A normal day at Ramshackle coincided with keeping Grim from getting into a fight with some guy 5 times his height, trying to keep the Adeuce duo from creating an explosion in half the class, and trying to keep some wood from falling on their heads. That afternoon Crewel and the other teachers had some compassionate impulse and didn't leave much homework, leaving free time for our unruly quartet, the Adeuces brought the TV and the popcorn, and the prefect set the place (the Ramshackle room of course). Each one settling into the squeaky old armchairs and snuggling up to their friend without magic the Twisted Wonderland pop culture, when the movie was over and so were the snacks, the boys had to leave before they got off their heads (and had to put up two more around here). Our protagonist yawning a little went to do their daily chores, sweeping, cleaning, washing the dishes and seeing what needed to be bought for dinner that same day, lacking some ingredients they headed to Sam's shop, while Grim fortunately curled up in one of the armchairs very faithful to his cat counterpart, the sight of orange and purple colors painted the landscape of such an afternoon as the prefect walked by muscle memory to their destination, buying with just enough money their things and with miserably light bags returning to what they could currently call “home”.
On the way as they dissociated a bit they encountered a somewhat unusual person they remembered seeing once.
– If it is... Yuu-san! – The robot boy greeted, with his usual enthusiasm, the tinkling of his voice adorning the afternoon strangely beautifully.
– Oh, Idia's little brother... – Didn't they say he was rarely without him? – What a surprise to see you – They looked at the bag they was carrying in their hands, having the impulse to perhaps hide the pitiful amount of groceries they had bought - What are you doing in these parts? I think it's one of the few times I've seen you without your older brother.
– Actually, I was picking up some homework assigned to Nii-san, Professor Trein apparently wasn't in the mood and didn't want to hand in the aforementioned homework online.
– Imagining a somewhat stunned Idia brought out a hint of a smile, something they weren't going to openly show (or try to show) because of how reactive one of the few encounters they had with the robot was - Anyways, it was nice to see you – They smiled genuinely – it's getting late... so I should be going... bye! – Noticing the dead conversation they had no choice but to take a small escape, hoping inwardly that he would understand their interacting with his less social older brother.
– Until next time, Yuu-san! – The robot bid farewell to the prefect's finished social battery, or simply decided that remarking on the detail was not substantial this time.
At a brisk pace they returned to their temporary home, they with a face perhaps scowling at the painfully hurried retreat as they closed the door hearing a creak that the next day they would not like at all, but at that moment they had no head to worry about it, passing through the spacious living room she sat on one of the sofas in front of Grim and just thought.
With the fingertips of their hands outstretched, their elbows on their thighs and with a worried face, or maybe just a thoughtful one, they pondered. They pondered why their face seemed to heat up a bit, they pondered why they were so nervous about the encounter and they pondered why they took such a cowardly flight when conversation was a normal thing between two college students.
They give a heavy sigh, it was hard to face such a strangely dense fog of emotions, especially when you know what will be in there.
Especially when you know you're not going to like it.
Especially when you know it's impossible.
Especially when you know it's strange to think about.
Especially when you know it's illogical.
Especially when you know it's weird.
It's painful to sacrifice your pride to get to the center of all that fog, isn't it?
Think
Think again
One more time
Coming to a realization that made everything heavier but lighter at the same time.
– Oh fuck, that boy is cute.
– What did you say, henchman? – A sleepy cat faces you, having apparently learned the habit you had of meddling in other people's business.
– That I need to make dinner.
I WROTE THE THING
I'm sorry if this is something very light, honestly I'm used to reading much longer things but
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, THIS WRITING IS SO HARD
I don't have a very clear direction with this idea, please take that into account
I've been writing something since 2020
Let's say this is the second time I've written a fic
Oh right, If you come here to complain let me tell you that I won't even respond to you and I will just block you, I don't have the energy to be fighting with people and your complaint is not going to make me stop liking Ortho or anything I like, don't waste your time
Imagine confessing everything that you’ve done wrong to Homelander. Just little things and things that just upset you personally that you feel guilt and shame over.
He is your god after all.
And then he just forgives you, holding you close, playing with your hair, and reassuring you that you are his favorite lamb. His most beloved follower.
The sounds of gunshots could be heard as the game progressed, a simple game of hot zone. A smile spread across M/N's lips as the timer went down and once it hit zero the golden words, ‘VICTORY’ splayed across the screen.
“GG, That was easy.” One of his friends spoke, as the MVP of the group was displayed to be M/N himself, “Man, how did you get the MVP!? You only have one more kill than me.” He complained into M/N's headphones as he laughed since this was the third time in a row he gained MVP of the matches they played.
“I'm just good like that, plus I know how to kill those annoying sliders.” M/N bragged as he set his controller down and picked up his phone which had his friends from the map in a group call.
“The only reason you got so many kills was because most of them were because the enemy was focused on killing one of us. You only cleared out a group by yourself like twice.” Your other friend spoke as she left the game as well.
“Yeah, you were too scared to even be first up, when we played the first round.” Another voice chimed in with a cackle. A few voices agreed with his statement.
“Well, that's because I started later than all of you, plus I didn't know the map that well. But I got used to it.” M/N speaks in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone as he powers off his television and puts his controller away. Moving to his bed with his phone in hand to continue chatting with his friends.
“Excuses, excuses, man you were scared as hell just admit it.” Sounded the female friend once again as she yawned.
“I was not scared!” M/N spoke defensively.
“How about this,” his friend spoke up as he took a bite out of something on his end, “Go into the woods, and pick up four different things from both the wooded part and that water then come and show us tomorrow.”
This made M/N freeze, people were forbidden from going into the woods unless they had a license, or a big sixteen-wheeler carrying goods to and from the town. But it was a gab at his pride and he knew they wouldn't let it go if he denied it.
“When do you want me to go?” M/N asked as he sat up from his lying position on the bed.
“Right now.” The voice chimed in again, M/N could hear the smirk on his face as he spoke.
They all knew that it was dangerous to leave when it was so close to the night. There were multiple missing person alerts anytime someone was out alone when the sunset. But again, this was a jab at his pride so, he stood up from his bed, and moved to put some shoes on and a jacket.
“Bet.” And that was all he said in reply before hanging up the call.
_____________________
Next up: M/N finds himself standing in front of the looming trees as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He even thought about just picking up a few rocks, leaves, and sticks from the lark and just calling it a day, but he knew that wouldn't work.
Click the next up.
So once again he breathes deep, feeling the cool fall air swim through his lungs and back out again, as he takes the first step into the woods.
Meg idk if you're ok with this but if not please feel free to ignore BUT BAHFHJAHDHDH CAN I PLEASE ASK FOR RUFOUS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS? If that's ok??
💳💥💳💥💳💳💥💥💥💥💳
FDSHFDGJHDFHDFH I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING BUT SURE <3 [Apologies for the incredibly long wait and the formatting, tumblr is being an ass-]
Rufous Tavros Relationship Headcanons
If you want this bull in your life, you're going to have to make an effort. Rufous doesn't tolerate many people, and really doesn't care to meet new ones, so you'll have to make a lot of the first moves.
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That said, ask him about the buildings on campus! He LOVES architecture, and, while surprised at first, will happily ramble about the different styles and building techniques until he realizes you're still there.
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Then he'll get very embarrassed and yell at you to forget this ever happened, while turning as red as his name~
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Don't let this scare you off though, he's just shy about his non-jock interests. Keep spending time with him, and you'll see that Rufous is actually quite a softie under all his anger issues and scary demeanor-
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His older sister Jaxeris is one of his favorite people in the world, so once he's comfortable with you, prepare to hear a lot about her and conversations they've had.
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Dates with Rufous are mostly casual hangout type of affairs, like studying or going to a cafe. If you want to do something more exciting or fancy, the later in the day the better! He's much more active and engaged as night falls.
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If your hair is long enough, he'll braid or style it for you if you ask! Complicated stuff is a bit tough for him to figure out, but Rufous is a master at the simple things and basics; you won't get a better french braid anywhere else!
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He doesn't do PDA, so the closest thing you'll get is him fixing your hair for you in the hall or after gym.
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Now, in private, he is literally so sweet. In the extremely likely event that you're shorter than him, he loves just picking you up and carrying you around for funzies and to show off a bit. He loves having you close to him and having you rely on him for things.
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You WILL end up with a special nickname that he only calls you when you're alone, and he WILL blush every time he says it.
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In short, please get to know Rufous, I can guarantee you'll both be very happy with the outcome <3
Yes, it is late, but I'm going to drop some writing I've done for my Obey Me OC, Sin! Just a sort of peek at what she's like and what ideas I have for her--
The Demon King was astonished by Sin's words. "You're giving up your dominion over the Seven Deadly Sins? But no demon has been born since Barbatos who could withstand that power alone!"
"Then I will divide it among seven. I have had enough of power and ruling. I simply wish to rest and enjoy my eternity." Sin stifled a yawn, the purple glow of Sloth emanating from one of the five eyes on her forehead. It seemed like an eternity passed before the Demon King spoke again.
"You do know that we'll have to restrict you in some capacity, don't you? Even without the Deadly Sins, your mere presence in the human world would still be enough to drive them to debauchery of all kinds." Sin smiled. A slow, lazy smile that crept across her face like a spider.
"I suppose that is a fair price for shirking my duties. If there is nothing else Your Majesty wishes to address, I will take my leave."
"Just one thing: Who will you give the Deadly Sins to?"
"When a proper Avatar rises, I will know. Until that time, I will continue serving as your Lady of Sin."
You Will Always Be Mine - a FNAF movie fic centering around Vanessa.
Vanessa has always lived in a world that smells of rot. As her father slips into madness, she must face the truths she was raised to ignore. The Afton family legacy was built on blood, sweat, and tears
but maybe it was just blood all along.
AKA How did Vanessa become Vanessa? How did William Afton become William Afton? How did the Afton family fall so far from grace?
At the grand age of 16 when she should’ve been riding around in cars with boys and parading around with her friends down the center of the mall, but she was truly here. In this place, trapped. This was her life. Maybe forever.
And she didn’t want it to end.
Her hands were red, her smock too. Good old Dad had been busy today alright. Her hands had become raw over the days, weeks and months of the strenuous job which was her life. Soap and water had run through her hands at least a dozen times a day but the red never seemed to be truly gone, it stuck to the places between her fingers and tattooed itself to her palms.
It looked thicker today, heavier.
It was summer and the blazing day outside bled inside the stuffy insides of her father’s building. The smell was pungent, it clung to her clothes like rotting meat and moldy cheese, the type you would scrap off the bottom of a trash barrel. Except, she was never scrapping food off the sink, it clung, it was red, mixed with stringy tissue.
The stink crawled down her throat, scratching its way up little by little until she had to bite back bile.
And sometimes she wondered if one day, someone else would be scraping it off the sink. If someone would be as good as her, as diligent as her, as much of a purpose to him. The idea sunk a hook into her ribs, sharp and cruel.
The girl kept her eyes trained on the bottom of the sink, her bare nails scratching desperately at a piece of meat that refused to let go. Let go. It was a phrase that was said every other day in a meaningless manner. They truly didn’t understand the weight of “Let go”.
The pink water glared up at her accusingly. Her fingers clenched and something was tugging at her chest like a chain. The tugging of a desperate soul or souls that screamed from down below. She blinked as she stared down at the tiled floor: black and white.
White and the blackness that swallowed it whole. A maw of darkness beckoned her forward, down, down, and down.
Down. Pain streaked up her arm and only then when she glanced down did she realize hot red was bleeding from her palm, her jagged unruly nails digging deep into the skin. A wave of something took over her. Frustration, pain, a mixture. The sort of unbearable fire that ate away at your skin until your nerves were nothing but ash. Her twitching hands finally slammed into the side of the hard sink and she let out a wince.
Her hand throbbed uncontrollably. The bones didn’t feel quite right. Gasping and shuddering, Vanessa clung to the edge of the metal sink and sunk to her knees.
Eating, eating, eating. Eat it all away.
The drain gurgled in protest as the pink water washed down the drain, down to the clogged gutters and to the sickly ground below. When will enough be enough? It wouldn’t. She knew this but she couldn’t help but hope.
Vanessa used to pray a long time ago. She remembered the feeling of the stiff plush of the kneeler pressing on her knees, soft yet insistent. And then she thought she understood the words being spoken to her. The pastor’s bald head always shone under the skylights and when her mind would wander as a young child she used to fixate on it. The older folks around them were quiet, obedient with heads bowed and rather boring. Every once in a while she would catch snatches of gossip here and there lingering in the air, hanging between the older ladies especially.
Her Dad was kneeled next to her, head bowed just the same as the others, his hands clasped atop the pew, a rosary clenched in his fists. Vanny desperately wanted to hold it, ever since she had first set eyes on it, it shined and glimmered with delicate beads strung along its fine chain.
“The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. So the Lord said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the land, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the heavens, for I am sorry that I have made them.”
She didn’t understand his words.
The pastor finally spread his arms once the mass had ended, once they had drunk the blood and eaten the body of Christ as was decreed by the old. His voice was soft, mellow and a blessing upon Vanny’s strained ears, “The confessional booth will be open from 7pm to 9pm tonight if anyone needs a listening ear.” The pastor smiled with his mouth closed, gently and gave a bow to the crowd.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works