#✯ [ answered // completed requests ]

[save-the-villainous-cat]

may I request a really really really smart villain. but somehow the hero manages to outsmart them, and even though villain is completely dumbfounded, they find it incredibly hot???

gl, if you wish, but im fine with anything !!

“You’re scared,” the villain whispered. “I know what that feels like. I know what it can do to a person.”

Their fingertips traced the hero’s clavicle gently, as if they attempted to calm a startled deer by stoking it.

“It’s not a pleasant emotion. It certainly isn’t one anyone should be used to. So I’m curious, do you need my help?” the villain said. Their eyes scanned the hero curiously. Almost as if they could absorb everything about them just by looking at them.

Something about the hero seemed to pull them in, something seemed to fascinate them on a grand scale and the hero couldn’t tell if they loved the challenge or the attention.

“Would you mind?” the hero asked. They nodded towards the villain’s fingers on their body and clearly, the villain received their message. They pulled away and smiled. Curiosity seemed to be their big weakness.

“I apologise, of course. I’m fond of pretty things.”

“As every crow is.”

“That’s a compliment.” The hero didn’t answer. They knew the villain was toying with them; they were fully aware of their sweet words and their kind smile.

The villain wasn’t easy to understand and that was a big problem in this whole mess. Incompetent people proposed a threat to the city because of their lack of intelligence. They weren’t easy to understand, they were unpredictable.

Usually, the hero could argue with smart people, could get into their minds and understand their motives but the villain was a complete minefield. Their unpredictability came from several unrelated plans that intertwined and altogether made up a whole picture.

They were ten steps ahead. Always.

Suddenly, a missing professor, a burning bakery, a sick child and a stolen book were parts of a chain that would make sense to the hero much, much later. Ordinary things could play huge parts in these reaction chains, something they liked to call “controlled butterfly effect”. It made the hero think of all the details, all the little crimes in the city. It made them overanalyse every little conversation they had with the villain.

Was the villain giving them clues?

Was there a way to decipher these riddles?

How could anyone be at ten different places at the same time?

How was it possible to get information you’d have to torture out of people without actually talking to anyone at all?

“I’ll have to change my address for the third time this month,” the hero said. “You should apologise for that as well.”

“It’s not my fault you make it so easy for me.” The villain looked around the hero’s living room and in some weird and strange way, the hero felt superior to them, now that everything was done. It would’ve been foolish to say they were relieved. In fact, the villain was right. They were terrified. “New choice of plants, I see. You like orchids?”

“Why exactly are you here?” the hero asked. They assumed the villain knew about yesterday. They also assumed the villain was here to talk about that. “So you can make fun of me? Humiliate me in my own home?”

“Without an audience? Please, I thought you knew me.” The villain’s eyes found the hero’s again after what they deemed to be enough observation.

“You like it more intimate. You like it when it’s just us.” Now, the villain looked intrigued.

“Touché,” they said, almost as if the hero had defeated them with a single word. The hero wished it had been that easy.

“Again. Why are you here?” The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest. It was getting quite chilly in just a shirt and underwear.

In response, the villain took in a deep breath and sat down on the hero’s couch. They lounged.

“When Hannibal crossed the Alps, do you think he was scared? I mean, all that responsibility on his shoulders? It was dangerous, he could’ve lost his entire army.”

“Is this supposed to be some metaphor for me being Hannibal and you being…what? The Roman Republic?” the hero asked. Sometimes, it was laughable where the villain’s mind went. It was hard enough to keep up with them already but the amount of knowledge the hero acquired from talking to them alone was insane.

It was the type of learning experience that required failing repeatedly to get to the answer. The hero didn’t enjoy it.

But the villain only chuckled.

“I was trying to say that being determined and scared can coexist. You did something that demands great courage.” They tilted their head. “And yet, it is a very scary thing.”

With slow steps, the hero approached them until they were close enough. They sat down on the villain’s lap. Unsurprisingly, their nemesis didn’t protest.

They weren’t proud of what had happened, they weren’t proud of what they’d done.

“How can a person obtain information no one dares to whisper?” the hero asked. “How can that person receive it within seconds?”

“You tell me,” the villain said. An invitation. It would’ve been illogical to decline.

“You had two helpers. Someone who can teleport. Someone who can turn invisible. I don’t know how you convinced them but they were heroes once.”

The villain nodded.

“The Romans had to learn the hard way how important spies are. They learnt it from the Carthaginian. Like I learnt from you years ago,” the villain said. It was difficult to imagine that all this was the hero’s fault. “Now, tell me what you did when you found out.”

The hero was quiet until the villain’s palm brushed their thigh softly. The villain seemed unfittingly euphoric.

“I knew they wouldn’t be easy to keep in a cell.”

“So?”

“So I killed them.” The villain nodded.

“You killed them,” the villain agreed. “Did you know crows wait for other predators to tear open their prey?”

The hero waited. The villain wasn’t angry. They were fascinated. It hadn’t even occurred to the hero that this was the solution up until yesterday.

And still, even though this was a major success when it came to stopping the villain, it wasn’t satisfactory. Killing two of their own people hadn’t been pretty.

“Did you know curiosity killed the cat?” the hero asked back. Behind their back, they clenched their fist to stop their hand from shaking.

Within seconds, several red laser dots pointed at the villain. With the hero on their lap, pressing them into the couch, there wasn’t anywhere to go. The sharpshooters wouldn’t let the villain move a muscle.

And behind the shocked expression, the hero saw something they weren’t sure if they loathed or liked: a certain admiration for only them.

[emeritusemeritus]

I have a request for you if it’s all right! May I please request a George Weasley x muggle girlfriend reader where they met while in a muggle park, and have been dating ever since? They have been bf and gf for a couple years now, and have managed to keep it a secret from everyone besides Fred, who is the only one who knows of George’s muggle gf’s existence. Now the Yule Ball is going to happen soon, and there’s no one else in the world that George would rather bring than his sweet girlfriend… Problem being that she’s a muggle and the Yule Ball is at Hogwarts. Him and Fred devise a plan to sneak Y/n into Hogwarts to go to the dance with George, and it’s all going well until Dumbledore catching a very muggle Y/n giggling with her wizard Bf George as they start to dance at the ball.

The couple would be panicked at first, thinking Dumbledore will Obliviate Y/n, but he just raises his eyebrows, winks at the couple, and lets them go on their merry way😂

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for this request, I had a lot of fun writing it and I’m so very sorry it took so long to post. Hope you are well and I did your idea justice 🖤

Cool Yule

Warnings: None really? Muggle!Reader x George Weasley. Slight angst in parts, troublemaking, we’re ignoring the international statue of secrecy completely. Multiple Disney references, references to soulmates but no actual discussion. Dumbledore is the GOAT. Probably spelling and grammar errors but I’m way too lazy to check again.

Word count: 3.1k (I got carried away, I blame the long hair)

Your boyfriend was a wizard.

An actual, honest to god, spell casting wizard with a magic wand, who attended a school for other magic users.

That was a sentence you'd never been able to say out loud since meeting George Weasley all those years ago, a secret you could never divulge to anyone and probably never could. You'd fallen for the sweet, ginger boy in the handmade knitted jumper all those years ago at the park that you'd accidentally barrelled into, dizzy from the swings and the laughter. He'd been kind, thoughtful and unbelievably gorgeous, three qualities of his that had only grown and developed with time.

His world was different to yours, a little behind and archaic in it's methods overall but it seemed quaint and sweet. He didn't have any understanding of technology and the only way to communicate was via letters that often arrived via an unreliable owl, a novelty that never wore off even after years of correspondence. You'd meet at the park nearly everyday during the summer when he was home from his boarding school, with your relationship quickly developing into a love story even the cheesiest Rom-coms couldn't portray accurately.

The downside, was that your relationship had to remain a secret. He didn't care that you were a 'muggle', his world's word for a non-magic person and was certain that his family wouldn't be displeased by it but admitting your relationship on your end would only bring on an account slaughter of questions that you couldn't answer. You weren't technically allowed to know about his magic use but George being the sweet boy he was, couldn't keep a secret from you any longer, feeling as if he was deceiving you somehow.

He also couldn't keep the secret from his twin brother Fred, unable to avoid the knowing looks and incessant questioning he was receiving from his perceptive twin. Fred was the only person in the world that knew about you and George's relationship, but he became a valuable ally who often covered for George to allow you both to meet. You'd never actually met Fred, though you'd heard many, many tales from George about their shenanigans, home life and future plans, it was like you knew him already.

Everything was going brilliantly between you both until his sixth year at the school, when you received the first letter from him since he went back to school.

He'd excitedly told you all about the Tri-Wizard competition and the two other magic schools that had joined together in the championship to compete. He'd told you of how he was frustratingly below the age restriction but that he and Fred were devising a plan to sidestep around the rules, as per usual, to put their names in for the chance to compete. But then he mentioned the Yule Ball, a great gathering between the three schools on Christmas Day that would be somewhat of a dance. He told you about his younger brother Ron's complete inability to find a date and Fred's ease at scoring one of the 'better' choices in their friend Angelina. He hasn't mentioned a date for himself but had joked about a lad called Neville that would probably end up going alone with a disparaging tone. Was George going to take a date? So not only would you not see him over Christmas break but now you had visions of him dancing the night away with another girl, how festive.

You hadn't replied to his last letter, unable to finish your response whilst your stomach knotted about the discovery of the ball. You couldn't get past the idea of George taking someone as his date, someone more like him, that fit in his world- someone that was everything that you weren't. It was inevitable really, your relationship breaking down due to the overwhelming differences between your worlds.

When Errol came banging into your window early on the following Saturday morning, giving you an almighty fright, you knew that it could only be a follow up letter from George. You opened your bedroom window and reached out for the heap of feathers that had unceremoniously slid down your window and collapsed into an owl-shaped puddle on your windowsill. You gave him a drink of water and allowed him to rest on your window whilst he lazily pecked at the window frame before he fell asleep.

You opened the letter against your better judgment, secretly wishing it away even as you opened the haphazardly sealed envelope. He was checking that you were okay, that he hadn't messed up the dates with your family's holiday and that you'd received his last letter; knowing Errol it was very likely that it might not have reached its destination.

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes and took a seat at your desk to quickly write a reply, ignoring the other ten drafts you'd started.

"Hi George, sounds like a lot of fun, I hope you have a wonderful time, who's your date? No you were right, we're going away over Christmas. Send my love to Fred as always. Talk soon. Love y/n."

Short, sweet and it got the point across. You looked at the writing, specifically the closing of 'love' but it was an unbroken habit that you instinctively had written- you still loved him so it was hardly a lie.

You gave the letter to Errol, scratching his little fluffy head to wake him up and told him to take it to George- with no rush. He huffed, chirped lightly and off he went with an almighty kick off, almost slipping off the ledge.

George's reply came later than night, though it wasn't Errol that arrived this time but rather an immaculately white owl with piercing brown eyes and a black beak that tapped at your window in an almost human like fashion. You accepted the letter and gave the owl a timid stroke, finding her completely beautiful.

"My sweet girl, why would I take anyone to the Ball when you're the only girl I want? Fred and I have been thinking and there might be a way to sneak you in, if you would accept the invitation? It's dangerous but so, so worth it to see your beautiful face. You'll need a dress of course and I've made a bit of money taking bets against the competitors so I can help out a little but I'm not sure how I'd get it to you or how I'd be able to change it to muggle money. I'd do anything to have you here. Please reply and let me know if you'd be my date. I love you and miss you so very much. Fred sends his love too, he's dying to meet you.

All my love, Georgie."

It took you less than five minutes to decide and to fire off a reply via the beautiful snowy owl.

It would be dangerous yes, but to hear how much George wanted you to be there, to hear the honesty in his words had made you realise how intensely you missed him and that it would all be worth it.

Secretive letters began to arrive, with codes and directions you were to follow. You'd told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to part with a single penny of his money, which you'd found out was a 'knut' in wizarding money. You had a little money saved from your birthday and from some extra chores and had managed to find a nice dress on a shopping spree with your best friend that you thought looked nice in George's favourite colour.

The issue would be slipppng away from your family on Christmas. How the hell would you manage that? As it turned out, it was easier than you thought. A big family Christmas with your siblings, step and half siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins galore meant that there were so many people around that you seemed to slip into the background anyway, a lost sheep amongst the herd. Your older brother knew something was up as soon as you arrived at your granny's house on the 22nd of December, ready to start the festivities. You'd packed your dress, along with the letters from George and the money you'd taken from the now broken piggyback from your childhood.

How you found yourself in a cold, damp tunnel at 7pm on Christmas Day, dressed up to the nines in your new dress was bewildering to you. You'd followed George's instructions exactly as they'd been written, trying not to question the often ridiculous requests that seemed so foreign to you and had inevitably ended up in exactly the right place... or so you hoped. After crawling through the dark and dreary tunnel for some time, you had begun to doubt your abilities and George's intentions, at least for a brief moment. Surely this dark tunnel couldn't lead to the marvellous castle George had described time and time again.

You let out a quiet sigh, heart pounding as you saw a brief flicker of light up ahead and began to panic, thinking you'd be caught. But then you listened, your entire body freezing in fear as your senses heightened.

"I told her to come this way, seemed like the best idea at the time," you hear a muffled voice whisper.

"Oh yeah drag your girlfriend through the darkest tunnel there is," the second, similar voice argues.

"Maybe she decided not to come?"

"Don't think like that mate, she'll be here."

George and Fred. It had to be.

You slowly moved forward, putting the fear behind you as you walk towards the light source and the hushed voices.

"George?" You say timidly, approaching the pair.

"Y/n?" He says, lowering his wand that was illuminated at the end.

The smile that shines from his face is enough for you realise that it had all been very much worth it, even traipsing through the dank tunnel for much longer than you'd have liked.

The castle was just as magnificent as George had made out, maybe ever more so, as he and Fred gave you a quick tour of the magical place. It was decorated with elegance and opulence, with an entire grotto's worth of fairy lights and garlands, though you were certain you'd seen the lights move more than once but didn't question it. Snow covered Christmas trees created a beautiful path throughout the hallways towards what was called the Great Hall. It was a sight to behold with silver tinsel and wall hangings adorning the walls, hanging from high up beams and some even just floating there as if levitating in mid-air. There was a huge ice sculpture in the corner of the room, filled at the base with refreshments and a selection of opulent desserts.

It was all so unbelievably beautiful, but yet it still didn't compare to George.

He wore a long black robe with a bronze coloured waistcoat with little golden stars all over the material, which complimented his fiery red hair in the most wonderful way. His shirt was white with little stripes and a bow tie that was slightly imperfect, only adding to the charm. Fred was wearing a very similar outfit and as you looked between the two, you couldn't believe your luck that you were here to experience this with your beloved.

Fred was incredible, a real jokester just as you'd imagined him but he was polite and very friendly, as was his date Angelina who you'd been briefly introduced to. George had pointed out more people who's names were familiar to you throughout the night but hadn't introduced you, to keep your little secret safe.

You'd danced and spun for what seemed like hours, the brightest smile beaming across your face as you giggled and laughed the entire time. Fred had taken over and had spun you around like you weighed as much as a feather, before he'd dutifully handed you back to your boyfriend with a cheeky wink. The music had suddenly slowed and a very romantic song came on, something you'd never heard before l, and it was only natural for you and George to move closer. His hands naturally fell to your hips, holding your body closely to his as you encircled your own arms around his shoulders, despite the height difference.

"You look so beautiful," he says in a low voice, looking down at you with a look that completely takes your breath away for a moment.

"You've said that already," you tease, keeping your voice equally as low and sultry, feeling as if you were in your own bubble entirely, barely swaying to the music as you held on to each other.

"I'll tell you as often as I can," he says cheekily, "you take my breath away."

"You look so handsome," you reply, feeling as if you were gushing with adoration for this boy.

His hand slips a little lower on your waist as you move ever closer, your hand slipping down from his high shoulders to clutch at the collar of his robes, both of you still gazing into each other's eyes as he leans down to kiss you.

You can’t verbalise it, or even begin to fathom how exactly it makes you feel, but for a brief moment in time, it feels like you’re surrounded by an invisible yet very permanent thread, like you were being bound together soul to soul. It envelopes you in its mist, entwining you and George together in a way that feels all-consuming. It’s peaceful and exhilarating all at the same time; but before you can even begin to realise what was happening, it all seemed to fade away, leaving you feeling nothing but warmth and love.

Pulling away, George dramatically twirls you around, dress flexed out around your legs, using your hand and you both giggle together. The laughter dies in his throat the second that he sees a figure moving towards him, the light and shimmer in his eyes dying like an extinguished flame.

An old man moves beside the pair of you, adorned in his finest silver robes with a beard longer than you'd ever seen. He looked almost comically like what you'd envisioned a wizard to be, so unlike how George has presented himself all these years; he looked like an archetype of Merlin himself, like Disney's imagining of ‘The sword in the stone’. He carries the air and grace of someone who is significantly important to the people around him, a commanding figure amongst the sea of joyous people. He meanders over to you and George with a knowing, yet ambiguous expression and he stops in his tracks to look over his half moon shaped glasses at you. He can see right through you and you are painfully aware of it. He knows you do not belong here, that you were a muggle amongst wizards, the little ugly duck amongst swans.

You swallow nervously, realising that this might be it for the two of you, that you could be in very real danger now. George’s hold tightens on you, wether out of protection or his own fear and you can’t help but squeeze back, sharing in his fear.

Fred and Angelina stop twirling beside you, two pairs of frozen bodies in the middle of the dance floor. You can feel Fred’s gaze cutting into you, no doubt carrying the same fear as his brother. What would happen now? You’d been caught.

To your utter amazement, the old man doesn’t cause a scene by cursing you out, doesn’t re-enact the scene in Lion King 2 when Simba banishes Kovu but without the singing giraffes and zebras. There’s no anger, no malice in his expression, only a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a slightly raise of his eyebrow. He looks between the pair of you, as if he’s seeing something that isn’t there, that the two of you cannot see.

His lips upturn into the tightest of smirks and raises a long, somewhat crooked finger to the side of his nose, tapping it twice gently against the curved nose. He winks from his left eye and begins to walk away, almost chuckling under his breath to himself as he saunters over to a woman in vibrant green robes who had begun to notice that something wasn’t right. He whisks her onto the dance floor, ensuring that her back is turned to the two twins and their dates and leads her away through the sea of dancing couples under the pretence of leading the dance.

George audibly let’s out the breath he’d been holding under the scrutiny of the man and let’s go of his right grip on your waist just slightly, still clutching you protectively.

“Who was that?” You ask quietly, loud enough that only George would be able to hear.

“Dumbledore… headmaster,” he replies, though his voice is a little shaky still. He casts a glance to the large clock on the wall above everyone’s head and you see the slight frown pulling between his eyebrows.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says, reaching for your hand and beginning to pull you away from the dance floor, shooting a glance to Fred out of curtesy, silently communicating that he was stepping away. He doesn’t give you time to reply nor question his decision as he leads you by the hand through the crowd and out of the large wooden doors, leading out into the courtyard that is just as beautiful as the hall. He takes you to a nearby, unoccupied bench where you take a seat, adjusting the poof of the dress beneath you as you sit. The air is cold out here but you hardly notice, welcoming the slight chill after your little run in with the headmaster.

“Thank you,” George says quietly, almost absently as he watched you faffing with your dress. You look up at him in confusion, not quite sure as to why he’s thanking you.

“For everything, for trusting me and for coming here tonight,” he adds. “When I sent that first letter, I never considered you’d think I could spend this night with anyone else because there’s no one else for me. Never imagined that you would come, that you’d fit in so brilliantly.”

“It’s you I should be thanking,” you say, looking up to him with the sweetest, most adoring look you could muster. “You’ve introduced me to this whole new world and I’m so thankful I got to spend this night with you. I feel like Cinderella going back to her regular boring life after this.”

“Cinderella?” He asks, completely oblivious.

“I’ll tell you another time,” you smile warmly.

“No rush. We’ve got a whole lifetime.”

[smuby]

Okay now draw spy with armor shield and sword made of cigarette boxes

ok i took some liberates because i do not have the brain power to imagine a sword and shield made of cigarette boxes so heres spy and his one single comedically oversized cigarette box that can be used as a shield sometimes

[scrimblyscrorblo]

request : can i see either nikolai or sigma in your art style ? idk i feel like both would look gorgeous <3

No ‘cuz he is gorgeous?? The gender envy I get from this fucker (and several other characters in this damn show)(Poe)(Bram stoker)

So annoyed they took away his stars in the name actually we were ROBBED and his heels omg he came to absolutely ✨serve✨

[izel-scribbles]

What about John and either Lilly?

didn't rlly know what to do for this one so here's the queen herself!!

[irishmammonagenda]

Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️

Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?

Answer only if you're okay with that❤️

Have a great day🏃‍♂️

hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)

i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)

anyway this was fun to write

grma for the ask <3

Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.

DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊

WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.

LUCIFER

He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.

At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.

He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.

"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.

He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.

The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.

The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.

'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.

Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.

Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.

"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."

(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)

MAMMON

Haha, Emo!

"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"

It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)

BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!

He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.

You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.

The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.

LEVIATHAN

The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.

He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.

He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)

He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.

You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(

"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.

SATAN

Satan enjoys your music taste.

He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.

What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.

No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.

He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!

The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."

ASMODEUS

The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.

He likes paramore though!

Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!

(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)

He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!

The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.

But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.

He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.

He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs

Your his emo after all.

You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!

BEELZEBUB

He likes it.

but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.

He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.

In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.

Very supportive.

If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)

Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.

Bro is like your own bodyguard.

Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!

He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.

He just wants to keep you safe :(

Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.

BELPHEGOR

Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.

Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.

Wowwww. Petty.

Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.

What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.

He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.

He did.

Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.

Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.

It's kind of like a white noise machine.

Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.

Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.

Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.

And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.

But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.

Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.

On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(

Bro is such a hypocrite.

But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.

Not that he'd ever outright tell you.

But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)

[sentinel-prime-after-dark]

holy shit request idea. Sentinel Prime trying to be the dom to a pleasure bot who specializes in being a dom, thinks, 'man he SUCKS AT THIS' grabs him by his wings and proceeds to show Senti a good time by wing overstim and that prime valve.

Your wish is my command holy fuck 👀💦

I forgot it was supposed to be his valve and not his spike but this came out so good I can’t just throw it out 😭

If anyone wants this but actually with the pleasurebot spiking him I will write it!!

[twinkskeletons]

travie and patrick! maybe in the 16 candles verse (or whatever you want!)

new vampire /\^.w.^/\

[quibbs126]

Heya! Can you do Dark Choco Cookie and Cotton Cookie child?

So I originally misread Cotton as Cotton Candy (especially since not everyone includes the Cookie part of the name), and I’m not doing Dark Choco/Cotton, so Dark Choco/Cotton Candy it is

Anyways, this is Bubble Choco Cookie

So Bubble Choco here is somewhere in his teens, and he’s an avid poet. However he does not want anyone to read his poems, and will make sure you don’t touch his poetry journal. They’re mostly edgy or sad and they aren’t the best, but it’s how he expresses himself. He’ll just pull out his journal and pencil at random times and start writing

When he was younger, he used to be a lot more cheerful and bubbly, but as he entered his teen years, he started to act more rebellious and “dark”. He never quite gave up his fashion sense though, with his main changes just being that he wears some darker shades

He is also very fond of chocolate, specifically the aerated kind

Okay I’m gonna be honest, I don’t have much for him other than the poet angle. I just kind of decided to finally start drawing him

I also recognize that he has very little of Dark Choco in his character, as well as design, but that’s in part because of the way I envisioned this ship. For one thing, it’s in Ovenbreak so no Dark Cacao Kingdom here, Dark Choco probably just lives with Cotton Candy, and also, it’s a wholesome ship, their kid doesn’t need that much angst. And he’s a poet instead of a fighter, and if he doesn’t want to fight, I don’t see any reason for Dark Choco to teach him; Cotton Candy doesn’t seem to live in an area that requires much sword fighting or the like

Anyways, on to design stuff

So Bubble Choco is based on aerated chocolate, since it’s like a really light chocolate, and cotton candy is also light (I’m talking weight btw). Also, I’ve eaten this kind of chocolate before (I quite enjoy Aero bars), and I quite like it

I think another name I was considering was Air Choco, since it’s closer to the actual name of the ingredient, but Bubble Choco works better as a name

Aerated chocolate:

So as I said earlier, I kind of made him for the sake of making him and doing more of these, so there wasn’t a super big amount of thought out into him. I do still like how he turned out though

All I really had to go on initially was the poet angle (I didn’t even reread my old notes), and I wasn’t really sure where to go with his personality until I started tweaking his expression. He was also originally going to be a girl but somewhere in development I decided “eh, why not have him be a boy?” and there you have it

I also knew I wanted him to have black poofy hair with things in it. It was originally more of a curved line in between the ends, but I changed it when I looked at Cotton Candy’s hair more. Though I kind of wish I had kept it now. There was also an old concept I mad ages ago that also had that hair, but it was longer. Don’t know why it’s this current length

After doing the hair, I wasn’t really sure what to do with the outfit, and I kind of just made something up as I went. He’s got the poofy ends of his jacket because of the whole “bubble” thing. I wanted to give him more poofy stuff

His colors are brown and light green become the Aero bars I usually see are regular chocolate (brown) and mint (light green). The pink was added to there’d be a little more color variation

As for the thing in his eye, it’s because of Cotton Candy’s heart eyes and me liking to put stuff in the eyes in place of that. Bubble Choco’s eye thing is supposed to be a sort of reference to Dark Choco with his star, though I didn’t bother to curve it out. And as I realize now, the eye I chose is also his missing eye and the star eye of the SoD. I’d like to claim that was intentional, but it wasn’t

And anyways yeah, there you have it. Bubble Choco. Don’t really have much else to say other than I hope you enjoyed him

[lullaebies]

Absolutely love your blog! If you're still taking Jaehaera/Aegon III requests what about one where they're in a secret relationship and are keeping it from their families but some shenanigans ensue (maybe they snuck out or something, or someone walked in on them kissing?) and they're somehow discovered? Also please overprotective father Aegon II because yes!

(Preferably an AU where the Dance happens later?)

The gathering in the room feels like a court of thorns, and Jaehaera feels as if she is going to hurl. Standing by her family with her grandmother looking at all around with hawk eyes, she feels if something is about to implode. Aegon had been taken from her side to his mother’s, Princess Rhaenyra. The heiress to the Throne had been most wroth, her, her husband, and her sons waking in the middle of the night for this… issue.

The worst of it all, Jaehaerys had been still laughing with damn near tears in his eyes while telling what he witnessed. She had begged him to leave it be, but then he and Aegon got into an altercation, and now… Ugh!

“So I enter her room because I left my book there—” he looks at Princess Rhaenyra and her family, particularly Aegon. “It was my room once too, do mind— and what do I see if not Aegon the Younger pining my sister against her own closet? The closet, grandmother. He didn’t have the mind to get her against a bed.”

She’s going to choke him.

“Oh, fuck off,” Aegon yells at her twin. “As if she hasn’t told me about you becoming a damn near Rosby stableboy in your visits there—”

Princess Rhaenyra pushes him back to his half-brothers, the lot of the brown haired boys holding their brother of nine and ten, yet only his father manages to stare him down. On the other hand, her father had been gritting his teeth beside her, while mother held onto Jaehaerys’s forearm in warning. Alicent gives her twin a pointed look.

“Mind your words, Jaehaerys,” she says, and turns to look at Rhaenyra and her family. “Prince Aegon, would you mind explaining how you came into my granddaughter's rooms?” 

Aegon licks his lips, and Jaehaera swallows. The story is longer than both of them would be able to admit. Despite the blood feud of the families, they had managed to talk last year at the ball for her and Jaehaerys five and tenth nameday. Even went on a joint ride with Morghul and Stormcloud, and before he left for Dragonstone, they decided on a day to meet again at the Kingswood. Such meetings repeated. They could only afford a day a moon, but those days were all so sweet. Did she do anything wrong? Yes, had been the objective answer, but she couldn’t care for it.

And here he is, in her very own home. They could hardly speak by their family, how could she not ask for a moment of privacy?

Rhaenyra rubs her temples. “Things like these happen at this age, Alicent,” she says. “You are stressing Jaehaera and Aegon both.”

Alicent furrows her brows. “Oh, these things do happen at this age, don’t they?” she asks, glaring. “We had known since we were her age how reputation matters in finding marriage. Your son is three years her elder and should know not to fiddle with a noble girl’s corset strings at the hour of the bat.”

Jaehaera feels some tears well up in her eyes. She doesn’t care for the embarrassment of being caught by now, but this makes her feel a fool. It had been nothing insidious, was it? They hadn’t even kissed until they celebrated the new year. She hadn’t lost her chastity, either. It is not just…

“He came into those rooms because your granddaughter let him in, Queen Alicent,” Prince Daemon says. “You should mind her doings before you lay judgement on my son’s.”

Jaehaera’s father had been standing quiet for the longest while, but with that he flares. “Men had been sent to the wall and got castrated for less, Uncle. If you don’t like my mother’s judgement, perhaps I should see to it?”

She holds onto her father’s arm. Please, let this stop. 

Daemon eyes him dangerously. “See to your own misgivings,” he says. “Your own son laughs at your daughter's.”

“Father, please,” Jaehaera says, when Aegon the Elder tries and almost manages to escape her grip. Her mother and brother come quickly beside them. Her mother stands in front of her father and puts a hand on his chest, warning, while Jaehaerys comes to Jaehaera’s side, a wroth smirk thrown at their grand-uncle’s way.

“I am laughing at my sister’s choices, grand uncle. At least if it had been Viserys, he has my aunt’s pretty face,” he says, backing their father for once. They often argue, but at times they work together, they prove they’re made of the same cloth. “The Seven had laughed at Aegon giving him yours.”

Daemon starts stepping towards them. “You think you are a jester, you defected—”

Prince Jacaerys comes against his step-father to stop him from coming forward, the same ways her mother has to stop her father from doing the same. Her grandmother and Princess Rhaenyra had come to yell at one another, and even the kingsguard had come to get involved. Jaehaera’s body is reduced to shaking, fat tears fully sliding down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly between gentle sobs, the sleeves of a dishevelled dress wiping against her face again and again to try and catch all the tears. Only the family beside her hears, so loud were the voices in the room. Her brother and father turn around, with similarly apprehensive faces. “Please, please stop..”

Behind them, from the other side of the room, Aegon sees her in her pathetic state too. She never was the emotional type, and she had oft hoped he liked it for he had been none too different. The unusual petrification on his face makes her blood feel as if it is running dry, and it feels all gone when the dark amethyst of his eyes fall into what she could only call resigned acceptance.

Aegon, her Aegon, comes by his mother and her grandmother, holding Princess Rhaenyra’s arm. “It was my fault. We didn’t mean to… I took it too far,” he finally says. “I won’t come by her any more, Queen Alicent.”

It hurts more than anything else he could’ve said.

Her mother pushes their father aside to cloak her in an embrace. Jaehaera can only tremble and sob against her mother’s robe.

The room grows silent as Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent agree to not tell The King or all else of the incident; so ill had been King Viserys, it had not been worth ailing her grandfather further with this issue when he had been on the brink of passing. 

All is to be forgotten, and cast away. Jaehaera’s puffy eyes lift from her mother’s shoulder, and catch his gaze one last time before he leaves. He tries to mouth something, but is pushed by his family out of the room.

Jaehaera sinks against her mother again. Even if she banishes the days in the green Kingswood from her thoughts, the scent of the campfire charring wood black will live in her dreams.

[heartfall-syndrome]

Soooo! I was going through my piles of drawing in my room since I’m switching with my sisters room and basically just seeing what I had to throw out, when I found a bunch of doodles from a project I completely forgot about. Said project I never shared here but I know at least ONE of you knows about and probably knows I was behind it sense they also happen to be the first person who ever followed me here. (I’m not gonna @ them sense I’m not sure if they’re okay with it, but if you know I’m talking about you and are fine with me mentioning you pls dm me and I’ll include you here!)

Anywho! That project was an ask blog! More specifically an ask blog for an au I made when I was in the middle of my mha fixation ✨Vigilante Spinner✨ I did delete the blog and most of the art I made for it for reasons I won’t start yapping about here.

But I was thinking about bringing that au back! Not as a new blog but I could start post about it here sense I had a LOT of plans, ideas and stories that I never got to share. For example the whole plot about what the hell was going on with their family (specifically their mom). And I REALLY wanna continue this au cuz it was genuinely so fun to make!

And I did some digging and found more art that I thankfully never deleted! So if any of this rings a bell! Hello you have found me again!

I’m really sad I chose to delete almost everything I made on that blog, sense every interaction was so sweet and the people who were following the story were genuinely so kind and amazing

I MEAN WHAT THE HELL PAST ME!?!! I’m gonna go back and slap myself i swear T^T

[emeritusemeritus]

Ok so I was wondering if you could write a Fred Weasley X sarcastic hufflepuff reader and everyone kinda wonders how shes a hufflepuff because she comes off as bitchy but like she super caring with Fred and he’s like the only one that really sees that side of her

Hi Anon! I have to admit I got a little carried away with this one (what’s new). I started writing just a normal fic but it grew beyond measure because I fell in love with the snarky little Hufflepuff I was writing. I hope you enjoy! 🖤

**Part 2 is is HERE**

**important: I wrote this in mind following a masquerade ball that had already happened within the story to mark the anniversary of Hogwarts. **

Warnings: Unrequited love, idiots in love, friends to lovers all the usual divine tropes. Happy ending I promise. Minor sexual references, 1 mention of masturbation, George fancies Angelina. Slight angst? We have a massive crush on Freddie. Bonus points for anyone who knows where the title is from.

Word count: 3.8k (Oops I did it again)

But who can name the face?

"Nerds," you nod in greeting, a wide grin plastered on your face as you barge through their dorm room door, smirking to the two twins who sit hunched over their creations, trying to perfect a new product. George's nose was almost pressed into the book he was reading and Fred was tinkering with something you couldn't make out, probably an explosive of some sort. You jump onto George's bed, the closest one to you and kick off your shoes.

"Make yourself at home," George snarks, shooting a playful glance to you.

"Thanks Georgie I will," you beam, purposefully ignoring the sarcasm dripping from his words. He rolls his eyes with a smile before focusing back on the page.

"Earth to Fred?" You say, noticing a few moments later that he hadn't greeted you. You frown, hearing nothing back and George shoots a glance to you again before turning to his twin, kicking him swiftly in the shin.

"Git," Fred mutters, rubbing his shin and finally noticing that you were here.

"Hello to you too," you snark, watching as his eyes squint mockingly at you.

"Sorry your ladyship, didn't realise you required my full attention," he snarks, expecting a reaction that he doesn't get.

"Well I do," you nod, your voice and face completely blank until you erupt in a smirk that he mirrors.

"What are you working on?"

"Wait how did you get in here? You're a Hufflepuff!" George gestures to the Gryffindor boys dormitory you're sat in, but your face reveals nothing. Fred knows because of course he does, you've been here more times than you can count but George is usually not here when you sneak in.

"I believe I asked a question first, but if you must know," you lean in towards George, acting as if you were going to reveal an entire catalogue of secrets to him. "I'm a witch."

The deep sigh that George lets out only increases your devilish smile that you share with Fred, widening still when you hear him burst with laughter, the sound of his boisterous laugh filling your body with warmth. He had the most gorgeous laugh and you couldn't help but admire how handsome he looked when he laughed, eyes shining.

"Sodding woman," George mutters under his breath as he picks up the book again, pretending to read. You don't miss the smirk that's threatening to slip from his lips that he's trying so hard to conceal, making you feel a little victorious.

"So back to me, what are you working on?"

"Love potions," Fred says absently, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Your stomach roils dangerously, a sinking feeling settling in your lower tummy as Fred's words.

"Love potions?" You repeat, hardly hiding the frown on your face. You look between the twins but they offer nothing in the way of clues. Fred finally looks up to you again, shrugging slightly as he explains.

"Figured we could start selling them at the shop, break into the girly market. These are just drafts, we realised early on we don't have a bloody clue what we're doing with them."

"Draft draughts?" You joke, squashing down any uneasy feelings you felt. George snorts and Fred chuckles at your words as he nods, enjoying the stupid pun.

"Fancy helping a mate out?" He asks, trying to reel you into helping with whatever he was tinkering with, holding his hand out for you to take. "Could do with your expertise little badger."

You roll your eyes at the nickname but hop off George's bed to grab his hand, letting him lead you over to look at his little experiment, seeing a kind of heart shaped bottle that he was trying to transfigure. You offer to help him transfigure it into more of a heart and somehow manage to tint the glass pink which they both like.

"So why the sudden need to break into the girly market?" You ask, head cocked slightly as you look upon the bottle that you're quite proud of.

"Got love on the brain doesn't he," George says with a laugh, only to duck a moment later when Fred lobs a book at his head.

"What?" You ask, trying to sound neutral but fearing you were failing miserably.

"Met a girl the other night didn't he, hasn't shut up about her since," George adds, clearly unbothered by Fred's reaction as he ducks another flying object thrown by his bemused twin.

"You wouldn't shut up about her if you met her," he grumbles, cheeks filling with a vibrant blush. "Didn't even know girls could be that attractive, she was perfect mate."

"What from the half of her face that you saw?" George snarks, a loud 'ow' echoing through the room as he fails to duck this time.

You don't hear anymore, your heart pounding in your chest and you feel sick almost instantly, the room seeming to spin around you. Fred had met someone at the masquerade ball.

The Masquerade Ball was an extravagant affair marking the one thousandth year of Hogwarts since the founding of the school in 996AD. In honour of the ancient traditions, a masquerade ball had been held which would bring all the students together regardless of their assorted houses. You could be as anonymous as you wished, no need to disclose your house or your name and dates were not permitted in an effort to unite the school free from the usual restrictions that naturally came from house only events. Due to the enchantments upon the school, the masks were implemented to hide your identity for the night with made everything even more magical. You'd had a wonderful night, second only to the Yule ball though you really couldn't compare them.

You remembered now that you hadn't seen Fred all night, not for your lack of trying and now it all makes sense why. You need to get out before the tears really start, your world feeling like it was crumbling around you.

"Sorry, forgot about my potions work," you say quickly, reaching for your shoes and rushing out of the door before either of them could notice your tears.

You barely make it out of Gryffindor tower when your tears begin to stream down your face, lip wobbling as their words echo through your mind. You run to the nearest bathroom, praying that it's empty and rush into a cubicle to allow yourself some privacy in your heartbroken state.

You'd had a crush of Fred Weasley forever. The unlikely pair that you were, the hufflepuff and the Gryffindor brought together by mischief. You'd started falling for him in your second year but managed to keep it quiet, to push it away and keep it hidden in the hopes that it would fade over time... but it didn't. By your fourth year you had a full blown crush and by your fifth you were convinced you loved him. Every summer you wished that upon your return to school that your feelings would have disappeared or at least faded but the second that he'd smile at you, throwing his arm around you in a warm greeting you knew that your hoping was pointless. You'd spent years perfecting your ability to hide your feelings from him, torturing yourself in private to allow you to keep feelings-free around him. You reasoned that it was better to have him in your life as a best friend than to be without him completely and you were fine with that, at least until now. There's never been another girl as far as you remembered. Sure his friendship with Angelina sometimes made you jealous but you were sure that George fancied her and Fred was just trying to rile him up most of the time to get a reaction. But this mystery girl, he'd fallen for him without even knowing her, without even seeing her full face. She's stolen him away from you without a single thought and you didn't even know who she was to hate her.

Once you'd gotten most of your feelings out, you thought of the one thing that had kept you going all week. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, but it was different for you.

You'd also met someone at the ball, the masked man with the black hair and robes so entrancing that he'd actually made you forget about Fred entirely for the short time you spent together. He had a magic laugh, magnetic really that made you feel drawn to him even without knowing anything about him. You'd felt connected to him instantly, even as your eyes searched for Fred in the crowd of people but finding nothing. At least now you knew where he was.

You let out a sigh, wiping your last couple of tears with the sleeve of your robe as you took deep breaths to steady yourself. How could you go on from this? The masked man had been your dirty little secret that you'd never intended to go anywhere, as much as he kept sneaking into your mind.

Fred Weasley would never be yours. It was a fact, as excruciating as it was to admit. Someone else had turned his head, not that he was ever really looking at you and all you could do is sit back and watch with thoughts of your mystery man to keep you company.

You managed to avoid Fred and George for the next two days pretty successfully. You weren't as popular as them but you had some good friends in Hufflepuff that you chose to sit with at meal times and stayed within the common room for most of your free time, knowing that Fred and George couldn't find you there.

"Are you coming to dinner?" One of your friends asks, waiting for you in the common room as you finish up the chapter of the book you were reading.

"Yeah sure," you say, placing in your bookmark and casting your book onto the side.

You follow her out of the common room past the barrels into the dark corridor and scream as you're dragged away by two strong figures. You look back to your friend in alarm seeing her mouth a half-hearted 'sorry' and try to fight off your attackers, quickly getting the sense of who was manhandling you.

"Put me down, idiots!" You say struggling against their weirdly strong grasps, not stopping until you were placed onto a bench in the next corridor. You look up and see Fred and George towering over you, their eyes fixed into hard stares as they look at you, Fred with his arms crossed and George with his hands in his pockets, shoulders stiff.

"You've been avoiding us," George accuses, openly saying the words that you knew were true. You can't bring yourself to deny it, or avoid the question, all you can think is how to make an excuse that would explain it all.

"No excuses," Fred says, clearly reading your face. Damn him for knowing you so bloody well.

"I've been busy," you say, lifting an eyebrow at them.

"Yeah, busy avoiding us," Fred says, his lips pursing a little as he looks down at you.

"Busy doing school work," you counter.

"Oh yeah what class?" George asks, though you can tell in his void that he's not falling for it one bit.

"All of them," you say, quickly adding, "you know I get surprisingly little work done when I'm with you two, funny that."

"Yeah nice one, tell it to my mother," Fred says completely deadpan. You sigh, knowing you're not going to get out of this one alive.

"I've just been busy," you say, lowering your barriers a little but keeping that little confession of love stored neatly tucked away where it would never come out no matter how open you were being. "Needed a couple of days to myself... people were starting to think I was a Gryffindor."

Fred's face remains unchanged but you can see the ghost of a smile pulling at George's face.

"It wasn't you, I just had a lot going on," you say with complete honesty, well maybe not complete.

"Needed a couple of days to get my head together, I've been drowning in homework and I'm think I'm failing charms. I honestly just needed a couple of days to sort myself out before they send an owl home and my parents would know how much in disappointing them."

Okay so not a complete lie, but not the complete truth either.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Fred says, his harsh glaze slipping from his face as he crouched down beside the bench you're sat on, his head still inline with yours at his astronomical height. George relaxes in front of you, scooting you across so he can sit on the other side of the bench. You feel awful essentially lying to them, though it was more altered truth but you could face them knowing, especially Fred.

"Embarrassed, mortified, horrified, you choose."

"It's us, you don't need to be embarrassed with us," George says softly. Usually your relationship was filled with vicious banter so seeing him so soft and kind with you was nice if not a little off putting.

"Anyway, now I have you back," Fred says with a smirk blooming on his face.

"We," George adds, shooting a look to his twin.

"Eh? Oh yeah... how come you never told us your common room was down here?! You could have been sneaking us treats this whole time!"

"Would have saved our legs many a trip to the kitchens!"

"Length of your legs it only takes three steps," you quip back to George who smiles widely.

"There she is," Fred says smiling at you. It's a beaming smile, eyes glimmering and it makes your heart burst to know that it's all for you. Fred suddenly stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you hop off the bench but to your surprise he doesn't let go and instead pulls you away, still holding your hand as you walk around the corner to the kitchen corridor, passing the painting of the silver fruit bowl that conceals the entrance to the kitchens.

"See all those times you've apparently come up to our room, could have brought the snacks," george says, bumping your shoulder as he nods to the door as you make your way past it. "All you have to do is," George says, walking in sync and surprisingly saying nothing at his brother's hand in yours.

"If you think I'm going to stop and tickle the pear every time I come to see you," you begin to say, only to be cut off by Fred.

"You can tickle my pair anytime, babe."

"Shove off Weasley," you say with a bite, trying to recover from his words quickly and fight off the blush that threatens your heating cheeks as they laugh amongst themselves.

"Well if you're offering," George says from the other side, to which you side step and hold out your foot, causing him to trip. He catches himself quickly before he falls but it's still pretty funny, as made apparent by yours and Fred's laughter.

"Thought you Hufflepuffs were supposed to be nice!"

"Coming from you?" You counter, sending a frown towards him, able to list off the top of your head a multitude of times he'd pranked someone, caused damage or injury and that was mainly just to yourself.

"She is nice," Fred quickly defends, shooting his brother a dung-eating grin, "to me at least."

You chuckle and carry on walking, watching out for George's revenge.

"Hold up, wait here," Fred suddenly says, coming to an abrupt halt near the main atrium. He grabs your arm to stop you, his hand breaking free from yours as he holds up a finger and runs back down the corridor.

You watch his figure disappear and squeeze your now unoccupied hand, your body already missing his touch. Truthfully the past few days had been torture being away from them, namely Fred, but it was necessary to contain the feelings that has threatened to burst out of you like a broken remembrall.

Suddenly there's a gasp to your side and you spin around quickly on your heel to face George, who is looking at you with wide eyes and a Zouwu like grin etched upon his face. You frown in confusion, not knowing what he's looking at until your entire body fills with dread with his next words.

"You're in love with him!"

You panic, not knowing what to do with the information. You can hardly deny it, it would be impossible to hide from George now he knew and you're certain that your reaction has given you away, so you go to the next default setting: threats.

"One word comes out of your mouth to anyone and I'll tell Angelina that I walked in on you wanking over her!"

George faces pales for a second before his cheeks heat up with a vivid red blush that spreads the full length of his face.

"But that didn't."

"Your old friend... Angelina Johnson... the Qudditch team captain," you say, ignoring his looks as you tilt your voice to sound more and more disgusted at his behaviour with every passing word.

"What? You can't."

"Naked on a broom, George Weasley! Could you be any more depraved?"

"Alright fine!" He says, holding his hands up in surrender, not wanting to push you further and find out that you weren't bluffing.

"I won't say anything to Fred," he promises, looking genuine in his agreement.

It's awkward now, the silence that follows as you come to terms that George is in on your secret now.

You don't look at him any longer, instead fixing your gaze to the stone floor as you consider the implications. Had you looked at George, you'd have noticed him battling with himself, fighting over what to say next. It wasn't his secret to tell, he shouldn't even be considering breaking him twin's confidence but the look on your face right now was enough to break whatever morality he had.

"You know... he's," George begins to say, your gaze drifting up towards him as you look into his eyes, expecting laughter or mocking but finding none.

"He's what?" You ask, confused about his sudden stop, eyes widening.

"He's coming."

"I was only gone for a minute, you two haven't fallen out already have you?" Fred jokes, his pockets clearly stuffed with treats that he'd acquired from the kitchens.

"No," you and George say at precisely the same time. So much for not looking suspicious. Fred trots off ahead urging you both to follow and you do so willingly and silently, hardly trusting yourself to speak in that moment as you feel George's eyes on you.

"Everything alright with y/n earlier? She seemed upset when I got back. Are you sure you didn't say anything to her?" Fred asks, taking off his tie and his school shirt as he undresses for bed, calling to George who's doing the same on the other side of the room.

"I didn't say anything mate," George says, "reckon you're thinking about her too much."

"Just being a friend," Fred says, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Well between 'being a friend' to y/n and your mystery woman, you certainly are doing a lot of thinking... reckon if you ignore one of them you might finally figure out that love potion," George says grinning as he climbs into bed.

"Shove off," Fred says, climbing into his own bed and pulling the curtain across with a harsh shove. He lays in bed unsettled for what seems like hours, his mind spinning between his friend and his mystery woman, realising with a sad conclusion that he'd gotten absolutely nowhere with either one of them.

♡

Fred Weasley was certain that his eyes had never been blessed enough to look upon something so captivating, so enchanting that it made his mouth dry. There was a sea of people around dressed in their fanciest clothes, an opulent symphony of colour and glitter, yet she stood out amongst the crowd like a singular lighthouse in a vast, dark ocean.

He was enthralled by the way her dress moved, clinging perfectly to her figure, highlighting the delicate curves and lines of her body whilst staying modest. It was arousing, the way her dress offered so much but showed so little, Fred's imagination running wild of what lay underneath.

She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman Fred had even laid eyes upon, he was certain. Her dress shining under the twinkling lights, her seductive smile and those eyes that seemed to twinkle all on their own even without the glistening reflection of the lights above her.

He was certain that he was the luckiest bloke in the room; that every other male was envious of the way his hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. But he didn't care what anyone thought or of their jealousy in the moment, he just couldn't believe his luck. They were pulled together as if my an invisible string, finding each other quickly as the music played around them, the soft lights acting like a runway between them both, eyes connecting almost immediately.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" He asks with a smirk, losing himself in her eyes as they seem to glimmer even more at his words.

"I don't think that's how masquerade balls work," she says with a laugh, earning a chuckle from him.

"What about your house?" He follows up, needing to know something about her even if it's tangible evidence.

The smile she flashes him makes him almost dizzy, sparkling eyes peering up at him from beneath her mask.

"Only if you can guess it," she counters, leading him down a dark path of guessing who she might be.

"Sorry I think you've hit your limit on questions," she says as the song changes. "Perhaps I could ask you some?"

"You can ask me anything... except my name," he smirks from under his mask, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips briefly under your gaze.

"Are you single?"

His laughter is contagious and she finds herself chuckling along with him as his hand at her waist squeezes her tighter momentarily for her cheekiness.

"Definitely," he replies softly, though he can't help but feel a little stab at the thought of his best friend, wishing for years that he could say that he wasn't single in the slightest.

♡

Fred wakes with a start, confused for a moment as to his whereabouts having jumped so quickly from his dream to reality. He was back there again, his mind so fixed on his mystery woman that every dream was a recollection of that night, though this time he was certain that there was something different. Had his mystery date always sounded so much like y/n?

Part 2 anyone?

[ask-miscode]

HorrorDust Request

@egnidres here is part one of your request with the references you sent me.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Greetings, Villainous Kitty

I've come with an absurd writing request.

How about a hero (who used to be very idealistic) who violently murders the people who supposedly killed their lover, the villain (you said you didn't get enough characters going feral and murdering ppl n stuff so here we are)

Except the catch is, the hero discovers the villain is alive. You choose how they react.

No pressure at all and definitely no rush. I hope this wasn't too unoriginal, and it's completely fine if you don't want to write it. . .

Also you're very very talented and your writing slayssss 💙💙

In all honesty, the hero didn’t know they were this good with swords.

Usually, they didn’t use equipment for close combat and especially not those which were made to cut and tear. Protection was supposed to be their top priority. A commandment they obeyed like none other. After all, training had designed them this way: to protect.

“If you do this,” the superhero said, “you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Their heavy breathing broke their voice in many places. As well as the blood in their throat and the pain brewing in their shattered leg. But the hero had little sympathy, had little compassion to spare. Within hours, their entire world had been destroyed. Now they knew that they could destroy entire worlds within merely seconds.

“That’s what you want? Play god? Kill whatever you want?” The hero hadn’t realised, had never really recognised it but tears were running down their face, together with all their emotions.

“Jealous?” the hero asked. They weren’t ashamed of the tears, weren’t ashamed of the suffering and the sins they were committing. They had nothing to lose and they only killed those who deserved it. They felt like this was the first time in years in which they brought justice to the city.

“I remember when you were a child,” the superhero said. They smiled softly as they held a nasty wound on their side. “So scared but so bright. You always asked if you could give the rest of your food to the guard dogs.”

Yes, they supposed that had happened.

“I never had a kid. To have you was enough.” Ashamed, the hero realised that they’d let their guard down. So, they pressed their blade into one of the superhero’s wounds and watched as their superior twisted in pain, screaming when the hero turned the sword a bit.

“And look at us now,” the hero said. “Look at what you did.”

And the superhero did. They looked at the building the hero had wrecked, the wires hanging from the ceiling and the destroyed furniture. At the dead guards and the glass. A calamity.

“You killed them. You killed the villain,” the hero said as they pulled the sword out of the superhero’s body. “You slaughtered them like an animal.”

“It had to be done—” the superhero wheezed in response. They took in greedy gasps of air but it wasn’t enough. Blood was in their lungs and they would die soon.

“I loved them.”

“And I loved you. I loved you like my own child.” The superhero stretched out their arm, probably so they could touch them. But the hero just looked at them, two lines of tears drawing into the dirt on their cheeks. “I couldn’t let them destroy you.”

For a long time, the hero watched them. How they fought for air and how they tried so desperately to survive their injury. But then, they made up their mind.

“Forgive me, then,” the hero said.

“I always will,” echoed the answer and that was all the hero needed. With a horrible crunch were they able to put the blade through their mentor’s chest as tears dropped down onto their hands. There were little noises of protest but soon enough, they died when the blood came.

They sat there for minutes, watching the lifeless body of the superhero being completely motionless, unresponsive. And the hero cried, couldn’t do anything but cry into their own hands.

They were a failure. Doomed to shatter. They couldn’t believe how many people they had killed and how many of those were close to them. What had they become? What was wrong with them?

After half an hour, they could barely move. Their whole body was shaking and they were too tired to use their muscles. They just sat there, watching the cold body.

But, then.

“My love.” The hero turned around, thinking this was a cruel trick. “Do you want me to take you home?”

They weren’t quite sure if the hand on their shoulder was real. They didn’t know if they only imagined their lover.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

hi!! hope youre having a good day :) would you write a short like,, makeout fic with pluto if you dont mind? thank you!! i love your writing sm

A/N: HI ANON YOU'RE SO KIND OMG!! Thank you for being so patient with me aghgfhgehfg- I just started college and moved in on my own, which is like, a huge change. So yeah life has been hectic those last few months. But hey! Here it finally is!

On a calm afternoon

Please reblog to show support! Likes don't boost posts on Tumblr :(

Masterlist

You could hear the oxygen getting engulfed in his lungs as he breathed in. From where you were resting on Pluto's chest, eyes half-lidded, you could hear every calm breath he took. Your head rising up, then down. Up, then down. Over and over again, to the same rhythm.

It was peaceful, you thought.

The way the sunlight sipped through the window of his room, and the comfortable silence between the two of you as he focused on the book he was reading, sitting on his bed with his legs on each side of your figure.

In your drowsy state, you heard the harmonious sound of air filling his lung, and felt your head raise a little higher as he took a deep breath, grounding you back on earth and taking you away from the sweet slumber you were about to fall into.

You tried to reposition your head with a groan. Somehow, gaining consciousness has made your position less comfortable than it was before, and you let out a small huff.

Just as you stopped moving, you felt the touch of five fingertips grazing at the skin of your skull; the sensation made your eyes flutter open, and you looked up at your boyfriend.

He has that calm, relaxed position. Expression neutral, his eye moving slightly from left to right has he keeps reading his book line after line. In the same time, you could still hear the air in his lungs, and his fingers threading through your hair.

This was everything you had ever wanted.

The circumstances around the two of you were so strange, you had to admit. You still struggled to understand how death could be such a lively experience – having you running around, discovering and learning when you should be laying still, somewhere under the dirt.

But this, this relationship that Pluto and you shared, it was enough to make you forget about it all.

It felt way too much like life to be anything you could possibly find in death. It was so real that it made anything else seem pale and meaningless in comparison.

It was love, your heart told you. And you knew it was true.

The sensation of his hand leaving your hair brought you back to earth, and you pouted at the loss of his delicate touch.

The faintest ghost of a smile painted his lips for a moment as he used his now free hand to turn another page, his eye still fixed on the words.

You couldn’t help but to crave more of him.

The absence of his left hand on your scalp didn’t seem right. It was suddenly making you feel so cold and empty – you wanted his warmth again.

Still against him, you moved further up on his figure, passing your arms underneath him to capture his torso.

His reaction was almost immediate.

You heard a small surprised cry leave him, and felt the muscles in his back and shoulders tense immediately against the palms of your hands.

“Wh… What are you doing?!”

A few weeks ago, Pluto’s anxiousness and bewildered tone would have made you back off instantly, but you were starting to know better. Instead, you melted further against him, nuzzling your face in his neck, earning a shudder from him when your breath hit the base of his jawline, just below his left ear.

“Just cuddling you.” You breathed out with a relaxed tone.

You didn’t move a muscle. After a while of you simply laying on top of him, you felt his breathing slow down little by little, falling back into a calm and even rhythm. His left hand falling onto the back of your head once again, with his fingers threading through your hair.

Another silent moment passed, where you took a deep breath, and sighed. You knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. The yearning for his touch was so addictive – you only wanted to bask in his affection now. To have him as close to you as possible.

Tightening your grip around him, you pressed a firm kiss on his shoulder through the fabric of his clothes.

This time, despite tensing up for a split second, he let out a chuckle in reaction. His chest jumping up and down against yours.

“Now I’m starting to think you might…” he started with a grin, before your teeth grazed slightly against the crook of his neck, the sensation attenuated by his turtle-neck, but still present. He sucked in a breath, and you felt him arch into your touch, his knees bending on each side of you. You were unable to say if the movement was voluntary or not as the rest of his sentence came out in a repressed moan, struggling to form coherent words. “b-be ge-etting a l-little clingy!”

You stopped your attack and grinned pridefully, loving every reaction you could get from him. His left hand was still in your hair, a lot more tense than it was a few seconds ago. Meanwhile, the book he was previously reading was still in his right hand, now closed and held so firmly you were starting to get concerned he might puncture the cover with his fingers.

It didn’t stop you, though.

Pressing another gentle kiss on the dark-haired man’s left shoulder, you dived down to kiss his collarbone through his turtle-neck, your hands tracing the outline of his waist and earning you another shiver, before you slipped them underneath the fabric and against his warm skin.

Pluto let out a groan, his back instantly arching against you like your fingers were burning him in the gentlest way. The book he held fell from his hand as he abandoned it to encircle your shoulders with his arms, hands clawing and gripping at the back of your shirt for support.

He gasped in, stuttering your name before trying to articulate. “W-Wait… T-That’s… That’s n-not cuddling…!”

Your head shot up to look at him. His breath was uneven, his face so warm you wouldn’t be surprised if he started seething. He looked at you with wide opened eyes, his eyebrows pinching up in an anxious expression.

Oh.

Maybe the teasing has gone a bit far, you realized.

Giving him an apologetic smile, you muttered “Sorry. Got a little carried away.” before pressing a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. “Do you want me to stop?”

There was a silence, and you could feel his hands on each sides of you face, where he has placed them when you had kissed.

He looked at you for a moment, seemingly calming down a little. You could still feel his pulse racing, but the way he detailed your face – your lips – seemed less panicked now. He seemed almost… stunned. Like he was amazed to see you here. Like he struggled to realise this was real.

It was this peculiar look he gave you, that made you want to shout from all rooftops how much you loved him.

His hands held you a little firmer, and he shook his head timidly, your faces so close his nose almost brushed yours.

“No.” He answered in a whisper. So low, yet you could hear the conviction in his tone. “Please don’t.”

The grip Pluto has on you was still gentle as he brought you closer, until you went in and kissed him with a smile.

He wasn’t tense or scared anymore – it was far from being your first kiss by this point. He knew he could trust you to be kind on him.

When your hands roamed higher in his back, pushing his shirt up in the process, he shivered and let out a small moan in response. His arms laid around your neck again, one of his hand messing with your hair.

You couldn’t feel more like a teenager than in that moment. It was insane, you knew it. The way every touch, every second was like you were both seventeen again, smiling and kissing and touching each other for the first time.

You wished this could go on forever.

The way his chest arched into yours when you deepened the kiss, the feeling of his tongue lapping at yours tentatively and the sounds he made at every caress of your fingers. You could never get enough of it.

Your heart was stammering against your ribcage, fuelled by how perfectly your hand could fit on his waist, and how his own hands held you ever-so firmly despite the way they trembled, in an attempt to keep you as close to him as possible, knees locked around you and pushing your body against his.

You were both panting by the time you parted, and Pluto’s face was just as red as your mind was hazy.

Dipping your head down in his neck, you brought your left hand up to hook a finger in the collar of his top, pealing it away from his skin to suck a hickey there.

The dark-haired man tried to hold back a whine through his teeth, tightening his hold on you in an attempt to bring you even closer. He was so precious, you thought. Breathing in and out so fast you doubted the oxygen got through his whole body, as he arched and kept holding on to you like you were a life line. Feeling his skin on your fingertips was a pleasure you couldn’t deny yourself.

And suddenly you heard a knock at the door.

Your arms immediately straightened up to push yourself off of your boyfriend and look at the door. Pluto almost fell from his bed with how far he jumped, gripping your shoulders so tightly it was almost painful. You assumed it would probably hurt a lot more, if being his partner didn’t mean being on the receiving hand of those death grips anytime he got scared.

“Pluto?” You heard his best-friend’s – and roommate’s – voice call from the other side. “Can I come in or is there anything… tricky, going on?”

Your brain was empty. Not a single thought going on. You couldn’t find anything to say.

Given the silence from Pluto, he was probably in the same state of mind. Maybe just more panicked.

Well, one of you had to say something – anything, really. You searched for appropriate words to piece out together into a coherent sentence. It was harder than it should have been. “Uuuuuh…”

“Okay!” Duke’s voice cut you out with a nervous tone before you could even have figured out what to tell him. “That’s enough of an answer, I’ll come back later!”

And then he just… left.

Wow. Okay. What just happened.

You blinked a few times in disbelief. This whole interaction seemed surreal.

When you turned toward your boyfriend again, he gave you the same dumbfounded look you were probably giving him, confirming this whole thing was just as unexpected to him as it was to you.

You stared at each other in complete silence for a moment, until he finally processed the whole chain of events. You saw his face progressively turn a dark shade of red, while his expression slowly went from one of pure shock, to a profound embarrassment.

“Bloody heck…”

He buried his face in your shoulder like you’d be able to hide him from his own discomfort, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you realized what has happened too.

“Stop laughing!” He called out without looking up, trying to scold you but you could hear the smile in his voice. “How am I going to explain this to him, now?!”

If that was supposed to stop you, it sure failed. You only kept laughing as you answered “I don’t think he wants you to explain anything.”

This time, you felt him nuzzling further into the crook of your neck, letting out an embarrassed sound as he swore again. “Oh dammit…”

Sympathizing with his unease, you let your laugher die down and ran a hand through his hair until he calmed down.

[musical-chan]

Hey hey hey you should talk about your blorbos

OH GOSH SHOULD I! (I'm sorry, I know this was sent a while ago but I've been so busy!)

You know, a year or so ago I was on the LU discord server and I was really starting to write fics again and was having a grand old time and somewhere in all the chaos, I picked up a fascination for the Fierce Deity.

And it was a lot of fun because there wasn't a lot of things known about him, just that he was a being trapped in a mask and that he could be many things but he was also extremely powerful and was worn predominately by a young boy named Link, the Hero of Time. Who just happened to be my favourite Link from way back in the early 2000s when I first dipped my toes into the Zelda fandom.

Perfection.

Previous fandom re-engaged! And it was so much fun writing about this mysterious god in a mask and I had a lot of early ideas about him making taking over Time occasionally or maybe he was more benevolent and just all SORTS of things! And then one fateful night in a channel where people were talking all sorts of ridiculous headcanons, I (like many other people) started to wonder what would happen if the Fierce Deity had gotten free from the mask and instead of being a god of destruction and horror, ended up adopting the very young Hero of Time.

And thus, the beginning of Father of Time was born.

The idea of the Deity as a father is not a new one. Plenty of people have thought the same! But I had *ideas* of a confused god that was honestly just doing his best to raise a very unusual mortal child, who could do so much and yet was still utterly perplexed by some of the behaviours of this boy that he desperately wanted to protect. It was so much fun coming up with scenarios that they could be put in. The Deity visiting Talon for advice, carrying an angry Link under his arm. Getting stabbed in the shoulder by a sword when trying to teach Link how to be a better swordsman. Link being a gremlin with moving time around and the Deity not being fussed by it one bit.

I loved them so, so much. I loved the Deity trying to be a dad and Link trying to figure out how families worked and I wanted them to live in their little house in the Lost Woods forever being a cute father and son duo and then-

And then came the plot.

It was all over for me at that point! Almost a year and 460k words later, Father of Time has reached word count levels that might mean some people will never pick it up and read it but I love it SO SO MUCH and I'll never regret any of those words. I've created a whole pantheon of deities for the story. I sent Link back to Termina, TWICE. I tossed him into the War of Eras. I've taken the canon from the games and I've expanded it and tried to fit things in with that that make sense but are also, at the same time, not at all canon. And I've been ramping up the promise of another, final conflict with Ganondorf that will kick off in Father of Time part two, just as soon as I'm done with the fic now.

I love them, all of them. I can't wait to tell the rest of their stories.