#American Gods AU

[bultaonene]

tk american gods au

"Well well well, if it isn't my favorite god."

Jeongguk slams his glass on the counter at the words, so violently that he almost expects it to shatter. He really isn’t in the mood.

"You know why I'm here," he hisses through gritted teeth, words barely escaping his mouth. He rushed here as soon as he got the news, both to desperately try to drown his worries with alcohol and to see Yoongi.

"Do I?" Of course he does. Every living god, old or new, has heard of it. 

The Allfather has died. The king of the gods is no more.

And Yoongi has to know what happened.

"Do not play with me, Lògos."

He uses his old name, one of the many. Yoongi is far older than him, he has been the same for so long. Jeongguk is so young compared to him, a child. Even if his domain is just as old as Yoongi's. Even older.

"I want to know what happened. I want to know who did it. And you are going to tell me."

Yoongi laughs at that, low and deep as the sea, humorless. His hair is so fair it looks white and it only adds to his overall paleness. He looks like a ghost.

"I am an old god, Watatsumi. That doesn't mean I know everything."

He uses another name for Jeongguk too, but if the younger one did it to try and make him remember (who he is, who he should be), Yoongi does it to mock him. After all, it’s his name, yes, but it isn’t at the same time. Jeongguk is too young of a god to have heard that name on the prayers that have reached him.

Yoongi makes a gesture to the bartender, not speaking a single word.

(And oh, the irony of that.)

Jeongguk grips his own glass even more tightly and he can't contain his rage, which spills out of his mouth like water pouring from a pitcher.

"Don't bullshit me, you are-"

"I know who I am, child." He speaks with a booming voice and Jeongguk feels his power, his authority. Now more than ever, Yoongi is looking down on him. Jeongguk doesn't dare to speak and so the old god continues, reaching for the drink the waiter has just set on the counter.

He twirls the glass, watching the dark liquid swirling around. Whiskey, or maybe rhum. Jeongguk was never good with alcohol you have to taste – he's much better at downing it.

"I know who I am," he repeats, sounding sure but dejected. Like he knows but it doesn't count anymore, it doesn't matter. "But oaths and promises have no meaning now, humans only speak lies. I am nearly meaningless."

Yoongi looks at him, eyes burning but so terribly tired. He has always looked immortal, powerful, even ancient; but now, even with the face of a twenty-something years old as his eternal appearance, he looks old. Weary, worn out.

"Words are empty. Being their god has little meaning in this world, doesn't it?"

---

Yoongi didn't give him anything to work with, but he did give him a name.

"Kim Seokjin. Sounds like a human name."

It does, but Seokjin is another old god, just one closer to humans than most. He has been living on Earth for so long that he behaves like a mortal, even if his power is in no way so low.

"We all have plenty of names. He just has one that sounds different, don't underestimate him for this."

Namjoon is sitting in front of him, legs crossed and fingers drumming impatiently on the sofa’s armrest. Next to him Hoseok is sprawled on the couch, his feet tapping a rhythm on the floor that only he can hear.

"I need to question him. I will drag him here and beat the answers out of him, if I must."

Hoseok laughs and it sounds mocking. It’s always difficult to tell with him – he is genuine and honest, but he is above most and he knows it. "You? Against Seokjin? You wouldn't last a second."

"His domain is lust," declares Namjoon, as a way to complete Hoseok’s sentence. They are a strange pair, different but made from the same material. Namjoon is dressed in a smart suit, Hoseok in street clothes, and no one would be able to tell they are brothers, twins, two sides of the same coin.

Jeongguk feels the difference between him and them like it’s a bag of stones sitting on his shoulders. "A god of fertility? He might be ancient, but I have no reason to fear him."

Hoseok laughs again, feet playing a different beat now. Quicker, more frantic, and it’s almost creepy that he can be so still while his feet are dancing away. Next to him, Namjoon clicks his tongue and checks his watch, the fingers tapping on the armrest getting quicker. He scoffs and goes straight to the point.

"No, foolish boy. Lust isn't only restricted to the sexual sphere. Bloodlust. Wanderlust. Lust is craving, yearning – I said his domain is lust, but maybe you would understand better if I tell you that his domain is desire."

"You can't win against him, Epactaeus,” adds Hoseok and again, another name that Jeongguk has but that is not his. “If you wish for something, he will have power over you. If you yearn, you are doomed."

A clock strikes midnight somewhere near and both gods turn towards it with a snap of their bodies, like dogs that have sniffed out prey. But only for a moment. They turn to Jeongguk soon after.

Some people call them Fate, or Destiny. Some call them Death and Life. But everyone calls them Time. And they are both Time, both powerful and ancient, yet different.

Hoseok is the beat of a song, Namjoon is the click of a metronome. One is Chaos, the other is Order.

And Jeongguk hates asking for help, hates needing it, but he can’t do anything else.

"Then what do I do? I need him."

Namjoon does something with his mouth that almost looks like a smirk. "You are lucky. Seokjin may have power over all our weaknesses, but he has a weakness of his own."

"He has a brother,” continues Hoseok, always following his brother and always with him. “Powerful too, but less than him. Or in a different way, at least. Seokjin would do anything for him."

Namjoon and Hoseok tilt their heads then, at the same time, and it’s just as creepy as when the clock struck midnight. But it is to be expected – they are the same thing, after all. Just in different forms.

"You won't be able to face Kim Seokjin. But Kim Taehyung, him you may be able to tame."

---

Namjoon and Hoseok, like Yoongi, have given him only a name to work with. Kim Taehyung is even stranger than his brother – he seems to be everywhere, but no one knows anything about him. They say he's powerful and they say he's weak, his power flowing and ebbing like waves of the sea Jeongguk controls. 

He doesn't understand this desire the Kim brothers seem to share, this wish to be near the humans. They ruin so much, with their petty fights and unreasonable wants. The gods depend on them to exist but Jeongguk's domain is the sea and he can't help but hate them for what they are doing to it, to him.

He is Jeongguk, but he also has been and is Olokun, Tiamat, Morskoi and so many others. But he will never have a human name.

No one seems to know what this Taehyung is god of. Jeongguk thinks about it, trying to figure out how to corner him, how to find him. He is related to Seokjin, so maybe a god of love? Of pregnancy or motherhood? Taehyung is a male name but gender has always been a human thing. The gods don't care and they take female and male forms going from one to another, sometimes refusing to settle on either. 

But it feels wrong somehow. Seokjin's domain is so big. Thinking his brother is the god of love seems too restrictive, too obvious and irrational at the same time. So he doesn't know and he can't understand, and it makes his blood boil.

He spends weeks asking around, looking for him. He makes a show of it, leaving his name everywhere so that Kim Taehyung will know who is after him. It’s a risky move, but Jeongguk can feel how the world is shifting after the death of the Allfather. How humans are abandoning them, letting deities that have served them since the first human was born fade away to nothing. It was hard before the Allfather died, but now faith is crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle and the gods are sinking like ships with pierced keels.

The prayers of sailors and wives waiting at home, the wonder of children swimming for the first time – it all keeps him alive, saves him from the worst. But for how long? Years? A decade? A century?

And then what? Will he die as the Young God? Will he fade away inexperienced, killed by a war among gods desperate to stay alive? No. He won’t.

He needs Kim Seokjin. And to get him, he needs his brother. So he looks for him, searches in every nook and cranny, screams his name in a void and gets no answer. He doesn’t give up.

He doesn't find Kim Taehyung. In the end, Kim Taehyung finds him.

---

“I don’t want to say this is all very underwhelming, but it kinda is.”

Dressed in a suit, a toothpick between his teeth; Kim Taehyung doesn’t look like the person Jeongguk has been desperately searching for. As he said himself, Jeongguk too was expecting so much – a mystery, an enigma, a terrible foe.

Kim Taehyung feels dangerous, yes, but he came to him so bluntly, so simply, that Jeongguk feels unbalanced.

“I have been looking for you,” he says, tone harsh. Jeongguk has been begging smaller gods for a scrap of information on Kim Taehyung and in the end, this is how it is? He just needed to wait and he would appear in front of him, unarmed and cocky?

Fucking gods with human names. Always so messy and irritating.

“Oh believe me, I know.”

The arrogant tone is what makes Jeongguk snap. If he was a more mature god, maybe he would’ve noticed how innaturaly angry he is. How quick his annoyance rose, how the desire to fight has taken hold of him in a span of seconds. How suspiciously emotional it is, even for him.

Jeongguk is not a mature god, and so he grabs Kim Taehyung by the lapels of his jacket and slams him against the wall.

“Are you playing with me?” he growls, eyes storming like the sea he commands. “Because I am not. I need something from you and you will give it to me.”

The loss of the Allfather, his uncontrolled powers, the need to prove himself and his failings at that – it all rises like high tide inside of him, threatening to spill. He can barely see Kim Taehyung’s stupid face with fury and helplessness clouding his sight.

But then he does see his face for a second. The Kim brother before him is smirking like a madman, happy to see Jeongguk like this. The fucking toothpick is still in his mouth as Jeongguk slams him against the wall again, then releases him like he’s burning his skin.

“What the fuck have you done to me?” he asks, hackles rising. The fury recedes, goes back to normal levels instead of threatening to suffocate him and it’s like a veil comes off his eyes.

Kim Taehyung looks exactly how he did seconds ago, except he doesn’t. It is there now, the mystery and the enigma, and power sits on his skin like morning dew on the fresh grass. He fixes his jacket, crinkled by Jeongguk’s hands and there is something red smeared on his white shirt.

“I did nothing, little sea god,” he throws a smirk at Jeongguk, playful and sharp. “You just… indulged in your own repressed emotion. With a little help, maybe.”

"You are a god of violence." Jeongguk says it with absolute certainty. He doesn’t let rage and bloodlust take him, never. The sea can be storms and tsunamis but there is far more danger in still waters that you don’t know the depth of.

Taehyung makes a displeased sound, rolls the toothpick between his teeth. "Violence? That sounds so crass. No, my domain is simply what humans must do to survive: fight.”

He says it so easily, like it’s not atrocious when humans destroy each other, when they pollute the waters with dead bodies and blood. No, he says it like it’s glorious and fun, a huge smile on his face as he talks.

“You know, in the end we aren't so different, you and I. You are born from the sea and I am born from blood. Just two different kinds of liquids."

“We,” he spits out, disgusted by the comparison, “couldn’t be more different. How can you mingle with humans and encourage their death in the same breath?”

“Ah little dolphin, so young. So naive.”

Jeongguk clenches his fists at the patronizing tone, but doesn’t give in. It’s Taehyung’s game and he won’t fall for it twice.

The blood-stained god chuckles at him and his gaze is a weapon on its own, one Jeongguk isn’t sure how to defend himself from. He takes one step towards him then a second one, and Jeongguk can only watch, too tense to do otherwise.

“Humans need to thrive and to thrive, they need to prevail. And for some to prevail, others need to lose.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, so detached. Maybe the Kim brothers don’t live on Earth because they love humanity more. Maybe they just want to be close when humans crash and burn, when they’ll collapse like a dying star.

Jeongguk doesn’t care. Humans are a tool, one they all need, but he has more pressing matters.

“Fine, the humans must fight each other. But the gods are different, better. We must stop them, must stop the gods from-"

"Stop the gods from what?” interrupts the other and this time he is the one who’s angry, tone sharp. “The humans are forgetting us, Jeongguk. They don't pray and they don't believe. If we have to fight to survive, just like they do, then we will."

"We are not like them. We have the power-"

"We?” He laughs loudly and Jeongguk reddens in shame as he recognizes the irony, but he doesn’t say more. “Who's this 'we' you are talking about? You are a god of the sea, younger than most. And I have no interest in stopping what's coming next."

Taehyung stomps towards him with purpose now, a predator cornering his prey. His eyes are blazing with fire and he seems sharper now, as if someone shaped his features to be cutting and deathly.

He is in front of Jeongguk now, shoulders wide and mouth in a thin line. The toothpick is still there.

"You think you are endless just because you rule over the sea? Your domain is vast, but there's something that reaches much further than that."

His voice is deep and Jeongguk can almost feel it rumbling in his chest, his bones. Kim Taehyung carries himself like he’s a loaded gun, a keen-edged blade, and Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is, that with eyes like those he could be.

Taehyung speaks with his deep voice, looks at him with deep eyes, and Jeongguk feels like what men dying on the battlefield must feel.

"A dam can stop the sea. But nothing can stop war."

or: The king of all gods is dead. In an era where people do not believe in gods anymore, the deities are weak and almost disappearing. They have to fight among themselves and the ones to prevail will be the gods who stay. The others, forgotten. 

Gods change. At least, most gods do. So Jeongguk is the new version of the god of the sea, a young deity. And he has no intention to die so soon.

He needs to solve the mystery. Who killed the Allfather? Why? Why now? To solve the puzzle, he will need help. And that won't be simple, not at all.

The Kim brothers are a different kind of god. Every god is born from people, but they are born among them. They can't rise to the Dilmun, the land of the gods. They aren't involved with the Allfather's death, but it is very convenient for them.

Until something tries to kill them.

Whoever killed the Allfather doesn't want any of the old gods around, not even the rejected ones like Seokjin and Taehyung. Taehyung thrives on war. But maybe, he needs to wage war on the right people.

The second time he appears in front of Jeongguk, it ends with a pact between the two of them. Jeongguk, the young god with the legacy of thousands of other deities, will protect the Kim brothers and find a way to let them in the Dilmun. Taehyung, the old god robbed of his own birthright, will help Jeongguk find what he needs. The oath they take is unbreakable and ties them until their ends are met.

The god of the sea and the god of war will march together this once, even if it's only for a while.

They make an Oath. Despite what Yoongi told him last time, words do have power and words spoken by gods... the pact they make is unbreakable, infinite. They are linked now, entertwined. They have power one over the other.

And thank fuck they do. Taehyung is... reckless, to put it very mildly.

Sure, he is a god born by war and blood. But is it really necessary to try and resolve everything with violence?

They need a diversion. Taehyung proposes to spill blood. They need to get in someone's good graces. Taehyung looks out for enemies he can kill. They need information. Taehyung wants to capture someone and stab them until they speak.

Jeongguk has to spend so much time reining him in, it's starting to be ridiculous.

He believes in order and diplomacy and being sneaky. Taehyung believes in barging in and scaring people to death. Their Oath binds them, so they both spend much of their time "tugging" each other through the Oath.

(Which basically means that Jeongguk has to restrain Taehyung from murdering everyone while Taehyung sometimes enjoys egging Jeongguk on until he is the one unleashing chaos and Taehyung can watch him while sipping on a glass of wine.)

Tae sacrificed his pride when he asked gguk's help and gguk will NEVER let him forget that, the annoying little shit

So of course working together and being near each other all the time isn't bad at all 👀👀 gguk won't admit that he's attracted to Tae tho and he blames seokjin sksksjskskss

Tae: r u done undressing me with your eyes? ;)))

Gguk: what?? Me??? How- what??? how dare u. I Would Never. It's your brother's influence!!!!

Jin: you two are DISGUSTING just make out and stop blaming me

But as they get to know each other better they also get to know their similarities – Gguk is afraid to never live up to his legacy, Tae knows that no matter what he'll always be considered a "lesser god". They are dismissed by other gods in a similar way and so they start to defend each other bc they know what is like when no one stands up for you :')))

At some point they get close to discovering what happened to the Allfather but they are attacked. Gguk leaves unscathed, bc his status as a major god makes him immune to certain weapons, but Tae is hurt very badly :((( cue gguk showing everyone exactly how violent can the sea be >:)) he wrecks and destroys everyone involved in the attack and he starts to be feared by ppl who dismissed him so easily >:))) when Tae wakes up he is so pissed lmao he can't believe he missed gguk wrecking havoc ALL ON HIS OWN his baby is grown :''))

Gguk: Tae... I did something wrong... I obliterated everyone in an extremely violent matter

Tae: and you DIDN'T INVITE ME???? BITCH!!! 

ok not to be NSFW but... Since they are gods and they live through prayers they both have a major praise kink 👀 the first time they Do The Deed™, Tae spends HOURS just worshiping gguk's body and just TELLING him what he wants to do with him and gguk is so riled up 🤤🤤

(NSFW) gguk literally comes as soon as Tae touches him that time and Tae brags about it for the rest of their lives lmao

(NSFW)

Gguk: and this is why I'm not listening to your advice.

Tae: remember when I made you cum just by talking to you??? My words were important back then 😪😪 you used to listen to me 😪😪

Gguk: can u stOP!!! IT HAS BEEN 20 YEARS!!!! AND IT ISNT RELEVANT RIGHT NOW!!!! 

btw since they are immortal they flirt for like 149 years and everyone around them is Tired™ but they are still like "he isn't my boyfriend!!! I don't like him at all!!!!" and the other r just like

[viking of disapproval meme]

WAIT INTERMISSION this meme is Taehyung in one image, just imagine gguk trying to have a normal conversation with someone for info and Tae is sitting next to him like this

[violence works for her meme]

ok I don't have anything else to add stan immortal dumbasses taekook who take like 3839 to """officially""" get together

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Okay but imagine for a second

You’re Bruce Wayne, Batman

The richest, smartest man in every room you have walked into since you turned 20

Every bit of information is at the tip of your fingertips money, brawn and brains are no object

And then you take in a child

Named Dick Grayson

From the circus, who has the most flimsy proof of his existence you’ve ever seen with a birth certificate that looks too worn to properly make out the parents named without knowing them before.

No passport despite traveling all over the globe

No form of identification

So you give the kid an ID and everything is fine

He becomes Robin

Joins a team

Becomes nightwing

Runs all the teams

Becomes Batman

Runs himself into the ground

And then Dicks in his 20s and he’s sick

Really sick

It’s not viral, fungal, parasitic or bacterial

No one else you know has this

And he’s getting sicker

He can’t walk without help and spends all his days wrapped up in blankets fighting off never ending shivers.

He mixes up his brothers names and sometimes outright forgets some of the kids

He didn’t recognize Kori a few weeks ago and hasn’t remembered her since

So Everytime he blearily asks “who are you again?” They All answer with the knowledge that this might be the him decaying blue eyes don’t spark with recognition

The first time it happened it was horror and tears “an Oh my god! I’m so sorry I love you you’re my brother” over time it’s devolved into an “oh right…hi Jason”

And the doctors ask for his family history

Maybe. Maybe there is something that could save him, bring him back or stop this descent… this fall from happening to the most untouchable man that’s ever lived.

(Tim threw up after he saw Dick burst into tears, head resting on Alfred’s shoulder when he realized he couldn’t walk without help- they need to stop this)

So they dig

And dig

And dig

And nothing

There’s no evidence of the Graysons before John, the Lloyd’s before Mary.

Neither had been to a doctor anytime in the states at least

Bruce had redone all of Dicks vaccines once he acquired guardianship of him.

There was nothing

Nothing on his aunts or the uncle that was his namesake

There’s just nothing

Bruce realizes he doesn’t even know Dicks ethnic background. 1000s of tests he’s ran and he doesn’t even know if Dick has ever been to his parents home countries

They do every test they can come up with to try and fake a comprehensive family history

Mary Grayson was a fake name

So way John

They don’t know the real ones

Bruce finds out the mother of his son is Syrian and Romani and the boys first father is Afghani and Italian.

He finds out Mary’s father fled from Syria during the 60s and settled in Germany

He finds out that John Grayson and his brother were orphans together

He can’t even tell you which one of them gave Dick his blood type.

He knows everything

He’s the smartest man in every room he’s ever walked into

And he won’t be able to save his son

Because the boy who holds Bruce Wayne’s very heart in his hands knows that the best way to stay in the shadows is simply to show so little everyone will fill in blank spots with jarring inaccuracies so seamlessly they won’t even notice they did it.

They’ve called everyone

And Dick just keeps getting sicker

[peepoo79]

More hospital AU content 👀

((TW: Once again, Bateman being himself. Misogyny, medical malpractice, blood, medical abuse, his colleagues being creeps low key))

[dlldior]

the day people start depicting sebastian as the goth/punk baddie he is in modern aus is the day the angels will get their wings back

[fvedyetor]

I had too much free time (procrastination) and inspiration hit me like a truck (american flag stars as the stars in sigma's manga design) and well I went a bit overboard :)

i had way too much fun with this

JAW DROPPPPPPPP ON THE FLOOORRRRRR OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING HES SO <3 <3 🇺🇸🇺🇸

hes americas magical girl that we so desperately need 🙏🙏 sigma bless america

[yoinkschief]

I finally made a reference for that character I already introduced in the story 😭😭

In this story BTW I feel it's important to reiterate here - Ellsworld characters exist as completely separate entities from the main cast, they're not just female versions of them:

Elana is Eduardo's older sister (by like a year and a half but it's enough for her to hold it over his head)

Tamara is Tom's cousin (I felt like they just had to be related with the eye thing)

Matilda is Matt's step sister

Ell and Edd used to be friends in kindergarten all throughout middle school until Ell had to move

Tori and Tord have no relation to each other, they just so happen to look very similar to each other, and hate each other low key high key (moreso Tord hates Tori because she was Tom's first girlfriend [which he only dated her BECAUSE she looked like Tord but that's a whole story thing] and tried to make her life hell so she would leave Tom, and Tori hates Tord because,, well, of what he did lol)

Jon and Mark's female counterparts exist but aren't relevant to the story,,

[jouyato]

I have not finished the game yet (a single route takes so long!!!!) but I have brainworms abt these two so have some good old AU fanart

[jtl-fics]

But also... Andreil on the great British bake off (they have celebrity seasons)

Look, I'm gonna be honest.

It's a disaster in two parts.

Neil is there EXPLICITLY because Stuart found out that he had been asked to go do it because he is technically British. Stuart has asked him to be the bane of Paul Hollywood's existence and is willing to do quite a bit to make the man's life hell.

"He knows what he did." is all Stuart will say on the matter.

Neil agrees to come be a Baker on the stipulation that Andrew also gets to come. Andrew has no interest in baking other than what it can produce for him to eat, he has no desire to do the laborious task of baking himself.

Stuart offers him an Aston.

Andrew agrees.

Neil is a nightmare in the tent. He hates desserts. He hates measuring. He has never done a single prep bake. He has no idea what the desserts are during the technical challenge. He just goes with his gut (his iron gut). He produces three straight desserts that Paul will not let Prue eat for fear that she will just straight up die if she eats it. He is a pile of misery upon consuming all three.

When Neil is kicked off in round one no one is surprised. Paul pats Neil on the back as he leaves the tent and Neil just leans in, "Stuart Hatford sends his regards." he says now that the mic has been removed. Paul Hollywood's tan fades but Neil doesn't look back.

Andrew is a nightmare for a completely different reason and that reason is that he very visibly and honestly does not give a single flying fuck about what he's doing but he's doing quite well. He is the most boring man on camera, zero quips, won't interact with Noel and whoever the fuck is the other presenter by this point, just him doing exactly what the recipe requires and then he always makes a point of grabbing whatever Paul and Prue have judged and taking it all back to his station so that he can eat it. He stares straight into the camera as he eats an entire three tier cake. He dedicates every week he is Star Baker to his inspiration: Kevin Day.

Andrew makes it all the way to the Finals with impressive bakes that he basically just decided on 100% by how much he thinks it would upset Kevin to watch him eat it knowing that he SHOULD be doing weight training for the olympics. ("Weight TRAINING not Weight GAINING Andrew! Do you have to hold up two fingers as you eat the entire thing? Can you at least PRETEND it's not to SPITE me?" Kevin wails as Andrew calls him for the post-credit scene where the star bakers call their families usually but Andrew just uses it so everyone can hear Kevin Day lose his mind on Public Access.)

Andrew gets to the finals and his show stopper....it's immaculate. It's gorgeous. It's a work of art. Paul Hollywood is looking at this feat of modern baking engineering in wonder.

He shakes Andrew's hand before he even tastes it and-

"Stuart Hatford sends his regards."

Paul Hollywood is now nervous to eat this cake. Does he look out at the gathered friends and family of the contestants and see Stuart Hatford? Does he remember what he did?

He eats the cake because show obligations and it tastes as good as it looks but he is oddly silent as Prue talks about it.

Andrew Wins and Paul Hollywood stays exactly one entire party's width away from Neil, Stuart, and Andrew during the entire victory picnic.

Andrew gives his post bake-off speech and flat out says it was kind of boring and he wants to go home to America. The next scene is him driving off with Neil in an Aston Martin.

Edit: Thanks @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm for the idea once again!

[torchstelechos]

AU where I make Loop Siffrin's emotional support possum that they carry around

[dontfindmeimscared]

Sorry I have a few questions, I just really like this idea,

1 - is there anything you can tell us about your au?

2 - Like is Leo kinda fused with the tech or can he take it off?

3 - Does he get a bit possessive over it? I feel like his mind might be all over the place if he’s been in the PD

4 - what will the others think of it?

I had more but I can’t remember then 🙈 but I really can’t wait to see more

Don't apologise! I love answering questions about my aus :D

1. I'm trying to think of something that isn't too spoilery? Just gonna list a few things about it. I think I said before that it's gonna have a happy ending, Leo's gonna get home eventually but the Prison Dimension also runs on slightly different time so he's gotta survive for a good bit before that. Oh yeah, Mikey can't open the portal at the end of the movie - they have to open it like how the foot clan did so that's some extra time for Leo to bond with the Krang ig. I also really wanna go a little into some of my own headcanons about the Krang when they were in the PD which I think will be really cool when I get to draw them :]

2. Yes and No. The mask comes off and the arm/leg protectors can probably get removed too but Leo built the chestplate thing around himself to protect his shell so homeboy is stuck in that thing. (His shell likely also fused to the metal when it was healing so it wouldn't come off easy)

3. Yep! The chestplate especially since it's a pretty important source of protection for him. His family would probs want rid of the armour as soon as possible but Leo would be pretty reluctant to let any of it go.

4. They hate it! Donnie wanted to cut Leo out of that chestplate the moment he was home safe but Leo refused for ages to let him anywhere near it. Casey Jr also really hates the mask so Leo would hide that in his room until he'd be ready to get rid of it. They're all pretty worried about him for a long time afterwards and Leo not letting them treat his shell does not help in the slightest.

[ask-teambaam]

if you were a pro athlete, what sport would you play?

rapid-fire style again (☝︎ ՞ਊ ՞)☝︎these are fun!

viole: volleyball or baseball!

khun: soccer (or football, as he says) or figure skating

rak: ice hockey

hatz: wrestling

hockney: …fishing? that’s definitely not a sport

elaine: equestrian (but no horses???)

endorsi: gymnastics

anaak: boxing

me: real football! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

-isu

[hideyseek]

JUST LEARNED that the chinese name for inception the movie is 盗梦空间 daomeng kongjian, which translates roughly to "dream theft space" !!!

[bonefall]

since bb is an au now i wanted to ask if the medicine cat rank would be changed at all namewise? ik the tribe has been completely reworked but the medicine cat name was also a pretty heavily contested against thing in regards to warriors anti-indigenous writing

Already done! I have been calling them Clerics for several months now, since even before it was an AU, and no one notices unless I point it out.

I chose Cleric because I want it to be obvious I am approaching them with Christian coding in mind. In Clanmew, the word for a Cleric is "Shomgorrl," "Moon-Rank," contrasting a leader, "Shaigorrl," "Star-Rank."

[looligan318]

Actually, I Want to Say Thank You All

I'm sorry for being such a mess on this Tumblr site. You guys were actually all very supportive and so helpful. I truly, truly appreciate that.

You guys helped me figure out how to handle Tumblr, how to find the comments, how to reply, how to find svsss posts, how to block, and even go around tumblr's nsfw restrictions.

But in truth, the lands here are not suitable for Looli's growth. There's not enough nutrients in the soil and so much herbicide had been applied that the lands has not, and may never fully, recover.

Looli wished desperately that Tumblr would work, but Looli has to go back to Twitter.

[hier--soir]

I always read your posts in an American accent, but I want to try it in an Australian one!

On a random note, is it really an Aussie thing to call your Dad by his first name? I saw Chris Hemsworth’s post on IG and in the video his son calls him Chris. And they’re both okay with that? But people from outside of Australia were commenting on how disrespectful that was of his son to practice that?

hahaha i’m spitting naur’s in the dms like no one else😮‍💨🤝🏼

and well, i don’t call my dad at all lmao. i do use his name when referring to him, but that’s just cause we hardly talk and dad feels too familiar.

i know people that talk about their dads using their first name, but usually not when speaking directly to him. definitely nothing disrespectful about it in my eyes though if it’s a normal thing in someone’s family!