23, fanfic and multiship sideblog. Used to be at starrosefics. Loves cats and chocolate and accepts SFW prompts. Requests are OPEN, I will deny if uncomfortable. Check my Fandoms page to see what I write for.
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Not the nda anon, but combining the nda au with the first prompts 1 and 7, ough.
Not to dictate an idea, but Red and Purple walking out after they just defied MIRA of all things, and Red is TERRIFIED if what they just did, this'll probably get them killed but all those thoughts are immediately shut up and replaced with fuzzier ones the moment their lips connect, and cuz Red's a little simping chud they immediately melt into it
1. where both are breathless from the kisses
7. kissing and realizing that this is the person that they love and smiling because they know that the person loves them back just as much
canon-divergent • interns era, post-reactor disaster • nda au
They're dead.
They are going to die.
They are two dead Crewmates walking, somehow with their heads still intact, but who knows for how long and for how much and this was bad, this was very, very bad.
(But it was bad. They never should have left two interns to manage that colony on their own. It's a miracle no one is dead.)
Except them. They're dead. MIRA will not let them leave this building alive. Red is sure of it.
"Purps," Red can't even look at them. But if they're going to die, MIRA's gonna have to try damn hard to get both of them. "Purps, I know I screwed up. They probably have security or, I don't know, a tank down there waiting for us. But maybe if you go back, they won't—"
Red can't bear the weight of both of them, not like this, not with Purple fisting their collar, mouth hot on theirs.
Of course they fall over.
"Don't you dare tell me to go back." Purple hisses, wet under the visor, still clutching at Red's shirt. "Not when you— You— You stood up for me."
Purple is heavy. Their mouth is wet and now Red knows what it tastes like, like salt and pizza crust flour. It's a Sunday, a colony has blown up under their watch at the tail-end of their internship, they just told the CEO of the largest corporation in the galaxy to suck it, and now they know just how soft their best friend's mouth can be on the inside.
"Of course I did." Red says, dazed. "Purps and Redsy to the end, right?"
Purple makes a sound that goes straight to the bone and kisses them again. It's better this time. There shouldn't be an option for it to get better.
"They could have killed you." Purple hauls them to their feet. They're smiling. Their mouth is damp and dark, visor fogged up at the edges, and they're smiling. "You told Pink they could shove their NDA up their ass. Pink."
"Well, yeah." Purple keeps bumping their visor against theirs. It's distracting. Someone must have messed with O2. It's the only thing that makes sense about this. "We're in this together."
"We are." Purple says, a little awestruck. They should go, now, right now, before whoever Pink sent after them catches up.
Purple kisses them again. It would be a kiss, if Purple didn't laugh so much, bright and bubbly and helpless, dragging Red down the hall.
"We're in this together." Purple kisses them again. And again and again and again, on every other step. They're gonna fall down the stairs. There are a lot of stairs. And Purple keeps pulling them in, half off the next flight, trusting far too much in Red's capacity to catch them.
"We're really in this together." Purple sighs. Purple does not sigh. Purple does not look at Red like this, dreamily and, dare they say, swooning, mouth kiss-sore and smiling.
Who cares about Pink. Who cares about MIRA. Red would tell Pink to go kick rocks in the Fungle if it meant Purple looking at them like this.
"Purps and Redsy."
Purple grins at them. There are still a lot of stairs to go.
"Izuku, are you almost ready?" Tenya called over his shoulder. His gaze was firm on the mirror, his fingers working the tie confidently. "It's polite to be early!"
Upstairs, his partner called down, "I'm almost ready!"
"In an actual suit?"
"Yes!"
Tenya didn't bother to ask if it was like All-Might's eye-searing banana suit. It probably was. It could be worse- the first few Hero Banquets, Izuku had tried to attend in a shirt that just said suit. He loved him, he did, but he tested his patience sometimes.
Footsteps hurried down the stairs. "I'm ready!" Izuku said. "Except…"
Tenya didn't even need to turn. He did, though.
"Izuku, you know how to tie a tie."
Izuku smiled innocently back, offering up the elegant green tie that complimented his eyes. Tenya sighed and accepted the tie. He couldn't even be annoyed.
Tying Izuku's tie helped him, somewhat.
Their job was so dangerous. Losing One for All had increased the risk for Izuku, even with all of the training and tools he had developed and learned. There had been multiple times that Tenya was afraid for his partner, his hero partner…his friend.
As he tied his tie, he could feel him breath. Izuku smiled gently up at him. His green eyes was warm and bright and so alive.
Tenya lingered and cupped his face. "I love you."
"I love you too," Izuku squeezed his hand. "Now, you ready to win the hero rankings?"
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PPT prompt idea: What if: The Prototype takes big offence to Angel electrocuting Theo Catnap thus revealing himself.
He had saved him, again.
CatNap watched as his god descended from the trapdoor, his golden eyes focused on the intruder, the so-called angel. His body hurt, but he ignored the pain.
A gentle hand pressed against his head.
"Rest, my friend. I shall protect you."
My friend? How long had it been since he was called that?
CatNap let his eyes slide shut as a horrified scream echoed off the walls.
Ultimate Shadow Milk decides to warn an alternate Shadow Milk about Truthless Recluse. Shadow Milk struggles with the idea.
Pure Vanilla finds their plan in danger
It was late.
Or not. The Spire never truly adhered to any one clock. It could have been in the middle of the day, or it could have been the end times. For every person, it was seemingly different and nobody was sure. But for Shadow Milk, it was late.
He was in his bedroom, smelling faintly of vanilla and jasmine. with a tinge of something sweetly sour. He had indulged himself with a nice bubble bath, with a good book and some wine, and was now brushing out his hair in front of his vanity.
For once, the Fount let down his walls.
Normally, he would cover his body in something tight instead of the loose robe, would hiss and spit at the sight of stars in his hair instead of his usual eyes, would break the mirror at the sight of one gold eye staring out, but he bit back the urge. Instead, a dreamy smile spread across his face as he brushed through his hair. He was too content to feel his usual fury.
The source of his good mood, his bliss, his happiness, was in his own room.
Truthless Recluse. Pure Vanilla. His Nilly.
His. His alone!
The Fount had no idea how quickly he would fall for the little shepherdess who claimed the other half of his soul jam. He had been furious at first, at the gall of the witches to give away one half of his soul, but it was lonely inside the tree. And, well, Pure Vanilla, even with her own silly insistence on clinging to the truth, even as she made herself the biggest liar, was so easy to love. She was almost every inch of the equal he had prayed for so long ago.
And then, she was perfected. Molded.
Into Truthless Recluse!
He had shed his queenly white for dark navy, perfect to match Shadow Milk. His kind light he dimmed and suffocated for the shadows of doubt, the feeling that allowed deceit to fester. He had told them that they were meant to be together, had banished his little friends from the Spire. He had promised that they would be together, forever.
Forever.
The Fount felt his face warm, and he couldn't help but giggle. His minions would surely balk at the sight of him acting like an infatuated schoolgirl, but they weren't here. They didn't matter! What did matter was his Nilly!
He couldn't help himself. He was too jittery, too excited. He set down his hairbrush and moved to the center of the room. With a wave of his hand, an invisible band started to play.
Unlike his usual preferences, grand waltzes and orchestral pieces that left the players exhausted from the physical effort of playing, a soft song began to play. It was a song perfect for a romantic scene, alone in the moonlight.
He could imagine the two of them walking together in Pure Vanilla's garden, the lilies- no, no, absolutely not, the milkcrowns, there, better, the milkcrowns shining in the moonlight. In his mind, they stopped in a grassy area, with the moonlight as a spotlight.
Truthless Recluse offered his hand.
The Fount took it.
It was funny to imagine his Nilly leading the dance. He was smaller than him, barely reaching his shoulder without his dumb hat. Still, he allowed it.
In his imagination, the two danced under the moonlight. He held hands with him, one hand on his shoulder, practically feeling the weight on his hand on his hip. His Nilly was so strong, so perhaps he would lift him, just as a surprise. He laughed at the thought.
He could imagine taking control, could imagine his Nilly's surprised yelp as he dipped them. Perhaps, he would laugh, giddy and relieved at the feeling of being free.
The Fount had laughed himself sick when he finally let go of his role, of his mo- the witches' plans for him. It had been like a shard of glass that he insisted on holding onto, for some reason, ignoring the jam that welled up as the edges dug into his dough. How relieving it was when he finally dropped it!
Their wounds probably matched. They could heal them together.
So lost in his fantasy, he almost didn't notice the crackle of energy, nor the smell of milk, left so long over the stove that it scalded and burned, drowning out the vanilla.
"He's lying to you, you know."
Shadow Milk blinked, and reality crashed in.
Or… unreality?
He stared at himself.
At least, the figure looked like him. If you ignored the giant claws, one arm glowing with magic that had Pure Vanilla's color scheme… and the eyes. Dozens of them, all flicking about. Three of them looked eerily familiar, all focusing on him.
"…What are you?"
"He's lying to you," the Other Him said, his tone full of emotion. It was either barely-contained seething rage or tears, it was hard to tell.
"Who?" What was this? It didn't feel like the Spire, and its time shenanigans. The world seemed to ripple strangely around the Other Him, as if he had ripped something open and the fabric of reality was trying to stitch it back close.
The Other Him stepped forward, close enough that the smell of burning milk almost made him cough. "Truthless Recluse."
Oh. "Of course he's a liar. He's always been one. He's finally being honest with himself about it, thanks to me."
The Other Him shook his head. "No, he hasn't. He's still lying, and he's using your emotions to manipulate you." His claws clenched, and his teeth were bared in a sharp, furious grin. "I thought the world of him, of my Nilly, and what did he do?" His form flickered, and Shadow Milk laughed.
He couldn't help it.
"You are… wildly unstable," he said, cocking his head and studying the way that his form flickered, how reality seemed to break, slightly, around him. "Both physically and mentally."
"I'm FiNe-!"
Other Him's voice broke and glitched and sputtered. One second, it sounded like his voice, another it sounded too much like the Fount, and the next it sounded strangely young. He found himself taking a step or two back.
And then, it stopped.
Just for a moment, probably.
Other Him straightened up. He looked like him with all of his spells on, his eyes crackling with fury. "He's lying to you. He'll tell you that he wants to be together forever. The next thing you know, he'll stab you in the back and use you to gain more power." He leaned forward, their noses almost touching. "Just like he did me."
Something in his chest squeezed.
There had been a nagging worry. A fear, something that whispered that this was too good to be true.
That Pure Vanilla and their surrender, deep down, was nothing more than a lie. That their care was a flimsy facade, just like her.
She promised she cared about him. She trusted him with her woes. She said she loved him.
And, in the end, she discarded him. She abandoned him. He was left to scream to the heavens, hoping that something, anything, would turn her gaze back.
She felt the pain of the world. So he caused pain.
Pure Vanilla reminded him of her. They were so similar that it made him want to laugh. But, Pure Vanilla was different, better…
Right?
…right?
He shook his head. No, no, that was right!
He knew better than this! This other him was tremendously unstable, probably to the point of self-sabotage. And, well, maybe it happened in another timeline.
It wouldn't happen here.
"Whatever you did," he said, leaning back. "That's your own failure. My Recluse? My Nilly?" He laughed as his own face scrunched up, the eye breaking back up into multiple eyes as he growled. "His word is true, and he promised me forever. I'm certain that he betrayed you because of your own actions." He shooed. "I'm not an idiot."
The Other Him glared him down.
"You'll regret this."
And, with that, reality and time tore. He fell back, and it closed, the smell of burnt milk left haunting the air.
Now alone, Shadow Milk let out a breath.
"That was weird," he said to himself.
But was it wrong?
He shook himself, shaking his head as if the thought was just some water in his ear. No, it was wrong. He had Pure Vanilla. He had his recluse, and both halves of the soul jam under his power. He had been given these things willingly, with just some minor… let's call it conviction.
To allow this other him to rattle him would be admitting defeat, would cause him to question, to make mistakes.
He was a god. He didn't make mistakes. He wasn't going to start now.
But, the nagging feeling, the twisting of his guts, refused to go away. He allowed himself to pace, hoping that it would get rid of it, but it moved to his mind, whispering in his ear.
Where was Truthless Recluse? Was she actually in her room? Had she actually gotten rid of those gnats?
What if they were still running around? What if Pure Vanilla was plotting with them?
No, no, he was being ridiculous. He had taken care to make sure that she was telling the truth. He kept his eyes locked on Pure Vanilla, and Black Sapphire knew to keep a careful eye out. If something happened, he would know.
Except, there was nothing! Truthless Recluse was here, was playing with him, was with him! They could keep each other safe in this world where the people who claimed to love you could so easily stab you in the back.
Right?
…there was nothing to be concerned about, right?
Suddenly, he was moving, heading out of his personal chambers and down into the Spire. His heart thrummed, whispering go go go. He found himself gritting his teeth, terrified and furious at what he would find.
He knew where her room was. It had been the first room he had restored.
He slammed open the door.
Truthless Recluse wasn't lying in bed. Instead, he was seated in his armchair, his fingers pressed against the Braille in the book he held. He had at least shed his robes for a simple nightgown. Much to his surprise (and satisfaction), he held the little Shadow Milk plush he had made as a joke (and room-warming present) angled to see the book.
"…Hello?"
He dropped to the floor, unsure what to say for a minute. The fight had fled from him.
What? A crazy, unstable version of me that might be from another timeline told me that you were plotting to betray me? That sounded insane, even for him.
"…I was just… checking… on you." There. That sounded more sane. He kicked off the ground and headed over to the armchair. "I mean, we had such a fun day full of games! Didn't you enjoy it?"
"…I-"
"Wonderful!" Shadow Milk squeezed in next to him, batting his eyes. "And I see you got a little friend! How adorable-"
"Your hair is different." His eyes glanced down and quickly darted back up. "And you're…not dressed."
Oh. He had forgotten to place his spells.
Before he could come up with a lie, Truthless reached out. His hands, slightly callused from years of labor, carded gently through a loose, starlit curl. Shadow Milk felt his breath freeze as he tucked it behind his ear. "It's lovely. Your hair. And your eyes…"
"Eh, they're not as pretty as yours, especially with the deceit coating them!" Okay, that was too honest.
The eyes in question widened, so gently, and Pure Vanilla spoke, her voice gentle. "Is everything alright?"
What could he say? What would be the best thing, when her gaze and her soft concern were on him? Her hand was still cupping his face.
"…I had a dream. One where you were lying about being by my side. That you were pretending, only to stab me in the back." He sighed, wrapping his arms around her. It went against his character to be honest, but he needed the comfort. "That, to you, I was merely an object to gain more power." He nuzzled his recluse's hair, breathing in the soft scent of yogurt-tinged vanilla. "But, that's ridiculous. Right?"
Right?
-_-
Pure Vanilla froze inside Shadow Milk's embrace.
How did he know?
For now, however, it seemed her plan was safe.
It had taken all of her effort and strength to try to convince the children to leave. In the end, she had to resort to creating a physical portal to push them through. Now, it was just her, trying her best to understand her other half.
What did she understand right now?
Shadow Milk would be absolutely furious with her if he learned the truth.
And… he truly thought so little of himself.
She fought back a shiver as she wrapped her arms around him.
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Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism 👍🏾 you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.
Day 4: Different First Meeting- Enchantresspurelily
Pure Vanilla opened the door and stared.
"…White Lily?"
"Hello, Pure Vanilla." She tried for a smile, but it fell flat. She glanced at her companion, who looked strangely like her. "…Can we come in?" She glanced up at the sky, where the sky was concerningly dark. "…we need to talk."
He blinked at the question. "Ah, yes!" He moved aside, allowing the two to come in. "Please, come in."
He found himself guiding the two up the stairs and into his personal chambers. The fire in the fireplace was blazing bright, illuminating his work. Now, it illuminated the state of White Lily and her companion, who settled on a chair and stared into the flames.
"…I'll go get you some dry clothes."
He hurried into his closet. There was a section where he kept some spare nightgowns, mended and adjusted to suit White Lily's height and slender build. He grabbed two and found himself pausing. For some reason, he leaned forward, his ear brushing against the door.
"…he's much more beautiful than you described him." The companion's voice was raspy, maybe a little older, but he could hear similarities between her and White Lily. What had happened exactly? Had White Lily succeeded in making a clone?
Also, beautiful?
"…He is. I have failed him so many times, and yet he still opens his halls for me," White Lily sighed, and he could see her sad smile in his mind's eye. "He'll help us. I promise."
Once upon a time, a man had twelve children. When his thirteenth was born, it was a healthy baby boy. He decided that this child deserved the best godparents he could find.
So, he set out on the road.
He wandered for many miles on the road, unsure of where he was going, but determined.
First, he encountered an angel, who offered to be his son's godparent, but he refused. "You condone poverty and suffering," he said. "Your offers of health and happiness for him are not enough to ignore that."
Next, he encountered a demon, who offered to be his son's godparent, but he refused. "You deceive and trick humanity," he said. "Your offers of gold and the world's joys for him are not enough to ignore that."
He wandered for many more miles, still unsure of where he was going, but determined.
And then, he met two figures, clad in black and red. Flowers blossomed around one, while the grass withered around the other.
Death and Life stood in front of him and offered to be his child's godparents.
He considered it. Life gave everyone the chance to make the most of it, and Death took everyone in the end. Whether rich or poor, young or old, they did not care. Everyone had the same chance, and everyone met the same fate.
He accepted the offer.
His son grew up clever and smart, and when he came of age, Life and Death appeared before him. They asked him what he wished to be, for they wished to help him, and he revealed he wished to be a doctor.
For her gift, Life taught the son about herbs. She explained which were poison and which were medicine, how to turn poison into medicine and medicine into poison. She taught him how to grow the herbs, and soon he had a flourishing garden.
For his gift, Death offered himself. He told the son that, when he visited a sick person, he would see him. If Death nodded, the person would be well. If Death shook his head, the person was doomed to die, and he had no choice in the matter.
The doctor soon became known for his ability to foresee whether a person would recover or not. If a patient were to live, he would whip up a miraculous cure. He gained fame and riches. However, to him, those were worthless compared to the pride his godparents felt in him.
One day, however, the king himself came to the doctor, begging and pleading for his aid. His daughter, the beloved princess, had fallen ill. The doctor came to the palace immediately, seeing nothing but another person who needed his help.
However, things were different.
The moment he laid eyes upon her, the doctor fell deeply in love with the princess.
However, Death appeared to him and shook his head.
She was doomed to die.
But the doctor had fallen in love and would not be persuaded. He said that the princess could be cured and whipped up a miraculous cure. When he fed it to her, she recovered. Death turned away from him.
The doctor lingered by the princess's side. They talked for hours about various subjects, and he fell even deeper in love, charmed by her wit and her cleverness. For her part, she admitted that she loved him as well, charmed by his knowledge and the stories of the people he had met.
However, this was not to last.
The princess took ill again, and once again, Death shook his head. The doctor ignored him and whipped up another cure.
The princess recovered again, and she asked him to marry her. He agreed, and the two were married in a small ceremony. The king was delighted by the match and promised the doctor that, when he passed, he would be king.
However, this was not to last.
The doctor's wife took ill again. This time was much, much worse, and once again, Death shook his head. Once again, the doctor turned to ignore him, but Death stopped him.
He guided him away from his wife and told him he had to show him something.
He guided him to a cave full of candles. He explained that each of these candles was a person's life, each created by Life. He explained that a candle could not keep on burning, not when it had reached the end of its wick. His wife's candle, he explained, was at the very end, and he showed her candle, nothing more than a pile of wax, with a flame feebly clinging on.
The doctor pleaded for a way to save her. He would do anything, even give up his own candle, just to save her. Death shook his head. He could not, as much as he wished he could. To cure her would only drag things out.
A flame went out.
The princess died, and the doctor was never seen again.
I think in the android au, Fount would try to summon Timekeeper to get Healer's memories back.
Also, poor CApple, she's in the same boat as the kids since Healer just won't remember her at all, since Viri was the one to find her.
Ooooo Timekeeper in the Android AU would make things interesting.
Hmmm
Oh, all the kids are in horrible states once they realize Papa Healer doesn't remember them.
Everyone tip toes around each other and it's driving poor Truthless Recluse mad!! He doesn't want the new twins to be born in a Spire that's quiet and fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing and causing a breakdown!
He's supposed to be the emotional wreck and Healer is supposed to be supporting him!
The kids are all caught between wanting to remind Healer who they are, and too scared to do so (they're afraid he will say something that "really proves" he doesn't remember them)
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The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero.
"Time to be a Warrior."
-----
Artfight attack 2026! For my friend (and also creator of the AU i made this attack for)
semi-samadhi fire Wukong vs Macaque except Mac is the fully possessed guy... (lbd sigh) Twists and tumbles AU teehee MY FRIEND IS SO AWESOME BRO I LOVE THEIR AU (Magmadzy on Artfight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pls go check them out their art is awesome)
My Artfight: heavenlygreatsage
I prioritize revenges, so attack me if youd like art in return!
