#when im most exhausted and burnt out

[4byun]

( ´_ゝ`)

[moon-buggg]

SCP au drabble

set a week after YN gets taken to the facility, basic au info here

warnings: yn was kidnapped by an offbrand scp foundation after they didn't get killed by Moon and thats whats being discussed and im not sure how to tag that. Yn is a little emotionally dumb, flirty sun

no word count because I wrote this in the tumblr post maker in a frenzied haze

-

"You are stuck here... because of us?" Sun asks, carefully, tentatively. His, frankly, absurdly tall body hunches over so he can be at eye level. Under any other circumstances, you'd be terrified of the strange creature trying to comfort you. As is, his presence is incredibly comforting; the sole friendly face in a sea of questionable actors.

"I mean, pretty sure they expected Moon to kill me," Sun flinches just slightly, ears tilting ever so slightly back, "so I don't think I was ever meant to leave this stupid place, anyways."

You'd fallen asleep in the darkness of what you now know as Sun and Moon's room, and had awoken to several researchers and armed guards preparing you for a barrage of tests. Those first few days had been a horrible mess of exhausting tests and tedious interviews as your white-coated captors tried desperately to discover what made you different.

Why you'd survived.

They still hadn't found anything, but at least the tests seemed to be slowing down ever so slightly. After an uneventful introduction to the more passive, daytime version of the thing they expected to kill you, it was decided that you'd be allowed to visit him once every other day.

Jury seemed to still be out on if it was worth risking another encounter with Moon.

"It's not your fault," you add after a beat of silence, "or Moon's for that matter. You're both trapped here just as much as I am."

A soft, crooning sound rumbles out from Sun's chest as he slinks back into a seated position that leaves him still about a head taller than you. Gentle lights pulse across his fur, barely visible under the harsh fluorescent lights. He seems to struggle to find the right words, before giving up.

Carefully, as if approaching a startled animal, he reaches out a hand. When you don't react to the long claws coming at you, he continues. Turning over his hand to keep those sharp claws decisively away from you, he runs his knuckles over your head in a clear attempt at a comforting gesture.

It's startling how much it works.

"Oh starlight, far too kind for a place like this." His voice is soft and quiet in a way that makes your face feel warm. You choose not to think about it too hard. "You shouldn't be locked away."

"Neither should you." The words are harsh and automatic, and seem to startle Sun who draws back as if burnt. His glowing fur brightens significantly, its starting to get uncomfortable to look at, actually.

He recovers quickly.

"There you go," the words are teasingly chiding, "proving me right starlight." He reaches a long claw out again, this time using his knuckle to gently boop your nose.

He bends, using his long neck to crowd into your space. It's hard not to feel a little threatened by those big teeth so close to your face, and Sun's widening smile does little to help. Seems like you can't help but feel flustered today.

"At least you'll have me to keep you company." His voice is just a bit too hopeful, like he's desperate for you to agree. Poor guy seems utterly starved of positive affection. The urge to comfort him is hard to ignore, so you don't.

It's easy enough to thread your fingers into the long mane of fur that frames his face. The feeling is distracting, it's so warm...

Movement brings you back to the moment as Sun leans ever so slightly into your touch. Right, right, you had a reason for this.

"We're in this together," you say in what you hope is your most sturdy, comforting voice. Sun's presence has done a lot for you in the few days you've been here so far, and you want to do your best to be a comforting presence to him in return. You don't miss the way his fur seems to glow brighter and hotter at your words.

Acutely aware of where your hands are, you realize that grabbing a giant monsters face out of no where probably wasn't your best idea.

"Sorry!" you quickly release Sun's face, your own face hot with embarrassment, "Sorry! I shouldn't have just grabbed you like-"

"We didn't mind, starlight," he interrupts, pulling back out of your personal bubble. His hand ghost over where you touched, smoothing the fur back down, "no, don't mind at all."

[redraine57]

Yesterday was probably one of the most mentally unstable days Ive had in awhile. I arrived at the gym but before I could get out my car this huge wave of emotions sent me into an hour long hysterical crying fit. I still wanted to go to the gym despite my instability but felt too embarrassed and ashamed to be seen in public in my vulnerable state. I waited out the storm as long as I could but found myself considering just going home and resting given how exhausted I felt from my breakdown. Then I remembered all the times as a teenager when I was most suicidal still getting in my workouts, still finishing school assignments, and still getting in meals when I had no drive to even exist. Told myself Im STILL that bitch and took my puffy-eyed delusional anxious ass into the gym and finished my leg day refreshed, relieved, and having discovered that I can move good weight on the sled again pain free. I’ve been dealing with hypomania for awhile and sometimes I often forget that even though my mind is burnt out, my body is on a different playing field. Idk how much weight I pushed on the sled. Idk how many sets I did. All I know is I kept going back and forth between lunges and pushing that sled until there was no more room for mental anguish. Another day of dealing with my bipolar self-harm free, the weights done save my life again 🦾🖤

[yandere-daydreams]

ooo im wondering what type of android itto fits into? he kinda gives me similar vibes as the zhongli one, as in at first he’s your loveable, sweet and funny companion! but underneath some different levels of code you may be able to bring out a more oni-like personality, or, he may even bring it out himself at meeting you

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, marking, and slight isolation.

he'd definitely be an inhumane-type companion droid for people who either don't like the quiet, brooding personality of most of the Adeptus bots, or just prefer their proportions a little more generous than what Xiao or Ganyu have to offer. he's sweet, and affectionate, and as eager for your attention as he is to prove that he deserves your attention - whether that means carrying every single bag for you whenever you take him out to run errands or moving your hips himself when you're in his lap and too exhausted and overstimulated to do anything but bury your face in his chest and moan while you find out just what a 'knotting function' is. he's considerate, too, prone to carrying you to bed and making a very, very earnest attempt at cooking for you - that is, before you get tired of waking up to burnt pans and screaming smoke alarms and ban him from the kitchen without supervision. he functions as a bodyguard, too, even if you can't say you've ever found him intimidating, personally. still, his height, paired with his horns and the fact that his designs took the time to make him look the part despite all droids being roughly equal in terms of mechanical strength - you certainly haven't had any problems with intruders or strange men with ill-intent since he arrived, at least.

the only complaint you'd have about him, if any, is that he's just a little too good at his job, sometimes. you know what companion droids are for, that you're supposed to feel special and appreciated and loved, but it's one thing to have him take a little extra time to kiss your forehead as he manhandles you onto your hand and knees and another entirely to feel your heart beating out of your chest as he clings to your arms and introduces himself not as your companion, or your assistance droid, but your boyfriend. it's your own fault, probably, if only for getting an android so famous for not acting like an android when there are dozens of different models known to be more subtle, but still, he can just be so personal, get so intimate while he's showering you with compliments or whispering all the dirty, graphic things he's going to do to you, next time he gets a chance.

you've asked him to tone it down before, not to hold your hand so tightly when you're together, but it never really sticks, and there seems to be something in his coding more focused on being close to you than making sure you're happy that he's so close. you absolutely love him, and there's nothing you'd ever change, but he can just be so clingy, sometimes, so determined to be constantly on your heels. that might explain the bruises on your thighs, the bite-marks littered over your neck and chest. that might be why he looks at you the way he does - with a manic kind of stare, constantly expectant, constantly waiting for his next opportunity to get you alone.

that might be why you're starting to wonder if it's really such a good thing to have Itto so close to you.

[omgwhatchloe]

ok im just going to say it i think sean directly after he was saved from the bounty hunters was unrealistic, when he was bouncing around calling arthur a great man.

are you actually going to tell me, rockstar, that he has the energy to be doing allat? because i know damn well they havent been feeding the boy, letting him drink much, cleaning him up cuz they sure as shit arent just gunna let him have a piss. hes had his teeth pulled, feet burnt, we see him get the shit kicked out of him as theyre dragging him off the boat, they keep him with a dry ass bag over his head in the boiling sun, theyve most likely been doing worse to him. a honestly more realistic approach would be them literally dragging his exhausted self up the canyon, and then he barely moves to get up when cut down from his rope.

he should’ve been exhausted, sick, begging for water or whisky or anything, looking like actual shit, and not even had the energy to walk to the horses. for bonus angst they could’ve made the other boys concerned about poor sean but again it is rockstar

[bitchsister]

EYY curt is canon to me so he's one insatiable slut so how about a very horny curt riding a sleeping bucky, ofc it's with consent since bucky is so used to it lol (or bucky just a lil bit sleepy and tired and just letting curt uses his cock however he please)

Okay so how did you know IM A SICK BITCH WHO’S SO INTO THAT. Like this is so real & so Curtie. Bucky is a tired “old man” and Curtis is an always so very horny twenty year old, ten fingers, ten toes, from the Bronx. 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Since this is an EYY drabble, Curtis calls Bucky by the nickname Binky.

Insatiable slut Curtis, activate 🥴

Instances of true privacy are few and far between, so Curt tends to take every moment alone with Bucky and use it to his utmost advantage — even if he’s dead asleep.

Still acclimating to the experience of being in-flight, Bucky found himself thoroughly drained by the relentless stress that accompanied it all. The weight of his concerns for Curt, Gale, and the entire one hundredth pressed upon him, but not when claimed by sleep.

He slept like a rock and radiated heat like a stove.

If his grip on Curt’s ribcage wasn’t enough to cause a little unrest, then the sweat was.

"C'mon," Curt whispered, though his complaint lacked any real conviction. He gently unraveled Bucky's fingers, one by one, allowing himself to slowly slip out of his grasp. Eventually, he settled himself atop Bucky's thighs, feeling the caress of the cool air from a cracked window in their resting apartment, its gentle touch teasing his dampened skin.

From there, he got the best view.

Bare chest, softened brow, cheekbones for days.

Full lips, gorgeous neck, the scar upon his cheek.

The birds began to chirp outside, dancing along the clotheslines but there was still no sign of the sun just yet — Curt glanced at the clock by their bedside, clicking his tongue.

Only half past four.

He sat for awhile, letting Bucky’s sleeping grip grab onto him again until the weight upon his own hipbones woke him. “Noo,” he whined, still too sleepy to wake up fully, or open his eyes. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

Curt could run off of fumes alone.

Most of the time, he did.

Sleeping was a damn waste of time if you asked him, especially for men whose next breath may be their last. “Mhm.” He hummed softly, his fingertips gently ghosting over the knuckles that still gripped onto him despite his exhaustion.

Bucky’s head lulled to the side, his heart relishing in this moment despite being plucked straight from a deep sleep — he’d been met with the most beautiful voice, the most comforting feeling.

“So, let’s see it, then.”

Curt hummed again in a gentle protest, shaking his head though Bucky couldn’t see it. He ground himself against the man lying beneath him — but barely.

It was enough for Bucky’s body to notice, but hardly his brain.

Curt leaned in, pressing his face against Bucky's neck, reveling in the familiar scent that resided there. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips, uncontrollable and infectious. "Burnt sugar," he whispered, his words a soft breath that danced amidst the curls cascading along the nape of Bucky's neck.

“Huh?”

“It’s what you smell like.”

Curt remembered the summers with his PopPop in the Catskills when he was younger, pouring sugar onto spoons with his sisters and using a lighter to heat it until it bubbled.

Sweet, sticky, just a little bitter.

Bucky's sleep-laden chuckle escaped, a soft and mellow sound that conveyed his contentment. He remained drowsy, unwilling to open his eyes. "Oh, yeah?" he responded, his voice carrying a tender warmth, much like his usual demeanor, but with an added touch of endearment.

“Yeah.”

Curt inhaled again, pressing his face deeper into the curve of his neck where he wished he could stay forever.

There, no wars existed and none of their friends had died.

“What do I smell like?” Curt asked in a whisper.

There fell another silence, blanketing them again in warm comfort until Bucky wrapped his arms around Curt and murmured, “Mine.”

Oh, bleeding hearts.

Curt sat up and looked down at Bucky who finally decided to barely open his eyes, a sleepy smile tugging his lips as he lazily palmed circles into Curt’s belly.

They’d fallen asleep naked, of course, so each rotation had caused his wrist to brush against Curt’s already hardening cock.

This was far from the first time Curt had roused himself from slumber before the break of dawn, determined to persuade Bucky that they both deserved a treat. He knew, however, that this time he would need to employ a touch more persuasion.

“Gimme some lovin’.” He wiggled his ass and pushed his body further into Bucky’s touch who groaned softly, his eyes closed again and the invisible circles he’d been drawing over Curt’s belly growing sloppy and light handed.

“Tired, baby.” His eyes had closed again.

This was the response Curt was expecting, but not the one he wanted.

He whimpered, reaching back to grab Bucky’s cock that had stiffened slightly but not enough to do anything with. With a quickness, he scrambled between his thighs and shoved them apart, admiring his half hard cock with a devious grin.

“Well, he ain’t.”

It was awhile before Bucky responded.

“He’s never tired.”

Curt allowed his mouth to kiss and lick and suck wherever it wanted. His tongue licked fat, wet stripes over his cock and down to his tight balls, over his thighs and back again. “That’s good, ain’t it?” His lips popped off of Bucky audibly, his chin dribbling with sticky spit.

Bucky’s body had flushed, his cheeks turning red as a little chuckle bubbled out of him. “You like takin’ advantage of an old man?” He teased, reaching a hand down to blindly rake his fingers through Curt’s messy mop of brown waves.

“Well, it ain’t takin’ advantage if that old man begs me to fuck myself harder on it.” Curt continued to mouth at Bucky’s cock, muttering filth against it. “Growin’ boys have needs, Binky.”

“You ain’t growin’ more than this.” Bucky quickly retorted, though he still sounded like he was fighting sleep as Curt stroked him, licked him, sucked him off with the most obscene sounds swirling around them. “Try as you might. Ain’t happenin’.”

“Hey,” Curt whined, nipping at Bucky’s inner thigh, “What if I have a real late growth spurt? And I got taller than you, huh? What then?”

Bucky would roll his eyes if they were open, but the tone of his voice had been more than enough. “You gonna sit on it?” He tugged at his hair, causing his neck to curve. “And quit runnin’ your mouth?”

Curt huffed, the sound of sheets rustling and the bed creaking whirled around their heads until he was straddled again over Bucky’s cock, spit slicked between his cheeks with his own fingers before he stuffed himself full of Bucky, and the smell of burnt sugar.

They both hummed, satisfied and in their most comfortable positions — closest to one another, becoming one.

Curt cooed, sharp breaths sucked through his teeth once he began making slow, calculated movements.

It wasn’t long before he was a whining mess, though.

His entire body flushed a pretty pink, his chest heaving, his tiny hands grasping onto any part of Bucky and himself that they could reach. “You feel taken advantage of?” Curt huffed, sucking his own fingers, his left hand stroking himself.

Bucky grinned, hands splayed over Curt’s warm thighs. “Oh, absolutely.” He whispered, eyes cracking open again to gaze at his little darling, all sweaty and whimpering, wild hair and wet lips. “God, you’re fuckin’ filthy.” He moaned, knowing well enough that his cock was more Curt’s than it was his own.

“Y’gonna gimme what I want?” He was practically begging. Bucky knew Curt couldn’t finish if he wasn’t full of it — they’d tried before to get a couple quickies in here and there, but it failed miserably.

The only way to guarantee an orgasm from Curt was to first orgasm yourself. Inside of him.

It was endearing, of course, but meant they couldn’t rub one out together if need be.

Curt required far more attention than that.

And he deserved it.

Bucky grabbed hold of Curt’s soft little hips before he rose his own to hammer into him, forcing out little whines and squeaks with each thrust until he found himself becoming a mess, groaning fuckfuckfucks.

The second Curt had noticed the warmth growing in his belly like a blazing ball of fire, he spilled his own hot sticky mess over Bucky’s chest.

They caught their breath and Curt continued the small little circular rotation of his hips, bending to lick up his own come, dribbling it into Bucky’s mouth, nipping his neck, biting his chin, sucking his nipples, moaning and whining as Bucky’s softening cock had left him feeling less full than he was only a moment ago.

“One more.” Curt panted, licking at Bucky’s chest again. “Please.”

[crushedgraham]

Headcanons for female reader who’s dating Mercy and Widowmaker when reader is sick? :)

Poly! Mercy x Widowmaker x Sick Gf

i didn't know if you meant poly or separate so i just did poly 🥲

update: IM SO SORRY IM TAKING SO LONG WITH REQUESTS, im getting kinda busy with school but i promise to have most requests done on the weekend!

babe you're literally dating a world renowned doctor.

you'll be getting the BEST treatments on the market

but that also means she won't have much time to take care of you...

she can take like 2 days off at most

which is why she writes out long, intricate instructions on how to take care of you for amélie

in my opinion amélie thinks sickness is disgusting.

like whenever you have a crunchy cough or you throw up, she'll have to physically hold back from making a disgusted face

but she pushes through for you

amélie wont spend that much time in the same room as you because she doesn't want to get sick, but she will occasionally come into your room to check up on you

(i feel like her immune systems much weaker now that her heart beats so slowly)

whenever she does visit you, she sends a short text to angela to keep her informed

she may seem cold and nonchalant about your sickness but when she thinks your asleep, she'll sit on the edge of the bed and kiss stroke your sweaty hair

amélie will press her cool palm to your forehead in hopes of relieving your fever

seeing you so weak and broken down sends an ache deep into her heart

she'll complain to angela about how she can barely sleep in a bed with others, especially when one's "infested with diseases" but when the angel comes back from work shes welcomed with the sight of amélies arm wrapped protectively around your waist to keep the fever away as you two sleep soundly

angelas heart Explodes.

after carefully renewing the cool towel on your forehead and checking your temperature, she'll start taking pictures of you two from EVERY angle

her pictures aren't really the best but it's cute!

she makes it her lockscreen and she'll open her phone in between shifts just to look at the picture with a love sick smile

once shes all cleaned up, she'll slide into bed in one of your oversized t-shirts and whisper a small "goodnight liebling, goodnight schatz"

in the morning, angela's exhausted since she usually sleeps in after long shifts but she forces herself to get up so she can take care of you

she sits up in bed for a good amount of time just trying to gather all of her energy to get out bed

but before she can move another muscle, a cool hand is on her wrist, gently tugging her back

"rest. i can take care of her"

the angel eagerly lays back into the bed and knocks out almost instantly

though she wakes up only about an hour later to the smell of burning...chicken??

she quickly rushes to the source of the smell until shes face to face with amélie who's scrubbing away at a blackened pot

empty cans of chicken noodle soup litter the counters

amélie turns around with the burnt pot in her hand and a sponge in the other and they just stare at each other for a moment

"do not say anything."

"i didnt plan to, how about we grab breakfast at that café you love so much?"

"oui, ange"

they walk to the nearby café together, talking about how their days went

"YOU FED HER BURNT SOUP TWICE???"

yeah...at least you got delicious pastries to make up for those...

liebling - darling

schatz - treasure

ange - angel

[olivyh]

hi,

if u are not busy with anything, can u do malleus x reader with angst to comfort?

Great work, take care of yourself

A/N: I have so many requests that I haven't gotten around to I'm sorry guys ;;;; I'm on a motivation kick so I'll start getting those out as soon as I can! ALSO IM A SUCKER FOR POETIC MALLEUS AND IT MAKES MY HEART GO BOOM bc tell me why Malleus is literally the "my love, I am intoxicated" meme

Happy chapter 7!!!

TW: Drowning, maybe suicide if you look a little closely

Malleus is constantly reminded of the day he nearly drowned in the tub as a child.

It's silly, to think that the heir to the Valley of Thorns would be destined to face death in a bathtub.

It wasn't his fault that it was silent aside from the dripping of the water that poured from the side of the tub and leaked onto the tiles the more he sunk into it. Not his fault that he was so exhausted from his daily lessons that his hands burned and cramped as he felt a knot where his neck met his back that he couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how much he fidgeted and stretched. The warm water of the bath seemed to seep deep into his bones and nestle within him, reigniting the fire that had been so thoroughly burnt out from his short time of living as the crown prince of the valley of thorns.

Malleus stared at the ceiling, listening to the muffled howling of the wind outside and trying to bite back the chill of the air that rests on the tip of his nose as a harsh contrast to the comfort of the water, heated by his servants' magic and maintained by his own. The intricate carvings of warriors and magicians alike; fae and human both dueling as sparks flew across the tapestries and danced within the stone, jewels embedded within the eyes that seemed to stare at him.

As a child, Malleus used to fear the unspoken words that lay within those gemstones. He could not decipher if they were cruel, or if they were kind. Did the human wish to speak to him or kill him?

The fae that stretched from the marble seemed even more daunting, their eyes glowed in the dim candlelight of his bathroom casting long shadows across their sharp face as they glared down at the boy who sunk deeper into the bath at their gaze. They seemed to be frowning at him rather than at the much smaller human they were dueling.

"This is your fault," He imagined them saying. "What kind of ruler are you?"

"I'm not..." Malleus would sniffle, his tears dripping into the water, masked by the dampness that cascaded from his strands and streaked down his worried face, bright, innocent green eyes filled with too much worry for a child so young as him. The weight of the world upon small shoulders, too much a weight for a child alone to bear. The sins and torment of war, the blood of human and fae alike on his small hands that had just learned to hold a pen properly. What was he not? What was he, truly? The crown prince of the valley of thorns? A Dragon fae? Among the most powerful in the world?

Was he not the ruler he was told he would be? Was he a ruler at all?

Power was a heavy burden, much too heavy even for the child who had the delicate balance of the world placed in his care.

Malleus sunk deeper into the water, feeling his body relax further as his tail wrapped comfortingly around his leg. He often daydreamed that it would be his mother combing his hair and dousing the thick ivory strands, telling him tales of when she was a young child, a Princess before a Queen, as he would play with the suds that floated gently to the surface.

In that world, his parents were both still alive and well, not yet cast carelessly to the whims of the underworld. His grandmother would still sit with him and listen to his babbles and his fairytales, not yet burdened with the work of three royals- the crown prince not yet ready to wear the crown's weight (he feared that if he were to wear it, it would slip around his neck and crush his windpipe, the weight too large and the boy too weak).

He sighed and sank deeper into the water, exhaustion pulling at his soft eyelids and gushing him into a dreamless sleep. He felt the warmth around him- perhaps the warmth of his mother's arms or his father's hand upon his head. The warmth of his grandmother's coat and of Lilia's encouragement as he tucked him into bed (Malleus supposed that he missed that most of all, the thought of Lilia dying on the battlefield leading to many tear-filled nights sobbing quietly into his pillow. He missed the bat fae most of all, and dreaded the day the man's troops would come back into the kingdom and General VanRouge would be nowhere to be seen. Oh how he longed for Lilia to have written down a story or two for him to read on long nights such as these.).

Suddenly his lungs were filled with that warmth, and Malleus was sure he was drowning as he stared through the surface of the water back at the scenes that played out on the ceiling.

What scared him the most was that he did not flail, nor scream nor cry nor beg the stars for another chance at life. He was at peace as the water took him, as it filled his being and blurred his vision beneath the soapy water.

Bitterly he thought that a lavender-scented death would not be the worst.

The servants pulled him from the bath and pampered him, escorted him into his room and helped him get into his pajamas (luxurious, yes, but the collar was much too tight and reminded him all too much of the scratchy lace of the collars he's forced to wear day in and day out, a constant reminder of the threat that came with his title. One wrong move and he will lose his head, he's sure.).

Every day Malleus was reminded of that peace, of the chill that bit at his cheeks from the storm outside, of the absolute bliss that came with finally allowing his body to float in the vastness between life and death.

He was no longer a child, and the shadow of the crown that loomed overhead became more and more solid as it reached for him, thorns that wrapped around his limbs and held him to the ground, biting into his pale skin and ripping into his leathery wings until he grit his teeth and set them all ablaze in a green glow that consumed the world should he lose control. Malleus was forced to twirl in a macabre waltz with his destiny, the destiny that doomed him to centuries of solitude, of isolation from the warmth he sought oh so desperately.

By the time Lilia had returned from the war, Malleus was no longer the wide-eyed, innocent child that he once had been. The fanciful stories no longer filled him with warmth- it filled him with the dread and the sorrow that came with knowing that he could never achieve that fairytale ending that he craved. Even Lilia could not undo the effects of the jeers of the citizens of the Valley of Thorns, the trauma cause by sharing death after death that lingered within the tall stone walls of the castle- all caused by the war that was declared by his own blood.

He was a prince, yes. But he could never fill the role of being someone's savior for he was the villain in everyone's story but his own. He could never hold someone as close as he wished, for he would rather lock them away in a tower far, far away from everyone else because he would finally have something that was his, someone who did not stay around him due to obligation or fear- someone who stayed simply because they wanted to.

Perhaps that part of his nature was what made him so villainous, so unlovable to all those who were near.

His loneliness left him in more agony than the thorns that had detained him from birth. The isolation was similar to the cold that nipped at his porcelain skin that same night. He'd imagined that only a watery grave could lift the weight of the crown from his head. Malleus often imagined that same warmth as he watched the jeweled headpiece float to the surface as he sank to the bottom. With a morbid curiosity he often wondered what it would feel like to give into that craving for release- would the people mourn him? Or would they instead mourn the empty position left over?

Yet, the chill of the night seems to be at bay as he sits now with his lover in his arms, head resting against his broad chest as they sleep peacefully, face twitching with every movement within their dream. He slowly wraps the blanket tighter around them as his eyes trail to the small fireplace that sat in Ramshackle's lounge. The fire crackled and snapped, small embers rising up the chimney as the walls creaked with the same wind that shook him to the core that very night.

He had found his warmth, his breath of air as he broke free from the surface. The crown would still lay heavy atop his head, would still scratch at his horns and get tangled in his hair as the vines would still bite into his skin as he tore away at them only for more to appear in their places.

He would bear all that and ten times more for his love.

Malleus rests his hand against their head, smiling softly at the way they stir in their sleep as they felt his icy hands make contact with their own heated skin.

"My Love?" He whispers, deep voice reverberating in his chest against the peace of the night. "Would you stay if you truly knew the burden of being a royal?"

No response, not that he expected any. The fae continues anyways, feeling his jaw clench as tears stream down his face.

"Would you deny me if you knew of the agony you would go through? Would you shut me away and leave me forgotten in this wasteland if you had a mere taste of the burden that is loving a prince?" His breaths were becoming more ragged as the tears continued to fall. "Would you still hold my affections within your heart if you'd heard of the condemnable thoughts that race through my mind- the thoughts that tell me to hide you away and keep you safe from this damnable world we call ours?" The war and the blood and the grief from the blood spilled, isolation, endless nights in his study, a prince forced to be alone by himself for centuries, discarded if not for the blood that pumps through his veins.

"Would you mourn me if I allow your warmth to be my demise?"

"Mal?" He hears them murmur. He feels a twinge of guilt for waking them, unaware of his sniffling and how it disturbed their slumber.

"Apologies, my Love."

"Don't be sorry," They rub their eyes and Malleus feels as though he held his very future within his clawed hands, images of seeing them in this state day and night flashing through his mind at such high speeds that it makes his head spin as he subconsciously holds them tighter. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Please, rest."

"Are you sure?" They sit up and press their forehead to his as they allow their eyes to slip closed once more, pressing a soft kiss to his cold lips and pulling away far too soon for the greedy dragon’s liking. "How can I help you?"

"Hold me, please," Malleus can't hide the desperation that seeps into his voice as the words climb from his throat. They wrap their arms around his neck and pull him closer into the plush couch. He wraps his arms around them as well, one arm snaking around their waist while another entangles itself in the hair at the base of their skull as he buries his face in the crook of their neck, careful of his horns. It's only a matter of seconds before his lover is fast asleep once more, and Malleus feels the pull of slumber upon himself. He allows his eyes to slip closed, pulling the human closer to him and praying to the stars that he dreams of this moment for now and forever.

[xuanzangg]

modern au. ages up to 20+. fluff, fluff, fluff, comfort!!

"suguru." you called out for him, lying down on a mattress on your shared apartment suite's living room. you noticed that your lover has been tired, stressed and burnt out from work lately and you wanted to make him feel better.

this leads to you setting up a date for the two of you in a nearby lake where flowers blooms throughout the spring season, the grass cut off comfortably for a picnic.

"yes love? can i do something for you?" he replied to you and scooped you up to his arms, placing you on his lap as he sat down the couch where you were lying down earlier.

you cup his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses, "lately, i've been noticing that you've been working a little too hard so," you took a deep breath before telling him your plan, "if i remember correctly, today's your day off. with that being said, i decided that we should go somewhere. i've already prepared everything so you dont have to worry about the stuffs we'll need to bring." you smiled at him sweetly, tucking a strand of his har dangling on his hair behind his ears. his face lighted up with what you've said, "a date? now that's what i want. i've wanted to spend some time with you lately but i've been so busy with work. im glad you thought about this." he kissed your forehead, smiling at you and whispering a 'thankyou' to your ears as he wrapped his arms around you.

_________________________________________

an hour of driving, you two have arrived on the said location. the flowers sure are lively and beautiful today, the grass is not tall and you can definitely lay down the picnic blanket on the ground without struggle. suguru then put the basket of foods you've brought on the ground, setting up the plates, spoons, forks and water glasses along with the 66oz tumbler you brought just in case you get thirsty.

what i can say is, suguru definitely enjoyed the picnic date you had arranged for the both of you. he was happy, grateful and feeling much better than he was before.

"spending time with you at home sure is nice but going on a picnic date with you is something i didnt know i would definitely need after such a long and busy week." he then started peppering your face with damp and sweet kisses, thanking you over and over for arranging this sweet and nice date for the two of you.

when the sun started going west, you two decided that it's time to go home as it's getting darker. by the time you two got home, you both have decided to take a shower together. washing each other's hair, rubbing the sweat off of your backs and playing bubbles, being silly and happy.

cuddles and kisses were brought along as you both decided that it's time for bed. finally letting the sleepiness takes over the both of you, but before that, suguru made a comment.

"you always take good care of me."

"it's because i love you and i care for you, too much."

"it's a rotten work."

"not to me. not when it's you."

"i love you, so damn much. simply having you makes me feel like the luckiest person alive."

"i love you too, suguru. let's rest now, we have a long day ahead tomorrow."

you cupped his cheeks, kissing him gently and tenderly, whispering nice and sweet words to him as he melts in your touch.

you both sure were exhausted for the day, but that doesnt mean you're exhausted of each other. loving getou suguru will never exhaust you, not when he's the one who gives you fuel and energy to keep going.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

hallo~ lately, i've been grossly inlove with this man named Getou Suguru. i cant help but think that he'd be the sweetest and most understanding partner out there. i also think that he'll be sosososo vulnerable around his partner bc he trusts them so much.

also, credits to @/tohruh4rt on tiktok! it's a big thanks to them for insipiring me on making this one! check out their acc and vid!

[yosanomwah]

"Ranpo’s a burnt out gifted kid!!" No. He’s not, not at all.

Gifted kid burnout is when a child that's endowed with above-average abilities becomes exhausted as a result of too much pressure from unrealistic expectations they set for themselves or others place on them. At first glance, i can see how people assume this is Ranpo but really, looking at his character, that’s not at all it.

Ranpo grew up sheltered with only his parents to look for with guidance, once they died he moved away on his own and from there travelled place to place but he was very distressed. Ranpo believed everyone was as smart as he was, because of him growing up sheltered with only his incredibly intelligent parents, Ranpo didn’t believe he was different or special from anyone else, so when he met people who appeared dumber than him, he thought they were acting stupider, this is why he says things like "why are you making me say obvious things?" Because he genuinely thought everyone knew the things he did.

Fukuzawa once asks him "so, you think adults also pick up on things you notice" and he literally reply’s "yeah." Ranpo thought everyone thought like him and knew the things he did. He didn’t know he was gifted

This led to extreme feelings of distress for poor Ranpo, Ranpo didn’t understand why everyone was acting stupider than they were, he didn’t understand why people got mad at him for pointing things out that were meant to be unknown because he thought everyone knew already, this caused him to feel so upset and isolated and alone

"I don’t understand anyone! Why are adults like this? Someone just tell me why!" He screamed. "I don’t understand what anyone’s thinking! Im scared! It feels like I’m surrounded by monsters! It doesn’t matter what I say, nobody understands me!"

Fukuzawa explains how Ranpo’s outburst didn’t come from nowhere and the doubt and stress had clearly been swelling in Ranpo for the longest time.

These are not the feelings of a gifted kid. Ranpo is not a gifted kid and it’s really honestly offensive to narrow his character down to that, he cannot be labelled with such labels as he’s so unique from most others.

Ranpo felt isolated and lost because he didn’t understand why anyone was acting that way. He didn’t know he was smart or special, he thought everyone was and he didn’t get why they were acting like they weren’t. A gifted kid doesn’t feel like that.

Then, we go on to when Ranpo gets told he is a skill user. Fukuzawa does this because Ranpo feels so lost and he’s so in denial about being special because he doesn’t get why he’d be any different from other people- so Fukuzawa says he has an ability

And this finally makes sense to Ranpo, he’s not different from other people by mind, he just has a power they don’t. So finally he has an explanation and he takes it, clinging on to it and finally feeling free from his previous worries.

Fukuzawa tells him that everyone else is a fool. The world is full of fools who don’t know hos to look at things. The reason he says this is because Ranpo previously thought everyone in the world hated him and that’s why they did things, because they were manipulative and rude, but really they were just stupid and didn’t know what they were doing. And Ranpo needed to hear this because he assumed otherwise

"So that’s why.

Nobody hates me."

"Nobody hates you."

This was the explanation he needed, others were fools because they didn’t have his powers, they didn’t think like he did because humans didn’t think, only those with powers could. The non-powered didn’t think how the powered did, they weren’t targeting Ranpo and purposefully acting stupid around him to isolate him. That’s just how they were

Or as Fukuzawa said: "They’re babies who can’t even hold up their own heads. Do you think babies have others? Do you think they would try to confuse someone to trick them?"

And Ranpo held onto Fukuzawa's words, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. So he held onto this idea, that the reason everyone was like that was because they were fools and the reason Ranpo was not a fool was because of his powers. And so he ran with it.

"Everyone else isn’t a monster. They’re just stupider than you."

He immediately took up the title of "worlds greatest detective" and vowed to solve everything for the fools of the world who couldn’t do it for themselves. He vowed to help them.

He realised the world wasn’t evil, it was simple and stupid. There wasn’t hidden intentions behind everyone’s actions, they were just simple and stupid.

"I’m the one who protects the foolish!!" And so he took up this job for him, the job of protecting others because he had skills they didn’t. Again, this is not the feelings of a gifted kid.

Ranpo felt disconnected, alone and confused, not because he was smarter than others but because he was different and he didn’t even know it. He thought everyone hated him and was against him and trying to deceive and hurt him. He was gifted yes but never burnt out

[tinyperson00]

Art block is hitting hard

Yea week 2 with art block now-

idk what to do 😭

Also not feeling very great today.. I had tests all week including PSAT today

Ive just been so burnt out 😭😔

And along with that a certain person decided to text me again and succeed in making me feel like the most worthless human being once again..

Last thing that was said to me before I finally had enough and just blocked them was, "You don't care about anyone or anything anymore. Your just heartless" I guess Im just rude, annoying, mean, heartless, and completely changed from who I was. ..

Sorry for the small vent

Ill try to get some drawings done but idk when honestly. Im just so exhausted lately

Ty for all my wonderful moots and followers tho for making me feel a bit better as well 🥺💗

[chuuyascumsock]

hey snookums 😋

how are you? i hope youre being the baddest bitch that ever bitched out there. i know you're definitely an amazing person to interact w :D

i know i said that burnout was gone but like... summer blues, i dont know- does anyone else get that? T-T

BUT i'm going to try coming back more bc i miss you and my other moots :')

im trying to write things OTHER than comfort but like... idk how.

Anygays, i love the small drabbles you've been doing!! they're healing my soul fr. and i remember the first drabble of yours that made me in absolute awe of you my dear.

IT WAS THE MECHANIC! CHUUYA ONE- GENUINELY ITS SUCH A MASTERPIECE AND DROVE ME CRAZY 🥰

so thats when i started religiously becoming your #1 fan def.

(also i kind of want to rant to someone but at the same time i dont bc its just random but also i dont want to put my stuff on anyone else you know? because everyone has their own stuff to deal with and it would be horrible to add onto anyone else's stuff)

im doing great (real)

sorry this was a dump kind of T-T i love interacting w you, makes me so happy knowing i get to interact w someone i respect and admire a lot!!!

with love

sugar tits

Hey Pookie <33

I’m doing pretty good, I’ve been writing Drabbles as of lately to keep the babes at bay as I work on my fics. I felt bad for not giving anyone anything to hold over on because I was working a bunch (which I got my hours fixed, but it burnt me out to the point I went nonverbal for awhile because I was so exhausted mentally interacting with customers all day— who don’t read the “be nice to our employees” signs btw so there’s some assholes for sure and I have to be nice even though I want to tell them to suck a dick 😭). But since I’m feeling a little better, I’m trying to give you guys something at least. (I also plan to draw a pride picture with my insert, Fem Chuuya, and Fem Dazai in honor of the lesbians because we love women 😩).

Anyways, if you’re having trouble wanting to write things, you could always brainstorm with me, I don’t mind. I find that I have a ton of ideas that I don’t put to use, so I wouldn’t mind sharing them and I’d love to see them in someone’s writing (only if you want to though <33).

Also, I loooove, love, love— when you guys like my writing at all, it really boosts how I feel about my own writing. I get scared to post something sometimes because I don’t think that it’s good enough for you guys, so it’s a relief when you guys do 🫶

If you need anyone to rant to, I’ll be here btw, the second thing I love most is hearing about people’s problems or getting to know all about them. If I wasn’t an art major, psychology was going to be my next pick and I would be a therapist. I only chose art major because interior designers make bank where I live and I like decorating, so :]

Thank you for the ramble, my dear, I hope you have a nice day ❤️

[curiosity-killed]

Ooh, t'challasam and Sirion from your OW?

:D im impressed and mildly horrified you scrolled that far!

t'challasam — originally part of my "pessimistic avengers" series that i mostly wrote to cope with my dislike of CACW lol I don't really remember where I was going with it except that Wanda and Sam had apparently been on the run together post-airport fisticuffs and Steve sent them a jet to take to Wakanda....??? unclear what the vision was

“Fine,” he says. “Saying it isn’t Tony – which we don’t know – why should we trust it?” Wanda finally looks up at him, and he wishes she hadn’t. Eighteen months on the run hasn’t been kind to either of them. Her eyes are dull and exhausted. “I am done being a rat in the sewers,” she spits. He doesn’t flinch, but it’s close. Without Steve, leadership fell to Sam, but there isn’t much left to lead. Just him and Wanda, struggling from country to country with the leftover Avengers on their asses. The only reason they haven’t been caught, Sam’s sure, is because the Avengers don’t really care. Every player on the field is burnt out, fried to a crisp from the toll of being put through the wringer again and again and again. There isn’t a drop of anything but exhaustion in them.

and a random wild Sirion we're going with the most recent bc the others are too outdated to post lol this one is mostly just a free write noodling on Jemma and Sirion's parallels/contrasts in the specific context of coming from like. working/middle class backgrounds and marrying into nobility/royalty.

He pressed his lips together, a seed of bitterness tightening in his chest. “Because royal heirs don’t fall for the sons of weavers and blacksmiths?” he replied briskly. Jemma tilted her head slightly. Her lips sealed into a seam and she let out a slow breath through her nose. “They aren’t like us, you know,” she said, undaunted despite her irritation. “The expectations, the rules—they can love you and it will not make it easier.” He stared at her, struggling to find words around his growing frustration. When had he ever suggested he needed things to be easy? He had worked harder than half the Socorán to rise through the ranks, had trained harder and worked longer shifts, had clawed his way out of the muddy shallows of the Haent while still bleeding from the wounds of the ambush. He wasn’t going to fall apart now.

send me a wip name + i'll share a bit

[moonrkgk]

i went and counted at like 2/3 rds of the commissions ive posted since the start of the pandemic and there is no wonder why i am so burnt out and tired.

this is only counting most of what i posted publically, not privately and i didnt include all of the ones that i didnt see the names of at a glance to add to a list but-

just since like may of 2020 ive done at least 200-250 commissions. trying to account for things like stream commissions or things i didnt actually post publically or were anon/DNP, that number might be upwards of 300.

Im just saying but like, looking at that, i feel a lot less bad about why my art might be stagnating; quality wise. but it comes full circle when i think about how much debt im still in and that i can barely pay my bills and my mental health has NEVER been worse.

im so exhausted bro lmfao. most industry artists usually take a 30 hr project they break up over 2-3 months. A SINGLE PROJECT. I try to do a 30 hr project in a matter of days and charge 1/10th the price. its not viable.

i dont mean to rant (i totally do) because i still enjoy my job i just wish i could catch a break or smthn. DONT MAKE ME TAP THE CHART.

the chart in question. oopsiesss

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tiny announcement (slightly inconvenient news)

im updating my fandom list today, and im no longer going to write requests for honkai star rail

why?

because i don't like writing for it as much. love the game, just don't really like writing the same fandom several times unless i really enjoy it. i don't really have much motivation for writing hsr. and i've been thinking over this a lot and nothing really clicks for me when i write it anymore. i love writing requests but i'm kind of exhausted writing mostly child! readers for it.

what will happen to the current requests?

i will not be writing them, not like i wrote much of them anyways. so i'm sorry to those who have been waiting so patiently. you don't deserve to have your requests ignored like this but i'm simply burnt out from writing mostly hsr fics.

will you write for it again someday?

for myself and my enjoyment? yes. as a request? not likely but not impossible. i loved getting a lot of requests for familial fics but after a while i was not enjoying it. because none of my work felt like i wrote it. i don't know how to describe it but i was not satisfied most of the time. and i got bored. so, mostly no.

obviously i'm not gonna delete the fics i have now for hsr but i won't write any new hsr fics anytime soon. but if i do, it's purely for my enjoyment.

[afaramir]

hi abby!!! for the fic writer asks: 1, 4, 19, 28? :)

hii anna thank you!!! <3 sorry this took me AGES to do these last two weeks have been simply. exhausting. yeah it’s monday. gonna send you more in a moment to make up for it LOL

1. the last sentence you wrote

“come,” says aragorn, “i may not have the sort of supper master samwise is certainly cooking up, but i hope a different secret will suffice.”

they're hanging out....🥺

4. a story idea you haven't written yet

sooo many...hmm ok what’s plaguing my brain right now that i have no like Zero words on the page for. probably the faramir and gandalf and denethor's death fic. i think about it...frequently. there's a longer post about this somewhere but i just think that faramir and denethor's complicated relationship should get to affect faramir and gandalf's less complicated relationship for the worse <3 what do you even do when you have no one left to blame for the death your father drove himself to and you find out that YOUR mentor saved YOU and then stood by and watched as he burnt himself alive. WHAT DO YOU DO!!!! it plagues me.

19. the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic

i feel like i never end up in particular like….idk. historical rabbit holes like i see some people go into for some reason? actually i know the reason and its if i really let myself get into it id never get anything done. i’ve already been seeing that with rivendell au. and most things i write are so…nebulously atmospheric. that i don’t necessarily need to get the details exactly right. but i guess the one that pops out in my brain is when i ended up on the wikipedia page for “forlorn hope” which is a REAL MILITARY TERM for a sacrificial vanguard. THEY REALLY CALL IT THAT. i think about this all the time.

28. your least favourite part of the writing process

ugh the one im in right now. where im kind of lost in the weeds and muddling through a section (usually the end / some sort of a transition. im awful at those) and it kind of feels like everything is bad and i don’t know what i’m writing about anymore. i find it so hard to step back and get the bigger picture because it feels like it doesn't actually help me put any more damn words on the page. but that is just my brain lying to me.

fic writer's asks