guess who forgot they can post writing on tumblr againnn
anyway this was bribery so stiff would watch rtc HKFHD
(this is part of the sniflins au! idk if it’s canon or not but it takes place in that world! the sniflins is an au by myself, @angeart @loveroped and @stiffyck !)
jimmy can feel scar smiling against his neck, nuzzling closer every so often, and his stomach fills with butterflies. his chest is filled with a fuzzy glow—a wonderful mix of both his own and scar’s happiness. he can no longer tell what emotion belongs to who, and it’s wonderful. under the lazy warmth of the afternoon sun, it’s as if there’s no one else in the world aside from them, and jimmy couldn’t be happier.
that idea is very abruptly disputed, as joel snores loudly from across the picnic blanket. jimmy stifles a laugh, and he can hear scar giggling quietly in his ear (which, for the record, might just be the best sound ever).
both grian and joel fell asleep a good ten minutes ago—grian almost fell face first into a cupcake, and joel dozed off midway through insisting that he was not going to fall asleep at all. scar and he have since concluded that it was the sniffer traits that made them so sleepy in comparison to them, and that they will never let either of them live this down.
“ruins the moment a bit, doesn’t it?” jimmy jokes quietly, if only to hear scar’s laugh again.
scar hums, the sound vibrating against jimmy’s skin. “well, I don’t know. doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”
jimmy feels his face burn in a way that is entirely unrelated to the sun. “oh my gosh.” he buries his head in his hands.
scar is laughing again, sitting up with the sole intention of making jimmy even more flustered, it seems. “oh, but you are! look at you!”
“I will hit you.” jimmy says, muffled through his palms.
“I don’t believe you.” scar teases, sing-song. “you love me too much.”
“I absolutely don’t.” jimmy says. even to his own ears, it sounds laughably false. but right now, he’s proving a point, so.. shut up.
scar presses a kiss to jimmy’s neck, and jimmy feels his face grow impossibly warmer. “oh yeah? now, unless our soulbound broke in the last few seconds, i’m fairly certain you do, sweetheart.”
and- whilst jimmy may not usually be the most forward person in the world, desperate times call for desperate measures. the desperate times in question being his immense flusteredness, and the desperate measures- well..
jimmy takes his hands away from his face, shifts to face scar, grabs his collar and pulls him into a kiss. scar is surprised initially, but melts into it almost immediately—that wonderful glow growing in jimmy’s chest.
and- wow. jimmy somehow manages to forget just how happy scar makes him—not that he’s complaining; it’s something of a fantastic surprise every time he remembers again. like right now, for instance. because scar’s hands are at jimmy’s waist and cupping his cheek, and he’s leaning ever further into the kiss, and jimmy can feel the thin scar that runs through scar’s bottom lips and it’s bliss.
they pull away to catch their breath, giggling breathlessly all the while, and jimmy takes the opportunity for payback. he peppers scar’s face in kisses, delighting as he laughs, and occasionally giving scar’s lips a teasing peck.
“point- point proven!” scar is saying, despite the fact that jimmy has considered stopping at least twice and each time scar whined until he kissed him again.
“mm, no, I don’t think it has.” jimmy grins. “I think I might have to kiss you forever, actually.”
“I mean-“ scar says, and jimmy cackles at the abrupt shift in his tone. “I wouldn’t object, per say-“
“you’re an idiot.” jimmy says, fond as anything. god, he loves this man so much.
scar beams, as if he knows exactly what jimmy is thinking. “I know.”
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☆ the dove
{☆} characters tsaritsa
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings violence, blood
{☆} word count 0.7k
Her hands are weapons, forged in a tragedy as much as a war of ash and blood that seeps into the earth and rots it from within. To them, however, she is salvation. Her hands are a kindness, not a threat. She sees it in their puffy, red eyes just brimming with tears, their fragile body so delicate and weak is still remains marred by wounds new and old – the gold still stains their skin, even long after it had been washed away.
She has seen it all – and she takes the injured dove beneath her wing with the sickly sweet promise that someday she shall mend its broken wings and teach it to fly again.
And in their stupor, they do not see her clip their wings.
It is for the best.
The wolves still salivate below the nest, waiting for her little dove to fall again – no, she shall not send her little bird to fly when it will just fall into their waiting maws once again.
This..this one is hers, she has decided.
Her little bird who dreams of the sky and the woman who clips their wings..what a tragic pair they must make, she thinks.
Not for her, of course. Yet not to them, either, unaware of the way she grounds them and keeps the key to their cage tightly in her fist.
"Tsaritsa?" The soft, meek lilt of the little bird draws her from her reverie, and she smiles – all teeth and little else, wolfish and predatory.
Yet the bird sees nothing but love in the sharp points of her canines.
As it was meant to be.
"Yes, little bird?"
She coos in honeyed tones, brushing her cold, cold hands against their skin, reveling in the way they shiver and shake beneath the ever present chill in her very bones. They do not fear the claws that ghost across their skin, and the smile they offer that illuminates their eyes like stars only proves her right – she wants to devour them whole. To see the stars in their eyes burn out beneath her teeth, their golden blood burn upon her tongue and down her throat.
"You promised to take me to the gardens today, remember?"
Her pearly, sharpened fangs peer out beneath her lips as she grins wider, unnerving to all but the little bird who sees not the wolf but the wool it wears, her hands finding their place upon their shoulders as she whispers into their ear.
She will guide her little bird where they cannot go, where their clipped wings cannot take them.
She will give them that bittersweet taste of freedom and then watch them try to catch the stars..
Just to drag them back down to earth where they belong.
"Of course, Creator – I am a woman of my word, am I not?"
Such sickly sweet lies come to her with ease – she lies and she lies and they do not see past the woolen cloak of the wolf until its jaw has snapped around its throat and its blood has painted the world a shimmering gold.
She will delight in that, too.
"If I may be so bold, Creator, you have been distant lately..have you grown tired of me already?"
Her words were as sharp as a blade, yet as dull as a rock, as sweet as they were dangerous. Like watching a mouse trap luring in its prey, she would snap it shut as soon as the little bird strayed too close.
"No! No, that's not..you've just been busy lately, I didn't want to intrude."
They remind her so much of a rabbit in those moments, and she so badly wants to know what would happen if she just took a small, insignificant bite..yet she restrains herself with a far too wide smile, her jaw clenched so hard she almost thinks they will hear it creak.
"Intrude? You could ever hardly intrude, Creator – what is mine is yours. Though, perhaps I shall have to lock you in my room to ensure you compensate me for depriving me of your presence."
In just a few short words, she snares the rabbit – her little bird, her Creator. They will see nothing but the sickly sweet lure of her smile, letting out a pretty laugh of their own as they press closer, like a bird wandering into the open maw of the beast lying in wait.
"As long as it has a nice view, I suppose I won't mind."
They jest, but she does not. And oh, how easy it is to ensnare an unsuspecting prey.
"Of course, Creator – just for you."
It won't be long until her little bird returns to its gilded cage, now. Permanently.
It is better that way.
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— Calamity Unwritten Masterpost —
Two years ago, Link woke up in a shrine and discovered the world had ended without him. After traveling across Hyrule to try and put the pieces together, he is left with just one memory to recover— How he died. But when a tiny guardian opens a portal through time to the moment he lost, Link finds he might have the chance to change his past. At least, for one version of the world. The life he made is still waiting in the future, and he might not like the person he used to be.
Part 1 - Memories
Part 2 - We meet some friends
Part 3 - Treasured
Part 4 - Speaking with Zelda
Part 5 - Links abound
Part 6 - Personal Problems
Part 7 - Return to Camp
Part 8 - Zelda's Training
— — — — — —
Bonus 1
Bonus 2
Bonus 3 - Notes on Past and Future Link
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more plural saint au stuff!! this time i actually designed their headmates, LOL. anyways info below cut
(the designs above are how they appear in the headspace/how they view themselves in general, but its very hard to notice them when youre actually looking at saint from the outside. enot is the only slugcat who can immediately spot the difference, however.)
the observer is more of a keen person, judging and well, making observations around their enviorment. very strategic. avoids lizard attacks very quickly. theyre the cohost of the system, probably because of their abilities in things. hes very persistent on following the rules, and will be harsh when said rules are broken.
the guardian is able to use spears and hit them with somewhat of a normal damage. saint is against this though and requests that she doesnt do it. the guardian dislikes this, but do it at the request of saint anyways. unless its an emergency of course, and they really are in danger) they are a bit more clumsy than observer, and would trip everynow and then. but are able to communicate with beings easily.
saint is easily stressed and overwhelmed, so those two come out alot of the times. they are trying their best, though please be kind to them :) they might also split more... Oops.
main inspos: moths, butterflies, space, the moon & sun, total solar eclipse
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