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nereidprinc3ss · 14 days

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hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied.

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details.

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name.

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror.

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause.

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it.

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort.

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is.

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably.

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing.

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—”

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face.

Oh. He was fucking with you.

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer.

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you.

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies.

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly.

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic.

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you.

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room.

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder.

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back.

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately.

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin.

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are.

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer.

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach.

Something resembling jealousy.

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid.

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you.

You swallow and try to act like yourself.

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see.

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in.

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively.

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place.

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable.

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job.

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it.

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown.

She makes a good point.

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail.

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut.

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer.

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl.

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen.

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny.

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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alieinthemorning · 6 months

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Marry a Man Through His Stomach [Miya Atsumu]

Content: Fluff, Soft, Marriage

Pronouns: None

Header: @/tsumoos

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work's concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

"Is that what I think it is?" He barely toed his shoes off at the entrance before bounding his way into the kitchen, coming right up behind you to take a whiff of the pot you were stirring. "Hell yeah!"

You rolled your eyes, dishing him a small portion into the soy sauce plate you had been using. He leaned down, eagerly slurping.

He hummed, smacking his lips before looking down at you with bright eyes.

"Man, I'm glad I married ya."

It was a lunchtime like any other. You were sat at your desk, just finished with putting your materials away and finding a video to watch with your lunch. However, once you opened the lid to your bento, did someone decide to pester you.

"Oh lemme have some!" A hand reached for your food, which you quickly swatted at.

"I literally just opened this—can I have a bite of my food before ya start beggin'!" You huffed at him, taking a bite of gyoza.

"Fine, ya've taken a bite—lemme have some gyoza too!"

"Oh my—fine!" But just as you went to grab the gyoza to pass to him, a pair of chopsticks, that obviously weren't yours, snatched it up and dropped it right into Atsumu's open mouth.

His face went through the motions of: happy, disbelief, then finally happy again.

"Man, yer ma is a good cook."

You raised a brow, "Ma didn't cook this. I did."

"Ya made this?" He paused, taking another bite (from another piece of food he had stolen from you—the bastard) then nodded to himself. "Yeah, imma marry ya some day."

You blinked, felt the heat raising to your cheeks, then laughed.

"Yeah right!" You were sure he was just saying shit out of his ass.

"Ya laugh now, but I'm sure there'll be a ring on that finger." He tapped your left ring finger.

Then he left (making sure to swipe one last piece of food), leaving you to mull over the nonsense he had spewed.

This very quickly began to become a habit of his, pestering you for your food until you relented (which didn't take long) then commenting in someway about your alleged future marriage.

You didn't think much of it until you were making a bento for him (finally sick and tired of him stealing your food) and your mother said something to you.

"Feedin' a friend of yers?"

You nodded, "Somethin' like that..."

She hummed. "Well ya know, the way I won yer father's heart is through the stomach so—"

You whipped your head around so fast you were sure it was going to go spinning off.

She threw her head back, laughing loudly at your flustered face.

"Make sure to bring'em around soon, okay?" And she was out of the room before you could refute her.

But in the end she was right—both she and Atusmu, actually.

You had won his love through his stomach, and just like he said, you were wearing that platinum band on your left ring finger.

You fidgeted with it fondly, a small smile gracing your fingers. The smile widen as he grabbed your hand, placing a kiss right on the band.

"You know, I'm glad ya begged for that gyoza that day..."

He raised a brow, a smirk threatening to split his face. "Oh really? Yer were that eager to marry me?"

"Not then no, but later...yeah." You leaned forward, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad I said yes."

"Well, I'm happy I put the thought in yer head." He pulled you closer, "Now come're..."

I was supposed to write something else first, but then I had this thought and had to stop everything I was doing to write it.

Anyway, I've been sucked back into the Haikyuu! Hole and Atsumu has been my hyperfixation, and there simply aren't fresh fics for him so, it's time I feed myself and the people.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficlets #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya atsumu x reader

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mcyt-yuri-week · 6 months

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And just like that, we've reached the end of MCYT Yuri Week 2023 in most timezones! Thank you all SO much for your participation. It's been wonderful to see so much art, fic, and even other forms of creation being done to celebrate the femslash of the fandom, and really makes it feel like people do care about sapphic dynamics in a fandom where they're so often passed over in favour of the more popular ships of other kinds. We'll keep an eye on the tag and our mentions for another few days to make sure any late additions are still added, but you can always check #mcytyuriweek2023 to see what else is out there! And if you'd like us to run this again some time, feel free to send us encouragement and prompt ideas. We're always happy to see continued support!

Lots of love (and lesbians),

Mod Ilex

I've been so so happy to be able to see all the beautiful works you all created and see how many of you really do enjoy sapphics!!! Seeing so many femslash ships in such a short amount of time was sooo so lucky for me, really. Even just getting to see the tags in response to so many of the works has been sooooo nice :D

I'm really excited to get to do this again, and it maayyyyyy happen sooner rather than later, but we'll see! As Ilex said, offering prompts would be so wonderful, and I'm always happy to get to answer asks, so if you have anything you'd like to say, lemme know!! Hope to see everyone again soon!!!

Mwah Mwah, remember, sapphic week can be any week!

-LE

#mcytyuriweek2023

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daz4i · 10 months

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thank you! and yes ofc, any input is welcome! okay, so i've seen some people talk about how many fics get chuuya and dazais dynamic wrong, but i've not actually seen any specific critiques, so i was wondering if you have any tips to avoid, for lack of better term, to write one of the "bad ones"?

also, i don't have money for the light novels, is it generally frowned upon to write skk without having knowledge of how they are in the light novels? i don't if they're that different, but i've seen comments like "if you just read stormbringer, you'd understand" so just wondering if i'm missing out on A Lot.

and for fic posting, this is not that important, but is there some popular fic boosting tags if i wanted to promote it on tumblr?

oh these are great questions!! lemme try to answer it in an organized way (edit from myself after typing the answer up: i am so sorry for this monster of a post askjdfgh hope it's not too overwhelming 😭🙏)

skk dynamic:

one thing i think is important to keep in mind is that it has layers, and that they're not quite honest in their interactions. a good example for what i mean is like when they're rescuing q and chuuya talks about how he can't stand dazai, but then later when dazai is attacked by lovecraft chuuya is immediately concerned and runs after him to make sure he's okay, being shocked and worried when he sees his arm missing, etc. (dazai is even worse in that regard lmao)

i can speak on my own personal pet peeve with skk fics is where their personalities are flattened, and thus their relationship is as a result as well (for example, reducing chuuya to a tsundere, or making him stupid, while making dazai some dark edgelord etc) this can lead to missing one key thing in their relationship: they're equals

soukoku even just as a fighting duo isn't just "dazai thinks up strategies and chuuya fights", the whole reason they're considered unbeatable to their enemies is because they're both strong - they can both fight, and they're both smart and good at thinking quickly on their feet. it's just that chuuya is better at fighting, and dazai's strategies are more airtight. this way they're enhancing each other's abilities. so, translating that into their general dynamic is also important

another way in which they're equal that i think shows this last part^ even better, and smth that i think ppl tend to miss, is that dazai never really manipulates chuuya or forces him into situations he doesn't want to take part in - he always asks for chuuya's final word on the matter. chuuya follows his plans because he too knows they're likely the best option. this is how they maintain their trust in each other

(honestly the only time i think you can argue dazai tries to manipulate chuuya is in their reunion in the dungeon, but really it's more for shits and giggles on his end, no real malice, and chuuya probably knows that too, i think)

light novels:

first off!! even if you can't afford them, bsd-bibliophile has them right here!!! i really recommend checking it out :)

i don't think you HAVE to read them but like. it's good to know what happens in them at least generally, and it can definitely help the nuance of their dynamic. the sb comment is kind of right bc it helps figuring out one of those layers i mentioned in the beginning

i actually haven't finished strombringer myself hehe but one thing i got from it so far and from reading analysis of it (which can also help if you don't mind getting spoiled!) that i think is important, esp if you're writing about their mafia days, is that chuuya does hate dazai in the early stages of their relationship, but like. because he sees himself in him. and he sees despair he doesn't want to give in to. at least back then, dazai kind of embodies his negative thoughts about himself, even if not literally and just in his mind.

also on a more basic level both of them (tho esp fifteen) offer some shenanigans of them being silly teenagers. also dazai cringe compilation. actually this is an important part of it i think dazai should always be at least a little bit pathetic when chuuya's around (but that might also be just my own personal take :P)

tldr for the light novels thing, i think it really depends on what sort of fic you're planning to write. canonverse, and esp mafia days, i'd say it's fairly important. aus, not so much, but it can help. relationship explorations, probably. silly fluff or pwp, not really. yknow :?

posting:

hmmmmm i don't know any particular tags (except like, basic stuff, fandom / ship / main characters / "fanfiction" / maybe key tropes you're using? tho it's def not a must) but some general tumblr hacks:

posting at the right hours and days helps; around the afternoon or early evening in american timezones, on the weekends, is probably the best time to gain most traffic

use ao3's automatic sharing or post the fic as the link post format, rather than a text post or picture with a link inserted into the text. idk if it still exists, but it used to be that posts with links in the text would be hidden from search results, especially if you're a new blog (i think it was mostly removed but the new blog thing might still be relevant)

don't use swears and esp not "fuck" and its variations in the tags. hides posts from search results (i think "shit" and such is okay?? but i'm not entirely sure so. to be on the safe side, better to avoid) also don't use "nsfw" or any other possibly nsfw tags even if it's needed

speaking of. while it's probably responsible to use community labels. i'm p sure tumblr hides mature posts from search results 😭 i saw artists complaining abt their posts getting flagged and even getting shadowbanned over it iirc so. unfortunately it's probably better to avoid 😔 save the warnings for the fic itself

this might be a bug only i have lol but after making a post with quite a few tags, wait a few seconds before refreshing the tab or moving to another page. i noticed that otherwise it can hide the post from everywhere except your own blog (it might also be only relevant to image posts? but again, to be on the safe side, it won't hurt to do it)

okay i think that's all. i will say that everything i said abt skk might be just my own personal interpretation hehe so don't take my word as gospel!!! i'm sure there are many other fans and writers who view them in an entirely different light, and at the end of the day, it's up to you to choose your own version to write

and with that, i'm also turning this post to my followers, if you want to add anything, or if you have links to good analysis posts that could answer one of these questions, please go ahead! :D

as for you anon, i wish you good luck with writing, and mostly i hope you have fun with it!!! :3 just bc you see some of us complaining abt fics sometimes doesn't mean you should walk into it scared, actually please don't!!! you can do whatever you want really, and i'm sure there will be an audience for your work no matter what you create! <3

#i feel like i definitely missed smth but i can't figure it out now so i hope it's enough anyway 🙏#mmmmmmmm lemme tag this post for the sake of others who might need it too perhaps #soukoku #bungou stray dogs #ok that's it

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alexbutrandomthoughts · 13 days

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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "alexbutrandomthoughts "?

"I was screaming your name through the radio" by ElectricSplatter a must-read for all soukoku fans, this shit is so good i reread it 20 times at least.

It's basically bsd retelling but they're all singers and it's focused on soukoku. Honestly writing is immaculate and i like the way it was told, format wise, like how we jump back in forth from present to past, and overall it has everything you could want from a story. I have this one saved on my phone and i reread my favorite chapters from time to time

"Time Speaks" by SmallMoon333 do not get fooled by that unassuming title, this fic made me physically incapable of reading any other Lawlight fic, bc this one is just too good. It's akin to trying a high quality steak and unable to eat any other meat anymore bc you know how heaven tastes (i obviously read other fics, they're pretty good too, but this one is just my personal favorite especially the characterization is so fucking good it's crazy)

"Electric touch" by bejeweledhaze okay so you know the feeling when you need something very specific, you go to store, and the stars align perfectly so you find that thing, just what you need it, almost feels like custom made. That's this fic.

So when Kaveh fans died (myself included) after that one official art with Kaveh as a mechanic, i just needed to fill the whole in my chest, after saving every single Mechanic Kaveh fanart known to men. I decided check out the tag, but i didn't really expect much, i mean it's been like what? Couple days since the official art was dropped. Sure there is probably couple of fics but not something i would like, right? Bejeweledhaze said "lemme cook" and turns out they were Gordon Ramsey in disguise. One chapter, 33k words of pure and unfiltered masterpiece.

"School watches Assassination Classroom" by TheSteinsGateFormula so I'm a sucker characters react to their show fics. What of it.

Yeah there are not many reaction fics that i like cuz personal preferences. But THISSSSSSSSSSSS ugh so good. And very much in character and i loved from start to finish.

"MSBY4's Lockdown Survival Guide" by mintberries

Okay so this was just good vibes. Social media aus fics for me is what Isekai is for Gigguk (but I'm also isekai trash person, their just fun) and this is ALSO a covid19 au???? With my favorite team????? This appeased my sakuatsu craving soul and it was just dumbasses having fun.

"Duo Heroes, Double Black" by Yellow_Canna

It's bsd&mha crossover and it's beast!soukoku isekai/sorta reincarnation/technically regression do i need to say more

"No Water Is Enough" by Boomchick

Hualian angst, my favorite type of angst. It's sorta memory loss and i knew the suffering would be glorious once Hua Cheng remembered and it did not disappoint

"Pick-Up and Chase" by SKayLanphear was laughing my ass off with this fic. Marinette just constantly flirting with Adrien as herself and as Ladybug was a wild and hilarious ride

"one step at a time" by OuterWilde (foreverraugust)

Honestly, this was just good old slice of life and overall nice fic. I was obsessed with Ace Attorney at the time, and well with all the crazy shit that was happening in the games, this was a nice break from it.

"A Century Between Us" by Dulllull dead ass my favorite jjk fic. It's not finished, not by a long shot but it's so GOOOOD SHIT SLAPS SO HARD and well it's reincarnation fic how can i not love it and written so WELLLLL PLEASE READ THIS IT'S VERY AAAAAAAAAAA-

As for my name, originally i migrated from Twitter cuz fuck Elon, and had another blog which had my name and this was a side blog for me to scream about my hyperfixations, whichever i would have at the time and i ended up using this one more lol. Hence the "random thoughts"

#it took longer to reply had to pull out the goods for this one

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penncilkid · 1 year

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Hello hello! My name is PK and I'm a fervent enjoyer of non-canon ships. I'm not a fic writer exactly but I've been told "Where's the fic OP" twice now by my friends. So I thought I'd format one of my fic-adjacent ramble sessions for Tumblr!

Pairing: Milo/David [No Sweetheart or Angel, wanted to go easy on myself] [MDNI*] [Let's call this "canon reminiscent /lh]

Word Count: 3.2 K

*(I wouldn't consider this smut by any means but there's a few lines that make me want to add this as a tag)

[As a reminder, I diverge from canon quite a bit with this. This is just one route I could see leading to Milo and David getting together]

My vision for this pair is that they start getting closer in a more than just friends way a little bit after Gabe dies. Not immediately because have some decorum, but it would start during that transition period for David as Alpha. Asher is trying his best to help but is also grappling with the whole Beta thing, so he feels like he's in a complex position. But him and Milo can see that David's not doing great so Milo's like "Fine, I'll bite the bullet" and tries to confront David about it.

At first it's subtle, asking David if he needs help with something, if he wants anyone from the pack to stay after for meetings, if he wants them to pick up a shift so he can have the day off, etc. But David is too stubborn to accept any of it so he keeps brushing them off. This ends up culminating in a "fight" one day where Milo again tries to make an offer that David shoots down. Milo sort of snaps and is like "Alright, what the fuck gives? Why are you acting like you're too good to get help anymore, David?" David says he doesn't know what he's talking about, Milo calls bullshit. It doesn't turn into a screaming match but it's enough of a heated argument that Milo storms out of the den.

In the days following, Milo either calls out sick, switches shifts with people, anything to avoid seeing David. David brushes it off, thinking he's got more important things to worry about if Milo's going to throw a fit. But of course, Ash being Ash means this stuff can't fly for long, so he tells both David and Milo that he needs help with something at an odd time of day and then "coincidentally" doesn't show up. When Milo gets to the den, he's real tempted to get back in his car and leave. It's a mix of still being a little frustrated with David and being embarrassed that this "fight" has gone on for as long as it has. He walks up to David (who was waiting outside for Asher) and is like "Lemme guess, you're waiting for Ash?" "How did you...?" "Fucker told me the same thing."

They do some lighthearted bitching about their friend, which eases the tension. There's a bit of silence and right as Milo gets ready to apologize for speaking out of turn, David apologizes first. He acknowledges that Milo was right in what he said and that he's been struggling with everything changing, but he hasn't wanted it to show on the outside. Milo makes a light jab at David, "Alright well did you really expect that to go over my head? C'mon, David, we've known each other since we were kids. Gimme some credit" To make up for it, the two of them go out to eat, all that's chill. Cut to when Milo gets home, maybe has a drink or two as he's winding down. David sends him a message, confirming he made it home alright (because I've always latched onto the idea that he's super attentive to that given what happened with Gabe). Milo sends David a quick reply and wonders why seeing that message made him feel some type of way (romantic? Who knows, not Milo that's for sure /lh)

Now if I remember correctly, the audio where Angel learns about Gabe, it's been around 3 years since his passing. Keeping this in mind and in the spirit of being canon reminiscent, I think around/after this point is when Milo's feelings for David start to really bubble up. They've been building for awhile, much to his dismay. He's trying to play it cool, but his heart's in his damn throat any time David touches him casually or whenever the two of them are assigned to a job together. And he knows it's getting bad enough where he might lose focus, so he swallows his pride and does what he's been avoiding for months, if not years: asking Asher for advice.

"Alright, look: You and me both know that you had a lil crush on David when we were in high school. How the fuck did you get over it? I'm drowning, Ash." If this conversation is happening on the phone or at Asher's place, cue him yelling to Babe that they owe him 20 bucks (because it's funny to me <3). Asher asks Milo why he wants to get over the feelings so bad and Milo's like "'Cause this is David we're talking about." "So what?" "We've got... history. That complicates shit all on its own." "And?" "....Alright fine, and I'm also terrified he's not gonna feel the same. Happy?" Asher is being the little shit that he is, putting his arm around Milo's shoulder. "Listen. If I know David— And believe me, I do— What ya gotta do is be direct. If he doesn't feel the same, that's one thing. But if you even want a chance, you gotta be straight up with him. If you tried to ask him out casually, he'll just assume you're being friendly because that's what you are right now. Friends." Milo takes all this in and is like, "Nope, just gonna shove these feelings down for eternity." "I'll tell Marie—" "I will beat your ass." He knows Asher has a point though. Any idea Milo might've had could be easily construed as them just chilling as friends. But he doesn't really act on anything for awhile.

Now, before we get into the next phase of this, some added backstory: David had a crush on Milo growing up. I'm thinking a little after high school (won't say college necessarily since I don't picture them in college but like, young adulthood phase). He'd always found Milo incredibly attractive and found his boldness admirable in general. David was constantly thinking about what he had to do for others and how to make the pack look good (since he was the Alpha's kid then the pack Beta). Milo always felt incredibly refreshing to be around. But he figured Milo would never be interested in because David's just himself so he eventually got over it. Cut to that argument him and Milo had a few years back. He remembers that night when they made up because dinner had been fine but all he could do was focus on Milo. It felt nice to just hang out with him without the pressures of being Alpha. And he enjoyed listening to him talk about anything because he always had a strong opinion. I think around then is when his past feelings awoke again but there was a new obstacle: He was the Alpha of the pack. It wasn't like before, things were different. He'd never have a chance to pursue Milo without feeling like he had pushed Milo into a corner somehow. So again, he tried his best to push his feelings down, appreciate and value the friendship he had with Milo and leave it at that. It was enough to just have Milo in his life, even if it wasn't going to go any further.

Back to how these two end up together: the Moonbound Solstice. They're all at David's place, everyone's having a good time together. Milo's chilling, talking to someone from the pack when Asher cuts in and is like "Sorry, just gonna steal him for a minute" "Ash, you can't just— AY okay okay I'm coming" They walk off, somewhere far from the kitchen to minimize the risk of David overhearing. In hushed voices: "Alright, so what's the plan?" "Ash, what the fuck are you talking about?" "Milo, it's the Solstice. This is the perfect time to make a move." "Are you out of your damn mind? This is the last place I should be hitting on— On you know who." "What are you talking about it, it's perfect! The whole pack's here, no one would even notice." "Look, he's already got his hands full hosting the Solstice at his own place for a change. I'm just gonna chill and enjoy the night for what it is." Asher is pouting as Milo walks off, immediately thinking of what he can do to help nudge David Milo's way. (Unhinged alt route: Ash giving Milo a flat so he has to stay the night)

Cut to the end of the night, people are heading out and whatnot. David is subtly trying to get people out because he loves his pack but his senses need a break. Asher (+ Babe, package deal) and Milo offer to stay and help clean, and David lets them since it's only a handful of people. Milo's keeping his cool, vibing to the much lower playing music when: "Babe, what do you mean you have a work call you need to take tonight? Can't it wait?" "Sorry, Ash, I need to be home in the next twenty minutes" "Alright. Guess we're heading early." Milo thinks nothing of it until he makes eye contact with Babe. They smile with a sickeningly sweet wave. Those bastards. Before Milo can try to rope Ash into staying somehow, the two of them are gone.

When Milo and David are alone, Milo tries his best to focus on the task at hand because feelings or not, he's not gonna do a shit job at cleaning so David has to clean up after him. Once the bulk of it is done, David mentions that he needs to grab something from upstairs or maybe says he's going to go change out of his clothes (I imagine he put on something better looking but not as comfortable for the solstice). Milo's chill with that, getting his keys, phone, other personal belongings together. He happens to slip into the kitchen though, stealing a bit more of the food David had made for the solstice. While he's stealing (said with love), he hears very close to his ear: "You can take some home if you want." He nearly punches David, gripping his arm as he tries to slow his heart rate. "You tryin' give a guy a heart attack, Shaw (/lh)" because he legit didn't hear David come back downstairs. "Maybe if you weren't busy trying to steal some food, you would've heard me— Greer (/lh)." Milo rolls his eyes with a grin and there's a moment of quiet when he realizes his hand is still on David's arm.

He lets go, clearing his throat, confirming that it's actually cool if he wants to take some of the food home with him. David says sure, giving him a container to fill (or Milo takes whatever the food came in, not sure what I'm picturing David's cooking set-up to be). David walks Milo to the door (as a good host does) and the two of them talk in the doorway for a few minutes about upcoming jobs, responsibilities, all that formal shit. There's another quiet moment as the two of them watch each other. Inside, Milo's like "Alright, no one else is here. This is as good a chance as any." The second he gets ready to ask David out on a more proper date, David instead says "Good night, Milo" and essentially closes the door in his face. Milo stares for a moment before cursing himself in Spanish (my HC), walking to his car and muttering about how "Of course he was just being polite, what the fuck were you thinking?" On the other side of the door, David is groaning into his hands, face warm as he tries to calm down because he came way too close to making a move on Milo.

Intermission (Wow, you're still reading? Damn /pos): I wanted to think of how to push them closer to a confession before they actually get together and eventually settled on "sickfic shenanigans". Insert deliriously sick Milo whose phone died and he can't find a charger for the life of him so David goes over to his place to check on him. Initially, he's trying to get David to leave because "I can handle myself fine". But that doesn't last long because admittedly, he feels like shit and has been for the past 12 hours. The dynamic quickly turns into Milo convincing David to stay then being so sick his filter is hanging on by a thread (/lh). "Why do you have to go rush off so fast?" "Milo, I have a pack to take care of—" "First off, I'm part of the pack— (cue Milo coughing) And second, they'll be fine without their Alpha for a few hours." Milo's playing it off as lighthearted but David can tell he doesn't want to be cooped up inside alone on top of feeling like shit physically. A little later, when Milo's on the verge of falling asleep (as many do while sick), he's like "Y'know, it's fucking wild you don't got a mate, David. Like look at you. Doesn't make sense" David laughs at first, thinking Milo's sick delirious (which he is, but that's affecting his filter, not the validity of his words). He's like "ay, why are you laughing, I'm serious. Look— if I were ya mate, I'd treat ya right. I'd cook, I'd work extra hours so I could see ya, I'd make sure we're the best dressed wherever we go— not to mention, I got a great dick." David writes this off as Milo being sick and spewing nonsense but never forgets the words. Meanwhile, Milo (after getting over the sickness) is convinced he dreamt saying any of that to David.

Back to the present, David's been a bit stressed with work as of late so Asher suggests the pack take a trip/weekend vacation. He says he'll handle figuring everything out, letting David take a backseat this time. They go somewhere, a resort, a hotel, something that involves people having rooms they're staying in. Everyone's having a good time, chilling all day, night rolls around. David's in his room when he realizes he forgot to pack something— can be anything. Toothpaste, a charger, something for his hair, the specifics aren't important. He texts Asher, asking if he has the thing he forgot and Ash is like yeah. David asks Ash which room he's staying in, Ash texts him the room number. David leaves his room, goes there, knocks and waits patiently. Door opens, and who's standing there? Milo, shirtless and in the middle of brushing his teeth or some shit.

David's checking his phone to see if he went to the wrong room but nope, numbers match. "Asher must've made a typo. I just needed to borrow something from him." "Well, what did you need? Maybe I have it." Before David can leave, Milo's busy ushering him in, closing the door so he can finish brushing his teeth before finding what David needs. They're making idle conversation, talking about what they spent their respective days doing. While Milo's talking, David's kind of staring at his back, not processing a word he's saying. Milo turns around and notices and is like "What? Don't tell me there's a bug on me and you didn't say shit? (/lh)" and David is trying to think of a good cover up. Milo tries to lighten the mood, says he's just messing with David before going to find whatever David's looking to borrow. He finds it, hands it over when for a split second, his eyes land on David's crotch. David leaves shortly there after but all night, Milo's like "...That was a boner... why the fuck did he have a boner?" But again, Milo's mind is like "Nah, I'm reading this wrong somehow."

Now, I'm painting a picture: it's the next day, Ash, Milo, David, few others from the pack plan on doing something together while on the trip. Asher gets there a bit late but is somehow on time compared to David, who shows up minutes after (that man was up all night pining). Ash notices Milo's not here yet and has a devious idea (as always). He asks David to go check on Milo so they can go. "Why me?" "You were the last one here, it's only fair. Now shoo." David rolls his eyes but goes, getting to Milo's room, knocking. He can hear Milo's definitely inside because he's cursing and complaining. He knocks again before the door swings open to reveal a mildly disgruntled Milo Greer (my vision is he's in pants and a white tank with his name chain. The in between outfits outfit).

He asks what David is doing there, David explains that Asher sent him to pick up Milo, Milo's like "What time is it— Jesus fucking Christ." The issue at hand is Milo can't find an article of clothing that he swears he put in his bag. He's been trying to get by with alternative options but none of them look the way he wants them to, which is making him quietly lose his shit. David stifles a laugh, to which Milo lasers in on. "And what do you think you're laughing at?" "You haven't changed since we were kids, that's all." Milo scoffs but admittedly, the sentiment puts a smile on his face. Almost immediately after that moment, he finally finds what he was looking for (tucked under something, irrelevant right now). He starts to get ready, pulling his shirt on, buttoning it up but let's say a button or two is fighting him for whatever reason. Without a second thought, David walks up, buttoning it for Milo. Milo's having an internal moment as a result, staring at David's hands then his face. David finishes and looks up to catch Milo staring. He clears his throat, saying something about waiting in the hall when Milo catches his wrist.

"Can I take you out on a date?" "What?" "I don't know what or where yet, but I just— I know this is probably stupid and I'm shooting myself in the foot here, but Asher's gonna kick my ass if I don't do something so— Can I take you out on a date, David?" David's taken aback. "Wait... so you were serious. That time you were sick. All that stuff you said about being a good mate for me." "THAT WASN'T A DREAM?" Cue Milo letting go of David's hand and nearly cursing himself out, running a hand through his hair because now he's mortified. "I can't believe I actually said all that shit to you—" "Did you mean it?" "Huh?" For the first time, David's not looking at Milo like a friend or pack Alpha. The look in his eyes screams pure, unfiltered attraction. "Yes or no, Milo." Milo's face is hot, "Course I meant it. I'd treat you great if you gave me the chance to show you." David steps closer, gripping Milo's face gently and tilting it up towards his. "Show me." Milo grins before pulling David down to him, the kiss they shared far better than the ones he remembered from spin the bottle games they'd played as teens. This kiss felt deeper and closer than that could ever compare. The moment they break away, gasping for air, Milo's busy unbuttoning his shirt. David asks what he's doing, to which Milo replies "I'm about to savor as much time with you as I can before I have to see Asher's smug face. Unless you'd like to explain how your hair became a mess between the time you left to find me and when you get back?" David laughs before pulling Milo to him again.

So yeah, that concludes this fic adjacent ramble (/lh)! I love rarepairs and rambling, so if people enjoy this, I may format some other rambles as they arise. I think I've got some Sam/David tucked away somewhere, so let me know. If you actually read all of this, wow, okay, thank you (/lh /pos)

#redacted david #redacted milo #redacted rambles #rarepair #mdni #PK Fic Adjacents #Making a tag now because who knows #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted rarepairs #Also yes I'm inconsistent in how I write Milo's style of speaking #I'm vibing so what /lh

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xticklemeemox · 5 months

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First ever Sleep Token fanfiction. Will be apart of a series detailing each Vessel's change to a vessel of Sleep. Eventual poly vessels. Vessel is not having a good time for a lot of this series. Also I'm not religious so Sleep has been a struggle to write.

This is about the characters, NEVER the real people. All appearance details are hc's of mine.

Tags for this part: hurt/no comfort, graphic depictions of self-harm, gore, suicide, suicidal ideation, religious themes. lemme know if I should tag anything else.

Word count: 9,047

Masterlist

The Love You Want: II

Link to ao3:

Fic under the cut.

The Love You Want: I

They came to him in a dream as he was teetering on the edge of life and death.

He had killed himself. Finally succeeded after various other attempts. It was everything he wanted, to finally end the torment of his everyday life and yet he regretted. Regretted that he never made anything of himself, never truly pursued music like he wished. Regretted letting his past lovers, his family, his peers, destroy him so completely that when he died, it was merely his body finally succumbing to the very darkness his mind had long since lived in.

Yet, broken as he was, They came to him. Asked him to be born anew as he floated in a vast expanse of stars, weightless as Their voice echoed around him, an amalgamation of every voice he had ever heard. "Will you be my vessel through which my message, my existence will be spread? I can give you everything you've ever wanted, if only you will accept me into your mind, your body, your very soul."

"I do not even know your name and you come to me and desire to give me everything. I am not deserving of anything."

"You are deserving of everything. I have watched you for your entire life. Witnessed your struggles and the few joys you managed to attain. I have seen others, witnessed their lives as I have yours, and there is no one better suited to be my First than you."

"But I am no one. If you've truly seen everything, you know how broken I am. Everyone I've ever loved has thought so, they've beaten it into me and made sure I would never forget it. I am broken beyond fixing."

"Your potentional, even as broken as you claim to be, is unlike any others' I have seen in millenium. As you are, you do not need fixed. As my vessel, you will be perfect no matter your state."

He wants. He wants more than he should, more than he deserves. He's always been so desperate for any sort of affection he let himself be used in so many ways, broken beyond repair but someone- something wants him. This God, a god, wants him to be their vessel. How many people could claim the same? This has to mean something. It has to.

He might bend, break, shatter beneath his desire to be loved. He is breaking beneath it. Resolve crumbling like the dust of the stars around him.

"I- I still don't understand why you want me but-"

With a blink of his eyes, everything changed. Above him, a moon shone brightly, larger than any he had ever seen before. Lain on his back, bright candlelight flickered around him in a circle, dimmer still than the stars he had been floating amongst what seemed like hours- seconds- minutes before. Time is dilated here, stretching out beyond his comprehension.

Sitting up, he noticed his skin had turned blacker than midnight. Sleep was all around him, every breath inhaled and exhaled a whisper of their name, a prayer echoed in his very soul.

"Be mine, my vessel, and I will give you what you most desire."

"And what is it I most desire, my God?"

"Love. I will give you love. My love, as my First Vessel, the love of your world, its inhabitants. You will be admired and sought after, revered, and in turn you will help spread my word."

"I will finally be loved...? But- Humans, my people are cruel. I have not been loved for even a moment my entire life. I have loved, but not loved in return. There is something about me that makes me unlovable. I will not make a good vessel for your message. Humans will see me and be deterred, as they have been all my life."

"A mask then."

"What?"

"A mask. To hide yourself behind, if you so wish it."

"Yes, yes, if I have a mask, then I, as myself, cannot deter them. A mask will allow them to connect to your message, to place their own experiences on your word without seeing me and guessing at my own experiences. I do not matter in this, it is your message and your message alone they need to receive."

"Yes, my vessel." Sleep agrees, but even they sound hesitant, despite offering up the mask as an option in the first place. "But I would not ask you to spread only my word. I will ask that you spread your experiences, your hardships. Humans dream so avidly of their hopes and desires, they do not process their pain as they should. Let them live their lives in the waking world, and as they dream, let them heal."

"If I can hide behind a mask, hide my true self and still share who I am, my pain, and still be loved as broken as I am then- I accept. I will become your vessel. I will bring you followers by baring my heart and soul. Humans love nothing more than to witness the pain of others, be it as a way to feel better about themselves or a way to feel not so alone."

"My first, my beautiful vessel." Sleep coos, "You will not regret this, I promise you. There is no one better to be my first than you."

The candles flicker out briefly, and when their light shines once again, a plate lay before him. Beside it, a knife whose golden blade gleams in the flames.

"Offer your heart to me, my vessel. Cut it out of your chest as your first act of worship."

Apprehension fills him, fear festering in the back of his mind. Pupils shrinking to pinpoints, he reaches for the knife with trembling fingers. He can barely hold its smooth wooden handle, his whole body shaking now. Bile rises in the back of his throat, but he swallows it down with disgust.

"Your heart, my vessel." His God urges, voices bouncing around in his skull painfully, "It will hurt. I will not lie to you about pain, not ever. It will hurt so badly and you will beg for it to be over, but you cannot stop until your heart is carved from your warm flesh and laid before me as an offering."

Steeling himself with his Gods words, he turns the knife's blade to face his body and without letting himself overthink it, plunges it into his upper chest. It hurts. It hurts like nothing else had before. Each suicide attempt was never without pain, but he thinks this most recent attempt- success may come close after he slit his wrists from wrist to elbow. That had burned like fire searing his flesh even as he bled out on his bathroom floor until finally, welcome cold as numbness settled over him like a final comforting embrace.

"Open up your chest for me, my vessel. Your ribs will not allow your heart to leave so easily."

Sobbing, he rips the blade from his skin, blood spilling out, and plunges it back in again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again-

He should be dead by now, with the mottled mass of muscle and veins and viscera that makes up his chest, but he supposes he really did die and this God is keeping his soul present enough for whatever this dream is to occur.

Dropping the knife at his side, he brings both hands up to grip a rib each on either side of his chest. They're slippery and wet, and his hands shake and struggle to hold onto the bone beneath whatever meat is still attached. A deep breath in that expands lungs that he just realized don't even need air, and he pulls with all his might. Screaming, screaming, screaming as his bones crack and every nerve in his body is aflame and all he wants is to die, to really die like he had planned, no matter what this God offers him-

"Good, my vessel. Your heart can be plucked now with far more ease. You just have to reach in and grab it. I know it hurts, I know. But you're almost done."

Sobbing still, tears streaming down his cheeks and snot dripping over his chin, hoarse moans and whimpers fall from parted lips as he reaches once more inside himself with one hand. Hunched over into himself, one arm trembles with the weight of his actions, struggling to hold himself up as the others hand grips the beating heart in his chest.

A sick squelching sound follows as he wraps his hand tighter and pulls, squeezing his own heart as it lets out weakening thumpthumpthumps upon its exit from his chest. He drops it on the plate, mind overloaded with nothing but pain as it feels like the heart he just offered up is still aching in his chest. His body screams that something is wrong, so wrong and he can feel himself devolving into a panic attack as his breaths come shorter and his heart- there is no heart in his chest- races like a stallion. His vision narrows and all he can hear is his own short breathing and static, such annoying, overwhelming static. Sand chafes his skin, fistfulls of it clumped in his hands as they claw at the ground in his panic.

Above him, the moon splinters, darkness hidden beneath revealed as the bottom shatters into pieces. Inky black tendrils claw their way out of the gaping hole at the bottom of the moon, seeming to reach out towards him. The heart is picked up with one of the tendrils, some caressing his face as others lap at the blood gushing down his front.

His body calms. The candles still flicker serenely, and in the distance, he can hear the ocean. He couldn't hear it before.

He forces himself to look, look at his deity that he tore his own heart out for. He can't look away, not even as six eyes blink open on the surface of the moon. He has to look away, he knows if he doesn't his mind will fracture and he will be lost to the void for eternity and there will be no first vessel of Sleep.

He looks down at the plate, desperately tearing his eyes away from one of what is likely many forms of his deity. Boneless, he sags, his deities touch having shoved the panic attack away at the mere sight and he knows it shouldn't be possible for something to look like that. This is real. He ripped out his heart, a God is going to love him, as long as he worships. In some corner of his mind, maybe he thought all of this was some dream, some last ditch desperate attempt from his brain so that he wouldn't regret anything when he passed. This is real.

An apple sits where his heart used to lay.

"Eat. Eat the apple of Eden, my vessel, and taste the divine."

With slow, pained breaths, he moves a shaking hand to grip the apple tightly. It's bright red, glowing brighter than the candles around him. Blood and drool drip down his chin, but he still brings the apple to his lips.

When he takes a bite, blood fills his mouth and spills over his lips at the corners. He knows it is his. The apple is chewy, like biting into an overcooked steak and he almost spits out his first bite at the nausea it causes in his stomach. He wonders if its his own heart turned into an apple, probably a small feat for a God. Then he tastes it, truly tastes it. The flavor is like nothing he could have ever imagined, so sweet he knows he could eat just this for the rest of his life and never tire of it. With every bite, every swallow, he feels more of his sense of being slip away. His past is slipping into the infinite; his pain, his self-hate, his capacity to love, to create, to feel, they are all that remains. Divinity is a bitter thing but Vessel never wishes to stop tasting it.

"Your mask, my vessel." His God speaks once more, as he is licking the blood from his fingers.

Before him sits a white mask, porcelain, with two eyes holes and cracks, and a sigil he couldn't name carved into it running down the middle. There was no mouth opening, but he finds he doesn't mind.

Picking it up, blood stains it in smears as he places it over his face. The mask, it feels right to have on. Like something had been missing his entire life, and he has finally found it.

"Rest now, my precious Vessel. Rest, and when you wake, you will be at the edge of my realm in your human lands."

His eyes slip closed to the gentle, soothing voice of his God. He can almost delude himself that there was a blatant 'I love you' in that nickname, and as his body gives out, succumbs to sleep, one of his deities words get caught in his brain in a loop.

Vessel. Vessel. Vessel.

When Vessel awoke, who he was before ceased to be. He couldn't remember his name. He didn't know how old he was. But he did know pain, could remember every moment something or someone hurt him emotionally or physically, like a scar upon his mind to match the ones he could remember carving into his own skin. He wonders if they still remain.

Vessel served Sleep. Sleep saved him from death and promised him his deepest desire in exchange for devotion and attaining more worshippers. And he agreed.

He remembered voices, faint echoes of thoughts and emotions, heartache and loneliness and self-loathing a constant. As he slept, he dreamt, feasted on the memories of his life leading up to spilling his lifeblood over his bathroom floor. Then they slipped away into the ether, yet the memory of his feast remained.

Opening his eyes, Vessel sits up. He lays at the edge of a dark forest, tall trees all he can see for miles as he gazes into the endless expanse. The moon shines above him, and he stands, something within him pulling his body further into the forest. The mask, his mask, sits securely on his face, and its presence is very quickly becoming comforting. He can hide himself away easier this way.

He cannot see much, stumbling over roots and falling into trees. His knees and hands ache with the scrapes and bruises he is sure he's gathered. Sleep lurks in the back of his mind, soft encouragement floating around his brain in a gentle murmur. Vessel trips on his own feet once, or perhaps twice if he were to admit it, but it doesn't deter him from his goal, not any more than tripping over the underbrush has. He walks for hours, never requiring water, or food. But he is slow, feet dragging as his body lags behind his mind. Accepting his God was an exhausting affair, and his body didn't rest like it should have, not like his mind had.

Soon enough, every step begins to feel like a leaden weight is attached at his ankles. His legs give out, and his masked face slams into a tree, nose beginning to smart. He forces himself to keep going as the pull in his chest has only grown stronger with every step further into the forest. Resting a forearm against a tree, Vessel pauses, finally taking notice of the long robe keeping his bare torso warm. It's open-fronted, black, with half-sleeves and a large hood that he pulls over his hair so that it covers the top of the mask.

"Faster, my vessel. Faster. You must make it to the manor before your transformation begins."

The voices of his God seemed to echo through the forest, trees shuddering with the power behind it. A migraine begins to pound behind his eyes like a battering ram, his vision whiting out at the sudden force. He stumbles, and when next he tries to get to his feet, he finds his knees aching and his arms barely able to push himself back up. Vessel finally stands, and in the distance he can make out a flickering light.

Hope blooms in his chest and spurs him to go faster. The light grows stronger alongside the pull in his chest and Vessel would be grateful if not for the migraine continuing to grow worse with every moment. His body begins to ache, every muscle burning, hands shaking where he grips his forearms tightly.

"Almost there, my vessel."

A gothic manor comes into view, a dilapidated thing covered in dark vines that seem to writhe on the outer walls- or maybe thats just his swimming vision. Vessel stumbles on the step up to the small rotting porch, fingers digging into the grey wood with the effort it takes to keep his body moving. Opening the door, he all but falls in, kicking it shut behind him before his body collapses. Everything goes dark before he can catch even a glimpse of anything around him.

Vessel is awake, and yet, he is also not. His body sleeps, or rests would be a better word but this could not be considered resting, not this agony that makes it feel like his entire being, body and soul, are on fire and all he wants is for his God to give up on him, to kill him so this torment will end and he'll finally know peace-

Vessel's mind is awake, but he cannot move his body. It lays on the floor, collecting dust as rats skitter over his splayed out hand. That simple touch sets his skin alight with agony as a headache pounds incessantly into his skull, never ceasing its attack. His heart would be racing as terror and confusion consumes his every waking thought, but he has no heart in his chest. Vessel's eyes are closed, but he can feel. Feel everything, hear everything. He wants to sleep, but his God will not let him.

Black sludge drips out of his open mouth, his skin itches and when it doesn't itch it burns. He can feel the changes being made to his body, how the skin of his hands and legs darken to pitch black, feel his ears begin to gain a point. Something is crawling up his spine and weaving over the skin of his ribs, over his shoulders and resting at his collarbone. He feels his nails grow out of his fingers and fall off, feels every single inch of new nails growing instead. He wonders fleetingly what they look like, in some shattered piece of his mind.

The transformation hurts, it hurts like nothing he has ever felt before. Not even ripping out his own heart felt like this. He is just a broken mess of skin and bones and meat, a puppet for his God to shape at their will. His God cares naught for how it pains their first Vessel, pouring more and more of their godly essence into his soul.

It could have been minutes, days, weeks, months, and he would never know. All he knows is pain. His whole body runs on it, its all he's known his entire life and now he fears that it is all his God will let him feel as long as he serves them. Did he make a mistake, pledging himself to a God he knows nothing about, just for the hope that someone will love him?

Transformation into a vessel of Sleep is not an easy thing. It is weeks trapped in Sleep's arms, aware of every change being made to Vessel's body as he slept, every atom that makes up his body screaming in agony.

Three weeks after arriving at the manor, Vessel awakens.

Getting up is a slow thing, rising on stiff limbs and noticing how uncomfortable it was to lay face down on his mask like that. His body still aches, but Vessel knows there is little else that could compare to the pain of his transformation. The first thing he notices is that his canines ache in his gums, feeling loose when he runs his tongue over them. When he reaches up to poke at them, the teeth fall out of his mouth. It startles Vessel so badly he stumbles back into the front door. Immediately the ache worsens and he feels two new teeth growing in at an alarming rate. Prodding at them with a finger, the tips are far sharper than any humans teeth and he realizes his God gave him fangs. For what purpose they serve, he doesn't know. Blood spills past his lips, mixing with the black sludge that he wipes away, spits out, desperate to rid himself of the taste. It's foul, rotten almost, but with a strangely sweet undertone, and the conflicting flavors cause nausea to roil in his gut.

Then he sees his palms, or rather, his entire arm. The skin until just above his elbow is pitch black and what looks to be tendrils of darkness crawl up about halfway up his bicep. His scars remain, a shade of grey instead of black that stand out against his inner arms. The nails he felt grow in are longer than his old ones, sharper, and pitch black like his skin. Idly, he wonders if its sanitary to use them on his own flesh, to dig in deep enough to draw blood.

He wonders if his legs look the same, or his back. Deciding to wait and see that later, Vessel looks around him. The inside of the manor is covered in vines just like the outside. The ceiling looks mostly intact, but there are a few missing floorboards, and cracks along the walls of the small entrance parlor. As he moves through the house, taking in the mostly furnished living room, the empty kitchen, and a large empty room, Vessel continues to find more vines and a decently sized bathroom. Most of the walls contain the same wallpaper, a lighter red with damask print that goes down about halfway from the ceiling where the print suddenly transitions to a dark wood that matches the flooring.

Moving on to the second floor, the wooden stairs creak under his steps and Vessel cringes, trying to make as little noise as possible even now, alone as he is. The staircase itself is a beautifully carved piece with swirling designs etched into the dark wood. A second, smaller living room sits at the top of the stairs, with two hallways branching off to the left and right. Heading left, Vessel finds three bedrooms and a bathroom, in the same state as the below rooms. Empty but not in terrible shape. Going back through the upstairs sitting room, he makes his way to the right hallway. Down this hall, there are two more rooms, but upon closer inspection, only one bedroom. The last room is empty except for a small coffee table placed against the middle of the back wall, and absolutely covered in vines. They seem to writhe under his gaze as he stares at them, moving further into the room.

The first thing he notices is his God, their presence is considerably stronger here, but he can tell they aren't truly in the room with him. A single red candle sits upon the coffee table, behind an offering plate, the same he placed his heart upon when accepting his God. It's a sad thing, burned down to about an inch of candle left, the wax having spread and dripped onto the floor. A large red sigil is painted into the wall above the coffee table, glowing gently and dripping deep red paint that seems to vanish before it can reach the floor. A strange thumping sounds seems to be coming from the walls, and when he leaves the room to see where the sound is coming from, he can no longer hear it. Entering again, the thumping can be heard once more. Listening closer, it almost sounds like... like a heart.

"Is that... my heartbeat?" He wonders aloud quietly to himself, feeling ridiculous for even suggesting it.

The small surge of approval from his God confirms his question and Vessel can't seem to make himself feel much of anything over the revelation. His heartbeat echoes in what looks to be an altar room. It must have something do with offering it up to his God.

Making a decision, Vessel makes his way back downstairs while he checks his pockets. He finds a wallet, pulling it out to check for money. Five dollars and three pennies is all he has. Shit. Not to mention he doesn't actually know where he is, or if there's even a town nearby. Deciding to save the idea for later, Vessel moves to begin cleaning the house. His body still aches, but he has the vague notion that it is a familiar pain and he can't quite place how he knows that. He finds a broom and dustpan in the closet which he sets aside in the living room to use once he's cleared out the larger bits of debris. Vessel makes no move to remove any of the vines, preferring to leave them as their presence is almost comforting somehow. He knows, as long as the vines are in the house, that he is safe here. He feels it in his soul, like he knows that sigil painted on the wall holds his heart, a symbol of his worship.

Its hard to move past the aching in his bones, the tiredness of his muscles, but Vessel manages. Time is far away from him as he works. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks he should have slept by now, or eaten, but there is nothing to eat or sleep on whether his body tells him it needs rest or not. It doesn't, his mind does, but Vessel feels he has rested enough. That stretch of time under his transformation process makes it so that Vessel doesn't want to sleep, even if he could.

After clearing out the living room of dust and debris and whatever else, he moves to the kitchen to see if there is running water or electricity. The thought of electricity causes him to pause, though, as he's reaching for the faucet attached to the sink. Vessel doesnt know how long he's been awake, but at no point did he need to light a candle or open the drapes in the living room. Quickly, Vessel opens the curtain on the small window above the sink, and upon looking outside, finds the moon shining dimly above the copy of trees surrounding the house. When he closes that same curtain, his vision doesn't change despite being able to visibly see the rays of light disappear.

Vessel can see in the dark.

Taking this change in stride, Vessel continues working into the morning (after finding out that there is running water and electricity) where he can see the sun rising through the curtains. Deciding to take a break, Vessel heads outside to watch the new day begin. Sitting on the top step of the tiny porch, Vessel watches through the canopy of leaves how the sun inches its way over the horizon, noting how his vision spans a further distance and is far clearer than his human eyes could ever see. Though, when the first sunray peeks over the trees, barely hitting his face, Vessel recoils. The light is blinding, sending pain shooting through his temples and behind his eyes.

Reaching up to cover the eyeholes of his mask, Vessel quickly makes his way back inside, a little sad that he couldn't continue to watch the beautiful sky above him. A small headache begins to pound at his temple, but Vessel ignores it with ease, giving up on his break and heading upstairs to clean there. He makes quick work of the altar room, sweeping, dusting, and mopping everything within a couple hours since the room was so bare. The vines move out of his way when he needs it, and Vessel assumes it is Sleep's doing, or perhaps the vines are sentient.

He is gentle when he wipes down the wall bearing the sigil, but even rubbing the old rag in his hand over one of the lines causes and uncomfortable feeling to burst into life in his chest. Gasping, he drops the rag and backs away. Okay, no touching the sigil on the wall no matter what. Vessel practically runs out of the room in his haste to get away from that feeling in his chest.

In the bedroom by the altar room, a leather-bound journal lays lit by a sunray that conveniently shines upon it. Still catching his breath, Vessel walks over to it, picking it up from the desk and opening its worn pages, warm to the touch. A name is inked onto the first page, but Vessel cannot read it, his mind unable to process the sprawling script. He knows it is a name. It is his, from before. Turning the pages with care, realization settles in slowly that this journal is filled to the brim with music. Lyrics, notes, chords, so many songs, and as he reads, the memories attached to the lyrics come back to him but still, he cannot remember who he was. He doesn't want to, if mere memories have shattered the heart he doesn't possess anymore.

He finds one titled 'Atlantic', and as he reads, tears well up in his eyes. He wrote this, Before, when he got home from his first suicide attempt. He'd tried to drown himself in the ocean after a fight with his boyfriend, fresh out of high school and in love with a man who couldn't love him in return. He'd failed, washed up on the shore unconscious and paramedics were called by some kind passerby. His boyfriend came to the hospital, saw his scars and fresh cuts and simply stood there. His face stone cold, unfeeling, uncaring as Vessel sobbed and sobbed and apologized and wished it had worked. The doctor talked him through his treatment and the healing process going forward, talked to him as though he was a child who knew nothing about the world and how he knows he could never understand the pain Vessel was going through to do this. When he went home, nothing changed and Vessel didn't know whether to be glad or devastated. His boyfriend didn't begin to love him, didn't even act like he was there at all. He became something less than before, in that small apartment, something less than human. Every attempt at affection was brushed off or met with yelling in his face. So he stopped trying, let his boyfriend take what he wanted and never receive anything in return until the man eventually got bored of him and left him sobbing in their doorframe.

Something splashes on the pages held carefully in his hands. It shimmers like liquid gold, staining the pages and blotting out a few words in the chorus. When he reaches trembling fingers up to the underside of his jaw to see why his face is wet, they come back dripping gold. He's crying golden tears. Another of Sleep's changes.

Vessel closes the notebook and places it back down gently, deciding this is to be his room. And so, he gets to cleaning it. Throwing out what little furniture there was that was unsalvagable, sweeping up the floors with the broom he found. Upon closer inspection, like the rest of the house, most of the furniture is completely trashed. A hint of apology pokes at the edges of his mind, and realizing now that it is Sleep, Vessel sends back a wave of reassurance, once he figures out how.

Asking aloud, Vessel hopes Sleep can hear him, "Do I need sleep, as your vessel?"

Sleep's voices echo around him again, "As my First, you do not require it unless it is related to your duties. The others, when they come, will need it, but far less than a human seems to need."

Anxiety fills his chest at his Gods words. Others? There were going to be others? Vessel doesnt know if he can handle others. How is he supposed to perform his duties if whoever these people are don't like him?

"Others? I thought it was going to be just us?"

Vessel should have known he would never be enough. Of course his God would need others, Vessel could never be enough by himself to appease the needs of a God. It is only right they take on more vessels to help worship and attain followers. Despite knowing this, the sting in Vessel's chest doesn't ease at the notion that even now, he still isn't good enough.

"Yes, I have my eye on four others at the moment. They're still alive right now, and I'm not quite sure if they'll be fit for what I require."

"Four others?" Vessel laughs bitterly to himself, a silent thing that barely shakes his shoulders, "Of course. Should I ready the other rooms? I'm not sure we'll have enough."

"No, my vessel. I will let you know when the time is right. I do not yet have the power to bring more vessels under my wing, but soon enough my decision will be made and an offering will be needed."

"Yes, my God. I await your word." Vessel replies quietly, wiping the last of his tears away that linger under his mask, careful of his new claws sharp points.

Cleaning this room is more work than the altar room, and Vessel's body tires easily, finding he still hasn't regained the strength needed to move the larger pieces of furniture. Giving up for now, he moves on to the rooms in the other hall, cleaning those as thoroughly as he is able. A day or two passes like that, small breaks being taken in between and Vessel finds he doesn't need to sleep, though his body grows weary from the work but slower than a humans would. He doesn't need to work by day to see, as his eyesight remains clear and bright.

It's on the second day, cleaning the kitchen as his final task, that Vessel asks a question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue for days. As he asks, he nicks his lip on a fang for the umpteenth time, reopening a cut he'd gotten the first day he woke up, wiping the blood from his lip absent-mindedly. He's so tired, and his body is telling him to sleep but his God said he did not need it, so he will stay awake.

"As a God, could you not just keep the house clean? Or magic away the mess yourself?"

"This house holds your heart, you will keep it clean. It is not a difficult task, my vessel. Do not complain about something so easy."

There's a bite to their words that Vessel has never heard before. He cowers back instinctively, as though struck, the tone reigniting some forgotten part of his brain, the same that demands he move through this house as though it isn't his own heart beating in the walls, quietly as if he would die if not silent. Fear rises up in him, all because his God took an unfriendly tone and his hands start to shake.

"Right, of course." Vessel hunches into himself, quieting his breathing as tears well up in his eyes, "I'm sorry, my God. I will keep the house clean as you've instructed. I won't ask again."

The vines and the walls shudder, wilting around him but Vessel pays them no mind, focused on making himself as small as possible, less of a threat. Sleep would be frowning if they had a physical body present, but instead allow their essence to gently brush against their First's mind. They find fear and sadness, regret and acceptance. Self-loathing is prominent as well.

Humans really are strange creatures. Devoted to worshipping their gods but so unwilling to really work for their own benefits, relying on murdering each other and toppling religions and cultures that don't fit their preferences.

"Keep the house clean, my vessel, I am soon to make a decision on my second vessel. Perhaps you should get to fixing up one of the upstairs bedrooms."

Vessel realizes this is why Sleep needs more vessels than just him. If he can't even do this simple task of cleaning the manor himself then how is he supposed to gather followers for his God? Fingers scratch at his arms in his distress, sharper nails digging in unknowingly despite the familiar action, though Vessel can't quite remember why its familiar until a wet sensation meets his fingertips.

Ignoring it, closing a palm over the open wound, Vessel says quietly, so quiet its a whisper, "I, um, I need to get furniture, Sleep, for the second vessel. I know you said I do not need sleep but they would, and the furniture here is too rotted and destroyed to use. And we have no food."

"Oh, yes, the vessel will need that won't they. A bed to sleep on, and clothes to eat. Very well then, go on into one of your human towns and obtain these things. I have other things to attend to, I cannot babysit you, my vessel."

Flinching, Vessel nod, but forces himself to speak up again, "I don't have any money, or know where a town is."

The voices of his God rattle in his skull as they sigh frustratedly, "Must I do everything for you? Here, take this thing for money. You will not run out of your human currency with it. Creating money is such a simple task for me, its almost laughable."

Vessel cringes as a card appears in his unoccupied hand, but Sleep continues speaking, "As for transportation and location, the forest will lead you out if you ask. Your car from before you were my vessel is there at the edge of my lands. I have erased all forms of identification from it and used a bit of my magic to make it seem less interesting to your human authorities. Do not drive like a fool. Oh, and a map with the manors location as well as the closest human town will be inside. Now, do not bother me again. I am busy searching for more vessels, it is important work. If you disrupt me, there will be consequences, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sleep." Vessel confirms, gaze downcast as blood dribbles down his arm and splash-splash-splashes on the floor he spent so long cleaning.

When Sleep is gone, Vessel sinks to his knees. Bone-deep tiredness has sunken into his marrow, and he wants to sleep, wants to never wake up. He digs his nails in a bit harder and his eyes shutter at the relief the pain, the blood spilling brings. Vessel is grateful his God was so lenient with him after he fucked up and asked a stupid question. He'll have to remember to think over what he's going to ask before he does it, if he asks anything ever again at all.

When the haze of his Gods disappointment in him lifts, terror strikes again immediately. Sleep, their presence, he can't feel it anymore. At all. This entire time its been a constant in the back of his mind, even when he could tell they were busy with something else, but for them to be just gone entirely?

Vessel fucked up. He didn't mean to, he really didn't. Now Sleep's left him alone. Vessel is not good at being alone. He's not sure how he knows but he thinks, in some locked away part of his mind, that his mental health takes a nosedive from bad to fucking detrimental. Maybe thats why he always had a lover, to keep the detrimental away. He couldn't remember- can't think- no, he does remember. Just this.

Vessel has tried to kill himself every time a partner leaves him, broken and beaten and at his lowest. None of his breakups have ever been amicable. If his God has left him, maybe he should just end it all for good. He wonders what would happen if he just took a sledgehammer to the sigil on the altar room wall. Its his heart, isn't it? Wouldn't deadly damage to it kill him? No, no, Sleep gave him a task. A task! For the second vessel. Vessel has to complete his task, and if his God doesn't return within the week, then- then Vessel can finally know peace and not have to live in this body of his alongside its fucked up mind. They have more vessels to pick from. He doesn't matter.

Ah, wait-

He's not sure he can die, like this, changed to the whims of Sleep. Not sure what it would do to his God. There's a reason his heart is beating in the walls of this manor, a reason even now that the vines around him shudder and writhe in response to his emotions. Vessel doesn't want to hurt his God, would rather chew off his own arm. His God saved him, promised him love, the love of the world.

Quietly, as tears run down his face, silent sobs shaking his shoulders only just, Vessel, in a desperate sort of plea perhaps, whispers, "They didn't notice when I ripped into my arm with my nails. Didn't notice or didn't care. I can- just do that. I'll feel better afterwards, I'll go into town and complete my task from Sleep."

Yes, that's what he'll do.

There is no other thoughts in his head as Vessel brings up his hand to his already bloody arm and digs too sharp nails into his forearm and pulls. A slice follows the action, blood beading up immediately, and Vessel sighs at the way his brain fogs up again but in a way that drowns out his thoughts. There is only this moment, the blood welling up and spilling over, and the silence of his brain. He does another, a little further up alongside an old scar. Vessel is making another before blood can even surface, then another, and another, and another-

He's not quite sure how he got to this many cuts, but finds he doesn't mind. Finished slicing up his arm, basking at the relief flooding his system, Vessel stares as blood drips steadily onto the floor he worked so hard to clean. There is a numbness that comes with this fog, and Vessel can't bring himself to care, no matter how his body aches from the constant work to clean up this manor.

He searches for anything to help slow the bleeding, finally calm enough to make rational thoughts despite the empty void where his Gods presence should be. Finding nothing, Vessel sighs in exasperation. He'll have to get a medkit from that town nearby, not just for his habit but Sleep did mention the other vessels would be more human. They'll need things to stay healthy, like medicine and bandages.

Taking another look at his arm, Vesssl finds he didn't cut too deep and that the bleeding is already slowing. By the time the bleeding stops entirely, he can barely see the marks on his arm except for the faint dark red stabbing. Looking down at his outfit, Vessel begins to make his way out of the house, wiping the blood off on his robe as he goes. Ah, he'll need clothing. And a washer and dryer but Vessel isn't sure he can do that part himself. Those machines are quite heavy and he'd rather die (that- is not saying much) than have something like that delivered to his doorstep. Glancing at the trees around him as he walks, Vessel isn't sure the forest would take kindly to unexpected visitors.

As for furniture, maybe he should just buy a mattress for the second vessel for now and then give them the card to go buy their own things. As it is, the thought of going to a brand new town, to brand new stores, with completely new people he's never met or seen in his life is causing anxiety to stir in his chest and panic to rise in the back of his mind. Taking a deep breath, Vessel focuses on the trees around him to try and calm down. Dark wood, deep green leaves that block out most of the sun hanging in the sky above him, sparing his eyes the pain of the light.

Soon enough, he comes to where he woke up and continues on past it. About five minutes more and he finally sees the car his God was talking about. The keys sit in the front seat, and Vessel opens the door with ease. Climbing in, he finds he barely fits his long legs in well enough to drive. The car starts but as Vessel moves to put it in reverse, his gaze catches on a black something-or-other in the back seat. Picking it up is easy, and Vessel finds it to be a hoodie with 'Alpha Wolf' written on the front.

He used to wear this all the time, Before. Vessel can't remember his name, or his parents, or the faces of any of his past partners, but he can remember music. The music he enjoyed, snippets of the music he made, could play. Without music, Vessel would be nothing.

Slipping off the robe, Vessel shimmies it out from under his ass and places it gently in the passenger seat. Removing his mask feels wrong, like a part of him is missing and he's quick to slip it back on once the hoodie is over his head, before his arms are in the sleeves even. The hoodie is loose, sleeves too long, but Vessel adores it immediately as the hood fits over his head nicely even with the mask. He's glad his love for it didn't fade with his name.

It'll cover his new cuts and old scars too, as well as his arms entirely. If he's lucky, no one will ask about the mask, or his hands. As his God said, a map is in the glove box marking where the town is and his current location. The drive is filled with the sounds of a cd he found in the middle compartment from a band called 'Evanescence'. The woman's voice is beautiful and Vessel finds he knows all the words, singing along quietly, memories of discovering them surfacing.

Not knowing his name, or anyone from his past is becoming less and less distressing. He remembers his pain, and these things that gave him some form of happiness and that's all that matters. Vessel doesn't need anyone but Sleep now, for as long as the God will have him.

Pulling up to a furniture store, Vessel tries to resolve himself to just walking in, buying a mattress and getting out. If he drives slow enough after getting the thing on top of his car, Vessel is sure he can make it back to the manor. Probably. He fucking hopes so. His God did not make this task easy for him. He wonders if They even knew what getting a bed for the second vessel entailed.

If he gets a mattress, thats one task done, as best as he's able. His God will be disappointed when they come back, if they come back after Vessel fucked up so thoroughly, but he thinks that would be better than not completing any part of the task at all. Groceries would be pointless without knowing what the second vessel likes to eat, or when they will arrive. Vessel wonders if Sleep thought of that, too.

Tears well up in his eyes and Vessel rubs at them through his mask, eventually just lifting up enough to get his hand under so he can wipe them off his face. Fuck. Fuck. He can't do this. He can't go in there and talk to a stranger, it was bad enough when it was his own face but the mask makes it worse.

Ripping it off, unease fills him, made worse when he catches sight of his eyes in the rearview mirror.

Black has crawled over the sclera to replace the white, pupils shrinking to nothingness and the blue of his eyes have turned into a blood red.

Vessel really can't do this. How is he supposed to go into any store like this? He could possibly say its tattoos, or contacts, but fuck, Vessel doesnt have the social capability. As it is, his anxiety is through the roof and he's shaking so badly its vibrating the entire car.

No, no. His breaths come out in shorter and shorter pants, lungs constricting in his chest. Shit. Shit. Not right now.

Vessel puts his mask back on, even as it makes oxygen even harder to bring in. Its soothing weight helps him get ahold of himself.

He'll simply punish himself for disappointing his God when he gets back to the manor. What are a few more cuts for being such a fuck up? His ankles should be open if there isn't any more space on his thighs, or maybe he'll do his hips instead. Taking in a shaky breath, Vessel pulls back out of the parking lot and heads back to the house.

He does as he said he would, bleeding all of the bathroom floor but feeling much better about himself. He hopes his God won't be too upset if they come back. He didn't complete his given task, not even a bit of it. Vessel thinks it would be better to have the second vessel help him pick their own furniture and food anyway. Not to mention Vessel wants to stop by and get some things for Sleep's altar. He hates how barren it is, devoid of anything truly worthy of his God.

As Vessel waits for word from his God, letting his wounds heal much quicker than he expected they would, and adding on more when the despair was too much, or if he simply felt like it, a week and a half passes before his God comes to him again. By that point, he had gotten rid of all of the old furniture that could be reused and cleaned up all of the rooms in the upstairs hallway opposite if his and the altar room.

Cleared of dust and debris now, the manor could almost be called an actual house if it weren't for the lack of furniture and the occasional missing floorboards. Or the vines covering most parts of the walls and along the baseboards and weaving between the balusters of the ornate staircase.

"My vessel, the second has been chosen and accepted me in turn. He will awaken within the hour. Be ready for him to arrive here." Sleep's voice booms in every corner of the house, startling Vessel at the sudden presence.

The stair he stepped on creaks under his uncalculated weight and he cringes, dropping his pen. "Of course, my God. I will be prepared."

It bounces down each step, clattering thr whole while and Vessel watches it go with reluctant acceptance. The new vessel will be here soon. He hopes they don't mind his presence too much. Vessel supposes he'll just stay out of their way unless duty requires it.

"My vessel," Sleep begins, and Vessel pauses as he picks up his pen. "How is your worship coming along?"

Gaze downcast, Vessel replies, "I have a couple songs written, but nothing to play them with except my voice."

"I will gift you an instrument soon, then. I recall you were quite adept at a, what was it... piano. Yes, that's it." Sleep's voices are kind, and there is the sensation of a gentle touch against his masked cheek.

Vessel leans into the affection though he cannot see his God. Elation fills him, happy to be acknowledged so kindly, and Sleep will even be gifting him a piano.

"Thank you, my God. It will greatly improve my pace and quality of worship. I appreciate it." Vessel says quietly, truly grateful.

"Of course, my Vessel. Now, I must make sure that the beginnings of the transformation aren't interrupted after they wake."

Gathering his courage, Vessel stops his God. "Sleep, can I actually make a request?"

"What is it, my Vessel?"

The vines closest to him wriggle and writhe, leaves leaning towards him and brushing against his ankles by the bottom of the staircase.

"Can you give me some time to help him pick out furniture and food? I couldn't get the furniture here myself," at his Gods scoff, Vessel cringes, bunching into himself, but he continues resolutely, "and he would be able to pick out his food himself. I don't want him to be uncomfortable here before his transformation."

"You did perfectly well on your own, my Vessel."

Vessel thinks back to his weeks-long agony, laying in the entrance hall for so long, as bugs and rats skittered over his prone form and dust gathered on his clothes. He could still feel the phantom of that black sludge that dripped out of his mouth, and shudders.

"Well, yes, but you said this vessel will need sleep and food unlike myself. There is nowhere to sleep but the floor, and no food to eat."

"Very well. You have twenty-four hours from now. Tomorrow, at midnight, his transformation will begin. Be prepared."

Sighin in relief, Vessel scratches purposefully at a fresh cut. "Yes, my God. Thank you."

Sleep doesn't reply, presence fading but not going away entirely. Vessel is glad he's not left entirely on his own, finding comfort in that small tickle of his Gods presence that still fills the house. Holding his journal to himself, Vessel smiles. Its a small thing, hesitant but hopeful.

The second vessel will be awake soon.

#sleep token fic #sleep token #vessel sleep token #poly sleep token #ii sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token iv

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leggomyayygo · 2 years

Note

i saw your post earlier, and you’re absolutely right. the mileven tag has a lot of issues. first of all is the type of content being posted.

we barely have any active blogs, and the ones that are seem to be more content posting anti-by/ler hate then actually propping up mike and el. like from what i’ve seen, that’s exactly what by/lers make fun of us about, and we’re playing right into their narrative.

next is the cross-tagging. this isn’t entirely our fault, with bigger juggernaut ships mostly to blame. but god it’s so hard to find mileven content like headcanon or fic when it’s drowned out by anti content or unrelated relationships.

honestly that’s all I can think of off the top of my head, but i’d love to hear your thoughts.

Oh hey there!! 🤗

Ight lemme just preface this by saying I'm reeeeeeeeally struggling with word retrieval and transitions today, so I apologize if this is... clunky, lol. 🙈💧

It's a tricky situation for sure! First, we're outnumbered af. That alone puts us at a disadvantage for content output. Factor in that there's generally less of a "need" to generate content of long-canonized ships (for obvious reasons lol), and it's a recipe for a pretty quiet tag. The fact of the matter is that Mileven is and has been canon for several years now. It's only natural that hype would die down. For the most part, Mileven shippers have graduated from the honeymoon stage to having a more quiet and resevered appreciation for the ship. But for those of us who never left, or those whose love has been reinvigorated (me lol), it can be really frustrating when all you want to do is celebrate your ship. So yes, while I do wish there was more positive Mileven content to consume, I get why there's so little of it. A lot of shippers are just content with what canon has provided. 🤷

Now where anti-b*ler content is concerned.... generally I don't mind seeing it myself, but there's definitely exceptions to this and I can see how others would prefer to not see it at all. While I try to avoid the topic of B*ler on my own blog, I sympathize with Mileven shippers who are constantly under fire by trolls and antis who just don't know when to quit. It's really shitty and unnecessary behavior, especially considering how much they outnumber us. I get how choosing to engage with them could very well be giving them what they want, but simultaneously I can understand the frustration and desire to throw it back at them. Plus I'd be lying if I didn't find the content amusing or cathartic at times. I guess it really isn't my place to tell people how to deal with being harassed, but yeah. I agree that it would be better to only tag anti-b*ler. Even if don't mind seeing it, it would make finding actual Mileven content a LOT easier.

As for the cross-tagging..... Yeahhhhh... There's not much I can really add 😂 It's a much bigger issue than us, and aside from telling them to cut it out (a likely futile effort), I really don't know what else can be done on our side. THIS IS WHY WE NEED A "HIDE" BUTTON GODDAMMIT ASKSHDJDK 😤

Some final thoughts:

While there's little we can do solve these issues, one thing we CAN do is just try to engage with other shippers and put out content of our own. If we get the ball rolling, it may inspire others to do the same. Hell, I'm no writer, but because a mutual sent a simple Mileven ask, it got the gears in my head turning and I started writing a wholeass fic 🤣 I also want say that I do believe things are starting to head in a better direction. I've only had this blog for 3 months, but in the time that I've been here, I do believe that I've seen a positive shift. And I mean... we are bringing Mileven Week back this year, so I can't be the only one who thinks this. 😋💕

Anyway, I hope this was the type of response you were looking for! Again, my brain isn't working all that well today but I did my best 😅

Thanks for stopping by!! ✨

#leggomyayygo #ayygo asks!#anon #mileven #lol here I am tagging mileven anyway #maybe we just need a new tag exclusively for mileven fan content?#''mileven positivity'' or something?#would that even take off? lol

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landwriter · 2 years

Note

18, 26, 27

thank you!! such lovely questions <3

Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research? Oaths! It is set in a very real time and place in history and if I even mention it this will turn into an essay so you'll have to look for yourself if you're curious hahah

I have significantly more experience researching effectively than writing effectively. This leads to not so much researching because I think it needs done, but because it's a terrible reflexive habit and also usually fun. The only things Of Length that I've written until month or so ago were research papers, so it's hard to curb the impulse to Prepare To Write in that way.

The one thing I hate researching is clothing, because it feels impossible to Get Totally Correct, which actually does not matter at all, except by this point I've always forgotten I'm writing a fictional story and think I'm writing a paper that I'll be graded on lmao

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process? The middle! Fuckin' the MIDDLE. Specifically like - secondish draft stage, because everything that's gonna come easy has come, you can no longer avoid the bits you've [put this here]'d over, and a lot isn't polished to the point of being enjoyable but you have to ignore the urge to faff with already-written stuff to get the bits that don't even EXIST yet done. it's a very Responsible Time of the process and I hate it. It's what I'll be doing tonight! :))))

What area of writing do you feel strongest in? as far as actual prose goes - dialogue. my instincts for it are SO much more developed than for any other aspect of writing. it's the only area where I feel sure if something works or doesn't - the rest is sort of reading and rereading and messing with things until i convince myself i'm satisfied. but for dialogue i KNOW - i'll do things like move around dialogue tags/amt of description/action in heavy speaking scenes to find a rhythm I like. it also comes easiest and usually first - the words are there before anything else in 90% of scenes and they're often the backbone of any major Moments. if i thought i could get away just writing fanfic in the form of monologues lemme tell ya

[fanfic writing asks]

#asks #fic writing #you can put GIFS IN ASKS huh #the sandman

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ktsphere · 1 year

Text

I was tagged by @spineless-lobster and @brezideje so thanks!! (Sorry this has taken a while 😅)

1. Are you named after anyone?

No, my parents chose my name because it is bilingual and they liked it

2. When was the last time you cried?

Hmmm reading a sad fic probably

3. Do you have kids?

No, but I might one day? I'm not sure, I don't want to birth them myself (I am terrified of pregnancy)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Sometimes? Lots with my friends and siblings, but not with colleagues

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Idk hair colour probably, not really sure how to answer this

6. What’s your eye colour?

Dark brown (my pupils and irises almost blend together)

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings please!

8. Any special talents?

I can balance spoons on my face? Also do a Rubik's cube, juggle, lick my nose, and waggle my eyebrows independently of each other. Probably not all at the same time though.

9. Where were you born?

UK but I am not going to be more specific than that, sorry

10. What are your hobbies?

Guitar, crochet, knitting, climbing

11. Have you any pets?

No but I would like a doggy

12. What sports do you play/had played?

Climbing is my thing atm, specifically indoor bouldering and in the summer hopefully outdoor sport climbing

13. How tall are you?

Not tall enough! I can't reach the tops of cupboards it's very frustrating. However, I can fit into small spaces which can be fun.

14. Favourite subject in school?

Maths (nerd)

15. Dream job?

I wish I could do GCSE - A-level maths all day, I love doing little brain exercise puzzles. I went into stem thinking I'd do maths all day and I've ended up reading loads of boring documents and I hate it. Lemme know if you know of a job that is just fun puzzles please

I would like to tag you, reading this :)

#ask game

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calumthoodshands · 2 years

Note

Hey, it's meeeeeeee. So yeah, I totally understand what you're saying and I agree. Like these boys actually chose each other to become a part of their lives and they've always been more than colleagues from the very first day and that's the best thing. I guess if they weren't a band, they could've made vlogs and all and it'd still be that full of life and amazing haha.

But I've a question here, does this fandom has the ships? I meant of course there is, maybe, and if yes, is there any one like superior ship? I guess all ships relating to Luke and Mikey might be dead now? And I'm not talking about bromance ships haha. I just want to know the fd better.

Also, I think you can call me Kia, i don't really have a tag as such and infinity is a not-so-great name, I think 👀

Well then hello kia!!

No ur right tho they could be unironically very popular on YouTube if they had made vlogs or smth like… we all know they’re fucking hilarious when they’re together. It’s practically inevitable. But yes your question. This fandom does have ships! There are actually a bunch of fics on ao3 and i for one am one of the many contributors to it (see my pinned post for example. Or my masterlist). I’m not sure where your Luke/Michael assumption is coming from but quite the opposite actually! statistics wise it’s at the top of the ships! From what i’ve heard the ao3 fandom used to be more active, but there are definitely still a lot and definitely very good writers around now. The circle might be smaller, but the quality holds up. Now idk if you know about this, but you mentioned bromance, and that brings me to a different topic actually, bc 5sos is the first fandom i’m in that has, drum roll, bromance fics! And quite a few actually, even ot4 has been a bit more popular lately. There are some extremely cute ones inspired by the show or just simple cute every day situations, and they’re all worth a read i think. 5sos really are such close friends people said ‘yk what. Lemme just write abt that real quick’ and i think… that’s pretty cool.

One thing about this fandom is also — at least in this corner that i’m in (which is also restricted to slash) — that it’s very aware of the fact that slash is rpf. They’re real people. I know a lot of writers who sometimes struggle with that knowledge, bc many have read or heard that rpf is bad or wrong or whatever, but i really think that most writers here have found a good way to handle it, and know how to write them without… stripping them off their humanity and the fact that they’re actual people who deserve respect. It’s a nice thing to know that and be assured, bc i think it is indeed very important to remember that, especially in fic where you could theoretically write whatever. To me, really, it’s not even like i’m actively writing about them, to be honest. How could I really write about them? I don’t know them. Their fic versions to me are characters, i’m making up a character that is based on their irl person, but that’s… where i draw the line somehow. Fic is about creativity and writing stories and characters, and yes they are greatly based on the actual person, but you can never know if what you write what they’re doing is something they would actually do. Another thing in this aspect is also that 5sos straight up… seem to accept it exists? Idk where or in which interview it was. But they’ve never explicitly said that they think it’s dumb or weird or that fans should stop it. If they did say that, i would stop in a heartbeat. But they seem to be okay with it, and they don’t interact with it, so it’s not bothering them, and it’s very much only here on tumblr/ao3, so it’s like… who cares? And there really are some fucking amazing fics out there, no matter if it’s a hundred or two hundred thousand words. There are so many beautiful fics that handle the most interesting stories and issues and honestly, some of them are just straight up better than some books i’ve read. They make you cry and laugh and wish you could feel that feeling every day. If it wasn’t obvious yet, i love fic. So. Did this even answer your question i don’t know i’m sorry sojdlfjsjdl

I hope you have a nice day thank you for coming here i’m enjoying this!! 🧡

#ask #infinityxxxx #kia <>

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thelittlemermage · 2 years

Note

Hey! Love your blog, by the way (been using it to keep up with 21st-century iteration mouse fandom stuff on the dl, ty). I just think that post the other day, the comment about 2010s PatB fandom, and this blog getting flagged for "adult content" are especially hilarious in light of early 1990s A!/PatB fandom, where you'd come across an FTP archive with a folder marked ksf_wiegnhosdgjn/ or something and it'd be filled just with hardcore, uh, "content for mature individuals" when you clicked on it.

No warnings or anything. LOL. Newsgroups, irc, BBS, Mailing Lists, it was just a Wild West everywhere. I mean like, before the sign that can't stop meme DW from Arthur because she can't read was even put up. No pretense of the Internet being kid-friendly.

I'm putting this in two asks, really sorry about that!

Lemme just smoosh these together haha

Thank youuu 🙏 I'm glad you've been enjoying it lol. If you want to watch modern patb fandom crash and burn in real time you can go into my patb ask tags and work backward lmao. Tho idk if I recommend it. I also don't even know if I agree with half the things I've ever said anymore. But it is kind of a dumpster fire and I love those. And yes, the timing of me saying that and then my whole blog getting flagged did not escape me. It's funny but also 😭. I had to wonder if it was some malicious reporting because I pissed someone off, but it's equally possible it's because I had just tried to upload a Solar Opposites clip of a funny joke and it got flagged lol. But I don't know...why that would flag my whole blog. Rip.

LOL when the internet was that young I was also young. So I was never involved in ye old western cartoon usenet groups or anything v.v I think I started being online as a teenager and jumped right into anime fanpages and stuff, which were p similar I guess. Lmao "adults" for miles. I get so pissed at kids doing that now but I used to do that so much when I finally turned 18 it felt so weird being able to click a "I am 18 or older" button and have it be...true? lol But tbh I was mostly just reading fic, I wasn't actually interacting with people. Minors reading this, please don't actually go into 18+ groups and interact with other adults, I'm not condoning that lol. There's my disclaimer. But yea, it was definitely a "if I go out onto the open internet I will see some shit" vibe lol. Remember Limewire? It was "Well, I am either going to get the song this file is labeled as, an audio of Bill Clinton, or a graphic adult video clip. Guess I'll find out once it downloads." But yea, it does seem like now people are really concerned about what kind of content is public and it's prooobably because there are way more kids on the internet these days, like 2 year olds with ipads and they are not being monitored by their parents at all. Which is a little scary. Not really sure how to fix all that other than bringing back kid sites tbh. I don't think anyone under like...16 has any business being on websites like Twitter, but here we are.

#ask #the internet is so...internet lol

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muse-oleum · 1 month

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @terapsina a while ago but i'm never on time on this hellsite oops

----

How many works do you have on Ao3?

What’s your total Ao3 word count?

Hold on, lemme do the math..... that's.... 720,512

Bro, WHAT??

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently in my The Originals/TVD feels but I've written for: Pride & Prejudice, Bridgerton, Kingsman and Vikings: Valhalla

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Curiosity - Pride & Prejudice/Elizabeth Bennet & Fitzwilliam Darcy

Blooming Nympheas - The Originals/Elijah Mikaelson x OC

To Sing an Aria - Pride & Prejudice/Elizabeth Bennett & Fitzwilliam Darcy

Lady Alvonley - Pride & Prejudice/Elizabeth Bennett & Fitzwilliam Darcy

Always & Forever - The Originals/Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, almost always!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hehe, the ending has yet to come but here you go! It's my newest (and by newest, I mean like... today newest)

Beloved - The Originals/Elijah Mikaelson x OC

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmmm, I mean, it's not an "ending" per se, but I'd say Curiosity, so far. It has zero angst, just smutty smutty good times.

Do you get hate on fics?

No, and if I see it, I delete it. I do get odd comments sometimes, and I have been known to delete some just because they were weird but that's it.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

All I write is smut lmao, I'm a dedicated smut writer. It varies between suggestive spice and flat-out smut town. Smuttiest I've ever written is this one, an Elijah Mikaelson x Gia piece (because I love them your honor), but Curiosity comes very close second.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not... really? I have ideas for some though, but they're mostly plot bunnies at this point.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No and the thought terrifies me.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, if that wasn't obvious. Specifically in their BBC 1995 incarnations.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably this one (Pride & Prejudice) or this one (Harry Hart - Kingsman).

What are your writing strengths?

I have no idea, honestly. I don't ask myself this too much, but I don't do enough editing anyway. If it's out of my brain, it's out of my brain and if you see typos and tenses out of whack, oops, too bad.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Tenses and sentence structures, for sure. From french to English, sometimes it's hard and not everything in my brain makes sense. I'm also lazy, tbh.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Ew, no. The only one I could do is in French, my first language, and the thought fills me with dread.

First fandom you wrote for?

On AO3? Bridgerton. On this much cursed, much loved website? Kngsman.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's a tie between Blooming Nympheas because I struggle with actual plot stuff and, as of now, it's my longest ongoing project and I'm proud of that; or it's my latest piece Beloved, just because of how long I've been thinking about it and how long I spent on it.

----

Tagging: @ardentmuse, @mercurygray, @missnmikaelson, @use-your-telescope, @deathloveshischicagopizza, @jennifersminds and any other fic writers on here!

#tag games #writing #about me #about my writing

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rottmntsimp · 7 months

Note

can you do donnie x reader who frequently makes him hand-made gifts? Like jackets, crocheted hats, baked treats, paintings, etc.

Handicraft

Pairing(s): Donnie x Gift Giver!Reader A/N: See how I got this request done the day it was requested, since I chose to write it as headcanons, but I'm struggling to post the oneshot that's been in the drafts for a month 💀 Anyways, I think it's pretty clear I love talking about love languages NDKJSDKS

Donnie

💜 - Oh boy, am I gonna have fun with this one >:] (FYI I'm gonna dig into Donnie's love languages a bit)

💜 - OK so, as you might know, gift giving is one of the 5 main love languages, alongside many other minor ones

💜 - And I think we can all collectively agree, that gift giving is definitely Donnie's number one love language

💜 - He struggles with verbally showing appreciation [words of affirmation] and sometimes has difficulties with physical contact [physical touch]

💜 - So, my boy's gonna have to find another way to show his affection

💜 - And in comes the gift giving <3

💜 - Ok ok, onto you!

💜 - In my opinion, his reaction, well more specifically his thought process, might vary depending on how deep into the relationship you start making him things

💜 - Early on? Well, he'll gladly take them, maybe even just store it away somewhere safe if its something more long lasting, like idk a bracelet

💜 - Might be shy about wearing it in public

💜 - Ok well maybe not shy, more like embarrassed...of his brothers' teasing-

💜 - But if you're further along the line, then hell yeah

💜 - He'd wear any clothing and/or accessories you made with pride (as long as they're the right materials and don't get in his way or irritate his skin in anyway)

💜 - He don't care what his brothers have to say, cuz at this point, he's used to it

💜 - Can and will show off your stuff to the others

💜 - If you ever draw him anything or make him like a little clay figurine or something

💜 - You bet it's going straight to the shelf. Which one you ask? Well, only the one with the limited edition Jupiter Jim action figure, of course-

💜 - He makes sure it somewhere up high enough to not be damaged incase one of his inventions go haywire, but close enough so that if he's ever feeling down or unmotivated, he can just take a quick peek at it and BOOM- he's back, baby!

💜 - If you're the artsy kind, and you like to make stickers, oh lord-

💜 - If y'all have been together for a while, then he's probably going to let you stick a few here and there on bridge of his goggles, and maybe the little thing on his battle shell where it's on his shoulders? Straps? Idk man-

💜 - Now if you're the kind who likes to bake and/or cook, things get a little trickier

💜 - If it's something that suits his palette, then hell yeah, he might munch on it sometime outside the lab (No eating in labs kids)

💜 - But if it doesn't, don't worry these aren't going to waste

💜 - He'll give them to his brothers, Splinter, or even April if she's around

💜 - He'll make sure to stress that fact that he still appreciates it. I mean, you two could be in his lab, and he might be like, "I appreciate the cookies, by the way. I'll make sure my brothers send their regards after they've finished shoveling the remains into their mouths-"

💜 - And later, you two could be gaming together, and he might just pipe up and be like "Oh yeah, I appreciate you taking time out of your day to bake something for my brothers and I-"

💜 - Oh and expect him to make some stuff for you too

💜 - Gadgets, fidget toys, you name it

💜 - If it's tech, it's yours, love

💜 - By y'all's one year anniversary, expect to have a drawer, if not, a full set of shelves, filled with all the things he's given/made for you

💜 - I mean, you didn't expect him to not reciprocate, no? <3

Taglist! (DM, ask, comment, or ask in tags if you wanna be added!!)

@lemme-be-cringe-damnit @sleepytime-fics @ray-of-midnight-storm @hamthepan @charismakat

#simps fics #rottmnt x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #2018 donnie x reader

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please-give-dd-bread · 8 months

Text

hey hey heyyy! not your typical yorushika post here but does involve them. as in elmy and ojisuma. anyways

sometimes i feel like my interests just bleed and blend into each other, unless they can't. (like i literally don't know how the same person that draws a butt ton of cats and likes to radiate positivity and enjoys kawaii culture and decora and happiness listens to songs about literally just living for music, and having no purpose once you literally can't create anymore, or about losing someone close to you and just having this hole. this hole in my heart they left behind. they used to be the one that could fill the void but now that they're gone i can't fill it, it's this hole that keeps spreading and spreading in the middle of my chest)

i mean let's be real i physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually can't connect Perfume and this like danish pastel aesthetic. or Kyary Pamyu Pamyu with 8/31, the day Amy ran out of ink and oofed himself with the one gay ship i show my support on in the back of my notebooks. (those men. they can break up in front of my gravestone. and my spirit will float around. forever haunting this land. edit: i read The Moon That Breaks by TheHufflebean on AO3 and when i got to the breakup scene i lied on the floor and held my breath for like 5 minutes because well. i don't have a gravestone just lying around. but then i reread the tags and there was a make up scene (which WAS there thank whoever you'd like) and continued reading)

and before any of you people on the wolfstar tag yell at me for not putting any content related to them um click/tap Keep reading please thank you

thanks for wasting your time trying to read this! anyways

there's going to be so many more edits and tweaks and finetunes i can FEEL it

lemme take wolfstar for an example (though yorushika hasn't been bled through, thank whoever you'd like, i will list it as an example. edit: yorushika may have been bled through.)

edit: feel more than free to steal these ideas =w= i'd be a terrible writer, art is my strong suit (tho credit me i guess? idk do what you want i won't be mad if you just yoink it from wherever you see this)

japan? poof. modern au. they move to shinjuku niichome. (japan's lgbt city)

um what else what else what elseeeeeee (sorry brain is scrambled rn)

cats? poof. they adopt more cats than any reasonable person should have. (with minor disinterest from sirius but remus is just INTO IT LIKE HECK YES CATS OR I'M JUST PROJECTING IDK) bonus points if they end up running a cat cafe/cat library

yorushika?

poof.

(okay don't steal any ideas from this point on i'm working on a fic for this)

(go read Letters to Elma and Elma's Diary if you want to make sense of what's going on here! i'd recommend you listen to the full albums That's Why I Gave Up On Music and Elma first though. also trigger warning - the protag for Letters/That's Why oofs himself.)

(also please don't yell at me for making them not sound like themselves, i wrote this at like 1am, i probably suck at writing and i modeled them after the original elma and amy okay thankth)

elmy au, sirius is amy and remus is elma. both are also music creators, sirius suffers from depression, gets told by a seer (idk why. oh maybe remus has a seer friend he'd like sirius to see?? *shrugs*) he'd have less than a year left to live because of a "chronic issue", loses it and [insert Letters to Elma here]

so i'm thinking it's kind of a poa grim situation here, where a bunch of symbols saying he'd die within the year just appear out of nowhere, more frequent than before and then he gets a diagnosis for some heart disease and then above scene plays out

edit: don't know how i forgot this buttttt um in Diary 5/15 Elma says "Life surely has an expiration date. Those were the words I let leak out to him, a long time ago." (him being amy ofc) and im just imagining remus saying a bunch of poetic stuff cuz even though he doesn't do it often, he's a freaking good songwriter then this comes up and sirius just internalizes those words like no other

also i think i've moved on from my Kamisama no Dansu (dance of the gods) phase, on to Ame Haruru (after the rain) and i want to mention a few lines. "another summer without you is on it's way" - i'm assuming this is remus going welp. i guess no boyfriend. it's been a while. (back when they were in school they had summers apart but then they moved in together so they also spent the summers together but ofc now that sirius is somewhere in gotland/farosund/idk remus is just. i guess you won't be there this summer) "finally, the rain fell" - a reference as to how amy/sirius left town before writing what it's like after the rain. and it's counterpart, "finally, the rain stopped" - remus/elma experiencing what it's like, knowing he didn't

more edit: uhm completely forgot about the lycanthropy so assume remus found a forest or something (you know what. it's the forest referenced in the instrumental mori no kyoukai/church in the forest) all the while sirius is in the back (or well lord knows where in gotland) cursing himself for forgetting the thing he does w/ bf every. single month

back to 12am me :P

oh but instead of writing down all the letters and whatever and then getting a box and mailing it off, sirius sends remus letters like individually and consistently so remus also goes to sweden and hunts him down but remus doesn't have any spare paper on him so he can't respond in any way

don't ask me how he sends the letters and how he receives the letters

oh wait i got it nvm! um sirius sends the letters by owl (how could i forget) and remus has a diary (because Elma's Diary) but you know. he's not one of those people that rips pages out of their books (at least in this au that exists in the void that is my mind)

and then he chases after him. literally looking freaking everywhere. sometimes they're 3 days apart. sometimes they're so close you'd be sure they have dora the explorer eyesight but no they JUST miss each other like BARELY by a MILLISECOND like seriously remus can freaking SMELL him but thinks it's like a hallucination (cuz he has been getting those recently, see Diary 8/27) or yk becuz he stole some of sirius' clothes (though on 5/15 Elma also says she can't taste anything so rem can't either. also smell & taste are connected so he essentially just loses the function to smell anything. sign of severe depression =w=)

and then comes 8/31. (machIGAUTTERUNDAYO WAKATTERUNDA ANTARA NINGEN MO--)

sirius is on the pier, opening the bottle of Flower Verdigris/Paris Green/Emerald Green/take your pick.

remus stands at the base (?) (what do you call that part on a dock/pier where you just get on) of the pier. he could recognize that black hair anywhere.

okay googled it

oh wait no that's for a floating dock

i googled it again

...found nothing. anyways

he stands at the base of the pier, at the silhouette sitting on the edge. he could recognize that curly, dark hair from 50 miles away.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!!!"

sirius' head turns. he seems to be crying.

"re...?"

anyways remus runs up to him and [insert nautilus mv epic outro here but instead of the guitar it's sirius and instead of elma crying the liquid water out of her... being it's remus who is also crying the liquid water out of his being][...also nautilus is a wip until they get home][to clarify things remus does not pick sirius up like the guitar. they're hugging so hard you'd think a spine would break and they're maybe kissing and definitely crying]

edit: i sat down and thought about it so um sirius is sitting on the docks like one would sit on a bench (legs dangling off of the surface) and remus just runs to him and drops on the floor, kneeling position similar to the epic guitar/piano outro in the nautilus mv with the thrown papers and they're still crying and the sun is rising because even though amy oofed himself on the dock around the evening on 8/31 here sirius tries to oof himself at dawn, cuz the line "someday, the dawn will break, so try and open your sleepy eyes, because i've pictured them so many times" and then they stand up face each other and then collapse onto each other (like lean onto each other) and then cue passionate kissing (finally) (ooh as the sun rises and parts through the clouds. someday i will try my best to draw it. and um put it here. be prepared for the ultimate pathetic. something idk.)

and right now they're just gay sobbing messes :P

yet another edit: i'm thinking i can find a way to incorporate the lily/remus friendship. so you know the old lady that first appears in Diary 7/5, right? i'm thinking she's at least a representation of lily, though of course in this au she's swedish (along with the other peeps. yk james and peter and severus mhm) so remus understands. nothing. in this au they first meet because lily needed help w/ baggage ig? it's on the ferry to gotland and well her first husband/bf passed on (shown in Diary 7/22, elderly woman says "Man" and smiles, implying she looks back on the memories fondly, and we're expected to believe this was her husband. i'm thinking in this au maybe??? snape/lily was a thing. not sure. write some ship in the comments/rbs i guess) also i'm pretty sure she thought remus was straight and that he lost his gf/wife and is trying to move on too (in case you forgot, he's looking for a certain sirius, which is in fact alive, who is his bf) and on the ship home on 9/25 (i like to think they as in r/s stayed in sweden for a bit longer, taking more pics together and enjoying whatever they missed while looking for each other) they see lily/elderly woman again with her child harry supported by the man she loves, james (aww that would be sweet tho. fluffy jily and wolfstar stuff at the end) (in canon Diary, the elderly woman with her children and the new husband is kind of a symbol for Elma, saying she'll move on and heal and potentially find someone else)

okay i thought about it and sat a bit more. and. remember 8/27? (the blend of fantasy/reality whatever where Elma finds Amy's stuff?) uhm i'm thinking something like that would happen here on 8/31, but ofc with more intervention from miss nice old lady (represented by lily). so she's moved on from her grief and found another love (james) right? well turns out james is still an animagus in this au (how helpful =w=) and lily is just. unsure of what the heck happened. (tho she does get some "help i'm looking for my boyfriend" vibes) until she connects the dots. they're fronking looking for each other before sirius' life reaches it's "expiration date" (though let's be real. throwing away that life would be like yeeting a loaf of freshly baked bread into the bin) so she tells james the master plan. she thinks on the last day of his life, remus would go out and look for him again, unaware of the fact that his boyfriend is literally at the lowest point of his life. so she'd sent out james for remus to follow (under the pretense that that was sirius' shadow, before leading him to the docks where sirius would go like once every like two weeks since coming to gotland to regret whatever he did) and then cue the scene from "and then comes 8/31. (maCHIGAUTTERUNDAYO WAKATTERUNDA ANTARA NINGEN MO--)" it's basically just saaaaaaaaaaaayonaaaaaaaaaaaaaaraa no haYASA DE KAOO WO AGETE. ITSUKA YATTO YORU GA AKETARA, MOU, ME WO SAMASHITEEEEE, MITEEEEEEEE, NEBOKE MANAKO NO KIMI WO, NANDEDATTE EGAITEIRU KARA (yeah i put some lines from nautilus, your point is?) all the while jily are just watching the gay sobbing messes™ from afar, in the forest or hiding in a bush near the base, high-fiving and cheering or something idk

ohkayee back again to me from 1am

oh also remus does write the responses to the songs sirius sent him, and they show each other freakin all the songs they wrote (so sirius shows him the summer grass gets in my way and a loser doesn't need an encore in the "original" notebook Elma finds on 8/27 but again this is wolfstar. so rem runs to siri and then they go back and take all the other stuff. and then remus shows him the pre-8/27 but in this case pre-8/31 songs and then writes ame to kapuchiino/rain and cappucino, kokoro ni ana ga aita/a hole opened up in my heart, yuu ichijou/only sorrow and the wolfstar version of amy because well. he wrote responses to almost the entire album. so close yet so far. and sirius is in the back reading the lyrics remus wrote and is just crying the liquid water out of his body because did he really cause his boyfriend that much pain? IM SORRYBDJSJSBDB DJSJSHEHDHDHDHEVRHFIKSJSJSJEGEUDHSHRJRIDJX DNDJE DDKAJWBBDJDISJABSDN9W72URIROAQHENNSOAOWIWKSKSKWKWKKAAAALSOWKMRRFIUY)

also sirius moves to the inn/room where remus stays in while doing the looketh for boyfriend and songwriting thing. remus doesn't realize how salty his pillow smells until now. (one of the downsides of crying yourself to sleep =w=)

i do realize there are some continuity errors in the way the songs are written, like in this au everything's supposed to happen within the same year, whereas in canon elmy everything happens assumably in two consecutive years (it doesn't explicitly state) and because it's written under two consecutive years assumably the songs would have to be written and sent at different times (especially august, a certain place, moonlight and evening calm, a certain place, fireworks.)

edit: so i'm thinking before the events of any of these. sorry if this ruins continuity in this au or something but like before the events of this remus co-wrote the summer grass gets in my way and a loser doesn't need a encore's songs (the first two eps by yorushika), specifically the ones with music videos except for The Clouds and The Ghost (for the summer grass - Say It. & Fireworks Beneath My Shoes and for a loser doesn't need - Hitchcock, Just a Sunny Day For You & Semi-Transparent Boy) and then when he finds the notebook they sit down and review the non-mv vocal songs thus far (Cattleya, Blooming In That Summer, A Loser Doesn't Need An Encore, Compulsive Bomber & Hibernation and they're all bops)

alrighty back again to 12am me :|

moreeee editttttt: so about the song Dance of the Gods. (because i've been freaking obsessed with it since like August) um there are a bunch of lines i want to include so. in the song at the end of the choruses, there are variations of the line "I don't care, I'll go even further, to a place no one's ever heard of, searching for the moonlight" (being "I don't care, I'll go even further, to a place no one can see, and put up an imitation of living" and "That's right, I'll go even further, to a place no one knows of, searching for the moonlight") and i think that's Elma giving up on creating music to give it "value" and "a life of it's own", and creating music because well it's fun but in this au i think that's remus going I WILL FOLLOW BEEF TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH IF THAT'S WHERE HE IS (not sure why remus would call sirius moonlight tho cuz well he's moony) (okay you know what. sirius looks down upon his ability to compose while calling remus' songs his moonlight and that he was jealous of his skills. remus, being the self loathing person he is thinks it's like a light hearted joke or something. now that his boyfriend is gone he's trying to find this "moonlight" boyfriend saw that he couldn't see, wanting to live out his ideals)

and another edit: so the August, A Certain Place, Moonlight and Evening Calm, A Certain Place, Fireworks problem. the thing about the Elmy story is Elma's story takes place a year, i think, after Amy's, so all the songs would be written at completely different times, not necessarily within a few days of each other. i'm thinking sirius wrote August and sent it out to remus and then remus wrote Evening Calm because they sound similar and at first canon Elma imitated Amy before slowly moving on to her own style so these gay messes do too

same issue between Let's Dance and Dance of the Gods - but this time i think Dance of the Gods was written shortly after Let's Dance

and then they go back home which is in Sekimachi i guess (that's the town Elma met Amy so ??? i guess r/s lives there now??? they (elma and amy) met in the cafe (that has since closed down) shown in the rain and cappuccino mv which is allegedly in sekimachi) and live long enough for me not to be able to think about how their lives end because now that i ship them so bad, reading ootp and tdh again would practically (and effectively) traumatize me. i'd be scarred for life. it's like that one scene in nakineko where Kento says he hates Miyo and rejects her in front of the whole class and then she starts tearing up and runs out of the class and Yori follows her and then Miyo is just numb to the pain. she got hurt so bad she can't feel anything. flash forward to when she gets home. *face buried in pillow* [LOUD SOBBING NOISES]

more edit: i just realized. okay so on the last Letter (from 8/31, when Amy runs out of ink) Amy states he quit music once, but Elma brought him back into it, after she showed him some songs she wrote and sung and he described it as (wait lemme pull up the doc) "unerring, faultless light that can only illuminate the night. unimaginably soft, dazzling beyond my wildest dreams, pale moonlight" (ink fades away at the word moonlight) and um now i feel like that's what sirius would sometimes call remus (besides moons or moony)

like no. honey we're gon kill no one today. thank yu. (maybe this is why i read fanfics)

another edit: so you know how i listed here they go home and share the songs they wrote and whatevers?? um now im thinking. remus finishes writing the last 4 songs that in Elma's Diary were written after 8/27 (rain and cappuccino, a hole opened up in my heart, only sorrow and the wolfstar version of amy in case you forgot) and sirius shares his thoughts

so um here

(also i feel like the "still grieving" thing would be remus. just being scared about the fact that bf might just run out the door and disappear again? and feels a lot safer when he wakes up with bf in his arms)

rain and cappuccino:

[first verse] pretty innocent

[chorus] *voice shaking* wow, keeping in track with the theme i see

remus: to be fair, what i responded to had a similar message. ...as if i could let memories of you fade away (no literally like i can't even if i wanted to)

a hole opened up in my heart:

[first three lines] MOONLIGHT BABE STOP IT PLEASE I SWEAR ON THE EXISTENCE OF EVERYTHING I WILL NEVER HURT YOU AGAIN

(for context, the song sirius would've written is false night, whose main line is "I want to open a hole in you", and this song is the response to that, with the main (and first) line "That's why a hole has opened up in my heart")

[end of the song] *lying on the floor, indistinct but very loud sobbing noises*

remus: well i did have to capture what i felt then. more grieving and crying up ahead

(this is by far the most painful song ever it's like a knife stuck in your chest and you take the handle and keep twisting it deeper into yourself just AAAAAAAAA LET ME CRYYYYYYY)

only sorrow:

[reads title] do i bring out the tissues or...?

[first verse] okay wow this sounds nothing like the song i wrote pretty ironic since you tried to literally "live" my life but okay

remus: wait for it

[chorus] okay i sound about ready to cry

amy (or the wolfstar ver):

(before reading/listening) if this is another song about grief i swear im going to go cry alone for the next 5 hours

(after reading and/or listening) *5 second delay* *goes and hugs remus*

(amy as in the song is one of the sweetest songs yorushika has made like ever in their 8-ish years of existence. it responds to the song elma and was written when elma (the person) finally moves on from her grief and now looks fondly back to those days. when her lover oofed himself and she went through sweden crying and looking for him. ...yeah not that sweet but idk)

all the while remus is just writing this and showing it to him like how i do with my art when talking about it with my friends. just "alrightyyyyyyy i did a thing. here. *smacks paper down on table* any thoughts???"

and then [insert healing and fluffy romantic stuff here]

okay thats all for the edit continue reading the thing 12am me wrote

oh shoot now i can't unthink this why T^T

um oh well i guess? i'll probably forget this was a thing anyways

oh but since we're already hereeeeeeeeeee

poof.

ojisuma au

(okay you can steal this one)

(read the novel Plagiarism for context here! the album isn't as important here, it kind of serves as a background noise and also expresses oji-san's experience. oh also yes, the album takes melodies, beats and rhythms from actual songs (as well as their own, in the song plagiarism) so yeah go listen to the album too i guess :D)

sirius is oji-san and remus is tsuma but tsuma doesn't die and they also work together to produce music but what rem doesn't know is siri has been stealing???? all of these sounds??? for the songs he thought was original??? and eventually siri comes to the conclusion that the only original thing he can create is his downfall as a musical artist (essentially just goes through what oji-san does but no dead wife but this is a wolfstar au so no dead husband.) so he does. this is my pathetic replacement for the prank and them not trusting each other. and rem is not happy. (he no trust him no more) but siri then goes and creates the two songs night journey and ghost in a flower because i think oji-san wrote those songs after he destroyed his reputation cuz they sound so different from all the other songs in tousaku (or maybe it was because of nakineko. not complaining it is still my fav movie. there's CATS. there's drama. there's CATS. there's romance. there's CATS. there's magical island with cats. there's CATS. did i say CATS. anyways)

um society as a whole just hates on siri. honestly can't blame society as a whole.

and then he releases sousaku/creation without stealing a thing (applaud for him please. i cant hear you clapping CLAP HARDER) and then *cue redemption arc*

yet. another. edit. : um i feel like adding some stuff so sirius would've written the songs Ghost in a Flower and Spring Thief to celebrate the relationship he had (and will get back) with remus, Night Journey and The Lying Moon as the break-up (but not the like "I'M DONE GOODBYE D:<" kinda songs, more like the "I'll remain here, as you go to the other side" or the "Rain has fallen, flowers have scattered/I still think about your rosy cheeks/as I keep drinking love from a bottomless ladle/It's true, it's tasteless, this thirst that's never satisfied, but you can laugh all you want and say "Is that so?/but I'll be here, just waiting for you") um and the instrumental creation would be a filler, and Robbery and Bouquet would be an allusion to his past self with the plagiarism and the sound stealing and i'm not sure what Eat the Wind would be

and then they get back together ^.^

(ooh but hold on. i feel like making a plagiarist remus and a tsuma sirius)

if the ojisuma au didn't sound as in depth or something know that Dakara Boku wa Ongaku wo Yameta (basically elmy) is like the most iconic yorushika lore

therefore more people are more interested in that (and i am part of more people :P) (also there's more context in elmy than ojisuma)

wow how the hekk did i connect wolfstar. a fanon (that deserves to be canon) gay ship about two friends in a group at a wizarding school that end up being more with... yorushika. a band that constantly hurts me. as in it hurts GOOD. like go listen to yoru magai and then kokoro ni ana ga aita. (with translations cuz im pretty sure barely any of you guys on the wolfstar or sirius x remus tag know japanese) LIKE STOPPPPPP THAT SONG IS THE DEFINITION OF GRIEF AND PAIN AND I DON'T KNOW HOW N-BUNA, A PERSON THAT SAID HE WROTE SONGS LIKE THESE TO EXPRESS HIS VIEWS ON LIKE LIFE AND DEATH CREATE A SONG THIS PAINFUL. LIKE HOW DO YOU WRITE SONGS LIKE THESE???

edit: i didn't connect them i practically forced another universe onto them (also i may be one of the first people to do this idk i have no idea who else is a big yorushika fan and a wolfstar shipper)

okay that is all i think have a nice dayyyyyy/nighttttttt/timezoneeeeeeeee

wait WHAAA

okay im typing this on mobile and??? you can freaking DRAG PARAGRAPHS???

...why don't they make this with tags i had to use little asterisks when i posted that apparently bots keep following me thing

wow this is like the LONGEST post i've made ever what the hell

wow the amount of times i've edited this GOSH

uhm anyways *hand on hip* *thumbs up* woo! *collapses face-down on floor*

#wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #okay it's been a few days??? and um the wolfstar elmy au is???? peacefully coexisting with the canon elmy in my head????#i got scared about the fact that whenever i think of something that stems from canon but becomes something else my viewpoint changes #and suddenly i start hating canon #well when canon is something you love/done by people you love or care about/both #it has been a few more days and i think it's safe to say that the wolstar elmy au can peacefully coexist with the elmy story??? lore??? idk #it has been about a few more days and it is defo safe to say they can co-exist #though i have been thinking about them in this au more than the original elmy #maybe cuz like there's more content about wolfstar idk #my interests. they just blend into each other like the sunset does into the deep indigo that is the night

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