#yappin so many questions

[casimirnoctis]

"So, we're only to wield it under the grace of this One God?" The arguments that contradicted would often make him chuckle, but Casimir was reserved when in the sect of the One this cleric upheld. As much as the dhampir wished to laugh in the face of belief and religious tyranny, he understood when to be quiet and clutch to a sense of indifferent curiosity. "My power is born from darkness, something you'd likely call an aggrieved gift from the Dark One which must be contained," his head canted to the side, "Am I to give up all that I am to be in your clergy?" The porcelain expanse of his smile pulled through the darkness; not a threat, just an expression which simply was.

"For what I know, he lives still, yes," the smile grows on the exiled heir's expression, "Does that trouble or pacify you?"

Nikandros's tongue could only get him so far in a domain that would outright protest his presence - or try to subjugate him as the Iskarans had. "My guard, at least, wouldn't make it easy for them." The crusader who was rarely far from Nik's step wasn't as devout as the Light would hope, but he was loyal and strong.

"What do we have if we don't have resolve?" Faith worked in the same manner of character, "I have seen firsthand the scars that arcana can inflict when left unchecked, with a friend who will carry the brunt of that damage for the rest of his days." Eivor's body was a battleground of what witchkind had done to him, there were lines that were not meant to be crossed, and Nikandros would see the world pulled back before it plunged itself into the Dark One's waiting embrace. "Every whisper that leads a witch toward the pursuit of power is the voice of the Dark, bringing them closer to Him."

"This crusader you met, does he still draw breath?"

[fursuitparade]

im conflicted on what to do for toybox's eyes. Like im not a good painter because i dont do it enough and my hands are super shaky and i dony wanna screw up on the mesh. Maybe i just commission someone to do a digital transfer???? That seems easiest but also.. money..

I also decided that i wanna do magnetic eyelids and hair tuft for them, so i may have to re-tape the head if i cant just add them on after taking the pattern off. I dont see why itd be a problem but i dunno. I'll also have to figure out if i can line the head and HOW to do it 💔

[azzibueckers5]

chapter 1: i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song)

(ao3 link)

azzi realizes (with some gentle prodding) midway through her rookie wnba season that maybe she and paige were more than best friends and she just didn't know it. except they haven't really talked in more than a year. cue a mini crashout and some major life re-evaluation. and a lot of wine. (wc: ~5k)

chapter 1: in which azzi discovers the dangers of combining wine, well-meaning but invasive questions from friends, and the call feature on her iphone

AN: um hi hello! this is my first ever published fic so please be kind 🙏🏻i'll try and shorten the manifesto authors note i have in ao3, but basically this is just meant to be a silly little story! i don't think this is canon in any way i just really like angsty gays being stupid, so. this would theoretically be during azzi’s rookie season (so summer 2026) and operates under a reality in which p+a are very much not together and were never messing around, so make some mental edits to the pazzi timeline if you so please. i hope you enjoy this little labor of love ❤︎

it starts, as many things do, with dinner and one too many glasses of wine for azzi. she and a few teammates had decided to have a girls' night- a real girls' night, as aaliyah had called it, meaning dinner at a nice, secluded cocktail bar downtown during their few days off. they were grown ups now, or at least pretending to be, and what better way to celebrate getting through half of the season than by getting wine drunk and munching on slightly overpriced hors d'oeuvres. 

they’re mostly through their food at this point, which is to say, pleasantly tipsy, maybe even teetering on the edge of drunk, and azzi leans back into the booth with a contented sigh, lazily sipping on the remaining wine in her glass. 

kiki and georgia are discussing kiki’s new boyfriend, and azzi is only half paying attention, finding the buzz in her system making it difficult to really enjoy hearing the phrase “ i’m just so in love with him ” for the third time in the last five minutes. 

georgia is amused though, and azzi lets her handle it, up until georgia turns to her and asks, “what about you, fudd? got anything going on over there? any new suitors?” 

azzi rolls her eyes, sighing. “no ma’am. answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked it.”

it should bother her, really, how little action she gets, how uninterested in casual dating she’s been. but she’s content, for the most part, with her friends and her family and the occasional one night stand. sometimes it feels like her friends are more invested in her dating life than she is.

“come onnnn, when’s the last time you dated someone,” kiki pipes up, and azzi thinks here we go again.  

“bro i don’t know. the whole dating and boys thing isn’t for me, okay,” she whines, and even though that’s the truth, dating has never been something azzi cared about, the words feel a little sour on her tongue. 

she glances at aaliyah, who’s looking at her curiously. 

“what?” she asks, at her imploring gaze. the wine is making her bolder, more inclined to be blunt about her disinterest in boys, and she thought aaliyah kind of understood that about her, anyways.

aaliyah opens her mouth, as if to say something, and then closes it, and azzi feels herself flush a little bit, though she doesn’t really know why. aaliyah is looking at her like she can’t quite figure something out, and it unnerves her. 

azzi squirms, and repeats “no really, what? now you have to tell me.” its followed by a chorus of agreement from the other two girls, and aaliyah sighs. 

“how many times have you been in love? we got kiki over here yappin’ about her second guy of the year and yet i’ve never heard you interested in a guy for more than a week.” she says it like she’s trying to clue azzi in on something, yet all she can focus on is the first part of the question. and she’s embarrassed . 

she flushes, and tries to ignore the anxiety that her biggest insecurity raises to the surface, steeling herself for her answer. her limited dating experience has never been embarrassing, because she’d always been a busy athlete and could brush it off as something she never had time for. but being 23 and never having been in love was secretly something that kept her up at night. 

the wine makes her bold, though, so she lifts her head and mumbles out a quick “i’ve never- i’ve never been in love.” 

the table is silent for a brief second, her words sinking in, but instead of shock or judgement gazing back at her, azzi is met with confusion and almost amusement . 

kiki is the first one to speak up. “well we know that's not true.” her tone is playful, as if azzi is kidding.

azzi stares at her blankly. “what d’you mean?” she laughs a little at their disbelieving looks, and then adds, “don’t rub it in. it's not exactly something i’m proud of.”

still, she’s met with unnerving eyes. finally, aaliyah blurts out “i mean. we know you and paige…” she trails off without finishing, but the damage is done.

“what the fuck are you guys on about?” she immediately says in response, half laughing, trying to lessen the tension. she ignores the way the unexpected mention of paige cuts at her heart. they haven’t spoken in, god, probably two or three months at this point, and the reminder twists something ugly in her chest as she waits for what promises to be a weird joke that falls flat. 

all three faces peering back at her seem entirely humorless though, and azzi starts to get the idea that she’s missing some sort of crucial piece of information. “i wasn’t in love with paige,” she gets out, ignoring the way her voice catches on the name.

aaliyah’s face softens. “we don’t have to talk about it of you don’t want to but… you don’t have to hide that from us, azzi.” 

she splutters in response. “you guys don’t actually think that-” but the look on their faces belays that, in fact, all three of them somehow think that azzi was in love with paige.

 “guys. come on. that was just some weird internet theory. paige and i were just best friends.” she’s defensive now, because what the fuck is going on. 

her pulse is buzzing under her skin, no longer from just the wine, and she suddenly feels like the restaurant around them is really quiet, and everyone is listening in on this conversation. the ac must not be working properly either, because she’s sweating, legs sticking to the leather of the seat below her. 

georgia, graciously, breaks the silence, but the relief is short lived when azzi hears the nonsense that comes out of her mouth. 

“azzi, come on, i wasn’t even with you guys at uconn and i know you were more than friends. you don’t gotta pretend in front of us.”

and then kiki is chiming in with “i mean everybody kinda knew it…” and azzi feels like god is playing some kind of twisted prank on her. 

she turns back to aaliyah, hoping she can defend azzi, except her face looks a little horrified. like she’s realizing that in fact azzi wasn’t aware that everyone thought they were more than friends. she looks for support anyways, knowing that aaliyah had seen them at uconn, had understood that they were just intensely codependent and not dating, for the love of god. 

“c’mon, tell them we were just friends,” she pleads to the older girl, expecting back up on at least this. 

“azzi…” she trails off, and azzi can only gape at all of them. “i mean, you guys were attached at the hip. you had sleepovers like 4 times a week…” she trails off, and azzi realizes three things in quick succession. 

one, aaliyah thought her and paige had been actually, truly dating, or hooking up, or something. two, this means that probably multiple other people on the team also thought they were something. and three, if kiki and georgia also thought that… somehow azzi had missed the memo that not only did random fans on the internet think they’d been in love, but that everyone had. she feels like she’s going to throw up. 

“you guys are wrong. we were just best friends,” she says, with as much conviction as she can muster, and it is the truth, even though her audience is making it feel like a lie. they had been just best friends, truly, except . 

except the one night azzi can’t remember , after the championship, when she’d woken up in paige’s hotel room with a blinding hangover and spotty memory. that in itself hadn’t been weird, but the mark on her collarbone had been new, and the way paige wouldn’t meet her eyes had been different, and, and. azzi shuts down the thoughts of that horrible morning and ensuing weeks.

she blinks back into the restaurant to look at her teammates, and she sees the dawning realization on their faces that she’s telling the truth, or most of it anyway, and they all look, well, a little shell-shocked.  

she asks for clarification, even though she knows the answer already, “i mean did everyone- did everyone think we were-” she can’t even finish the sentence, and doesn’t need to. She gets three nods immediately, and the playful mood that had existed at their table only minutes before has evaporated into the low lights above them. 

and they’re all wrong, they all have to be wrong, because azzi isn’t even really into girls, and hadn’t been in love with paige, because she would have known. surely she would have known, or at least someone would have mentioned it to her. this feels like a bad dream that she can’t wake up from, because now she can’t stop thinking about paige, and how much she misses her laugh, and the curl of their fingers together, and how they haven’t gone this long without speaking since, well, ever. 

she forcefully shuts down thoughts of the blonde, because she’d been so good at blocking out how much she missed her, and this conversation is just messing with her wine-addled mind. she had not been in love with paige. she just hadn’t been, couldn’t have been. 

“you guys are wrong,” she says, extremely convincingly. because it's true, obviously. and the looks she receives in response are disbelieving, but they seem to understand that this isn’t something azzi wants to get into right now. 

“okay. if you say so,” kiki replies gently, words laced with pity, and azzi hates everything.

she nods, trying to ignore the fact that she kind of feels like crying, and manages to get out an “i do” without her voice cracking. 

aaliyah gives her a long, searching look, before deciding to drop it. mercifully, she begins asking georgia about the date she went on a couple nights before, and the attention shifts. 

for the short rest of the dinner though, azzi is lost in a subtle, wine-induced panic. the girls leave her alone to her thoughts for the most part, seemingly understanding that she doesn’t have much to add, and she sighs in relief when the bill gets paid and the ubers begin to be called. 

outside, the muggy dc air hits her face and does nothing to cool the heat that's been simmering in her veins. as they disperse in front of the restaurant to go their separate ways, aaliyah hesitates for a second before climbing in the car that's awaiting her. “if you ever want to talk about it… you know i’m here right?”

azzi doesn’t have to ask what she means. she nods, and pastes on the most convincing smile she can muster. “i’m fine, really, lili. there's nothing to talk about.”

at her disbelieving look, azzi rolls her eyes. “really. i mean it.” she pauses, and then allows a meek “but i’ll let you know if i change my mind.” 

aaliyah hums, and reaches out to squeeze her hand, before finally climbing into her car. “if you say so, fudd. g’night. love you. i'll see you at practice.”

“'night. love you too,” she responds, and shuts the door gently, before looking up and searching for her own uber. 

the drive home is spent staring out the window trying not to cry. and it doesn’t make sense, she wasn’t in love with paige, but for some reason, out of all the times she’d ever been accused of dating paige, this one has rattled her the most. 

she’d always thought that the rumors had been kind of funny, in a ridiculous, distant way, and though they’d stopped joking about them as they’d gotten more intense in the later parts of their friendship, azzi had always thought that paige kind of thought they were amusing too. 

except, now that she really thinks about it, she’d stopped joking about the speculation because it used to make paige fidgety. and azzi had always thought it had just been because the rumors were so rampant, that it was awkward because they were so wrong, but now this stupid dinner and the stupid wine is making her not so sure. 

but no. she knows she wasn’t in love with paige. because. because she would have known. 

her mind feels like it's going at a million miles a minute, flashes of paige’s smile and the way her head would always come to rest on azzi’s shoulder, and how safe she’d always felt next to paige, and-

her impending anxiety attack is put on pause when the car gets to her building, and as she thanks the driver and heads up into the elevators, she tries to reassure herself that it's just the wine, and the surprise information that it hadn’t just been strangers thinking they were together, but friends, close friends , too. 

and it's already late, but when she is finally engulfed by the silence of her apartment, azzi does the only thing that she thinks will bring her any sense of clarity and drags her phone out of her purse.  

katie picks up on the second ring (she ignores the part of her that’s first instinct is still to call paige when anything is wrong because god fucking damn it ), and azzi feels moderately better at her mom’s familiar “hello” on the other side of the line.

“hi,” is the only thing she can come up with in response, and she mentally curses her vocal cords for breaking on the singular word. so much for not revealing to her mother that she’s upset. 

“azzi honey, are you okay?” comes the response, gentle with concern. and she is, she is okay except she kind of feels like the rug has been ripped out from under her, and she just needs her mom to tell her that everyone else is crazy. 

“i’m fine, i’m okay,” she releases, but that feels like a lie so she continues. “can i- can i ask you a question? and you can’t. you can’t laugh or think it's stupid or whatever.”

katie hums in confusion on the other side of the line, and azzi just needs to say it before she loses the confidence of the wine sliding through her system.

“did you ever- did you ever think i was in love with paige?”

from the strangled sound on the other side of the phone, it's clearly not what she expected azzi to ask. 

“azzi. sweetheart. did you- were you not?” and that. that gets her to finally shed the tears that have been brewing since dinner. 

her panicked “no!” sounds a lot less convincing than she intends it to be, and she doesn’t- she doesn’t understand what the fuck going on. 

katie’s voice is gentle when she continues, understanding the fragility of the moment (and azzi’s sanity ) and she states quietly, “i mean. i always thought the two of you were a little bit in love with each other. less so when you were younger, but. azzi . i mean, you guys lived out of eachothers pockets for years. i always kind of thought you guys were more than friends.” her words are soft, like she knows azzi can’t handle anything else, but they still pierce her heart like knives against a target.

and what the fuck ever. 

she’s really crying now, though she’s trying to keep it quiet and preserve the barest amount of pride she has left. it's just. everything everyone is saying isn’t making any sense because it's impossible to be in love with someone without knowing it. 

and yet, here azzi is, on the phone with her mother and maybe possibly coming to the realization that maybe she and paige weren’t exactly the most platonic of friends and it's at least a year too late. and then that last thought hits her square in the chest: the fact that she and paige haven’t been alone in the same room together in over a year, haven’t called in maybe longer, that it very well might be too late, and then her tears aren’t so silent anymore. 

she lets out a sob over the phone and her mom’s voice sounds worried when she says “oh, azzi. we thought you guys broke up last year. you never wanted to talk about what happened and we just assumed you were dating in secret and something happened. you’re telling me you weren’t- you never…”

she cuts her mom off with another “no!” and this really might be the worst thing that’s ever happened, because her mom thought they were dating. and then, because she needs to know for sure she asks again, voice thick with tears “so you think. you think that i was in love with paige?” 

there’s silence on the other side of the phone for a second, as katie processes how to respond. and then her mom must hate her or something because all she says in response is “honey, only you can answer that question. but i think that if you’re asking me, then you already know.” 

and, well, she’s right. and isn’t that just fucking awesome.

after hanging up on her mother and swearing up and down that she’ll call tomorrow when she’s more calm and coherent and not losing her fucking mind , azzi takes a long, still slightly tipsy shower. 

she thinks of paige six different times in the span of twenty minutes and contemplates slamming her head against the tile walls. 

it’s as if aaliyah had uncovered this part of azzi’s brain that had been locked away, unbeknownst to her, and now that it was released it was determined to wreak as much havoc as possible. 

she knows she won’t be able to sleep right away, the buzz of adrenaline, alcohol, and unexplored feelings too potent to let her rest, so she does probably the dumbest thing she can think of and grabs a bottle of wine and the blanket that paige bought her when she was 17 and plants herself on the couch. she figures she deserves the pinot something-or-other that someone had gifted her when she’d had her little housewarming party in the spring. 

and then she’s reminded of said party, and the last minute invite she’d sent to paige as a peace offering, as a plea for normalcy. the older girl had been in the area, azzi knows because drew had mentioned it to her brothers, and she hadn’t exactly expected paige to show up and be normal, relaxed and funny paige, azzi’s paige, but she also hadn’t expected the text saying she couldn’t come with a half hearted excuse. 

that had been the nail in the coffin for azzi, the sign that she should stop trying. because as much as the unanswered texts and awkward interactions after uconn visits and stilted hugs after team trips to watch the wings had hurt, the realisation that paige had decided not to be there for azzi on a night that was supposed to be a celebration of her accomplishments had made her understand how wide the gap between them had really grown. paige had never chosen not to be there for azzi. 

and now she’s beginning to understand that it had been heartbreak, in its truest form, that had settled into her bones that day, not merely disappointment. she’d cried in the bathroom at her own party, briefly, when she’d realized that paige wasn’t coming, and. 

and so many things about their relationship are starting to make sense. 

the way they’d told each other everything except anything to do with love interests or hookups because it was an unspoken rule between them that the other didn’t want to know. the way azzi had been completely comfortable with nudity in front of teammates except around paige, always turning around when the blonde was changing and vice versa. the way they didn’t gone more than a couple hours without communicating unless one of them was asleep for like. eight years. the way paige had slotted so seamlessly into her life that she’d felt like family, except the word sister had never seemed like an appropriate word for what they were to each other.

and then. and then azzi is suddenly angry. angry at herself for not figuring this out sooner. angry at her friends for never informing her that she was in love with her best friend. and most importantly, she was fucking furious at paige. because the more she thinks back at their relationship, and the good and the bad, the more she realizes that paige had to have known. she’s struck with the thought that paige had probably been in love with her too, but instead of comfort, all azzi can feel is the grief of losing her before they were ever even something more, and the fury at paige for letting them fall apart . 

because it had been paige that had stopped responding to text messages. paige who had subtly put a stop to any and all physical contact that azzi had tried to instigate. and it had been paige who had started and ended their dizzying, agonizing conversation about the championship night. 

azzi knows she’d fucked up by refusing to aknowledge the fact that they had definitely kissed, definitely more than kissed that night. except it had been hazy. she couldn’t remember the details of how they’d gotten from the after party in the hotel to paige's room. she couldn’t remember what they’d said or done or even what the time frame of that night had looked like. she only remembered blurry snapshots of paige’s mouth against hers, and the feeling of her hands tangling in the blonde’s hair, and the proof, stark against her chest, that paige's mouth had moved lower and meant it.

and then azzi hadn’t acknowledged it the next morning, because what on earth do you say when you’re pretty sure you made out with your best friend of eight years but you can’t actually remember. and paige had been in a horrible mood, and they’d fought, like they never did, about something entirely unrelated, and azzi had been blindsided, like she was missing something throughout the entire argument. 

and now. azzi is starting to understand that it hadn’t been that paige didn’t care when she’d put distance between them, flitting off to the league and leaving calls and texts unanswered, but that she’d cared too much. 

still, this doesn’t make azzi feel better, and she’s pissed. because how very dare paige fuck off without telling azzi that they’d been in love, and leave her to think that paige hadn’t needed her. 

she must be drunker than she thought she was, because suddenly her anger boils over and she’s doing probably the stupidest thing she possibly could, which is picking up her phone and dialing the number still pinned at the top of her contacts list. 

its late now, like beyond a reasonable time to be calling anyone, let alone your ex best friend who you don’t speak to anymore, but somewhere in azzi’s hazy mind she knows that paige is an hour behind and that she always picks up the phone for azzi. 

it rings four times, and each one causes her heartbeat to pick up even faster, and azzi doesn’t know what would be worse, paige answering or paige not. (she does know. it's not the former)

and then the line clicks midway through the fifth ring and paige says “azzi?” and azzi hears her voice for the first time in months, since they played each other in may and could barely look at eachother, and all the fight and anger that was simmering in her blood seems to disappear at how broken her name sounds coming from paige’s lips. 

she can only muster up a strangled “hi” into the phone, really eloquent, azzi, great job , and she realizes when she says it that she’s crying again because she sounds like she’s crying , and isn’t that just perfect. 

immediately, azzi can sense the shift in paige’s energy over the phone as her voice rings out in a worried “azzi? are you okay?” and azzi has forgotten entirely why she called in the first place or what to say.

“no, yeah, m’fine,” she answers, but she know she doesn’t sound convincing, and wow, okay, this pinot something-or-other must be like, at least 15% because azzi then blurts out a pitiful “m’just drunk and i miss you.”

paige exhales sharply into the phone, the ensuing silence deafening, and azzi feels humiliation curl in her gut, regretting everything between the day she was born and now that has led her to this moment. 

but then paige says, weakly, her voice slightly muffled over the distance, “i miss you too, az. so much.” 

she expects to feel relief at the words, the knowledge that paige misses her too, probably just as much, but it’s only a reminder to azzi of how badly they’ve fucked everything up. 

and then she suddenly remembers that they have an away game in dallas, in only a week or so, and she really needs to get a grip but instead she hears herself speaking again, before she can process the words. “when i’m in dallas next week, can we maybe-”

she’s cut off by a woman’s voice in the background, on the other end of the phone, asking, “paige? are you still staying over?” 

azzi feels like she’s been thrown off the side of a mountain. 

or rather she wishes she was thrown off the side of a mountain because that probably feels better than the absolute devastation currently coursing out from her heart and into her bloodstream and clogging her lungs. 

she makes a choked off sound in the back of her throat, just as paige stammers out an uneven “can you give me a second?” her voice sounds distant, because it's not meant for azzi, and for the second time in the span of a minute, azzi regrets being born at all. 

she hears movement through the phoneline, imagining paige moving through this unknown woman’s house, and fuck, why hadn’t she considered this? that paige had moved on? here azzi was, finally figuring out her shit, and calling paige in the middle of the night like some desperate ex-something and paige might have had a whole girlfriend. 

azzi feels bile rise in her throat. 

somehow, she musters up the courage to croak out “no paige, it's okay. you go. i’m sorry for calling so la-”

“no, no, azzi, it’s fine, it's never too late for you,” and. well. that might just be the fucking joke of the century.  

“no, really paige, it's okay. i need to sleep too.”

there’s resigned silence between them for a second, and azzi thinks paige is going to simply hang up, and then the older girl whispers “were you gonna ask to hang out? in- in dallas?”

azzi’s “yes” is embarrassingly quick to tumble from her lips. 

paige lets out a quiet laugh, and it's brief and small, and really probably more of an amused exhale through her nose than anything else, but she laughs, and azzi feels the twisted fluttering of hope bloom in her chest, despite herself.

“okay. text me tomorrow, then. if you really want to do something.” there's a challenge in paige’s words, like she doesn’t think azzi will, and that stings, a little, but she tries not to let it. 

“i will. i promise.” a pause, and then when the other girl says nothing, “g’night paige,” she whispers, and she means that promise. she knows she’s drunk, and she guesses there might have been a similar exchange all those horrible months ago, hence paige’s quiet mistrust, but she knows in her bones that she’ll remember this tomorrow, that she’ll want to see paige.

“goodnight, azzi. sweet dreams.” and then, the dial tone. 

in the silence of the room, masochistically, azzi realizes that that’s the first time they’ve hung up the phone without saying i love you since they were fifteen. the irony is not lost on her. 

she falls asleep that night curled up into a ball, cheeks wet and the blanket paige got her still tucked around her feet.

AN: ummm thank you for reading! and please tell me how you liked if you so please! i am a people pleaser to my core so it might make me write faster. there should only be one more part and i'm about halfway done writing it! i hope this inspires you freaks to post stuff on ao3 bc it is NEEDED. xoxoxoxo

update: chapter 2

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hi, could I ask for whitebeard pirates with a female reader that’s kind of like Yor Forger from Spy x Family? Socially awkward and aloof, has poor cooking skills(Poor Thatch having to not throw up to hurt reader’s feelings) but is super strong and polite!!

Little Brothers Beware (Whitebeard pirates x sister! reader)

A/N It's been a but since I saw spy x family so l may be rusty, I know it's not exactly her characterization but similar and hopefully close enough for you!

Reader here is Replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

"I messed it up again, didn't I?" Dokucha sniffled, watching Thatch's face grow more more sickly as he try to down the food.

"Good Job, Thatch. You made our sister cry," Izou drawled, watching the scene before him leaning into the dining table and against his closed fist and a slight smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold.

"How despicable of you," Haruta snickered

"Quit with the yappin’, you idiots!" he sneered, glaring at his brothers.

"Ah, Dokucha, don't cry. It wasn’ that bad, it just had too much spieces," he fusses, turning to her

"It's okay. We both know I am no good in the kitchen," she sighed.

"Or the med bay," Marco called as he walked behind them.

"Or the med bay..." she mutters

"I'm sorry I have failed you as a sister!" she cried, hugging him.

"Look at you, Thatch, making a lady cry again," laughed Izou next to him with a similar mischievous grin.

"Hush ya gettin’ on my last nerve," he growls, snapping his head to them only to turn it right back at the sobs of his sister.

"You could never fail me, Dokucha; yer the best sister I could ever ask for!" He exclaims, rubbing her back in a reassuring manner

"You mean it?"

"He's a liar, Dokucha," Calls Izou

"You're lying to me?" Dokucha questioned, looking up at Thatch, a tremble on her lips

"N-No course not, they are just spouting nonsense."

"That's not what you said with her last dis-.

"Hey, Dokucha, did they ever tell you about the time Izou and Haruta went at it?" Thatch spoke promptly, cutting him off watching with a satisfied grin as her sobs stop at the news

"You were fighting?" she growled as she turned around slowly, glaring at the two commanders, who had wiped their smiles from their faces as they shook their heads

"Of Course not, Big sis; we were only training right Izou?" Haruta called nervously at the haunting glare the woman was sending the pair

"Yes, we were to be sent to an important mission, so we figured some training before leaving would do us good."

Thatch threw them a grin as he leaned over Dokucha's ear, whispering in her ear loud enough for the two to hear.

"Ahh heard they were callin’ each other quite colorful names, and that Marco had too patch up a couple injuries," he spoke with a smirk as he glanced at them.

"You know what? I believe that was Haruta; he was quite angry that morning," Izou commented.

"You traitor!" Haruta hissed

"Haruta..." Dokucha growled, glaring at the man

"Y-yes?"

"How many times have I told you not to fight with your brothers?" she snarled, slowly approaching the man who by now had shot out of the stool he sat on in favor of backing away from her.

"Come on, dokucha, it was just playful banter."

"Banter was it? I guess if you have enough energy to fight with your brothers, then you have energy for a training session with me."

"That's really not necessary."

"I insist, little brother," She chirps, throwing a dark grin his way as she drags Haruta off to the training ground.

"I'll get you assholes back for this!" He screamed back to the snickering men on the kitchen

"Oh-ho, you really do have energy. I'm sure you can do an extra long session then!"

"Wait, no, sis, I didn't mean that!" he wails.

Marco sighed, shaking his head as he drank his tea, looking at the other two disapprovingly.

"She is going to find out, you know; once she finds out you tricked her, she will be furious."

"Oh, come on, Marco, she won't know,I I won't say anything, will you, Izou?" Thatch spoke, glancing at the sniper

"If you remain quiet about me, I will remain quiet about you," he confirmed as they both turned to Marco.

"Leave me out of this," he grumbled, walking out.

"We got dirt on ya too, you know!" Thatch calls with a grin

"Oh? Do remind me, who does your checkups and heals you when you fight amongst each other behind her back or go into dangerous missions, and who keeps silent when you fall ill and don't tell her?" He drawled with a grin hidden behind his cup as he continued walking

"Maybe, let's include Marco in tha silent treaty," Thatch Mutters.

"Agreed"

I just realize it's been a week 🙊 oops? Im also surprised myself I din’t include ace, but ya know the other commanders need some loving too

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[starsillys]

question question for your tamagotchi au would there also be a sam and jade?

YYEAAHHHHHHBGHHH YES YES YES THERE IS SAM AND JADE OFC AUAHAH I had a spesicfic idea at the time when I thoughyt of the au but unfortunately my memory does me horribly and I like. Wracked my brain trying to remember what it was specifically and put off drawing anything until I did (BAD BAD BAD) (SO MUCH INCOHERENT YAPPIN UNDER THE CUT… LIKE SO MUCH IM SORGY)

in the end I think it ended up being like… Kinito being a lil 🤓 ass guy you know a realll computer freak!!!! Actually hacking himself into reality what the flip he just likw. Stole his friends back from a certain somebody’s folder,, using your computer to somehow find himself gaining access to a completely different desktop than your own when you were not giving him attention for like 0.00001 second when they were still being developed and kind of kept them in lil usbs until he could safely upload they consciousness into a safe computer program where they can run around and be silly or until you/he can figure out a way to carry them around portably like you do with him in his tamagotchi. Also the two of them are so fucking scared one minute they were like weee!! Ha hah!! Yayy!! running around in sircles,,, having fun in the puter together before suddenly being transported via some virtual wormhole and into small separate usbs. Have absolutely no idea what’s going on the pooor guys. They don’t even know who Kinito is dude but he does know and there’s so much confusion in their behalf that comes with it bc kinito has known about these guys for so long and has been. PINING for the friendship but they were actually so unaware of this third party member and they’re down right horrified. Straight up got napped.AUGHH a dude so many thoughts I will elaborate more and more as time goes on I am rambling like a crasy person rn I’m so sorry idk if any of this even makes sense I don’t know how the computer programming stuff works

[selfawarecobalt]

fuck it. thunder legion headcannon notes page reveal as i nearly accidentally deleted it last time i tried to update it and its slowly delved into more and more hyper specific madneas with each new addition

*Bixlow is an incredibly picky eater, but Freed will eat just about anything.

*Evergreen stress shops, Freed stress cooks, and Bixlow stress eats. very efficient system. noone cleans. less efficient

*obviously freed takes rules EXTREMELY seriously, but only the ones he agrees with. he does not give a fuck about general laws, but he does care about ones imposed by a figure of authority he respects (not many)

*on that note, hes infamous with the rune knights because they literally cannot apprehend him. the second they blink, hes undone the jutsu shiki and is outta there. they’ve basically given up at this point

*freed has perfected the irish goodbye, and trained the thunder legion in it too. laxus however, is a hopeless case. he’ll just turn around and walk away mid conversation

*thunder legion? ideal blunt rotation. theyre yappin for hours. any weird ass question you think about? freed could probably answer it. evergreen’s your BESTIE who will back you up and die for you on any hill. bixlow becomes the single greatest comedian in a 50 mile radius

*freed and bixlow share an apartment together. evergreen technically has her room in fairy hills but that spare bedroom has enough of her stuff in to be considered hers

*bixlow uses he/it pronouns. he came into my house and told me

*evergreen is a trans woman and came out shortly after meeting freed and bix. one advantage to being such an outsider in the guild meant noone realised she’d transitioned. not many people know, only makarov, laxus & the thunder legion, and elfman. she wouldnt mind other people knowing but it never really came up and what does it matter really. shes still the prettiest

(when she came out to elfman she was extremely nervous about what he’d say (or that hed say something about it being manly) but he excitedly told her that it was “so womanly!”)

*they can all sing to some degree. evergreen still has the “teenaged girl showing off” voice and freed’s is like butter (seriously have you heard junichi suwabe sing? if i wasnt aro id be deeply in love with that man). bixlow, however, actively chooses to sound awful

*echolalia. they ALL have echolalia. its a nightmare sometimes

*evergreen is the single most talented braider in the entire guild

*bixlow is the only one who can correctly portion out pasta. he chooses not to.

*autism

[starluvsx]

★𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

proofread: yeaaa

word count:4k(lol plz send help)

WARNINGS: pt2 of jealous girl, toxic!Chris, smut but like for the plot yk, p in v, dick suckin, unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex kids😁👍), praise and degrading, crying, mentions of possible cheating, reader talks about being insecure, swearing, pet names, reader is def not standing on business.

A/N:here u gooo @urfavstromboli !this is too long holy shit.the smut part was so strange to write bc like I don't really like writing smut but I had to for like the story.also im sorry this took so long to makes started working on it right after pt1 and just forgot it was in my drafts LMAOOOO. also peep the special banner(I couldn't find any good lyrics).ok ill stop yappin and let you read.

𖦹 𖦹

✧SATURDAY

my heart beat sped up as I slammed the door in Chris' face.never being this upset with him in my life. I mean I never really thought he would choose another girl over me.Especially not one that has problems with me for no apparent reason. As I broke down into sobs I pulled out my phone and ironically called Nick, Chris' brother, knowing he would comfort me.

"Hey what's up?Did Chris apologize?" Nick asked through the phone.Once my crying was heard I think he got the hint of what had happened though.

"Can you uh..can you come over please really just... need someone right now."I stifled out as I paced around my living room.too many yet not enough thoughts running through my head.

"yea of course, do you want me to grab anything on the way?"Nick questioned sympathetically. I only responded with a small 'the usual' before we promptly said goodbye and I hung up.

✧NICKS POV

I heard the front door open as I shuffled down the stairs,Chris huffing and puffing as he stepped into my view. "How'd it go?"I asked even though I already knew how it went.I wanted to see if he would lie to me.

"horrible, its not even my fault though, shes acting like an insane bitch and is trying to make me choose between her and ash.fucking stupid.she needs to get over herself." Chris spat out.i was shock at his words about a girl who he used to love so much.the only time he talked about her behind her back was when he was saying how pretty she looked or how kind she way or how funny she could be.all of those feeling were now replaced by cold, rude, bullshit.

"don't talk about her like that, dickhead." I retorted.yes he's my brother and I'll love him no matter what but there is no way I would let him talk about her in such a way.especially when I knew that wasn't what he was like at all.

"what?! How am I the dickhead?" he yelled out as I turned my body to Matt's room in order to ask if he could drive me to y/n's.rolling my eyes and choosing to ignore the boy who had very clearly lost it.

"Can you drive me to y/n's?"I asked while poking my head into Matt's dark room. a small 'yea sure' being the answer as he got up from his desk.walking back into the kitchen area I was met with an angered Chris. God he was acting like such a child.

"don't ignore me,"he slightly shouted. "If I'm really a dick then there must be a reason!" my youngest brother said, looking at me soullessly.

"you literally were flirting with Ashley the other day, didn't  say anything when she insulted your girlfriend, when y/n confronted you about it you don't even care, and then when she asked you to make the very reasonable decision of either her or Ashley you get all pissed and start calling her an insane bitch, so yea I think that makes you a dick."I rambled on frustrated.

Chris didn't say anything before I walked toward the front door.or maybe he was going to but just didn't because of the situation.either way I don't think he really needed to say anything else.as I was getting my shoes on I could faintly hear Matt say "I know your my brother but if you hurt her anymore after today I'll kick your ass." which was followed up by my silence and footsteps towards Chris' room.

Matt huffed as he walked down the stairs and walked out the door to his car with me.Once we got in the car we both sighed deeply. "He's so stupid sometimes."Matt breathed out as he started the car and began to back out of the driveway.

"seriously, also we need to stop by the gas station."I replied.even though I was going to her house in order to comfort her and hopefully make her realize he's not treating her well and that she should just leave I know it would be to no avail.shes a hopeless romantic and there not much I can do about it.

✧YOUR POV

tears sprung out of my eyes like frogs with no hesitation. “Please please please let me get what I want” by deftones playing on my speaker. I looked into the mirror across from my bed as I laid on my side, locking eyes with my own reflection.I slowly picked my body up and now simply sat on my bed.still staring at myself intently.

I found myself simultaneously messing with different parts of my body and face.silently wishing they would morph to look like Ashley.she was perfect.the perfect weight,perfect skin,flawless makeup, model like hair.no wonder why Chris didn't mind her being on top of him.he probably wanted people to think that was his girlfriend.not me.why would anyone wanna be seen with me anyways.

The doorbell ringing for the second time this night broke me out of my thoughts.I slowly brought myself to my feet and dragged myself to the front door.as I opened It I was met with a sympathetic looking Nick holding a gray bag. "hey girl..."he slowly said.

I'm not sure if it was just my brain trying to distract me or what but I couldn't help but notice he had dyed his hair red again. "your hair...its not blonde anymore..."I quietly said.my words making Nick smile

"Yeah I know, just kinda felt like another change, i don't know.do you like it?"he questioned.

"I love it, looks really cool man.''I answered, tired eyes looking at him and realizing he was still outside. "oh shit sorry"I said while moving out of the way. as he stepped into my house I made eye contact with Matt who had most likely been waiting for Nick to go into my house.I waved to him with a small smile as he reciprocated through his car window.

I sighed heavily as I shut the door.remembering what happened earlier. "Okay so I got you red bull, skinny pop, oreos, mints and Lindt chocolate, oh and I got nerds for myself, you can have some though."Nick said once he walked over to my kitchen table, placing the items on said table as he listed them.I don't know how he remembers what I like to eat when I'm sad but this does happen a lot I guess.

I put my head in my hands and let out a deep breath.trying to unwind somehow.a ping was then heard from across the table.i knew it was Nick because my phone had been left upstairs. "Oh God, look who it is."Nick said as he turned his phone to face me. it was Ashley.she had sent him something on snap.

'half swipe it."I said as I made my way around the table, peering over his shoulder to see his screen.

"I don't know how."he responded, panicking.

"Just pull it from the left." I tried to explain.my help wasn't very useful though because he opened it instead. 'Are you mad at me?' read the message "is she fucking stupid.of course your mad at her?"

"She is stupid, that's why she looks like that.im just gonna say no to see what she says."the boy next to me said as he typed out 'no' followed up by 'why would I be mad at you?'.

she immediately opened the message and began typing "wow I'm surprised she opened that fast, probably cause she has no life."I snakily said as we both watched her bitmoji type.

''Oh bc of what happened with y/n the other day. 'she clarified. He was about to start typing again before she beat him to it. 'yk when she was a psycho bitch for no reason' was the next message. "psycho bitch?!oh I'll show her a psycho bitch!"I said as I shot up from my leaned over position on the counter. walking angrily towards my front door.

"y/n you are not going to fight her right now, especially not when you look like that.'' Nick reasoned as he set his phone down. "just forget about her.she's just an irrelevant cunt that has nothing better to do with her life but hate." the red-head said.

he was right.i don't know why I cared what she thought.but when I really think about it,I don't.i couldn't give less then a fuck about how she saw me.it was Chris' opinion I cared about.i wanted him to think I was beautiful, funny and kind.i wanted him to think i was perfect.i wanted him to be able to see me over Ashely.

"did Chris say anything about me?"I asked.switching topics to something more relevant in my head. The face he made when I said this made my stomach drop.Mainly because I knew how mean Chris could get at times and considering what had happened earlier tonight I don't think he said anything good.

"Do you want what he should've said or what he did say?"he asked as I made my way back to my previous placement.

"Tell me what he actually said."I answered.feeling like I was taking a leap of faith.but I knew if I wasn't told the truth then I would never have a chance of getting over this man.

"he was all like 'it went horrible, it’s not even my fault though, she’s being an inane bitch and is trying to make me choose between her and ash.she needs to get over herself.'"Nick said, mimicking Chris' voice to make it more light hearted.it was a little funny but the words made my eyes well up with tears nonetheless.

I was feeling so many different things.sadness, anger, stress but most of all betrayal.i mean he said it wasn't even his fault basically saying it was mine.my fault for being upset for a little bit.he would rather call me an insane bitch then just admit he was wrong and stop being friends with Ashley.that fat pig.

"what!?Ugh I hate him so much!!Why do I even like him?He treats me like shit,never listens and is always on top of other girls?!I don't even think I've heard him say he loves me in like 3 months!? do you think he's cheating?oh my God he probably is!"I rambled on.placing my head in my arms at the end of my words.i slowly began to sob into my own arms.once Nick heard my sobs he hugged my hunched over back.

"no don't say that.he's obviously not cheating on you."he reassured.his words didn't do much though because my cries only got louder and more emotional.my best friend ushered me up so he could hug me normally.i pulled away from the hug  once I was able to actually breath.looking up at Nick with tired, sad,eyes.thankful for him being here but also embarrassed for crying over his brother. "wanna watch a movie?" the boy sympathetically asked.i nodded a small yes before I grabbed all my snacks and headed over to the couch.

watching the movie was a good distraction for some time.but nonetheless I found myself thinking of him. how much I missed him and just wishing he was here right now.im not going to apologize though.I did nothing wrong no matter what he thinks.so if that means that we never speak again then I'm fine with that.oh who am I kidding, I'm definitely not fine with that.

✧THE NEXT DAY, SUNDAY

'come over please' and 'I miss you' were the two messages I had been staring at for at least five minutes.the sender being chris made this all the more strange and confusing.i mean he was just calling me an insane bitch yesterday and now he wants me to come over.but for some reason I caved.maybe he wanted to apologize or something.

I threw a zip up over my lace tank top and tied my gray sweatpants.sliding my crocs on as I stepped outside started walking to my car.

Once I began driving I found myself more fidgety in anticipation than what felt like ever before.fingers tapping against the steering wheel rhythmically and constant glancing at the ETA were I knew this.

As I entered the house using my key I felt anxiety rush over me.Matts keys weren't here and neither was Nick's jacket which he never leaves the house without during this time of the year.meaning that it was only the two of us in this house.

My footsteps felt heavy as I walked down to his room.something I had done many times now feeling unfamiliar.I knocked on his bedroom door lightly once I approached it. though as the door was opened I wasn't even aloud a greeting before he placed his hands on my hips and smashed his lips onto mine hungrily.i wish I could say I rejected the kiss but I couldn't.it was like he had put a spell on me.

he walked backwards as we eventually crashed onto his bed.i straddled over his lap as I deepened kiss.he swiftly flipped me over onto my back and moved me so I was sat up a little.i took the hint and unzipped my hoodie, throwing it off to the side while trying my best not to break the kiss.

he then removed my tank top.now revealing my bare chest to him "no bra huh?so you are still my slut." he said as a smirk formed on his lips.

"I was actually about to go to bed but whatever you wanna believe."I retorted.

"do you want me to fuck you or not?"he questioned, looking into my eyes.i stayed silent though.letting the wetness between my legs make my decisions. "that's what I thought."he darkly said. pale arms taking his own shirt off.toned body now all in view for me.

"you know what to do.''was my signal to take my pants off.i undid the tie on my sweats and slid them off.leaving my white laced panties on. "sit up and go on the side of the bed"he demanded.i did as he said.sitting on my knees a on the side of the bed I was closer to.he then came around to the side I was facing.once he was directly in front of me he dropped his baggy jeans and boxers at once, cock springing free.all 8 inches now stood in front of me.his pink tip leaking pre-cum.

I looked up at him innocently.as if I had never done this before.i then, on instinct, began to pump him with my hand slowly.my actions making his breath hitch.i placed my lips on the tip and began to lower my head.pace increasing every time I brought my head up.eventually his hands made their way to my hair and began to push my head into his cock roughly. "fuck just like that.keep going.use that perfect little mouth for something good for once."he harshly spat out looking down at me as he said that.i ignored his words though and continued to suck him off.

This feeling being lost on me for almost a week made my throat sting pleasurably.his grip on my hair tightened which told he was close.the signal making me go faster.if even possible.small whimpers fell from his cherry lips as I continued to work. “Oh God yes,please I’m…I’m almost there”he mumbled out, the words working as encouragement for me to keep going.then without warning I felt his cum shoot itself into my mouth.the salty savory flavor touched my taste buds as I swallowed.

Once he came down from his own high he looked down at me.i kept my eyes on his.looking up like a lost puppy. "fuck your so hot" he said as he grabbed my middle area and situated me on my back and so I was on his bed longways.once he laid down with me he whispered "sit on my lap baby"

I complied and did as he said.placing myself more on his legs then his actual lap because I knew he wouldn't be that easy. "you want me to fuck you?"he asked.i nodded 'yes' in response. looking down at him with pleading eyes even though I was on top right now. "use your words.you had so much to say before, what happened to that?"he teased.

"please chris just fuck me, ive been waiting for days!"I squealed out.thankful there was nobody else home right now. 

"good girl.."he hissed out.his words being my command to lift my hips up and hover over his cock.then without warning he thrusted up into me after lining himself up with my entrance.the sudden feeling making me yelp.he continued to buck his hips up into mine as I bounced simultaneously, placing my fingertips on his chest for some sort of stabilization.

moans that were higher pitched than my actual voice spilled out of my mouth along with swears and small pleads.my body was hot as I went up and down on him.his hands were at my waist, guiding my every move harshly. The pale boy grabbed my waist hard, making me wince at the pleasure mixed with pain.the idea that the boy who I was crying over last night was ramming himself into me right now made me feel guilty.but I can't help it.his touch is intoxicating.

my jaw fell open as pornographic noises flowed from my lips.eyes screwing shut and head being now hung low.i was so caught up in myself that I didn't even register the small whimpers coming from the boy underneath me. The noises being my key to realize he really did miss me.at least a part of me. "keep going baby, don't stop, i'm gonna-"I rambled on before being cut off by my own already familiar noises

"Me too..shit.."he whispered.

"chris fuck fuck fuuuuck"I strung out as I came undone on top of him.laying my body on his as he thrusted up into me again,chasing his own high. Whiny whimpers made their way into my ear as I felt him twitch inside of me.knowing he was close I decided to tease him a little by kissing his neck and leaving a trail of hickeys.my sensitive body not mattering at all to either of us.

"fuck baby" he groaned out as I felt his load shoot into me, coating my insides.we sat there in silence.sweaty bodies catching their breath.once we calmed ourselves he pulled me off him and situated me so I was laying on my side, facing the boy who replicated my current position."lemme get you a towel."he said before promptly getting up, putting his boxers on, and doing as he said.

When he came back and cleaned me up I couldn't help but stare at him.all his features slithering into my eyes. "Can I have a shirt?"I asked softy.not wanting to put my tank top back on because of the temperature.he only hummed an ‘mhm’ before tossing me a random black shirt with a white design on it.

"Can we talk? ''he awkwardly said as we both were now sat up and at least partially clothed. I nodded my head to signify I was listening."listen y/n im...im really sorry about earlier.i was a dick and I shouldn't have acted like that.i know you don't like Ashley and i'm totally fine with dropping her.i would rather lose her then you any day and i'm so sorry if I made you feel otherwise.a-and if your ever upset again don't be afraid to say something cause I promise I won't act like a dick again."he nervously rambled on.

I wish I had it in me to stay mad at him but I couldn't.i know this apology was just so I wouldn't leave him lonely and he would pull something stupid in a few weeks.but I can't help it.i'm in love with him and there's nothing I can do about it.

✧MONDAY MORNING

my eyes screwed shut almost immediately after they fluttered open, the bright sunlight causing this.i turned my head around to the best of my abilities to see if chris was awake and it didn't seem like it. I turned my head back and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. "you're finally awake."Chris said from behind me,startling me a little.

I hummed a small 'mhm' before trying to get up but to my dismay he pulled me back down to my previous spot. "I have to pee."I giggled.

"pee later"he mumbled, pulling me closer if possible.

"yea no thank you"I said before breaking out of his limp arms grasp and standing up to go to the bathroom.taking a mental note of my sore legs from last night.

"I see you limping!"he teased once I got into the bathroom.

"oh fuck off"I lightly shouted back.once I washed my hands I began walking towards his door, the idea of food in mind.

"Where are you going?"he asked from his now sat up place.holding himself up on his elbows.

"I'm hungry"I said while throwing on my sweatpants that had been tossed here last night.

When I got up the stairs Nick turned his head to me.shock and disappointment coated his face. "Okay I thought we agreed you hated him?"he questioned.Keeping his voice low knowing Chris was still in the house.

"ugh I know but he texted me last night and told me to come over and then one thing led to another and...look he apologized."I tried to reason.nick though, was not having any of this.i made my way over to the fridge and grabbed my strawberry smoothie from Thursday that had been left here by accident.Taking a sip from it while I turned around to face my best friend again.

"yea and he apologized last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.you have to let him go y/n.he's not good for you."Nick explained to me.I know he was right but I couldn't just get over him.I wasn't the type of person to just get over stuff like that.

"Well last night seemed genuine, okay?I seriously think he meant it.''I said before footsteps were heard coming from chris' bedroom which ended me and Nick's conversation.

Chris hugged me from behind and kissed the top of my head.nick shot me a "you need help" look and I couldn't do much besides give him a "yea I know" look back.the brothers began conversing but it was more like background music to me.

I know nick is right, he’s not good for me.but I can't help it.everytime I look into his eyes I feel like i'm sinking deeper in this pit of love I dug so long a ago for him.i hated that I loved him and how I knew he was gonna do me wrong.but with his arms wrapped around me like they were right now I can't help but leave that as a problem for future me.

[samualjennings]

Parting Company

Chapter 1

The Stage is now set, and our time is near! While none can deny that the scene has been dour, This hallowed ground shall once again be full of cheer! We mustn’t tarry at this, our fateful hour. Though we be mere artists, and our stage somewhat small… Nonetheless we must give it our all!

Oh, what dreams had befallen broken hearts, Who almost didn’t dare, But could not forsake their rightful part: A duty they’re compelled to bear. It’s true, I knew not well the author of this command, But who needs a commander to make a stand?!

I fight for honor, to pay back my due, That without my debtors’ knowledge I did accrue. Let my bow be my sword! Let it ring in every ear: It matters not who’d discount it; Fair Lackadaisy’s still…..!

“Are you gonna keep yappin’ up there, or are we gonna get this show on the road? We only got a couple hours to practice, you know.”

Rocky was suddenly pulled from his reverie, his vision coming back into focus on Zib’s annoyed expression.

“Right! Of course.” The agile cat jumped down from where he was perched atop the wine cabinet, violin in hand. “So then, maestro, what melodies do we have planned to impress our illustrious guests tonight?”

Zib struck a match on his shoe, before bringing it up to the cigarette in his mouth. He took one deep puff of calming smoke before turning his attention to the young lad’s question. “Haven’t quite decided. Mitzi’s bringing in some executive types, and if I know anything about your average, everyday fat cat, it’s that they can’t stand anything that wouldn’t put a kitten to sleep.” Zib sported an annoyed expression, accentuating his speech by various arm gestures, the smoke from his cigarette forming erratic patterns on its way up to the cave ceiling.

“Of course,” Zib continued, “it isn’t exactly your average, everyday fat cat who comes to get wasted at a speakeasy in the first place, is it?”

Rocky listened intently to the band leader, wanting to help him resolve this minor conundrum. Realistically, though, there was only so much help he could offer. “Alas, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had the privilege of meeting many average, everyday fat cats,” Rocky remarked with a hint of irony.

The older cat took another long drag of tobacco, and it was like the wheels turning in his head suddenly clicked into place. “That’s it. I’ve made my decision.” Zib extinguished his cigarette on a nearby ashtray. “These executives are coming to a speakeasy? Well, by God, they’re gonna get the speakeasy experience! We’re gonna swing this place so hard, their fragile hearts skip a beat!”

Rocky beamed with excitement, his smile extending to the ends of his face. “And what a beat there will be!” The exuberant violinist grabbed Zib’s hand and rushed him to the stage, where the rest of the band was waiting for them. “Make haste, maestro! At the ready, my dear cohorts! We have a show tonight, and everyone has a role to play!”

Not waiting for any official signal to start, the dramatic violinist began to play the complicated string part of a swing piece he had written himself. Zib was slightly stunned by the man’s sudden assertiveness, but it did not affect him for long. The band leader simply shrugged, picking up his sax and following Rocky’s lead. The rest of the band then filled in with their parts.

Tonight could be the night: the night when Lackadaisy claws its way up from the dumps it had been relegated to, and retakes its rightful place at the head of underground Saint Louis society! Alternatively, it could merely draw it down further into the depths. Rocky was determined to make sure of the former. He owed his soul to the band, to Mitzi, to this magical place, and he trusted tonight that magic would be made known for all to see!

And thus, I begin my new Lackadaisy fanfiction!

I won't spoil too much (and I don't have everything planned out), but I will say that this is gonna be a Hellerby fanfic!

I wont adhere to any particular update schedule, but I'll write when inspiration hits and post here as I finish chapters!

Hope you like it! <3

[wowitscoldout]

Thinking about the spoken language in hollow knight. The written stuff too but that looks like one of those languages where each word is a symbol, like Japanese i think(? I don't know anything about language, shoulda started with that)

But like the signs are like lil guys and symbols and things. Pictures too, there's pictures, just straight up illustrations, really. Like for the stags and the cities, that's just illustration. Which does beg the question of "do these bugs not have a written language at all and are just communicating via paintings" like cave paintings or something. But then what's up with the wanderers journals? Are those all like, comics? Are those ? What even are those, how do they work, cause it's like one page, that's not much journaling. These guys have paper! They do, or cornifer does, but why not just? Is it durability???

Whatever the case, they talk to each other and they talk to us with spoken words. Like how iselda is always like "(big sigh) bapanada.." like, what does that mean? Cause her written dialogue is different every time, so bapanada is like "hi welcome, I guess" or a greeting of some sort. Same with sly, "poptumous geo" like, what's that about. Or when zote is yappin and ruining the carefully crafted ambiance of dirtmouth, what's up with that?

I'm extra excited for silksong because Hornet can talk! What's she gonna say? How many voiced lines will she have compared to text in boxes? Will she still talk when she's fighting? Cause she yaps during battle in hollow knight, "shaw" "uhn hegaley" and what not, "git gud" and all that. I know it's for telegraph game reasons but lots of other bosses just kinda grunt at you, or they don't make any noise at all, so why is hornet yappin?? Saying shit like "prepare thyself" in bug language.

Speaking of silksong, what's up with that name? Cause hollow knight is named, like "here's this game about the hollow knight, you'll never guess what its called, that's right, hollow knight" so silksong, silk (spider, hornets a spider) song (is this gonna ? What, bang out the tunes?) idk I haven't watched the trailer in 4 years or whatever, I haven't watched it since it came out.

Someone should think about that

[inkcoffinz]

I can't find your post where you said Scotland is actually not as resentful as he seems, I agree, and I just love this concept especially when England, who's dealt him harm throughout the ages, is (unsurprisingly) the one with so much anger to unpack

Yeah! Scotland is a complex guy with complex emotions and a very apparent struggle with said emotions, which I think can really misconstrue what his intentions are. As an individual, he is very much a dude who lingers on nostalgia and a firm desire to hold onto the past while still trying to live in the present with said past weighing on him constantly. His bad relationship with England is one that I feel is less on the basis of malice and more of regret. Scotland IS the eldest sibling and is the one who watched his brothers grow and change- something I think affected him a lot. He was inherently put in a more parental position as the eldest yet wasn’t -and still isn’t- in the position to be able to fulfill that role that’s wanted of him. He is a man who desires his independence as an entity but still has an unhealthy sense of relying on others. To sum up, Alasdair Kirkland is a pushover.

How this plays into his relationship with England is that, while yes they fought- fought a LOT- but there were many instances where Scotland inherently worked with England: which I think those instances weigh on Scotland’s conscious. Would England still be the same he is now if perhaps he had pushed a little harder? Fought against him a little more? If he had opposed the things that he had went along with? Would England have turned out differently if Scotland would’ve been a better older brother- that is the question that I think weighs on his mind and creates more of a feeling of dread and remorse- one that can culminate in the feeling of anger that you can sometimes see Scotland lash out with. That and of course the times that England is genuinely a shitface and Scotland rightfully doesn’t want to take his shit.

All to say- I think Scotland does hold inherent malice towards England- of course. But, I think trumping that is a sense of eldest sibling guilt that he is responsible for what his brother became by not trying hard enough to be a fighting force against what he was becoming.

But who knows, maybe I’m just yappin

[nightghoul381]

|ω･)ﾉ👉👈 could i get some fluffy comfort pwetty pweaseeee(´,,•ω•,,)♡ mm, mc/emma is just… having a bad few weeks and it all piled on top of her and beat her down a lil, she's lost all confidence in herself, in her ability, and her looks ._. she lost her sparkle and her bounce so… silvio being silvio and trying to give her her sparkle baaack ;u; either pov is good!! ;uuuu;

(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ

(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ Hugs back at you!! I hope you enjoy it!

Silvio Ricci x Reader Hurt/Comfort + Fluff WC: 1.1k

It seemed that everything you’d been doing recently was destined to be a disappointment. The paperwork you’d done: riddled with mistakes. The event that you were planning: A complete mess after three different vendors cancelled. Even your cooking seemed to be nothing more than a Clavis-esque conglomeration of ingredients.

After so many repeated failures, you could feel your confidence slipping. It had been hard coming to Benitoite; the culture was so drastically different from Rhodolite, and to say you had been feeling out of place would be an understatement. You’d managed to get through the first couple of months easily enough since Rio and Silvio had rarely left your side, but life goes on and responsibilities piled onto both of them relentlessly, leaving little room to cater to you any longer.

You’d hardly seen either of them this past week: Silvio out on a voyage and Rio up to his ears in fixing a collection of trade agreements. You know it doesn’t help to feel sorry for yourself, but you couldn’t seem to stem the rushing tide of negative, self-deprecating thoughts that flooded your brain.

Even now, as you sit staring out over the sea from the balcony you couldn’t seem to shake the dark cloud hanging over you to truly enjoy the beautiful colors of the sunset. You let your head drop into your hands, heaving a heavy sigh.

You hear the sound of the door bursting open, followed by the obvious jangling of your fiancé as he strides into the room. At first you feel a brief rush of excitement that is devoured by the shame you’d been burying yourself with all day.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Silvio barks, flopping onto the sofa beside you.

You curl in further to yourself, trying to become smaller, but of course Silvio isn’t going to accept that. He pulls you into his lap, turning you to face him.

“Ya gonna tell me why you didn’t run up to greet me like an excited puppy? Something obviously musta happened or you’d be bouncing all over the place and yappin’ my ear off.” He grumbles, pulling your hands away from your face.

When he sees your forlorn, defeated expression, his gaze softens.

“That’s the last time I leave you under the watch of that damned dog.” The statement is meant to be inaudible, but he can’t hide the growl in his throat.

“Come on, tell me what’s goin’ on,” he whispers, tilting your chin to force you to look at him. Staring into his sea-blue irises sends warmth through your body, but you still feel like opening your mouth would only make him more upset.

“…it’s nothing.” You whisper, leaning into his shoulder and taking in his familiar spicy scent.

“Bullshit.”

He shuffles around, pushing you back so that you can’t hide from his piercing gaze.

“Talk to me.” The deep frown on his face pulls at your heart and you finally let out a sigh.

“It’s just been a rough week, is all,” you admit, forcing an unconvincing smile. You lean in to give him a kiss and he puts a hand on your forehead, pushing you back again.

“That ain’t gonna cut it, you’ve had rough weeks before and they don’t have ya lookin’ like that,” he scoffed. His eyebrows quirk up in question and you feel your heart sink.

You swallow, feeling the emotions you’d been bottling up for the past few weeks bubbling to the surface. The gentle kiss to your forehead causes the dam to burst.

“I… I can’t seem to do anything right…” You feel your voice catch, “Everything I’ve done for so long just falls apart and I can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with me? Why can’t do anything myself without completely messing it up.” You feel your eyes stinging with tears at the admission. A shaky breath escapes your lips and suddenly you’re falling backward.

As your back hits the couch, you see Silvio leaning over you. He threads his fingers through yours and squeezes tightly.

“You ain’t supposed to be thinkin’ like that dammit. How do you not see how amazing you are?” He says, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, so gentle and full of love, your chest aches.

“One of the things I love most about you is how you try so fuckin’ hard all the time and put your all into everything you do. I get that since stuff’s been fallin’ apart, it probably does hurt more for you. You take everything so seriously. But you don’t need to blame yourself. You came into royalty outta nowhere. No ordinary woman would be able to handle the ridiculous work load without cracking. No other person I can think of would be able to do what you’ve done.”

Letting out a long sigh, Silvio reaches up and strokes your cheek with his thumb, staring deeply into your eyes.

“What I’m tryin’ to say is… if you’re feeling like nothing’s going right…remember that you’re my favorite person in the whole world and I can’t have you thinking bad stuff about her, okay?”

The earnest passion in his voice twists your heart and you’re unable to hold back the tears.

“Aahhh shit! That wasn’t supposed to make you cry!” He mutters, sitting back on his knees, running his hand through his hair. He hops up, beginning to pace anxiously.

It takes you a moment to regain your composure, but soon you’re standing and just as he turns back to face you, you throw yourself into Silvio’s arms.

“What the—”

You cut his response off with an aggressive kiss. When you finally release his lips, you hold Silvio’s face in your hands and looking him directly in the eye.

“Thank you, Silvio,” you whisper.

“You’re so damn confusing.” He murmurs, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth before he leans down and captures your mouth in another kiss.

You’re not really sure how, but his less than eloquent reassurances are able to soothe your worried mind more than anything else ever could.

The rest of the evening passes with the warmest of snuggles and the sweetest of words shared just between the two of you.

The next morning you wake in his arms, his vibrant gaze rested on your face. The tender love you can see in those deep oceanic pools brings another wave of affection rushing through you and you pull him into a brief kiss.

“You back to being you?” He asks with a chuckle as you part.

You nod, smiling happily at him.

“Good.”

Taglist: @candied-boys @aquagirl1978 @ominousjangling @violettduchess @themiscarnival

If you'd like to be added to the tag list just send me a message :)

[stormisamoth]

yapping about c3e118 (spoilers)

yooo leaving the table

always love a what's your mother's name callback

bright idea for ludinus: try fuckin therapy and stop yappin

y'all asmodeus is so cool

still questioning every thing this mf says or does. like what's with the hand on the back of the neck bro? lord or lying liars who lie

good damn break is early

fucking EPIC battle map holy shit

YOOOOO EIRAS BACK

fuck yeah power word stun

fuck him up orym

the moment anything appears as a child I immediately dont trust it like why you tryna appear all sweet and innocent, hmmm? 🤨

oh shit it's in Imogen oh shit oh fuck

there are so many questions I feel like they should be asking before they make this decision but they're not asking them

like yeah bro you're hungry and wanna eat the gods, what counts as a God? what happens once you've eaten all the gods?

I still really don't think releasing predathos is going to end well

FUCKING CLIFFHANGER

[slashhinginghasher]

Dog Day Afternoon - Ghoap x reader

I've been binge-reading @ohbo-ohno's blog all day and just had to write a companion piece to their amazing story Don't Leave Me Locked In Your Heart.

No warnings, just fluff, but like, really really stupid fluff.

***

In a normal housing situation, you'd be baffled by how quickly your shampoo tended to disappear. You'd carefully measure how much you used each time, eye every roommate with suspicion when they emerged from the bathroom with wet hair. Maybe you'd even hide the bottle in your room between baths for safe-keeping, or fill an empty bottle with something gross to see who came out covered in a gunky mess.

But you didn't live in a normal housing situation, and you didn't have to wonder where all your shampoo was going because the thieving Scot who took it also made you wash his fucking hair with it. Every. Damn. Time. Sometimes even more than once.

"Can't have me gettin' split ends, bonnie," he said knowledgeably. "No' like Simon over there."

You didn't inform him that washing one's hair multiple times in the shower did not make the shampoo work better. You did not point out that he and Simon, being military, both cut their hair too short and too often for split ends. You didn't even accuse him of only knowing what split ends were because it was written on the shampoo bottle.

No, you kept your thoughts to yourself. Because while Johnny was apparently in possession of mad military skills - including manhandling, referring to Simon by his rank, and probably guns or something - they paled in comparison to his true talent: spouting an endless amount of bullshit at you until you accidentally said something sexual in return, and then taking that as an opening to be actually sexual.

Once, when you were fussing over a blemish forming on your nose, Johnny had sworn that you could contract flesh-eating bacteria and he'd still love you, holes and all. You had been physically incapable of stopping yourself from muttering that his love of your holes was what had gotten you into this situation in the first place. Johnny immediately got an evil gleam in his eye, and Simon had laughed. Out loud. Then they took you to bed for an entire day. Literally a full twenty-four hours. You hadn't been able to walk right for almost a week.

So yeah, you'd learned your lesson and you didn't goad Johnny, even when you had something spectacularly clever to say.

"Think you're a bloody show dog now, Johnny?" Simon rumbled. "Yappin' on about your hair like a damn poodle."

"A poodle!" Johnny shouted, affronted. "Am no fuckin' poodle, LT. Naw." He rubbed his hands together, warming up to the subject. "A german shepherd, maybe. Or a doberman. One a' those fuck-off big boys that makes you piss yerself a little when you get too close. What d'you think, hen?"

Oh, there were so many answers you could give to break this man's ego. Breeds they'd have to look up on google to feel the full impact of your devastating wit. But no, you had to stay strong. You pressed your lips into a tight line and maintained a dignified silence.

"Oi, I'm askin' ye a question."

"You ask me a lot of questions, and almost all of them are stupid."

Johnny looked positively offended.

"They are not stupid!"

"'If a guy was on the moon and he jumped hard enough in the right direction do you think he could launch himself back to earth?'" you quoted. "'Do we say things suit people because suits look good on you or is it called a suit because it suits you?' 'If unicorns were real do you think they'd let people ride them and if they did would you attach the reins to their mouth like a normal horse or would you tie 'em around the horn?'"

"All of which are important questions and not at all stupid!"

"Everything is stupid when you're asking it at 3 am, Johnny!"

Simon's eyes were bouncing between the two of you like a tennis match. He looked like he was having the time of his life (in Simon terms, which meant that one corner of his mouth was turned up in a microscopic smirk).

"I cannae help it that my deepest thoughts come late at night," Johnny said solemnly. "An' you're avoiding the most important question: what dog am I?"

"You're a mutt, Johnny," Simon said. "A scraggly little mutt that's gonna get muzzled if it doesn't learn to stop asking stupid questions when people are tryin' to sleep."

Johnny grinned. You weren't sure if he was the sort of person who could shrug off vitriol from anybody, or if he was so over the moon about Simon that he would preen under any kind of attention he got from him. And the last thing you wanted was to feel bad for either of your captors. But damn, the bigger man could be downright mean sometimes.

"Belgian malinois," you said.

"Come again?"

"Mouthy police dog that starts trembling if you order it to stay still for too long," you clarified.

"Sounds about right," Simon muttered.

Johnny cocked his head, mulling over this with extreme deliberation, before pointing at Simon.

"What about him?"

You considered Simon. Big, scary, unflappable Simon. "Shit your pants if you see him in a dark alley" Simon who could definitely rip your head off your body but also somehow gave the best hugs and turned into a pile of goo if you scratched his head right.

"Caucasian shepherd," you announced. "Also known as the Russian bear dog."

Simon nodded. You were pretty sure he had no idea what kind of dog that was and would have agreed with anything that sounded appropriately large or menacing enough.

"Aw fuck off!" Johnny cried. "How come I've gotta be the vibrating cop dog while he gets to be the fucking bear dog?"

"And that's what you get for askin' stupid questions, mutt."

Johnny huffed and pouted for a moment before turning back to you.

"And you, love? What kinda dog are you?"

"I'm a cat," you replied. "Obviously."

Your stomach dropped as that devious spark kindled in Johnny's eyes.

"Too true, kitty, too true," he purred. "Fancy a bit of a chase?"

How the fuck did he always manage to do that???

[celestie0]

hey ellie! i hope your doing well <3 after reading the most recent ihm chapter i was curious to see where you plan on taking ihm!! like is it going to be more angsty or fluffy? feel free to share what your comfortable with but absolutely no pressure! i know it’s hard to have a whole storyline planned out from the get go >_<. hopefully this ask doesn’t come off as invasive or overly demanding •n• ;. you truly are one of the best writers i’ve come across on tumblr and im sure whatever you come up with will be amazing!!

hi darling! it’s kinda funny you say “it’s hard to have a whole storyline planned from the get go” but i actually do have like the entirety of ihm planned from top to bottom 😂😂 and i’m like…90% sure it’s gonna be a monster of a fic at least 250k words…but yeahh hmm to try to answer your question. the plot is VERYYY intricate, there’s so many moving parts n dynamics, but overall it will be a huge mix of fluff, angst, and smut tbh!!

the angst will definitely pick up a lot, i’ve already planned/prewritten like 6ish smut scenes lol, and the fluff will also pick up a lot

that’s about as vague of an answer i can give without spoiling anything haha. i really do think ihm will be a large range of stuff, from silly stupid banter to passionate sex to like literally life or death situations 💀💀 but yea i hope this kinda answers

notably, i’m so sorry for the slow burn so far. truuuuuly i didn’t think that it would be this slow lol it all went by so fast in my head when i was planning but?? we’re 50k words in rn n maybe 15% done w what i have planned hahah. i really underestimated how many words i would need to accomplish my plans. but i appreciate those of you that are sticking around n i’m really excited to get to the juicier stuff!!

srry im yappin i just love ihm very much. thanks for your sweet words bb!! take care <3

[crackshct]

39. What sort of questions or thoughts recur in their lives, either specifically or as a theme? Why are these never answered, or answered permanently to their satisfaction?

Character Development Questions | not accepting

I think there are two major questions that underlie Boothill's character. I'll start with the more global, abstract one that his design as a character embodies, and that's the question of humanity. What sets a human apart from a machine? What draws the line between the dead and the living? These aren't questions that we see Boothill explicitly ask himself (or others) in canon but they nevertheless seem to be thematic to most of his story involvement.

Boothill's body is, most obviously, almost entirely machine. He frequently talks about it in this sort of distant way, like you might talk about a personal tool and not your physical being. His brain and his heart seem to be the only two parts of him that are still organic, as his teeth and eyes have both been augmented, and likely the rest of his head/face as well. His brain isn't entirely untouched either and does have at least a memory chip of some kind. I point all of this out because in contrast, Boothill is probably among the most human in the cast. He's empathetic, compassionate, and down-to-earth, and he's not afraid to be emotional or sentimental.

Likewise, he refers to himself as a dead man once or twice, and that his motivation for getting his cyborg body is because vengeance is the only thing he has left so he might as well turn himself into a weapon. This serves as the crux of his hypnosis in the 2.6 Penacony chapter, when the Slumbernana Assistant tries to erode his spirit by walking him through giving up all the things that drive him, including his anger and revenge. There's a brief moment when we're made to think that the hypnosis worked, and that Boothill had been reduced to a husk once he gave up his quest for vengeance, but in the end, we see that there's this innocent, childish core that he still harbors underneath it all. Instead of letting external factors, like the absolute destruction of his home, the colonization of his planet, and the herding of his people into reservations, turn him into a broody living dead man on a single-minded quest for revenge, he has managed to stay tethered to his younger self. So Boothill the cyborg, who calls himself the walking dead, is not so different from the young boy called Loaded Gun.

Since Boothill does call himself a dead man, he probably still questions his humanity. It doesn't seem to come up often, but he does occasionally lament his missing functions, like the fact that he can't cry anymore. While we, as the players, get to see his overarching narrative and how the writers have developed his character into this paradox of humanity, Boothill doesn't get this top-down view of his life. How human he still is will likely remain a question he keeps asking himself for the rest of his existence, sort of like a periodic check-in.

The second recurring question is one of justice. It's come up twice in canon. The first was during the hypnosis scene in 2.6, where it wasn't really the question itself so much as Boothill's answer to it.

Boothill: Phew... Wanna know somethin’? I was worried I had it all wrong just now! But now, there ain't no problem, 'cause only an evildoer asks "why" before he dies. I ain't deaf, alright? While you were yappin' so loud, did it ever cross your mind I could tell good from evil? Controlled Assistanana 71: ... Boothill: It's as Nick said: Revenge needs no excuses, just like how there's one thing in the world that doesn't need to be taught… Takin’ a shot at bad guys. Controlled Assistanana 71: How did things take such a turn...? You're just a child… Even for someone born with a bad nature, the first time doing something like this should weigh heavily on their conscience... Boothill: Is that so? Well, I reckon you got that wrong. Be it a wanted criminal with the blood of many on their hands or a young cowboy who's never fired a gun, both share a common instinct in every sense of the word... ...And that's to put a bullet in anything evil, muddle-fudger!

And the second comes from his visitor conversations on the Astral Express, where he asks the Trailblazer what justice is:

Boothill: My mind's a complete jumble… Does punishing evildoers not count as justice? Does fighting violence with violence count as justice? Trailblazer: Of course it counts! Evildoers must be punished! Boothill: What counts as "punishment"? What if I break their legs… Or just put them lil' fudgeheads in the ground directly, you know! To be honest, I don't care for this kind of mind-numbing philosophy. But the other day, I got lectured by a little kid about this! Apparently you have to consider your methods when upholding justice. Bullets can't hit vital parts, you can't steal criminals' property… and you have to give them a chance to repent! Trailblazer: The world of a child is so pure. Boothill: Hah! I agree, everyone should have a bottom line. But when it comes to evil, the best way to end it is a single fatal blow. I'll leave these restrictive "moral principles" for the pure-hearted folk!

In the hypnosis scene, it's young Boothill talking about his philosophy of justice, where he's already come to an answer: that justice is in the eye of the beholder, so to speak. There isn't a universal justice, only what one perceives as good and evil relative to themselves. And yet in his visitor lines, when he's several decades older, he's still questioning if he's delivering the "right" kind of justice. He comes to the same answer again - that he'll deliver justice his way - but this is evidence enough that encountering other people's definitions of justice still makes him question his own. Tying into his humanness as discussed above, one of Boothill's characteristics is that he's refreshingly naive, and he takes readily to other people's guidance. If someone tells him he's going about justice the wrong way, he'll listen to them and reconsider it. And given how ambiguous justice and morality is, he'll probably constantly encounter people and situations that make him question his own definition of it even if his answer ultimately never changes. It's just another periodic check-in.

[helicrazy]

💬

Send a ‘💬’ to catch a glimpse of a memory my muse has. (Not accepting.)

Another solid punch strikes Vortex on the side of the face. His battle mask was knocked off a couple of hits ago, and his visor shattered within the first few, yet he still holds his grin high. He got captured by the Autobots and has been in their interrogation room for the past few hours.

He should add that it was a very boring one. There were two chairs and a table between them, in the typical police style he had seen on Cybertron many times before. He had expected the Autobot spaceship to have something more... interesting to be in, but instead, he had to endure blank walls and a two-way mirror for whoever was watching.

And he doubted anyone was.

"I ain't gunna ask ya again." The red, bulky mech, known as Ironhide, questions the Combaticon while grabbing their chassis.

Vortex continues to smile and watches the black and white enforcer at the door shake their helm at the scene, whom he recognizes as Prowl. So much for the good cop, bad cop routine; this felt like an impatient cop and a hot-headed mech who didn't understand how to interrogate properly.

"Mm, come on. Hit me again." Vortex purrs while fluttering his rotors. His face is covered in dents and energon, yet he didn't seem bothered by it. "I'm so close."

Ironhide raises his fist, but Prowl rushes in to grab his arm. "No. That's enough, Ironhide. This clearly isn't working."

"C'mon, Prowl." Ironhide grumbles. "Just a few more and he'll start yappin'."

"I think it would be best if you stepped out." Prowl states as he releases Ironhide's arm and points to the exit.

"Yes, Ironhide, take yourself and your horrible accent out of here." Vortex giggles, resulting in the red mech lunging forward but getting stopped by the enforcer.

"Take a break and clear your helm!" Prowl orders when shoving Ironhide toward the door.

Ironhide releases a vent as he punches the code in to open the door. "Alright, but I’ll be waitin' right outside if he pulls any funny business." He steps out, and the door closes behind him, leaving the two alone in the room.

"So does this mean you'll be the one to finish me off?"

Prowl glances over to give the Decepticon a glare and grabs a chair to bring around the table and sit closer to them. "Do you have to make things difficult for yourself? Or is this a game to you?"

Vortex laughs as he shifts in the chair he's tied to. The restraints feel tight besides his pedes, so he'll focus on getting those with his build-in knives there. "It was a game for the other mech. You, however? You look like you know what you're doing, so maybe I'll comply."

The enforcer slants his helm. "I doubt you'll be answering my questions with complete honesty."

"Finish me off, and I'll answer one question. How does that sound?" Vortex responds while spreading out his legs.

Prowl scoffs. "It doesn't work like that."

"Well, then it appears we are at a standstill." The Combaticon huffs and looks away from the other, appearing to be pouting.

"I can't trust you to give actual answers after... releasing you of your pleasures."

Vortex vents. "You don't actually know that until you try." He glances over to Prowl and leans forward, feeling the ropes around the pedes loosen up and break apart. "How about I suggest something else?"

The enforcer's optics dim, as if agreeing to listen, but it's all a trick. In seconds, the ropes snap off the Con's pedes, and their legs swing up to wrap around and bring Prowl down. They both fall to the floor with Prowl's neck squeezed between Vortex's thighs as he attempts to pry a leg off with his servos. Static gasps are heard, feeling his vocal box nearly being crushed.

"Not how I imagined you between my legs, but this works just fine." The Combaticon giggles as he keeps the pressure around the 'Bot's neck strong and uses his rotors to free his arms, yet still keeps them behind his back. "I won't kill you, I simply need-"

The door gives a notification that someone is entering the room, and it's no other than Ironhide crashing in concerned and still fuming. "What's goin' on?!" His optics brighten when spotting his Autobot companion is serious trouble, and snarls at enemy. "Let 'im go."

Vortex grins and motions the other to come over with a helm nudge, to which they fall for and come rushing for the rescue. He quickly crushes Prowl's neck as the red 'Bot reaches to grab, pull him up and slam him against the wall.

"Yer in fer it now." Ironhide growls as he holds the Combaticon up with one servo while the other forms a fist.

The smirk gets wider on Vortex as he reveals his free arms with both servos holding a blade. "Am I now?" He smugly questions before plunging both knives into the mech's audial sensors.

Ironhide releases the mech as he screams, but it's short-lived as Vortex removes both blades and uses one to stab into his vocalizer box. Silencing him.

Vortex pulls the blade out and lightly shoves Ironhide out of his way while watching them stumble to the floor and grasp their throat. "Whatcha fussin' about?" The copter asks as he mimics the Autobot's tone. "Cyber-cat got yer glossa?" He laughs when twirling the blades around and steps toward the open door with a little dance to his step.

"Hope y’all have a mighty fine day, ya hear?" The Combaticon spins around to give the two Autobots a bow before taking his leave.

Now to find a way out of this place.