#god uh

[aufhocker]

[ Thank the lord dog for our man's best friend]

[not-brionnnne]

NSFW. 18+. Okay. Oh God, uh. What if— like okay— hear me out— I know that people— I know that some people see Laios as aroace or some variation—fair and valid—and that Farcielle is the only valid ship to them, but God. God... What if— Modern AU!Farcielle.

Hear me out. They go to the same college. They're terribly in love. Falin dies. Marcielle is still very Consumed by Devotion. This destroys her. Laios is still very Devoted to Consumption. The death is— it is. It sure is. For awhile, Marcielle can't even stand to see his face or hear his voice. They're so similar, and God, she hates it. She hates it—at first. But God, she's clinging onto sheets and shirts and whatever she can and it's fading and it's all fading so fast and Laios is just trying to help in his own way. And it hurts. It hurts because it isn't her. And it hurts, but fuck, she's so tired. It's eating her alive, and he's right there, and maybe she hates him. Even though it's not his fault. Even though he's done nothing wrong. Even thinking about that—with his mannerisms and his voice and his face—makes her feel sick. Makes her feel disgusted. She doesn't hate him. She can't hate him. He's the only thing pulling her through. The only pillar she has left, and she leans, and leans, and leans. Tilting into the sickness rather than out. He looks so much like her, she finds herself thinking, an affectionate, frustrated smile creasing her mouth. And her eyes widen, and she's running. "I have to go!" She yells, keys jangling, voice shaking, and Laios tries. He tries to run after her. The plate she dropped digs into his foot, and he stumbles onto the door. Her door. The start of an engine. It turns over. Once. Twice. Then starts. By the time he fumbles with the knob, the telltale rev of an engine says he's too late. She disappears for a month and doesn't answer calls. He tries to look for her. He keeps calling. He keeps her couch warm until she comes back. He stress eats. He doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know how to fix it. And he waits. "Like a dog," says Marcielle. "Like a wolf," he retorts. She doesn't reply.

...

Marcielle returns and his wait is rewarded. His tail practically wags when he hears her keys jingling. He's done little else. The dish she dropped hadn't been moved. The food had. His foot has been wrapped, and the blood on both (the wrap, the dish, the floor) has clotted. Laios clears it up as best as he can now, frantic and frenzied and guilty.

Like a dog, he thinks. He dumps it in the bin and scrambles back to the couch to hide his misdeeds. Like a dog, he thinks again.

...

Marcielle unlocks the door with her head inclined; a soft open. The quietest of sighs breaks the silence. She turns on the light. Click. He shifts in place. "I missed you..."

Soft, like the door, like the sigh. Then broken. She screams. Breathes in. Places a hand over her chest and closes her eyes. She's upset. Shaken. More than that, she's angry. She doesn't know how to tell him that his face is the last one she wants to see. And yet. And yet. For a second, it happens again. She sees her. Falin. And then she's furious. She's walking over. She's pounding on his chest, and he's solid, and his arms are around her, and she's crying. She's crying for the first time in months. "I missed you, too," she sniffles, and she wants to be talking to Laios—she does, she swears she does—but she doesn't know who she's speaking to. She doesn't know if it's him or a memory. Her perception is all twisted. And she's looking up, she's checking to be sure, and it's Falin's kindness, painted there, and she's crying harder, and her hands won't stop hitting, but he's holding her softly, and she thinks for a second that it'll be okay, that their friendship will hold like this. She reaches to wipe her tears, and his hands take up this task, too.

It's awkward. It doesn't read of Falin at all. He's lumbersome and ungentle. He's never known what to do, but he does it. He tries. His finger swipes across her cheek again, and her breath stalls. It feels like a betrayal.

Everything else does, too. Every part of it. Yet she's leaning and now he's leaning, too. And it's dreadful. One of his hands still holds hers up to his chest. It feels like such a mockery of intimacy. And they're kissing and it sparks across her skin and roils in her stomach. She can't define sickness from lust. They fall together, onto the couch he kept warm. Onto the cold floor. She cries openly. And she yearns. And she misses. And she can't stop, even if she wants to. Marcielle thought she hated Laios. She knew the only thing she'd ever hated was herself.

And Laios? Laios has never been so hungry. He's never realized how deep his hunger could go. That it could be for something—someone—else. Something like this. It yawns open inside him. Tells him to take. And he's a dog again, fighting for scraps.

He licks at her tears, feels her hands tighten around his arms. Hips canting up as she sobs. It twists inside his stomach, snake-like, and he struggles. "Tell me," Laios groans. "Tell me to stop, Marci." He begs. "Please."

"Falin..." Marcielle croaks. She looks at him and doesn't see her at all. "Falin, I'm sorry..."

And he takes. He takes and takes and takes. And she gives. She allows it. Her consumption. Until there is nothing left.

...because without Falin, there isn't.

[thursdaysyme]

Drew some of my moots pfps on twt and I had a blast I was having a ball. To my moots ily all MWAH

[firestorm09890]

HELP IM LOOKING AT KH ATTACKS AS THEY APPEAR IN DARK ROAD AND IM SOBBING WHYARE THESE GIFS SO FAST

FUCK THIS BLUE RHAPSODY IN PARTICULAR

[ma-serannas-vhenan]

Hey y'all, meet Kida's father

[silversupremacy]

that sounds delightful uwu, your work is great.

I hope healing goes great, for a lack of better wording. you delightfully silly little creature!!!

Treat just for you anon :)

People I Don't Like AMV - storyboard WIPS

It's gonna take a while to finish I think.

[wigglesforonce]

i’m imagining what f1 duo names would be if they were like the ones in myct as a way to entertain myself.

[ritzcuit]

i kind of feared that when i purposefully shifted my mindset away from me being an “anti” that i would instead become a “proshipper” and lose all my friends or something. But there really is a secret third thing called being normal. like no proshipper arguments are still fucking insane ELDKLGJD

like i don’t actually really agree with “if you indulge in dubious content it’s on par with doing that irl”. at the same time i definitely don’t agree with “content moderation is censorship and a slippery slope to fascism” Like what the fuck are you TALKING ABOUT. “Antis and their puritanical moralistic pearlclutching grrr’ ... the people who say that are moralizing their taboo kinks in the other direction! it’s stupid! you’re all stupid!!

“they don’t realize that censorship won’t stop at pedophilia and incest and it’ll become same-sex couples and trans art and and” No bro .... It’s a website .... cohost or pillowfort or inkblot having content moderation is Not going to destroy human rights ... Please..... ao3 is not the last bastion of progressive ideals etc. Like make a fucking neocities site. or something. go on inkbunny. like there are places for your taboo content. And it being treated as taboo is not that absurd.

honestly the one place where they have a point is sites banning nsfw outright and preventing sex workers from having livelihoods, Like, Yeah, That’s upsetting.          but i won’t lie i don’t *really* think companies had like, your bnha omegaverse incest porn in mind when they make those kinds of moves. So like ..... settle