least, that was what he thought until Theta opened the door.

Of all the people he was prepared to stab—which was just about anyone in the universe—somehow, Theta managed to find the one that caught him off guard. Because, of course, the only person he could never have prepared to stab was himself. Koschei.

Koschei was standing in front of… himself?

“Hi Koschei,” said Koschei with a wave.

“Who the hell are you?” Koschei gaped. “What the hell are you?”

“Koschei.”

“No, no, I’m Koschei. You’re like… Fauxschi.”

“Okay.” His cheery shrug was the most frightening thing about him.

“Theta, what the hell is this?!”

“It’s kind of a long story. I don’t know if I really feel like— okay! Okay.” The look on Koschei’s face must’ve been murderous for the way Theta threw his hands in the air. “So, I was trying to clone a squirrel because I thought it would be really funny if there were like a thousand squirrels in here—”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Koschei.

“Me too,” said Fauxchei.

“—but one of your hairs must’ve fallen off my shirt or something because I left for one night and I came back ready to clone the squirrels and there you were. He was. And I know he’s not you but he looks like you and yeah, something in his brain is definitely wonky but he’s still really hot and I was powerless.”

“So you’re telling me…” Koschei cut himself off and blinked several times. He rubbed his eyes twice to be sure what he was seeing was real. There was no way. It was like something out of a stupid B-movie. “You’re telling me that you cheated on me with me?”

“But it wasn’t you.”

“Yeah, I know that. I meant— shit. I am pretty hot, aren’t I?”

Theta nodded enthusiastically but Fauxchei spoke first. “I am, thank you.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“You were looking at me.”

“Because you look like me. Like a poor imitation of me but still like me. I was using you as a mirror to admire my own beauty.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Can I kill him?” Koschei turned to Theta abruptly, his expression dark and his tone serious. He pulled the knife from his sleeve and held it up for Theta to see. “I know exactly where to stab him. It’ll only take me one—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his thought, cut off by Theta’s lips smashing into his. Theta’s hands grabbed each side of Koschei’s face, pulling his skin, his ears, holding him tightly as their bodies pressed together. Koschei kissed him back, one hand squeezing Theta’s waist and the other still gripping his knife.

“You’re so hot when you’re about to commit murder,” Theta breathed, his lips still almost touching Koschei’s.

“I’m even hotter when I’m doing it,” whispered Koschei as he grazed the back of his knife along Theta’s arm.

“Then do it.”

If there was any hesitation in the back of Koschei’s mind, it disappeared the moment Theta’s eyes met his, the moment Theta’s hand curled around his own and his knife. It didn’t matter who he had to kill, even if it was a clone of himself. Theta was his.

Or maybe he was Theta’s but he didn’t mind it that way.