#wanted to give some writing for this ask

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Hello I literally love ur writing style SO much, been binge reading all your httyd stuff and having a blast!!! Ty for being awesome, ur updates always make my day :3

The Jealous One pt 5

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 1848

The Great Hall is always a nice place to frequent when one’s seeking companionship. You are, however, not doing that.

Tags: fem!reader, silly, ambiguous timeline, Snotlout Jorgenson, Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston, Jealous!Hiccup, Post RoB/DoB, Pre-RTTE

<Previous - Next>

You spoke and acted suddenly with Hiccup and with a wrongness that had made you uneasy for days to follow.

Acting out with Snotlout and the Twins had gone against a lot of your do-good lay-low-and-miserable instincts, which made you momentarily numb to them, in a way. 

When you were caught up with them, too busy to think, you ended up doing things in ways you definitely wouldn't have had you been thinking normally. The joy always ended up outweighing any other feelings you might have had on what you did later, but now it was a little different.

You feigned normal, but also you avoided Hiccup a lot, so you weren’t sure how you ended up here.

“-I don’t think that does anything for most dragons,” Fishlegs looked down at Ruffnut, some of his general nervous demeanor melting away in favor of minor exhaustion at her relentless questioning, maybe catching on some, “There are some, but…”

Snotlout was off on the other side of the Hall. Be it far below him to serve. However, he’d lost a very minor bet so he had to go get you guys dinner for the next five weeks.

You weren’t quite sure where Ruffnut was. Busy, probably. 

You sighed, slightly rotating the mug you had in hand, slumping down on a nearby bench, giving the off-put Viking a rest. That wasn’t your intention, to put him off, anyways.

Tuffnut chuckled to himself, before dropping down on the opposite bench, cradling Macey over his shoulder.

Fishlegs stood watching you for a moment, before perking up slightly. 

You turned your attention away from him, choosing instead to lay your head over your arms on the table. You didn’t care to register anything past that, even as Fishlegs began silent conversation with a new party, someone you barely sensed joined him through the loud hustle and bustle of the hall.

It took a while, but eventually you heard a familiar holler, followed by an exhausted declarative, “Food’s here.”

You lifted your head genially to reveal Snotlout, with a set of four plates balanced on his arm, one balanced between the horns of his helmet. Ruffnut followed closely behind, laughing at him.

“Snotlout!” You cheered.

Ruffnut poked his middle, causing him to nearly fumble your food as he balanced angrily past moving gaggles of Vikings. 

“Hey!” He snapped, “Watch it!”

She cackled as a group of running children, followed by Gustav, nearly ran him over.

“Oh, wow,” Came a voice from your left, “Never thought I’d see him do that.”

Your head jerked to reveal Hiccup, standing above you, watching Snotlout with mild amusement, though there was something stiff about him which you thought was very well deserved.

“That’s for sure,” Said Astrid with casualty, revealing herself from behind a set of women carrying two full plates of chicken to one of the larger tables, where clans preferred to sit together.

You grimaced slightly and turned away, leaning back against the meal table behind you, elbows propped against wood. 

Then cringed as they eyed each other with mild apprehensiveness from opposite sides of the table, then rolled your eyes and scooted away slightly as you spotted Snotlout, who had finally made his way over, Ruffnut dropping a roll of thick, hastily carved spoons on the surface. 

You cringed as they clattered across wood, picking one up and rubbing it with your sleeve.  

“You have to get your own food,” Snotlout scoffed at the two plus Fishlegs as he finished unloading plates onto the table. 

“Thanks, Snot,” You batted your lashes at him falsely as he gagged, ignoring the odd, caught-off guard look from Hiccup as you glanced back.

You fought the urge to gnash your teeth at him.

“But…” Fishlegs started, staring at the plate that had once previously been on top of his head. But you knew he’d have no luck. As always, Snotlout managed to negotiate himself an extra bit of food on top of his already loaded plate.

You noticed, with glee, that your plate was loaded with a little extra stew than normal. Something Plegma usually only did for the Riders.

“Nice,” You said, somewhat pleased, lifting your brows slightly and grinning from ear-to-ear, slouching back further against the table before taking a small bite.

“Food could be better,” You said snippishly, as you nudged the stew around your bowl with a spoon, resting your mug against the table and tugging it towards you with your other hand.

“Ugh,” Ruffnut rolled her eyes.

“Stick-in-the-mud,” Snotlout agreed, though not with cheer, looking at Tuffnut with a sneer as he scratched himself in the armpit.

You blew a raspberry at them, before frowning.

Maybe you had been grumpy. 

You glared at Hiccup from the corner of your eye, a move that might look coy on someone else, though you personally just felt a little bit queasy, as if a horde of bugs had started buzzing up and down your intestines, angry as you.

What had happened- you weren’t sure it was even an argument -maybe it was- but you could have gotten over it, maybe. Going over it with Tuffnut, though, had broken something in you that you hadn’t realized you’d been building back up hanging out with one half of the Riders.

You sighed shakingly, as you finished another swallow, bringing your mug down genially. It settled on to the table by your side with a simple clack, before pushing off against the table, swinging your legs over the side.

You felt the tension in your chest release as you moved across the hall, not expecting anyone to follow.

You weaved through the throng of the Great Hall clumsily, though not without experience. One hand held your elbow, the other the handle on your mug.

Your goal was, of course, to refill your cup, though that also had the slight upside of taking you away from the Riders.

You’d gotten sick of watching them all talk together, and to be honest, you were feeling a little out of place.

People milled by, momentary, uninterested onlookers to your conversation, by the side of a lunch table; a sturdy, tall woman with red hair piled up into a huge knot, a man in a helmet with four horns knocking people aside with his elbows, large trays in hand.

A lady with a shawl passed by, covered in the skulls of small animals swept by, nearly knocking you in the head with a wooden tray, speaking loudly to someone on her other side.

Looking back, you couldn’t help thinking about how you would have loved this if you’d been just a few years younger.

Sure, you were only friends with a few of them, but-even if you weren’t at the forefront of the crowd, you always imagined you’d feel like the girl of the hour. Maybe it would have been better because of it. Sure, you were living on a small rock island in the middle of nowhere, constantly showered on by torrents of hellfire and bloodshed, but you had Hiccup.

The Riders were his dream, so being ditched felt like he was telling you to kick rocks. Like he wanted you to feel miserable. Deep down thought, you’d wanted his dream- You’d wanted to be there too.

You’d had Hiccup in those daydreams, those dreams within dreams, casual and there and real enough like goats milk on skin, like falling asleep with hands carding through your hair after a long day.

You were incensed. You wanted to cry and yell, but you also felt terrible. The feeling built high in your stomach.

You wondered if anyone else took notice. 

You had never quite spent time with all of the Riders at once, and were quite adverse to the idea. The more you thought about it, the more you were even less inclined to stay than before.

You paused at the brush of a palm over your shoulder, loose and without any sort of grip, yet feeling enough for you to take notice, stopping suddenly. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood. If you’d had hackles, they would have been raised.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” It was a bit difficult to hear over the rabble, the crowd around you built up by voices much stronger than his or yours with personality and enthusiasm, yet you were able to make it out, a voice you knew by heart all the same.

Hiccup.

You turned and reached behind you, feeling the edge of a table bump into your rear. You leaned against it, racing your hand down slightly behind you to brace and dust over its surface.

The grain of the table was lumpy under your fingers yet smoothes by years of use and the grazing passes of many other hands.

“Why do you care?” You grumbled, arms falling loosely from their cross. You were nearly surprised when he heard you after.

“Why do I care?” Hiccup shook his head, “...What’s going on?”

You nearly missed the last bit, his voice nearly drowned out by the shout of someone two tables over. It was quite difficult to hold up an argument in the middle of a crowd, it seemed.

“Nothing,” You said, in lieu of an explanation, irritation spiking in your gut.

“It’s not.”

At that moment, the large arm of a blonde man nearly pushed him onto the table aside.

You fought down the urge to smile, looking down and feeling pretty malicious.

On the floor, you were greeted by a half-eaten leg of meat lay bitten into and discarded a few lengths away from you, a puddle of what was either stew or something you didn’t want to think about just further ahead.

You grimaced and scuffed a single loose boot toe into the Great Hall stone, annoyed, not surprised at all when it slid smoothly against the surface.

“What are you getting at?” You asked antagonistically. You felt stupid, dancing around him, mostly because you didn’t want to be talking to him at all. 

Was it arrogant for you to want to get away? Was this conversation penance, punishment for your earlier outburst?

You couldn’t help but wax poetically about it in your head.

“What am I-?” That seemed to do it -tick him off, that is.

“I can’t really read that mind of yours, genius.”

“Maybe if you stopped spending so much time with Snotlout-” Hiccup stepped forwards.

You snapped, gritting your teeth and stepping closer, feeling your nails dig into your palms through the fabric of your skirts, clutched in your hands,  “What’s your deal been?! I’m friends with Snotlout. What’s the big deal?!”

“I-...” He started, looking frustrated, though his eyes darted to the side slightly, “I just-”

“Gods,” You grit your jaw, bringing your hands to your head, not flinching when a few drops of mead spilled out the other end of your mug.

You didn’t show it, but you felt terrible. 

You hated the way his brows tilted, the momentary expression of grief on his face- yet you just wanted him to leave you alone.

[wispscribbles]

I want to eat your art and writing thank you so much

Haha well I'm always happy to keep you all fed. Here, have some old sketches <33

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3

Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.

This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.

Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 

The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.

“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.

“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.

“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.

Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.

Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 

Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.

Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.

“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 

He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.

Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.

The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 

If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 

No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 

Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 

[willowser]

you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

[gambeque]

therapy sesh

[d8tl55c]

oh boy !! ! ! ! !!! ! thANK y0u all for the kind words on my last art posts. you all get it and i was/still am so happy about it

as promised, here's some close-ups of the comic for image quality's sake, and other screenshots i rescued from the community whiteboard (and something else)

first up another sketch of mystery gender-ambiguous being. (please send me more name ideas for them if you got one- i like to hear em! (reminder it's the side character that appeared for <10 seconds in AvM Ep. 30))

a few fav scenes

emotional support cwab

they weren't meant for this purpose exactly, but i do have countless "fluffy sticks" loose in my notes and homework sheets from the school years.

papery critter.

even when i wasn't confident in fur or feathers, they helped me practice posing and create some satisfying gradients/flowing poses. (im a sucker for good tail poses) (oh yay! i found a good pic...)

and finally, little sneak peak for you for reading so far ;3

i realized that whiteboardfox is pretty great for my working needs. simple and to the point and all. feels nice with the mouse and the tablet.

so i started hashing out a big project idea just to see if it holds up and

[

several hours later ...

]

oh

oh man

it's a little bigger than i expected

<next>

[fatuismooches]

DOTTORE SUNSET DATE... i would like to point out there's a lil Puffttore in the sky with a heart... i think that's adorable,,

Him admitting his feelings... :3 (marriage soon)

ACCEPTING THE CHOCOLATE BAR AT LIGHT SPEED... you know he loves you if he shares his sweets with you!!

Other random things... *nom* also because i think it'd be adorable for Dottore to actually look forward to spending an eternity with you.

Last one... he went to bed 12 AM sharp 😭

[carlyraejepsans]

HELPP i found out about character AIs and im losing it over calling deltarune sans "a more manipulative personality" 😭😭 like whatt we've only seen this man like 2 times

sorry im being a hater hgfjdks but you're the sans understander

lmaoo character.ai, look where the fall of ai dungeon got us, smh. thank you for the compliment though!

[hedwig221b]

Are you still writing? Please tell me you’re still writing?!!?

Lmao babe what do you mean "still"? I posted two fics this month. Last week, to be exact

If I don't post fics every week, it doesn't mean I'm gone like

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @astreamofstars from this ask for this prompt meme. Karlach - "It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me."

-----

“Oy, who’s the glowy bitch by the door, then?”

Karlach knows better than to bother looking up when the fresh-meat greataxe grunt starts talking, down the barracks a ways. This shit isn’t new. They always like to talk, the new arrivals to Zariel's army. And as soon as they see Karlach, no other topic will do.

Fair play enough, after all; she does kinda stick out. There's nobody else like her in the platoon, or in the whole army. In the eight years she’s been here, nobody else has ever gotten the tin can stuck into them and survived. She’s special, as Zariel likes to assure her, though special has never bought her anything but more blood and death - and the attention of every ignot who want to pick a fight.

Today’s mouthy prick is a draegloth, which explains why he’s talking a big game. A dogskull’s almost as unique as Karlach is around here; makes sense he’d pick out a target fast before anyone can pick him out for an asskicking.

“Oh, that? That's Cliffgate,” says another voice. This one Karlach recognizes - Namtar, a cambion, one of the platoon sergeants. He and Karlach have butted heads before, because Namtar is a rotten pissant. “Zariel's little kiss-ass. No heart, just an infernal engine in her chest.”

"No way," the draegloth says. "That's the Demonsbane? A ruttin' tief? Not even hellsborn?" He laughs sharply. "Lettin' in all sorts these days, uh?"

Karlach ignores the mocking words, focusing on choking down the tasteless morsels that pass for rations around here. The bunk across from her creaks unhappily as weight hits it.

“They're talkin’ about you, Dart,” Flo says with a nasty grin, settling onto the bed and lounging back against the wall. “Gonna sit here and take it?”

Karlach sighs. She picked up the nickname around her second week in the Hells, and it's never once been meant with kindness. Even Flo says it with a nasty edge, and Flo is the closest thing she has to a friend.

Good reminder, I guess, that no one here really gives a fuck about me, no matter how much I might like to pretend. Even after eight years, she can sometimes, if she squints, convince herself that there's camaraderie here, like there was in Gortash's old crew before he sold her out. But it's vain hope, a desperate attempt to pretend this place isn't rotting her fro the inside out; the illusion never lasts long and always just leaves her feeling lonelier.

"If it's not them, it'll be somebody else," she says noncommittally. "Lemme eat my dinner in peace."

"Nawww..." Flo says, comfortably dismissive. "C'mon, Dart, give us a show. Been too long since we had a proper scrap in here besides the piece in your chest."

Karlach laughs softly in spite of herself. It's a pretty weak pun, but the jokes in Avernus are as bad as the food. "I'm wore out, Flo," she says, shaking her head. "Leave off."

She looks up to find Flo's smile has turned a shade more brittle. "C'mon, now, Dart," she says, and there's a warning note in it now. "Y'know I can't be seen bein' friends with a softy. Give us a show, I said."

The message is loud and clear, as it always is. My friendship is conditional. And you'll do as I say, 'cos you *don't* want to be my enemy. Now dance.

Karlach huffs out a weary, flame-hot breath and tosses aside the last bit of her ration pack uneaten. With a groan, she pushes herself to her feet and strides down the barracks corridor towards Namtar and the draegloth.

"Hey, there she is." Namtar looks up with a lazy grin as she approaches. He's flopped on his bunk with his boots off, his wings furled neatly under him and feet up on a stack of equipment piled at the foot of the bed. "How's tricks, Dart?" Before Karlach can respond, he shoots a conspiratorial glance at the young dogskull. "Y'know why we call her Dart, Markos?"

The draegloth -- Markos -- looks puzzled. "Why?" he asks.

"Dumb-Ass Rusty Toaster." Namtar brays with laughter so hard it shakes the bed a little. "Fits, too, cos all she's good for is throwing at things t' poke holes in them."

Markos snickers loudly. Several more of the platoon have picked up on the conversation; smelling blood in the water, they've started to circle up, leaned casually against the walls or peering over the edge of their bunks. Some of them are grinning, enjoying watching the Demonsbane get a dunking. Others - the smart ones - are eyeing Karlach warily. She hasn't said anything yet, but her eyes are smoldering. In spite of herself, the rage is building. 

She doesn't want to fight them. She never has. She's always been loyal, and even in this bitch of a place, even under Zariel's thumb, she'd have fought hard for anyone here who wanted to fight for her in return. But that's never made the slightest bit of difference, because everyone here is a fucking tosser.

Hells. Maybe, when you come right down to it, so am I.

And that, really, is what enrages her, far more than these empty little insults.

"Y'know," she says slowly, looking the draegloth up and down. "I expect this sort of crap from the fresh meat. A mouth spewing shit 'cos you haven't learned to shut the fuck up yet. But you--" She turns her gaze slowly and deliberately to the sergeant. "Eight years it's been, Namtar, and neither of us dead yet, so you'd think you'd have figured out not to mess with me." She lets a slow, feral grin curl across her lips, and there's a ripple of anticipatory mumbling from the gathering crowd around them. "My fault, I guess, that you've forgotten to be scared of me. But I can fix that."

She moves suddenly, with no windup, her fists and feet all shifting at once. Her left fist crashes into Markos's jaw, knocking him back into the steel frame of the bed behind him; his skull ricochets off it with a metallic whingggg as his skull ricochets off the metal. With her left foot, she kicks behind his knee while he's unbalanced and fully flips him sideways. As he bounces back from the bedframe, he goes careening onto his front, his nose crunching into the stone floor.

Meanwhile, her other hand grabs Namtar by the collar and drags him out of his bunk. He has almost two inches on her, but she lifts him with ease one-armed, the engine roaring in her chest and sending energy coursing through her bicep. Spinning out of the kick at Markos, she slams Namtar into the wall, then releases her grip for a split second, only to refix it tightly around his throat before he can fall.

All of the cambion's bravado has vanished. His eyes are wide and brilliant white in the dark red of his face and he squirms ineffectually against Karlach's implacable grip. His wings, crunched between his back and the wall, struggle feebly. "Oy! Let me go!" he bleats, gripping her hand with both of his and trying to pull it away.

She glares at him. "Maybe. If you want to grovel a bit. Otherwise I'll finally just kill you. Maybe everyone else would finally get it through their thick skulls that you don't mess with me."

He sneers in an attempt at disdain, though it's considerably weakened by the fact that he's now struggling to breathe. "You wouldn't dare."

She laughs humorlessly and leans forward until her nose is nearly touching his, so he can feel the heat radiating off her body and see nothing but the exhausted fury in her eyes. "That really a chance you wanna take, sergeant?"

He hesitates, balanced between his anger and his fear. But something he sees in her eyes must convince him, because the fear wins. "Sorry," he mutters.

"What was that?" she asks coolly. "Didn't hear you."

"I'm sorry," he snaps. "Now let me go."

She could drag it out further, but the whole situation feels sticky as hot tar on her skin, burning down into her bones. Gods, I hate this. I hate all of it. I don’t want to be this thing they’ve made me, but I don’t know how to stop.

She releases his throat with a jerk, letting him slide down the wall to the floor, where he sits clutching at his neck and wheezing. Markos, nearby, is out cold where he hit the floor.

"Good," she mutters. "Just... stay there and shut the fuck up." She doesn't wait to hear what the other gathered soldiers might have to say, but turns and stalks away back down the row of beds towards the other end of the barracks. 

Flo gives her a slow clap as she returns to her bunk, grinning unpleasantly from ear to ear. "Nice one. Damn good show, Dart, just as I asked."

"Shut up," Karlach answers, tossing herself facedown onto her mattress. The engine is still running hot, surging pain through her chest and her head and her arms with the slow letdown of adrenaline; she can smell it searing a scorched mark into the bedsheets. "You too - just... just shut up and leave me alone.”

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

[desultory-novice]

"Apologies AU" Summary Part 1

-

Long, long ago, Earth experienced a radical climate shift that meant within as little as two generations, the planet would no longer be habitable for humans. A desperate humanity sought a new home for themselves and their progeny, eventually discovering the perfect place to start over, a planet they dubbed "The New World."

The New World was to be more than humanity's second chance at life. It would be an ideal society: all of humankind's greatness and triumph built side by side with nature, so the problems of the old world would not follow. Humanity began migrating in waves, the most privileged and wealthy and their loyalists first, of course.

Eventually, everyone would get a new lease on life.

Yes... surely...

One day, upon this fresh new world an alien life form crashed. Mysterious. Powerful. Dangerous. Also weak. Too weak to evade capture. And soon...life began to change. The people of The New World slowly turned their eyes away from those they'd left behind in their ugly past, their gaze fixed on a dream-like future. Advancement. Progress. Technology akin-to-magic. A galaxy of possibilities.

It could be theirs. It would be theirs. At any cost. Those in power would make sure of it.

Animal experiments... Human experiments...

Among these experiments was a woman with a voice so beautiful hearing her was to feel like your greatest Dream had come true...  She would fall in love with a man with a Heart so great he left his home to try and return this troubled species to the right path...

...From their union, two children would be born. 

The eldest, a boy, bore great Darkness within him. The abstract nature of his gifts proved of small interest to Lab Discovera at first, and he was tentatively returned to the care of his parents.

The second, a little girl, was a powerful vessel for Soul matter. The ability to create life, not just manipulate it. To bring something into being from nothing.

She, they wanted desperately! For they did not see a child or even a living creature, but a tool from which they could wrest their desired future of absolute control. The wielders of Dream and Heart would not hear of sacrificing their progeny for these twisted goals!

Considered fugitives from The New World for fleeing with precious "experimental equipment" they hid themselves the only place they thought safe: Old Earth, now little more than a dumping ground for exiles and failed or "disappointing" experiments, often sent down as trinkets to pacify the urban warlords who ruled over the depressed, powerless survivors of this slowly collapsing society.

The family of four lived as best as they could in the increasingly cold and harsh modern wasteland, seen as traitors to their neighbors for having worked closely with Old Earth's privileged oppressors. The children were able to avoid capture, at least.

But their parents would not live to see them grow up...

--

It is the beginning of summer, the only time of the year on "Shiver Star" where it is warm enough to be outdoors for most of the day. The planet awakens from another three season long hibernation...

Adeleine and Noir Fontaine are orphaned siblings, two young kids in their early and mid-teens just trying to survive amongst a tired and deeply bitter populace who knows that they, for one reason or another, are the ones humanity has chosen to die while the rest migrated to the bounteous and rich future of The New World.

Only Noir is old enough and wise enough to fully grasp that no matter how hard they pretend otherwise, there's no long-term survival for the two of them. And god knows, the day-to-day is hard enough.

Still, the two make it work. They thrive, even, due to Noir's endless tenacity and strong desire to save his little sister from the crushing despair he feels, even if he can save her no other way.

With society opening up again, the two quickly find themselves reunited with their childhood friend of several years. It is a happy reunion for Adeleine and an awkward one for Noir. Though even he can't help but admit, having Raquelle around makes the weight on his shoulders feel a little more bearable. Even if the slightly older girl's good-natured teasing flusters him in a complex way...

Still, they could have gone on like this together for many years, the three of them. Until the snow forgot how to melt and all life fell into a gentle sleep, buried under the white drifts. They could have.

...They could have but...

One fateful day, Adeleine's art supplies, her only personal treasure, are ruined beyond repair by people who did not care for their warm-hearted escapism. Alone, Noir follows a secret hunch and sneaks into the Museum of New World Technology, a wrecked and abandoned building formerly used to host hundreds of the broken and often dangerous tchotchkes left behind by the New World.

He finds just what he was looking for amongst the looted remains of this experimental display of new world glitz – the perfect gift for his sister. A "magical" paintbrush that ensures she will always have the tools to do what she loves. Adeleine now finds herself slowly able to bring her yet unrefined art to a fantastical new level!

While they start out as little more than animated sketches, she will in time learn to tap into powers deep within herself, powers as natural to her as breathing, to bring real items, even food, into being.

Noir finds a gift for himself as well. A sword with a strange dark aura. It speaks to him. To his soul. Anxiety. Dread. Anger. Negative emotions that Noir had been able to push aside for most of his troubled life with seemingly endless patience and resilience.

It tempts him: a weapon that does not require strength nor training to use, and effortlessly concealable as something no more noticeable than a chain necklace he can hide beneath the scarf he always has on him. Before he knows what he is doing, he has donned it.

Their summer takes a dramatic turn for the better. Long days of magic-fueled safety and silliness sponsored by "dream-like" technology. Adeleine continues to hone her skills. Noir trains with his gift as well and the inexplicable powers it grants him. He plays with being a hero, disappearing night after night to hunt "monsters."

...But this isn't a story about a hero...

Noir is disappearing more and more lately. He's tense. Frightened of something lurking just over his shoulder. He never takes his scarf off now, and he's begun to wear gloves over his hands, even inside.

One day, he reports to Adeleine that he and Raquelle had a bad fight; that she said she never wants to see him again. Adeleine, seeing the changes in her brother as a sign Noir's been deeply hurt by this experience, loyally sides with him and gives up her oldest friendship...

And so, things go back to normal for the two Adeleine...

What she cannot see is that Noir's hands and neck have begun to turn dark and withered; it is almost as if something other than blood is starting to run through his veins. Underneath his scarf, the chain necklace that gave him control over the dark sword has transformed into a collar he can neither remove nor destroy. His attempts to do so cause the sword under "his" control to attack him, violently.

Frightened, he manages to contact an exiled New World scientist, a man with a shattered mind who informs Noir of the horrible secret behind The New World's precious "miracle." That their wondrous advancements all stemmed from the extensive torture of an alien life form, a powerful psychic who even now, a planet away, is able to toy with the fates of those who gorged themselves on Forgo's pain.

Worse than the knowledge of what this information might mean for him is the realization that he has cursed his little sister to the same terrible end as he. Noir runs to her, frantic! Perhaps it is not too late! There may still be time to take it back!

Please!! Not Adeleine too...!!

And yet...

...She is fine! To his great relief! Adeleine shows no signs of the frightening, irreversible transformation he is seemingly undergoing!

Indeed, she hasn't changed one bit since her gift...

Time passes for the siblings. Slowly and quickly. Noir becomes desperate to continue to conceal and somehow free himself of his "gift." For if he were to die now, what would happen to his sister? She has no one left. But her joy at her growing abilities only makes his guilt worse. And negativity speeds along the change...

Realizing at long last that the fragile life he wishes he could return to is now forever out of reach, that he was the one who destroyed it, and that the monstrous transformation he is going through can only end in harming Adeleine as well, Noir makes a decision...

There is no escape for him. But Adeleine will be free.

At any cost.

Noir touches his sleeping sister's cheek with a hand she would recoil from if she knew what her "hero" has done and disappears into the night one last time...

Days later, Noir and Adeleine arrive at the spaceport. He has come along to bid her goodbye. He tells her not to worry. That he will follow once his paperwork is all sorted out. Unable to fully disguise his intentions, he smiles with tears in his eyes and begs her to be happy.

Happy enough...for the both of them...

Only he knows this is the last time they will meet in this form.

After she departs, Noir walks out into the snow, alone. The distant eye that had been closely watching the child born to Darkness from afar for years, that had begun to lurk inside him since he took the Dark Matter Blade, that sunk its claws into its prey for good the moment his unstoppable resilience finally slipped and he allowed himself, in his fear, to murder his best friend and consign her soul - along with the others he killed - to be enslaved to the darkness too, bursts forth, consuming his physical body.

His last thoughts are not for his own fate. He knows what he deserves.

No. They are for she whom he always thought of first. To the one he had given up everything for and knew, deep inside, he would give up his life for as well, the moment she gave him that scarf...

-

"Was I a good brother... Adeleine...?"

-

[Apologies AU Masterpost] [Noir's Field Trip Masterpost]

[plusultraetc]

Have you published this yet? 😭 i NEED IT

I have not, I'm so sorry 😭 I am a very slow writer and fake dating real feelings turned into a longer fic than I anticipated!! I do have a tag for it now where I post snippets, and here's some more of The Phone Call as an apology for how long this dang fic is taking (little language warning for anyone who needs it!):

[ssruis]

Hi hi i think youre completely right about characterization so I wanted to ask if you have any pjsk fic recs? Thank you :3

Oh god you know not what you have done

Primary ruikasa/emunene focus as is expected on ssruis dot tumblr dot com so keep that in mind but there’s a few gen fics on here.

The world offers itself - thrillingwhiteday (In progress) (ruikasa)

Super underrated… the characterization is so good… saki + rui interactions (I cheered). Lives in my head rent free.

You and a Skull’s Flower - Revelry_in_serenity (In progress) (no relationship focus but there are bg relationships)

Pandemonium gang experiences The Horrors. Recommend the author’s other works as well - Supporting Roles/Lasting Embraces/Overwritten are some other ones I really enjoyed - but I’m Very Intrigued by the plot in this one.

Warm - pyrotechpuffs (One shot) (ruikasa)

Also recommend the authors other works but this is a fave.

Soul to Wreck - sleepieash (In progress) (ruikasa)

Literally anything by helloitsaiza or calculatrice. The characterization/writing… chefs kiss… their brains are so massive. Best stuff in the tag. Rewired my brain. However this is a list of fic recs and not author recs so I’ll link some of my favorites:

Roles - helloitsaiza (one shot) (ruikasa)

Eternal sunshine - helloitsaiza (One shot) (emunene)

Special shout-out because Peak Emunene I’m actually obsessed with it.

Confess, Confess - helloitsaiza (In progress) (ruikasa)

Yours - helloitsaiza and calculatrice (one shot) (ruikasa)

Backstage after the curtain call - calculatrice (One shot) (ruikasa)

To sear the sky - calculatrice (One shot) (ruikasa)

A study in performance - calculatrice (One shot) (ruikasa)

Funhouse mirror - calculatrice (in progress) (no relationship focus, wxs & niigo)

Special shout-out because tsukasa + mafuyu body swap is such a galaxy brained idea

Rui’s doki-doki seishun school life - calculatrice (one shot) (ruikasa)

^ read all of these they go so hard 10/10

Because it’s you - sleepy_macchi (one shot) (ruikasa)

Act I of our story - Asteromeda (one shot) (ruikasa)

The show must go on - literallyjustsomeguy (in progress but it’s been like 2 years so it might be abandoned) (ruikasa)

I don’t like recommending stuff that may remain unfinished but I’ll make an exception for very funny tsukasa tenma stupidity moments

X marks the spot - seatrix (in progress) (ruikasa)

Underrated… love the characterization & plot.

Voted most likely to run away with you - eightyeightstars (one shot) (ruikasa)

Sharing is caring - underwaternature (one shot) (ruikasa)

Tête-à-tête - kuiperbelts (one shot) (ruikasa)

Also recommend the authors other works I just really like the tsukasa characterization in this one

All I want (is you) - sorasekai (one shot) (emunene)

Recommend their other works as well for good emunene

Ikanaide - gummysaur (finished) (tsukasa focus, gen wxs)

Also recommend their other works but (chefs kiss) tsukasa characterization

Closeness - lyriablackfrost (one shot) (ruikasa)

Find out who you are, and then do it on purpose - weepingstars (transfem rui focus, gen wxs)

And I will still live here - utayoru (one shot) (ruikasa)

Their other works are good as well but this is a fave for the early pjsk days rui characterization

With me all along - jeiseny (one shot) (saki focus, gen)

SAKI… (ugly crying) beautiful exploration of chronic illness. And it doesn’t focus on her fucking brother (staring with homicidal intent @ wider pjsk fanbase). Made me go ouuggh relatable several times.

[slyvester101]

I know this is another ask so soon lol but how do you think Wash's and Tucker's relationship would go if Tucker was in season 6? Tbh I already have my own interpretation that they are instant enemies, Wash's worst nightmare and it took the personification of a aqua sim trooper. Their stubbornness knows no bounds and it's worst when they met before having their character development. Someone has to hold Tucker back before he gets murdered by a trigger happy freelancer for not shutting tfu.

Ask away my fine fellow

I think if Tucker was with the reds and blues during season 6, there’d be a lot more roasting of Agent Washington. Church and Tucker bounce off of each other, sending rib after rib to anyone in the area, including the other. Which means that Wash has to deal with twice the amount of insults and bickering. It is easier to manage Caboose since Tucker was the one to keep an eye on him when Church left Blood Gulch first (because Church always leaves first) and he is much better at keeping Caboose on track than Church. 

While I do think Agent Washington dislikes Tucker when they meet, he also recognizes how smart and resourceful the guy is and sees the potential he has and how much he's holding back in order to be underestimated. It makes him wary. Additionally, I think Tucker’s flirting and care-free attitude reminds him a lot of York, so he has to deal with that while also trying to command a guy who reminds him of his dead friend. He tries to stay away from Tucker as much as possible. (It does not work, they fight all the damn time)

(They both consider murder many times)

Tucker is definitely more wary of Agent Washington as well and questions everything he commands and undermines his authority all the time. So basically Tucker being Tucker. Tucker would also be more grumpy about being on this mission since it took him away from his son (if Tucker was to join without completely breaking the timeline, I think it would make more sense for him to go to the desert temple after the whole epsilon and Meta showdown). He would also hold a personal vendetta against Wash since he would be there when Church dies and make that link to his best friend dying to Agent Washington, which means when they meet again, Tucker is down and ready to rip this guy apart.

All this would make Wash’s eventual addition to the team a bit more strained and awkward. Tucker is even more petty and even downright mean to Wash because of everything that happened and takes much longer to warm up to him. Wash takes it with the same amount of grace as always, trying to be diplomatic about it and be a good teammate (I don’t think Tucker would be as willing to call Wash “team leader” after everything that happened, so they decide to be something like co-leaders since Tucker is the highest-ranking soldier and a pretty good fighter in his own right and Wash has the most experience). 

They’re basically begrudging parents to Caboose by the time Carolina shows up. They bicker like an old married couple worthy of competing against Grimmons. (Tucker shows he’s finally warming up to him when he stops calling Wash various names like “agent fuckface” “agent friend killer” “agent team wiper” and starts calling him “Wash”)

While they go planet hopping with Carolina, Tucker learns about Wash and his time with freelancer and he realizes how absolutely fucked up he is (he knew he had issues, but holy shit). He’s a bit more willing to work with Wash, and to some extent Carolina, near the end and after their mission to kill the director. (That whole scene where Wash choses to protect Tucker from Carolina, choses blue team over freelancer, is the day Tucker finally accepts Wash as his friend.)

By the time they crash on Chorus, I think Tucker and Wash have really mellowed their relationship and have learned to rely on each other. They’re the dynamic duo, the one-two punch that leaves you reeling, a scary ass pair for anyone they face. Even after Church leaves again, Tucker and Wash don’t have that power dynamic of “anxious ex-specops authority figure” and “angsty asshole who hates following orders” since they’ve spent a lot of time learning how to work together as blue team leaders. Tucker is still angsty and Wash is still paranoid, but it’s more of a partnership than the mentorship we see Wash having with Tucker in the og show.

I think it makes their separation on Chorus even more heartbreaking for the both of them since they’ve gotten so close. They haven’t trusted someone like this in a long time, someone who’s so good at reading them and knowing when to give encouragement but also not afraid to call out your bullshit. It also makes their reunion so fucking awesome because they can finally let down their guard a little and trust someone else to pick up some of the load. 

I don’t know how it would change the course of the rest of the show since I’ve only watched up to season 12, but I think at that point it’s basically the same as it would be in the show.