#✦ general || crack ✦ time to break some eggs

[stardustedstories]

Everyone: Who knows [insert character here] best? Me, a burnt out former gifted kid who genuinely feels anxious about getting questions wrong especially when characters would know the answers but my brain is like a sieve these days: OH GOOD, MY WORST NIGHTMARE.

[storiedhistories]

Grog is proud of Pike for giving strangers alcohol....even if he would have happily consumed it himself.

[billiewena]

FOUR YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020, as summed up by Supernatural

past recaps: year one / year two / year three / year four

full context and sources below:

various explanations + resources/sources/extra reading on this year's recap:

balls deep: misha collins says the quiet part out loud at Cross Roads 8 Supernatural Convention, saying "if the CW wasn't so homophobic dean and cas would've been balls deep for sure" at a con (x) (x) (x)

garthbenny canon: supernatural actors DJ Qualls (who played hunter-turned-werewolf Garth Fitzgerald) and Ty Olsson (who played the vampire Benny Lafitte) reveal they're married, delighting crack shippers like myself everywhere (x)

spn spooky picture book: official supernatural children's picture book is released, retconning things like john winchester as a happy father figure and castiel being their cowardly childhood friend who sorta hangs around (x) (x)

boop button: tumblr introduces a feature people enjoy for once for april fool's day and halloween and allows users to boop each other, spn bloggers re-awake like sleeper agents to use it in full force (x) (x)

bedlund speaks on destiel: former spn writer ben edlund goes on a tweet fest replying to fans, talking about destiel multiple times including this profound tweet (x)

clear text, not subtext: jensen speaks out again on the confession at Purcon 8, this time taking a more open stance on how the relationship was textual, his take on dean's feelings about cas's feelings, and how the scene with cas deserved a resolution (x)

bury your gays: famed author chuck tingle (known for his plethora of highly specific and delightfully inclusive, if strange, indie erotica novels) publishes his second mainstream horror novel, inspired by TV network studios' infamous history of censoring LGBT relationships and openly killing off queer characters. In a non-subtle nod to supernatural fans, the main character is named misha. (sidenote: did end up reading this and this book is actually really good commentary on the industry in general and really good, 10/10 recommend) (x) also someone got the book signed by misha, to further break the fourth wall (x)

tracker: jensen ackles begins starring in a CBS show where he is basically csoplaying dean winchester, with the show featuring many non-subtle spn references (i.e. him pretending to almost get in an impala before going to his truck, characters wearing spn necklaces, etc.) (x) (x) (x) (special shout-out to clarice @youre-only-gay-once for expertly tracking the tracker show and these easter eggs, highly recommend their tag for their show)

cw's walker cancelled: fans rejoiced upon hearing the cancellation news for jared's post-supernatural show, walker, a remake of "walker texas ranger." in addition to generally being a copaganda show for the notoriously racist texas rangers, jared's inspiration for the show's direction caused much concern. the actor himself said the show was inspired by the US border crisis, not by the immigrant families affected by the separation and internment, but instead wanting exploring the POV of the law enforcement agents working at the border and the moral dilemmas they had to face (x)

pro-destiel Wonder Woman: Lynda Carter (aka the iconic and beloved original actress for Wonder Woman, not the z*onist one) says she could "go for some Destiel" when promoting #GeeksandNerdsforHarrisWalz and Misha's involvement (x) the rest of the spn cast and original Showrunner Kripke were also a big part of this event

chili's backfire: the chain restaurant chili's drags destiel while interacting with 9-1-1 bucktommy shippers on twitter, immediately gets backfire. notably, their stock takes a dip the next day. coincidence? maybe so, maybe not (x) (x)

samgirl voting fraud: "who is the gayest spn character" tumblr poll surprisingly gets heated, with a blogger straight-up admitting they used a bot on the "castiel vs. sam" poll to rig the poll in sam's favor, which they apparently also did for w*ncest in another poll in the past, and posting a guide on how anyone could do the same. luckily democracy wins in this one instance and castiel prevails anyways, leading to an also contested "castiel vs. charlie bradbury" round (x) (x)

pink pony jarpad: jared is spotted at lesbian pop star chappell roan's set at a festival, un-likely place for him to be (x) also may have been one of the "boring" people called out by chappell? (x)

pro-kamala castiel: in a last-ditch effort to get out the vote, misha uses the power of castiel photo ops to campaign for harris-walz and even shouts-out destiel. I feel depressed writing this sentence, if you've made it this long in your read and you're in the states I hope you're doing alright! maybe by the time I wake up things will be a little different though. (x)

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #92: Percy/Apollo, but make it The Trojan War

Into every fandom, a time travel fic must fall - or in this case a second one, because I somehow got to thinking about the delightful PJO trope of Percy being thrown back in time to The Trojan War and realized that doing so misses out on a fantastic opportunity.

Or: What if post-TOA Percy Jackson and Apollo time travel to shortly before The Trojan War?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon through TOA, with one exception: rather than struggle to catch up in the mortal world following the Second Gigantomachy, Percy elects to stay at Camp Half-Blood. There he can homeschool at his own place with programs tailored towards ADHD children and still visit his family on the weekends - and not get into any more ridiculous situations in the mortal world when one of the gods kidnaps him or sends him on a quest to find their sneakers.

This, naturally, stresses his relationship with Annabeth - who, now that she's no longer living at camp full time, calls it the easy way out. But Percy is tired and struggling in mortal high school where everyone thinks he's a delinquent idiot when another option exists seems foolish. Percy and Annabeth break up and drift apart.

Enter Apollo, fresh from his latest stint as a mortal. He's trying to do his best by his children, which includes popping by camp as often as he can get away with - which in turn means spending a lot of time with Percy, who at this point is unofficially running CHB because it's not like Dionysus or even Chiron have done a brilliant job of it in recent times.

(First aid, strategy, and mythology classes are made mandatory. Percy personally ensures every demigod knows enough about self-defense to be able to survive long enough to run away or for help to arrive. Bullying is cracked down on so hard that it's this, not Percy's generally parental nature, that has people calling him Camp Mom.)

Percy and Apollo become friendly. Enough so that some of Apollo's kids assume they're dating and keeping it on the down-low so as not to draw Zeus' ire. Or Poseidon's. Or anyone else's. It's on one of their not-dates that they're yeeted into the past, without warning or explanation.

And so 19-year-old Percy Jackson and post-TOA Apollo find themselves in Ancient Greece c. 1220 BCE, roughly thirty-five years before the destruction of Troy.

The time travel is immediately obvious, as Apollo becomes the closest thing a god might experience to being high the moment they land in the past - being a powerful god in modern times is nothing like being a powerful god at the height of his power in ancient times. It's overwhelming (and somewhat alarming from Percy's POV, but kind of funny in retrospect.)

The specific date is harder to determine, but made clear when Hermes shows up and starts going on about you'll never believe what father's done now: he seduced the Spartan queen as a swan and she's laid an egg. Hera is furious - especially as they're saying the girl that hatched from it is the most beautiful in the world, even though she's only a few days old. It's nuts. By the way, where have you been? You missed the last two council meetings. Do you want Dad to punish you?

Apollo at this stage is very high. He's also been USTing over Percy for quite some time and is worried what the gods of this era might do to Percy without divine protection (smiting or seduction, it's all on the table). But mostly he's very high, and so to keep Percy close and safe he declares he's been off having the dirtiest of dirty weekends with his latest lover and that Hermes' presence is ruining the mood. So if he would kindly leave, please and thank you, he'd really rather get back to it without an audience.

This, naturally, is a surprise to Percy, but he rolls with it because 1) he doesn't have any better ideas on how to get rid of Ancient Greek Hermes so they can figure out what the hades is going on and 2) he's been USTing over Apollo ever since he recovered enough from Tartarus to start feeling attraction again.

Fueled by mutual UST, they put together a cover story that should hold the next time a god with too much prurient interest shows: Percy is now Prince Persē of Gadir - a Phoenician colony that will grow into the future Cadiz - well past the edge of the Greek world at this stage but not beyond belief for Poseidon to have visited, as it's obvious who his father is. They claim his mother is the King of Gadir's youngest sister and as such Persē had a royal upbringing, but was far enough down the line of succession that he was free to chose to sail east and explore his father's homeland. Apollo caught sight of him on his journey, one thing led to another, and here they are.

(Are there easier, more sensible cover stories? Possibly. But the UST refuses to let them consider any of them now that a fake relationship is on the table.)

Deciding what to do about The Trojan War is much harder. On the one hand, it's a lot of senseless death and destruction. On the other, without it we don't get The Iliad and The Odyssey - two of the most influential works of literature in western civilization - and Aeneas doesn't go off to Italy (leading to the founding of Rome, which would change the history of western civilization a lot). In the end, they decide to let the war happen but do their best to mitigate the worst parts of it.

And so Percy goes off and becomes a hero of Ancient Greece while pretending to be in a relationship with Apollo.

This stage of things is filed with angst from both parties, as both Percy and Apollo want a real relationship with each other but think they're abusing the other's trust by eagerly faking their relationship. There's a lot of PDA, a lot of feelings, and limited communication. It goes on for quite a while and would probably exasperate quite a few people if everyone in the know didn't think they were already in a relationship.

It's also filled with modern day Percy being confronted by realties of life in Ancient Greece. It's not just mortals knowing about - and interacting with - the gods: it's everything. It's food and clothes and language and culture and housing and travel. He can play a lot off it as being a traveler from the edge of the known world, but some of it has him asking Apollo if he's being rick rolled.

Apollo, meanwhile, is having troubles of his own. He is not the god he used to be and it's hard pretending otherwise. He tries to walk the line of doing enough to be believable and holding back enough not to despise himself, but it's a fine line, he fails often, and he spends a not insignificant amount of time worried he's backsliding.

And so it goes until 7-year-old Helen of Troy is kidnapped by Theseus to be his wife.

This, naturally, does not fly with Percy, who by this time has built up something of a reputation as a hero. He teams up with the Dioscuri to rescue Helen.

One would think this would earn him Zeus' favor. It doesn't. Instead, Zeus sends monsters to harry him for refusing to let Castor and Pollux take Helen's captors' loved ones captive and raze Aphidna for Theseus' crime. Percy manages to hold his own for quite a while but eventually, exhausted from the near-constant fighting, is gored and left for dead by the reformed Minotaur.

...and when Apollo arrives, frantic, to heal him, Percy ascends instead, becoming the greek version of Saint Sebastian - a minor god of heroes, strength in the face of adversity, and athleticism; sort of halfway between Hercules and Chiron.

Then and only then do Percy and Apollo finally get their act together, confessing to each other how much they care for the other and how much they don't want this to be fake any longer.

History proceeds apace - albeit with Persē being a second immortal trainer of heroes.

24 years after their arrival in the past, 16 years after Percy's ascension, The Trojan War begins. Despite their best efforts, there's only so much they can do - war is war and gods are gods. They are able to stop some of the worst excesses on both sides, but in the end Apollo still sends the plague that causes Agamemnon to take Briseis for his own, which caused Achilles' departure from the field, Patroclus' death, &c - not because Apollo was trying to maintain the timeline, but because in the instant he sent it he was angry and reverted to his old ways.

Troy falls...

...but when Zeus tries to use this as an excuse to ban gods from interacting with their demigod children, Apollo is able to say that's a bit extreme isn't it? with enough backing from the rest of the council that Zeus is forced to amend his ruling so that the gods are only allowed to freely visit their children on the "cross quarter days" that fall between each solstice and equinox (1 February, 1 May, 1 August, and 1 November).

This changes everything and nothing.

Time continues its inevitable march. Greece has its golden age before being conquered by Rome, which splits apart under its own weight and forms several smaller countries, which eventually spread their cultures around the world...

Apollo and Percy are there for it all. Persē is a minor figure in mythology, but never forgotten. He is ever-present in Apollo's temples - though the Church will later try to rewrite their myth so that they were merely sworn fighting partners, rather than lovers who eventually had a quite lovely wedding on Olympus (and then, at Poseidon's insistence, an even bigger ceremony on Atlantis). Percy takes over day-to-day operations of CHB from practically the moment the Trojan War ends.

...and so Persē is there the day Sally Jackson tries to get her son to camp, and is able to intervene when the Minotaur attacks on their border. He's able to meet her and her young son, Perseus ("Mom named me after you and the guy that killed Medusa since you're the only two heroes to have happy endings!"), and guide him through the trials that come with being a child of prophecy.

One day that Percy will hand Luke - who was never happy with the limited attention the gods were allowed to give their children - a cursed dagger so that Kronos can be defeated. That child will be offered godhood, turn it down, and go on to have a happy life with his eventual wife, Annabeth. He will never have his memories erased and be sent to Camp Jupiter. Gaia will not rise until long after that Percy's grandchildren are dead, and Zeus will not be quite so bullheaded when the proof of it is brought before him. That Second Gigantomachy is swift, well-coordinated, and fought without another Greek/Roman war brewing in the background.

And when they finally arrive at the day Apollo and Percy were originally sent back in time, Percy admits that while he is happy some version of him was better prepared for the war he was asked to fight in and allowed his peace afterward, he would change nothing about his own life, for it brought him to Apollo. The sunrise the next morning - on the first morning of the rest of their lives - is particularly spectacular.

Bonuses include:

Gaslighting Poseidon into believing that he's met Percy before the first time they're introduced. ("What do you mean you don't remember me, Father? You were present when I came of age! You gifted me this trident! Have I displeased you in some way?") It's an absolute masterclass that eventually manages to convince Poseidon that, yes, of course he knows Percy - and, maybe, he should check in on all his other demigod children to make sure he's not missed someone. (Two. He lost track of two of the others. Maybe he should be more careful about siring children in the future.) Apollo practically has to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing.

As much historical accuracy as can be crammed into the Percy trying to make sense of Ancient Greece chapters as possible. Think Of a Linear Circle - Part III by flamethrower levels of historical research. As much as can be shoehorned in without bogging down the plot.

Percy and Dionysus bonding over their mutual dislike of Theseus, though Percy generally gets along with his other half-siblings, especially the ones who come to camp young enough to keep from getting big heads over being the children of Poseidon.

Though Percy adores all the children in Cabin 7 (most of whom are born via blessing this time around), he and Apollo have at least one child of their own - maybe a demigod born before Percy's ascension to sell their fake relationship? Maybe a minor god who's later attributed a different parentage by mortals? Dealer's choice on details.

It never being made clear who, or what, or how, Percy and Apollo were sent into the past. All of Percy's oddities are attributed to him being foreign or formerly mortal, all of Apollo's to the fact that he's in love with someone who didn't die before their first anniversary, and no one ever guesses time travel is responsible for their eccentricities. Or that time travel was ever an option.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you ever decide to do anything with it.

More PJO Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

[shuenkio]

In the Sauna 🔥

Paring: Ni-ki x male!reader

Cw: mentioned of dick, naked, masturbate.

Genre: soft smau, crack, [not a smut]

Summary: He wants to teach you how to be brave.

Read at your own risk.

Lack of perfect words/Non proof read ><

You have been friends with Riki ever since kindergarten, and it's incredible how strong your bond has remained despite the challenges that come with long-term friendships. There have been moments when he has irritated you to no end, and you have had your fair share of disagreements. However, Riki always manages to swallow his pride and apologize, pleading for your forgiveness and seeking your companionship once again.

Even the classic duo of Tom and Jerry pales in comparison to the dynamic tension between you and Riki.

On an evening Sunday, you and Riki decide to visit a sauna for a relaxing steam, a plan that had been in the works

Upon arriving at the Sauna, you are instantly captivated by the surroundings, feeling the tension in your shoulders melting away. Despite having seen it in pictures online, nothing compares to the real thing, the atmosphere bustling with life and activity. Everywhere you look, people stroll by with boil eggs and head towels shaped like sheep, creating an adorable sight.

As Riki leads the way, your eyes continue to roam curiously, taking in every detail of the Sauna. Sensing your distraction, he gently grabs your hand, guiding you to the reservation room that you booked together the previous day.

*Inside the sauna*

The steam sauna room is a cozy haven for relaxation and stress relief, with its small, enclosed space filled with warm, humid air generated by a steam generator. The room is equipped with benches for comfortable seating, smooth walls, and soothing lighting, creating a tranquil atmosphere for sweating and unwinding.

As Riki settles down and taps the empty space beside him, motioning for you to join him, you take a seat, feeling a bit self-conscious about revealing your skin in this public setting.

"I can't believe we're in a place like this riki, wild free like we're in some kind of jungle," you said, as you covered your chest with your hands, still not used to exposing your skin in a crowded place like this.

Riki chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. You've always been the shy type one and never changed ever since he first met you.

"Relax, this is our private room, nobody gonna stare at you just look at me! Do like this" He swung both of his hands and leaned against the wall, as he closed his eyes enjoying the warm the man spreading sight.

Being friends with him, you've to get used to seeing him being like this, didn't give af about anyone around him, he likes to do whatever crosses his mind.

The small towel that wrapped around his waistband began to strip down a little, loosening its grip, but looking at him right now, he was already in a daydream.

"Hey hey, your towel is about to loosen!" You said, alerted him. If he let it go, he'd be naked.

No response from him.

"Yahh are you deaf—" You turn your head toward him, gesturing him to do something. Imagine someone burst in by accident, wouldn't he be embarrassed? Or not?

"Ughh you're so annoying mn, imma just" his eyes are still closed, while he pulls out his towel, and throws it beside him. Spring free his long length, all sweaty with his uncut.

Your mouth dropped open, stunned at what you have just witnessed. This dude is a definition of brave for real. The urge to fire back at him stopped, you know that no matter what you say, he won't listen to you anyway. Let him be.

You take a deep heavy sigh before minding your own business. His being naked is not the first time you've seen it, countless times on record, however, acts like he's at home in this place, giving you a second hand embarrassed, anxious that someone could break in, and misunderstood.

"Can you just not for a day? What if someone comes in?" You said, slightly mad at him for his behaviors, he acts like he is a child.

"Ijbol who cares? Maybe I'd left them impressed with my big dick here" He smirked, teasing you was one of his joy to see your priceless reaction. He then stroked slowly on his length in a playful manner, pushing you to the edge.

A flashed red blush spreads across your face, even though you get used to it, his size always turning you on, clicking your button every time. You act as if you don't care, so he'll stop giving you a hard time.

Nevertheless, as he continues to play with his crotch, you feel your member poking under the towel, begging to set them free. The aroused feels growing on you a little by a little until it's fully hard.

You don't have anything to cover it up, in this steam sauna room, your leg could be used for some help. You cross your leg hoping that, he wouldn't notice your dick although his hawk eyes are already piercing your towel.

"Did I turn you on mn? My apologies if I give you a hard dick" his cocky face after he say that, irritated you so much. This is all his fault.

"Shut up you duck" you reply, as you try your best to not let your member leak. This towel is so short, barely covers your ass up, which makes your temperature even worse mixed with horny.

The moment of silence, suddenly filled with wet noises. Riki is now holding on to his dick, jerking off, chasing for his pleasure. Biting on his towel, moving his palm in a fast pace.

A gasp escapes his mouth, as he maintains the speed on his fingertips. You stay frozen, cherish the moment, and behold the sight.

In a few more strokes, his glans are dripping with his pre-cum, showering his shift in transparent wet sticky pieces of stuff. Despite not reaching his goal yet, he increases the tempo, running his fingers rapidly.

Leaving him more breathless, heaving his chest in unstable motions. Gritting his teeth tight on his towel, bites back his moans painfully.

Soon enough, he splashed out the wet cum all over his thighs. Arching his back in ecstasy, shooting out the mess on the spot he is sitting on.

"S~ee You gotta take not from me, cumming in a steam sauna lol" He uttered in an exhausted voice, worn out from the sensation of masturbated.

You didn't realize that your dick also dripping in pre-cum.

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to all pics&dividers

🗣️ small update ~

🗣️ Don't by shy, request me 😔 I still need idea for Sunoo one 🫣

[deadsetobsessions]

Bestie sent me a tiktok by @craycrayglitterbug. Thanks for driving all this way to visit me~

——

It was the beginning of Gotham’s Summer seasonal aggression week, which was the city’s own version of seasonal depression limited to one week where instead of getting depressed, Gothamites got pissed off.

They had one for each season. Spring’s seasonal aggression week coincided with the first release of pollen from the surrounding plants, aggravated by Ivy’s proclivity towards increasing plant growth in her forest. Since most people weren’t actually pissed off enough to bring smoke to a Rogue (Ivy got strongly worded mail though), they took it out on each other. The Bats broke off more street brawls and knife fights during this season, all the while handing out tissues and anti-allergy medicine to red-nosed, puffy eyed people.

Fall… well, that week was Halloween. Enough said. Scarecrow, committed to his bit, was the most active this season. In the same vein, Spoiler and Red Robin were on the scene more often than not during this season. Gas masks and a bat were popular accessories during this season.

Winter meant Penguin and Mr. Freeze became more active, having a natural advantage in Winter. Like Pokémon, but instead of being cute, they’re busy being menaces to society and Gotham’s already fraying threads of sanity.

The Joker is terrible all year round. Fish fear him, insurance policies want him, and Red Hood tries to go for his throat every time he makes an appearance. Such were the unchangeable facts of Gotham’s hellish landscape.

Summer, though. Summer was the worst of the four seasons for seasonal aggression. The other three could generally be avoided with a modicum of luck, but Summer’s heat was unavoidable. Normally, stone architecture such as those that Gotham sported would aid in the ventilation of the city. It was not so for the normally clouded over metropolis. Instead, the curse that Gotham was built upon had adapted to modernity. Now, for exactly one week, the city had sweltering heat at night and day, inside or outside. The pavement could cook eggs, and the marble inside banks sometimes were so hot that people had to flood it with water to avoid burning their fingertips. Some of the buildings had cutting edge AC, thank you Wayne Enterprises, that the curse had yet to adapt to. They were popular spots and silently agreed upon to be protected from the usual shenanigans and robberies.

At night, the heat cools enough to be a natural irritant instead of miserably bringing people to heat exhaustion.

This is where we find two of the more active members of the vigilante scenes during this season:

The Red Hood, and the Batman.

To be fair, Batman is active all season, but summer called for more reinforcements than normal.

Red Hood made sure his Alley had access to clean water, shade, and handed out relief to the less fortunate inhabitants. He also cracked down on the fools that tried his rules, not killing them because the Seasonal Aggression led to seasonal stupidity more often than not and he couldn’t exactly blame criminals for doing crime. He can, however, blame them for breaking his rules while doing said crimes.

Batman covered the city, helping irritated children find their way back to equally irritated but worried mothers walking him at night, taking down rogues, and disarming the numerous pipe bombs people built out of aggravation.

Though the vigilantes had thermoregulated suits, they were not immune to seasonal aggression.

“What the fuck, old man?!” Jason shouted through his helmet as Bruce took down the goon Jason was gunning for.

“Hm,” Bruce grunted back, ducking low to kick another goon in the chest.

Jason shot the last one in the foot and slammed his fist into their face as they dropped in pain.

“What the hell are you doing in my territory?!”

Bruce, unable to say he missed Jason and unwilling to get shot should he even hint at telling his son that he swung by to check on him, simply grunted.

“Oh, well fuck you too, you overgrown rat!” Jason scowled, holstering his guns. He knew how riled up he could get on a regular patrol. A patrol on hell week stood no chance of ever ending peacefully. He’d better stow away his guns so Bruce doesn’t walk home with a couple of noticeable dents in his Kevlar. Alfred would be upset if that happened. “You want to start shit? Fuck you, I’ll start shit first!”

Batman opened his mouth- whether to reprimand him or deny the accusations, the world will never know- but Jason cut him off.

“Okay, your suit? Whack. Your parenting skills? Whack,” Jason quickly spat out, the built in voice changer changing it to sound even more growly. “Your taste in literature? Abysmal. Don’t even get me started on your hypocrisy!”

“Hood-”

“You know what? I will get started on your hypocrisy! The Joker straight up murdered one of your kids! I was your kid! You said- you said that you loved me!”

Jason, who had thought he had moved past this despite not putting in the work to do so and refused to work through his emotions in anyway that wasn’t murdering someone or crying on Jane Austen novels, had in fact not moved past this. Unsurprisingly, Bruce wasn’t the best model for self care and healthy coping mechanisms. And despite Jason’s vehement objections to being compared to Bruce in anyway, being like Bruce in anyway, the fact of the matter is that eventually, all of Bruce’s kids will inevitably have a facet of themselves turn out like him.

“I do!” Bruce objected, the heat getting to his head and making it easier to actually express any form of emotion that was not mildly related to Justice.

A goon groaned, but Jason knocked him out again with a swift blow to the head before turning and pointing an accusing finger at Batman.

“If you loved me, why didn’t you kill the Joker?!” Jason screamed, punting the unconscious body of a goon against the HVAC. He took off his helmet and hurled it at Batman. Jason jabbed a thumb at his masked face, pointing out the myriad of raised scars on his face. “Look at me! I’m- I have scars! And they never stop hurting! I had to fucking dig myself out of my grave because he killed me and I was unfortunate enough to be dragged back!”

“Jaylad-”

Jason snarled, stalking closer and shoving Bruce back. Bruce allowed it, his head pounding with the heat.

“You couldn’t save me, fine! But fuck, you let Gotham pay the price for letting him live! This is the third Joker group we’ve downed this week! People died, B! Good, innocent people and scumbags! You could have killed him! You could have stopped him! All of this,” Jason gestured angrily at the downed goons and the blood splattered on top of the roof, jaw clenched and eyes more fiery than the summer day Gotham had been subjected you. “Just because of your no-kill rule!”

Bruce drew his shoulders back like he was about o admit something shameful. “That’s not why I didn’t kill the Joker. I tried to kill him, but Superman stopped me.”

Jason’s next shout died in his throat, the anti-hero looking floored as he stared at his father figure, frozen in place with his mouth agape. Bruce continued, now that he could speak, the words rushing out of him like a dam that could not be stopped from breaking. “What?” Jason breathed out. Bruce barreled on.

“I know. I know I’m a hypocrite. But if I tried to kill him, I wouldn’t stop at just him.”

“No, wait, Superman what?”

“He stopped me.”

Three beats of silence.

“Then, why… why didn’t you try again?” Jason asked, voice strangled and thrown helmet all but forgotten in this new piece of information.

“Because… it was an attempt to kill myself too. After that, I didn’t have the will to do anything but to cling onto the Mission,” Bruce said, voice softening to that which he used for children because despite everything, Jason’s was still his son. “And… I didn’t think I deserved to take the easy way out, not when you had the opportunity to live taken away from you like that.”

Jason swallowed. “Why the fuck couldn’t you have told me this earlier?”

“You were angry at me. I deserved it.”

“Fuck you and your stupid martyr bullshit,” Jason rebuked. He went to collect his helmet. Jason paused when he passed Bruce, a split second of understanding running between them that wasn’t there before. Jason picked up his helmet roughly as Batman stood stock still- akin to someone standing still when their cat purrs on them, afraid to move and provoke an unfavorable connection- and huffed.

“I’m gonna beat up the Boy Scout.”

“No.” Bruce paused. “I can’t condone that… but I can tell you that there might be security lapse in the kryptonite safe tonight.”

“I still don’t like you.”

“But you know you’re my son… right?”

“I’ll think about it,” Jason muttered. He pulled out his gun and shoots a guy in the foot. The unconscious goon twitches.

“Hood!” Bruce’s tone changed to scolding.

“There we go. And we’re back.”

“That’s great,” Oracle said in their ears. “Next time, remember to shut off your comms.”

Jason’s face burned. “Oh fuck.”

“Little wing… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Dick said, voice watery as he audibly beat thugs over the head with his baton.

“Hey, Harley’s scheduled to break out of Arkham like tomorrow if you wanted to beat up Superman with her.”

“Sure, Red. Now fuck off!”

Jason shut off his comms, zipped down to the street and stomped angrily to his motorcycle.

Batman turned to gather up the goons, pettily deciding not to warn Superman. Hey, hell week affected him too.

[i-like-forcefem]

PURELY hypothetically speaking, how EXACTLY would you go about forcefemming a guy who’s sooo masc, like he thinks he’s the ALPHA SHIT, he thinks he pulls all the ladies and is the most manly man to ever man… and turning “him” into an adorable little girly princess :3c asking for a friend

For a hard boiled egg like this it’s very important to get her alone in an isolated location for an extended period of time! It always takes a little longer then they’ve got pride, but honestly that makes it so so much more fun when they crack

It’s a bit of a staple, but I think I’ll use my Basement, yes it’s generic, but it’s tried and true, and a girl like this isn’t a time to experiment

Getting her to the basement is usually easy enough, just invite her over for tea or something and apply a little posion of your choice that will have her immobilised, sleepy pills work, but I personally prefer it when you can see the fear in her eyes when they get fully paralysed

I always have my basement prepared for new arrivals, this means a firm lock, and plenty of hand cuffs around the walls and girly furniture for if I want to move her around

The first time she wakes up is always so important and so so fun, so I’ll pick out a good spot to tie her up, I think the plushy couch would be good for this cutie, and make sure to pick a good outfit

For a girl like this I think it’d be best to start with her in just a pair of pink panties, just being handcuffed in a hugging position with a plushy against her skin should be enough embarrassment for the wake up, I’ll also be sure to use my princess gag just to make her first impressions extra cute as she makes muffled screeches

Then I’ll wait till she wakes up, I usually monitor a camera from outside the room and wait to enter, I want her to get a feel for the room and her situation before she sees me, 2 minutes is usually enough for her to glance around the overly girly room, notice she’s tied up, and to start her muffled screams

Then I’ll calmly enter and tell her how she’s my doll now, she’ll have objections of course, being a big bugle “man”, but it’s pretty hard to do anything about your situation when tied up like that

And then I’ll play it slow

I think I can have her docile by the end of the day, dress her up in her first dress (the basement can get very cold so if she doesn’t want to wear her dress that’s fine by me, but she’ll give in by the end of the second day, and to survive that long I’ll probably get some adorable footage of her willingly snuggling up with her many many plushies, hard to think a “man” would do that)

Any food I give her will obviously have hrt inserted into it, but in this case in particular I want to try something new, next to her (estrogen filled) meals I’ll also give her some placebo pills I’ll tell her are actually hrt, and if she’s a Good Girl and takes her pills she’ll be rewarded

Obviously she’ll refuse at first, willingly taking pills is one of the hardest milestones for a girl to pass

But always giving her the option always gives me to opportunity to punish her, and to tell her just how easy it’d be if she just submitted, became my pretty little girl

Now some of the girls have a surprising amount of determination to not become happy, so this might take a while, which is why I’ll give her her hrt anyway

Since it will be so so fun to tease her for it, I could maybe even gaslight her into thinking she might be taking the pills anyway, or her body wants to become a girl so so bad that’s it’s making estrogen all on its own

You’d be surprised how much gaslighting you can get away with if you’re a persons only outside contact

So… I’ve got some plans to say the least!!! I’ve got a whole laundry list of activities we could try every week to keep it fresh (from shock collars to vibrators to bondage, to “toy” pink weightlifting products that are 10 times the weight it says on the box, I will have so much fun breaking her :3)

Now do you have any idea where this hypothetical person is? And do they prefer tea or coffee?

[viviennevermillion]

ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ

❝ always there to warm you in the winter.... always there with shelter from the rain... always there to catch you when you're falling... always there to stand you up again... family...❞ — Lady & the Tramp 2

notes: i see chapter 7 part 4 did things to our puny little minds. part of @briarvalleyarchives "anthems of old" event. a short story about lilia, malleus and whom they've lost.

warnings: character death, major chapter 7 spoilers

The winter after the beloved princess had passed was a cruel and solemn one. The snowflakes would travel through the cold air of Briar Valley as they had done so many times in the years prior and hit the ground, melting into the ones that had come before; a fate that was all too familiar to the residents of the small nation. The war had left its scars upon the lands. Beasts had run rampant in the villages; destroying homes that had been carefully built with love and dedication. The caves in the mountains were stripped of their glamour, the crystals that had reflected the sunlight that would, despite all odds, break through the cracks, were stolen by beasts unfamiliar to the once peaceful home of the fae.

Because some beasts were not as easy to handle as the demon beasts that came from the mountains to wreak havoc in the settlements. No one knew that better than the fearsome General Vanrouge. From the moment Lady Mallenoa had entered her eternal slumber; with no amount of love able to wake her once more, it was as though winter never ended. Memories of times gone by would flash through his mind; the way they had played in the snow as children and the young princess would never go easy on him; using her magic to turn the previously innocent game into a battlefield of snowballs that left Lilia no room to fight back. It took centuries for him to be able to hold a candle to her power.

Now the snow was stained with the blood of his enemies. At the time, the general had never taken a moment to think about whether the Silver Owls he had slain had a family waiting for them at home as well. They had taken his, so they were undeserving of theirs. General Vanrouge had been consumed by the rage and bitterness in his heart, destroying all who dared stand in his path, for his heart now belonged to battle. This way, he wouldn't have to mourn the past.

He remembered vividly, always, the day they laid her to rest. It seemed as though the whole kingdom was present to say their goodbyes to her. Each citizen who attended the burial was dressed in black for this day, illuminated in the dead of night only by the candles they held as the princess was carried in a casket to her final resting place. The queen had placed a single rose on the ground that to Lilia seemed as though it had swallowed her. Lilia had walked up to the grave later when everyone had left. He thought of the egg still rested and protected within the chambers of the castle. "I promise, for as long as I live, no harm shall come to it. And not a day will go by....that I don't miss your smile", his voice cracked as the tears started streaming down his face. The seasons would go by and yet the cold never passed. Not when the sun would rise on the next day, not when it had risen a hundred years later.

General Vanrouge remembered how she had taught him to play stringed instruments, something he found boring and pointless as a child. Princess Mallenoa always had such a soothing voice. He remembered how she'd sit next to her egg with Prince Levan and sing a soft song to the unborn child. Now Lilia's heart sang without a sound; a quiet melody of grief and unrest. Her funeral was the last time he had allowed himself to cry. The numbness in his heart when he'd open his eyes in the morning didn't fade for decades, centuries even. These were lifespans in the eyes of a child of man; and they seemed to have forgotten all about the devastation they had brought to Briar Valley just a few hundred years later. But a soldier's heart never forgets. It never forgives. That was what Lilia thought at the time. Pain had made him heartless and his heart had been locked away for he feared the pain it held more than any foe on the battlefield. He only hoped, wherever she was now, that she had found peace.

How many times had he wished to feel again? To wake up in the morning and hear her pounding on his door, angry about something. It had annoyed him at the time. But she had been alive.

Yes, the seasons had gone by, yet eternal winter resided in the hearts of the people. But nothing stopped another day. Nothing stopped the inevitable; that the general's heart would thaw one day and spring would arrive in Briar Valley.

It was a miracle. At this point, the egg was more of a reminder of a future that would never be. A memory. Something to make one realize that the royal family would die with Queen Maleficia; the future of the kingdom as uncertain as it had been since the day the war ended. And who would blame anyone? It had been centuries.

But Malleus was spring.

He was the reason General Vanrouge shed a tear once more. One of relief and of love he thought he no longer had inside him. He had smiled when he first saw the little dragon fae with his eggshell on his small face. A smile he was sure the princess would have teased him for. After all, wasn't it him who had always said that he hated children? Who had refused to hold her egg when she had offered it to him? Yet in that moment, he couldn't help to do so. He had picked the little prince up and looked at the queen with the brightest smile she had seen on him in centuries. Tears were streaming down his face as the small fae was just looking up at him with awe and curiosity in his eyes. People say that when someone passes, in a way they are still with you. Lilia had always thought that this was bullshit, he had been far too bitter to notice. But in that moment, he realized that Mallenoa was all around him. He held her legacy in his arms. "She saved us once again, didn't she?", he had whispered quietly, wiping the tears from his face.

The little prince grew up healthy and not one bit less of a fire hazard than his mother had been. He grew up unaware of the bloodshed that had stained his beloved homeland when his egg had come into existence. Unaware of what his parents had sacrificed, of what Lilia had sacrificed, so that he could live and grow. But he had often wondered what it would be like if his parents were still around. Sometimes Malleus would sneak out of the castle, quietly observing the people in the village at the foot of the mountain in awe. He saw little children, not much older than him, protesting under tears because they didn't want to go clothes shopping for their uncle's 900th birthday as they were dragged by their parents' hand and promised their favorite candy if they would go along without making a fuss. He witnessed a mother explaining to her toddler what a bird was. He watched and listened as a father read his son a story on a bench by the fountain. Lilia had read him lots of stories before. But Malleus had always wondered what his father's voice would have sounded like doing this.

The prince spent most of his days alone in the castle. Lilia still had work to do and his grandmother was busy ruling an entire country as he would come to do one day as well. So as soon as Malleus had learnt to read, he would spend his time in the library, curiously exploring stories from a world beyond the castle walls; hoping that he would one day spread his wings to set off and see it for himself. Lots of the stories contained themes of family but few of the families looked quite like his. There was always a mother, a father and at least one child. Malleus would take the books and show it to his guardian, asking Lilia what his father was like and whether he would have taken him fishing like the farmer did with his son in the picture book. There was a flash of pain on Lilia's expression that Malleus had never noticed back then. "I'm sure he would have", the older fae had answered. The stories Malleus heard about his own parents were always short and vague. But Lilia had told him that they were exceptional people who would be proud of him if they could see him now.

Malleus had always wondered what having a father was like. He would get his answer when Lilia took a small human into his custody. Malleus was curious about the baby, always sneaking out to visit the cottage in the forest to see what his guardian was up to. At first he was pouting because Lilia was now giving most of his attention to someone else. But with time he had grown to care for the little child of man. Lilia seemed much happier now. Time had healed his wounds despite the scars of battle and loss never truly fading. He would arrive at the castle to do a task the queen had assigned to him and the prince would greet him to ask about how Silver was doing. Malleus was happy that Silver got to grew up with a father. He never fathomed that both of them could lose him.

The world was simple back then. It was just the castle, Malleus, his grandmother, Lilia and the little human he was raising and that Malleus would often play with or read to when Lilia had work to do at the palace. He couldn't ever have imagined going to Night Raven College and finding the world had changed so much from the one he read about in books. Or that his third year would mark his last with Lilia. That he would see Silver cry and grieve like this.

The world outside of Briar Valley was one he had always longed to see and that brought him many curious, but happy memories. He had learnt about the Halloween traditions of other nations and celebrated the holiday together with them. He had cooked a meal for the first time and the person he had served it to had enjoyed it. He had seen other countries and took part in their culture.

Even Lilia still found the school to be a place for new experiences. He had met a friend on this strange invention called the "Internet" and treasured that friendship despite never having met this friend in person. This online friend would often talk to Lilia in the chat, casually mentioning how he had obtained the newest addition of his favorite manga or played a game with his brother. Lilia would hesitate for a moment, recalling memories that seemed so long ago to him now.

"I had a sister... once."

He deleted the words before he had sent them. No need to bother Gloomurai with a sob story from his life that happened centuries ago. Little did he know that the stranger on the other side of the screen understood all about the struggle of losing a sibling.

Yes, Night Raven College was full of new beginnings for Malleus and his family. But it was the way of the world that nothing could truly last forever, tragic and unfair as it was. Nothing stops another day. Not even a sleeping curse or an overblot dragon. The spell laid waste to Sage's Island, and although the damage was way less than it could have been, the aftermath of it could still be seen everywhere one looked. Malleus felt ashamed of what he had done and Lilia was reminded of scenes from the war long ago.

But everyone joined together to help and rebuild what had been destroyed. Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy. Fairies and Humans.

"Seems as though we avoided the worst case, huh?", Lilia mused as he noticed Queen Maleficia, the dragon fairy who had raised him since he was a baby, standing next to him. The queen nodded and noted what a bureaucratical nightmare this whole ordeal would be despite all.

Lilia looked at the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. The fae who had come to the island to break through the spell and fight against Malleus's overblot were now helping the locals rebuild their houses with magic. The students would hand out meals to everyone who helped. The citizens were already planting new seeds in place of the trees and fields that had been destroyed. They would one day grow into an idyllic image of a peaceful home. Just as Malleus and Silver had grown into formidable people. The young prince had fallen further than he ever did before, but now the old general was certain that he could stand on his own feet at last. Both of his sons could. And the bat fae was glad that he could depart knowing this much.

"It seems the children of man truly know no rest when it comes to progress", the queen remarked, looking at the humans who fixed the fields beside the village and the fae soldiers who were assisting them.

"It appears so"

"What are they planting?"

Lilia looked at the rising sun, remembering the faith that Princess Mallenoa once had; that mankind and fae would one day live in peace and help each other grow. He had called it foolish at the time, mocking his sister's words by calling them a fever dream. Yet this was just another way in which she had changed his world, just as the little prince he raised had been. There was a smile on his face as he thought about how this day might just mark the beginning of the future the princess had envisioned.

"Hope."

[blacklegsanjiii]

Ohhh!!! I hadn’t known about the vivre card.. that’s so good. Them slowly learning emotions is just as interesting.

I can only imagine 124ji get told to be careful around Sanji as early as possible because once they start roughhousing, it’s stuff that can break his bones no sweat, and they kind of need a framework to not crack their brother in half by accident. But they internalize it a little too hard. All they take away is that Sanji is FRAIL in general, and the idea that they are fundamentally different. Not in a negative way, but they start clinging to him and stopping him from doing things because they don’t have a gauge for what’s safe for him, just that they three are a lot tougher than him and thus they extrapolate They should be the ones doing things. When they’re very young it’s not for any particular reason, they haven’t really gotten there in terms of learning empathy. So it’s for some stupid reason, like them having come in a set of four and it being kind of awkward if they lost their third.

Sora and Mihawk have a hell of a time trying to correct that behavior because that wasn’t what they wanted the kids to take from it at all, but at least it’s better than the alternative, and eventually they get it to stop for a while… up until they start learning some emotions and identifying the ones they have, even if they’re muted.

They figure out they love their brother. They love the rest of their family, too, but they’ve never been presented to them as frail the way Sanji was. So they start doing the clinging again because they figured out that with this realization that they love him, the idea of ever losing him or having him be out of commission just becomes unsettling and uncomfortable. And this time Sanji is the one who gets them to stop— he wants to be independent, damnit!

By the time they’re adults it’s mostly gone away, but it’s an old habits die hard thing. There’s all these little movements and gestures they do when Sanji’s around that indicate they want to, but they’re holding themselves back. They get that their brother is now strong, maybe even as strong as them even if he doesn’t have an exoskeleton, and he’s competent and happy and does things on his own no issue, but the instinct remains.

(ALSO SORRY THIS ASK IS SO LONG!!! I’m a writer in my own right, and your stuff inspires me a bunch at times -v-)’’ )

NO PLEASE THAT MEANS SO MUCH DON"T APOLOGIZE!!! I AM SO FUCKING HONORED???

So 124ji, for as long as they can remember being corrected from climbing on Sanji or hitting him or kicking him. Sanji cries when they do it but they don't. They don't get it for the first few explanations that Sanji is softer than them, not as sturdy. So 124ji are confused because why is Sanji so frail? They're all the same! Except Sanji has a picture like Mama and Papa but his isn't colorful. It's pretty though! So they start internalizing Sanji being frail and fragile. So they start not letting Sanji do things. If they hear any chastisements from their parents they don't let Sanji do those things anymore. Cracking eggs with Papa? Nope! Climbing to sit on the back of the chair or whatever? Not allowed! They're a set and you can't break the set!

Sora and Mihawk are staring at them in amusement but also knowing they fucked up with the corrections because they won't let Sanji be independent. The little blond is suddenly at the back of the line the kids travel in. He's not allowed to be in the water because he might drown, despite the fact they can all drown-bath time is such a struggle now. It was only because Sanji had waded a tad to deep on the beach without him or Sora or Reiju and now the three of them are telling Sanji he can't take a bath and Sanji is getting upset and looking at Mihawk with teary eyes. So Mihawk bathes those three, drops them off with Sora and Reiju and then bathes Sanji because lord have mercy he has four boys and Reiju's just as bad.

They do eventually correct the corrections so Sanji can be wild and free and cook. It took a while but they're lovely kids, really. They swear. They have their challenges but it's good. Mihawk never thought he would have a family this big so it's nice and he has Sora, something else he never thought he would be able to say. The fact that some nights Mihawk and Sora are pulled into the library with all the blankets and pillows the kids can find and a fort made big enough for them all.

And when they're older and learning emotions? They learn they love their brother and fall back into old habits. Especially when they learn that Sanji is the only one of them with a soulmate. So they have to protect him if someone out there is going to love their brother as much as they do. They all doubt Sanji's soulmate will BUT the point remains! So they fall back into their old habits, if Sanji gets sick they're the ones taking care of him. Any knicks, or cuts or scrapes or anything they bandage. It's almost like they're developing anxiety over but Sanji keeps insisting he can take care of himself. He starts refusing their help and being coddled by them. So they start letting him and living with that unsettling feeling but as they get older it gets less and less, easier to deal with. Sanji knows they love him, even if he is different.

When Sanji goes to work and then joins the crew and it's nice to breathe and fight and have equal matches to him and Sanji loves his Nakama he does. Eventually though, probably post timeskip. The crew is astonished at Mihawk because he's so fundamentally different with five kids and a soulmark he doesn't hide. 124ji are all over their brother as Reiju watches softly and points it out to their mom. They're being good when Zoro and Sanji fight and Luffy flings himself into the blond. Half steps taken then back tracked, jolts of hands that can't decide where to be. The brothers have worked hard okay? They know he's capable and have read the news.

Then the tips of Sanji's soulmark peak above the collar of his shirt, and Niji, loving Niji, sees it's not just an outline but can't tell if it's greyed out or not demands Sanji to take his shirt off so they can see. They're back to being all over the cook as the crew watches.

[stardustedstories]

Stan when he sees both Eda and Raine:

@nerdynanny

[quitealotofsodapop]

actually now that you mention guanyin was in the delivery room and she's Wukong's mom's reincarnation, (in slow boiled and jttw stone egged I think...)

I'm curious of her reaction to mac's disa- and reappearance

Even without the reincarnation connection, I'm curious as to how she feels about her lil brother figure/son figure's mate who has yes, suffered at the hands of her little one's arrogance but has also abandoned him in his time of need without contact for the entire duration of his imprisonment

(even under the influence of the brotherhood, he was ironically saying wukong always fled and never stayed for anyone before left without ever coming back despite that being a perfect opportunity to understand or at least get answers, ie he couldn't run away, he could've snuck out if they were close enough to be considered married and he really valued their relationship)

just think it might be a wee bit awkward in the delivery room and aftermath

and on that note, that reaction would probably be exastrabated in the au when mac leaves twice and risked missing the birth of his child

also wondering what would it be like if mac did actually miss his kid's birth, be spending a few centuries on the couch probably

(also really gross but how do the cubs get...out? Like do they shart out a stone egg or a live child...or is there like a magic beam of light and magic shenanigans happen or is it like normal human birth with Wukong, cause I saw ur ao3 and u headcannon trans swk and u mentioned Xi wang mu helping somehow and she's a godess of childbirth, but how does Mac do it then, gosh just thinking about it is terrifying, you don't have to answer if you don't want to)

Basically any au where Guanyin is present for Shadowpeach nonsense, she's glaring at both of them for their poor communication. But she especially glares threateningly at Mac for abandoning Wukong after their break-up under the mountain + his sudden disappearance in Post Jttw Stone Egged au.

Only reason Guanyin isn't punching Macaque with her thousand fists the next time she sees him is because she's got a job to do (tend to her brother/son-figure + his baby) and because Macaque dying (again) would make Wukong sad.

In an older post I mentioned; Stone Monkey babies exit their parent as Eggs. Its a mineral bonus layer of protection. There's mostly regular primate foetal-development going on; its just that there is a shell around the amnionac sac. Once its Go Time; the Cub pops out still in-shell with the cord detaching (imprint of cord leaves a spiral shape on the shell like how MK busted out of DBK's generator) at some point. Unless the shell cracks at some point during labor then it looks like super messy regular primate birth with bits of shell mixed in (gross). Often the baby monkey is "lazy" and hangs out on the outside in their shell for a day or two - nothing wrong, still enough nutrients/dao inside for a bit.

As for where it comes out; demons/celestials don't conform to regular sexual dimorphism - their sexes are roughly divided in tge Eight Trigrams. Wukong is Kūn/All Yin so his default is afab. Mac has a harder time since he's Xùn (2 parts male, 1 part female) so he needs some magic assist to deliver.

[kittyball23]

Baby Branch (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: A flashback to when Baby Branch first meets his brothers

A/N: Requested by JoltJackalope on Wattpad 🙂

__________________________________________

SNAP!

Floyd jerked his head back, startled, and glanced down at the broken pencil tip that was now against the paper of his journal. That was weird. With how much song lyric ideas he wrote or other thoughts in general that he jotted down, a broken pencil tip was a common occurrence for him. But he wasn't sure why the sound of the break was a bit more surprising this time around. There had been something different about it – it'd been louder, more pronounced and abrupt than times before. But... why?

SNAP!

He heard the sound again, and the magenta-haired Trolling blinked. Clearly, that sound hadn't been his pencil. Nor was it his older brothers, who were busy on the other side of the room starting to practice a new dance routine. He peered around the room, coming to realize with an overwhelming sense of joy that it had come from the small, pastel blue egg that was cushioned inside the room's new crib. He quickly thrust his journal down and darted over to his brothers.

"Guys, guys, guys!" He shook their shoulders, earning a look from John Dory.

"Bro, can't you see we're a little bit busy?" the teal Trolling said, trying not to sound too annoyed.

Floyd shook his head. "No, no, you don't understand, look!" He pointed to the crib, where the egg was now sporting several long cracks on its surface. A look of understanding flashed across John Dory's face, mirrored by Spruce and Clay, and the three brothers scrambled to their feet and followed Floyd over to the crib. Eager smiles graced their lips, hands clasped together, a bounce in their feet and sparkles in their eyes.

"Oh! I've been waiting for this for such a long time!" Floyd exclaimed, barely able to stand still. And it was true. Not that he didn't like being the youngest thus far, but it did grow tiresome at some point to be treated like a baby.

Spruce smirked. "Well, I'm going to be his favorite," he said confidently. "Once I teach him how to make the ladies swoon, he'll thank me for life!"

Clay rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I'm going to be his favorite, guaranteed!"

The purple-haired Trolling scoffed in astonishment. "You? You're probably gonna switch his baby formula for hot sauce the first chance you get!"

Clay suddenly got a very guilty look. "Err... well...even if you were right – which I'm not going to say whether you are or not – what's wrong with a little fun now and then?"

"If that little 'fun' gets you damaged vocal cords, I think that there is something wrong," John Dory pitched in, favoring Spruce. Before Clay could think up a comeback, another loud SNAP resounded, and another long crack formed on the egg. The brothers held their breaths as the broken part of the shell began to break through, as though something was pushing it from the inside. That something being a little blue hand that poked its way out in that next second. Delighted gasps began making their rounds through the brothers when a second hand shoved through the eggshell, and out from the egg popped up a little blue head topped with a long tuft of deep blue hair. The boys couldn't help but gush.

"Ohh! He's a looker, that's for sure!" Spruce exclaimed.

"He's got the looks, but can he sing?" John Dory questioned half-heartedly, more focused on his baby brother's huge, adorable eyes.

Clay thrust his hand out to Branch. "Welcome to the band, little man!" Branch reached out, ready to give out his first high-five ever, when Clay pulled back at the last second.

"Oh! Too slow!"

Rather than cry, Branch looked surprised, and then he frowned.

Spruce gave him a look. "And you said that you'd be the favorite brother," he muttered.

Still, the boys did end up hearing sniffles indicating a sob, though it wasn't from the baby. They peered over and found Floyd with his bottom lip trembling and his eyes glassy.

"Floyd?" John Dory asked.

"Sorry, guys," he said, his gaze fixed on Branch. "He's just so... so... precious!" With that, the magenta-haired Trolling burst into happy tears, which streaked down his cheeks. The other brothers sighed in unison, an occurrence like this one having happened plenty of times before.

"Oh, Floyd..."

Baby Branch however, having only just met Floyd, didn't know that he often got emotional, so he thought that something was wrong. In an attempt to offer condolence, he crawled over to the edge of the crib and reached his little arms out, grasping them around Floyd's closest arm and giving it a hug. It made the magenta-haired Troll bawl even harder, a smile on his face as he returned the hug gratefully.

Moved by the sight of the pair, John Dory, Spruce, and Clay went over to and wrapped their arms around them too, the bros joining in for their first full group hug with little Branch, the little baby happy to be surrounded by a nice, big, loving family.

__________________________________________

A/N: If there's a flashback like this in the movie, which of the boys do you think should be having it?

[naughtybg3confessions]

(Not a confession.) I've been working out submissions for the trans day, and there was also an interesting discussion on the topic on r/okbuddybaldur, and I've been wondering - where do you think the line is drawn between 'naughty confessions' and 'fetishization'? I'm trans (transmasc-leaning NB), I have trans hcs, many of them are smutty, I find them hot, trans people ARE hot! We are! But is there a point where it just becomes fetishistic?

Related, what about stereotyping? Tall, buff transfem Karlach, or slender, pretty transmasc Astarion, for instance (which I genuinely do love, especially together). Questionable if you're ONLY going with the more stereotypical view (ie. 'Shadowheart is small and fem and definitely cis, Karlach is tall and butch and definitely trans'), or questionable at any time?

(Relatedly, this comes up in the discussion on Reddit - someone shared their frustration with always seeing Aylin as trans and Isobel as cis, and shared their frankly incredible trans Isobel headcanon.)

Not at all trying to start Disk Horse or anything, just a trans fan writing up submissions and overthinking things. Have an excellent day!

Well let me start by saying that I'm cis, and not exactly an authority on this subject. I have no magical way of knowing where all our confessions are coming from, but I do have some safeguards in place to reduce harm.

First of all, confessions that fetishize real life groups of people are strictly not allowed in our rules. It's up to my own discernment (and that of our followers) what constitutes that, but generally any use of slurs or reinforcing negative stereotypes is a clear tip off. If someone is making trans folk out to be freaks or fetishizing things about them that belittle their gender identity, that's obviously a no go. But so far, no one has said that. There was one confession sexualizing dysphoria that towed the line for me, but my gut told me the submitter was trans themselves and simply had a humiliation kink. Which they later confirmed!

Not speaking for the fandom at large, but on this blog at least it seems like all the characters are "transed" pretty much equally, from Shadowheart to Halsin. With the exception of Gortash, who seems to get the lion's share of those confessions, but that doesn't ring any alarm bells to me.

I certainly wouldn't want to disallow trans hcs for any particular character. After all, it is a fact of life that some cis women are big and tall, and so are some trans women. Should they be excluded from being found attractive just because of a few bad eggs? But I'm always happy to see more variety, thought, and creativity put into confessions overall. Y'all are certainly encouraged to break the mold around here.

I do my best to use my best judgement in moderating confessions so that everyone feels safe and welcome here. But I'm not perfect, so if anything ever slips through the cracks I won't hesitate to listen to our trans followers, remove the confession and learn from the experience. Should that ever happen, I may ask the anon to clarify their intentions as well, as sometimes people just phrase things unintentionally poorly (Hanlon's razor and all that).

Anyways, I hope that answer was satisfactory, it's an interesting and nuanced topic to be sure. And I bid thee an excellent day as well!

[bonefall]

Is there anything you wish that you could add into BB but can’t? Whether it’s just that it doesn’t work the BB’s themes or plot or that it deviates too far from canon?

Lots, honestly. If I ever did "sand off the serial numbers" I would do a ton of things.

Hollyleaf's Century would have waaaay bigger and more devastating consequences for the entire island. Not just the lake society. All of Albion would have been badly affected.

I've always been really fond of the idea that you first come into this world, assume it's pretty straightforward "oh! Cats in the woods! Simple enough!" And then slowly the lore reveals itself to be like "ARCHIMEDES' CAT SUCCESSFULLY INVENTED LAZER BEAMS ERGO THE ROMANS NEVER STARTED A CONQUEST OF NORTHERN EUROPE"

Im just incredibly fond of lore that looks basic when you're first introduced to it, slowly drops wilder and wilder shit, and refuses to ever engage with it lmaooo

Lots more name changes, more honor titles, etc

I would start tossing in OCs. I like the limitation I work with right now, it's a fun challenge, but I would be padding out allegiances significantly

Populations would get bigger, with more emphasis on Family rather than Individual. I would begin to give major bloodlines their own insignias.

Identifying with these insignias would be something cats grapple with. Everyone in Tigerstar's family, for example, would consider if they want to jump into their mate's families and modify their insignias or wear them with pride

A lot more would go into "aesthetic" production. Flax, leather, the fashion styles between the different Clans.

I'd mess around with more altars and hidden places where various cats go to worship.

For example I would LOVE to have a "dark library" which contains a lot of Ripplestar's strategies and battle plans, buried in the bog, that Runningnose uncovers through his channeling and Brokenstar goes to learn from

More magic stuff in general, a lot of it going back to Hollyleaf's Century. More types of curses and monsters, some of them just kinda showing up at times.

The ecology of Albion would be a bit wilder. Feral cattle, wild dogs, and horses, nothing too drastic.

Researchers would remain I love those guys. Might make some special "field guides" which are humorous journal entries and such. Occasionally they drop hints at the iceberg lore like, "this reminds me of the Great Egg Scramble of '24."

They'd mention some of the magic stuff and explain that humans have had a hard time researching it scientifically. Like Quantum Physics it doesn't like to work the same way when you observe it directly.

One of their specialists has a PHD in Alchemy or something like that

SkyClan would do a LOT more in the suburbs. Like, I would explicitly start working suburban foraging into their culture instead of just the occasional stealing they do.

Been thinking a lot about the boundaries between natural and urban spaces and how maybe it works best to challenge that "boundary" completely. SkyClan seeing itself in the dandelions that sprout between cracks in the pavement. Do you understand

I'd start adding in more spaces for people to break off from "canon." Like saying that sometimes the researchers capture "breakaway" groups to introduce them to other areas, sometimes they hop on trains and spread around Albion. Fanwork Gaps.

[turbulentscrawl]

I just read the luca with a modern reader and it was so nice! Could we get a modern reader with Andrew?

heck yeah you can!

-Andrew is a tougher cookie to crack on this one because he acts like he super does not give a fuck. But, er, he acts like he doesn’t give a fuck about a lot of things. That’s kind of his go-to for new arrivals. He’ll do a bit of mocking maybe, but otherwise he just observes them, scowling, trying to judge their character from a distance.

-Your saving grace is how the other people in the manor will react to your arrival. Because, while there are some good eggs like Luca, there’s obviously going to be some extra distrust and apprehension around someone from a whole different era. You have very different educations, mindsets, opinions…things like that would get people labeled as a heretic or witch in most of these peoples’ times. If Andrew sees you being treated like you’ve already done something wrong just by existing, it endears him to you just a tiny bit. Just enough to give you an opening.

-Maybe someone says something to you at dinner—we all know Andrew’s sensitive to the word “monster”—or heaven forbid even breaks something that got brought along from home. Well, obviously you’d be upset. And Andrew can’t resist taking offense on your behalf. He’s not likely to do anything for you in the moment, but he makes a mental note. And the next time you see Andrew alone, even just passing each other in the hall, he’s…nice? Nice for Andrew’s standards, anyway.

-And after that he seems to curb with attitude with you more. It’s still a bit of a stretch to call him friendly, but it’s clear he’s making some effort towards correcting that. He stands by you more, sits near you at meals, close enough that he can hear you whenever you talk even if you’re quiet. He doesn’t say much himself, but the eye contact has to count for something! He’s listening, even if no one else is.

-After a bit, he takes some interest in your phone. It’s a really big leap in technology for him, so don’t expect much in the way of understanding from him. Teaching Andrew cellphone terminology is ten times worse than teaching your grandma how to send an email. But, uh, he thinks your magic rectangle is…nifty? Definitely not monster-ish at all.

-If you have media saved to your phone, 85% of the time he’s not a fan. He doesn’t understand modern humor at all, thinks animated shows look weird, and so much of our culture in general is overstimulating to him. Some of the music is alright, though. The calming stuff. Low-Fay? Is that it?? He thinks texting seems very handy, too, and would nose through old conversations with your friends and family if you gave him half a chance. Yes, it’s kind of an invasion of privacy, but it helps him feel a little more connected to you, to the life you had. If you ever express sadness at not being able to text anymore, he’ll take a page from Victor (baddumtss) and start slipping you written notes more often. That’s a little like texting, isn’t it? Wick is pretty fast on the delivery, too.

-He likes to use the flashlight on your phone and call Kreacher “obsolete” because fuck that guy.

-If you, for some reason, have light-up shoes…he’s lowkey enamored. Andrew is so used to getting around at night, digging those stupid tunnels despite being claustrophobic, and it’s such a hassle to have to carry a lantern and try to dig at the same time! …but your shoes have lights on them? Ingenious. Just, uh, maybe Luca can make them a little brighter?

-Yoga pants and skin-tight muscle shirts are the bane of his existence. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Are you doing this to him on purpose? Teasing him?? What do you mean that’s normal casual wear??? Put on a cloak!

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 5 - Fed

The rogue enjoys a nice meal, despite the rising, existential dread.

On AO3.

This is the third time he’s tasted her in this way. The first crunch of teeth piercing skin, sliding through muscle. He’s careful not to go too deep—a wrist isn’t a neck, with more tissue and thicker vein walls. He doesn’t want to cripple her hand.

Blood spurts. That first release. It hits the roof of his mouth, slides down the back of his tongue and his throat opens and he cannot help the low sound he makes. It would be embarrassing in any other context; a needy thing. But the monster within him is too focused, already too intoxicated in the taste of her.

Rich, like the memory of cream custard on a spring afternoon. A hint of spice—some hot drink as gray rain patters on windows. Salt and iron, surely. But so much more.

He’s got her arm in both of his hands, now. Lips latched, tongue lapping at the inside of her wrist. He tries to let it fill his mouth, wants to savor the feel of it, the hot slide of a gulp. But he’s too impatient. He needs this in his belly, needs it inside of him now.

He catches a sour tang: her fear. Not of him, he thinks, but of this cave. Of the Absolute and the gith and their uninvited cranial guests. And something else, something old woven all through her veins.

Beyond that, there’s her breakfast that morning: toasted bread with peppered eggs, her delight at slitting the yolk open and letting it run over her toast and the rich flavor as she chewed. There’s the scent of woodsmoke and the heat of roasted venison. Flesh tearing between her teeth and the grease she licked off her fingers lest it go to waste. The warm contentment of a full belly and a cool night. Laying on her bedroll and staring up at unfamiliar stars.

The acidity of sorrow.

He suckles as gently as he can. Pulling too hard hurts her, and he doesn’t want that. Gods, but it is a glorious temptation. Draw her in, draw in all that life. Suck it right out of her until it fills him, until he’s drowning in it, stuffed full and fit to burst—

A tap on his shoulder. Her captive hand flexes.

“I think that’s enough,” she says.

Oh, but it’s not. He could seat himself at the bottom of a river made of her blood and open his mouth and let it gush into him until he drained the whole of it, and it would never be enough.

But she doesn’t have a sea of blood within her. And he rather needs her alive if he ever wants to indulge again.

So he breaks off. Laps at the rivulets still so eager to be taken by him. Tongue at one of her punctures, feels the shape of it—he wants to jam the tip of his tongue into it, rip it wide open—

She hisses. He forces himself to pull away. She’s ready with a cloth bandage; of course she is. He takes over clamping it down. Needs that pretty wrist to seal itself back up. Seal off that delectable blood so she can make more. So he can feast upon her again.

“Did it help?” she says as they sit there, her wrist held tightly in his hands.

He’s kept his lids shut tight. Didn’t want to sour the experience should it not…

But now it’s time. He needs to know.

He cracks one eye open.

To utter blackness.

Both eyes open and it’s the same. Nothing. No light. No shape or colors, not even the miserable gray shades of his cursed nightvision. Just the deepest black he can imagine.

“No, it didn’t work,” he says. He’d fling her arm away if he wasn’t trying to stop her bleeding everywhere.

“What the fuck,” she says.

Indeed.

The panic turns sharp, claws digging out through his abdomen, climbing up his throat and he doesn’t need to breathe, but still he’s choked. He’s blinded. Left in the dark forever. Hideously underground, trapped and forever and he can’t claw through the walls, can’t even depend upon the tender mercies of his master—

“Astarion?”

Their leader. She’s here. He’s squeezing her too tightly, and he forces his grip to loosen. Clears his throat. “Yes?”

Her free hand touches his shoulder. Though “touch” is a generous description. It’s barely more than a pluck of his padded armor.

“We’re gonna figure this out,” she says.

Shit. He smooths his expression back to calm. Can’t go around wearing his weaknesses for anyone to see.

“Gale thinks it might be some kinda curse, and I know I can’t do magic stuff—”

“You do realize you’re making this worse, yes?” he says because he cannot stop himself. The fear is too great to contain. So rather than crumple before her, he does what he usually does to anyone not above him and opens that pressure valve to blast her instead. “You’re incapable of doing a thing about it, and we’re gods know how far from anyone who can. So spare me your reassurances. We’re both useless and we both know it.”

She says nothing. Hardly moves, save for a flex of the hand he still holds captive.

“The Underdark might be fun if I could bloody see, but now the both of us are going to die in some gruesome manner.”

While she continues to sit quietly, he feels her pulse pick up between his hands. Yet her voice is a forced calm when she says, “Gale seems to think there’s a network of them waypoints down here. All we gotta do is find one. Just one.”

“Because that’s likely.”

“Would you rather sit here and starve to death?”

She doesn’t understand. She can’t understand. He’s done this before. Curled into a ball in a dark, cold corner as his flesh mummified around his bones. How those bones cracked and chipped at the slightest movement as his mind cracked and chipped, but never sank into oblivion. He lay there for tendays, for months as his eyes withered into useless, wrinkled things like dried fruit. As his gums pulled back and his skin eventually cracked open, with only the stink of his own flesh for company.

“And you’ll have us do what, exactly?” he says. Sneers, if he’s being honest.

But their illustrious leader doesn’t lash back. Doesn’t belittle him or snap at him. Doesn’t strike him or choke him or command him to kneel and prepare for punishment.

He almost wishes she would. Because that he knows. His mind knows the paths to exit the immediate area, knows how to fade away and wait until it’s over. Instead, he has to sit here, still holding her arm while she churns things up inside him that he left long, long buried in two hundred years of rotting detritus.

“I will do my best to get us the fuck outta this tunnel,” she says. “And then I will do my best not to lead us into a crevasse or some kinda ambush and to find one single, goddamned motherfucking waypoint stone.”

Even her swearing isn’t angry. Not aimed at him. She just…just uses it as a vulgar garnish for her calm, steady words.

The woman is infuriating.

“Will you?” he says, all bladed tongue.

“Unless you got a better idea?”

Which… “settle in and wait for death” isn’t an actual idea and he pointedly doesn’t want to waste away down here, thank you very much.

He can feel her gloat.

“At the moment, no,” he says.

“Alright.” She’s so very good at not letting the gloat he knows she feels seep into her voice. Always acts like she’s listening to everyone. Even him. That she’s genuinely open to one of his silly ideas.

Ideas she…actually incorporates into her plans for some reason he can’t even begin to decipher.

Because she’s clever like that and she’s better at the game than he initially gave her credit for.

“Well, as we’re in a tunnel, which way shall we go?” he says.

She hums. The tadpole behind his eye squirms as she reaches out—not to him, but to the others.

“That way, I think,” she says after a pause.

And likely points, because that is helpful to a blind man. But then she does something. Taps the wall behind him with her staff, and then tugs his sleeve until he releases her wrist (the blood scent is weak and fading; she must finally be clotting).

She holds her other arm out, and he realizes she points his arm in the direction she intends to go. She’s used the sound on the wall to orient him, and he begrudgingly lets himself feel the first slither of relief.

It’s not towards the boulder field.

“The ground here is cracked to hell,” she says. “And there’s big rocks all over, looks like chunks fell off the walls and roof a long time ago. They’re all worn smooth around the edges. I’m thinking you give me that torch, and you take my hitting stick, and you can use it to feel the ground ahead of you a bit?”

She’s not going to leave him. She’s taking him with her and handing over her only weapon. Just so he can use it as a prop.

“And…” She pauses again. “You got rope in your pack, right?”

He does. Plenty of it, in fact. She’s not the only one who likes to stuff her pockets with more than the standard valuables.

“I was thinking we tie ourselves together. So we, y’know, don’t get separated somehow?”

He cannot fathom what her play is, here. He’s not valuable enough to keep as an ally now. Certainly not one for this level of investment. Should one of them fall down a crevasse or be snatched up by something lurking in the dark, the other one will be at risk themself. He’s not sleeping with her, can’t use his superior vision to scout ahead or even see an enemy to strike, and he’s just taken enough blood from her that he can catch the slow, deep inhales she takes now and again (she must be dizzy).

He’s a liability. Yet she’s treating him like an asset. Like there’s something he can do for her and she’s yet to name it.

He saw things when their tadpoles connected. She truly doesn’t want to have sex with him. She had such a visceral reaction to it, and he doesn’t think that’s changed overmuch in the last tenday or so.

But then, what else could she want? What kind of alliance could this even be?

Damned alien yokel.

“Lead on, then,” he says. He’ll just have to find another way to ingratiate himself to her. Find something he can provide her.

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