#I'll let you take a wild guess at who I had been trying to draw before I ended up with a bunch of clone portraits again

[omaano]

Scratching up their armor is incredibly satisfying for some reason

#the clone wars #tcw #tcw fanart #captain rex #rex #wolffe #commander wolffe #fives #clone trooper fives #captain howzer #howzer #was noone going to correct me that i got his rank wrong in my previous post #clone trooper #star wars tcw #the clones #my art #face study #temuera morrison #I ran out of my fave Tem pics so I'll chill after this batch #I'll let you take a wild guess at who I had been trying to draw before I ended up with a bunch of clone portraits again #WRONG it was Rex this time around #I'll need to put some thought and effort into what my style actually is because something goes horribly wrong between #doing the actual little portrait study and then trying to apply that to make it work in “my style” #which is too close and too far from it at the same time and it's closing in on a breaking point for me #something is not working and I'll have to quickly figure out what that is #Rex and Wolffe my beloveds #I finally have a little drawing of both of them I can rest now #Wolffe remained so grey I forgot to adjust the contrast and saturation a bit more on him oops but it suits him I think #Tem clones #Clone portraits

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I... still care | {No ship!}

Theme: Angst+Fluff

Note: THIS ISN'T A SHIP HELP JUST READ THE REQ SCREENSHOT FOR THE INFO.

Ngl I forgot i allowed requests for such as ones with no ships since I've not done things like this in a while LMAO

Sanemi stopped at the voice of a boy who was definitely not his brother. He turned. "The hell do you want from me?"

Genya was there. He looked as if he'd just been fighting to death and Sanemi paused, wondering if he should help. Maybe... not.

"Sanemi... Can I talk to you?" Genya asked meekly under the Hashira's stern gaze.

"Fuck no, go away," Sanemi growled.

"But-"

"You look like you were fighting an Uppermoon but I'm going to guess they couldn't even be close to an amateur demon. Are you a fucking idiot?" he spat, stalking closer to Genya.

"San-"

"Quit the fucking demon slayer corps or I'll kill you," he hissed.

"No! Why?!" Genya said, stepping back.

Sanemi stepped forward. "Why not?"

"I want to be close to you, Aniki..." Genya mumbled. "I can't quit."

"You fucking will or I'll make you!" 

"...No!" 

Sanemi clenched his teeth together, annoyed. "I'll beat you until you can't move, then you'll have to quit!!" he threatened, his eyes narrowed.

"I'll heal!" Genya persisted.

"Fucking hell, why don't you stop?!" Sanemi shouted.

"I already told you!! Why do you want me to stop?!" he asked. A rush of dizzyness hit him and he wobbled a bit as Sanemi stalked towards him.

"You literally look like you're about to fall of your own feet, don't contradict me when you know you have no fucking place in the Corps!" Sanemi retorted, grabbing Genya's arm to keep him from tipping over. "You're a fucking mess so go crawl your way to Kocho's or be left to die here. It's not that hard."

He let go, letting his (totally not) brother drop to the ground in a heap.

Genya groaned, rubbing his head. "Sane-"

"Go."

Sanemi turned and walked a few paces forward, then glanced back and noticed Genya had gone unconscious. He muttered a swear and sighed, backtracking and picking up his brother carelessly, holding him by his arms. 

"I swear, you'll be the death of me sometime," he sighed. He half picked-up, half dragged Genya to his estate, not bothering to swerve around any rocks that Genya's body my bump into as he walked.

Once inside, he dropped Genya to the floor and went to find some bandages, quickly finding some medicine along with it. He filled up a cup with water and wet a towel, then made his way back to his (not) brother who was sat up now, looking dazed and confused.

"Don't ask," Sanemi ordered. He pushed the cup of water to Genya's lips and made him drink it in small sips. 

He dabbed the towel at the blood caking Genya's body, wiping it away. Most of the wounds looked like they would heal in a couple days time, save for one across his stomach that would need a bit more tending. 

Sanemi wrapped the bandages around Genya's torse and arm where the wounds were more dire—although none were deadly, unless infected or untended. 

He dropped one of the pain killers he'd acquired into the remaining water in the cup and again helped Genya drink it with a gentleness he rarely had anymore.

He stood, then, taking the bandages he hadn't used and the bloodied towel with him. 

Once he'd discarded them, he went back to his room and arranged another futon with some blankets and an extra pillow. He helped Genya stand, mostly dragging him to the bed and letting him get comfortable.

Once he was sure Genya was asleep, Sanemi went out to the back of his house, grabbing a wooden katana to train with.

He brought it up over his head, swinging it in what would appear a wild motion to anyone but a demon slayer, drawing in air as he cut down. He continued this for a long time.

He didn't know for how long he was out there, pushing himself to continue, ignoring the burn in his muscles as time drew on and his motions became both smoother and stiffer, showing him his limits, making him want to try harder. To do better.

After some time, he heard a clatter behind him. Clumsy footsteps. He hadn't noticed before; his mind had been preoccupied and he cursed himself for getting distracted.

He turned and saw Genya, struggling to get out of the pile of broken wooden katana's Sanemi had long discarded.

"The fuck are you doing?" Sanemi asked, sighing.

Genya looked up, quickly brushing off the pieces of wood that had stuck to his clothes. "H...Hi, Ani... Sanemi," he mumbled, looking guilty for having been caught—though anyone would've heard him from all the sound he'd made.

"Are you better now?"

Genya nodded. "Thank-"

"Then go. If you're healed then you can go." Sanemi raised an eyebrow (stfu) in a way that seemed to be evaluating whether Genya would contradict him or not.

"Uhm... Nevermind, my arm suddenly started hurting a lot," Genya said quickly, clutching his arm in mock pain. 

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Go back inside and don't bother me. There's some food somewhere if you're hungry but don't take all of it and don't mess anything up," he said, turning back to his training.

"Okay!" Genya said obediently, scampering back inside happily.

Sighing, Sanemi went back to his training, lost again in the movement of the wood slicing through the air.

Around mid afternoon, Sanemi headed back inside, using a towel to mop up his sweat.

He ran his hand through his hair, throwing the fake katana aside and walking in, the cool air of the house hitting him.

He breathed out, relaxing for half a second before he remembered Genya was here.

He walked around, in search of his brother, and found him laying down in the middle of a ranom hall, staring up at the cealing.

"The fuck are you doing?" Sanemi asked incredulously. 

Genya jolted him, not having heard him, and stumbled for a response. "Uhm, just thinking," he said quickly.

"About?"

"I remembered... Uhm. When we were younger, after Father died, when anyone of us got hurt you would take care of us like you did for me today. You used to make us some soup and sit next to us all day or night until you were sure we weren't in pain, even when Mother told you to rest," Genya said, averting his eyes.

Sanemi paused. He remembered that too. It had been so long ago, but his old habits had probably slipped in slightly. He felt an odd sense of guilt stab him in the chest at the sight of Genya, seeming nervous around him. 

Before, Genya had trusted Sanemi. Most of anyone, maybe. 

But that was gone.

It was probably Sanemi's fault, though he would think of it as faulted by Genya, finding that he should've been more careful about his words that one day.

But Sanemi was really the one to blame. He'd pushed aside Genya for years by a grudge that was completely reasonable yet shouldn't have been held on for so long, especially since what Genya had said was completely justified. 

And yet, he felt he was still protecting Genya by ignoring him.

Sometimes.

Apparently not, if Genya was coming to him all injured then fainting on the spot.

Sanemi sighed and turned around. "Fuck, I still care for you. But you're healed now, you can leave."

He didn't wait for a response, only continued down the hall to his room.

He could've sworn it was his imagination, but as he closed the door to his room, he heard Genya walking away, his steps seemingly lighter now. More content.

{Word count: 1276}

Fuck you Sanemi for being difficult to write 3:<< 

anyways it's so nice outside today and my mom is telling me to stop going online so maybe i might go outside for the first time in like a week 😇

i mean it'll calm me

also it made this easier to finish writing

i love them sm bro :'>

#kny #sillyness #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #angst #sanemi #genya #shinazugawa #shinazugawa's #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa brothers #i love them #fluffy kinda #idk #help #weee

[feelgoodghoul]

Nerves || Trans! Dew x Aether Ghoul

Taken up from an ask on @iamthecomet 's blog, enjoy, lovelies! It's actually cheesy as hell at some points IMO, but sweet nonetheless.

NSFW under the cut, contains feminized genital descriptors (clit, cunt, y'know, the works.) Also a lot of slick. Think of it as remenants of Dew's water ghoul past.

Aether's face is flushed, his lips slightly parted as he just admired Dew's sprawled form on the bed beneath him. His hair was like a halo around his head, golden and oh-so-soft as it cascaded over the sheets and draped over his horns in little sparkling strands. Aether was only brought back to reality when Dew let out the smallest of whines, nervousness already creeping into his tone.

Usually, their actions all remained clothed, rough grinding and practically fucking each other through their jeans, hard, fast, nasty. But tonight was different. Dew had decided early on that he wanted clothes off, and Aether had happily agreed, but now he could see just how scared the small fire ghoul was to reveal his body.

"Y'know, we don't have to do this," Aether speaks after a bit, "we can continue as normal, if you want."

Dew shook his head, the deep blush spreading down his neck. "I want this, I really do, it's just-" Dew catches his lip between his teeth, biting down to try and control his wavering voice. "No one's ever seen me... Like that. Without clothes, you get it." He tried to laugh to fight back the terrified tears pooling up in his eyes.

"Are you scared I'll hate it? Your body?" Aether kept his tone light, ever gentle. He barely needed to wait for Dew's nod.

"I hate it, how can no one else?"

Aether brushed his thumb along Dew's jaw, drawing a soft sob from the man below. "Dew, I already think you're stunning, clothed or not. Your perception of yourself won't ever change the way I see you, the way everyone sees you." He leaned down to leave a sweet kiss on the ghoul's lips, pulling away when the fire ghoul's breathing evened out. "I've always seen you as a man. A feisty, wild man." Aether let Dew absorb his words, the small ghoul's lip still quivering slightly. "Show yourself to me, little flame, let me worship you."

Dew couldn’t help but let the tiniest of laughs escape his lips, bubbling up until a smile tugged up on his frowning face. “I — I mean… I just — I don’t know…” Dew propped himself up on his elbows, huffing. “I want to let you see me, I do… But -”

“The nerves will always be there.” Aether practically finished the little ghoul’s sentence. “And I understand, we take this at your pace, you show me what you want me to see.” He planted a little kiss between Dew’s molten gold eyes, glad to see a look of gratitude on his face.

“Thank you.” Is all Dew can say. He couldn’t ask for a more understanding partner than Aether, someone who had always been there for him. He hated feeling so vulnerable, though, even with the quintessence ghoul. Dewdrop’s heart was hammering against his chest, like a petrified rabbit begging for an escape. “We can - we can start with shirts, I guess…”

Aether accepts that answer with a kind smile. “I hear ya. I’ll go first if it helps at all.” When Dew nodded frantically, he began to get his shirt off at a leisurely pace, one that Dew could easily follow himself. The larger ghoul was soft in all the right places, his body plush yet well built and strong, muscle rippling beneath the surface. “Whenever You’re ready, little flame.” He cooed in a reassuring tone.

Dew relaxes at the tone of Aether's voice, his thin fingers quivering over the top button of his shirt as he takes a moment to look over Aether's body. He always admired the build of the ghoul, as did many, but it always made his eyes and face go soft with a certain kind of love. He lets out a shaky sigh before he began to undo his own shirt, pulling it free from his tight pants — he preferred his shirts tucked — and soon enough exposing his lithe torso to the quintessence ghoul above.

Aether could only utter one word, "stunning." He sounded breathless, like the sight of the little fire ghoul had completely stolen the air from his lungs. It made Dew blush. Once Aether composed himself, he leaned down to kiss the ghoul, using the opportunity to be close and drink in the scent of cinnamon and ash that floated off of Dew.

"You've barely seen anything, you can't be serious..." Dewdrop huffed, breaking himself away from the kiss to breathe hastily. Aether shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm dead serious, firefly, you're fucking beautiful."

Dew looked away, quivering with a myriad of emotions. Everything in his head was screaming at him to stop, to just put his clothes back on and forget this all happened, but he ignored himself for once. "I want my pants off..." He whispered, voice wavering.

"Would you like help?" Aether responded softly, smiling when Dew gave him a nod of confirmation.

What happened after that was a bit of a blur to Dew, all up until the point where he felt Aether's thick fingers slip between his folds, coating themselves in slick and guiding themselves right up to his sensitive clit. This dragged a moan from Dew's throat, his hands lazily lying above his head and grasping at nothing but air.

"Fuck, Aeth..." He finally utters, his eyes going slightly screwy from the heat that gathered in the pit of his stomach, twisting and beginning to coil all at once.

"That's the voice I love to hear, Dewdrop..." Aether muttered, his eyes dark as he watched the fiery ghoul closely, looking for any hint of unease in order to catch it early. "Let me know what you need."

"I need-" Dew gasped, his hips jolting upwards as Aether circled his clit with his thumb. "I need anything, anything you can give me, I want it..."

Aether nodded along with Dew's pleas, thinking through a good way to continue his endeavors in making Dewdrop feel as good as possible. Soon enough, he began undoing his own pants, one-handed of course, as his fingers had already worked their way into Dew's dripping cunt, stretching and stroking inside his heat in search of the special place that could make anyone scream.

Dew's whimpers and whines had evolved into full-fledged moans, his voice still soft with uncertainty, though that was too beginning to melt away. Aether's fingers felt like heaven inside of him, making his eyes roll back into his head as his back arched off the mattress. He could feel the way slick collected on Aether's fingers, trickling into the awaiting palm of his hand as the quintessence ghoul worked his tense body open.

Dew finally let go of his worries when Aether's thumb pressed against his clit, once again giving him the stimulation he craved. A subtle flick upwards sent his hips bucking off the mattress once again, his voice raising slightly as he made non-verbal pleas for more. Aether growled, a pleased noise as he watched the shiny slick pool up in his palm and drip off the side of his palm, creating a wet patch on the bed beneath them as the fire ghoul began to rock his hips with need.

"Take what you need, my firefly, help yourself." Aether cooed to the dazed ghoul, finding the bundle of nerves once again and jutting his fingers sharply upwards, making Dew release a strangled moan from deep within his throat. "Aeth- Aeth please, fuck I'm already so close dammit!" He shouted, blood roaring in his ears. All he could hear was the huffs of Aether's breath as the larger ghoul watched, listened.

"Cum for me then, starlight, I want to watch you burn bright." He growled out once again, and Dew was left seeing stars as his orgasm rocked him, socking him in the stomach and nearly winding him. Aether pumped his fingers continuously, long, languid movements pushing and pulling Dewdrop back to full consciousness.

"Don't worry, Dew, we've got a long night ahead of us." Aether pulled his fingers from the fire ghoul's sopping cunt, strings of glistening slick webbing his fingers as he dragged his tongue along them

"I'll make you see stars."

And Aether stuck to his word. Dew saw stars that night, and it was glorious.

#dew x aether #dewdrop ghoul #aether x dewdrop #aether ghoul #gentle aether #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghoul fic #nameless ghoul fic #trans!dewdrop #dew is nervous #aether loves him to bits #reassuring words #gender affirmation

[lyrabythelake]

Writing prompt? How about the chain trying to figure out what wild can and cannot eat? And it quickly escalated from there and becomes a game of «  the first one to figure out what wild can’t eat wins ». ( btw I really enjoy your writing. Keep up the good work)

I loved writing this prompt, thanks anon! Thank you as well everyone else who sent asks. I'll be writing them over the next few weeks <3

“Are you sure he knew what it was?”

“Yes! I told him before I gave it to him. I said, ‘Hey, Wild, do you want this dung beetle burger I made you?’ And he looked happy! He told me thank you! He said how thoughtful it was of me to make him something to eat, especially because he was so hungry. And then, Ledge, and I tell you no word of a lie, he ate the whole thing right in front of me. There was nothing left!”

“I don’t understand,” Legend mutters. He is stumped. He does not give up easily, but this game he and Wind are playing–the game that is not a game anymore–has him doubting just about everything.

“So what are we going to try next?” Wind asks in the name of true teenage stubbornness. 

“I don’t know, Wind,” Legend says. “I just don’t know.”

“Because I was thinking, you know, as much as you and I find all these creepy crawlies disgusting, well, it seems Wild doesn’t. So what if we go down the more… dead route. I mean not actually dead, like deceased–gee, I don’t want to kill the guy–I just mean things that were never alive in the first place.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know, rocks or something.”

“He eats rocks,” Legend says dispassionately. “I’ve seen him.”

“Seriously?!”

Legend nods, but he is distracted. Hyrule is talking to Wild now, holding something in the outstretched palms of his hands. He curses. If anyone has a chance of beating them at this damn headache of a game, it is Hyrule. 

Like him and Wind, the others seem to have seen the benefit in pairing up–putting two heads together is always better than one–so Sky stands some distance behind him, twisting his hands nervously. Twilight and Four listen in, not even trying to be discreet about it, and Warriors and Time are too busy whispering conspiratorially to notice the game’s new development.

“Come on,” says Wind, having caught on to what Legend was staring at, “let’s get closer.”

They do, and Hyrule’s voice drifts into hearing range. It has that edge to it that always reveals itself when faced with a tricky battle–confident and firm.

“These mushrooms,” he tells Wild, “these mushrooms are poisonous.” He says it slowly, like he is talking to a small child, reiterating some of the words so Wild is in no danger of misunderstanding.

(“Damn,” Wind whispers. “I didn’t think Sky had it in him.”)

“O…kay?” Wild replies.

“Considering their poisonous nature,” Hyrule continues, “would you eat them?”

Wild looks confused.

“Do you… want me to eat them?”

“No, Wild,” Hyrule says, exasperated. “You’re my friend, why would I want you to eat poison?”

Wild shrugs, his confusion growing visibly. Twilight takes the moment to give his two rupees.

“But if he did want you to eat them, would you?”

“I mean… I guess?”

“Why?!” Hyrule cries, and Legend has to agree.

“Like you said, you’re my friend. If you wanted me to eat poisonous mushrooms, there would probably be a reason.”

Hyrule looks as if he might cry.

“Goddesses, Wild,” Twilight scolds. “So if Hyrule told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?”

“...Probably.”

Why Twilight expected any other answer, Legend would never know.

__

Time and Warriors have really outdone themselves. Legend isn’t one hundred percent sure what exactly is in the brown sludge that sits wetly in the bottom of Time’s wooden bowl, nor is he certain how they got it to be such a truly repulsive viscosity, but surely—surely—Wild would draw a line at consuming it.

It has been a week since this game began and Time and Warriors seem to have spent the entirety of that time concocting… whatever this brown gloop is. It smells horrendous, like some poor, unsanitary creature has died and rotted for days in the sun, and even as he looks at it, bubbles form on the surface—Hylia, is something alive in there?!

“You shouldn’t get him to eat that, Time,” Sky tells him seriously. “It could do real damage.”

“Says the guy who offered him poisonous mushrooms,” Warriors retorts.

“We wouldn’t have actually gotten him to eat it. We were just seeing if he would. Hypothetically.”

“If this doesn’t work, I’m giving up,” says Four, eying the Hell Soup with revulsion.

“This is our trump card,” Warriors says like he is proud that he and Time are the fathers of the worst brew ever created, “our pis aller. If this doesn’t work, nothing will, and I declare that Wild will eat anything.”

“What’s a piss allay?” Wind whispers in Legend’s ear.

“Me and Twi were going to try a scorpion, though,” Four contends.

“I used to eat scorpions all the time,” Hyrule says nonchalantly. “They’re not that bad, you just have to take the stingers off.”

“You’re lucky we aren’t playing this game on you,” Legend tells him.

“What are you all doing?”

They jump collectively. It is a true mark of how distracting this game has been for them that Wild managed to sneak up on eight seasoned heroes.

“Uh, nothing, just…” Time’s eye flick from Wild’s face to the bowl in his hands, then he holds it out to him. “We made you soup.”

“Oh.” Wild looks at the bowl with trepidation. Finally, he shows something other than unmerited appreciation. “What’s in it?”

“Oh, you know,” says Warriors casually. “Just some mud; maggots, a little bit of ‘blin guts.”

Wild gulps, but, of course, he takes the bowl in his hands and reaches for the spoon. Legend has the sudden urge to knock it to the ground.

“I’d like to thank you all for making me all this food recently,” Wild says, getting a little of the soup on his spoon. It almost seems to move on its own accord, gloopy and leaving little oily trails behind where it touches. Legend feels sick. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. It really means a lot. It’s the little things.”

Legend bites his lip as he begins to move the spoon towards his mouth. He feels terrible. Wild cooks them delicious food three times a day, and then, what? They take advantage of his kindly nature and frankly abysmal self-preservation to play a game? And now he’s thanking them for it.

Wind fidgets beside him and every single one of them has increasing looks of guilt on their faces. They watch, entranced, eyes following the wooden implement in its long, torturous journey to Wild’s mouth.

Hylia, this has to stop.

“I’m so lucky to have such amazing friends.”

Wild opens his mouth, and Legend really is getting ready to tackle him to the ground now just so he doesn’t have to swallow this culmination of the darkest parts of their leaders’ minds. Luckily he doesn’t have to because Time gives a very calm, very firm, “Stop.”

Wild does, and the spoon hangs there in mid-air, almost like he was waiting for any excuse not to carry on.

“I can’t believe you were going to eat that,” Wind cries. The spoon falls back into the gloopy soup. They are going to have to throw it and the bowl away later, no question.

“But…” Wild begins confusedly, “you made it for me.”

“You dimwit,” Legend tells him, and it is harsh but Wild has proved it ten times over this past week. “We were giving you things to see if there was anything you wouldn’t eat. It was a competition.”

Twilight and Time both glare at him, and Wild looks nothing short of crestfallen. He is pretty sure it was Twilight’s idea in the first place, so it’s not like he can come down on him for it. He is just telling the truth.

“Sorry, Wild,” says Sky in that quiet, guilty way that means he has really done something wrong.

Wild is silent, and he stares at the soup in front of him, bubbling, foaming. The rest of them are at a loss for what to say; the guilt seems to take an almost physical form. Then Wild finally says, “I don’t eat beetroot.”

“What?” Legend asks, not sure if he heard right.

“Beetroot,” Wild repeats. “I won’t eat it. I don’t like that it turns my mouth purple.”

Legend hopes Wild gains some satisfaction from the sheer shock on their faces. Goddesses know he deserves it.

#lyra writes #thanks anon!! #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu legend #lu wind

[genderfluidgothwitch]

Bwuehehe. Writer questions 1, 15, 28, 32, and 46

1: What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting"

I use either Calibri or Ariel, depending. Basically any sans-serif font thats ADHD/Dyslexia friendly. Love reading/writing, hate when words don't stay put lol

15: Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

Good lord lmao.

I just recently started being okay with annotating anf highlighting books. I used to consider it sacrilegious to do so, and then I realized who the fuck cares? They're my books, and fuck it, if I'm gonna let someone else read it, they can have fun reading my thoughts while doing so lol. I do not dog ear, only because I have a tendency to either use scrap paper bookmarks, the fancy bookmarks I keep forgetting I own. I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading in the bath. Unfortunately my family hated when I would read in the bath for two hours. Something about there only being one bathroom for six people lol. I do not judge. Again, who the fuck cares lol. I will be friends with anyone, regardelss of how they treat books. Carry them around everywhere, hoard them on bookshelves, tear out pages, blend them into a smoothie, fuck if I care lol.

28: Who is the most delightful character you've ever written? Why?

Oh goodness, I don't know. I'll always have a special fondness for Cam and Maddie, but I think the most fun character to write has actually been Q Tomlin. They're a nonbinary genderfluid teen navigating high school, coming to terms with a lot of structural homophobia/transphobia, and also starring in a Shakespeare play!

32: What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic/etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

What, like in someone else's work?

I guess one of my favorite lines would be from a Dylan Thomas poem.

"Do not go gentle into that good night/ rage, rage against the dying of the light."

It's very much a line about not being complacent. I found it funnily enough in a trilogy I read as a teenager when I found the first book in my summer camp's lost and found. It was the last week of the year and we were encouraged to take things that weren't claimed, so of course I claimed the book lol. I've always been a bit of a rebellious thinker, so can you take a wild stab as to why I fell for that line?

40: Please share a poem with me, I need it.

See above poem, but also, here's one I wrote a while ago that I still can appreciate:

After Life

We walk across trails of light, endlessly winding through the night. A journey to the worlds beyond to find something that lets us bond and become something new, something true, something that we never knew we could be until we tried. Too many tears we have cried, and too many hearts were broken. All these words we left unspoken, a mark upon these hearts, torn apart, if only we had been so smart as to remember who we were together. Now we face the land of forever. Alone now, nowhere near close to that we fear, a different place to call home, our own. Draw me near, this place I roam. I want something as real as this, this glowing land of perpetual bliss. Let this be real, oh gracious god, for I can’t believe that I can trod upon these golden paths to salvation, in desperation, to something great, the blest creation of life in heaven. And now I know and can question how I came to deserve this afterlife, After all the pain and strife I have cause to others, to brothers, and those whose mothers names I cursed in frustration. Can I still receive re-creation of myself when I can’t be bothered to try to just be me?

We travel across these paths of light endlessly winding through the night. I guess I’ll never get it right. So let me fall, in ceaseless flight.

#asked and answered

[schismusic]

Ripping it up and starting again with Depeche Mode

A version of this post existed a month ago already. It was supposed to be a piece more in the vein of the Lou X one, but I decided not to post it because it was really bad from a moral standpoint. So back to the drawing board we go. Which is very funny to me because Depeche Mode's career seems entirely based on that, trial-and-error, or more exactly successive approximations. Vince Clarke leaves them, they start from square one again with Martin Gore as lead songwriter. Alan Wilder leaves them, they start kind-of-sort-of where they left off. Andy Fletcher dies, they finish up the record and it's actually good, which surprises many, myself included. Andy Fletcher's death, as terrible as it is to say out loud, was that extra push I needed to actually get my ass onto Depeche Mode for real and not just as vestigial remains of something my mom told me once when I was like five.

Rationally, I kind of just thought Depeche Mode were some run-of-the-mill synthpop band who nailed a couple songs here and there, and depending who you ask that might even be the case, so when I was 16 my initial reaction was something along the lines of "okay so aesthetically they're slightly edgier than Talk Talk, aka the renowned and incontestable pinnacle of '80s synthpop, that's cute, anyway back to The Colour of Spring" which in retrospect makes me want to slap myself across the face. And it's definitely not Talk Talk's fault, believe me, not one bad record except maybe The Party's Over but y'know, growing pains! The one thing I'll allow artists, but not myself. Until at one point my mom goes "hey, can you make me a CD for the car? I want Stairway to Heaven in it." For reference, my mom basically had no clue who the fuck Led Zeppelin were until my old band decided we actually were crazy enough to try playing Stairway to Heaven to an actual human audience — and for some reason my mom liked our version better. Damn, being sixteen and vaguely cute really lets you get away with some crazy shit. But yeah, I had seven minutes filled, alright - what do I fill the CD with? I knew that my mom is, usually, more aligned to my music tastes than my dad is (I think I actually showed my mom '90s Swans and System of a Down on two separate occasions, somehow not getting consequently, uh, retroactively aborted) and I knew my mom liked bands like Duran Duran and Depeche Mode back in the '80s, so what the fuck, let's google "depeche mode" and see what pulls up.

Take a wild guess what pulled up.

And ironically, even that didn't entirely stick the landing. I had this whole ass conversation with my friend R. about how Depeche Mode's production decisions were dated "but like in an iconic way and unintrusive" or some backwards ass shit, I don't even know, I guess I was trying to justify myself for not liking a fucking record as much as I expected (????) and into the mnemonic toilet it went. Until March 2023 rolls along and at A.'s birthday, on the Bluetooth boombox that A. never separates from, this plays:

And it was, again, cute, right. It's dated in a very endearing way that makes it somewhat compelling. And so was Strangelove, which for some reason felt like a natural next step to take from there, but nothing else came of it. I never went out and listened to the singles, minus some of the ones I'd known as a kid: in case you're wondering, they were Peace and Blasphemous Rumours, which are definitely not babby's first Depeche Mode songs. For some reason I still couldn't cut the same slack I'd been cutting for — again — Talk Talk, whom I still love dearly. Maybe it was just a question of time, or simply of just learning to get along with the fact that things age. For some reason it took me a good five to seven years to actually realize that, god damn!, I'd never listened to a full Depeche Mode album before. So since I'm a smartass and it has an edgy title, I started out on Black Celebration and it's good, don't get me wrong, but definitely not the best possible starting point for Depeche Mode I think? If you're looking for veritable bangers front-to-back maybe go for Violator, or Songs of Faith and Devotion if you're feeling like some extra zest. But whatever, I don't know what the fuck happened that day in the car. Anyway that's how I came across my favourite Depeche Mode song, which on my worst days still gets me if it catches me off guard.

And that's what made it click, for some fucking reason. Real talk — it barely gets any more stereotypically '80s than the single mix of this song, and yet here I am bopping my shit to the beat, genuinely rocked to my socks and in a frenzy. Add to that this interesting conversation I had with this friend of A.'s, a Russian girl who immediately charmed me with her wits and unique makeup game (on a different occasion she referred to a Soviet-era children's TV show called Приключения Буратино — "priklyucheniya Buratino", which translates to "The adventures of Buratino" — as a major inspiration point for her aesthetic choices). For a very peculiar coincidence, it turned out that most of the people at the party were of Eastern European descent to some degree, and when A Question of Time played literally every single one of these people popped up saying "damn, my mom loved Depeche Mode" and this here girl I was talking about told me that back in the '90s, I'm talking immediate post-USSR years, her mom once got detention because on a school trip to Belarus she skipped class to go buy Depeche Mode posters at a newspaper stand. So since I'm very normal about this kinda stuff, I obviously went back home and googled "depeche mode russia", which led me to this here Dazed article which in turn led me to depeche.ru, a small miracle of a Web 2.0 time capsule where a treasure trove of pictures taken by Russian and Eastern European fans of Depeche Mode from the mid-'80s all the way to 2006 — last update of the site so far.

The beautiful thing about Depeche Mode is exactly this: the fact that they aren't afraid of being endearing and even vulnerable to an extent. It's hard to think of a rock act as big as Depeche Mode are that's able to pull that stuff with aplomb: Springsteen, maybe? I'm not expecting Metallica, Green Day or Kid Rock to ever put out anything that competes with Nebraska — or even Born to Run, just to be fair to everyone involved. And it cracks me the fuck up that someone would think that Springsteen is anywhere close to the hard-rock-minded hard-headed bastard that his fans on average are: which admittedly is a very wooden and unfortunate way of tying together Depeche Mode and Springsteen, but they were for me. Nebraska and Songs of Faith and Devotion came to me almost simultaneously, as the result of a musical discovery that saw me navigating a moment of true crisis, a moment where once again the answer was: ignore the noise. Rip it up and start again. And that third verse on Atlantic City very gracefully paired up with a track like Walking in My Shoes because they are unapologetic in their presentation, direct and deceptively raw — all qualities that all rockers like to pretend they have, but that very few people are able to properly handle, let alone effectively weaponise. They hide nothing, and yet find a specific, unique perspective on feelings that at some point bite any and everyone of us. It's insane to me that the most blue-collar of all the classic rockers, the one guy who never really lost touch with what he represents and stands for, and what some people still derogatorily refer to as "a synthpop band" managed to stumble upon such similarly expressive aesthetic markers at similarly crucial moments in their respective careers. And both things mean the world to all fans involved, because they remain in touch, they know themselves and who's coming to the shows — which warrants a constant stream of new people. "What you see is what you get" is not about repetitiveness: like it was meant to be for Sonic the Hedgehog, it may be a statement of intent and transparency, something simultaneously simpler and deeper than shallowness can ever allow for.

(On an unrelated note, I would literally kill for Springsteen's Butterscotch Blonde Telecaster, and while I perfectly know that's the most basic possible Telecaster color and literally any other American-made Butterscotch Blonde Fender Telecaster would potentially have the same aesthetic and practical functions as Springsteen's, it's a bit like that Borges story where he meets himself but forty years younger: sure, it's the same, but ever so slightly different in a way that feels a bit uncomfortable or counterfeit. Telecasters are great guitars. Rationally speaking if I had the money I would probably go with something with humbuckers on, but fuck me, that twang is something else.)

Necessarily, this entails the ability to pick up the pieces no matter what gets thrown your way, and rearrange them at the best of your abilities. And it's hard. Legitimately speaking, I don't think neither of the parties involved (including, possibly as the biggest offender, Sonic the Hedgehog) really did it every single time. But putting away our necessarily partial perspective as listeners who are not in the band, does it ultimately matter? Martin Gore's divorce produced a track like Precious, which in the context of any other band would probably have been met with some backlash of the "they've-gone-soft" variety; and yet Playing the Angel is widely regarded as one of their late-era records, because the ability to honestly process emotion was always part of Depeche Mode's vocabulary and tricks of the trade. It's what makes a song like The Things You Said fly, especially in the 101 concert movie. During the film, there's an extreme close-up on a kid with puffy cheeks, messy bangs, clear eyes and a tooth gap singing the most teenaged fucking bullshit ever and still, it flies, because Martin Gore's lyricism — while maybe not as elaborate as Tom Waits*', sure — hits the spot. It's not its simplicity as much as it is some form of universality, perhaps.

Case in point: the latest Depeche Mode record, which came out in March 2023, is called Memento Mori, and apparently the title was chosen before Andy Fletcher's untimely passing. There's a song on it called Always You and it's a very passionate and heartfelt elegy to passing time, and a paean to things that stay. It's easy to think it's a love song of sorts: it literally says "my love" as a constant refrain in verses, so I guess it is, what the fuck can I say guys?, but there are many things that you can love, and many ways that you can love. It doesn't try to be "hip" and "cool", it doesn't sound old-man-yells-at-cloud contrived, it does its thing and gives no fucks and as such it sticks the landing. A little honesty and conviction go a really long way.

*If there had to be a third act with irremovable cred, that's absolutely my man Tom Waits, but that gets a bit more on the intellectual side of things and requires a little bit of irony and suspension of disbelief I'd argue. He deserves his own post, in short.

#schismusic #music #schism writing #depeche mode #dave gahan #martin gore #alan wilder #andy fletcher #long form content #Youtube

[monsieurboyardee]

Modern au where lwj is chillin at wwx's apartment and walks into wwx's bathroom to find jc shakily trying to put on eyeliner and just doing a shithouse job of it so despite not liking jc lwj just sighs and steps in and helps him

When lwj opens the door jc let's out a startled "FUCK" and drops his drugstore eyeliner pencil into the sink, whipping around to snarl out "fucking KNOCK woulda?!!" Before remembering the shoddy black lines he had been attempting to draw on his face and whipping back Around in embarrassment. And it's not like lwj can be blamed, he didn't even know jc was here (he'd been staying over for the past few days while his plumbing was being fixed or smthn), but listen. Lwj's face is better suited for natural makeup. Some concealer there, a touch of blush there, some gel in his eyebrows and he's good.

But he's been playing around with makeup since he was fifteen, so he steps forward with a sigh and takes jc's pencil from the sink and cleans it off. He reaches up to lightly grasp Jc's chin, hand stopping halfway. "May I?"

And jc isn't crazy about makeup. In fact the pencil was a last minute kind of thing he stuffed into his basket while he was out this morning. But he's,,,he's always admired the male idols in the magazines, and the way their makeup highlights their best features. He's always Thought it was pretty. He's always,,,he's always kinda thought he might like to,,,to be,,,pretty, he guesses. So jc fights back the urge to snap at his adoptive brother's boyfriend, and acquiesces with a huff. Lwj gently takes his chin, looks over the too thin, too shaky lines and grimaces, a slight downturn of his lips.

Jc growls. "It's my first goddamn time, give me a break, shit's hard." Lwj lets out a huff, the lan equivalent of rolling his eyes. "Close your eyes." "Fuck no." But jc does, and lwj gets to work. Thank God he and jc have similar enough eye shapes, if his eyes had been hooded lwj doesn't know what he would've done.

When lwj is finished, he takes a step back and hands jc the pencil. "Take a look." Jc turns to the mirror and a soft rush of breath leaves him. Lwj didn't do much, it's just a simple line around his top lid, the very edge of his bottom lid smudged with black. But the lines are crisp, and there's a weight to the lines of it that make his eyes sharper, most pronounced. It's subtle, yet kinda,,,sexy, if jc is to be honest.

If jc is to be honest, he kinda loves it. "Wow." He says, turning his head this way and that, blinking at himself slowly. "Um. Thanks." Lwj nods, just as the sound of the front door opening reaches them. "Jiang Cheng!!" Wwx calls out. "I'm back!!" Lwj turns, before looking Back at jc. "If you want help, just ask." He walks out of the bathroom. Jc hears "Oh! Lan Zhan!! You came early!!" Followed by a long series of kissing noises and a bunch of wild giggles. Jc pulls a face. God, he's right fucking here, do they have to be so gross about it.

"Jiang Cheng!!" Wwx calls out. "I'm heading out with Lan Zhan, I'll bring back dinner, text me what you want!!" There's the sound of a door closing. Jc turns back to the mirror. He blinks again, turns his head this way and that, before huffing out a rueful laugh. "Goddammit."

And so jc keeps asking lwj for makeup tips and whatnot, and lwj gives him tips and pointers and recommends brands and on the occasion, gifts jc with a few items, bc he has extra and he's loaded anyhow. And when jc expresses an interest in more dramatic looks, lwj brings in mxy, who's a professional makeup artist and a friend of wwx's, and mxy just goes HAM bc jc is made of sharp angles and lines and he's naturally very attractive, but he's also got neutral undertones and no matter what you slap on his face he won't break out, and there's so many possibilities that mxy cant help but squeal in excitement. And so jc works hard at it and gets really good at makeup, and even tho he doesn't wear it all the time he likes to indulge every now and then, and everytime he finishes a look he looks at himself in the mirror and smiles.

(I saw that art of jc with the big yellow bow that came out a good while ago for some event or another and am just. Enamoured with the idea of jc being pretty and looking pretty, and liking it. I don't think he'd be super femme or anything like that, but I think he likes to know that he looks good, and likes to dabble in things that make him look good. It's more fanon than canon, but I just!! Want jc!!! To be pretty!!! And like it!!!!! And enjoy it!!!!! And I like the idea of jc and lwj bonding over makeup, I think it's cute. Like they fight like cats and dogs but bring up shiseido or estée lauder and they just fall into easy conversation. It makes wwx breathe out a sigh of relief, and makes him unbelievably happy: the love of his life and his lil brother, actually getting along for once.

Plus I love the idea of lxc asking surly jc, who constantly just throws his hair up in a bun and wears like adidas gym shorts, to go out with him to this really fancy restaurant, and jc shows up in a dark indigo suit with his full face done, and lxc's jaw just drops to the floor.)

#ace’s archives #copy pasted this from my twit #jiang cheng #mdzs #background wangxian #xicheng if you squint #modern au #makeup

[bluecreations]

Hello, Hope!

I really hope I read your bio right and that was your name and not you saying like... we should hold onto hope or something 😅

ANYWAY. This ask is in regards to the ask event you just reblogged that I'm running JUST today (about another 11hrs).

The OC I picked from your list was Diego.

So, Diego, when was the last time you laughed? What made you laugh? How would you describe your sense of humor?

Would you call yourself a person that takes life seriously?

Who are your best friends and what makes you so close to them? Like, do you share similar interests or have they helped you through a lot, etc?

What is the most important aspect of a really close relationship, romantic or otherwise?

How much would you say you've moved through your life? A lot? A couple times? Never at all?

Thank you for participating! :D

fajfdajkljfsla yes that's my name. Thank you for running this event!

Now for the Interview:

So, Diego, when was the last time you laughed?

Uh, I think about 8 or 9. I've been actively trying to suppress any memories from before 4 years ago. So you know. It's a little fuzzy. Not as fuzzy as I'd like it to be but with any luck if you ask me this a year from now I'll hopefully draw a blank. Complete mental fucking nirvana.

What made you laugh?

Uh, I think it was my dad. We were driving out of the woods from this 4 day camping trip, we were not camping people so it was a shit show. We were all un-showered, dirty and starving and we pulled into a Wendy's which was BIG deal when I was a kid cause they never let us have fast food. Anyways, my dad was like, teasing my mom about how she was eating her food. Like narrating her like they do on nature documentaries. I don't know. I just thought it was like the pinnacle of comedy at the time. Then nothing funny really ever happened after that.

How would you describe your sense of humor?

I don't know. Dry.

Would you call yourself a person that takes life seriously?

Sure.

Who are your best friends and what makes you so close to them? Like, do you share similar interests or have they helped you through a lot, etc?

Well, there's 9, and Winnie, and Eris, and I guess technically Kid is my friend but he's really more like a forcibly acquired little brother.

What makes me close to them? Well we-[This part of the Interview has been Redacted]. Also me and 9 go way back. But I guess if I had to pick like one of them for best friend status, it'd be Eris. She knows all this shit about art, it's crazy cause like, she isn't even an artist. She's like...I don't know what it's called but she's like the one of the people who work in IT. IT worker? Computer nerd? I don't know. I don't think computer nerd is politically correct, so uh, sorry. The point is she can do wild shit with computers. Anyways, she just knows all this art shit for like fun. Like it's a hobby. I just think it's cool. Also, she never broke my femur or shot me, unlike SOMEBODY-

[He calls loudly to Subject 9, who's being interviewed in the next room over. She is staring down the interviewer with a cold, unwavering gaze and not answering any of the questions, making the interviewer increasingly flustered and anxious.]

What is the most important aspect of a really close relationship, romantic or otherwise?

I guess, like, I don't know, like acceptance? Like, so you know how 9's telepathic and shit, so she read all our thoughts and see into everybody's heads like it's no big deal. Oh, you didn't know that? My condolences. Don't think too loudly. Try to keep your most annoying thoughts on the back burner for later. Yeah, she's probably reading them right now.

Anyways, so 9's a mind reader and she can like, she can see in my head and all the things I can't stand about myself. And instead of being like judgmental, or trying to change me or use these things she uh...she just accepts as is. Just takes me as I am, but also, like if I were to change, she'd accept that version of me too. It's nice. I guess that's really important important in a relationship. [He's visibly flustered, avoiding eye contact or looking at the wall where 9 is sitting on the other side of. He repeatedly itches the back of his neck].

How much would you say you've moved through your life? A lot? A couple times? Never at all?

Yeah I've moved a lot. Ever since I escaped [REDACTED] I haven't stopped moving. They can't catch ya if you don't stay in any one place for any length of time.

[He says this final sentence while doing finger guns].

This concludes the interview.

Thank you so much @queerlilchinchin !!!!

#writeblr #writing asks #wip #oc #i hope i made it clear he is a little bit of a himbo

[phantomfitzroy]

I got caught and tagged like a wild animal by @cromerholt AND @noellevanious :-) quastions time

Are you named after anyone? Technically yes. When I listened to TAZ:Graduation I was really caught on Fitzroy Maplecourt, Knight in Absentia to the realm of Goodcastle 's name for some reason. Don't get me wrong, Griffin made a very fun character but I really don't associate my attachment to the name to him at all. It was more like inspiration, you know? Also my middle name, Aleksandr, is from an old ass youtuber I used to watch religiously in high school. If you know you know. I still use it as a first name, though, Fitz and Aleks are both good names I will respond to. Fun fact, my best friend called me Aleks through our junior/high school before I knew I was trans. I guess it just stuck.

When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. I watched a vid of an older woman with Alzheimer's talking with her daughter. She repeatedly asked her daughter to stop calling her mom, which did get to me, but what got to me most was her gradually remembering her daughter as the video went on while she looked at old photos and trinkets from her past. It really got to me.

Do you have kids? Nope :-) I fluctuate between not wanting kids and maybe wanting kids. I'm sure I'll have a better idea when I'm older and actually can take care of myself first.

What sports do you play/have you played? I used to play basketball in junior high. Also if you count marching band? Our director had us doing laps around the football field before practice and shit.

Do you use sarcasm? A very hesitant yes. I hardly use it, the closest I could say I get to sarcasm most of the time is just telling silly lies to people, but there's never any ill will behind it ever. I just like seeing what I can get people to believe, but I always let people know I lied after.

What's the first thing you notice about someone? In a physical sense their smile. I'm drawn to people's mouths for some reason. But in a broader sense the first thing I notice is usually the way they interact with other people.

Eye color? Hazel. I've got this cool ring of orangeish gold around my pupils.

Scary movies or happy endings? Depends on the day. I usually like scary movies though. As long as the ending is satisfying, it doesn't have to be happy for me to have enjoyed the experience.

Any talents? I don't like talking myself up but I am pretty good at acting and singing. Admittedly, I think I'm a better singer now than before my voice dropped from HRT.

Where were you born? Midwest. Minnesota. You're not getting anything closer than that, I shant dox myself.

Hobbies? Art. I draw and have been trying to get back into painting. I also technically do theatre as a hobby currently, since I don't get paid for the performances I'm in. And viddy games :-)

Any pets? I do not legally have pets, at least not in my own home, but I consider my dad's dogs my dogs since I take care of them as much (if not more) than they do lmao. Also one of my mom's dogs is technically mine, since I did pay for him when we got him, but I haven't been able to have pets anywhere I've lived since I moved out so he stays with my momma.

Height? 5'4"... I thought I was 5'5" until I was 18 years old.

Favorite school subject? I liked most science classes in school. The graphic design class I took in high school was fuckin awesome. Currently, though, I'm trying to teach myself to code and I'm enjoying that immensely.

Dream job? Professional acting!! Ideally I'd do live theatre, musical or otherwise. But I think I'd also be happy doing film. I would also be very happy as a live theatre director, though I'd need more experience directing first. I would also love love love to be a part of a professional improv troupe. Because I'm a dweeb. And good at improv.

Now I get to tag people. @genderkiller @gravellymistaken @nilovalentine @thesexiestlobster if you guy wanna do this :-) also anyone else who wants to, this was fun smiles

[zealous-whispers-of-us-redux]

homecoming

(A/N: I tweaked an old, unposted [on this blog] fic of mine for @multi-stann and her 1k writing event. I picked the smut prompt: "Love the taste of you, but I need more.”) :)

Warning: demon sex and desecration in/of a church. Please don't read if that offends you!!

SMUT AHEAD

Intoxicating dreams. The feeling of her mouth around his cock. His teeth sinking into her plush bottom lip. Heat racketing up his spine until all he knew was her. Wrapping a hand around her neck and feeding on her pleasure as he fucked her. Taking anything and everything she would offer him. He missed her. He missed her.

He...

Bucky jolted awake in the confession booth. Sweat dripped down his face, and he could still feel the flames of Hell licking his skin. He was hard in his slacks. Crossing himself absently, Bucky muttered a few prayers under his breath because this was happening again. He knew what it all meant. He has been away for centuries, but his past was finally catching up to him. The more vivid the dreams, the closer she was to finding Bucky. And the closer she was to finding Bucky, the more his true nature rose within him as his body fought against the angels' invisible chains. Bucky was hungrier than he had been in a long time, but the runes on his skin made him unable to leave the church, let alone go out and feed.

He checked his watch, and as he expected, it read 3:17 a.m. Bucky's heart thumped excitedly in his chest. He knew that she knew where he was. Finally, she had found him, and she would rescue him from this hell. He opened the door to the confessional just as she blew into the church, stalking nearer and nearer until Bucky could take her in for the first time in years. She looked just as beautiful as he remembered- wild and passionate with eyes that glowed from within. With each step she took, the floor cracked underneath her feet. Crucifixes clattered to the ground, and the stained-glass window shattered, raining colored glass down onto both of them. The statue of the Virgin Mary cried, and she grinned.

"There you are," she said, and Bucky could not take his eyes off of her.

"You found me," he croaked in the language he never forgot, no matter how many beatings he took.

"You’ve been calling out to me for ages, but your jailers kept you well-hidden. Even my father couldn't see you."

"They summoned me," said Bucky bitterly. "They summoned me, an' they stole me as a barginin' chip."

"If they think they can stop this, they're wrong. It is only the beginning. My father has gathered his troops. I asked him to wait until I found you. Lord Belial wasn't happy with me, but I came for you anyway. "

Bucky squirmed at the innuendo, his gaze dropping to her mouth. His stomach rumbled, and she must have heard it because she smiled. He reached out for her, and she threw herself into his arms. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing her in.

“You do remember me, don't you?” she asked, sounding vulnerable in a way he would never expect.

“How could I ever forget my baby?" Bucky asked.

"How come you haven't left this church if you remember me?"

"The runes." He gestured to the symbols carved into his skin. "I can't leave."

"You can leave if the angels who created the runes are dead."

"What did you do?"

"They gambled away their vessels, and I burnt them to a crisp," she said, baring her teeth. "It was a fitting punishment, Father said. If they thought they could take away what is mine, they were wrong if they thought they could hurt you without retribution. They deserve worse than what I gave them."

"You-"

"You're free, Bucky," she said firmly, placing her hands against his cheeks. "What will you do now?"

Bucky kissed her, and it was like slipping a key into a lock. He had forgotten almost everything about his old life, except for her, but she saved him and was now giving everything back. He vividly remembered Hell again, remembered how it was not as dreadful as the angels brainwashed him into believing it was. It was his home. It was hellhounds and halls of crystals glittering in the low lamplight. It was decadent food that demons didn't need but ate anyway. It was her naked in his bed, waiting for him to return from corrupting souls on Earth. It was sex all the time, whenever Bucky wanted. She was as insatiable as he was.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“It's been so long,” Bucky replied, pawing at her greedily. “I need ya right the fuck now. I'm starvin.'”

“Remember when we fucked in that church in Romania? Right under the statue of their precious Mary?” she asked.

“Hell, I’ve missed you."

As they kissed again, Bucky felt her heating up under his hands until tendrils of flame erupted from her skin. She pulled back, and Bucky saw her eyes alight with hellfire. He gathered her closer with a groan, knowing he would never get burned. She kissed him again, clawing at his hair as she swung herself into his lap. The confession booth swayed dangerously, but both ignored it. Bucky sunk his teeth in her bottom lip, and she snarled, scraping her nails over his scalp in retaliation. They pulled apart to blink at one another, then she dove to take off Bucky's shirt. Her fingers burned his skin so good, leaving red streaks that would fade quickly. Bucky could feel it crawling under his skin again, the hunger for sex that he hadn’t felt in ages. He wanted; he wanted to feed off of her pleasure and make her scream.

“I see those pretty black eyes,” she said, drawing Bucky’s gaze from her bare chest. “I knew they wouldn’t succeed.”

“Missed you,” Bucky growled, sucking her jaw so fiercely that he drew blood, “Take yer panties off for me.”

“Ask me nicely.”

She dug her nails into his pecs- a warning. Bucky rolled his eyes as he carried her out of the confessional and into a booth.

“Please take off yer panties. Sweetheart,” he said.

“Okay, darling, whatever you say," she replied.

“Disgusting. Don't ever call me that again. An' take your fuckin' panties off, huh?"

“You're such a dick."

"Hey, leave me alone! It's been two hundred years."

She shoved Bucky’s shoulder, trying to push him off of her enough so that she could wiggle out of her bottoms. Bucky ignored her unspoken command. He grabbed her wrists and slammed her arms over her head.

“Keep ‘em there," he said.

“How am I expected to take my underwear off? Think things through, will you?” she said.

“Yer bein’ unusually bratty today.” Bucky wrapped his lips around one of her nipples. “Ain’t had anyone put you in yer place for a while, I guess.”

“Oh, please. My father is one of the seven kings of Hell. If anything, you should submit to me. I remember how much you liked it when I made you beg at my feet like a hound."

“It's been decades since I’ve had ya underneath me. Now that I have ya, I ain’t just gonna give that up so willingly. Stop bein’ a brat."

“For Baal's sake, just do something instead of talking about it."

“No swearin’, we’re in church,” Bucky said. “An’ keep yer arms above yer head. No touchin.’”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“An’ shut that mouth a’ yours too. You don’t want me to gag ya, do you?”

"Who the fuck has been going around and telling lies saying I wouldn't like that?" she asked with a smile.

Bucky softened. He knew he was probably looking at her like a dumbass, but she was so beautiful and here for the first time in a long time. Bucky wouldn't want his first feeding session in centuries to be with anyone else. If a beast like him could love, he was sure he would love her.

"Missed you," Bucky said softly, tucking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and stuffing them in her mouth. "So much."

"Missed you too," she mumbled.

"Did you make 'em suffer?"

"You know I did. They hurt you."

She said everything he needed to know in just seven words. His hunger overwhelmed him, and Bucky blacked out until all he could see was her. Flames tickled him as Bucky leaned down to kiss a fiery trail down her stomach. She growled at him in an ancient tongue, and the foundations of the church shook at her words. The statue of Mary cracked in two the louder her words got, but Bucky ignored it, not content on just eating her out- he wanted her screaming. But she was a hard one to please. Bucky could rarely get her to scream when he ate her out, no matter the amount of coaxing he tried.

"Love the taste of you, but I need more," he said, his tongue flicking over her clit. "We still gotta topple that statue."

"Come up here and fuck me. It's been so long."

Bucky left the plush comfort of her thighs and made his way up her body, pressing kisses along the way.

"I know it has, babe," he said, kissing her forehead in a display of comfort that they were both unaccustomed to. "But I’m here now, an’ nothin’ can pull me away from ya again, you hear me?”

"I'll kill anyone who tries," she said.

Bucky grinned sharply. "That's my girl."

"Not yours," she countered.

"No?"

He reached down and drew her legs up around his waist. She locked her ankles together, holding him there so tight he could not move, not even to get inside her. He growled, trying to break free.

"I'm not yours," she repeated.

"If you fuckin' think for one second you ain't mine, you're wrong."

"I'm a fucking demon. No one owns me."

"Never said 'owns.' I said mine. Now, you gonna lemme fuck you or not?"

"No. How is it different?"

Bucky groaned, dropping his head onto her chest. He pressed a few kisses at her breast, bit her nipple.

"C'mon, gimme a break. I'm starvin.'"

"No, not until you tell me."

"Fuck's sake. You're mine, an' I'm yours, okay? An' I don't wanna feed on anyone else, ever again. You're enough for me."

"Okay."

"You don't have to reciprocate."

"I put a war on hold, and I killed three angels to find you," she said flatly.

"Yeah," Bucky said, his vessel's heart fluttering. "You did."

She loosened her grip on Bucky, allowing him to slip inside her for the first time. His body shuddered in delight at feeling her again. He could taste her pleasure in the air, and his tongue flicked out to gather it from her lips as they kissed. Bucky knew he wasn't going to last long, but he would be (more) damned if he finished before she did.

"Come on, move," she said, her nails pricking his back.

The pace Bucky chose was brutal, and she moaned, arching her back. He remembered now the way she’d never utter more than a moan. No matter the amount of coaxing, Bucky could never make her scream. She had passed out from him fucking and feeding on her a few times, but even then, all he managed to get were a few calls of his name. It kept him desperate to please her even though she was the one feeding him.

"Go faster," she sighed, her head tipped back enough so that Bucky could get at her neck with his teeth.

"I gotcha, babe. Wan' my hand?"

"Yes, please."

Naturally, Bucky obliged. He wrapped one of his big hands around her neck, squeezing gently and then harder. Her mouth fell open against his as he fucked her, and they stayed like that, panting into each other's mouths. And Bucky wanted so much for someone to burst in and see them like this, see him fucking her into the ground and feeding off her desire.

He pulled out of her when he got an idea. She speared him with a glare, but he calmed her down, urging her to get to her hands and knees. Bucky smacked her ass, and she muffled a cry into her forearms. The flames on her skin burned hotter and hotter the more Bucky spanked her until sweat was pouring down his chest. He gathered her hair up in his hand and dragged her up from the floor, curling a possessive hand around her throat. Flames licked his skin wherever her body was pressed to his. Bucky could feel it rising within her, and he gasped at the taste of it after so long without. It was the best drug in the world.

"C'mon, rub your clit for me, and scream when you come. You know it makes it taste better," he demanded.

"Make it worth my while, and I will."

"You wan' it? I'll give it to you," Bucky said, squeezing her neck until she was gasping. "Now, come for me. Gimme it."

It only took a couple more sweeps of her fingers over her clit and a quick kiss from Bucky for her to come. He kissed her to muffle her screams, drinking her down, thirsty for everything she could give him. He continued fucking her through her orgasm, his eager pants ringing around the church.

"Again, again, gimme one more. So hungry, babe, you taste so good," Bucky panted.

It didn't take long for her to come again, and Bucky fed on her, moaning as he felt her slipping down his throat. He licked his lips and pushed himself entirely inside her, holding still until she triggered his own orgasm.

"That's a good girl," Bucky cooed, kissing her to get the last of her orgasm.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, looking upside down at him.

He snuggled closer. "Yeah."

"Are you pulling out or what?"

"Nah, wanna stay here for a minute or two. Missed this. So happy y'found me. You saved me."

"I always will," she said, scowling.

Bucky laughed, burying his face into her hair.

"How's Hell, anyway?"

"It's good. Will you come back with me?"

"I'll go anywhere you want me to."

"We'll get those runes off your skin."

"'Kay, but later. I'm still ravenous," said Bucky.

She grinned, all sharp teeth and fire in her eyes.

"Come on, then. Let's go to a real bed."

"Lead the way," said Bucky, flipping the bird toward the Mary statue that lay shattered on the ground.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #demon au #incubus!bucky #demon!reader #smut #angst #maybe?? #multi-stann’s 1k writing event

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

[thedumbguywithaheart43]

A spark of hope

chapter 6 story 1 The talk

1. Everything was quiet. Sparks ,Twilight ,and Spike all sat alone in the friendship map room. No one dared say a word.

2. The silence was practically unbearable. Sparks himself felt as if he needed to prepare to fight or run. Years of survival instincts we're telling him to act yet he fought down the urge to act.

3. He was a guest here and for spikes sake she needed to hear out Twilight or at least partake in conversation. Still didn't make the situation any less tense.

4."So Sparks you say your a dragon expert. Would you mind explaining what caused you to take this path."Twilight was taking quick and calm breaths. She was still a little intimidated by the silent stallion across from her.

5. Which in a way was kind of funny to her. She defeated most evil beings in all of Equestria an yet a single stallion with a raised voice scared her."Well I've been all around Equestria and outside of it for the last 10 or so years."

6. Sparks then looked away being careful about how to word this."I wanted to find a place away from everypony. where I could be alone. I guess you could say the dragon lands were the perfect place for me most ponies were too scared to go there and the dragons themselves showed little interest in me."

7. Sparks then looked down as hooves as his eyes started to feel heavy. Part of him was holding back tears."and why is it you felt need to get away from everyone?"Twilight took noticed of the sorrowfull look he had.

8."Princess sparkle with all due respect that is my secret to keep but.... Let's just say I wanted to get away from ponys who hurt me."a single tear dropped onto the table as rain began to fall. The pitter patterns of droplets hitting the outer Castle filled the silence that took over the room.

9. Twilight couldn't bring herself to speak. The way sparks spoke was filled with pain. The kind of pain you don't usually see in ponys.but she needed to carry on.

10."And why do you want to help Spike why do you really want to help him."The question took Sparks back. This mare was different."I saw Spike after his rejection. I saw the look he had...." He looked away again giving a slight grunt."Anyways I just wanted to help."

11. Twilight nodded once more. Admittedly she had a sense of curiosity around the stallion as if an unknown force was drawing her attention.

12."This training is it safe?"voice had a more natural tone as she spoke which also cause many of Sparks instincts to settle.

13."my training would never cause more than a few bumps and bruises. I'll teach him to fight, survive, and general knowledge about himself mostly dealing with his biology."Twilight took a breath.

14."then I shall allow you Sparks to continue your training provided it stays within the ponyville area and the surrounding Forest and that you keep this hunting to areas where ponies can't see. I dare not risk his safety."

15. He shrugged."That sounds like acceptable terms. If you need to reach me for any reason I'll be staying just within the everfree at my campsite."

16. Twilight couldn't help but look with a bit of concern. "Are you sure you'd rather stay there there are plenty of ins you could stay in here in ponyville."

17. Sparks began to chuckle."I appreciate the concern but I'm not a big fan of ponies or crowds and I ain't have a bit to my name."He did attempt a smile in order to try and ease her concerns.

18. Problem was that his smile only made Twilight feel slightly more uneasy. There was nothing wrong with it. it seems genuine and yet she can't help but feel nervous. As if the creature in front of her was a force of nature.

19. It was the same tingling she would get from an animal in the everfree or wild weather from the Eastern skies. Whether or not made by ponies but by natural events that cannot be controlled.

20. But at all she nodded her head at him."Me and Spike will meet you at your site tomorrow I wish to see this training first hand to ensure yours and his safety."

21. He took another calm breath. "Very well princess I shall see myself out I do wish you a good evening and Spike don't forget your tail crunches."with that he turned and headed for the door no one said a word yet so much emotion could still be felt in the room.

22. Spark opened the door as the last droplets fell."it's a beautiful day outside."It was all he could say as he walked into the distance back to the relative safety of his camp."birds are singing flowers are blooming.... And the little spark left its camp now it has to face the fire will it crumble into the flames or join The blaze."

23. He then shook his head."I got to stop talking to myself I get way too poetic when I do."and with that a new story begins in his life and spikes. Let's see how things go tomorrow

#mlp fandom #writing #fanfic #ocs #comedy #dramatic

[lizacstuff]

Liza that 3rd fragman 👀 "if I was born a 100 times I'd fall in love with you everytime" Eda saying this is their last obstacle and nothing can separate them, serkan's "I'll be right back, close your eyes I'm here" If this isn't all a red flag for shits about to hit the fan then I don't know what is LOL (but also how cute to Edser look and them telling each other they love each other very much 😭😭😭)

That fragman is both the SWEETEST and the MOST OMINOUS thing I’ve ever seen. ALL AT ONCE.  

Friends... we’re gonna go through some things.  That being said, everything is going to be great. These writers have been solid so far, and I have faith they have come up with something really interesting to increase the longevity of this show. And I don’t know about you, but I’m prepared to go through some things if it means keeping Eda and Serkan for longer.  (I heart them)

This show is about Eda and Serkan and their love story, at it’s core it’s a comedy, it will all lead to happy things, but... yeah, buckle up! 

I have a lot of asks both about the fragman and last ep, so I’m going to answer a bunch under the cut. 

Anonymous said: The fandom theories about episode 28 have gotten so wild that I literally think the most shocking thing would be if they actually got married and were not separated (emotionally or physically). What if the earlier painful episodes were to make us believe that things couldn't possibly go right in 28 and it's a reverse psychology trick?

You could be right!  I like your thinking. I checked on twitter and I had to back away slowly. The juvenile temper tantrums were too much for me today.  

Look, I think it’s clear something big is coming. It has to, there has to be something that shakes up the show. Some of the theories are more upsetting and catastrophic than others, but the writers won’t do anything that dings either character or their love for one another.  Whatever happens will showcase the connection between these two and the chemistry between the actors, that’s the point of everything, and anything that does those things is gonna be a-okay with me. 

@jan31​ Hi Liza. Do you think we are going to see the wedding in 28 or they will leave it on a cliffhanger for next week. Lots of theories going round mainly cos of Neslihan saying new dimensions coming in episode 29, which could just mean married life etc. I have seen suggestions of memory loss, it's all a dream since episode one. I would personally love Eda to wake up like in episode one but for it to be a total turn around and she is the boss and Serkan the employee. Eda being robot yildiz appeals to me!!! I know it will never happen but leave me here with my dreams!!

I started the day at 90% sure they’ll be married in 28/29, but now I’m down to like 30% that they’ll get married in these episodes. I really, really want them to get married before whatever happens happens, because every scenario I can think of for this reset or starting again, seems like it would be better if they were married.  

However, the shooting spoilers from today, make me question that. Namely the videos where Hande appears to still be wearing the ring on her right hand. We shall see, that could be for many reasons. 

Honestly, though, I wouldn’t hate a memory loss storyline. Seeing one of them (and Serkan’s line in the trailer makes it seem like it might be him) lose their memory and have to fall in love all over again? There are worse fates for a shipper than getting to experience that all again but in a different way.  

Anonymous said: Your response to the fandom drama anon was so good, it's exactly how I feel. While I don't know what the old posts that were like are (that's shady as fuck) I did see all the other drama go down and wow. The actresses def need to stay in their lane and some of the fans, hoooo boy, it's obvious they're young based off their reactions alone. Had to unfollow some people once I realized what they were like. Also some of the IRL shipping reminded me of col*fer stuff, reading into everything and blowing it out of proportion (which then gets picked up by paps....). But you're right in that at least the show related drama is tame compared to OUAT. But still, people being too careless even while they know the paps see everything and harass Kerem and hande (omg did you see the video of hande the other day stopped in the van and she looked so overwhelmed 😔)

You’re referencing this post here about yesterday’s drama. 

Today Neslihan made it worse by addressing everything and claiming she didn’t like all those Hande-bashing posts because... wait for it... she was HACKED. Oy. Hackers got in and went back two years to like gross posts about Hande? Sure, Jan. While I don’t believe that for a second, I guess that at least gives her cover with Hande so they can all pretend it’s true and move on so it’s not awkward on set.  But, yikes, she needs to consult a publicist, she took a narrative that was circulating in certain circles in fandom and made sure all her followers were aware. Not very savvy. 

As for the paps coming after Hande, yes I did see her in the car, she did look overwhelmed. Back off vultures!!! That’s why I think Kerem sometimes throws himself to the wolves so that doesn’t happen. She always handles them like a pro, but you can tell she’d rather be anywhere else on earth than talking to them. 

The pap stuff is worse than I’ve seen before, they’re like vultures circling for any conjecture (sometimes made up out of thin air) they can turn into a question and blame fans. OUAT actors dealt with nothing like this. Also I can’t believe they never ask about the show. Like after last week? They could legit ask about the sex scene which probably would have given them some angle on the actors that they wanted, (especially since it was too hot for Turkish TV) but they let that pass them by, and instead asked the same questions about being together that they never answer. Dumbasses. They are not only awful people, they are awful at their jobs. 

In Van, the paps pay off crew members for info, they always know more than fans. Also I don’t remember stars of my shows getting this level of tabloid attention before. Except for on Riverdale, Lili and Cole generated that level of interest, and while I didn’t pay terribly close attention to them, I feel like they rarely talked to the paps, were just photographed. Also I don’t suspected the CW of calling the paps on them, but I suspect either the network or production company of sometimes calling them on Hande and Kerem. 

Anonymous said: Do you think it’s weird that they didn’t touch the kidnapping at all in either trailer? They might not have filmed it in time for the 1st one but certainly the 2nd. And I’m definitely not complaining about the ones we got because its like a fairytale but the kidnapping was the cliffhanger...? 🧐 I think they should’ve just left the princes storyline at “he went back to his country” but then they didn’t so......

If they’d left his story at just going back to his country, then the Prince really wouldn’t have served his purpose. He was brought on to cause some sort of trouble, so they probably need him to cause the trouble before he goes, lets hope it ends with this kidnapping!

And to answer your question, yes, I do think it’s weird that neither trailer touched on it. On any other show I’d think it was a huge red flag, but on this show maybe not as much because  a) there’s obviously a lot of romance in this episode, it’s not crazy that they are focusing on that to draw people in with the promos  b) this show likes to do cliffhangers that end up being no big deal, that happens a lot.  

Who knows it could turn out to be a big deal that shapes the rest of the episode in some unexpected way (Eda’s captured the whole episode and she’s dreaming about wedding prep, or... who knows) but I think it’s more likely that they resolve in the first 5-10 minutes and then move on.  Since we know from the summary (not that I trust those) that Serkan goes on the bachelor weekend, it feels like the Prince is taken care of prior to that. I don’t think he’d leave her alone for a second if there was a chance the Prince was still a threat. Perhaps Babaanne is pissed he tried to kidnap Eda and tells them she’ll handle it herself???

Anonymous said: Semiha not being in the promo is highkey suspicious. The actress is promoting the episode lol. She's about to Evil Queen this wedding ceremony but you know what, I'm fine with whatever she has planned if they end up married at the end of the day. What's funny is that since a lot of fans these days will assume that there will be shocking negative plot twists, not actually having one here would be a plot twist so I hope the writers keep them together for whatever's next haha

You’re not wrong, at this point, having this wedding take place would be a shocking twist for all of us!  As for Semiha... hmmm... it will be interesting to see what her reaction is to Eda being kidnapped by her pick of suitor. Serkan Bolat might be the son of the man indirectly responsible for her parents death, but he would never hurt her. Take note, Grandbag!  

Anonymous said: Do you mind sharing your speculative scenarios?

After the trailer today, I don’t know if I can even remember some of them. 

Memory loss

Grandma forces Serkan to choose between Eda and his company/wealth,  he chooses Eda and they start over from scratch with nothing

Time jump

AU starting over, showing a different path they might have taken together

Dream

These actors playing different characters in a new story

I don’t think the last three are likely, but they did spring to mind after some of Neslihan’s teases. 

Anonymous said: So this show doesn't get like fantastic ratings (it actually seems to be on the lower end compared to all other dizis airing) but the social media engagement is off the charts. Why is that?!? Is the show just extraordinarily popular internationally? or that this is a "shipping" show? I'm floored by the numbers - its like no other show/fandom is even trying

The ratings were terrific during the summer. But to your point, it has a huge fandom both in Turkey and internationally, but it’s worth noting that most of those charts you see where it beats every other show in every imaginable social metric is just for Turkey.  

It’s one of those lightning in a bottle situations where you get the right property and the right actors together at the right time and magic happens.  And, for sure, the number one reason is the shipping. Shipping drives fandom engagement, and a fantastic ship with a juicy, fun, tropey love story is what this show offers. It also offers up two extremely attractive, talented, likeable leads with off-the-charts chemistry (plus the added speculation about an off-camera relationship that has intrigued more than a few fans, tabloids and gossip sites and fueled interest) who have done a good job of building the fanbase through their social media engagement. Plus the timing is part of it as well. I don’t know about you, but this show hit the spot during this pandemic and the horror of 2020. We all needed this escape. 

Anonymous said:Do you think something happened in the writers room after the backlash of 25 and fan disappointment after Ayse's announcement? I feel like a switch flipped and now we're in fanficland with how much good content we've gotten in these last two episodes. Like I thought maybe they should wrap up the series soon before the characters got completely off the tracks but they may be finding their groove now and I'm interested to see what their next twist is after they can write out Balca/Seymen.

I don’t know about a switch flip, this show has been fanfic land since the first episode!  The tropes! That is how I described it to multiple people when I first started watching: an AU fanfic come to life.

As for the writing changes, no, I don’t think backlash after 25 affected 26 or 27, because 26 was already 90% shot, and 27 already written. However, I assume they themselves could tell that 25 got just too dark and had strayed pretty far from the DNA of the series. While I didn’t think it was bad, it was not fun to watch and this show ought to be fun to watch. 

Let’s hope, however, that the backlash affects future episodes in that they know what works... and what doesn’t.  The last two episodes definitely felt reminiscent of the first batch of episodes. Light, funny, romantic. If they can keep that tone... I’ll be thrilled.

Anonymous said: i didn't realize how much i missed "together" edser until watching 27.. it's been so long since they were "officially" together and we also had such few episodes of it.. ppl have been comparing it to 12 and while in some ways i agree, edser are always so different here than they were there. 12 was them navigating their new relationship.. they were more shy and finding their footing.. here they are very much established, as they should be after knowing their love for so long in comparison to 12!

Yes, it was lovely. You know I’ve preached a lot about how even though Eda and Serkan were broken up, they’ve still been together all this time. And it’s true, but there is something about them truly being together that is magical. We never got enough of that the first time around (a writing mistake in my opinion) and they’re so good together it’s lovely to watch. 

Anonymous said: Serkan not asking for help from Balca when asking his team for help with the marriage gifts preparations and refusing her offer of help when she asked made me so happy. Good job Serkan! He's learning! She's not trustworthy!

Yes, that was a good moment. And he was eyeing her very warily when she offered. The thing I don’t understand is how has no one caught on that she’s working with Babaanne? That entire office is filled with nosy people, has no one remarked on the number of times Balca has gone up to the office or they’ve disappeared for lunch at the same time? Come on Leyla! Come on Melo! Notice these things!  

Anonymous said: Fingers crossed that we finally make progress towards getting rid of Seiman & Balca now that all the girls were drugged and Eda was put in the car in the last episode. Unless Seiman has a change of heart and takes Eda back inside before anyone wakes & the guys get there then the show has to address it. Although I do not think Balca is going to back down unless Serkan straight up tells her he has zero interest in her and never will. Totally fine if that happens in the next episode.

Will Balca backdown even if she’s humiliated like that? She’s so delusional I’m not sure. What I am sure is that she’s dangerous. This came in before we saw the other two fragmans that have no mention of the kidnapping. Hard to picture how that is so easily resolved. Unless she frees herself (which seems unlikely in her groggy state) or maybe Melo’s future boyfriend is able to stop it before they get far?  Or I don’t know. I just know that I want to see Serkan lose his mind and all the other characters see Serkan lose his mind and then I want it to be over. LOL.

Anonymous said: As much as I am loving everything Edser, I cannot wait for Seiman, Balca and Grandma to be gone. And I am even more annoyed to think that the show might try to redeem all 3 characters. All 3 of them are truly awful people and no need to waste air time trying to make the audience think any different. Just my opinion...🤷🏻‍♀️. Show please finally expose those 3 for the psychos they are and get rid of them.

Bye bitches!  I don’t think there’s any redemption for Balca and Seiman. They both have poisoned/dosed people, hard to come back from that.  And there is no need to redeem them because neither is compelling enough to be a long-term character. But maybe Granny, we probably will see a redemption arc for her. 

Anonymous said: i know you were worried a few weeks ago that with ayse leaving as writer, we probably wouldn't have the same sort of comedy as previous episodes... but istg the whole kiz isteme scene, especially with chef alex, had me almost crying with laughter. especially when serkan off the cuff just goes "well if that's an option..." to everyone misunderstanding alex "wanting" ayfer for 2 nights and then eda ready to beat him with the flowers he bought her... comedic gold lmao.

SO GOOD! I was thrilled to see that sort of comedy, the sort of comedy we’d come to expect, from these writers. I think it bodes very well indeed!  

That scene was amazing. I know Neslihan said that much of it was improvised. Probably that line from Serkan (since Serkan is SO out-of-his-mind in love I’m not sure he could even joke about having Eda only two nights a week! LOL) was improv from Kerem, and Aydan asking about the other nights, and Seyfi bringing up the weekend. And Eda’s very Hande-esque “Ser-KAN.” 

I just love rewatching that scene and checking out everyone who is breaking character and just losing it. Cagri most of all. He’s blurred aback there but you can see Ferit spends the whole time laughing or trying to stifle a laugh. Reminds me of Cagri in the scene in 18 when they’re watching the security footage he was losing it in that scene as well. 

Anonymous said: i'm scared - I think they are really about to give us all of these happy EdSer scenes only to have something happen RIGHT before the wedding ceremony due to Babaanne. Based on the last episode, I don't think there's any chance of a breakup (knock on wood) but what if Serkan gets arrested, goes to jail for 2 years, and we get a time jump?

This was sent before the last two teasers, so yes I think something is gonna happen. We shall see!  I don’t really think Serkan going to jail for 2 years is in the cards, at least I hope not!  Besides if Babaanne did that she would have no hopes of ever reconciling with Eda, so that seems unlikely she’d follow through and leave him there for so long a time. 

Anonymous said: With the last week's sex scene, they did a lot of fade outs but the scene was basically still there so it wasn't much wasted effort for the actors. But for what they're teasing in episode 28 - idk how they can get away with showing them in the shower at all if Serkan lifting Eda with her clothes on had required blurring? Is Eda dropping her robe even pushing it? It's intriguing indeed.

Great questions. We’re 36 hours from finding out (well I'm longer than that because I wait for the English subs, hee hee) All I know is I want to see these scenes.. one way or another! 

#sen cal kapimi #edser #Sen Çal Kapımı #sck spoilers #sck specualtion #sckask #sck episode discussion #asklizac #Anonymous

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Bloody, Beaten, Bruised or Maximum Effort

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst @amyofaquitaine

This passage contains potentially: scenes of one (or more) characters swearing, blood, self-harm (unintentional) and scenes of a violent nature. whump content and potential tear-jerking moments.

Summary: In this 'chapter' Kirby has her first fight in New Jersey, and stay in New Jersey for a week, leading to some heavy whump content by a certain someone.

Kirby's POV:

Standard match, one on one with a ten minute time limit. Not much for a debut but it's made into a big deal upon learning the opponents were male and female and not the standard male on male.

Jobber VS Newcomer.

Andrew Strong VS Kirby 'Gluttony' Lucifarian.

The bell rings and the fight starts.

"Strong throws the first punch and misses."

"The Ogress capitalises and hits him with a Feeding Frenzy."

"Strong is backed into the turnbuckle but the Ogress continues her attack."

"The referee is forced to separate them and Strong gets The Ogress in a lock-up."

"A swift knee to the stomach and Strong is staggered."

"The Ogress hits Strong with the Organ Grinder and it looks like it's all over."

"She covers Strong and … one … two … three. She's done it! The Ogress has won!"

Walking back to the locker room, I caught a glimpse of Moolah as she sneers at me and I shrug her off, focusing on getting into some clean clothes and going back to the hotel. I change and walk out of the dressing room with my bag slung over my shoulder.

"Good work out there, Kirby."

I recognise the voice and turn to see André, "Thank you, Drey."

"Moolah, doesn't seem to like you girls."

"We're stealing the hag's time in the sun. She always hates people who do that, even if she brings them in. I'll see you soon Drey."

"See you soon, Kirby."

I start walking back to the hotel when I start hearing a voice behind me, gradually getting closer.

"Hey, Miss, I think you dropped this." A distinctly masculine voice called out.

I turned around to see what the person wanted. To my surprise they had picked up my wallet, "Huh, I didn't feel it fall out of my pocket, thank you."

The man handed it to me before introducing himself, "Paul Orndorff. I saw your match earlier, you're fast for a giant, tough too."

"Thank you, Mr Orndorff."

He looked over his shoulder, "Oh, well, I have to go, Piper's waiting for me."

"Uh well, bye Mr Orndorff."

He left without another word and I unzipped my bag slightly to place my wallet inside, zipping it back up and continuing back to the hotel. I spent the night in a cramped hotel room and went to the gym the next morning.

Setting myself up at a heavy bag and practicing as per usual, no interruptions, no one else near by to talk to.

It was as if my mind just drifted away and I went into this mental fog, no gloves on but punching as if I did, breaking through the skin on my knuckles and only stopping after I noticed smears of blood on the heavy bag.

I wiped it down and bandaged my knuckles before moving on to doing push ups, lunges, squats and other exercises that wouldn't leave me covered in blood.

I was alone for the rest of the day, so I ordered some pizza (simple, pepperoni) and relaxed in the hotel, I pulled out a sketch book from my suitcase and began sketching.

I didn't plan on sketching anything too important so I just went with what was on my mind, which happened to be Roddy, Jeez it's like I'm becoming emotionally attached to this idiot.

When I see him next I'll give him the drawing if I have it with me. I close the sketchbook and go back to the gym for around an hour, before coming back to the hotel and getting some rest.

I woke up the next morning (January 9th) and had a day much the same as the last, got up, did my morning routine, went to the gym, came back, ordered Chinese food and started drawing. It was just a shitty little thing, but once again, the Rowdy one came to mind.

What is it with Scottish men and me, is it because I'm a quarter Scottish, is it maybe because I believe in the folk tales and stories of old, of knights on white steeds, saving fair maidens and living happily ever after, while the monsters they kill or maim lie in a pool of their own blood and wish they could've had a different life?

I have no idea, and the idea of my own mind comparing me with those monsters makes me regret ever reading those stories while growing up, rather I should have stuck my head into scientific textbooks instead of tales of heroism and fantastical ghouls, then I would have never become and wrestler or met the amazing people in my life.

I look back down at the paper and decide to let Roddy have two final full page drawings on the other side of the sketches I've already drawn of him, I add in a small note on the page under a picture of Roddy that Sam had found.

The more I looked at the drawings and that lone picture, the more I realised the small details of Roddy's features, the strong jaw with a cleft chin, his hazel eyes? or are they dark blue? either way they intrigue me. And that musculature, Roddy's not slim but not a big man either, he's at that almost perfect weight to body fat ratio. Good lord, listen to me calling … Piper, Roddy, Him, perfect. I think I want to be sick, just to be rid of those thoughts.

Right as I run into the small bathroom I hear a commotion in the hallway and someone being thrown or more accurately, hurled into the other side of the bathroom wall. I take a deep breath, re-fix my mask into it's usual position and dart out into the corridor, right as the commotion ends.

The obvious victim of the bout was on the floor face down with a long, not to deep cut down the back of their left leg and was breathing heavily when I reached them.

"Woah, hey, hey buddy." I whispered to them in an effort to calm them.

"Kirby?"

FUCK

…

That Glaswegian accent, fuck, He's not even supposed to be in town, or is he?

"Piper?!" I whisper-yelled, more to myself than to him.

"Hey…" his voice trailed off, I heaved him over my shoulder and went back into my hotel room, tossing him down on the only bed and grabbing his left foot, reaching over to my suitcase and getting my personal first aid kit, nothing too fancy, some bandages, plasters, the bare essentials. I cleaned the cut and bandaged it, taping the bandage in place.

I glanced up from Roddy's leg and saw that he had passed out, "Shit." I muttered to myself, louder than I thought and his eyes flickered open.

"Kirby? Is that you?" His voice weak but still understandable.

I stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to move, I wanted to cry as I realised how badly he had been beaten up, his eyebrow cut, coming close to his eye, his hairline a mix of matted brown hair and blood that was starting to coagulate and then I started to notice more things wrong with Roddy's visage.

His shirt (a Piper classic, yellow with a wild cat graphic) was torn in several places, showing bruises and nicks in his flesh. His kilt, however, was fully intact, including his belt and sporran, though all of it was scuffed with little scratches, but no cuts.

"Kirby? Kirby talk to me, please?" He spoke so carefully and it broke me.

I dropped to my knees, weeping, and Roddy shot to his feet, before dropping down on his left side and leaning on the bed, getting only a couple of steps closer to me.

"Kirby, are you okay?"

"Roddy, look at ya," I took a deep breath in, "How can you be so beat up and worried about me? How is that possible?"

"Kirby? look at ya, you're crying over me? I thought you didn't care about me that much?"

I wiped the tears from my face and got Roddy back on the bed.

"Stay there, Piper."

"Oh, feisty."

"Roddy! Stay on the bed and don't move."

"Yes Ma'am."

I trudged into the bathroom and ran a long cold shower, and I heard him move off the bed before swearing and sitting back on the bed.

"I thought I said, DON'T MOVE Roddy!"

"Alright, alright. … feisty"

After the shower, I dressed in the bathroom after drying myself off and exited the room. I instantly noticed a sleeping Piper.

"I guess I'll sleep on the floor then."

"C'mere." He lazily waved his arm to try and beckon me over.

"No, Roddy, get some rest."

"Come here and get in the bed." He rolled over and picked up the duvet, lackadaisically blowing a joking kiss in my direction.

"Jesus, Roddy, fine."

I climbed into the bed and felt Roddy's arms curl around my waist and his face between my shoulder blades.

"Rod, get off."

"Wha'?"

"Get off of me."

"Why?"

"Aren't you married, get off."

"if I was married, there would be a ring on my finger," He waved his left hand in front of my face, "No ring, no wife."

"Oh. Still, get off."

"Now, would that be 'get off' in the, leave me alone, way or the 'get off' in the, I love you take me now, way." The latter a clear joke but it annoyed me even more.

"Leave me alone, Roddy."

He slid his arms off and rolled to face the other way.

"Small bed, Kirby."

"I wasn't expecting company, Piper."

"Your tattoos are nice."

"Sleep, Piper."

"I'm just saying."

"Roddy, you are injured, sleep."

"I looked through your sketchbook earlier, y'know, when you were in the shower, just flicked through it, and wow, you're a great artist."

"For the love of God, Roddy! would you please just get some sleep."

"Alright!, alright. No need to yell."

"One more word and I'm chucking you out the nearest window."

We both fell silent and managed to get some sleep, it wasn't until sunrise that either one of us awoke. As I stirred from my slumber I was face to face with the Scottish idiot. I yelped and, without realising his legs were intertwined with mine, fell off the bed with him falling on top of me, waking Roddy up in the process.

"Oh, well, morning sweetheart, did I wake ya."

"Rod, get ya damn 'Loch Ness Monster' away from me."

Rod's cheeks turned pink and he quickly looked down between our bodies before sheepishly standing up and hurrying to the bathroom, I took the chance to change into a graphic tee and some black jeans, not noticing that Piper had left the bathroom door wide open, until I heard his voice.

"Woah, so uh, all of you is bigger than normal?"

I yelped and threw one of my shirts at his face, before realising that I had thrown the shirt I was planning on wearing at him, "Wait, Roddy, I need that shirt."

He laughed before handing me back my shirt, "Uh, thank you … for …saving me last night."

"Were you even supposed to be in town?"

"Well no, but I …" He trailed off

"I can't hear you, Roddy?"

"It's nothing, really."

I continued on with my normal routine, mindful that Roddy was in the same room as me and injured. It wasn't until the phone rang that I had a problem, before I could reach the phone Roddy had already answered it.

"Who is this?"

I could hear a loud, angry voice on the phone and Piper got defensive.

"You think you're a hard man do ya?!"

Damien. That's got to be Damien, which means I am in some real trouble now. Thanks Piper, ya dafty.

"I'll get her to call ya back once you've calmed down."

He slammed the phone back into it's place and breathed out a hefty sigh.

"Kirby, is Damien your boyfriend?" He seemed instantaneously calm

I almost choked on air for a moment, "No! He's my manager, and he's like double my age. He's Vic," I paused for a moment, "He's my dad, as well as the other members of the D.O.D. We're not all his biological daughters though, just Vickie."

"So, he adopted you?"

"I guess you could say that." I avoided looking him in the eyes.

"Tell me the truth. Now!"

"Promise you won't tell anyone first."

"I won't tell a soul, now, why are you so, uptight, about who he is to you."

"First things first, my name isn't Kirby Lucifarian, it's actually Kirby Trevor."

"Oh, so Damien's not you're adoptive father, either?"

"No, my real parents are Heaven and Eric Trevor. Damien's Vickie's dad and only Vickie's dad."

"Are either one of your parents giants? or is it just you?"

"Just me, the closest person to me in height, family-wise was my uncle Rory. He's the reason I have the tattoo on my wrist."

I walked up to Piper and showed him the 'R' tattooed on my right wrist.

"So, he passed away?"

"Yeah. He died, eleven, no no, twelve years ago now, when I was Seventeen, My uncle Vaughn died a couple months later, he's why I have the lighter on my left arm, my uncle Vaughn was best known for being, in the nicest terms, a layabout smoker, and the smoke took him in the end."

"So, you have a lighter to remember a man who died by smoking?"

"Dark, I know, but uncle Vaughn would've laughed at it. Erik laughed at it when I explained it to him."

"Eric, your dad?"

"No, no, Erik, with a 'K', my old tag partner before I joined the D.O.D. I think you would've liked him."

"Really, now why would I like a guy I know nothing about?"

"Well, Erik's Scottish, He's from Edinburgh. He's tall-ish, then again I am a giant, so who am I to say what's tall, he's six-foot-five. He played the bagpipes when he was younger, he quit playing when he was twenty-three, same year we lost the tag titles."

"Rough," He interrupted "Continue, please."

"Uh, well. Erik's strong, very strong, he would compete in the Highland games and well, … I guess back then I thought I'd never leave him, until Damien gave me an offer I couldn't refuse and I left him. I had a whole life with him planned inside my head and I left it all behind, for what, cramped hotel rooms and breakfasts with André."

"You had breakfast with André the giant and you didn't tell me … You, You had a good Scottish man, and you left him, for," He gestured to the room, "all this?"

"Well I jus-"

"No," He held my jaw and looked me straight in the eyes, "You had a life, a man who obviously a close relationship with you, and you gave it up for breakfasts with André and shitty hotel rooms."

"I know I'm stupid."

"But you're not stupid, you saved me, I could have died in that hallway and you brought me in here, you stopped that bastard from killing me. I could kiss you."

"Please don't."

Sorry for cliff-hanger ending, but … END OF BLOODY, BEATEN, BRUISED or MAXIMUM EFFORT.

#Lucifarians #wrestling fic

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode ten: Tamaki makes a discovery!

Tw: self harm (mentioned and implied) starving (mentioned)

The next session was more peaceful, he didn't have to talk to any guests, he could just watch Tamaki, whilst stirring his coffee lazily. Tamaki's way of acting evil was incredibly satisfying to watch; he kept pressing gentle kisses to the prop skull, running his tongue against his perfect teeth, the way he purred his words towards the girls- playing up his natural accent to make the ladies swoon, he drew his words out, lounging about in lazy regality. Kyoya had no idea Tamaki could do that, it was incredible… nearly enough to make him drool if he was honest. He wanted nothing but to sit there under Tamaki and let him woo him like that… but that could never happen. Kyoya looked at the girls, the guests, laughing and giggling and watching Tamaki with wide eyes… and he was consumed by jealousy. How dare they, how dare they get to enjoy so much attention from Tamaki, whilst Kyoya has to sit there, just wishing. They're so horrid, so vapid, they're worse than Haruhi, they don't even deserve his hatred.

Oh. The coffee stirrer had shattered in his hand, he growled under his breath and pushed the cup away from him. He turned to his laptop for comfort, opening the finances, he's not doing anything, just toying with the graphs and such. He takes out his phone as well, opening the council group chat.

Shadow king: Seika, I need you to do something. Now.

Woman#2: Ooh, someone's pissy, what happened?

Shadow king: That is irrelevant, just do something.

Hurt her.

Woman#2: You want me to hurt her? How? Are you sure?

Shadow king: I don't care how. Just do it.

He put his phone back in his bag, hands shaking from the anger. He wanted to leave, he felt angry, he felt he was going to scream. He took his glasses off, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair, deep breaths, he just has to take deep breaths.

"Senpai?" Haruhi's soft voice cut through his calming breaths, sparking the rage in him again, he looked at her, putting his glasses back on. She looked worried, a soft smile on her face, she had no idea how much she was hated, "are you alright?"

He tenses up, did he have the strength to lie? He felt like punching her in the face here and now, but he knew he couldn't do that. He was tapping his nails on the table, trying not to tell her to fuck off, his lack of ease was clear to her, as he gritted his teeth and forced a smile. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? I'm just sorting out the finances right now, did you need anything Haruhi?"

She paused, sensing the danger though being unable to see why, her smile turned to a frown, "I… no, I just wanted to check on you, I'll… go back to my table now." She took a few steps back before turning and heading back to her customers, she should have been focusing on them anyway. Kyoya felt a little worried about how she'd clearly noticed something, wondering if she realised how much he hated her.

He couldn't focus on anything, nothing at all, so instead he took out his notebook, beginning to doodle. It was a human, it had sharper features then a human; a pronounced nose, a tiny neck, very sharp shoulder blades- Haruhi was softer than that, was he drawing Haruhi? He fixed the shoulder, smudging the offending ink with his finger and rounding off the shoulders. He focused on her hair, it was similar to Tamaki's, but uglier, flatter, brown. Her expression was one of disdain, one Kyoya had never seen on her face before, she was disgusted, like he knew she would be when she realised what he'd been doing- if she realised, commoners were never smart. Was the school badge on the wrong side? He always struggled with mirroring, it was hard to remember. Her eyes were bleeding silver from his pencil, he would have grabbed a pen but he had no blue, he didn't want to touch his red, it was the only red pen he had- Haruhi didn't deserve it.

She was disgusting, selfish, she didn't deserve Tamaki, she was just some dumb commoner… commoner, commoner, he said that word a lot, but Yuuichi had said it was regular- just regular people, they were the minority in real life. It was a strange feeling, they all had so much power yet there were so much more commoners in the world, it was strange, it was… odd. His breaths shuddered as he wrote words, the same word, over and over and over and over again around his sketch.

Commoner.

She's a commoner, and he hates her.

The session ended after a while, and the tables were pushed together, guess Tamaki had ordered a meeting. The others had gone to get dressed, so Kyoya hesitantly followed. When he got to his corset, he really didn't want to leave it, besides, the others hardly ever do any inventory so it's not like they'd notice it missing. He toyed with the tightness for a little, before slipping his shirt and blazer over it, something sparking in his mind as he put his tie on. An idea that led him to pull said tie as tight as it could possibly go… then loosen it a little- a tie isn't as safe as a corset apparently.

He took his place at the table, opening his laptop and closing his book, "so, what's this meeting about then Tamaki?"

Tamaki paused, looking unsure for a moment, there was something about how he'd looked at Kyoya that made him suddenly very uneasy, "well, just about everything and anything, just thought I'd switch it up, cause I uh- I wanna do something on Friday!" He smiles, clearly having just made that up, "care to give us a finance report?"

Now that was something Kyoya could do, he nodded, opening the finances graphs and charts and tables. He took out a remote for the projector that sat in the ceiling, waiting until Tamaki got the whiteboard out for him, then he projected his screen onto it. "So," he actually smiled, he loved talking about numbers, "we're actually doing rather well, profits are up and I have to say welldone, all of you are contributing to the profits equally, although of course, Tamaki is still number one." He pulled up a chart depicting each hosts individual profits, complete with images; obviously he'd manipulated the graphs, the twins were actually doing better than Tamaki by 2% but the graphs only purpose was was to make Tamaki feel good, and to hide the fact that Kyoya himself literally avoided hosting at all costs. The hosts seemed to enjoy the graph, though Haruhi had frowned, to which Kyoya nodded, "unfortunately, Haruhi has been slacking recently, is there a reason for this?"

All eyes were on Haruhi, and Kyoya felt incredibly vindicated by this. She paused, blinking in surprise, "well I don't think I was falling behind, I could've sworn I did more hosting then you have senpai…" Her tone was a pondering one, but Kyoya felt the rage spark up again.

"Well there's no need to be so rude about it," Kyoya glanced around, hand on his heart, maybe it was time to take a risk, "you've been awfully spiteful towards me lately and I'm not sure why, is something the matter Haruhi?" He kept his tone soft and almost hurt sounding, hand pressed against his head as the other loosely held the remote for the projector, he did his best to paint Haruhi as the aggressor- he could tell Tamaki was still too hurt from her distance on Sunday to stand up for her, but he looked torn, not sure who to believe. The twins glanced at each other, then between Kyoya and Haruhi, they'd been privy to the discussion that morning and were likely still hesitant. Honey and Mori were the wild card, Mori was unreadable as always but Honey looked sympathetic to Kyoya, and Kyoya felt a little spark of victory.

Haruhi stared across the table at him, trying to read him and failing, Kyoya was not going to let his guard down. So she sighed, "I haven't been rude to you senpai, you've just been jumpy, I even asked if you were alright this afternoon, remember?" Oh god, she was being honest, he wasn't sure how to combat honesty, unless he could twist her words into what he wanted…

"Haruhi, I'll be perfectly honest here, you should probably stop neglecting your duties. As I said this afternoon, I was too busy to converse with you, and you had clients anyway so you should have been at your table instead of bothering me with questions about whether there's anything wrong with me." He paused, taking a breath and letting it sink in, he was taking a huge, huge risk here, and he hoped it would pay off. The twins seemed to at least somewhat agree that Haruhi should have been doing his job, Honey seemed concerned about what was said, Mori was still unreadable, and Tamaki… Tamaki looked almost angry, but at what, Kyoya wasn't sure.

Haruhi was startled, "I… I didn't mean it like-"

Kyoya shut her up with a wave of her hand, "that doesn't matter Haruhi, what matters is that you left your station, and should pay more attention to your duties, are we in agreement?" She nodded and he smiled, changing the slide, "but yes, profits are up, even if the recent theme cost quite a lot, namely in the diamonds for Tamaki's prop skull," he glances down at the king, seeing Tamaki's smile made him feel fuzzy inside, he's so glad these idiots don't think about things for more than three seconds.

But then Tamaki spoke, "oh, about today's theme, I made sure to put all the costumes on the hangers when you were all setting up the table… Do you remember where you put your corset, Kyoya?" Oh god, oh fuck, Kyoya instantly glanced away, hand going to his abdomen, feeling the bones of the corset through his shirt and blazer.

"Well I-..."

Hikaru snickered, holding in a laugh, "did you keep it on? Couldn't you get it off?"

Karou joined in at that, chuckling softly, "like when you took too long this morning? Were you actually just struggling?"

Kyoya felt his face go red, and was glad of the makeup, he frowned and glared over their shoulders, "that's… that's not why I-"

"So you did keep it on?" Honey spoke up, tilting his head, smiling, "but for a different reason?"

Tamaki sighed, "aww Kyoya, I offered you help you if you got stuck, there's no shame in it." The tone he used, it was one you'd use for a jumpy, frightened animal- he was offended but he couldn't say it didn't sooth him slightly. He also felt the idea of Tamaki helping him with the corset was certainly someone that made him feel fuzzy but he was too tired to protest too much. He just sighed.

The meeting was cut short a little, Kyoya wasn't entirely sure what happened, he remembers the twins did a talk about the costumes they have for the themes lined up, and Honey gave feedback on the cakes he had ordered… but Kyoya was a little fuzzy through the whole thing, maybe the corset and the combo was a little too much. He could glance back down at his notebook to clarify that he was taking notes, though it was a larger font.

16:26 - Clothes look good, cake was dry...

It trailed off, and Kyoya's face feels hot, he's dizzy, and feels like he's so close to passing out. He closed his eyes and felt cold fingers against his skin, opening his eyes he saw Tamaki carefully untying the ribbons of his corset for him, his eyes were full of concern, "Kyoya… this is way too tight… how could you breathe?"

"Hm… couldn't…" Kyoya's words were slurring, god, he really was about to pass out.

Tamaki's eyes flickered up to Kyoya's face, noticing how clouded his eyes are and sighing, "oh no…" he reaches up, loosening Kyoya's tie for hum, their faces were so close, and Kyoya wondered if Tamaki could feel the heat from his face, "you tied your tie too tight too… please don't tell me it was on purpose…" he looked at Kyoya with those big doe eyes that Kyoya can't resist, and something in Kyoya just breaks. He's crying now.

Shocked, Tamaki pulls him into an embrace, just letting him cry, "oh… oh Kyoya… why? Why would you do that to yourself? Does this mean you lied about the reason for your starving too? Is this why you've been so antsy?" Kyoya didn't answer, he was sobbing now, the floodgates were open, there was no moving until he was done. Tamaki let him for now, a lot of things probably making sense in Tamaki's mind, he shifted so Kyoya and he were both more comfortable. The curtains parted slightly and Kyoya couldn't see who it was but Tamaki snapped, "hey! Don't look! Let him have privacy, just go home." Kyoya appreciated Tamaki caring so much for his privacy but felt a little bad at intruding on his.

Tamaki cradled him softly, rocking back and forth as Kyoya sobbed in his arms, Kyoya felt awful, absolutely horrible, he had been hurting himself, he had and that was awful, he had upset Tamaki, he upset his darling best friend and crush by letting him find out about the self harm. He was a horrible friend, he should have hidden it better, god he was terrible…

"Kyoya," Tamaki hummed Kyoya's name, pushing back slightly to look Kyoya in the eyes, wiping his teeths gently, "you know you can talk to me about anything right? You're my best friend and I love you, you're very important to me and I don't want to see you so hurt. Take care of yourself, I know it's probably hard, but just try your best, ok?" He smiled softly at him, his hand on Kyoya's cheek, Kyoya's own hand came up and touched Tamaki's, his eyes were wide and he couldn't help but smile. Tamaki's so wonderful, so brilliant, Kyoya loved him with every inch of his being, Kyoya simply adored him. "Promise me I won't ever see you so hurt again?"

Kyoya just nodded, he would hide it better next time, he wouldn't let Tamaki see even the idea of Kyoya being hurt, he hated himself for how he'd upset Tamaki- he wouldn't let it happen again. Tamaki had smiled and stood up, helping Kyoya up before fully undoing the corset, letting it fall to the floor. Kyoya felt a shiver run down his spine and Tamaki gasped, "oh you must be so cold! Here, let me help you with your shirt!" He bent down and buttoned Kyoya's shirt back up, humming a sweet little melody, one that made Kyoya's heart soar like a bird. He stood and put a gentle hand on Kyoya's shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow mon ami, take care of yourself."

Kyoya was silent on the way home, his bodyguards couldn't get a word out of him, his fingers drummed on the cover of his black book, he wanted to write, but he didn't want to have to get his pen out of his bag. They got home eventually and Kyoya stormed up the driveway and into the mansion, he practically ran upstairs, slamming the door to his room the moment he entered it. He threw his bag at the table, before following it and kneeling down, placing his book down and opening it.

17:56 - Tamaki realised why I had the corset so tight, he helped me take it off, his hands are so soft. He knows about the self harm, I promised I wouldn't let him see it again but it's too late: he knows, he knows, he knows, he knows…

#tamakyo #ouran high school host club #kyoyassecondshot #kyoya ootori #tamaki souh #haruhi fujioka #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #hikaru and kaoru #mitsukuni haninozuka #takashi morinozuka #Second

[yourcreepyneighborhoodelftwink]

As the Hero fell upwards through the sands of time, the days rewinding like the gears of a clock, he landed calmly on the cobblestones of Clock Town Square, at the dawn of the first day. He had been through this many times before, and had grown accustomed to reliving the same 3 days, helping the same people with the same schedules, slowly making more and more progress each time. At least he didn't feel an enormous time crunch, even with the threat of the moon hanging above him, he was always able to rewind the days, and could take days to rest, to sleep or ride Epona or play with the inhabitants.

He rarely did, but it was nice that the option was there.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Tatl getting his attention with a soft tinkling sound, looking over at the stand near the Deku flower, and the note pinned to it.

"That's certainly new…" she said cautiously as they approached, Tatl reading aloud to Link.

The pair exchanged a confused and frightened look. It wasn't signed, but they knew exactly who left the note for them.

BEN sat on the edge of the field, their boots hanging over the barrier where the grass turned into sand, looking out at the canyon leading to the beach. It had been so long since they had entered their game, only playing it from the outside. Perhaps they had been showing too much love to Breath of the Wild lately and not enough to the dark masterpiece of their former prison, or perhaps it was the only world they could enter that felt truly real, where the sun was warm and the wind blew. They HAD become a bit spoiled, learning that adding weather effects and random wind blowing did wonders to immersion when they entered a game.

They closed their eyes, speaking up before looking behind them.

"You didn't have to rush over here. "as possible" doesn't mean "instantly", you know…" BEN said gently, lowering their ears with a guilty smile.

Link frowned softly, keeping his distance from the elf. He couldn't draw his sword AND sign, after all, so he would have to make due. "You didn't specify. I've learned better than to provoke you."

BEN couldn't exactly blame his caution. It's why they were here, after all. "My bad. I'll be more specific next time. But I suppose it's neither here nor there now…"

"...is there something you want, BEN? " Link asked, clearly a bit anxious by being asked to meet.

"...a few things. I won't lie and say there isn't a favor I'd like to ask the both of you-"

"Like you have any right to ask Link for anything, at this point!" Tatl quickly interjected, turning red in anger. "You've terrorized us for no good reason, revealed truths we didn't need to know, and then just left us alone one day!"

"-BUT," BEN continued, "that isn't my main reason for being here. First and foremost... You're long overdue for an apology from me."

Link and Tatl looked at each other in confusion. "...pardon? " Link questioned.

"...I've been doing a lot of thinking and self reflecting lately. Especially because I finally have reason to want to improve myself. And I think I've gotten pretty far in trying to right the wrongs of my past, and try to change as a person. But I still never gave the both of you a proper apology, or even an explanation for how I treated you…" BEN sheepishly said.

Link looked down at the seated person, absolutely dumbfounded. All the times he had been attacked by BEN came instantly into his mind, only to not even be able to so much as scratch them in return, even the might of a Goron doing nothing to them. All the times he had been followed and told he was insignificant, worthless, a joke of a hero, told he was nothing more than a bland, boring conduit for the player of a game in a world far grander than his own. Only for BEN to just... Disappear one day. Gone. Vanish into thin air, and only return occasionally, seemingly at their leisure. Something... Didn't add up to him, and he wasn't sure what on Earth made them suddenly stop tormenting him, and now want to make things right.

"...I'll hear you out, at least," Link finally said, stepping forward to sit next to him. If nothing else, were he going to harm Link, BEN would have done it by now.

"Not that it makes us all hunky-dory yet," Tatl offered, settling on Link's shoulder.

BEN smiled softly, letting out a relieved breath. They stayed quiet for a moment, deciding their words carefully. "I'm not... Sure where to start. So much has happened to me. I guess I should start when we first met. When I first entered this game. It was my favorite game, and with me when I died," they started.

Tatl interrupted, jingling softly. "...when you died?"

BEN nodded softly. "When I died. I was just about your age, Link, about 12. More specifically, when I was murdered. Father simply... Got tired of me, I suppose. He tricked my religion's leader- we refer to him as The Father- into thinking it was my time to Ascend when it wasn't. The whole explanation of my belief system isn't important in this, just that I was robbed of something very important and sacred to me because of it."

"That sounds horrible," Link signed.

"It was... And I was only 12, and not the greatest at understanding or expressing my emotions... I was so angry, absolutely furious at losing that chance, as what had been done to me. I've always had a strong sense of justice, if you can believe it. I don't easily stand for people wronging me. But when I died, my spirit was trapped in this game. All that rage bottled up, with nowhere to release it... Until I started releasing it on you. Very unfairly."

"I'll say," Tatl said, though there wasn't much bite behind her words.

"Eventually, someone played the game, and I was able to break free, find someone else to torment. And after that, start lashing out at everyone who had hurt me, making them

PĄŸ,"

BEN continued, their voice glitching out just a bit at the final word.

"...i moved on to more innocent people after that. I was out of control. To the point where my goddess, Luna, intervened. She stopped me herself, gave me a new body, made me into a young adult so I wouldn't be trapped as a child forever, and I carry the souls of everyone I hurt in my blind sadism, until I join her again one day. And I've worked hard to be a better person now. I've found so much to make my life wonderful, and to make the most of my second chance…" BEN trailed off.

"...but you still want to make amends to everyone you've hurt," Link finished for them.

"...I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't think I can be forgiven. But I really AM sorry for how I treated you. Both of you. Of everyone I've lashed out at, you're the least deserving of it. No matter WHAT'S happened to me, it's NO excuse for how much I've hurt you. And even if you never forgive me, I would love the opportunity to make it up to you…" they finished softly.

"...would you excuse us for a moment?" Tatl asked, flying a slight distance away. Link glanced over at BEN before rising to his feet to follow, and speak with the fairy alone. BEN politely stayed looking forward, allowing them the privacy.

"...do you believe them?" Tatl asked.

"...yeah. They seem genuine," Link admitted.

Tatl nodded softly. "I do, too. There's much simpler ways to trick us or convince us if that was their intention. Even if they said they wanted a favor, this is a lot of lengths to go to for just that…"

"I wonder what they want," the hero mused, glancing over at BEN.

"...maybe ask? Perhaps you can also ask a favor of him, test his sincerity," she said.

"What would that be? " he asked.

"Well, you've said you're curious about his world, whatever it is that our entire world is only a game in, a small part of. Maybe you can ask to explore his world. It'd give you the opportunity to spend more time with him and let him earn your trust, anyway," she offered.

Link nodded softly, then whistled to get BEN's attention. "Alright, BEN, we've talked it over. First, I want to know what favor it is you want…"

"Actually, it's a favor specifically from Tatl," they explained.

"Wait, me?" she questioned.

"...my daughter has watched me play this game a lot. And she's absolutely fallen in LOVE with you, she ADORES seeing you on screen. Her first birthday is in a few months, and there's... Circumstances about my life, and now hers, that will make her very different from other children, with so many secrets to keep. She could really use having a companion by her side, a friend to offer wisdom and company and help when she needs it. A copy of you, like how I copied Epona, to watch over her and make her feel less alone…" BEN said.

"...you have a daughter?" Link asked.

"And a boyfriend. Soon to be husband," BEN explained, holding up their hand to show off their ring.

Tatl let out a soft chime at this. "Well... I'm certainly flattered you think I'd make a good companion to her…"

BEN smiled softly. "I don't expect an answer today, don't worry. There's still a few months before her birthday. And I understand if it's not something you're comfortable with…"

"...we have a proposal for you, in that case," Link began. "You want to make amends to us. We're admittedly curious about this world outside of our own. So, let us explore. Show us your life, and what lies outside this "game", and earn our trust. Then we'll consider it."

BEN thought this over. They'd have to be careful, but this wasn't impossible… "...I can't completely remove you from the game. I'd have to copy you, then merge the copy and your true self after. It's basically the same thing, though, you'd keep the memories and everything. And you'd have to do EXACTLY as I say, I... REALLY can't have attention drawn to myself or the people I live with. If there's something that catches your attention, you can't gawk, just stay calm and ask me. And there's going to be a LOT, the real world is nothing like this one. Hylian sign doesn't match up with any sign language in my world, so you'll at least be able to speak freely. But if you can do that, and trust that I'm keeping us both safe when I tell you to do something... I'll happily show you around."

Link considers this, then nods. He holds out his hand to BEN, who shakes it.

"Then we have a deal."

#the hero of thunderthighs #creepypasta #ben drowned #fic #fanfic #(y'all deserve to know the Google Docs title for this is 'uh-oh BENny-wenny done a fucky-wucky')