Aug 6
i was just trying to change date format on AO3 and learnt that, in a very satisfying way, my user ID number is 52052
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i was just trying to change date format on AO3 and learnt that, in a very satisfying way, my user ID number is 52052
for @drarrymicrofic's february 2024 prompt: micro
“love, please turn off the lamp.” harry raises his head to look at his husband, bent over the corner desk of their room, hook on one hand and thread on the other.
“just one last square, potter,” draco mutters. harry highly doubts that, sighing. draco probably didn’t even register his question and only gave the automatic reply. he just wanted a nice night cuddling with draco, but apparently not. rose’s blanket is so much more important than giving harry attention.
he sighs again, a heavier one for more dramatics. he’s putting on his pout, fiddling with the blankets that draco also crocheted, although it took way less time because he wasn’t obsessed with microcrocheting of all things at that time. “you’re making a face.” harry hears draco say, almost in a whine, as he raises his gaze.
the blond is twisted around in his chair and wearing his own pout. there’s a fond look behind it, though. harry inwardly cheers, a smile overtaking his put-on sulk.
🌔 ~ fluff 🌕 ~ sfw 🌖 ~ angst 🌘 ~ nsfw 💫 ~ one shot ✨ ~ ongoing
Dr. Stone:
Tsukasa Drabble: Lifeguard 🌘 💫
Food Wars:
Ryo Kurokiba Thirst 🌘💫
Hunter x Hunter:
Happy Birthday Hisoka 🌘💫
Scarlet Moonlight: Touya x Reader Fairy Tale AU
Here's my contribution to the Citrus Dome Fairy Tale Collab. This one is loosely based on Red Riding Hood, only darker? It was hella fun! As usual I added a playlist to go with this ❤️it'll be below the cut. Accompanying art will be added soon as well! Hope you don't hate it?🙃
Buutttt even if you do please check out the other pieces that are a part of the collab here. 💜
p.s. big huge massive love to @sweet-darling91 for encouraging me and keeping me focused. ily. 😩
NSFW/ Minors DNI
Characters: Lycan Touya (pre fullmoon) x F!Reader
CW/TW: alcohol use, violence, angst, description of attempted noncon, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, semi public sex
WC: 6k
early morning visits
pairing: originally platonic shoto todoroki x reader, but it could go either way. word count: 1.9k warnings: none, except my own cursing? a/n: i was reading through the fluff prompts list earlier and i saw the prompt “i’m bad at texting first, so i always end up hoping you will.” and thought it would go along well with todoroki's social awkwardness. enjoy! fuck you endeavor.
Drabble #2
“Never has there been such a landslide election, you know. Well, not for mayor at least. Getting the guards, the merchants, and even most of the mages to vote for one candidate is impressive!”
“But papa, everyone loves him! Why wouldn’t people vote for him?”
“Ah, my kitten, you ask the best questions. Some people don’t trust him. Others dislike authority in general. Some don’t vote at all. I couldn’t begin to give all the true answers, but I think you understand.” He smiles down at his eldest child, running his fingers through her grey and black hair to elicit a happy purr.
Contemplating all this, the child’s tail flicks excitedly. They’re ten years old now, enough to be included in discussions of politics, though inexperienced in the myriad reasons why things are how they are. “Okay, I think I understand. Some people are just…they go against the grain for one reason or another, but some people don’t think he’s right, or good, what do they see that others don’t?”
“Another excellent question! I would think, for some, they expect him to tax them more, or make laws that will lessen their profits. Mostly monetary reasons, I’d wager. Of course there are those who are evil, or maybe just bad, but either way a strong force for good goes against their principles. Those are the ones you should stay away from.”
Tabitha nods, closing their eyes to imagine all sorts of sinister beings who would hate a good mayor. Sighing softly, they shake their head and frown. “People like that are strange, Papa. Doesn’t going against the common good just hurt everyone, including themselves?”
“Well yes, but ‘common good’ is too broad a term for a city. Even among us, some things that benefit most do not benefit all. Suppose you can’t afford to help everyone, how do you choose not to help?” He scratches under their chin, coaxing forth a deeper purr.
“Well, I suppose…you help the people you like best? Or do the thing that helps the most people?”
They open their eyes, staring up at their father. This is a tricky line of thinking, and it makes them wish they could snap their fingers and help everyone. Even the greatest mages can’t do that, though. Some had tried of course.
“Right, but there are those who would not be helped, and they’re some of the ones who would vote for someone else, yes? If this mayor saw us as a threat, maybe because we’re better at some trade than those he is friends with, he would help those friends and that would hurt us. Not intentionally exactly, he just wants his friends to succeed and his help is unequal. Is that bad, or good? There isn’t always a right answer.”
This revelation was not what Tabitha expected at all. Not always a right answer? Their eyes settle closed again, tail calming as their thoughts swirl about like the ingredients in a soup their mother is cooking. Surely doing something that hinders someone is bad, it has to be. And yet…if it helps someone else, and isn’t done with malice, then can it be seen as bad, as wrong? “This makes my head hurt, Papa. Why is the world so complicated?”
Laughter fills the house. “Yes, I suppose it is hard to piece together! That’s just how things are, Tabi. You’re a bright child though, you’ll find your own truth. That’s all we can do some days, is to understand what is right and good for us, and act upon it. I could be out there, working to make money right now, but we don’t need the coin, see? Spending my time with you this afternoon is a better solution. Helping you grow and learn, and be a strong member of the tribe.”
“That’s right! I’ll grow up and be strong so I can work hard and you don’t have to!” Tabi sits up in their father’s lap to flex their arms as their tail again flicks with excitement.
“Oho, and look at you already! Such a strong young dazh! You make us proud, I hope you know. Not just your mother and I, but the whole tribe, with your sense of self. Not so many dazh when we live in the cities, with the other races.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, despite the praise.
Tabi notices.
“Why not?” Their voice is quieter, measured now.
“Well, dazh are not seen in other races. Sure, the dwarves don’t have any genders, and the elves are infuriatingly difficult to figure out sometimes, but we’re the only race that has something like you. A person who chooses not to be a man or a woman. I do sometimes wish we had picked a different name, because of it.”
“But I like my name!” Tabitha pouts, crossing their arms and narrowing their eyes.
“Oh yes, it’s a wonderful name! It is just…well, we got it from a human woman, you see? And it is a name that implies feminine. People will assume you’re a woman because of it.” His hands thread through their hair again as he leans down to kiss their forehead.
“I don’t mind, Papa. It’s the name you and Mama gave me, and it’ll always be special because of that. Besides, Tabi isn’t really that, um, girly is it?” They purr loudly, leaning up to nuzzle against their father’s chin as their arms snake around his neck to hug him tightly.
“No, I don’t think it is. Not very masculine, but I wouldn’t say it’s especially feminine either.” He rubs up and down their back with a soft sigh, so glad to have a child so willing to be themself. “I fear you will find struggles in your life because of this, but I love that this is who you are. Maybe you inspire others in the tribe to look inside and see their true nature as well. A role model for other dazh.”
“You think so, Papa? That other kids will be dazh because of me?” Their eyes light up with wonder, golden and shining like a newly minted coin.
“Of course they will, Tabi. Maybe only one or two, but for them to see that dazh are real and treasured, that will be all the proof they need. Now, let’s go down stairs and help your mother cook, hmm? A strong member of the tribe helps with chores too!” He scoops Tabi up, cradling them in his arms and blowing a raspberry on their shoulder as they squeal and wriggle to get free.
“Okaaaaaay!” They shout between fits of giggles, the politics of the day long forgotten.
because I’m a dumbass who likes mccool as a guilty pleasure I wrote a thing
I’ve been through thousands, nay millions, of Masters. There were only two that accepted me, however. One was the head of the Yggdmillennia clan, during the Third Grail War. The War had of course ended in a stalemate, he escaped with the Grail and was never seen again.
2016 arrives, a mass summoning at the facility Chaldea occurs. People are clamoring for the tragic daughter of Odin or the first Berserker of old, using whatever means they can to get them. Nobody even batted an eye at my being there. Odin’s daughter, she was fickle. Rather than waste time with Masters who only valued her for how unobtainable she was, she would instead send me in her place.
I thought it would be fine. At least they would have a Lancer to aid them. However, it didn’t work that way. Oh they were furious. Some simply locked me away, others threw me into a raging fire and melted me into materials. I can still feel the flames licking my skin, devouring my Spirit Core. It was painful, reminiscent of the spear I had used to keep myself conscious when the Burner approached Tara all those years ago, but this... This was worse. I could feel their hatred, their frustration as they watched me burn. As my short-lived servitude came to an end and I would lose consciousness to find myself back in the Throne of Heroes, I would hear them lament how much materials they had gathered, or hearing the voice of him screaming why. Why, why, why? Why would you do this? I would never be able to hear their response. I’d already succumbed to the pain by the time they would answer.
I had gotten used to it. I had become used to the animosity, the tired frustration. I had grown oddly adjusted to being imprisoned, to being burned. It didn’t even hurt to hear their ranting, his pleading cries for them to stop. It was all just the every day. Now yes, I am a Heroic Spirit. Once I return to the Throne of Heroes, I return without scars. However, because of the Chaldea Summoning System, my memory remains, and I can easily recall the angry faces, the shouting, him... And yet, I’m used to it. It’s become so common when I’m summoned, that it barely even phases me anymore. The first time had been a rude awakening. A fluke, I’d assumed. The next time would be better. There wasn’t one for so long. There was some of the kind Masters who did admire me for my talents, or adored me for whatever reason. A brief respite from all the ones enraged by my presence. But I can’t remember their faces, their voices, not even their names. The ones who hated me, made me feel ashamed to even show my face, stuck to me far more than the ones who showed mercy.
But you, my current Master. You are by far the most perplexing Master I’ve had. Caster, da Vinci, she told me who you are, what you are. You’re related to him, from your father’s side of the family. You even changed your last name to reflect this, to provide him some form of comfort. You adore him in a familial sense, you take care of him, you’ve treated him kindly and defended his honor from those who tried to discredit or disgrace him.
I had braced myself for the anger when I was called upon. It was just so common at this point, what’s one more time? But there was no anger, no lamentation on “wasted resources”. None of it, you did something incredibly strange.
You laughed. You laughed out loud for quite a while, laughed like you’d heard the funniest joke on Earth. I was stunned, to say the least. It’d been a long time since I’d heard someone laugh. It was so foreign to me I almost thought I was hallucinating. And once you’d calmed down, I was met with simple annoyance. No hint of anger, no sign of frustration. I did see him out of the corner of my eye, but he was guarded by another spearman clad in blue and a fierce glare etched on his handsome face.
You set me straight to work, not bothering with Embers or anything. You sent me straight to the storybook singularity that was Shinjuku. You were harsh but not unreasonable. You’d sent the dragon-slaying Rider with me, and all was well and good. It kept going and going - so close I would come to dying, losing myself in combat, yet we would prevail.
You took time to get to know me. You’d read my legends, you’d researched my son and heard of the tragedy that befell his mother. You’d heard of my treatment of him, how I let him die because of my ego. You’d heard of Gráinne and how angry she’d been with me after his death. But your rage wasn’t directed at me, not for the most part. I was bewildered. Most who came to know of his demise came to despise me. Rarely ever was there someone who acknowledged that while I had done wrong, I had not been the instigator of that horrible spiral of events. That while I had proposed to her, I had actually been lucky. That he had endured mistreatment, physical and sexual assault, and that I could have been the one receiving this.
It was only after the assault on the Shinjuku Assassin’s ball that I had come to realize that I perhaps haven’t been grateful. Perhaps I had made errors in my past that could not be forgiven...that I should have realized sooner that the error was not on some external force or somebody else, but myself. The reason behind all my troubles with women was my own hubris, my follies. That his death was...
So why? Why, why, why?? You out of all of them should be the one to hate me the most! You did not become angry when I appeared before you, you simply laughed! You did not lock me up or burn my Saint Graph, you put me to work in Shinjuku with Rider! You listened to me, spoke with me, was more patient with me than the other Masters I’ve had! Why, son of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, why do you out of all my Masters forgive me?!
They were leaving.
After an uncomfortably long time, he reached up, the clawed ends of his gloves showing up over the white of the mask and Sombra flinched - she'd berate herself for it later - but he reached towards himself, and for the rare time since he had donned the getup - she saw his face. Reaper was scarred, both wounds he had gained back when he had skin and the lack of that solid form bleeding into his face. It made him hard, harsh, sharp, and the redness in his eyes - a nearly supernatural glow - didn't help the image. She was suspicious, to say the least, and she was more than ready now to go for her gun and go for the sprinklers and the emergency fire doors that were just a few meters behind them. Maybe she could toss Widow behind them before he killed them both. But something was different in his face - the murderous intent that she had seen the few times she had come to regard his humanity, what of it he had left, wasn't there. It was like he was looking at a child, at a friend, at an innocent. Sombra was anything but those three things, and yet somehow she felt young for a moment, for all of her hellish years on this earth, for all of her trials, for all of her pain, she felt young under the gaze of the Reaper. "Go." It took her a full thirty seconds to process the word, spoken in a voice that she had never heard before, the grit and gravel missing, the rage and fury gone, the pain and seething ache lacking. He sounded... human. "Re-" Sombra paused, staring him down, and said something she should not have: "Gabriel?" She thought, again, that she was going to die today, under the body of her re-kidnapped girlfriend. "Take her and go." The pain was back, but his voice was still soft, still human, still pleasant on the ear. "Save her from this." He dissolved, the humanity in his face finally breaking, the effort to show her Gabriel Reyes too much, and the pure white mask was back in place before she saw more than three eyes and forty teeth whirling into a mess of black and red and death. Sombra did not look back, but she felt the gaze of the Reaper burning into her back the whole way down the maintenance tunnel. She did not think she would soon forget it.