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#I’m forgetting the rest of the fandoms I’ve been in
pandalexoxo · 3 days
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OKAY BEAR WITH ME Y’ALL. I HAVEN’T PLAYED THE GAME SO I’M JUST GOING OFF OF SOME TIRED OLD MAN TROPES.
FRANCIS MOSES x READER
also, i haven’t written down any of my rules, but i don’t have any limits! i’ll write whatever requests people send me! whatever your dark mind can think of will be my pleasure to create!
i don’t mind if you’re not 18+, since, if i ever do make smut i’ll just label it as 18+ and TRUST that 18+ ONLY will read. you all have probably seen, but i’ve just written about my thoughts of different fandoms so far so there’s no 18+ posts YET. (maybe i’ll make this account SFW and do another for NSFW? idk, i normally post on other platforms but randomly decided to give tumblr a try lol)
as a NM/trans man myself, i TRY to keep my readers gender neutral by not really describing the characters features. hard on TRY bc i know the last blurb fic i made of dead plate was Rody x Male Reader lol, oopsies! anywhooo, enjoy~!
WARNINGS! doppleganger mention, possible unconsciousness, possible death, possible unfunny dialogue (bc sometimes i’m the only one who finds me hilarious lmfao), you’re kinda a baddie ngl, you and Francis are besties, Francis is a cat lover?! Francis is a tired old man who hates technology. phone mentioned despite the first wireless phone being made 23 years after the story takes place (use your imagination) uhhh, anything else i forget? comment below!
Francis let out a long sigh of relief, taking his cap off with one hand, using the other to dab away at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. Upon seeing the exhausted man, you can’t help but smile softly, shaking your head as you get ready to scold him, once again. You cross your arms, looking at him through the window with a playful disappointed glare.
“mhm mhm, what do we have here? you really should be getting more sleep, mr. milkman, your eyes are starting to sport their own eye bags.”
with this comment, Francis shakes his head but is unable to stop the small, yet tired smile on his face. he bends down to place the crate of milk jugs onto the floor before handing over his ID card. you hum, narrowing your eyes when Francis doesn’t give into your whims. you eye his card, glancing at it a few times before slipping it back to him with a chuckle.
Francis’s eyebrow raises in confusion at your reaction but ends up shaking his head, rolling his eyes playfully and sighing softly. he places his cap back on his head and huffs, deeming your reaction as a go ahead inside.
“now… what if i was a doppelganger? you aren’t even going to call my room to check if someone is there? such a reliable doorman we have.”
despite Francis’s playful tone, your grin slips into a frown as you study Francis from behind the glass. this causes him to tense up, suddenly feeling nervous, like he did something wrong. you hum, tilting your head into your palm as you seemingly analyze Francis for a little while before deciding to speak.
“what’s up brother?”
Francis blinks a few times in surprise, his head tilting in confusion at your question. His eyes narrow as he thinks about the question you asked.
“what’s… up… brother…?”
Francis looks up at the ceiling, taking your question to heart. upon seeing nothing on the ceiling, Francis can only shake his head and sigh at your antics.
“are you done with your tomfoolery, (Y/n)? i’m quite exhausted and would like to go up to my room and rest.”
you can only shake your head, clasping your hands together like a disappointed father getting ready to discuss their kids grades at the dinner table. you begin to explain.
“when Francis first walks in here, he always forgets one of three things… his keys, his hate or the crate of milk. you came in here, although exhausted, you seemed put together, unlike Francis, who is clearly going through a midlife crisis. Francis will then ask me about my cat, well, because he’s a cat person, though he insists no one knows. oh, and, Francis’s home phone has been broken for the past few days and is actually at the store, right now. so, Francis being here so soon, isn’t possible. that, and, well, Francis never understands my references, but indulges me anyway… anything else i forgot, doppelganger?”
you bat your eyelashes, smirking from behind the window like you just cracked down the traitor in your group. with each statement, Francis’s doppelgänger’s face becomes visibly more and more angry until the doppelganger begins to completely change: black eyes with white pupils, a wide and eerie black mouth, adorned with long and sharp claws on the end of the doppleganger’s elongated limbs.
“you… you’ll regret this… i will get in one day and get my feast, starting with you. i’ll gut you, keep you alive so you can watch your organs fall out of your body and your blood splatter against-! *CLANK! BAM! PLINK!*”
before the doppelganger could finish his fantasy, much to your amusement, the doppleganger’s body tenses upon being struck before crumpling to the floor after becoming unconscious. you look up from the doppleganger’s body to see the real Francis hovering above the possibly dead doppelganger. you shrug, knowing that you wouldn’t have to call DDD services to take care of the mess, now you just have to clean up the body.
“mmm… tuesday… tuesday…? did i get that right?”
you hold back a chuckle at Francis’s response to your last question. you can only nod, letting Francis have the win this time. pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing, a loud laugh bubbles up from your throat as the two of you realized what Francis had hit the doppelganger with.
“ngh… i just bought this phone, damnit… his hard head must have broken it.”
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quillsandtypos · 10 months
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Hello my lovely chickadees!!
I’m considering a brief return of writing on here, but I need some help. I’ve written for a couple of different fandoms across the years, and I would like to write a little something this week, but I have no idea what I’m feeling at the moment.
I make no promises as to how much I will churn out, but if anyone has been dying to send in requests for something then I can see what I can do!
Of course, no one is under any obligation to send in anything, but I thought I’d throw the offer out there!
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fumifooms · 2 months
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thanks for infecting me with marchil its so so fun to just see them pair themselves up in the background now
especially love how much she picks him up like a cat (and when he has the opportunity to do it to her too he just lugs her around like a sack of oats) gosh i love them they're so funny
YAAAAAA 🎉🎉 I’m so glad to hear it welcome to the sillies corner 🤝
THEY’RE SOOO SO FUNNY
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
They’re worsties that cannot get enough of each other
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arecaceae175 · 3 months
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In response to the Linked Universe patreon:
I am in full support of it. I’m so happy Jojo has taken this step because she has provided us with years and years of completely free content and I want to be able to give back!
I’m also happy she is still going to post the updates on tumblr. That way people who can’t or don’t want to subscribe to the patreon can still see the updates!
I’ve seen a lot of people worried about fandom division, and that’s been on my mind too. So I wanted to share my plan: I am not going to post anything on tumblr about new updates until the updates are released here. No one share anything about extra sketches that are just for patreon or repost them because that is stealing and wrong.
To be able to still capture the adrenaline rush of new updates and sharing my thoughts, I am going to write my thoughts in a tumblr post and save it in my drafts until the updates are released on tumblr. That way, the fandom will still have the special feeling of screaming about the updates with each other :D
Since Jojo isn’t very active on tumblr anymore, it’s easy to forget she’s just a person. She’s a Zelda fan just like the rest of us. We shouldn’t bring negativity to her posts any more than we would another smaller comic creator. If you want to talk about any negative feelings you have regarding this decision, the reblogs or comments of her post are absolutely not the place to do that. Jojo absolutely has the right to ask for payments for her content, and she will still be giving it to tumblr for free! You will not be losing your comic.
I will admit I have been guilty of this kind of thing too. Since LU is so big, it’s easy to treat it as source material and do things like post screenshots without credit. I have been working on doing better about that- I have gone back and added (Photo Credit to linkeduniverse) with a proper tag on all screenshot posts I’ve made. And I am trying to not do things like that in the future. That will include not sharing patreon content anywhere else.
So yeah. I am happy to be able to support Jojo and I am still hopeful for the fandom. :D
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senseless-writing · 2 years
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All Over Again
Pairing: Austin Butler x reader
Summary: It wasn’t Austin’s talent or looks that reminded Priscilla the most of her husband. It was his undeniable adoration for the woman he loved. 
Warnings: Painful reminiscing?
 A/N: This request smacked me in the face, and all of a sudden it was fully written! Love it when that happens. Also, I’m aware Priscilla never actually visited the set of “Elvis” (from what I gathered through interviews and such), so you’ll have to use a bit of imagination with this one. Hope you like it!
If you would like to be added to any of my tag lists (I’ve got a general tag list, along with specific ones for each fandom I’ve written for thus far), plz leave me a comment or ask and let me know which one!
Masterlist
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Priscilla was used to seeing her husband wherever she went. 
Not just in her daughter, or the grandchildren Lisa Marie gave her. There were so many other reminders. It seemed as if the whole world was as desperate as she was to fill the Elvis-sized whole in their hearts. She heard his voice over every loudspeaker, saw his eyes in every magazine, and felt his presence anywhere that reminded her of the things that brought him joy. 
It was lonely sometimes, being the only one who understood him in that way. Even lonelier once he left this Earth for good. But Priscilla was used to it by now, and even found solace in seeing parts of the heart she left behind still reflected in the world around her. 
So no, it didn’t surprise her to see Elvis in the eyes of another. 
However, she wasn’t so accustomed to seeing herself. 
At least, not in that way. Sure, people dressed up as her, which was always sort of awkwardly flattering. And once they started casting for the biopic surrounding her husband's life, Priscilla was shocked to meet someone like Olivia, who captured her essence to a tee. That was difficult to explain, and even more difficult to understand. But nothing compared to meeting Y/n. Or, rather, meeting Y/n with Austin. 
She first realized it at Graceland. It was the place where Priscilla felt the most safe, loved, and 100% connected to her husband. It was only right that this was where she would meet the people in charge of telling his story. She greeted them at the front of the house, and it was only then that she took note of someone new. 
“And you are?” she turned her gaze to the woman in between Baz and Austin. Surely this wasn’t Olivia? Priscilla had never been so forgetful with a face. 
The woman shuffled where she stood and fought the urge to duck her head. Priscilla then noticed Austin’s hand resting gently on her lower back.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Presley. I’m Y/n, Austin’s girlfriend, and a huge fan of your family and your husband's work. They said it would be okay if I tagged along for the tour.” 
Priscilla smiled warmly and took Y/n’s hands in her own. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf. The older woman knew what it was like to be dragged along by your star of a man to places you felt you didn’t belong, drowning underneath the pressure of trying to fit in. The sight was so symmetric, it almost froze her in her tracks. 
“Call me Priscilla, dear. And you are more than welcome here,” she lead them all inside. “That’s how he always wanted it to be.” 
While walking through the door to what used to be her home, Priscilla watched the couple with something new shining behind her eyes. 
No. Not something new. Something painfully familiar. Something she thought she’d lost forever. 
She watched as Austin leaned down, his lips brushing gently against Y/n’s ear. “I told you, baby. It all worked out just fine.” 
Y/n bashfully smiled and turned to tuck her face, warm with embarrassment, against his chest. In response, Austin chuckled to himself and wrapped her in his arms, rubbing up and down, before giving her one good squeeze and letting go. She seemed better, then. Calmer, even with uncertainty still simmering on her skin. 
It was such a senseless interaction. One of little import to everyone but the two of them. And yet, Priscilla felt as if time itself was rolling backwards.
Memories of her 22nd birthday flashed through her mind. Walking down the stairs hand in hand with her husband, tucking herself in his arms to hide from the overwhelming amount of gifts, candy, and love he showered her with. 
It wasn’t a private moment, not with the entire Memphis Mafia there to watch. And this moment between Austin and Y/n wasn’t any more personal. But that didn’t matter to either couple. Not then, and certainly not now. Love truly was strong enough to blind all. 
The trio continued their way through the home with Priscilla as their own personal tour guide. Truth be told, that wasn’t at all what she came here for. But after meeting Y/n, she was desperate to continue learning more about the girl from afar. Watching her and Austin walk through her home together, smiling and holding each other close, was horrifying and peaceful all at the same time. 
Once in the living room, Priscilla decided to fall back from the group, allowing them to observe everything on their own. Austin ran his fingers gently across the keys of the piano, a sound that sent a shock down the older woman’s spine. And Y/n, with special permission of course, had settled comfortably on the white, plush love-seat. Her bright eyes were wide while scanning the room around her, but fluttered shut with a blissful sigh after hearing the music Austin was producing. Priscilla watched in real time as the young girl's whole world centered, if only for a moment, around the man she loved. 
She remembered that feeling. She remembered fleeting moments of alone time with her husband, who despite all the fame, money, and screaming fans, found the most serenity sitting at this piano. 
“You hear that, ‘Cilla?” he’d call out after finishing a song, the final notes of a gospel tune still echoing on the walls. 
Her eyes would open to see his awe-filled expression. “Hm?”
“That’s God’s voice, honey.” 
And she would turn to look at him with stars in her eyes. “I just hear yours.” 
Something would always flicker behind his gaze, then. Understanding, with a twinge of pride. Or rather, pride bathed in humility. After years of watching Elvis search for truth in religious texts and songs, she knew this expression well. “Sometimes, baby, I think they’re one in the same.” 
“Y/n?” 
Austin’s voice broke Priscilla from her reverie. She could daydream all she wanted, but hearing Elvis’s voice, in her own home, coming from the body of another was something she would never get used to. 
He was no longer playing the piano. Instead, he’d moved to stand directly behind Y/n’s chair, and was squeezing her shoulders gently to grab her attention. His girlfriend tilted her head back and opened her eyes with a smile. 
“Hey,” she whispered up at him. 
Austin’s eyes were full of admiration. “Hey, baby. Where’d you go?” 
“I just love listening to you play. This house feels so…ethereal.” 
“Hm,” he hummed in agreement, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s keep moving, yeah?” 
A quiet laugh fell from Y/n’s lips as she stood, accepting Austin’s hand and walking towards the next room. It was the kind of laugh where there wasn’t really anything funny, but joy was enough of a reason. Where happiness was a common occurrence, and blissful chuckles were the only way to truly express it. 
Oh, how it was to laugh because of love. Priscilla hadn’t realized how much she missed that. 
----------
She noticed it again during her visit to the set of the movie. 
Priscilla had been hesitant about visiting at first, what with the pandemic and all. And although she would never admit it to anyone, that wasn’t her only reason. She hadn’t yet decided how she felt about seeing her whole life be recreated for the big screen. 
But curiosity killed the cat. At the end of the day, the offer was too compelling to ignore. 
Olivia wasn’t there that day, which was both a blessing and a curse. Priscilla was certain that seeing a replica of herself from the ‘70s would be enough to scare her away for good. That time was…difficult. Still, that doesn’t mean a part of her wasn’t painfully interested. 
Despite it all, she was shocked to find herself enjoying her time on set. Everyone was so kind as Baz dragged her around, introducing her to them while explaining each intricate detail that went into telling her husband's story. 
God, seeing Austin in costume was something she truly wasn’t prepared for. It was like there was a ghost on set, smiling and charming the pants off everyone who dared to approach him. A sight straight out of the past, she was sure of it. Looking perfect in the ‘69 press conference outfit, Priscilla held back from walking up to him for fear of not knowing what to say. 
She just needed more time. 
It was a complete coincidence that Y/n was there as well. And again, Priscilla was overcome with the indescribable need to watch her. 
The girl sat in her boyfriend's chair, which said “Elvis” in big white letters on the back. Her legs were crossed, though she quickly uncrossed them, only to repeat the motion yet again. Clearly, she was nervous to be sitting there all alone. But before Priscilla could walk over and provide an easy distraction, Austin was already one step ahead. 
“Everything okay, darlin’?” he asked her in that voice that Priscilla knew so well. He placed either hand on the armrest of his chair, leaning forward until nothing else existed but the woman right in front of him. 
Y/n leaned back with an easy expression, nothing like how she looked only moments before. She was teasing, forcing him to come closer while her hands fiddled with the colored scarf around his neck. Her face was proof that she knew exactly what she was doing, and Austin ate it up. He was the moth to her flame. 
“All good here,” she reassured him. Her eyes ran up and down his towering form before meeting his gaze again with a knowing grin. “I think this one is definitely my favorite.” 
“Oh?” he mused. “This old thing?” 
“Never mind, I take it back.” 
Austin’s whole face shined when he smiled at her. “Nope! Too late, you already admitted to liking the look. No take backs!”
“It’s ‘cuz you look the most like yourself!” she protested with a groan. “I’ve seen you in fancy suits a hundred times. Sequined jumpsuits with capes, on the other hand…” 
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t mind if I grew out some sideburns?” 
Y/n’s expression fell to a deadpan. “Don’t you dare.” 
Austin’s laugh echoed across the room. His happiness was absolutely contagious, and anyone could see it. 
That was another thing the actor had in common with Priscilla’s husband. 
She watched him lean forward, whispering something in Y/n’s ear that Priscilla couldn’t hear. Her whole face relaxed into a gentle smile, her hands moving to the sides of his face to hold him close. When he was done, Austin pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, before leaving her to herself again. 
Priscilla was so caught in the moment, she didn't notice him making his way towards her until it was too late. 
“Priscilla,” he greeted her with a smile she’d seen a million times, but never on Austin’s face. “I’m so glad you were able to make it! How do you like everything so far?” 
She accepted the side hug he offered her. “I’m glad to be here. Though I must say, movie sets have changed so much over the past decades! I’m afraid I might get lost.” 
“Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes. You should see the ‘International’ set, it’s unbelievable.” 
Priscilla thought this man couldn’t possibly know how true that statement was. “Oh, that stage was…truly something special.” 
The conversation settled quietly after that, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. Priscilla wondered if the déjà vu would ever fade. 
“So you and Y/n,” she spoke after a moment. Austin’s gaze snapped to hers. “How long have you two been together?” 
His smile was so wide after just the mention of her name. “A little over a year.” 
“So it’s serious, then?” she mused with a knowing look. 
“Oh, definitely,” he answered quickly. “I…I really love her.” 
Austin shuffled awkwardly after the confession, and his eyes suddenly clouded with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, that was weird. You shouldn’t have to listen to me babble like a love sick puppy,” he chuckled. 
“No!” she reached out to rub his arm comfortingly. This may not be the man Priscilla loved, but it was someone who had dedicated the last three years of his life to honoring him. That automatically made him someone important to her. “Honestly, it’s a beautiful thing to love someone like that.” 
Priscilla hadn’t realized the confession was resting on the tip of her tongue until tears were welling in her eyes. 
“Priscilla?” Austin was immediately concerned. 
She shooed him away in an instant, clearing her throat before speaking. “I’m alright, dear. It’s just…” 
Priscilla swore it was her husband's eyes she was looking into at that moment. 
“...it’s just so nice to see that kind of love again.” 
Austin felt his whole chest cave in. With the breath suddenly knocked from his lungs, he wasn’t sure how to process what Priscilla had just admitted. Bringing Y/n here wasn’t meant to distress her in any way, and he felt horrible for whatever unwanted memories doing so might have brought up. 
And yet, he could see sentiment in her eyes. Austin knew she meant her confession in a good way. They were here to tell the story of her husband's life, and her own as an extension, so even Austin could admit he was proud to be able to reflect a piece of that in her eyes. But he hadn’t stopped to think about how it would make her feel. He was suddenly at a loss for words.
Priscilla noticed his spiral at once, and moved to hold his hands in her own. “Cherish it, Austin,” she spoke with the most serious tone he’d ever heard. “I mean that. Most people never find it for themselves.” 
Austin’s eyes were full of understanding. “I will.” 
But Priscilla wasn’t done. “Elvis and I,” she broke off with a sigh. “We made so many mistakes. So many.” 
Their relationship wasn’t perfect. Elvis wasn’t perfect, and Priscilla would no longer allow herself to believe in that delusion. 
Their life wasn’t perfect. But it had been their own. And in times like this one, she missed it more than anything. 
Priscilla squeezed Austin’s hands to emphasize her point. “I don't think things could have been any different for us,” she said without an ounce of regret in her voice. “But I hope they can be different for you.” 
Her smile reached her ears as she continued. “After this movie, everything is going to change for you. I just know it. But you need to prioritize this. What you have, right here, with that beautiful girl. Don’t ever let that change.” 
It was Austin, now, who had tears in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words to express the gratitude he felt towards her. But when Baz made the announcement that cameras were ready for shooting, he suddenly found himself out of time. 
“Go,” she urged him forward. “They’re ready for you, hun.” 
He shook his head, squeezed her hands, and smiled with his whole face. “Thank you, Priscilla. Just…thank you. For everything.”
Priscilla noticed his gaze sway to Y/n after walking away, even with his direction set towards all the cameras. She watched their eyes meet, and noticed the way they relaxed underneath each other's gaze. Two hearts, one soul, and a lifetime of love between them. 
Austin and Y/n were proof, if anything, that history has a way of repeating itself. At least, it was all the proof Priscilla needed. She could only hope her cautionary words were enough to break the cycle she and Elvis created all those years ago. 
And she hoped, more than anything, that this couple got the ending they deserved.
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yourgentlegirlfriend · 9 months
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death island leon headcannons with his s/o??
HI babies, I’ve been trying to like keep up with requests and such and i stg i have had so much writing inspiration that i start writing to many things at once.
Here are some DI!Leon s/o headcanons!!
DISCLAIMER!! this is 18+ ONLY, please do not interact with my blog if you are underaged or don’t have age indicator in your bio!! thank you!!
DI!Leon x GN reader
not spell checked i’m sorry 💔
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- He is DEFINITELY sleepy all the time. Finally getting to see him after work always gets you so excited, rambling on about something you saw at the store today and when you turn the corner, you see him slouched on the couch, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open STILL in his work clothes.
- Before he crashed the bike, he actually really did love it. You’d open the garage to the door to see him inside, focused as all hell on god knows what
“You touch that bike more than you touch me”
you’d joke, hand on your hip as you leaned against the door frame. Leon would just look over at you, rolling his eyes playfully before finally coming back inside with you.
- Likes to act like he isn’t aging, though he is in absolutely perfect shape he often forgets he needs to take medication after his missions or his body will be sore. So when you walk into the room, your hand holding up the small pill bottle with his name on it
“Wasn’t given to you for no reason.”
“I’m fine.”
He would protest, going to sit up trying to hide the groan from the stretching in his lower back.
- He loves you more than anything. He makes that very clear when the two of you go basically anywhere. Anything you laid your eyes on in the store would be yours, anything you touched.
Your fingers rubbing at the petal of a flower, Leon’s eyebrows raising as he reaches over you and shoves the potted plant into the cart. And even when you argue he isn’t here for it at all.
- He’s not a very physically affectionate man, he hates PDA almost 50% of the time but sometimes when the two of you start your way into a crowd his fingers slyly wrap around your waist or grab at your hand.
- VERY overprotective, he’s so afraid of losing you but he would never admit it ever. When he found out about how you and your ex broke up he swore if he ever saw them, they were dead. He doesn’t mean it though, he knows that when he gets frustrated or anything around you, you get worried about him.
- Bed time is always the same every night, you always fall asleep first that’s just how you are. He sneaks in beside you, his nose resting against the back of your head as he pulls you into him, instant relief washing over him when you push yourself back into him.
NSFW WARNING
- Everytime he returns from a mission you know what it means. He comes home so frustrated that not everything works out his way, so he takes out all his frustrations on you.
Soft groans leaving his lips as his strong hands leave red finger print indents in your waist, your breath heavy as he fucks you into the soft mattress.
- He likes to pretend he’s “normal” but you can feel his steady rhythm suddenly stutter when you let out a whimper of his name.
- Aftercare with him is perfect, his fingers playing with your hair as the two of you just stare at the ceiling. It’s perfect till he says something corny like
“So the weather today”
And he thinks it’s so funny, but you just burst out laughing, his arms squeezing you as a smile spreads across his face.
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I hope you guys are doing great, for all of my readers starting a new college semester GOOD LUCK. You’re gonna do great! I love you all :))
For a limited time i’m doing paid requests and will write anything from ocs to different fandoms for any price, my job cut my hours and i’m SO behind on bills. :) click here if interested!!
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sara-scribbles · 11 months
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The Littlest Dragon (Part 3)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 5,482 Notes: So, I wrote this with the idea that there's still room to grow in regards to relationships. This is the last part, so enjoy! Warnings: None
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
“I’ll let my grandson show you around. But we must have tea tomorrow.” With a wave of her hand, she dismisses the two of you.
You follow Malleus through the rose garden. “Is she…is she always like that?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.
He takes your hand as he answers. “She can be…eccentric. She’s a wise and kind ruler, but grandmother has always had her own ways of doing things.”
There are many twists and turns to the rose garden. “She wasn’t serious, right?” He raises an eyebrow. “That I should call her grandmother?”
“Once she’s made up her mind, it’s best to just go along with it.” He holds your hand gently. “Don’t worry. She likes you almost as much as I do.”
“She called me adorable…” you mumble. Perhaps she sees you as a cute little human. Though you can only assume everyone looks little to her. She even towers over Malleus.
Malleus chuckles. “Do you take offense to that?”
“No… I just haven’t been called adorable before.” Shaking your head, you shift the conversation to the roses. “These are beautiful. There’s so many too!”
Pausing, he reaches out to gently touch a rose. “Can you believe these started out as a handful of seeds? I’ve taken care of them for so long, I almost forget how barren the garden used to be.”
“You did all this?” Eyebrows shoot up. “That’s amazing! I can’t imagine the time and dedication this would take.”
Turning to you, he asks, “Do you like roses?”
“Sure. I think they’re beautiful .” Shrugging, you reach out to touch a rose. The petals are like velvet against your fingers.
“Do you have a particular flower you like?” he probes further.
The entire garden smells of the soft rose scent. “Not really. I mean I’ve never given it much thought. There are so many flowers, how can I pick just one?”
“Hmm… I see.” He thoughtfully looks at the roses. Finally he turns back to you. “Shall I show you the rest of the castle?”
“Lead the way!” Giving his hand a squeeze, you meet his affectionate gaze with a dazzling grin.
---
Standing in the guest room alone, your eyes are still wide with shock. The place is much larger than your own cottage. You're pretty sure you could fit five cottages in the room. After Malleus had shown you around the castle, complete with the history, he dropped you off at the guest room. He promised to let you know when dinner would be served.
Feeling completely out of depth, you wonder if you’ve packed the right clothes to have dinner in a castle. Probably not. You’re almost too afraid to touch anything in case you break something. However, the large bed looks so inviting, you can’t resist.
Kicking off your shoes, you launch yourself onto the bed with a laugh. The moment your body touches the sheets, you never want to get up. The silky sheets and soft mattress is heaven on earth. Letting out a deep sigh, you’re tempted to fall asleep.
But first, you need to unpack and get into something for dinner.
You’re changed when someone knocks on the door. When you open the door, you’re not met with Malleus. Instead, a fae with magenta streaks in his dark black hair smiles back at you. “Hoho, I finally get to meet the famous potion master!” he chortles.
“Uh…”
“I’m Lilia, Malleus’s caretaker of sorts.” He heartily shakes your hand. “Well, let’s get going. Don’t want to leave the queen waiting.”
As you follow him through the halls, you ask, “So you’ve been taking care of Malleus since he was young?”
“That’s right! I remember like it was yesterday when he had an egg shell stuck on his face.” He briefly touches the tips of his hair. “You know, once he set my hair on fire by accident.”
“Really?” It’s hard to imagine him doing anything like that.
He leads you down a flight of stairs. “He was young, so he didn’t have much control over himself. I’ll have to show you some pictures later if you’re interested.”
The idea of seeing pictures of a baby Malleus does pique your interest. “I’d like to.”
“Wonderful!” Clapping his hands together, he stops in front of a door. “I have to go get Mallues, but enjoy your chat with the queen.”
“W-wait! Alone?” He’s gone before you can protest. Standing in front of the door, you wonder if you can just sneak off for a bit until Malleus comes. You’re not prepared to speak with her alone.
“Please come in, (Y/N).” Her voice rings loud and clear despite the closed door.
Swallowing nervously, you slip inside. The queen sits at the head of the very long banquet table. You notice some fae standing off to the side. One directs you to the seat on her left. The seat to her right is set but empty.
She smiles widely when you meet her gaze. “I thought we could talk while Lilia fetches my grandson. The palace is quite large, so it might take them some time. You don’t mind, do you?”
You feel heat prickling along your neck. “O-of course no-not, your highness.” She gives you a sharp look. “...grandmother.” 
A pleased smile falls on her lips. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“Myself?” You uselessly point to yourself.
She nods. “Yes. My grandson has told me all about you. But I want to hear it from you.”
“Um, well… I run make potions for clients who send requests. I also sell them in town to the general store. I was taught to make potions by Divus Crewel. Uh, I live in a cottage outside of town with three chickens and a goat.”
She drums her fingers on the table. You notice the wicked looking nails. “Tell me, do you enjoy making potions?”
“Yes, I do.” You answer without hesitation.
Her keen eyes watch you closely. “Why?
You blink a few times. It’s been awhile since someone’s asked you that question. “ I know those without magic can have fine lives, but I wanted to do more. I decided that if I can’t cast spells, I wanted to make potions. For me, making potions is like casting a spell, it can do just about anything. And if what I create can help someone, that’s even better.”
She regards you quietly. You’re unsure what else to say. “I see. Your honesty is refreshing. I was half expecting you to spout some noble reason. My grandson has chosen well. You have a good heart, I can tell.”
“Th-thank you.” Her praise is honestly a little embarrassing.
She sighs. “Seems our little chat has to be cut short.” The doors to the dining hall open, and Malleus strolls in. He glances between you and his grandmother. “Malleus, we’ve been waiting for you.”
His eyes narrow. “Lilia informed me dinner was running behind…”
She feigns ignorance. “Really? Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”
He takes the seat across from you. “I hope grandmother wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” His gaze softens when he looks at you.
“Nonsense! I was just telling your friend how wonderful I think they are.” She grins, flashing her sharp teeth.
You give him a small reassuring smile. There’s not much else you can say as the food quickly arrives.
“Do you always eat like that?” you ask Malleus. You're almost close to bursting. Everything was delicious of course, but by the time dessert arrived, you were ready to pass out.
After bidding the queen a goodnight, the two of you leave the dining hall. With your arm looped through his, Malleus guides you back to the garden. “Tonight was a special occasion, so the cooks made a little extra.”
“A little?” You don’t want to imagine what a lot would look like. “Hey, where are we going?”
Though dark, magical lamps float around to light to way. “I wanted to show you my favorite spot.”
The air is cool but pleasant. You’re not too concerned about where Malleus is taking you. You trust him. Winding through the garden, the bright moon shines a spotlight. It almost feels magical. Malleus leads you out of the garden bounds and deeper into the woods that surround this side of the castle. Everything here is overgrown and wild. You come to a clearing with a large, clear lake.
In the distance the crickets chirp and frogs call to each other. The moon reflects on the lake making the water glimmer. “Wow…” You’re in awe at the natural wonder. 
Sitting at the edge of the lake together, your feet hang off the edge. “It’s been abandoned for years, so no one comes.”
You find yourself leaning into his side. “Do you come here a lot?”
“It’s quiet and peaceful.” Sitting there staring at the lake, you can almost forget everything else. Malleus hums a tune under his breath.
The yawn you’ve been trying to suppress manages to escape. He chuckles. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
“Shall we return to the castle?” Nodding, you take his offered hand.
---
The next day, you’re woken with knocking. Lilia is there once more with a bright smile. “The queen would like to have breakfast with you.”
“Oh, okay. Um, let me get dressed.” You wonder how early, or late, it is. You slept like a rock.
Once you’re properly dressed, you meet Lilia outside the room. He leads you to the garden, easily navigating the castle’s twists and turns. “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asks.
“Yes. It was all very delicious!” Your stomach grumbles at the thought of breakfast.
“You should try my cooking one of these days. I’d love to share a meal,” he offers. His eyes seem to glimmer at the idea.
Nodding, you offer him a tentative smile. “That would be nice.”
His smile widens. “I’ll hold you to that!”
You arrive in the garden where the queen waits. She greets you the moment you arrive. “Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”
Taking a seat, you find yourself trying to straighten your posture. “Yes. Everything was so nice,” you lie. How can you tell her that you barely got any sleep? Even though everything about the bed should have sent you to dream land, you spent most of the night tossing and turning.
She chuckles. “Lovely.” Turning to Lilia, her mouth curls upward. “Please get my grandson, Lilia.”
“Of course, your majesty.” He gives a bow before leaving.
The queen returns her attention to you. “While Lilia fetches Malleus, why don’t we talk some more. I’m sure you have a few questions.”
Fiddling with the napkin in your lap, there are a few things that have been nagging you. “So, I was told the reason Malleus was in that form was because of a punishment?”
“Yes,” she sighs, “sometimes punishments are necessary. He was neglecting his duties as prince and future king. Despite my repeated warnings, he continued to wander off for hours on end.”
“Wasn’t there anything less…extreme you could’ve done?” you ask. “I mean, he did get kidnapped by a demon bird and hurt,” you point out.
She takes a sip of her tea before continuing. “Not to worry, dear, I knew where he was at all times. And if I hadn’t punished him like I did, you wouldn’t be sitting here. That would be such a shame…”
As food is placed on the table, you glance around for Malleus. He still hasn’t arrived. “I guess something good came out of it,” you mumble. You can feel her sharp gaze on you. “…did the spell do anything else?”
She ponders for a moment. “Hmm… It did limit his ability to use magic as well as reduce his cognitive functions to more simple, basic instincts. But nothing else. Of course, his magic was already working on breaking the curse from the inside when you encountered him.”
“Is that why he was so affectionate? He was always asking to be held or cuddled…” you muse aloud. You remember all the times he would cuddle with you or beg for your attention in dragon form. You just thought he was naturally affectionate. However, Malleus as he is now isn’t as touchy though he does like to hold your hand.
The queen laughs, head thrown back. The gold chains in her horns jingle as they shake. “My, that's a site I’d like to see!” She shakes her head as her body shakes. “I can only guess that part of it was due to the spell. However, Malleus is very fond of you, so I believe he wanted to express his feelings in some way..”
Your face warms at her words. It’s odd hearing that from his grandmother, and she seems to approve. Yet, you haven’t really heard the words from Malleus’s mouth. You wonder if you ever will. Or will you continue to stay in this strange not-quite-something limbo?
Her features shift into a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Malleus,” the queen greets. He easily slides into the seat next to you.
“Good morning, grandmother. It seems I’m late for breakfast this time.” He gives her a pointed look, but she ignores it.
She takes another sip of tea. “Perhaps you should go to bed earlier so you’re not late next time?”
He can only sigh.
---
Malleus leads you to the training grounds. As you approach, you can hear the clang of metal. Silver and Sebek are sparring in the ring. You stand at the edge watching them. 
“Why do they train with swords if they can use magic?” you inquire. They both move quickly back and forth.
“Because it’s good to train all muscles, physical and magical,” comes a voice from above you. 
Jumping, you jerkily look up to see Lilia floating upside down. He gives a wave. “Oh! I didn’t see you…” Your heart nearly lept out of your chest.
He descends back down to the ground. “I saw you two coming down the path a while ago. Finally introducing me to your friend, Malleus?” He lightly elbows Malleus in the side.
“Lilia, this is (Y/N).” He gestures between you two. “Lilia has been my caretaker since I was born.”
You shake hands. He has a strong grip for someone his size. “It’s nice to officially be introduced.” Despite his youthful appearance, you wonder, for the third time since meeting him, how old he actually is. If he’s been taking care of Malleus since birth, he must be over a few hundred years old. Your head spins just thinking about it.
“Do you know how to fight?” Lilia asks suddenly.
“No, I never really found the need to. I stay close to the village, the cottage, or the nearby woods.” Life has always been somewhat uneventful. “My two friends know how to fight since they go out adventuring.”
He eyes your form. “Hmmm… I think you could handle a sword. Would you like to learn?”
Eyes widening, you look at Malleus. He looks calm as ever. “I-I never thought about it. Um, maybe?” It wouldn’t hurt to know how to defend yourself.
“Alright. Later, I’ll teach you how to wield a sword.” He points at the two still sparring. “They need to cool down first.”
The two come to a draw. As they wipe the sweat from their forehead, they finally seem to notice you. Sebek immediately rushes over. “Lord Malleus! Forgive me ignorance, I didn't realize you were here!” He bows a few times.
“It’s okay, Sebek. I was just showing (Y/N) around.” He rests a hand on your shoulder. You unconsciously lean into him.
Sebek’s brows knit together as he straightens up. “I see…” You can see him biting his tongue. Probably doesn’t want to yell at you in front of his prince.
Silver joins while handing Sebek a bottle of water. “Stay hydrated.”
You smile brightly. “Hello, Silver,” you greet. He is the nicer of the two.
“Oh, hello, (Y/N).” He gives you a brief nod. “Fath-Lilia, what else are we doing today?”
The shorter fae glances up at the sky. “We’ll take a break for today. I can make lunch!” Both men visibly blanch. You feel Malleus stiffen as the hand on your shoulder briefly tightens. “I promised to make something for (Y/N),” he continues, not noticing the sudden change in demeanor.
Malleus quickly butts in. “Actually, we have plans…”
“What a shame. Next time?” Lilia sighs, shaking his head sadly. “Guess that means more for you two!”
Before you can say anything else, Malleus quickly guides you away. You briefly see the pleading looks from the other two. Once you’re far enough away, Malleus relaxes. “You don’t want to eat Lilia’s food. It can fell even the mightiest of beasts,” he informs you.
“Oh…” You just escaped possible death it seems.
---
Night time falls quickly and you share another meal with the queen. You’re laying in bed staring at the ceiling. Unable to sleep, you roll over on your side. The curtains are drawn back, and you can see the large moon hanging in the sky. It’s strange not making potions or picking up ingredients. You almost feel like you’re wasting time.
There’s a soft knock on the door that has you sitting up. You wait a few seconds and there’s another knock. Slipping out of bed, you open the door a crack to Malleus standing there. “Malleus? Is something wrong?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was wondering if you’d like to talk like we did before?” You can hear the hopeful tinge in his tone.
You fully open the door and gesture for him to come in. “Sure. I couldn’t sleep either actually.” Sitting down on the plush carpet, you lean against the side of the bed. Malleus joins without complaint.
There’s a pause before he asks, “How are you liking your stay so far?”
You grin. “No complaints! The food is delicious, the accommodations are really nice. And I’m enjoying the time I get to spend with you. Your grandmother is also really something.”
“But?” He can see right through you.
Sighing, you lean your head on his shoulder. “But I do miss home. I know I’ve only been away for two days, but I just miss it.”
“I can take you back if you want. I don’t want you to be unhappy here,”he says while reaching for your hand. He laces his finger with yours.
“I’m not unhappy, Malleus. Just a little homesick.” You give his hand a squeeze.
He hums. “I can understand that…”
There’s a heavy silence between you two. You don’t want to leave, but you also can’t shake the feeling of wanting to go home. “Malleus?”
“Hmm?”
You sit up in order to look him fully in the eyes. “Would you like to go back with me for a bit? I know I was supposed to stay here for a week or so, but how about you stay with me for a little? Now that you’re no longer in dragon form, I can take you around town, and you can officially meet my friends.”
“You truly wish to introduce me?” He blinks a few times.
“Of course! I met your friends and family. It’s only fair if you meet mine. I want you to meet them since you’re…you’re special to me, Malleus.”
Lips pulling into a smile, his sharp teeth glint in the moonlight. “Thank you. You are special to me as well.”
---
“Young master, please let me come with you!” Sebek begs. You can see the tears in his eyes.
The next day, Malleus had informed everyone he would be returning home with you. The queen immediately gave her blessing. You’re surprised she’s willing to let him go since he’d technically be neglecting his duties. You do stay for a most of the day before preparing to leave.
Lilia chuckles as he side-steps the prostrating half-fae. “Have fun, you two. Ah, to be young…!” He claps Malleus on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll be okay.”
“We look forward to your return,” Silver says with a bow.
The queen leans over and whispers something in his ear. His eyes widen a fraction before he composes himself. She laughs and presses a kiss on the top of his head. “Take care, my dear.”
Malleus gives them one last farewell before walking over to where you’re waiting. He wraps his arms around your form. “Hold on tight.” Even as you’re teleported away, you can hear Sebek’s cries.
Eyes adjusting to the light, you’re standing in front of the gate to the cottage. “I think I’m getting used to that,” you mumble, still trying to clear your head. You can feel Malleus hovering in concern, but quickly reassure him you’re fine. “Well, at least the cottage is still standing…”
Walking through the gate, the three hens are there to greet you. They loudly cluck around your feet. “Hello, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather,” Malleus greets with a slight incline of his head. The three leave you to flock around his feet.
“Seems they like you. Maybe they remember you from before,” you comment with a chuckle.
The door of the cottage opens as Ace steps out. “Oi! Why are you making so much noise-...!” His eyes widen when he sees you. “What are you doing here?!”
“Nice to see you too, Ace,” you comment dryly.
“Ace, don't be mean to the chickens!” Deuce comes rushing out but knocks into Ace. “Ooomf!” He stumbles back a bit before glowing at the redhead. “Hey, wha-...!”
“Hey you!” You wave. Dumbfounded, the two are speechless for once. You notice their gaze is squarely focused behind you.
Malleus is busy petting Philis on the head while murmuring something to her. He glances over when the silence stretches. “Are we going in?” he inquires.
“Yeah. I need to unpack.” Malleus gives Philips one last pat before following you. You lead him by the hand past the two still gawking. “The inside doesn’t look bad either,” you note after doing a quick look.
You set down your bag on a chair. “Are you two going to stand outside all day?”
Breaking out of their stupor, they shuffle inside. They each give Malleus a hesitant look before looking back at you. “Y-your back early,” Deuce comments, finally.
“I missed home. And I thought it would be nice for Malleus to meet you two. You know since the last time you saw him he was smaller.” You look at them expectantly.
Ace blurts out, “You tried to roast us alive! Twice!”
Letting out a deep sigh, you pinch the bride of your nose. “I apologize for that,” Malleus says. “I was not fully myself at the time. I was only trying to protect (Y/N).”
“I’m pretty sure the second time was because you call him fat,” Deuce mutters.
You steer the conversation away from roasting. “Anyways, that’s all water under the bridge. I’m going to put my things away, so I’ll be right back.”
You ignore their protests. Up in your room, you unpack all your clean clothes before storing them away. The clothes you did wear are tossed in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Standing in the middle of your room, you let out a satisfied sigh. It might not be as grand as the guest room you stayed in, but it’s your place. 
Back downstairs, it’s dead silent. The two sit on the couch ramrod straight. Malleus is perched on the other chair staring at them. “Did I miss some riveting conversation?” you tease. 
Malleus shakes his head. “Your friends seem a bit…intimidated by me.” He turns to them with a frown on his lips. “I do apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable. I sometimes have that effect on people…”
Rolling your eyes, you give the two a look. “He’s not going to roast you.”
“He’s a prince!” Deuce squeaks out.
Ace is bewildered at your nonchalance. “Dude, he’s fucking royalty and you’re just…just you!?”
“Hmm?” Malleus tilts his head to the side. “If you want, you can think of me as just another fae. Since we are not in Briar Valley, my title should not matter. Right?”
“...”
“...”
Walking over, you bop the two over the head. “Give them a day, and they’ll get over it,” you tell him. “Why don’t you two head back to the guild? I’ll bring Malleus by tomorrow.”
The two leave while casting one last glance behind them. Closing the door, you let out a sigh. “Well…that went about how I expected.” Shaking your head once more, you aren’t too surprised at how they acted. “Do you want something to eat?”
Thankfully the fridge is stocked. You notice a box from the local bakery. “That explains why there’s food,” you mumble to yourself. Trey must have dropped by to make sure everything was okay. You’re glad you had the foresight to ask him.
“Can I help?” Malleus asks.
Grabbing a few things to prepare a meal, you hand them to Malleus. As you prepare dinner, Malleus follows your instructions. It’s almost like those times he would help you set the table when in dragon form. Though, it is quicker having an extra pair of actual hands. Dinner is nowhere near as grand as you had with his grandmother. But Malleus seems just as happy to be eating the smaller meal.
Now the only issue at hand is where he’ll sleep. The couch looks woefully small now that you’re looking at it. Sure Ace and Deuce have crashed on the couch in the past, but they’re not as tall as Malleus.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask, holding out an extra blanket.
“Of course.” He takes the blanket from you along with his specialized pillow. “I don’t require much sleep, so I may spend time in the garden out back.”
“Alright…” You hesitate but he doesn’t seem bothered. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night, (Y/N).” You give him one last look before heading upstairs.
Sleep eludes you once more. Though it’s your bed, you can’t seem to get comfortable. Perhaps it’s due to a certain someone downstairs sleeping on an ill-sized couch. Thinking back to when you used to snuggle with Malleus in dragon form, he was like a warm pack. There was something comforting in having him curled against you.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, you get out of bed. You grab a sweater from your closet. Heading downstairs, Malleus is not on the couch. You head to the garden in the back. He’s sitting on the bench looking up at the sky. He turns as you come closer.
Brows creasing, he moves over. “Can you not sleep?” Sitting down, you scoot closer to him. Malleus immediately wraps his arms around your form. You lean against him with a smile.
“Yeah… It seems I haven’t been able to sleep well for a few days.” Really if you think about it, you haven’t slept well since he left. However, you ignored the thought in favor of going about your daily life. But it seems the lack of good sleep is finally catching up.
He’s silent as you close your eyes. The night is filled with different sounds. “I could not sleep either,” he confesses after a while.
“Hmm?”
“It seems I have gotten used to sleeping next to you. Fae don’t need much sleep, but even the little I do require has been fitful,” he continues. “I miss your warmth. There was a sense of comfort being in your arms.”
Your heart thuds loudly. He says all this without a hint of embarrassment. You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you keep quiet. “You know, my grandmother said something interesting before I left.”
“Oh?” You do recall the slight surprise in his expression.
His hand, which had been tracing patterns on your arm, stills. “She said that I shouldn’t let you go.”
Your breath hitches. “...”
He chuckles. “I agree with her on that. You know what they say about dragons and how they’re greedy creatures. I want to keep you all to myself.”
Sitting up so you can look at him fully, you're taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. “Malleus…” You break eye contact, unable to hold it. You remember wondering if you’d ever leave that strange limbo of not being quite something with him. 
He holds out his hand. “I have a gift for you. May I?” You give him your hand without hesitation. Holding your hand palm side up, he pulls something from his pocket. A small round device is placed in your hand.
Your brows furrow as you inspect the device. You recognize it as one of the old children's toys. It was very popular when you were a child. You wanted one but could never afford it. “This is…”
“Gao-Gao Drakon-kun was a gift from Lilia. It’s my most prized possession. I’ve been taking care of it since I was child,” he explains. His gaze softens at the memory. “I want you to have it.”
“No!” Hurt shines in his eyes. “ I mean I can’t take something that’s your most prized possession, Malleus!” You quickly shake your head. You suddenly feel the weight of the palm sized toy.
He closes your fingers over the toy. “I want you to have it. As a symbol of my affections and trust. I wouldn’t trust just anyone with Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.”
Chewing on your lower lip, you hold the toy close to your chest. “I- thank you for trusting me with something so precious.” Slipping the toy into the pocket of your sweater, you take his hand.
Fiddling with his fingers, you stare down rather than at him. You’d probably lose your nerves if you did look him in the eyes right now. “I don’t really have a prized possession, but I want you to know I care about you. Immensely.” You interlace your fingers together. “I want to spend more time with you, Malleus.”
You glance up to see his reaction. His eyes are wide with his mouth slightly open. Then, he breaks into a beautiful smile. “I wish to spend as much time with you as possible as well. We can figure things out as we go.” There’s a sense of relief that washes over you.
 Reaching up, you frame his face. You press a soft kiss to his forehead. Pulling back, you can’t help but laugh at his slightly dazed expression. It very much reminds you of that time you kissed him in his dragon form. He’s adorable in either form.
“Come on, let's go to bed.” You take his hand and lead him back inside. You make sure to grab his pillow from the couch before heading up to your room.
Tossing the extra pillow on the nearby chair, you place Malleus’s pillow down. You take Gao-Gao Drakon-kun out of your pocket and place it on the bedside table. Slipping into bed, Malleus pulls you closer to his side. With his arms wrapped around you, it’s pleasantly cozy.
A yawn escapes your mouth. “Good night, Malleus.”
He lets out a content sigh. “Good night.”
It’s the best sleep you have had in a long time.
---
“Check mate.” The queen smiles. “My, it almost feels like you let me win, Lilia.”
The former general chuckles. “Of course not, my queen. I was merely distracted.”
She waved her hand and the pieces moved back to their original spots. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. What’s on your mind?”
Leaning back in the chair, Lilia regards her with sharp eyes. “Something about the day Malleus was kidnapped by a demon crow has been bothering me. You see, I remember distinctly that you were in the garden having tea. And from where you sat, you could easily see what was happening.”
“Hmm… I was enjoying such a lovely new blend on that day,” she sighs at the memory.
“Well, I’m sure being as powerful as you are, my queen, you could have easily taken down the creature. Yet, if I remember correctly, you just looked on.” Lilia leans forward placing his folded hands under his chin. “Could it be that you wanted Malleus to be taken away?”
A single eyebrow goes up. “Are you accusing me of orchestrating my grandson’s kidnapping?”
“Kheehee… Just thinking aloud.” He bows his head with a grin still on his lips.
She reaches for a pawn while chuckling, “Well, if I did play a hand in that, it’s worked out better than anyone could imagine. However, those two need to figure out the rest for themselves.”
“Oh? No more meddling?” He slides a pawn forward.
She returns his grin with a wicked one of her own. “Only if I think it’s necessary. Though, it looks like they’re on the right track.”
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starboyshoyo · 11 months
Text
A New Beginning
Pairing: Silver x fem!reader (romantic). Lilia Vanrouge (platonic)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Word Count: 800
Genre: fluff; hurt/comfort
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, afab reader, pregnancy. Nothing explicit.
After your wedding to Silver, you have a heart-to-heart with your new father-in-law.
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The murmur of the wedding guests surrounds you, muffled through the thick padding of a private tent’s curtains. There was more than enough chatter happening inside the tent as well, though- for your new father-in-law, Lilia Vanrouge, wasn’t one for silence.
“Oh, and don’t forget this,” Lilia hums as he drops another one of his ‘good luck charms’ onto the steadily-growing pile in Silver’s arms. “It’s a coin from an ancient civilization that I fought against in my glory days- consider it a christening gift for the new house!” He sniffs dramatically. “My little boy is all grown up now, and living on his own~”
“Father, I’ve been living in my own home for a year now,” Silver chides him. Still, he balances the heap of mismatched items in his hands with great care- a testament to how much his father’s love meant to him. “And I won’t be alone. Y/N will be living there as well-“
“Silver!” An excited voice calls your new husband’s name. A very tipsy Kalim stumbles towards you, almost crashing into your shoulder when he gives you a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Jamil follows, not far behind him. The two Scarabian boys are still wearing their groomsmen outfits, though Kalim’s is noticeably stained with wine.
“Silver, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Kalim hiccups, grinning, “Jamil and I prepared a present for you, but we weren’t able to give it to you before the wedding. Come on!” He tugs at Silver’s sleeve.
Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What Kalim means to say is that I prepared a wedding gift for you,” he explained to Silver, an emphasis on the word I. “It’s quite heavy and unwieldy, so we’d appreciate it if you could follow us so we may present it to you without having to lug it all the way over here.”
“What he said!” Kalim slurs. “It’s so awesome, I promise! Just come and see!”
Silver looks between the two boys. “I suppose if my wife is okay with it, I could spare some time.” He looks towards you. “You were feeling nauseous earlier. Will you be alright on your own?”
“Of course,” you assure Silver, “Go have fun! There’s plenty of time for us to spend together later.”
Silver nods, before being led away by the duo.
Now, alone in the tent with Lilia, you ponder what to say. The ancient fae had watched the exchange with an amused smirk that belied his age. It was always a bit strange how much more youthful he seemed; even more so than his own son.
You’re saved from having to make conversation when Lilia speaks first. “I’m glad Silver has found such a wonderful wife to be by his side,” he smiles at you. “Why, if he hadn’t wed you, I’d be minding him until the day his hair turned gray.”
That gets a laugh out of you. Of course, your beloved husband’s hair is already gray. The unusual color of his hair was the reason Lilia named him Silver in the first place. Still, the implications of the jibe are not lost on you- Lilia is a fae, while Silver is human. He would watch his own son grow old many times over before he acquired a single wrinkle of his own.
“It must be hard,” you say aloud, “to be an immortal fae. To know that one day, you will outlive your own kin.”
It’s macabre talk for a wedding. The old wives tales’ you heard as a child hiss at you from the back of your mind, warning you to hush up. But Lilia doesn’t seem to mind.
“It is,” he affirms. “To live a long life is to walk a different path than those you love. But I can rest easy now, knowing that my son has you to walk alongside him and care for him, even in your old age.”
He meets your gaze with his own piercing eyes, full of wisdom beyond the visible years. Then, suddenly, he breaks into a smile. “Or… at least he’ll get a taste of cooking other than my own.”
You giggle.The serious atmosphere disperses itself, as if it had never existed at all. “Alright, grandpa. Whatever you say.”
“Grandpa? Are you perhaps trying to tell me something, my dear daughter-in-law?”
You pause, glancing down at your midsection. “Well, yes, actually.”
“Well, I’ll be! You could have just led with that.” Lilia booms out a laugh. “How long?”
“Just a few weeks,” your voice drops to a hush, “But don’t tell Silver just yet! I’m planning to surprise him later.”
Lilia chuckles. “I suppose I can stay quiet, then.”
While the old fae is calm on the outside, you didn't miss the way his eyes lit up with mirth at the news of your promise- a promise of new life.
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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youryurigoddess · 16 days
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The biggest Easter egg yet
I’ve been meaning to address this for a while now, but @camdenleisurepirates gave me the final push after reading my piece on Gabriel’s cross. Huge thanks for that morsel of motivation, my ADHD brain loves you.
This is going to be yet another long read, although not as extensive as my bookshop statues meta. Still, better get yourself some hot chocolate or another drink of your choice and make sure you’re comfortable!
Now, remember the X-Ray interview with Peter Anderson on Easter Eggs in the opening animation he created for the second season? Forget red herrings, apparently our fandom has a literal red phone box! I’m convinced that this whole scene is a one big — the biggest, actually — Easter Egg, and I’ll explain why step-by-step.
The red phone box Crowley used to warn Aziraphale about the Antichrist and the following Armageddon in S1, the exact one where he left change for an emergency call, seems important enough in terms of the future S3 plot, but there’s so much more going on in this frame. Not only the lift.
The angels
At the very start of this sequence we can see a fragment of an elaborate bridge guarded by cherubs sitting on two columns, maybe globes, leading to a distant structure built over a literal mountain of trash — all elements of the S1 and S2 openings which were consciously picked out by the animators and put together in a very ominous pile.
Ready for some scavenging?
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In the Gabriel’s cross meta, I already mentioned the importance of Ponte Sant’Angelo in relation to the ex-Archangel’s statue. Now it’s time to widen our perspective and focus on the full picture — quite literally. Apparently the bridge from the opening sequence has ten statues of angels, exactly as the Italian historical monument.
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First things first though: the two big cherubs guarding the entry to the bridge might seem familiar to some of you. While they’re obviously not copies of the same statue, a very similar pair of brass cherubs is placed in Aziraphale’s bookshop to symbolize Aziraphale and Crowley. And looking at the screenshot above and the way they sleep or sulk with their backs turned on each other, they are most certainly not talking. The addition of more than one set of eyes is a lovely reference to biblically accurate angel memes though.
If we assume the traditional left-right positioning of the characters, Aziraphale is on the left and Crowley is on the right. Directly behind Aziraphale we can see a ship named “Good Traits”, but in reverse — kinda sorta confirmed by the animator Peter Anderson to be connected to the concept of the seven deadly sins on Twitter. Same that was mentioned recently by Neil in one of his asks.
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The presence of Gabriel — a renegade Archangel wielding a broken cross — on the right, Crowley’s side, seems to match this theory. It could also support one of the possible interpretations of the very last bookshop shot in the S2 finale.
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Out of all ten statues, Angel Carrying the Cross by Ercole Ferrata is considered inferior to the others on the bridge in that it appears to be a two-dimensional relief sculpture rather than an unbounded three-dimensional artwork, which seems to match Gabriel’s first impression as a character.
The inscription on the statue reads, “Dominion rests on his shoulders" — that is the weight of the cross that Christ was forced to carry through Jerusalem before being crucified. Even though Gabriel’s burden partially disappeared, the whole bridge and its environment is covered with crosses. It’s clear that we’re looking at a direct parallel of Via Crucis, the Way of Sorrows.
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Towering over the Italian bridge, at the very top of Castel Sant’Angelo, is a statue of Archangel Michael, seen as the golden angel on the top left part of the trash pile. Aziraphale’s side, perhaps as his assistant, perhaps a rival? Legends of the Jews mention Michael as the chief of a band of angels who questioned God's decision to create man on Earth. The entire band of angels, except for Michael, was condemned to Fall — which could explain why they have such a good access to the Grapevine That Obviously Doesn’t Exist. And whatever’s going on between Michael and Dagon, perhaps.
In Roman Catholic teachings, Michael has four main roles or offices. Their first role is the leader of the Army of God and the leader of Heaven's forces in the final triumph over the powers of Hell. Viewed as the angelic model for the virtues of the spiritual warrior, their conflict with evil taken as the battle within. The second and third roles of Michael deal with death. Their second role is that of an angel of death, carrying the souls of Christians to Heaven. Michael descends at the hour of death and gives each soul the chance to redeem itself before passing; thus throwing the devil and his minions into consternation. In their third role, Michael weights souls on perfectly balanced scales they are often depicted with as their attribute. In their fourth role, Michael appears as the guardian of the Church. Might be the reason why they’re the closest to the building on top of the mountain.
It looks like Michael lost their sword though, just like Gabriel lost a part of the cross he was supposed to carry. The sword in question was supposed to be used to slay the dragon — Satan, the Adversary — according to John of Patmos and his Book of Revelations.
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Speak of the devil: interestingly, there are two copies of an anonymous variation of the Angel of Light statue appearing twice on both sides of the bridge. Both the title as well as the statue itself seem like obvious references to one (former) angel literally called the Lightbringer, Lucifer. Perhaps one of them is representing his son, the Antichrist, instead, with the both of them helping out the Ineffables on two opposing — or perhaps only parallel — sides of the bridge?
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The light carried by Lucifer appears to be green, a color used in the series as a visual representation of Hell, but on the intertextual level might also serve as a reference to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic novel The Great Gatsby and the green light at the end of the Daisy’s dock symbolizing the undying love, desperation, and longing for an unattainable dream. In the story, the color represents the limitations of power and money. Not surprisingly, the novel appears on Jim’s bookshelf and is part of the Good Omens book club — a list of personal recommendations from Neil Gaiman and Douglas Mackinnon for the fans to catch up on before the next series.
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Last but not least, the possible connection to Libertas as the inspiration for the Statue of Liberty, shown multiple times in S2 as a foreshadowing of our character’s trip to America in S3. The related quote of Patrick Henry “Give me liberty or give me death” becomes even more relevant if we consider how the motto of the French Revolution was sometimes written as Liberté, égalité, fraternité ou la mort (“Liberty, equality, fraternity or death”). A lesson surely learnt by a certain angel back in 1793, when he was held prisoner for the last time before being forcefully taken Upstairs in the Final Fifteen.
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The bridge and the castle
Okay, these are the basic observations. Now a brief historical overview and we will reach the fun bit in a jiffy.
Have you ever wondered about the meaning of this whole complex? It wasn’t always angelic, but named after a Roman noble dynasty. The Aelian bridge was built by the Emperor Hadrian in 134 AD to span River Tiber from the city center to his mausoleum. With time, the remains of more emperors were put to rest in there, until it was plundered and destroyed in a war. Then the remaining structure was transformed into a military fortress and a castle serving as the papal residence in times of war.
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The Papal State also used Sant'Angelo as a prison; the Renaissance philosopher Giordano Bruno was imprisoned there for six years. Executions of the inmates were performed in the small inner courtyard, but they weren’t the only deaths in the area. On the other side of the bridge, in the adjoining Piazza del Ponte, under the watchful eyes of the stone likenesses of two saints, the public executions were held, and the heads of the criminals were brought onto the bridge and exposed to public view there.
As a prison, the former mausoleum is also the setting for the third act of Giacomo Puccini's 1900 opera Tosca. Long story short, the eponymous heroine convinces her lover to feign death so that they can flee together. Unfortunately, they are betrayed and the firing squad shoots at him with real bullets instead of blanks. Tosca believes in the quality of his acting performance rather than the truth, and when the realization hits her, she leaps to her death from the Castel’s ramparts.
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After Nero’s bridge was destroyed, the travelers were forced to cross this bridge as the only direct route to the Vatican and St Peter’s Basilica, earning it the nickname “the bridge of Saint Peter”. That’s why in the 16th century Pope Clement VII erected statues of Saints Peter and Paul at the ends of the bridge, guarding it as they are supposed to protect the entry to Heaven.
In 1688 the bridge was embellished with ten angel statues, five on each side of the bridge, carrying Arma Christi, the Instruments of the Passion. The Good Omens characters represented by those statues in the opening sequence might be other instruments of Christ’s suffering as parts of the system that needs to be overthrown or replaced.
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One angel appears particularly important in the context of both the bridge and the Second Coming — Saint Michael the Archangel.
Legend holds that the Archangel Michael appeared atop Hadrian’s mausoleum, sheathing their sword as a sign of the end of the plague of 590, thus lending the castle its present name. A less charitable yet more apt elaboration of the legend, given the militant disposition of this particular Archangel, was heard by the 15th-century traveler who saw an angel statue on the castle roof. He recounts that during a prolonged season of the plague, Pope Gregory I heard that the populace, even Christians, had begun revering a pagan idol at the church of Santa Agata in Suburra. A vision urged the Pope to lead a procession to the church. Upon arriving, the idol miraculously fell apart with a clap of thunder. Returning to St Peter's by the Aelian Bridge, the Pope had another vision of an angel atop the castle, wiping the blood from his sword on his mantle, and then sheathing it. While the Pope interpreted this as a sign that God was appeased, this did not prevent Gregory from destroying more sites of pagan worship in Rome. In honor of the vision and Michael, the bridge was renamed in their name.
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What if the procession from the opening sequence was meant to imitate the procession led by the Pope from the legend? What if Aziraphale, now officially a Supreme Archangel, Commander of the Heavenly Host, is the one actually leading it, with Crowley finally at his side as his partner and second in command, just like it was proposed by him in the Final Fifteen?*
What if by some reason, maybe personal ambition, maybe just a tragic coincidence or situational necessity, there really was an impostor in Heaven, and Metatron — the so called Voice of God who seemingly doesn’t speak up for Herself since Job’s test — has been playing a winged version of the Wizard of Oz all along?
It would make just the perfect sense if not for one tiny detail. The procession we see on the bridge is actually led by Crowley, which doesn’t fit the parallel at all — unless it’s actually a proof of an ongoing body swap, as the mismatched names of the actors could also suggest?
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The mountain of trash and the bookshop
The symbolic mountain of trash we can see Aziraphale and Crowley climb is a reference in itself. To an actual mount called Zion, believed to be the place where Yahweh, the God of Israel, dwells (Isaiah 8:18; Psalm 74:2), the place where God is king (Isaiah 24:23) and where God has installed king David on his throne (Psalm 2:6).
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In a literal sense, it’s a hill in Jerusalem, although the sources refer to three different locations in different contexts — although for the purpose of this meta the Upper Eastern Hill (Temple Mount) makes the most sense. Its highest part became the site of Solomon's Temple. The same King Solomon the rituals in Freemasonry refer to. Masonic buildings, where lodges and their members meet, are sometimes called "temples" specifically as an allegoric reference to King Solomon's Temple, not actual places of worship. And Aziraphale’s bookshop is built around Solomon’s Magic Circle.
In a metaphysical sense, and especially in the context of the Christian New Testament, it is also believed to be a part of Heaven — the heavenly Jerusalem, God's Holy, eternal city. Christians are said to have “(…) come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are registered in heaven” (Hebrews 12:22-23 cf. Revelation 14:1). Just like the procession were following in the opening sequence.
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There’s been some speculation whether the lift on top of the mountain could symbolize Aziraphale’s bookshop, or, more specifically, the oculus in its centre. If you look closely at the enhanced screenshot, you can see that the dome isn’t made of glass and that it looks like a tower (a church’s bell tower, perhaps) more than a whole building.
And there is an actual doorway in there — not like the modern lift doors — opening up towards the source of that white, heavenly light. And what kind of enlightenment can you usually find up in the skies or heavens?
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We’re welcomed to crack open the doors to the Heavenly Sanctuary — the Most Holy place, Sanctum Sanctorum, the Holy of Holies — to undraw the final curtain and finally stand eye to eye with God. Who knows, maybe even ask some questions or listen to some answers.
Or, at the very least, to meet one of Her forms known as Jesus Christ. Because that’s precisely where he serves as our (humanity’s) Mediator and the Holy Priest after his Ascension to Heaven. The structure at the top reminds of some temple architecture seen in Antiquity and Christianity.
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The Catholic Church considers the Church tabernacle or its location (traditionally at the rear of the sanctuary) as the symbolic equivalent of the Holy of Holies, due to the storage of consecrated hosts in that vessel and their meaning as the Body of Christ. Tabernacle is commonly marked with a red light turned on and off depending on His presence or lack if it.
Looks like He’s already in the area, one way or another, keeping eye on some things.
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Are we following a procession of believers happy to embrace their one and true Savior? Or are they actually protesters on their way to dethrone the authority and the system?
Guess we will have to wait and see.
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jewish-vents · 1 month
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first - i just want to say thank you for making this blog. it’s so important to know that we aren’t alone in the many things we’re experiencing and feeling right now, especially when so many of us have become painfully isolated as of late.
i apologize for how long this one is going to be.
i’ve been feeling so, so alone recently. my tumblr dash has been cut down to just a handful of jewish blogs that i can trust to be kind and understanding and nuanced, but it means that the majority of the content i see is about antisemitism and the war. after a while, it becomes draining to scroll through what feels like endless sadness. i turned to looking at fandom tags instead of following fandom blogs, but it makes me feel equally as insane to click on a blog about race cars and immediately see a post with 60k notes calling what’s happening in gaza “the new holocaust”. i started going back on twitter, but fan accounts on there too are only safe for a day or so before the account owner shares some awful antisemitic tweet from an account known to be an anti-jewish extremist. i went back on instagram briefly, but i was soon afraid to look at people’s stories for fear i’d see something terrible and lose yet another trusted person from my life.
in person, i have to walk by signs saying “zionism = genocide” and hastily scribbled palestinian flags with the colors in the wrong spot on my way to class every day. a wall across from my apartment says “BDS” in giant letters. i haven’t opened my curtains in months because of it. a “protest” of about 25 people stood in the center of campus and yelled and waved their fists in passing students’ faces, so jewish students didn’t go to class on any of the days they gathered. i only have one non jewish friend left at school - the rest abandoned me because i either called them out on antisemitic rhetoric or refused to go along with the idea that anyone, palestinian or israeli, muslim or jewish, is less than human. i had taken several of them along to our hillel’s seder in the past. i don’t know who i can safely go with this year. i have a few jewish friends, of course, but i love bringing goyische friends with little connection to judaism along to experience how joyful and loving jewish holidays can be.
it feels like there is no escape from this fucking war. it sickens me that it’s the only thing people pretend to care about - where is the attention for sudan, ukraine, armenia, uyghurs in china, syria, guyana? how is putting an emoji in your twitter bio or putting a translucent overlay of the palestinian flag on your tumblr icon any sort of real activism? how have we gone from “antisemitism is wrong” to “(((zionists))) control the world media”? it seems like the war is a fandom to these people. it seems like nobody cares enough to fully read and think critically about what they share, let alone do real research beyond looking at an infographic somebody shared on their instagram story. they’ll add on “don’t forget your click today!” to an unrelated twitter thread that went viral, flip the bird at the local starbucks, and put “won’t you free my palestine” on their instagram stories. they’ll anonymously tell a jew online to commit suicide. they’ll feel secure in the knowledge that they’re the perfect leftist, that this is somehow “good trouble”. all this praxis, and nothing to show for it but massive surges in hate crimes against jews. good job, guys! you singlehandedly saved every innocent person in gaza!
it’s isolating. it’s scary. jews can’t mourn. jews can’t be angry. jews can’t disagree. jews can’t suffer. jews can’t be whole, complex people with diverse beliefs and experiences. suffering is a game, and the goal is to hurt the most, scream the most, die the most, all to appease western leftists whose closest connection to war and violence was reading the hunger games in middle school.
i’m tired of it all. i want a peaceful and just resolution to the war. i want the mindless hatred everywhere to stop. i want to be able to scroll through social media and see nothing but fandom. i want to walk through campus with my magen david showing and all the friends i lost by my side on the way to the hillel seder. i want to open my curtains again. i know the experience of one diaspora jew is nothing compared to what people living in israel and palestine are currently going through, yet i still need this all to end. i don’t think any of us can go on like this, but we must, because we have. for thousands of years, we’ve gone on. that still doesn’t mean it has to be this hard all the time.
all i can think is “now we are slaves. next year may we be free.” now we are slaves to hatred and violence and suffering. next year may we all be free. next year may we all be in jerusalem.
.
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lisbeth-kk · 7 months
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Sherlock fandom.
Can you forgive me?
John feels nauseous when Sherlock gets his will. They’re allowed to open the grave to prove the great detective’s theory. Sherlock wants John to come, though he really should’ve known better, according to John. It’s their second crime scene together since Sherlock came back from his faked death, and things are strained between them. Their co-habitation is tense and awkward, which makes John itchy and half-mad with anger and sorrow equally measured.
John’s told everyone that he went to visit Sherlock’s grave twice a month, but the truth is that he’s only been there once. He couldn’t bear to see the black gravestone with Sherlock’s name on it. It doesn’t help much that the grave that’s about to be opened, is only a few metres away from Sherlock’s fake grave. John hasn’t dared to look in the direction out of fear that he’ll do something terribly stupid, like falling apart in front of half of the Yard.
“Are you alright?” Sherlock murmurs beside him, having taken a break from pestering the men with the shovels.
“If you have to ask, the answer should be obvious,” John mutters under his breath.
His hands are balled into fists in his jacket pockets, his body stiff and alert. Sherlock draws a breath and is about to speak, when Lestrade calls him over. The grave is open.
“Empty, like you said,” Lestrade tells Sherlock. “How on earth did you know?”
Sherlock speaks rapidly, leading the yarders in the direction of the man who’s faked his death, and Lestrade takes his leave.
“Aren’t we going with them?” John asks hoarsely when Sherlock stands beside him again, gazing over at where his gravestone once was.
“No, they don’t need us anymore today. I’m taking you home, and then we’ll talk, and I’ll tell you why…”
Sherlock’s voice breaks and John looks shocked at him.
“Alright?” John asks and places a hand on Sherlock’s back.
Sherlock’s body shakes and John acts on instinct, forgetting all about his anger. He pulls Sherlock in for a tight embrace, relishing the sudden proximity of this madman.
“Can you forgive me, John?” Sherlock whispers with a trembling voice.
“I don’t know,” John says honestly. “But, by the state of you now, I guess it was much more to your absence than a crazy and exhilarating adventure. Tell me.”
John leads them to a secluded bench close to where John stood and begged a dead man not to be dead, two years ago. When John had told Sherlock about it, his reply had been – “I know. I heard you.”
His voice had been soft, even affectionate, but at the time, it’d just irked John. He wanted to scream and shake Sherlock and ask him why he hadn’t told John. Why he wasn’t allowed to come with him. Why he’d let him grieve like a widower. He hadn’t but it had taken all his willpower to act calm and just nod, pretending everything was business as usual. Which it wasn’t.
It should feel strange to hold Sherlock like this. Soothing him, stroking his back, whispering “shh”, and “I’ve got you”, and “I’m so glad you’re back”, and “I’ve missed you.” But the truth is, it feels utterly natural, a thing John’s longed to do for ages. Even before the Fall.
Sherlock’s head rests comfortably on John’s right shoulder, and his breathing eases, grows steadier. Time to confess.
When Sherlock’s finished telling John about the snipers, Moriarty’s unexpected suicide, his quest to hunt down and destroy the dead man’s network, ending it all by telling John about his last days away, in Serbia, captured and tortured; it’s John’s turn to break down. He weeps in Sherlock’s arms, hiding his face in the crook of Sherlock’s neck, letting Sherlock stroke his hair, rocking him, whispering “I had no other choice”, and “I would’ve taken you with me if I could”, and “you were always on my mind”, and “I missed you every second I was away from you.”
When they walk past the empty grave, John shudders. He turns around to locate Sherlock’s gravestone, but it’s no longer there. 
“Mycroft had it removed last week,” Sherlock says. That’s why I needed you to come along today, so that you could see it with your own eyes.”
John nods and turns to face Sherlock. He grips the lapels of Sherlock’s coat, pulls him closer, looking him square in the eyes.
“I forgive you,” John says softly and leans in to kiss Sherlock’s lips.
@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @safedistancefrombeingsmart @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely @helloliriels @gregorovitchworld
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danikamariewrites · 7 months
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Turning
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Vampire!Eris x reader
Summary: Eris Vanserra, King of vampires in Prythian, and his bride-to-be celebrate her decision to truly spend forever together. @erisweek2023
A/n: I give you king vampire Eris and his very devoted queen! Eris week has been so much fun, I’ve loved reading everyone’s fics/hc/posts/blurbs, edits, and art! This fandom is so freakin talented and I’m so happy to be on here with you guys❤️ I decided to add links to pictures from Pinterest that I pictured while writing this so don’t forget to click on those besties
Warnings: blood, drinking blood, murder, and I wanna say suggestive
Walking through the garden the skirts of my night black gown dragged over the gravel, my hand outstretched to graze over the soft leaves of the maze of rose bushes I'm following. Reaching the center of the garden I take in the vivid colors of the flowers in the sun.
Closing my eyes I lift my head to take in the comforting embrace of the sun one last time. Tonight is my Turning Ceremony. When Eris proposed last month he gave me the choice of joining him for true eternity as a Vampire, or staying as just Fae until I faded into the After World.
I didn’t think Eris would be able to handle my passing after only a thousand years together. And I couldn’t let my love be heartbroken forever.
Deciding to take a reprieve from the sun I head further into the garden where the roses reside. The white roses are my favorite. Along with the white marble and stone gazebo Eris had built for me when I first moved to the castle.
He took me in when my village kicked me out after accusing me of my fathers murder. I wanted to go somewhere that no one would follow. There had been rumors about the castle on the edge of the dark wood. People were terrified of the place, not even looking in its direction if they could help it. But not me. I had come up with my own stories about the dark castle as a girl. So that’s where I went.
Mine and Eris’s relationship took time. But it was well worth the wait. The King shows me nothing but love and kindness.
I stop and smell the roses. They look so lovely, reflecting the sun's bright rays. I suppose the next time I see them they will look more gray. I have no problem giving up the day time. I was always more of a night owl anyways. My parents constantly struggled to get me to go to sleep at a proper time.
Sitting, I close my eyes again and listen to the creatures of the day. I smile to myself at the buzz of the bees, the rabbits rushing through the brush, and the birds calling to each other. Letting my unbound hair rest behind my shoulders, letting the warm breeze wash over me. Days feel busy but peaceful. It’ll be nice to sit out here at night with Eris. In a quieter peace.
A male behind me clears his throat, one of the Fae day servants. I turn to look at the male over my shoulder with a small smile, “Francis, how are you?” He returns your smile, “Well my lady. And you? Your big evening is coming up.”
“Excited. I just want it to go well. For Eris’s sake.” Francis nods in agreement. “Speaking of the King, he requests your presence in his study.” I stand and let Francis lead me back through the garden and through the iron gate back to the castle grounds.
When we reach the doors to Eris’s study Francis stands to the side, letting me take it from here. Knocking on the door I hear Eris’s gruff voice tell me to come in. He must be concentrating on something.
I gently swing the door open and close it quickly. The grand chandelier and candles are the only light source in the room. I notice Eris has the heavy, dark velvet curtains pulled tight against the windows, not wanting to let a sliver of daylight in.
Eris’s study is one of my favorite rooms in the whole castle. It just feels so…him. He has items from things he is interested in scattered amongst the shelves, maps from ages ago, books that look like they would turn to dust if you held them.
The sofas were quite comfortable as well. When I first started getting to know Eris, and was comfortable being around him alone, we spent many nights here just talking. Enjoying a drink or two until one of us would call it a night. Or a day in his case. Mine soon.
I step up the raised platform where his desk sits and stand next to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eris perks up and smiles at me. He takes my hand from its resting place and places soft kisses all over the back of it. “My sweet, how are you feeling today?”
“Happy, my love.” Eris’s smile widens at my words. He was overjoyed when I told him I would turn for him. I don’t think I had seen that much emotion from him. Eris hadn’t stopped showing me that joy.
Eris pushed his chair back, patting one of his muscular thighs for me to sit on. I drape my arms around his shoulders and sit, resting my head on his chest. “Are you nervous at all?” I adjust my neck to look up at him and start to play with the ends of his long auburn hair that’s tied back today. “A little. I just want everything to be perfect is all.”
Eris hums. “It will be my sweet. I will be there with you every step of the way.” Eris brings his hand to cup the back of my neck. His thumb brushed over the small puncture scars from his fangs when he marked me as his. I shiver at the touch.
“Thank you, Eris.” He kisses the top of my head and stands, placing me on the ground as well.
Cupping my face with both hands he stares deeply into my eyes. “I love you so much, y/n. I don’t say this enough, but you have made me the happiest male in the whole world. And I’m so happy it is you who will be by my side forever.”
I feel tears prick at my eyes as Eris rests his forehead against mine. “Oh Eris, you make me so happy too.” I rise up on my toes and connect my lips to his in a short but passionate kiss. It pained me to pull apart from him but I must get ready for tonight. The party will start immediately after sundown and the other lords are already on their way.
“I have to go, my love. I’ll see you later.” Eris gives me one last parting kiss after walking me to the doors. As I walk down the hall towards my chambers I wring my hands to get out my nerves. Tonight would be perfect. And everything will be fine.
Ophelia finished pinning my hair up in a soft, romantic bun with a few strands of hair left loose in my face. When she moved away I turned to check my dress one last time. Staring straight at my reflection I smooth down my red silky dress.
“It’s time my lady.” Ophelia said in a sing-song voice. She holds my door open for me and I float out into the hall.
As I get closer to the ballroom the chattering of our guests gets louder and louder. I stop behind the closed double doors and wait to announced.
I take one last deep breath before putting a stoic look on my face. To show that I’m ready and willing to take this next step.
Eris’s lead advisor announces my arrival and the doors open. Revealing the crowd parted down the middle of the room. Eris’s throne has been moved in here for the occasion. He sits at the end of the makeshift aisle. A long blood-red carpet separating us.
He looks otherworldly in his white suit. The gold embellishments glinting in the candle light that surrounds him. Eris smiles at me, beckoning me forward. Giving me a look that says, you don’t need to worry my sweet it’s just you and me.
I take a step, then another and another. Remembering to pace myself. To not look too eager or too hesitant.
I finally reach Eris with a stupid grin plastered on my face. All stoicism melting away. Before I could kneel at his feet and expose my neck to him he stood.
There were scattered murmurs among the crowd. I couldn’t be bothered to worry about what anyone was saying. Not when Eris is holding my chin between his fingers and looking at me like I’m the only person in the room. “Remember,” he whispers, “I’m here every step of the way.”
I give him a small smile and nod. “Ready?” “Ready.”
Eris turns me to the crowd. As he gives his speech about this being the first Turning Ceremony in two hundred years and he’s glad to give the lords and his subjects to celebrate, I look around the room. I take in the vampire lords for the first time. They’re all so different. I’ll have to ask Eris more about the different courts if I’m to be his queen soon.
As Eris finishes his speech and my attention is brought back to him. He leans down to whisper in my ear. “You smell divine, my sweet. Sinking my fangs into you this evening will be even better than before.” Eris noses down my neck, taking in my scent.
He stops right at my puncture scar and licks. I start getting impatient and push my neck subtly at his mouth. He lets out a breathy chuckle that tickles my skin. “Someone’s eager.” You tsk at him. “Close your eyes and breathe.”
I do as he says in anticipation of the feeling of his fangs sinking into me. After a few more seconds that euphoric pain spreads through me. The intimate scene taking place in front of everyone causing my cheeks to have a pink tint. I bite my lip to hold my moans back.
Eris sucks and sucks and I feel something else. This pain is different than when Eris usually feeds on me. This was the venom Eris prepared me for. It was excruciating. My skin feels tight and clammy. My brain going fuzzy. I feel my canines expand and become sharper.
Eris releases me, wiping at the blood still trickling from my neck.
I can already feel the venom affecting me. Changing my needs and instincts. My mouth feels dry and my tongue heavy. Like a lump of sand I can’t swallow in the middle of my mouth. The mingling of different scents overwhelms me.
Before I know it Eris is sitting me on his throne and snapping at two guards off to the side of the room.
They bring in a Fae female dressed in simple dark robes and force her to her knees at my feet. She looks up at me, closes her eyes, and tilts her neck for me. She must be one of the many Children of the Blessed who sacrifice themselves for these rare rituals.
“For you, my sweet.” Eris says, his voice echoing around the still silent room. I can practically hear everyone holding their breath in anticipation. “Drain her and complete your Turning.” Eris backs away to stand with the court Lords.
I don’t need to be told twice. I grab the female on both sides of her face. I yank her towards me with my new found strength and lean down to sniff her neck. Just like Eris did to me. Her blood is the best thing I’ve smelt in my whole life. Better than any dessert or meal. Better than my favorite white roses.
Without a second thought I bite down into her supple skin and drink like I’m new to the world. The nameless female I drink from occasionally screams from the pain I’m inflicting on her. In the haze of my feeding I’m sure I tried to tell her to be quiet.
Once I feel her go limp I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Not until she’s dry. Not until I’m satisfied.
I can taste the last of her blood coming up. It reminds me of the last of the liquid left in a teapot. I detach myself from her, letting her body fall to the floor. Blood dribbles down my chin and onto my exposed chest. Looking up I search for Eris.
Eris was staring at me with piercing, wild eyes. The corners of his pale lips upturned in a wicked grin. He was looking at me like he had never seen something so beautiful. The sight of me covered in blood, committing myself even further to him brought him joy.
I started to wipe the female's blood from my chin, smearing it on my hands. Eris was before me in an instant. His pale slender hand wrapped around my wrist bringing my hand to his mouth to lick. To taste what my first drink tasted like.
A low growl came from his chest as his eyes closed. I fell forward, still a little weak from the venom and feeding for the first time. My bloody hands leave marks on his crisp white jacket.
Cheers erupt around us. Our guests ecstatic to have a new vampire in their midst. I smile up at my stunning fiancé. The love of my life. My King. I feel like I’m seeing him in a whole new light. Like he’s brighter, more clear.
My smile shows off my fangs and the blood coating my teeth. “Hi.” I whisper at him. The party was in full swing now. Our guests back to chatting and enjoying the music.
“Hello, my sweet.” Eris thumbs at the sharpness of one of my fangs. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice smooth and deep.
“Shall we join the party?” He shakes his head a little, “Not yet. I want to admire you like this for a bit longer.”
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ashleyh713fanfics · 3 months
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FINISHED SOUKOKU SONG
Hello fellow Soukoku simps! I'm new to the bsd fandom so wrote a little song based on what I think Chuuya's thoughts were on the night Dazai left the Port Mafia. Hopefully you enjoy!
UPDATE: Hello again! Thank you so much for the support on this! I honestly wasn't expecting the response at all. As promised I finished the song and added Dazai's verse! Hope you enjoy <3
Lyrics:
Chuuya:
Goodbye Good riddance I say adieu  And for all the foolish things That Make me think of you Yeah tonight I’ll drown myself in this 89 And if anyone asks obviously I’m doing fine For this bottle I’ve been saving for a special occasion  Waited for the proper moment to pop it’s persuasion Cause I know this was all too good to be true That one day you’d leave like the rest did too So here’s to you, my partner, man, not friend You’ll see me suffer till the annoying bitter end And for a moment I guess thought I knew What human was like when I was with you Raise your glass for the hurricane By the monster of a boy who will throw you away Can’t catch him now No matter how you try He will always break your heart And then say goodbye And raise your glass For the fool who almost just believed Yes raise your glass  For the fool tonight who is me
Dazai:
In this bar, pour a glass For a promise That will Last
And yes, I know we had our fun My loyal dog, you made boredem said and done And I hope that you like my gift I admit, it's a simple selfish wish And when you see that bomb explode I know you'll think of me, and me alone
I thought I couldn't feel But with you, it seemed all so real And for a second how strange It was like life was worth the game
(I know Chuuya didn't know that Dazai set that bomb until way after but it's my headcanon that he put it there for so that Chuuya would know it was him, and therefore not forget him)
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modelbus · 3 months
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MODEL HELP-
i just typed a long ass message and it all deleted itself-
question, do you think you want to do another part on cut chaos? No pressure ofc, but I’d be cool! (I have a bunch of ideas for it I’ll send seperate (maybe) feel free to ignore them but like free crappy inspo man)
Request: Y/N is a part of SBI but they aren’t treated that great by the fandom or really the rest of the group. Its not like SBI MEANS to disregard the ‘hate’ towards Y/N like its nothing but they tend to dismiss or just ignore it, of course, they are still really close and care about Y/N, it still just hurts a little that they ignore it. But where the creators don’t realise they’re neglecting their friends emotions, the fans? They are fully aware they constantly joke about Y/N being the worst member of SBI. They are fully aware they also always ‘joke’ about forgetting Y/N exists. They are fully aware that despite Y/N being in as many if not more ‘SBI’ streams or videos than the other creators, they act as if they’re not actually a part of SBI. They are fully aware many of them aren’t joking when they say Y/N is not a member of SBI, or when they say they wish Y/N would stop showing up to streams. They are fully aware that the main ‘joke’ people think of when they think SBI is something along the lines of; “Whos Y/N?” or “Y/N is SO the middle child of the SBI, we all forget them!” or “Y/N? Ohhh you mean the one that’s annoying but its not funny!” .. When the SBI are streaming bedwars 2v2v2’s with a random viewer each game and that viewer happens to end up on Y/N’s team (and be an asshole) they, of course, decide to complain that out of every member they could be teamed with, they got the worst member of SBI! (Even though Y/N and techno practice pvp together regularly and the only person in SBI Y/N can’t kill is techno) While Y/N does what they always do and laughs it off with a SICK comeback (despite how much it hurts when they realise they expected that kind of reaction to being teamed with them), the rest of the SBI seems to snap as though that was their final straw (starting with tommy yelling ‘THATS BULLSHIT’ or smth) and all collectively go on a rant about how shitty most(?) fans treat Y/N, to Y/N’s surprise most of all of the fives chats are agreeing..? Y/N starts to realise maybe they aren’t as hated as they thought.. and maybe, just maybe, they are a lot more loved then they realised.
MODEL I’M SO SORRY MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS SO LONG-
Its funny how I’m not motivated to write actual fics but I can write 800 word requests-
LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK!!!
✨🌌🌙 Annon-
I’d love to write more for Cut Chaos! My writing has been all over the place lately because I’ve been really busy (school stuff :/) but I do enjoy writing for that (not-so) little series
Pairing: Gn!Reader X CC!SBI (Tommy, Techno, Phil, Wilbur)
Found Fury
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You aren’t unfamiliar with the term unwanted. If anything, you’ve burrowed yourself a home in the word, splitting it in two. Accepted yourself for what you are.
Quite honestly, if there was a record for ‘most hated SBI member’ it’d go to you. Actually, it wouldn’t, considering how most people don’t even see you as a member of SBI. The forgettable middle child, adrift alone.
There wasn’t much you could do except accept it.
Bothering the others with it was unfathomable. Besides, they’ve surely seen some hint of it. They aren’t quite that blind, even if Wilbur and Techno do wear glasses. And, seeing as how they haven’t said a word… maybe it’s best if you didn’t nag about it.
It’s not that you’re partial to the so-called ‘suffering in silence,’ because you really aren’t. But you’re uniquely acquainted with brushing things off, pretending that your friends’ continued silence doesn’t sting and that being excluded from the group isn’t heart-wrenching. In the end, who really cares what strangers online think?
You can ignore the messages in your inboxes. The emails to your professional email asking if you’re really a part of SBI. All the replies to all your posts. Every fucking comment on every video you’re in.
Sometimes, it piles around you so high that you can’t see past it. Words strung together to form sentences that rephrase ‘Who even are you’ a thousand times. Or the more creative, ‘How do you manage to be unfunny AND annoying’ mixed with a side of scorn. It’s worse when it trends on Twitter after a stream, but who are you to complain?
After all, you’re just lucky to be following SBI around according to Twitter. Blessed to be in their fucking presence.
For the most part, you just hire more mods. And they’re pretty strict with bans, so your chat tends to err on the positive side. Everyone else’s? Well, let’s just say there’s a reason you don’t have their chats open.
Today is no exception.
Bedwars with viewers, everyone being randomly set into 2v2v2. Tommy’s idea, although he’s lost every round that Techno wasn’t on his team. That was mostly due to you sneak attacking him while he targeted Techno, but still.
“POTATOMAN!” Tommy shouts, practically bursting your eardrums. “YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE!”
“Christ, mate.” Phil laughs.
“…my ears…” Techno mourns quietly, making both you and Wilbur laugh.
“We’re getting in! We’re getting in!” Tommy says excitedly, and everyone spawns into their teams.
Your heart sinks when you realize you’re with the viewer on white team. Their character, a potato in a suit, stares at you as you walk backward to collect iron and gold from the generator.
You’ve been lucky up until this far, always getting placed with one of the others. Logically, you knew you’d eventually be placed with the random, but part of you still hoped. Still dared to relax into the game.
Potatoman’s character stands there for a few minutes, and you buy wool with your iron.
“Funnel me the gold, Tommy.” Techno says calmly.
“No! Fuck off! This is my gold!”
“You’re just going to walk off the edge with it!”
“No I won’t! When have I ever?!”
“Last game.” Wilbur inputs.
“Wha— I was pushed! That’s different!”
A message pops up in game chat, and your eyes flick to it for a moment, too busy with building a bed defense. When you realize it isn’t Tommy’s death message (it would’ve been really funny, let’s be honest), you do a double take to read it.
<Potatoman> My luck omg
Your eyebrows raise. For a split second, you dare to hope that the viewer is a fan of yours. That they want to be on a team with you. Hope is a dangerous thing; it just makes things worse when it dies.
<Potatoman> Stuck with the worst member &lt;Potatoman> Not even a member fr lmaooo
Ah. And there it is.
Seeing the messages doesn't hurt; it's the fact that you knew to expect it right from the start.
That's not to say you're even the worst member, because in PvP you're a God. Hell, you and Techno train it all the time for fun! Even Tommy cheers when he gets teamed with you in PvP games like this. Being teamed with you for Bedwars was a pretty good thing, in theory.
Always in theory.
Because somehow, someway, you're never liked enough. Never enough for the viewers in general, even. Too annoying, too loud, too imperfect, too showy, too quiet, too anything. And you know to expect that feedback rather than to expect any semblance of compliments.
"At least the so-called 'worst member' didn't walk off the edge, unlike someone on my team." You quip, targeting your words at the viewer.
"Heh?" Techno asks.
"Oh, uh, nothing-"
"Look in chat." Wilbur interrupts.
There's a pause, then:
"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Tommy screams into his mic. "WHAT THE HELL?!"
"I'm agreeing with the kid here." Techno sighs.
"Actually, we really should talk about how the fans have been online. It's not even a recent thing." Phil says, his calm a stark contrast to Tommy.
"I've seen it a lot too. Let's be clear; everyone here is part of the Sleepy Bois. I made it, I make the rules." Wilbur declares.
"You did not make it!" Tommy protests, but Wilbur doesn't stop for him.
"To make it clear, we won't tolerate any hate of anyone in this group, especially not to the extent that we've been seeing recently."
Your eyes glance over at your chat, already stunned, only to have your jaw slacken when you see that your chat is spamming hearts and "YESYESYES."
"Guys, you don't have to... do this." You try.
"I'm pretty sure we do." Techno deadpans, and you can practically imagine the optifine zoom on his character's face he's probably doing/
"The fans treat you like shit, and we're all tired of it." Wilbur agrees. "It's stupid."
"They're all internet assholes." Tommy chimes in, this time at a reasonable volume.
"So from here on out, anyone who says mean shit to you gets banned. From all of our chats." Your eyes go wide at Phil's words, and you quickly pull up his and Tommy's streams to see what their chats are saying.
But... that can't be right. The outpouring of agreement can't be right. The fans all hate you, you know this. There's no way they're agreeing with Phil, Tommy, Techno, and Wil.
So you open Wilbur's chat, then pull up a YouTube tab for Techno's stream too.
Agreement floods every chat, and for just a moment you can't breathe. You were the supposed forgotten middle child, the one nobody cares to stand up for. But that was wrong, wasn't it?
You are part of the Sleepy Bois, and you're just as deserving as everyone else. Of the fans, of the support, of being able to open chat and not see overwhelming hate.
Of being loved.
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szalnyshko · 1 month
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(•Д•), Dunmeshi is over taking me!! [spoilers ahead!]
So, I’ve already finished the manga and I’m now waiting for the new episode but during the gap I’ve been consuming fandom content, as per use. Now, the character that I’ve been consuming the most fandom content is Laios cause he’s so jdjdjsjs, and this idea has been fluttering round my head because I’ve only seen THREE actual posts/works about this. Two being fics and one being a tumblr post.
The specific idea is a sibling swap, Falin and Laios, and I’m suffering from lack of content from it!! Only two fics and one tumblr post [ТдТ] One of the fics is Laios and making his desire to be to swap with Falin, and what he thinks will happen. The other is Falin going through the dungeon to save Laios and it’s specific the episode that’s coming out this Thursday, so chapter 27/28 in manga I think.
Like this concept really gets me going cause it changed the whole dynamic of how things would play out. Laios being there meant they met Senshi because Laios was interested in eating monsters. Falin, although she does have an interest, would not have that strong of an interest in eating monsters. I also feel she may not realise it’s hunger that caused them to fail because she was focused on protecting her brother and the party, literally letting herself get eaten to save her brother. She also would not have intimate knowledge of monsters so the party may have a harder time killing monsters.
I think Marcille and Chilchuck would still be in the party. Marcille doesn’t seem to have a deep connection with Laios at the start, with her clashing with Laios and his monster eating habits. Plus the prior encounter where she wanted to kill him for taking Falin away from magic school. This bond deepens between them as they go down the dungeon and she obviously cares for the rest of the party, feeling betrayed that Namari and Shuro [I keep forget your actual name] left. But I feel if it were Lauos to get eaten she wouldn’t be as motivated as she is with Falin [Lesbian icon!] because she doesn’t get to connect with him. This then brings into question, would she revive Laios and risk being jailed by the elves?
She probably would because it’s Falin who asked but there would be more hesitation. Especially with Chilchuck who is against it no matter what.
Talking about Chilchuck, I feel he would stay out of obligation. The same reason he stayed with Laios originally. I think his dynamic wouldn’t change that much but maybe he’d see Falin and Marcill closer to his daughters [?] or maybe he’d have a gripe cause of their relationship as we already know he doesn’t do inter party relationships.
Namari would still leave but I think Shuro would be more hesitant, his love for Falin possibly making him stay for a little bit.
Of course we have the problem with money and food but I think Falin has enough people skills to gather some things. But, because she lived with Laios for some time and heard about his monster fantasies, maybe she’d consider eating monsters. I feel people would be more likely to listen to her rather than Laios [sorry buddy] but still question it. However, Shuro did have a whole crew so maybe he’d help with that and we’d have a whole different crew dynamic.
Talking about that, I wonder how Kabru and his party would interact with Falin’s party. How’d the Namari reunion go? What would Falin’s desire be? How would the finale fight be? Would Laios have a cool chimera bod like Falin?
So many questions for my tiny brain….
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that-ghost-pal · 11 days
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My TAU Bookbinding Frenzy
So I’ve gotten really really into bookbinding recently (well, sort of, I’ll explain in a second), and I keep forgetting to share what I’ve been doing, So allow me to rectify that.
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BEHOLD!! The Six (6) TAU fics I have bound and printed!
(This ended up being really long so, more details under the cut)
This printing journey actually started months ago, some time last year when I printed these three, No Rest for the Automotive by Feneris, So you Want to be a Demonologist by Dementor_ssc, and the first six oneshots (collated into one) from the Bentley Farkas and Friends series by @skia-oura.
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For these three I used the Hardcover Case Bound Book tutorial by Sea Lemon alongside other related tutorials by her. Her videos were very useful throughout all of this so I highly recommend checking out her channel if you’re interested in doing all this yourself. I also initially used a tutorial on tumblr to get the formatting looking nice, but that has since been lost to the aether, so for most of them I just mucked around on Word until I thought they looked nice and professional. I did also use Jess Less’ tutorial on binding fanfiction specifically to help with figuring out how to print these books.
For my very first attempt at binding I wanted to start with something small, that would let me get a feel for the techniques without risking wasting a whole bunch of materials by making some kind of mistake so I chose No Rest for the Automotive by Feneris as it’s one of my favourite shorter fics.
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For the cover I used some coloured card that I stitched to the binding, which I’m sure I would have used a tutorial for, but this was done a while ago and I’m not sure which it would have been. This ended up with 28 pages, including an appendix with the author notes at the end, which I did for all of these.
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The second book I printed was So You Want to be a Demonologist by Dementor_ssc, because of course it was. It was one of the first fics I read for this AU and I feel fairly confident in saying it’s the most popular in the fandom (and rightfully so, it’s incredible). @gnomewithalaptop also printed it, which was very cool to see, (and she had a significantly cooler cover than my copy but ah well).
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Following Sea Lemon’s tutorial I got as far as glueing the spine together getting a complete text block (I think that’s the right term, idk I can’t be bothered checking haha) and making a haphazard attempt at making the hard cover, but that involved a lot of glue, and waiting for glue to dry, which sadly absolutely ruined my motivation to properly finish this project. But even still I now have a physical copy of one of my favourite fics, and it might not have a pretty cover but I still think it’s neat. This ended up having 191 pages :)
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I ran out of image space so check out the reblogs for the rest of it!
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