#And he's in Croc's territory not the other way around

[cxpperhead]

🔪

Send 🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body.

The sewers are not one of Copperhead's favourite haunts. While the darkness is a thing he's comfortable with, the cold and the damp rubs his scales the wrong way and the rank stench of Gotham's Underbelly fogs his sense of smell for hours. It's only when desperate prey slips into the sewers that Copperhead is forced to follow after them, and from what he's heard during his time in Gotham, it's a place he does well to avoid. Imagine his surprise when he learns he's not the only reptilian metahuman in the world. It's part of the reason why Copperhead came all the way to Gotham in the first place despite the horrid winters. Sure, the opportunity to commit crime more freely had its allure but the thought that he's not alone, that he's not just one scaled freak in a world of normal people had him wistful for... something - he didn't know what, but he made the long trek from Arizona to here all the same. Now that he was staring down into the open sewer, Copperhead was wondering if perhaps he'd made the wrong choice. He didn't know much about this Killer Croc, only that he was large, and especially dangerous. A scaled behemoth who skulked beneath Gotham's streets and struck fear into the hearts of those who caught a glimpse of him, but he existed. Copperhead had watched the news, read articles to know there was truth to them, but he didn't know how well one like him would be received, or even welcomed as a kindred spirit. It wasn't as though there were welcome signs hanging up in places, but his quarry had slipped down here so it must be safe enough to venture into for now. Serpentine tongue flickers to access his surroundings as Copperhead descends the slime-coated walls. There are scents everywhere amidst the stench of humid rot and fetid water, of rats and their leavings. There's rotten food littered here and there too, dropped or scavenged by the teaming rodent hordes that threaten to swell before too long but Copperhead filters them out, instead focusing on the scent that drew him here... There! A lingering scent rubbed against the wall betrays where the one he was hunting has gone and Copperhead continues on, his eyes on the water at all times in fears (or hopes) of seeing a pair not so different his own. Was Killer Croc even down here? Or was he elsewhere, in another part of the city perhaps? Copperhead supposed it didn't matter much right now. He would cross that bridge when he came to it, but first he had a rat to catch and pursued his target relentlessly, eventually cornering him not five minutes later.

The last gasps of a dying man is rarely pleasant to hear. Copperhead is hanging over the water, claws clutching the ceiling as the struggling figure in his coils thrashes and squirms, growing weaker as the seconds pass. It's not long before white-knuckled fingers let go of his tail and sag bonelessly before Copperhead snaps the neck to make sure the man is well and truly dead, and then he freezes. There's another scent in the air though, and the serpent metahuman glances around, at the shadows and the waters before noticing he's no longer quite as alone as he thought. He looks guilty as all hell holding a dead body, and in Croc's territory no less but it's all Copperhead can do but speak out loud, and politely no less to let the sewer's true inhabitant he meant no harm. "Sorry, I hope he wasn't one of yours." The snake-like metahuman comments softly, wincing a little at how sound reverberate down here in these depths. It's a stark reminder that the surface is quite a bit further away than he likes, if Croc isn't the welcoming sort and sees this intrusion as some sort of challenge.

[kaijutegu]

Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.

1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.

Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.

Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.

Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.

2. They understand the social needs of their animals.

Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.

For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...

3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.

The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.

Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.

But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.

4. Ethical Interactions

I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.

When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.

Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.

Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.

And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.

5. Shared Research Results

St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)

Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/

All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:

(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)

[radiance1]

Damian has beef with a homeless kid. Both as a Wayne, and as Robin.

As a Wayne, Damian being alone outside was a rare thing. Most of the time a sibling would be accompanying him or wouldn't be too far off, but he was well and truly alone for the first in a while.

Then he stepped into an alleyway and nearly got hit in the face. It wasn't unexpected, considering this is Gotham, but it's unusual for a thief to be bare-handed.

They then devolved into a fistfight and, while the other boy's form has at least some foundation it was pitiful in comparison to the Demon's Heir and the son of Batman. But the boy had quite a lot of power that he threw around with his punches and kicks, power that Damian used against him while simultaneously dodging his attacks.

There was an invisible line that the boy refused to let him cross that led deeper into the alleyway, and he somehow managed to do exactly that. Looping Damian right back to their starting positions at the start of this fight, Damian at the mouth and the unknown at the middle point.

Damian then caught sight of familiar green scales, a groan, and a very familiar voice calling out "Kid...?" The boy in front of him seemed, genuinely, panicked at the voice's interruption, but not with fear.

But with worry.

So then Damian left, pushing away each and every notion that he should detain Killer Croc right then and there with the logic that he didn't even have his uniform and the proper equipment to effectively deal with someone of Killer Croc's powerset.

Somehow, whenever he was alone from his siblings, he's always met the boy, whom he learned was called Danny via overhearing Killer Croc speaking to him. Their meetings always started in a fight, and ended with no victor as Damian sneaked away as soon as Killer Croc made his presence known.

No wonder he's been so quiet, it seemed he either had a child or found one.

===

As Robin, Damian would admit that he was caught off guard by the same boy who acted as Killer Crocs 'bodyguard' (either for the mutant himself, or everyone else. He doesn't care enough to find out) and would say it was a good move.

But that was as much praise as he was willing to give.

Robin recognized Danny at first glance, if not in looks than surely the fighting style he was familiarized with over the past few months. A mixture between refined and wild.

As always, he threw far more power than his body should allow for someone of his build and age, so perhaps he was a mutant as well. It didn't matter, what did, however, was how each of the punches thrown could punch straight through a wall.

Robin never let himself get hit fully to test if it could as easily pierce the human body as well.

As usual, Robin was either redirecting, outright dodging or blocking (when he wasn't able to dodge just right enough for the attack to not hit him) the attacks that came his way. And, as always, wherever it seemed Killer Croc went, Danny went as well.

Wherever Killer Croc found this boy, Robin would give him credit for being able to choose his protegees correctly.

Robin let no one else deal with Danny whenever he's on scene along with Killer Croc. His father wouldn't even fight him unless it was necessary, most of the time busy with Killer Croc himself, Nightwing was occupied in his own territory, as well as Red Hood.

Robin would not so humbly refuse to even entertain the idea of Red Robin as a candidate.

When Killer Croc escaped, Robin let his opponent chase after his guardian to nurse the wounds that came, more often than not, from counters to his own attacks.

He always had an excuse ready as for the why.

===

Damian Wayne saw something surprising, when he met Danny again.

Robin's own attack being thrown at him.

Of course, it was sloppy and almost painful to look at. But it still surprised Damian, nonetheless.

He spent some time effectively guiding Danny to perform the attack to an at least practical level. Not that Danny asked, or he offered, but it was easy to guide the flow of the fight to what he wanted.

===

Robin was surprised. Not to any great level, but it caught him off guard.

Danny had almost perfectly countered his attack.

It was still sloppy in some places, needed a bit more refining and a great less of the power that was unconsciously behind it. Other than that, it was performed that Damian could say he was almost impressed.

Danny landed a hit on him, and he was quite sure he may have broken a rib, bruised his chest, or both.

So of course, he ruthlessly beat the boy into the ground while pointing out each and every flaw in his technique. Then let him run off after his... master? Father?

He does not know the significance of the role Killer Croc plays to the boy, but he let him run away after him back to the sewer systems.

Of course, an excuse already on lips for his father to hear, and even better, physical evidence to back up his claim.

[the-music-maniac]

I get a little annoyed when people's complaints about zosan stray into the "Sanji would never fall for Zoro because of personal hygiene issues" territory. Mostly because I feel like it involves a fundamental misunderstanding about their dynamic and also Sanji as a character.

First of all, Sanji smokes cigarettes and cooks seafood and shit. Even if he does shower daily, there is no way he smells like a rose garden. So there's that.

Second of all, Sanji is a COOK. You literally cannot be a cook if you're afraid of getting your hands dirty, if you're afraid of working up a sweat. He knows the value of hard work in that regard. For his craft, Sanji gets all up in some fish guts, he hunts, he cleans, de-feathers, skins, butchers whatever creature they've managed to hunt - come on y'all. That is not a man that would be a germaphobe. He keeps his workspace and himself clean cause that's the mark of a good cook, but the man would have no qualms about getting dirty. He ain't squeamish.

Third, Sanji's entire thing is that he ACTS like a refined gentleman, but he's a little bit batshit crazy in the same way all the strawhats are. He's one of the monster trio for a reason! They're all freaking unhinged, Sanji's first reaction to seeing sea monsters is to yell that he wants to cook it. He's fought so many battles, I've no doubt that there's blood soaked into the soles of his fancy loafers, caked into some of the hems of his suit pants. My point being that while him acting like he's a gentleman with "refined tastes" is no means deception (he probably has excellent taste when it comes to dining) he also doesn't fit that description entirely. He strives for it, in order to maintain an image, and it also plays into his whole "ladies man" thing as well. But he's not actually a refined gentleman in our traditional interpretation of the word. He's down to slum it if needed, and will kick a person's ass for not finishing a soup that has a bug in it because it would mean wasting food. Also the man has worn orange crocs. Refined my ass.

Fourth, you can deny it all you want, but Zoro and Sanji have always been and will likely always be, two people that match each other's freak. And by that I mean that all it takes is Zoro muttering one little disparaging comment, and Sanji is immediately there, ready to throw down, dirt and sweat be damned. If he were to complain about Zoro's supposed bathing habits and shit, while I don't doubt some of it would be genuine complaint, it probably would mostly be because it would annoy Zoro. But when it comes down to stuff Sanji actually gives a shit about, hygiene would probably not be high up on that list. He is 100% that motherfucker that would get heart eyes over Zoro eating sugar onigiri out of the mud to spare a little girl's feelings.

I get annoyed by people using that argument as if it's a legitimate reasoning for why Zoro and Sanji wouldn't get together. Like what impression of Sanji do you have in your head? You think the dude that constantly knocks foreheads with Zoro during their antagonistic (gay) posturing would get squeamish about Zoro being a little sweaty? Sanji can be your babygirl if you want, but we gotta stop acting like he's the type to get squeamish over stuff like that - there's no way that out of ALL the issues Sanji has yet to work through locked up in that pretty noggin of his, that personal hygiene would be the hold up on a relationship between these two. The zosan dynamic is Sanji complains loudly about Zoro being a disgusting brute and then will turn around and roundhouse kick a man's head off. Like yes, Sanji. That's not the pot calling the kettle black at all.

None of this is a complaint btw. That's literally my favourite part about Sanji, and Zosan as a whole. Sanji wouldn't be nearly as interesting if he was just a gentleman. Zosan wouldn't be as compelling if they weren't two lil peas in a pod, equally as unhinged. The only difference is Zoro puts literally no effort into trying to hide his level of derangement. Which is also very in character for him, btw.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

There's definitely a conversation to be had about the presentation of real historical figures in historical fiction, I think. As both a professional historian (PhD student 🤘🏾😔) and a man of color, I'm a bit more sensitive to this than a lot of people, and for me it always comes down to the question - what real harm is being done here?

And that's where I think OFMD does well enough for me to be comfortable. If you look at the fact that the show is based on real-life terrible people who did awful things and participated in the slave trade and you don't wanna fuck with the show, that's completely understandable, but I find it so much more palatable than (for the easy comparison) a piece of media like Black Sails (I actually like Black Sails, believe it or not, but there are a lot of things about how it treats many of these same figures that make me uncomfortable).

Now, yes, OFMD is hand-wavey with the slave trade in the Caribbean. None of our main characters own slaves or directly reference the slave trade (again, this is a romcom, I'd be shocked if they did). For me, this works alright for two big reasons. First, there are things that I think you can include in a romcom and have it still be a romcom, and a thoughtful, respectful depiction of the slave trade would take the show firmly out of romcom territory. Second, the show doesn't pretend racism doesn't exist, it treats its characters of color as three-dimensional people, and we always get the last laugh when racism is depicted. The very first episode sets the scene by having racist English Navy officers demean and call a Black character "slave" and they immediately get their asses kicked for it. Compare this to a show like Black Sails, where one of my main criticisms is how we're expected to sympathize with characters who actively participate in the slave trade and own slaves.

My other thing here is the people OFMD is working with are both heavily mythologized and not treated with any degree of historical accuracy. Many of our characters who are famous pirate names you might know are nothing like their real-world counterparts (take pirate queen Zheng Yi Sao, who wasn't even born yet when the show takes place). We know so little about any of the real people, anyway, that OFMD doesn't even bother trying to get anything right.

Like I said, I'm a professional historian and I love working with the golden age of piracy. That's a big reason I was drawn to this show in the first place! And if there's one thing I know, it's that pirates have been made into legends. We know very little about the real people, and in pop culture they're just myths.

The characters in OFMD are basically fictional characters working with the loose mythology based around the real people.

Now, back to my big thesis here: are the real, awful people benefitting in any way from OFMD taking these characters and making them into the good guys? Realistically, no, I'd argue. Most people with any critical thinking skills know that real pirates were not good people. Many people think Blackbeard is a made-up generic pirate character as it is. I've been to the real-life Stede Bonnet's grave site (NOT for the show, this was years before it aired and I was visiting the archives there to see the trial documents for a research project), and the historic marker there says he was "brought to justice." No one is wataching this show and thinking "oh those real guys must have been pretty great dudes!" because it's not about those real people.

This show isn't trying to change your perception of the real people, it's showing you fictional characters with the same names. One of our characters is runnig around in crocs, this show isn't trying to teach you about history or the real people and it's obvious.

If you're put off by the premise, I get it! But I just don't buy the idea that OFMD is putting anything harmful into the world just by existing.

[discordantwritings]

Our Precious Assistant Pt. 3 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn!afab reader, sub!reader, sub!Buggy, dom!Mihawk, dom!Crocodile, exhibitionism, vouyerism, cockwarming, PiV sex, oral sex, mastrubation, inappropriate use of Buggy’s devil fruit powers, creampie

WC: 4.3k

Summary: You get some much needed TLC and start your new work routine. Which, of course, involves some fooling around at work.

Note: I mean it was only a matter of time before Buggy’s dick being detachable was going to come up. I hope you guys like the dynamics in this one with not everyone participating at once but everyone still getting some love.

You realize you’re sore before you realize you’re awake. Slowly remembering the events of last night and earlier it all makes sense. Buggy’s arms are wrapped tight around your midsection and you have just enough room to twist around in his grasp.

His face paint had gotten washed off at some point and you can’t help but admire his features without the layer of makeup. Tracing your fingers over his jaw you feel the stubble there, coarse but the sensation isn’t bad.

Your touch stirs Buggy awake and without opening his eyes he pull you in tighter.

“Just five more minutes…” He mumbles, his face buried in your chest.

“Buggy it’s late we should get up.” You press a kiss to the top of his head and push him, but he’s stronger than you.

“Mmmm but I like where I am.” He nuzzles in and you feel that stubble rub against you.

“But I need to take a shower or something.” At this Buggy perks up, withdrawing his face from your boobs. “Croc has the best bathtub.”

So that’s how you ended up soaking with Buggy in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen. It comfortably fits both of you and you’re pretty sure one or two more people could squeeze in here. Despite how much space you could have you’re right next to Buggy, leaning into his shoulder while you let the warm water soothe your body. Buggy has put heaps of bath salts and other soaps into the bath and the fragrances nearly put you back to sleep.

“Next time we should wait until we aren’t already bruised to get in trouble.” You muse.

“Sorry to break the news but you’re never not going to be bruised. Both of them love marking their territory.” Buggy leans and grabs some shampoo from the side of the bath. You take the bottle from him and he shoots you a confused look.

“Let me wash your hair.” You offer.

His eyes light up and you can’t help but giggle as he eagerly repositions himself in front of you. You take your time with his long blue hair and revel in the intimacy of the moment. When you’re done he returns the favor and you feel the remaining tension leave your body as he scrubs shampoo into your scalp. The both of your are just as languid finishing bathing and you don’t hop out until the bath has gone cold.

It takes a bit to get dressed again since your clothes had been thrown to every corner of the room but you manage to get dressed- well, most of the way.

“Buggy? Have you seen my underwear?” You call out, your check under the bed unsuccessful.

“Me? No. I mean I don’t think you came in wearing any.” His words have you immediately whipping around to look at him.

The edge of your underwear hangs out of his pocket while he wears a shit eating grin. You sigh and slip on your pants knowing you won’t win this battle.

“Let’s go get some dinner.” It’s been way too long since you last ate and after all your body has been through you need to recharge.

“Let’s get Croc and Mihawk one of them always pays for the good stuff.” Buggy takes your arm in his as you walk out of the bedroom and to the offices.

You find Mihawk and Crocodile in their respective offices and it’s doesn’t take much convincing to drag them out to dinner. True to Buggy’s predictions you get a secluded VIP table at a restaurant where prices aren’t even listed on the menu.

You sat next to Crocodile while Buggy and Mihawk sat across from you. They caught you up on what you missed for the day and you were surprised at how mundane it all was. This is just the way your life is now, catching up on the day with three of the most dangerous pirates in the world over dinner.

Crocodile’s large hand was on your thigh all dinner. Surprisingly it never drifted too far in he just left it resting on the top of your thigh, only occasionally squeezing. The touch kept you grounded as you chatted easily through dinner with your new partners. When going back home was brought up at the end of the night you hesitated.

“I think I’m going back to my place tonight.” When Buggy looked particularly dejected you elaborated a bit. “I can’t come into work tomorrow wearing the clothes I wore yesterday.”

“Of course you can. Anyone who even looks at you wrong will get a limb cut off.” Buggy says simply, but thankfully Mihawk is the voice of reason.

“No it makes sense, I’m sure you need some time to yourself after all of this.” Mihawk’s words calm you down, making you more confident in your choice.

“But I think I will make sure to pack an overnight back to have at the office. Just in case.” That comment gets Buggy’s mood up again, and his smile is infectious.

Dinner ends on a high note and by the time you leave the sky is dark and the wind chills you a bit, you weren’t dressed for todays weather. You’re about to excuse yourself to power walk home when a heavy coat drapes over your shoulders.

The thick smell of cigar smoke and fur tickling your neck means you don’t even have to turn to see that it’s Crocodile’s coat on your back. You pull it tighter around you, practically swimming in the dark fabric.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You say awkwardly, unsure how goodbyes work in your new situation.

All three of them look at you a bit confused and you can’t help but be confused back.

“We are escorting you home.” Mihawk says like it’s an obvious fact and he takes your arm as he walks by you and in the direction of your apartment.

“Yeah, duh. Can’t have our star walking alone on the streets at night.” Buggy is on your other side, unattached hands gesturing.

You don’t have to look behind you to know Crocodile is bringing up the rear, his imposing presence tingling on your back.

Buggy fills most of the walk home with crazy stories that you’re not sure are true but you enjoy none the less. You’re at your door before you know it and Buggy pulls you off of Mihawk and into a big hug.

“I’m so happy you’re with me.” There’s a beat before he corrects himself. “Us.”

You hug him back and as you pull away you press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy too.”

Someone must be glaring at him because Buggy shrinks away to let the other two come closer. Mihawk lightly presses against your arm and you turn to face him.

“Goodnight darling.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a quick kiss to your lips before waiting further away with Buggy.

You shrug off Crocodile’s jacket and offer it to him. He pauses a second before taking it and draping it over his arm.

“Thank you. For everything.” You say, smiling up at him.

“We are just getting started.” He places a kiss to your forehead. “We will see you tomorrow.”

You can feel the blush on your cheeks from all of the sweet gestures as you wave at the three of them before slinking back into your apartment. A wide smile never left your face as you went to bed, excited for what life has in store for you.

Life changed but life stayed the same. Work still had to be done and they were still your bosses but of course none of them let that stop their affections. Hands on your back and shoulders as they passed by your desk, quick kisses when they got in for the day. You have to admit you’ve never been more motivated to do your work when the reward is getting a kiss.

But of course not all of their actions were so chaste. You would’ve thought Buggy would be the worst offender of dragging you off to fool around at work but it was far and away Crocodile. Being called into his office to help with paperwork always ended up with you in a compromising position- but you weren’t complaining.

“Sir- Mihawk is expecting a report-“

“Hawkeyes can wait.” You felt the low rumble of his voice throughout your body as you sat in his lap at his desk. Your chest pressed to his as you rested your head on his shoulder. Seeing you from above the desk this might have been a cute scene, you sitting with him as he worked on his paperwork. But below the desk your boss’ pants were open just enough so he could be inside you while he worked.

You had been sitting like this for an hour now, maybe more, warming his cock while you struggled not to move. Your thighs ached from being in this position and slick dripped down onto Crocodile’s lap. You’d be concerned about ruining his incredibly expensive pants if you could form coherent thoughts. The fullness you’ve been experiencing, the ache, being on edge for so long, it caused your head to empty into just a buzz. You had only remembered Mihawk when you glanced down at your watch and realized just how long you had been in this position.

Your arms were latched around your boss’ neck and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. You focused on your breathing and keeping your body relaxed- a feat that had gotten much easier as time went on with the tension in your body unable to hold itself for so long. In the back of your mind you wonder if that’s what Crocodile likes about this- having you completely docile and submissive- wearing you down to just your base instincts. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit you like this too. Not having to think or move and just existing in the moment is a kind of peace you didn’t think you would find sitting on Crocodile’s dick.

A knock on the door sends a small wave of panic through your body as you sit up at the noise- a mistake. The movement sends a fresh wave of pleasure over your over sensitive body and you bite your tongue to stifle a moan. Crocodile doesn’t make any moves but you can tell it effected him by the way his cock throbs inside you.

“Who is it?” Crocodile’s tone is short and you can tell he’s on the verge of anger.

“It’s me wondering what you’ve done with our assistant.” Mihawk’s monotone voice carries through the large wooden door and you can feel Crocodile relax under you.

“Come in and see.”

You know turning and looking to see Mihawk would garner disapproval from Crocodile so you stay still, hyper focusing on the noise to piece together what is happening behind you back. The door creaks open and you hear Mihawk’s boots click a few times on the floor before there’s a long pause.

“Shut the door.” Crocodile seems unbothered now, continuing to file through reports.

The door closes and you hear Mihawk slowly walking closer. Your heartbeat quickens as you feel his eyes on you, burning into your back. Tilting your head you look out and eagerly wait for Mihawk to come into your range of vision.

“I have to say that’s not a bad position for them.” Mihawk finally speaks, probably at the side of the desk just out of your sight.

“On that we agree. I think this is where they should be all the time, keeping me warm is a very important job.” Crocodile’s words send shivers down your spine and you can’t help the whiny moan that bubbles in your throat.

“Oh and they like it so much.” Mihawk’s voice has a teasing tilt to it as he finally slides into your vision. He’s leaning forward so his face is level with yours and his piercing eyes travel over your face, pupils dilated with hunger.

“How long have you been like this?” He asks softly.

“I don’t know… hour? More?” Your voice is breathy, needy.

“You like being senseless on his cock?” Mihawk presses his face close, forehead touching yours.

“Fuck- yes.” Your eyes are screwed shut and you feel Mihawk’s breath on your face.

You feel Crocodile’s chuckle. “Keep talking to them, I can feel how much they like it.”

Mihawk finally closes the gap and your kiss is all needy tongue and teeth as an hour of patience is broken. You push up to try and deepen the kiss but you’re promptly pulled back down by Crocodile’s hand at your waist.

“Don’t think you’re done here.” His voice is stern but you can hear arousal creeping into the edges of his tone.

Mihawk breaks away and you whine as you watch him walk away. You’re confused only for a second until you hear the drag of one of the other chairs in the room coming to sit next to Crocodile’s large office chair. Mihawk sits down next to the two of you and with his legs spread wide you can see his erection straining against his black pants.

“How long you going to keep them like this?” The swordsman asks.

“What, you want a turn?” Crocodile responds, putting down his pen and piling up some of the papers.

“No. Just wanted to know if the show was going to get exciting anytime soon.” His disinterested words didn’t hold any weight when he was unbuckling his pants.

“Seems our assistant isn’t the only needy one here. What do you say sweetheart? You ready to put on a show for Mihawk?” Crocodile lightly pushes you so you’re sitting up, face to face with him.

“Yes sir.” You say unabashedly needy.

“That’s my angel.” He mutters to you before finally kissing you. Just like with Mihawk it’s heated but he’s much more controlled- the teeth are precise as he bites your lower lip while his hand grips your hip.

You grind down on him, relishing in finally being able to move. You’re rewarded with a deep groan from Crocodile and you know both of you won’t last much longer. Crocodile’s hand slides from your waist to under your ass as he stands up, sitting you on the desk in one swift movement. Grateful you won’t have to try and use your already aching thighs you allow your head to loll to the side to get a view of Mihawk.

He’s sat back in the chair, legs spread wide as his hand slowly fists his dick. His gaze is lidded as he watches the two of you. Crocodile seems more than happy to maneuver one of your legs up so your foot is on the desk, spreading yourself wide so Mihawk can have a better view of Crocodile’s large cock splitting you open. Crocodile bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you and you moan loud as you feel Mihawk’s gaze burn into you.

“You like me watching you?” Mihawk asks, his breath short.

You go to respond but Crocodile thrusts up into you hard and all you can do is moan as your hands fly back to get a grip on the desk to stabilize yourself. It’s not hard to assume Crocodile loves the audience too, deep thrusts at a slightly awkward angle just to show off.

“Hawkeyes-“

“Yes.” Mihawk doesn’t need Crocodile to finish his sentence before he’s quickly by your side. You don’t know how they communicate so much with so little but Mihawk’s deft fingers circling your clit have you abandoning that train of thought.

Mihawk leans in and starts whispering praises in your ear about how good you’re taking Crocodile and how nice you looked sitting on his cock.

Mihawk’s words- His fingers- Crocodile’s thrusts- it was too much and finally after so long of being on the precipice you crashed over into your orgasm. Crocodile wasn’t far behind, burying himself until his hips were flush with yours and filling you up with a groan.

Mihawk’s ministrations on your clit slowed and helped you come down until Crocodile finally pulled out of you. If you weren’t so fucked out you might have been worried about getting Crocodile’s desk dirty but all you could do was collapse back onto it and catch your breath.

The sound of Mihawk zipping his pants up in the quiet space makes you push yourself up a bit to see what was happening. Mihawk hadn’t finished and you flashed him a confused look as you try (and then fail) to sit up.

“Don’t worry about me. You’ve been good.” He leans over and kisses your forehead. “I’m going to go bother Buggy.”

“Mmm.” You nodded and with a sigh relaxed back into the desk. Of course you would have been more than happy to help Mihawk but you have to admit you’re exhausted. Plus you can imagine how excited Buggy will be when Mihawk comes to his door already hard. You smile at him as he walks away and notice a small nod shared between him and Crocodile.

When the door shuts you finally manage to push yourself up to look at Crocodile in his chair. “How do you two do that?”

“Do what?” He’s already put himself back together, a cigar about to be lit in his fingers.

“Talk without talking. I’ve seen you and Mihawk do it a bunch.” You reach over and grab his lighter from his desk and spark it.

“Thanks doll.” He leans forward and lights his cigar. After taking a long drag he answers you question. “We just work on the same wave. Probably because of our time was warlords- same path of thinking, same muscle memory. Turns out fighting and fucking together have a lot of overlap.”

You giggle as you push off the desk and slide sideways into his lap, your legs over his thighs. Leaning into his chest you curl up into his warmth. “It’s great you two have that.”

Crocodile only hums and you let yourself relax as the two of you drift into pleasant silence.

Even if Crocodile is the worst offender that doesn’t mean Buggy isn’t an interruption to your work a lot. Most of it is quick, random kisses or gropes when no one is looking. But sometimes he will get you into his office and whine enough that you relent to him.

“They’re so mean to me baby.” Buggy is lounging on a large velvet couch in his over decorated office.

“Yes. Didn’t you sign up for that?” You stand over him, hand on your hip.

“Yeah but-“ He pouts. “You’re so nice to me.”

“And?” You notice his hands detaching and floating around behind you.

“I could be nice to you.” The innuendo is punctuated by his hands on your ass, squeezing as they push you even closer to him.

“And you know what will happen if we get up to anything without Crocodile or Mihawk.” While you admit it was fun, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be edged for hours.

Buggy dramatically flips back into the couch as you notice a hand leave and fly over to a transponder snail. The snail is picked up and placed on an end table so Buggy could talk to someone.

“Hawky baby~” He calls into the transponder only to be immediately greeted with the sound of Mihawk hanging up. Buggy gasps, offended before redialing.

“Ourassistantisherewithmeandwewantohabefunsocouldyoucomeoverand-“ Buggy rushes all his words out before he’s hung up on again. The mouthpiece gets dropped to the ground as Buggy pouts.

“I’m sure if we just wait until tonight-“ Now it’s your turn to be cut off as you hear the quick opening and closing of Buggy’s door. You turn and see Mihawk standing there, arms crossed.

“Hawky!” Buggy shoots up as his hands reattach themselves. “I knew you would be so loving and reasonable.”

“Which is why you called twice?” Mihawk deadpans.

“Yes?”

You and Mihawk look at each other and you shrug. “He said he wanted to be nice to me.”

“You are nice to him, so it seems only fair.” Mihawk finally walks over and picks one of the obscenely plush chairs to sit in. “Make sure our lovely assistant is appreciated for all their hard work.”

Hands suddenly grab at your waist and pull you down onto the couch with Buggy. In a flash he’s on top of you, pushing you down to lay flat on the bed while he eagerly kisses down your neck. His hands are already working at the waistband of the pants and pulling down.

“You could go a little slower.” Mihawk comments from his chair and you look over to see him palm himself through his pants.

“But that’s no fun.” Buggy smiles up at you as his hands travel back up and push you shirt up, giving him better access to paw and your breasts. You moan as his hands work your flesh and you can feel yourself getting wet from the attention.

Buggy continues not to listen to Mihawk’s advice as he slides down until he’s kissing your hips and down the tops of your thighs. You shudder in anticipation as his hands hold your thighs open and kid mouth travels to your inner thighs, taking its time there as he sucks the sensitive skin.

“Buggy-“ You whine as your hand lands on his head, threading your fingers into his soft blue hair.

“Now who’s in a rush?” Buggy teases, hovering just above where you need him to be.

“Thought you were going to be nice to me.” You pout and you know Buggy can’t resist.

“Anything for my star.” He presses on last kiss to the inside of your thigh before he dives in.

Buggy isn’t as through and calculated as Mihawk or Crocodile but fuck if he isn’t enthusiastic. He’s loud and sloppy but as his tongue dives between your folds his nose rubs against your clit any comparisons fly out of your head. You push his head down further as you buck your hips to grind on his face and Buggy takes that lead well, never slowing down. You’re keenly aware of Mihawk’s gaze and you let your head fall to the side to make eye contact with him.

His dick is out now and his thumb is rubbing over the bright red head. He must like this a lot you think- sitting back and watching the ones more eager to show off. You like it too.

You turn your moans and whines up to eleven, doing your best not to break eye contact with him even when Buggy’s tongue reaches deep inside you. When he does that your grip tightens on his hair and he moans into your pussy. Mihawk’s gaze leaves your eyes for a second to dart down before connecting with yours again.

“Buggy.” Mihawk is short and commanding and to Buggy’s credit he immediately stops and rests his head on your thigh. “Show them your trick.”

“I have a lot of tricks you’re going to have to be more- ohhhhhhh.” Buggy gets a devilish grin on his face as realization clicks.

You’re confused and prop yourself up a bit when Buggy’s hands leave your body to work at his pants and he pulls them down just enough for you to see how worked up he’s gotten from eating you out. What surprises you is when he tugs at his dick it pops off of his body. It makes sense, given his powers there’s no reason it shouldn’t but it’s still a sight. Once the initial shock wears off there’s a fresh wave of arousal as Buggy guides his cock to your entrance, teasing around your folds and gathering the slick there.

“Now go slowly.” Mihawk commands.

You whine as Buggy’s tip pushes into your entrance, stretching you out. True to his orders Buggy goes painfully slow, giving every inch it’s time to drag against your walls. When he’s about halfway in he adjusts and you gasp when suddenly his mouth is around your clit, sucking. You grip his hair hard as he moans into that bundle of nerves and create a pleasure filled feedback loop. Buggy continues to ease himself into you and lap at your clit and all you can do is grip onto him and stare into Mihawk’s golden eyes.

You see him working himself, pacing his hand with Buggy’s slow rhythm in and out of you. Seeing him watching, knowing Buggy and you are under his control even as he’s passively sitting there is thrilling. Knowing he gets off on it too feels just as good.

The overload of this new combination of sensations has you a moaning mess, babbling as you grip onto the couch and Buggy’s hair for dear life. Buggy is close too from you tugging at his hair and your cunt pulsing around him he is using all his focus to keep tonguing at your clit.

“Buggy- ‘m close just-“ You manage to choke out and he gets the message. He pumps himself inside you faster and as he’s slamming into you lightly nips at your clit.

You cum with a loud moan and you feel Buggy close behind you, filling you as your walls seize from your orgasm. You are able to catch Mihawk finishing into his hand, cum spilling over his abs.

Buggy collapses onto you, head nuzzled into your thigh as he catches his breath. You run your fingers through his hair as you gain your senses back.

“Don’t forget we are going out for dinner tonight.” Mihawk says as he finishes cleaning himself up, bringing over some wipes for you and Buggy. “So do be cleaned up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and then presses one on Buggy’s cheek.

You never thought this is where your life would end up but as contentment and love fills up your chest you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[tantei-chan01]

Animals Continued

Xxxxx

Once the World Tour is taken care of, with the rock trolls agreeing to help with the damages, the rest of the tribes return to their respective territories. There's just one issue, the wild life have gotten bolder.

Since the attack, many of their defenses have been destroyed, causing the local wildlife to get closer to the residents. There haven't been any attacks, but it does make the citizens nervous.

Techno trolls have sharks, eels, and large squid that are their natural predators. It's also the time of year for the giant mana ray migration, so they need to figure out a way to redirect them without their tech.

The Classical trolls have large preditory birds to worry about, and they're having trouble getting their eighth goats under control.

The Country trolls have many poisoness animals in the desert. Their cattle have been scared off so many times that they won't get close to the town.

The Funk trolls have to stay grounded until repairs are done on the ship, since they haven't been on the ground for so long, they're not quite sure how to deal with many of the creatures.

The Rock trolls also have a problem, with so many of the citizens in different territories to help with repairs. They've neglected their own issues with the lava crocs and boulder buzzards.

When Poppy learns of this, she sends in the one troll who can help them.

Enter Branch.

At first, Branch was a little apprehensive to leave the village, they still have some repairs to do, and it's mating season for the puffalo. The Snack Pack tell him that they can handle the reconstruction and Milton can help with the puffalo. So he packs up his bags and starts heading toward the other tribes.

Xxx

Branch spends a month in each tribe to do his job. He tackles the predators first, spending two weeks studying their habits and memorizing their sounds. Once he finds a pattern in the communication or an exploitable weakness, he makes a strategy and collaborates with the other trolls on how to best go through it. Some animals he was able to convince to move areas, others he had no choice but use force.

Once the predators are taken care of, he gets to the domestic animals. Like before, he memorizes the habits and sounds. Once he has a form of communication going, he'll ask them what they need. He then relays the message to the trolls, and they start making accommodations.

The other tribes notice how their pets and livestock seem much calmer around the once gray troll. Even the more temperamental of their creature become putty in his hands. Many have called him the 'Animal Whisperer', and the more romantic types call him an Angel.

To say thanks for helping them, each tribe gives him an animal.

Techno gave him a Low beat Turtle, similar to Suki's bugs, the have a turntable on their back. They can move on land and can create a low vibration sound that has a calming effect.

Classical gave him three eighth goats as they do better in a herd than by themselves. Their wool is fluffy and warm, making incredible blankets, pillows, and sweaters. They also have a melodious bleat.

Country gave him a dairy Bluegrass Buffalo, they're a sandy blue color cow. They make a delicious and nutritious milk and are very gentle.

Funk gave him a snug-a-lug since Branch can talk to them. He can figure out how to hug it without multiplying. And yes, Branch can make that cute little warble it does.

Rock gave him a Lava Snake, they vary in color from dark red to an ashy gray. Their hide is very tough while their underbelly is quite soft. They can withstand extremely high temperatures, and their skin can be melted to create many things once they shed. The young one likes to sleep in the fireplace.

The animals in Pop village take them under their tutelage to become Branch's bodyguards, unbeknownst to him.

[s0lemnhypn0s]

(Crocodile Genderbenders DNI)

I already had the strong headcanon that Crocodile's expressions of affection take the form of A. Petnames and B. more importantly for this post, physical touch. I like to imagine he clings onto Mihawk tightly when they sleep together (In general, he likes to be holding something while he sleeps - A person being much better than a pillow), likes having an arm wrapped around Mihawk or a hand on his hand or thigh. Sometimes he might play with Mihawk's hair while he's talking to other members of the crossguild. Generally a very "I need my hands on you now" kind of partner

But last night I read a small little thing about Crocodiles and their sense of touch, and how sensitive it really is. Each of the little bumps on their body are filled with nerves, far more sensitive than that of a human fingerpad, and it allows them to sense far off movements from potential threats and trespassers on their territory, all the way to prey in the water. But, Crocodiles are also very physically affectionate animals, especially when it comes to mating, so this sensitive sense of touch comes in handy with communication to other crocs. Before mating, they will rub and sort of cuddle up with each other to see if the other Croc is willing to mate. They'll even do this during mating as well! But, a Crocodile might also rub snouts together as a way of showing dominance or submission.

so basically, what I'm saying is I'm right for forever and Crocodile is a cuddler. eat your heart out

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Hey did you know that Alligators have a mating season that begins in March or April? And that they become territorial and defensive?

Can you see Killer Croc acting like that with his S/O when his Heat arrives? If so what would he do? Or how would he treat his S/O?

"Mating Season" Arkham Killer Croc x Reader

Hello! You might notice first of all that I wrote this to go to Arkham Killer Croc and there's a straightforward reason for that. My general Waylon Jones is very much a black human man with a genetic condition that mimics an animal aesthetically. So I'm not comfortable giving him actual animal traits! But I really do like this ask and I Get Where You're Coming From- Arkham Killer Croc also has a genetic condition but it's tied a lot more with Having Animal Traits (which gets worse/more animalistic physically as the games go on).

Hopefully win-win for everyone! Also, brief note, not a big thing but "heats" are more of a mammalian trait. For reptiles and birds it's courtship behaviors during mating season.

TW: Animal-like traits (mating), NSFW, breeding kink, oversensitivity, size kink

As Waylon has gotten older, gotten bigger and more into that side of him, he's found he starts getting an itch in the spring. Irritable. Too in his own skin. Normally it goes away in the summer...

It started mild in his younger years. Just keeps getting more intense. At first he figured it was related to wanting to "eat" but eventually he would realize (after several hot and heavy and brief trysts) that it was a different kind of hunger.

How the fuck could he explain it? No one knew why his condition was the way it was. Now, however, it wouldn't be relieved with a quick fuck. He knew that much. He was committed.

He knew the time was coming when all he could think about was rutting into you hard and deep and filling you up- When the sight of any other man near you got him so pissed off he could barely stand it.

He wasn't so stupid to think he was going to boss you around or tell you not to talk to anybody else. No, that'd just drive you away. But you'd notice he'd cling close to your side. A low bellowing noise in his throat. Instinctual, to drive competitors away. And, to a degree, it did keep certain sleazy types away.

Not like anyone would try to two-time Killer Croc, anyways. Besides, you were enamored it seemed. Which was why when he started to explain... to tell you what he was feeling- You understood him completely.

He'd out of Arkham and even though he intended to stay that way, you never knew with the Bat always fucking up plans. And he was not going to go back without having you as many times as he was able.

That means him completely undressing and making the bed buckle slightly under his weight as he lays back. You making a show of undressing for him (too slow and he's tearing your clothes off with his talons) and straddling naked over his thigh.

His cock is bigger than average. Huge balls, sizeable head with a long shaft. Made for going in deep as possible. He loves having you palm it or rub your body along it to prepare. If you need a little lubrication, come on up 'ere, babe. He's got something nice and long that'll get you wet right up here with his face.

He hisses out teasing praise, "You taste good. Might want to take a bite."

Just don't cum too fast. He needs to be inside you. Not unless you want to be nice and oversensitive when he does it. Not that he'd mind much to have you crying out for him.

If he had a tail (later on he will), it'd be thumping for your attention. His whole chest is vibrating as you slick over his cock.

"Is it all gonna fit?" A low laugh under his breath, "Let's make it fit-" He helps pull you over and just barely off the head of his cock over and over. Fills you up with a little more of his cock inch by inch as he goes.

"That's it. Good for me, huh?" He's almost congratulatory as all of him fits inside you and he's close to cumming, "Gonna fill you up-"

You're going to call out his name when you both finish. That's what he aims for, anyways, as his cum dribbles out of you. He looks like he's on cloud nine. That bellowing hum slowing to steady breathing as you pop off of him. Lay over his chest, just a little closer to his face. He wants to kiss you. Hold you.

[fractualized]

It's the first Tuesday of the month and once again The Man Who Stopped Laughing has brightened my spirits with Issue #9!

Spoilers and police brutality/murder beyond the cut.

Protag Joker passed out last issue but uhhhh apparently got back up again before Killer Croc got free of the barbed wire, because we open with Joker still eluding Croc. However, Croc is not so mad that he's not willing to answer Joker's question and say he attacked Grundy just to protect his territory.

CROCJOKES LIVES

Meanwhile, the Other Joker is near the end of his road trip back to Gotham, but snacks are still a must.

That's slushie all over his hand and face, not blood. JOHN DOE LIVES

When Joker goes back outside, Killer Moth has some commentary on his nonsense with Batman, which I highlight only because I always love when onlookers notice the batjokes dynamic.

Also I lol'd that the coffee becomes a gag.

Again, Joker, this is why you don't have friends. But he will defend his poor dead Mr. Waffles. 🥺

Moth, I hope you pay later for this disrespect!!

ohhhh myyy gooooddd WAFFLEJOKES LIVES HELL YEAH WE ARE STILL IN BUSINESS

After this joyous reveal, we return to the Gotham sewers, where Joker asks Croc why he doesn't believe Protag Joker is the real one. The discussion gets more personal.

Croc just giving real talk about Joker's ability to attract allies… before attacking him, but Joker is quick on his feet.

Meanwhile, time to see what's up with Jason's transfer to Blackgate.

So that's going well! Elsewhere in town…

Joker, you once lost a laughing contest to a pre-teen acrobat. Plenty of dumber things have happened to you.

Joker, are you noticing a running theme about people's feelings about you? Maybe it's because you appear to be wearing a sweater vest over a hoodie. But never no mind, Joker says Scarface is going to help him build an army to fight Other Joker.

And then we're back to Jason and his rescuer, who is not Steph as I assumed last issue.

I don't know anything about Rose Wilson other than that she's Deathstroke's daughter which I googled for this post. I'm not sure if she's sticking around or if Jason is going it alone again.

Three hours later, Protag Joker meets the Ventriloquist at a warehouse.

The comic pulls a little fakeout here. Hatter and Moth didn't switch sides; Other Joker has finally arrived in Gotham, and these are his soldiers.

So nice to see Mr. Waffles up and around. :) He doesn't need to be convinced, unlike Clayface.

Protag Joker is less thrilled.

It's kind of adorable that Joker assumed that his gorilla sidekick was of such renown.

I don't know who to root for anymore. :( Grundyjokes or Wafflejokes?

So there's no TMWSL issue next month. Apparently the Joker issues of Knight Terrors coming out in July and August continue the story from here, per a tweet I saw from Rosenberg. Which Joker will have the nightmare? Perhaps a third one who is the original? Regardless, I'm looking forward to Rosenberg's telling of Joker working in a dull, dull office.

Anyway, the backer this time takes a different tack than the others with who acts as the main character.

I imagine Joker was no longer impressed when he fell to his doom. :(

Jim doesn't believe this, and what comic reader could blame him? Until he takes it to ridiculous lengths.

The question should be settled when Joker's body shows up.

The pivot after "he doesn't have any organs" to "well then this isn't him at all!!" is sending me. But even so, comic villains have pulled off that ruse, so I still have sympathy for Jim here. He loses his job over his obsession, which takes him back to the circus.

I snorted.

RED-NOSE CHASER

Anyway, Gordon sees Gaggy among the clowns and pursues him, which is a dive from humorous to terrifying as Gaggy insists Joker is dead ("they killed him") and looks for a way to defend himself. It ends badly.

Oh, no, Gordon. Batman has had this thought but you're about to do it worse.

And so his obsessive pursuit ends, as he finds the Joker within himself! But haven't we all?

I'm assuming Knight Terrors isn't going to have these backers, and I'll miss them. :( But I'm also assuming Joker's bad dream will include a surreal element that will make up for the absence.

[charkyzombicorn]

Well fuck Dragon! Au where he tries that bias bullshit on Crocodile and gets kicked in the dick for it while Crocodile just leaves with their son. Au where Luffy is the prince of Baroque Works and Robin is his bodyguard/best friend

I'm so sorry I lost this in my asks!!!

I saw that SBS that said Croc would spoil his kids rotten and yes definitely absolutely also timeline what timeline anyway

Croc left the RA when Luffy was abt 2 months old, Iva didn't want to directly betray Dragon so they started the half level in impel down and was down there for a while monitoring comings and goings and conveniently missing every letter their vice monarch sent abt Croc being stashed away on Peachy Island - he didn't Need need to but sailing on his own with an infant would be rough especially since most of his contacts were also connected to Dragon (and not completely coincidentally on Dragon's part) so he would be sailing alone. Peachy Island is also where he meets Bon Clay (13-14 at the time) and he becomes something of a son to Croc.

Croc and Luffy spend 3-ish years there before Croc decides he's not in fact done playing with fire and he wants to be a warlord so he can be a pirate with a respected home territory to keep Luffy and also because staying still so long made him Itch. Luffy spending 3 years surrounded by people with a bit more focus on vanity and identity mixed with being raised by Croc does mean that Luffy gets a sense of style! Croc does not allow jorts in his house :( so Croc forms a small crew with Daz (afab went to peachy Island to fight Ivankov for testosterone got a found family is still on the quest for T), Zala (Old Old contact I'm aging her up 20 years because reasons. She knew Croc back when he was still on Whitebeard's ship and is one of the few that doesn't care at all abt the RA), Bon Clay (Croc was hesitant to bring him but he could more than hold his own Croc made sure of that), Drophy (left Amazon Lily because she fell for a man but then she killed him teehee she was on Peachy Island for groceries mostly) and Galdino (his sister's trans and lives on Peachy Island he visits her and her kids sometimes)

They set out, Croc making a massive name for himself mostly by accident (he likes planning things but he can't help being cool) but then the marines strike a deal - if he can remain an active pirate while being targeted by the other warlords for 1 year then they'll give him the warlord title (it was harder to become a warlord back then) so Croc says deal but then secretly gets Garp to pick up his grandson, says in no uncertain terms that if Luffy gets mistreated Garp will never see him again and Garp humors him mostly but still agrees and takes him to Dawn. Meanwhile the hunt begins, the only current warlords are Mihawk, Doflamingo and Moria and Croc manages easily enough by seducing two of them and beating the stuffing out of Moria thrice. He only wanted to keep Luffy away because he didnt trust any of the warlords to not do any research and find his glaring weakness. Also because Garp had been nagging him for years to let him see his grandson (Crocodile doesn't like the seperation, he's very clingy in an Italian way)

So Luffy lands on Dawn, immediately calls Shanks crusty and says he smells like if you soaked a sock in booze, Shanks thinks he's the funniest little guy ever. All the Shanks stuff happens, then Croc comes back for his kid only for Garp to pull a fast one (and by fast one I mean he told Dragon abt Croc and Luffy and Dragon decided to fuck with the groundwork Croc was laying in Alabasta so Garp could hide Luffy better this was not coordinated the Monkey family is just rude) so Croc had to turn right back around to chase Dragon away and Garp threw Luffy up the mountain (Luffy knows his dad's coming back for him but he doesn't know how long it'll take since his dad's only late when something bad happens and he eavesdropped that what his dad was doing was dangerous. Ace asks how Luffy knows his dad isn't dead, Luffy doesn't have an answer)

While Croc is away he finds Robin and takes her in

By the time Croc can get back to Dawn Luffy has 2 brothers and a sister and Croc decides Dragon and Garp keeping him from his kid means he has full rights to take the three new ones also

When he starts Baroque works the kids are called the Wani's (after bananawanis because they're as cute and also as vicious as them to Croc)

[devilsrecreation]

Coming up with at least one headcanon for some minor characters in TLG cuz I’m bored

Pua:

You know how I hc that Pua used to be just like Makuu? He was actually 10x worse. Waaaay more cold hearted and disrespectful than Makku was. He didn’t even give animals a warning that they were in his territory, he just attacked

He spent his whole life fighting, which is why he has the best technique of all the crocodiles. It’s also why he easily won the mashidano against the crocodile leader before him

He redeemed around the time when Mufasa was king, specifically during Kupatana. Like Simba with Makuu, Mufasa decided to give Pua a chance since he was the new leader of the crocs at the time. But unlike everyone else, he took the time to bond with Pua, able to understand where his opinions were coming from while teaching him how important the circle of life really is. Through his royal friend, Pua eventually saw the error of his ways and promised to better himself from now on

This song is 100% him and his redemption during Kupatana

He was totally the dad figure in Makuu’s life. Kiburi’s too. All the crocs in Makuu and Kiburi’s float, honestly

Come to think of it, he was a father to basically all the reptiles in the pride lands. Always the guy you’d go to for advice

Makuu used to look up to him as a hatchling and he knew it. Used to rub it it everyone’s face back then, but he’s since chilled out as all the hatchlings grew up. He won’t lie, he still misses those days. Being Makuu’s idol kept him motivated to be a good leader and role model

He honestly wasn’t surprised when Kiburi started a mutiny. Kiburi has always been really independent and had different views than his fellow crocs. Even then, he never saw it as a bad thing. He doesn’t even think Kiburi’s a bad croc, he just made a bad decision….a REALLY bad decision. He blames the dry season (and later Scar ofc). It brings out the worst in animals, especially reptiles

Speaking of Kiburi, he visits him in the Outlands just as much as he visits Makuu. And ya’ll, when I say Kiburi actually smiles whenever he sees the old croc, I mean it. It’s not his usual semi-amused smirk, it’s a genuine smile cuz literally everyone else sucks compared to him. And not only that, but Pua tells Kiburi not what he wants to hear, but what he needs to hear: “You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone else, because you are a good leader in your own way. Nobody can take that away from you”

Tamka:

Because the wiki says he’s basically the crocodile version of Chungu, I’m gonna go ahead and say they’re close friends

I learned that crocodiles like to give each other piggyback rides for fun and Tamka does that very thing to the rest of his float. He did it when they were all kids, he still does it now. He doesn’t even stop at crocodiles, he’ll gladly do it to everyone else in the Outlands. He loves it

He can’t ride on other crocs though cuz of how big he is. He could when he was little, but not today

He’s always been the biggest croc, even as a hatchling. So big, he basically did a barrel roll out of his egg

Maaaaay or may not be related to Pua (they look very similar)

Nduli:

He’s the youngest out of the entire float (both Makuu’s and Kiburi’s)

Because he’s the youngest, Kiburi has made a promise to protect Nduli at all costs since he knows Nduli looks up to him (and he kept following him everywhere lmao). He’s kind of a big brother to him

He’s pretty close with Cheezi and they love hanging out together. Cheezi’s trying to teach Nduli how to stick his tongue out (nobody told either of them crocodiles can’t do it)

No headcanon here. Just an eepy Nduli :3

Badili:

Okay first off, can I just say what a cinnamon roll he is? He’s freaking adorable and I wish he came back cuz they made every single other leopard a villain. Like, he should’ve helped the Guard at SOME point!

Is friends with pretty much everybody in the Backlands and no other animal would dare pick on him cuz he’s a big sweetie. You mess with him, you mess with the entire Backlands (unless you’re another leopard but Mapigano doesn’t bother him anymore so it’s okay)

His goal in life is to befriend one of every animal in Africa, which is exactly why everyone likes him

Dahabu:

Has met pretty much all the other leaders in the pride lands during her visits and they absolutely adore her. Even Makuu doesn’t really mind her company

Thurston tries to hit on her but she keeps friendzoning him (girl please, you’re too good for him)

General headcanon:

Talking to your dead relatives isn’t just a lion thing. Other animals can do it too with their own species, they just don’t know it yet

Even Ushari can make himself known to other snakes if he wants to (which he does), but other animals can’t see him

[akitothemightydorito]

YES HELLO INFODUMP PLS AND THANK U I wish to know about reader design, and designs in general, and also all the other characters (very curious about u mentioning Gregory - how is the chaos gremlin gonna show up, I need to know)

Info dump pt.1

YESS FINALLY!!! I GET TO INFO DUMP RAHHHH!!!!

So I did mention that Gregory would be introduced and we do in fact have an early concept of him when the prologue and other chapters were fleshed out (by the way art isn’t mine!! It’s my co-writers !!)

Here are two drawings of him! The one of the left is one “before he was trapped on island” and “After a while he was on the island” 2 years before reader to be exact which doesn’t really show much other than he’s a sneaky little bugger when reader encounters him. And oh boy is he a nuisance! Before the main plot begins Gregory was stranded after Eclipse attacked the ship he was on that he sneaked on to get away from the orphanage he lived in and pretty much was caught in the unfortunate event of Eclipse taking notice.

You could say Gregory was in a similar boat to the reader (I’m funny I swear-) and was saved somehow he survived drowning. Gregory eventually comes across Freddy and long story short he gets adopted by the giant grizzly (I’ll show size comparison soon !!) and becomes the local menace. Like, bro literally now thinks he’s invincible with Freddy by his side!? Mess with Monty and enter his territory? Freddy is there to quickly deescalate the territorial croc and remove Gregory as soon as he gets word, Greg is given a stern talking to for the nth time now. Oh what’s that? Gregory is provoking Roxy and Chica again? DAMMIT GREGORY WE DONT NEED MORE FIGHTS (context: Roxy and Chica aren’t on good terms early on due to competing for the same territory for the open plains)

All in all I think you can guess a few ways Gregory might make a first impression on the reader >:3

Okay moving onto Freddy!! The father bear himself! So I don’t remember all heights of the characters off by heart and the part where I discussed them is waaaaaayyyyyy back in a chat so until I get it I’m gonna try and estimate on what faint memory I have! Freddy is based of a brown grizzly and has a human like figure but mixed in with bear with lots of fur! His lightning marks and stripes have been turned into scars from an old conflict, of what? We don’t know since not even Gregory can pry it out from him….maybe it’s reluctance??

Here is some of the concepts! I’ll show the size difference below separately!! But yeah I hope this helps get an idea of what he’s supposed to look like!! Freddy is also known to keep the peace’s between everyone (and to keep Gregory in check-). He’s a friendly fellow but…he wasn’t always so tame before…never mind!

HABSHEINEBSUW EVERY TIME I SEE THIS I WANNA JUST SQUEEZE WHATEVER IS CLOSET RAHHH-

Freddy is basically the best to give out cuddles and a great napping partner, rivaled by DJ Music man though!

NOW I’m just gonna quickly move onto the MC themselves, Y/n!! OMG I AM SO EXCITED!! as you have probably seen in the prologue of EOTE (eyes of the eclipse. Shorter title) then you know that reader is German in WWII but!! They aren’t exactly one to see eye to eye with the views on Jews and so they vowed to help any Jew they could escape the county and basically be a human smuggler for Jews! The design I showed where reader is in a trench coat actually is what they use to get around, find sources of where Jews are being transported etc. basically just a disguise out of their Dad’s cloths. Reader also worked in a factory like some people did wearing overalls since both men and woman wore them during the mid 1930’s! (Same can also be said for Gregory’s clothes but for the early 30’s)

Headcannon: since Y/n and Gregory are both from Germany and speak both English and German, they like to confuse the others on the island on purpose by suddenly switching languages mid conversation! They also say curses in German either as a reflex or accident if it makes sense

I just find my own little HC funny hehe.

Next up we have Roxy!!! She actually is one character I remember the height for exactly and the reason I can remember Eclipse’s as well lol. She’s actually an astounding 7’3 when on her hind legs. The reason for her very tall height is because she is based off one of these:

RED MAINED WOLVES BABY!!! this also makes sense as to why she’s alone and doesn’t want to have a pack as well as wanting to have the plains for herself as she feels more in her element in taller grass! He legs and paws also have that same gradient of black fur going on as well as her having a puffy mane and fur. I also may or may not have said she is able to run top speed when she runs on all fours thus being a good way to scare reader :p

Like I mentioned she is able to walk and run on all 4’s just like she can on two legs but she prefers going on all 4’s though. Makes her hunts more easier and keep that pesky bird out her DAMMN Territory!! >:/

Only have 1 rough sketch of her so far since reader is yet to encounter Roxy or anyone else haha but here take in the tall maned beauty in all her glory! :D

Her more early concepts. Might have more added to her soon though 👀 (shhh!)

She isn’t one for being all that social and is Gregory’s #2 target whenever he feels like causing issues and risking his life. She also sometimes accidentally stumbles across Chico’s territory a few times which leads to a few scuffles and chase outs between the two so no one’s really surprised, Freddy manages to stop them before things get rough tho!!

Okay I have some juice left to dump about 1 more character before I pass out! ITS DJMM!!!! AHHHH so, so…He is a HUGE Drider that lives in a cave deep in the forest of the island. I have a few sketches but I can’t find them at the moment but in my next info dump I’ll be sure to get them! So basically he gives the vibe a jumping spider would: Harmless and sweet! Which is true when he’s Docile and unthreatened but when that changes he can show off his huge venomous fangs that can paralyze and even be lethal depending on dosage. Did I mention he also has soft fuzz on his boddy but not entirely covering his carapace? No? Oh well yeah he does but that also plays part in his threatening stance! He has the ability to shoot out barbed hairs out just like a tarantula (I physically shivered when I typed that, ugh!) but also be wary for his webs! Not only are his fangs and fluff a problem but also his webs! They have the consistency of a Golden ord weaver: strong and resilient but also soft and silky so if you’re caught, you’re trapped there for good!

Another small detail I wanna mention is the mini Music man’s in the SB game that chase you through the vents have basically become a cluster of mini driders (perhaps some young MM adopted ??) and so he is basically a protective father over all of them so anything coming their way is a threat on sight! You enter the cave without him knowing and your done for pal, game over!! >•<. Also, Also MM doesn’t speak verbally but he does communicate through chirps and other vocal sounds he’s able to make like clicks as well!! (He’s so sweet!!)

Okay that’s part 1 of this info dump done but I got more coming this way!! I got Monty, Chica, Sun, Moon and Eclipse to do next!!

[pokerninja2]

King K. Rool and his crazy croc army are setting sail, and charting a course for Super Mario Spikers! I thought it would be cool to do a breakdown on all the Kremlings in the roster (so far), including their king. Their designs and personality are a bit grungy compared to the typical Mario fare, so their representation here leans a bit more into the "hardcore" territory, having real dangerous and painful armor and weapons. These are crocodiles you don't wanna mess with!

The king himself is who we'll cover first, of course! Design-wise, he's heavily inspired by his look in Smash Ultimate, which has always been my favorite design of his as it blends everything good about his Rare and "modern" designs seamlessly. For his outfit, he's got body paint and a nice monarch-like collar around his neck. His belly already makes him quite armored, so he doesn't need much protection; he can take on everyone just how he is.

Krown Throw is based on, what else, his boomerang crown move from the first Donkey Kong Country. It's arguably his most iconic move, so why wouldn't it be here? Krazed Kroc, on the other hand, is mostly original, although his stomach glowing green was based on his Gut Check counter in Ultimate.

If there's one thing I'm not 100% on it's the posing. I think it fits him well, but he was made pretty early on in this project, and it looks a little stiff. Plus he's at a weird angle that no other character is, which makes it a little off when put next to them. Maybe if I ever go back and redo some of my older characters I can make him better. Aside from that though, I'm pretty happy with how he turned out.

-

Kritter takes what I said earlier about "hardcore" designs and amps it to 11. He's covered from head to toe in armor, and those claw extensions look fierce! There was actually an origin for this armor - concept art for Mario Strikers Charged of all things! I took inspiration mostly from the first design, but I made it a little more "exposed" - both to give this outfit more its own identity, and to fit the Kremlings' aesthetic a bit better. I also took the bigger claws on the feet and put it on the hands, which also looks like Bowser's armor in Charged.

Outside of that though, there's not a ton I sourced from Kritter's game appearances. Kremling Klobber is a fully original move where he piledrives opponents he's close to, it's not from anything, but it's definitely something Kritters would do in a competition like this. Their stats also give them "mobile powerhouse" vibes, which I think suits them well.

-

Next is Klaptrap, probably the second most recognizable Kremling outside of Kritter. The idea behind its design here is obvious - maximize it's biting power! Klaptraps already have strong jaws, so making them much bigger and much more sharp makes them way more dangerous. Killer Klamp makes them bite down on enemies and swing them like a dog - Klaptraps seem a lot more like feral animals than the other Kremlings that walk on two legs, so making them animalistic works out pretty well for them.

It's hard to tell with the metal jaws blocking it, but the design was based on Klaptrap's Assist Trophy in Ultimate, which in turn is pretty much just its Rare design in HD.

And... that's it. Not a lot to talk about Klaptrap. Just a really cool design with some cool abilities. Nice and simple.

-

Klinger stands out among these guys as having the funniest design. Mainly being that he's hitching a ride on those weird blue machines that move on rails from Super Mario World. This wasn't something I initially planned for, because Klingers in DKC2 always move on ropes, so I wanted to find a way to make a moving rope work. At first I thought they could be carried by some unseen flying Kremling and the rope just extends off-screen, but then I thought of these things from SMW and thought these would be a perfect fit.

Kind of goes against the whole "emphasize the Kremlings' badass-ery and hardcore-ness" thing I had going on with them but I don't really care, it's funny lol

That doesn't mean Klinger isn't threatening even with this silly rope though. For one, he still has that big sword of his. I'm pretty sure Klingers carry them in their mouths as they climb, but this time they're slashing enemies with it. Swinging Slasher, like most of the other moves thus far, is pretty much original, but imagine how cool it'd be if a Klinger swung from its ropes and tried to slice the apes in half?

-

And that's about all I have to say about these guys. Kremlings are one of the most unique characters among the extended Mario-verse, and I really wanted to do them justice. I definitely have ideas for more Kremlings, but that's for another day. Overall, I'm really happy with how they turned out.

[joz-yyh]

Acta Est Fabula - Ch. 11

SUMMARY: Crimson Court AU. It’s time for the viscounts annual banquet and the boys are not so fortunate as to escape unscathed. No Beta. Read at your own risk.

PAIRING: Flagellant x Bounty Hunter

RATING: M (violence/ blood/ gore/ character death)

WORD COUNT: 4,797

READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!

A/N: Made this the viscount’s 7th banquet since it’s been as long since the Crimson Court DLC was released.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The huntsman swims alongside Sebastian, holding onto his side, masking himself behind his bulk. Odds are, the party goers will be too engrossed in the festivities to notice him, but he wasn't taking any chances.

A big inhale of breath and he dives under, holding onto his companion's scaly barbs as the croc shuttles them along with swift beats of his tail. They surface under the banquet hall, swimming through one of the large sewer networks that resides beneath its base. A dank place such as this attracted crocs, and while he had adopted a pet reptilian of his own, this wasn’t exactly the safest territory to be making new friends.

Thankfully, the native crocs are out, able to set the charges while Sebastian stands guard.

The fuses were big enough that it should give them enough time to swim back to safety without getting caught in the crossfire; Damian busy doing the same topside, planting charges along with Pierre with sacks of gunpowder, better suited for such a task, lest the bloodsuckers get a whiff of Tardif’s blood.

As the hunter arranges the infrastructure of the banded dynamite with a pedestal of mud and rock, he notices a nest, three baby eggs resting innocently inside.

Heart getting the better of him, Tardif collects them into a pouch, saving the unborn brood from the grim fate of being crushed.

“Hope ye don’t mind not bein’ an only child anymore, Sebastian.”

Not that the croc could hear him, but it would be quite the surprise if they hatched, the green menace playing big brother to a band of siblings.

—-

The viscount’s guests are all assembled, sat at their assigned place settings, a long lavish table of luxurious delicacies piled so high, one almost can't see over the decorative presentations.

Fine china, gold trimmed with cutlery to match, the epitome of wealth and sophistication on display for each attendee.

A caramelized boar is at the head of the table, lamb shank, pottages and other splendid platters of varied hors d'oeuvres piled around it, a feast fit for a king.

The man of the hour taps his glass, calling a toast, dignified as he pulls on the lapels of his coat.

“Esteemed guests, devoted friends, it is my honor to welcome you to this, our 7th annual banquet.”

Hands are raised in applause, the insectoid gentleman basking in it as he appraises his congregation, pleased with the turn out, every seat claimed, filled by a well-dressed person of high class.

“As you all know, this year has seen some misfortunes …”

He's interrupted by a rumbling, a subtle quake beneath their feet.

There are whispers, a panoramic view of his dining table speculating the cause.

The viscount clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

“Ha, seems the court itself is earnest with excitement.”

A modest exclamation of mirth from his audience, tension minimally settled.

Now begins a bigger rumbling, one that has their table jumbling, glasses spilling, harder to ignore, but ignore it he does.

“As I was saying, may you partake in these spoils with the expression of my gratitude in mind. Those that continue to show their devotion and utmost loyalty despite the harrowing attempts to refute our way of life will see their efforts rewarded tenfold in the future …”

Just as his pledge is pitched, the floor gives way, crumbling, taking a whole table of attendees with it, plummeting down into a trench of makeshift tectonics.

Screams add to the floundering chaos as more sinkholes open up, swallowing more of the outlying tables, others crushed by toppling pillars, shook from their foundations.

Tardif listens from afar, masked by the river, mounted on Sebastian. He can’t help but snicker as some of the frantic guests spring his trip wire, burst to bits before they set one foot outside the grounds.

He waits until the explosions settle, the dust uncoiling from murk, the vampire hunter making his approach. He picks off those who come too close to escape, the croc making a quick meal of them if they still had the faculties to run.

He spears the rest, killing as many of the surviving guests as he can, making his way to where his prime target is located.

How unlucky that the viscount survived the worst of it, his table rigged with the most gunpowder and yet he finds the undead insect pulling himself out of the rubble.

His pompadour is mussed, formal wear burned and water logged, a monarch fallen from grace.

He dismounts Sebastian, wanting to finish off this entitled scumbag himself while other occupies the dangerous business behind him. Just as the hunter's bootstraps round the edge of the hole, a mass of charlatan bloodsuckers clamber out, not drowned, but discombobulated, distracting as they swarm, barring him in from all sides.

He pries their unsavory claws off, their numbers weakened by previous blasts of gunpowder, slashing away at whatever vital parts are within range.

Finally, when he’s free of their nuisance, Tardif finds the viscount is not where he left him, losing track of his mark.

“Shit,” the human curses under his breath, “where did that smarmy bastard go?”

As if on cue, his senses rise, the warrior just a little too slow, struck just as he turns to face the threat.

“How arrogant, taking me on alone.”

It's the crackle of the viscount's snarling mandibles, Tardif recognizes the tepid clicks from his awful attempts at public speaking.

“Did filth like you think you could get away with trashing my estate?”

The hunter grits his teeth, the pain finally taking hold of his brain, turning his nerves into blaring sirens of fire.

A blade, but not the traditional sort, a serrated pincer secretly concealed like a switchblade, jabbed deep into his shoulder, forcing him back into the splattered dregs of a broken table.

He's not sure which face to look at, each grotesque, one false, a doppelganger embedded by flesh, the other the true mastermind of such snide adaptations.

“After all the careful preparations I went through, you dared to make a mockery of me and my house. Such wastefulness. Now, I am going to make an example of you.”

The other pincer is rammed into Tardif’s other arm, preventing retaliation, delighting in the hunter’s spasm of anguish.

“Hmm, yes, impalement does suit you. I’ll lay you out on a bed of spikes, watch as your blood drains, drinking in your loathsome swill until your heart stops. Sounds delightful, doesn’t it?”

Tardif grimaces, staggered onto his knees, body shuddering with cold.

Another joins in their debate, drawn to the discourse, looking paler than usual.

“Ah, there's our main course! You're just in time, boy.”

This damming scene, Damian almost can't believe it's real, to see his worst fears imagined, manifested here, now.

Tardif and the fiendish patriarch are locked, one side holding the upperhand, the other impaled upon its forelegs.

The flagellant moves without thinking, hoping this was a nightmare he could wake from, if only he dispelled the illusion.

“Ah, ah, ah – not another step,” the viscount warns, teeth chittering, growling out his next words, “or I'll run him through.”

At Tardif's pained whimper, Damian stops, their despicable gourmand putting pressure on torn flesh to illustrate a point.

“Do we understand each other?”

Damian wants to tear the malignant smirk off the bloodsucker's face and while he may not be within range to do so, Sebastian might be. He just needs to keep him talking, distract him long enough for the reptilian to make his move.

“Let him go,” the blonde nobleman snarls, playing along with this sick game.

“You're in no position to make demands,” their enemy counters, “Same goes for your croc there. One wrong move and your human goes pop like a souffle.”

As much as he's against the idea, the flagellant issues the command, prolonging their standstill in an effort to save Tardif's life.

“Sebastian … stay.”

“Good,” the viscount chuckles, “Now maybe we can have a polite conversation.”

What irony, the gregarious glutton carrying both knife and fork within his hands, tenderizing the very man he holds hostage.

“What shall we discuss?”

The visage of compliance gives him time to think. The viscount may have intercepted Sebastian, but he had no knowledge of Pierre, Damian hoping the insect hybrid will return soon, giving them the opening they need.

“Would it please you to know I celebrated the baron's passing? Afterall, we both carried a certain distaste for him.”

His black eyes are fixated on Damian, expecting a rise out of him, dredging up old wounds, but the vagrant nobleman gives him nothing, perpetuating his cold stare.

Not to be deterred, the viscount continues, determined to break his spirit.

“A constant source of indigestion that one, I was grateful to the fool who dispatched him, but imagine my surprise when the baroness told me it was the work of a hunter, but seeing as you're here, we both know that's not entirely true, now is it?”

“The baroness is loyal to no one, but herself,” the flagellant reminds him, “You should know this.”

“Yes, I thought myself too valuable to warrant this disservice, but then, I never expected you to be a danger either. Tell me, whatever did you do to recruit a hunter into your coup?”

“Damian,” Tardif grits, glaring daggers at his attacker, “kill this bastard already. Tired of hearin’ him talk.”

“Quiet, meatbag,” the gastronome snaps, “know the peril you're in.”

Forelegs are shoved in deeper, the hunter using hands to block the ligament's advance, but the bloodsucker outweighs what strength he has.

“Hurt him again,” Damian warns, claws growing lengthy, gleaming with intent, “and I will not be so civilized.”

The haughty parasite laughs at his threat, a bloody neckerchief erupting into his mouth. He may be a fat old coot, but he's been around the block long enough to read between the lines.

“You always were a devious sort, a hazard to yourself. Now here you are, playing with your food. Though, I suppose I can see the appeal of taking a human pet. Perhaps, I should try it for myself.”

He strokes Tardif’s cheek with his fork, tilting it up with the help of three iron prongs, his long tongue swirling out from between his mandibles to taste him. The human flinches back, offering what resistance he can while being pierced in both shoulders, the appendage lapping at the blood trickling down from his mouth.

“You try my patience,” the flagellant hollers, diverting the viscount's attention with a spat of disgust, “Either you tell me what you want, or I rip out that vile lamprey you call a tongue.”

The slimy extremity beats a hasty retreat back into his lecherous face hole, proceeding with their negotiations.

“Preservation,” the bloodsucker says, “I let you go, you let me go. A truce.”

“You would betray the baroness,” Damian prompts, “You know the penalty is death.”

“So it is, but I'd rather live to eat another day then die here in this hovel.”

“He's lyin’,” Tardif growls, struggling against his captor, “don't trust him.”

“Learn your place,” the viscount barks, “Your liege is speaking.”

Tardif hates how he's reminded of the Order, that this same fallacy of rank and superiority is echoed here, showing how much he cared for social hierarchy with an explicit curse.

“Fuck ye!”

It's all he can manage, even the slightest motion causes a sharp rebellion of ache, his grip fading, slumping against the imprisonment of pretarsus stakes.

“Oh dear, seems we're running out of time. Your hunter is losing a lot of blood.”

“Mark me, I'll see you choke on it if you so much as breathe one word to the courts.”

“Of course, my word is my bond,” the viscount agrees, looking a tad too smug about their deal, already eating his dessert before it's been served.

“That leaves one last thing.”

He’s curious as to why the flagellant is smirking, of what other issue they’ve failed to cover, inconvenienced by compromise.

“And what's that?”

“How much footing you're about to lose.”

It's Damian's last warning before the gourmet is assaulted by a deafening hum, Pierre's supersonic wings disabling the viscount, the wig-totting glutton putting claws over his ears to escape the pain.

Sebastian is the next to leap into action, biting off the very limbs that keep the wounded warrior barred into submission, the bloodsucker having a new reason to scream, beg for mercy as blood gushes out across broken cement, painting it a new shade of red.

Sebastian munches down on the stringy appetizer in his mouth, the viscount staggering back, falling on his well-rounded abdomen, spilling dramatic tales of woe.

He drags his body in search of sustenance, leaving an erratic trail of blood behind, stumbling upon the scorched limbs of one of his dearly departed guests. He quickly gorges himself on it. A corpse or overturned supper, he'll take whatever scraps he can get his hands on to benefit his selfish regeneration.

Rather than cut the head off the serpent, Damian goes to his lover, patting a clammy cheek, stirring him awake. The human blinks, but he is unseeing, his pulse growing faint.

“Tardif, Tardif look at me. I need you to drink this.”

The vampire bites open his wrist, letting the severed vein splatter drip drops onto the human's bottom lip.

“M’fine,” he grumbles, turning away, refusing the help, fighting with delirium.

“You must. You've lost too much blood.”

At Damian's vehemence, the hunter obeys, sucking the fountain of life-giving crimson into his mouth, gaining an appreciation for it, his enthusiasm increasing as his vitality does.

“There you go. That's it.”

The vampire sighs in relief, satisfied when the human accepts, aiding it into his mouth, watching him swallow it down.

Mortal wounds suture, vampiric blood accelerating his recovery, the gruff warrior able to use his arms again, raising them to curl around the wrist he suckles on.

Only when he's sure Tardif is well enough does Damian turn to his croc, imploring his assistance.

“Sebastian, stay with him. I'll finish the rest myself.”

The emerald beast seems worried about his master's state of mind, but inherits the task given to him. Pierre too hovers back, keeping close, protecting those he holds dear.

Now Damian tends to unfinished business, following the scrawled drags of blood to where his enemy cowers, Tardif's words echoing inside his head, a mentoring companion.

‘Better to have a weapon than not.’

The blood that cascades down his hand coalesces into a blade, shiny, long, visceral as he aims it at the disgraceful wretch who dared harm his love.

The scavenging viscount is still stuffing himself full, sporting two new limbs, freshly grown as they glisten with stolen red flesh.

“What will you run out of first,” Damian taunts, a degenerate snip, “Limbs or corpses?”

“Stay back! I am warning you!”

If the loathsome insect intended to sound threatening, Damian felt nothing of the sort, a glint catching the flagellant’s eye, an ornate scabbard laying amongst the rubble, an idea coming to him like a vision. Clearly, it's owner no longer had any use for it, the nobleman picking it up, tossing the sword in the bloodsucker's direction, the weapon clattering next to his gaudy reach.

The viscount is taken aback, skeptical, eyeing the blonde nobleman, not making a move. Similarly, Damian draws out the inevitable climax, giving himself more cause to enjoy it.

“Go on, pick it up. I'll give you a fighting chance.”

The insect remains ambivalent, thinking surely this must be a trick, not about to fall for such an obvious lure.

“Hurry now,” he insists, “before I change my mind.”

With that looming threat, the foppish bloodsucker claims the weapon, skittering to his feet, aiming it back at Damian as quickly as he can.

“A true madman,” the viscount laughs, a haughty pompous gloat, “Allowing me to recover, handing me a weapon, you might as well have signed your own death warrant!”

“Is it madness, to know that when I kill you, it will be because I was the better man?”

The viscount seems taken aback by that logic, the way Damian stares him down, hateful, determined eyes so fully confident he will win.

A degenerate shrew spouting ethics at a time like this, neglecting the very same mutiny that brought them here, a luxury few could afford.

“Nauseating brat,” he gurgles, “I'll show you!”

The viscount lunges, precise, but sluggish, easily parried, sidestepped.

“Really? Is that the best you can do?”

The flagellant taunts, his stance resetting, sword poised and streamlined.

He really thought the elder bloodsucker would pose more of a challenge, but this was pathetic, an utter embarrassment to the sport.

“Whelp,” the viscount cries, “mind your manners!”

Blades cross, clashing with a thunderclap of sparks. It's a short back and forth, almost textbook, rudimentary, that is until Damian makes it personal and severs off his arm.

The bloodsucker shrieks, seeing his own dismembered limb fall slack at his feet, red splashing gruesomely on his petticoat, fear rampant in his eyes.

“My, my, the weight is practically falling right off you.”

He swipes his blade free of blood, the same tactics the trollop used on him reflected back, procuring better results.

“Ha, you think yourself victorious? I'll just grow it back!”

“Such reliance will be your downfall.”

The vampire is entirely focused, putting an end to their skirmish, slicing off the viscount’s other arm, leaving him an amputated husk.

This development leaves the insect incredulous, despairing over his missing limbs, extremities of no further use, his form composed of purely anarchnid features.

“Any last words?”

Damian draws his attention with this eulogy, seeing how quickly his adversary's debutant demeanor changes.

“Wait! I can be useful to you. There must be something I have that you need.”

The blonde contemplates his desperate plea, toying with him the same way the viscount had cruelly done to his lover.

“There is one thing.”

“Yes, yes! What is it? Anything! Anything you want!”

His fervent groveling is almost more than he can stand, having entertained this sorry excuse for a lord for far longer than he deserved.

“I would have you perish.”

There are no words left that can save him, choking on his rebuttal, throat gouged, just as Damian had promised.

His foe topples, torn from the silver spire of his blade, gagging on garbled utterances, paralyzed by grievous injury.

He lies there, a spectator to his own demise, unable to do anything but pay witness, count his last moments as they slowly fade away.

“Not bad for a devious brat and his pet,” Damian spits, a second stabbing, a killing blow that pierces through his enemy's skull.

A hateful sneer will be the last thing the viscount sees, the last thing he'll remember on his fall through the nine circles of hell.

The final sparks of life leave him, pupils shrunk to empty beads, a macabre monument immortalized by the sword sealed inside, embedded as a final resting place.

The deed done, the vampire wastes no more time on needless distractions, running to the fading huntsman’s side.

Tardif's eyes have shut, head lolled to the side, resting against the croc's paunchy abdomen, complexion looking far paler than it should, giving him cause to worry.

“I am here,” the nobleman says, cradling the human's head in his claws, trying to stir the man back into awareness, “you’ll be alright.”

Damian can't contain the warble in his voice, watching as the injured man's eyes flutter, white cornea over black lashes, irises blinking open at him again.

“Thought ye forgot ‘bout me,” Tardif jokes, disoriented, slipping in and out of consciousness, a hand held over his wound to staunch the bleeding, but his grip is weak.

“I could never forget about you,” he nearly sobs, an idiosyncratic smile regardless of what pain tugs at his heartstrings.

Damian slips one hand down, molding it over Tardif's, so feeble, so coated in blood.

The vampire focuses his powers, mending the stab wound closed, deep as it was.

He's winded afterwards, healing powers taking its toll, but the noble vampire shakes off any residual dizziness. It was nothing compared to what pain his human had endured today.

“There, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

Despite everything, Damian laughs. There's such relief in it, tears of joy and sorrow mixing in his eyes. If nothing else, he could always count on the tenacious hunter to lighten the mood.

“Good shit or bad shit?”

“Good shit, I think.”

Pierre is equally joyous that his master is saved, buzzing about him, hovering around his disheveled face.

“Are you fit to stand?”

“Should be,” he grumbles.

He's still a bit unsteady on his feet, a phantom pain of two skewering pikes that clings, haunting his flesh.

“Here, Sebby will carry you.”

Tardif circumvents Damian’s chivalrous attempt to help him, jerking out of his grip.

“Quit yer bellyaching. I can manage.”

“It was not a request,” the flagellant insists, his expression now a predatory leer.

Tardif doesn't have the strength to argue, mounting the croc with an assisted lift, a leg up from his partner.

“Gotta make sure no one's left alive.”

They couldn't leave things as they are, too many loose ends, the warrior reminding the flagellant of this, ornery but thorough.

Now the vampire scowls, bitter and forlorn.

“I don’t care. Let us be done with this place.”

Tardif is reminded of a similar scene, of how Damian nearly lost himself to despair at the baron’s estate, how he comforted him then, his lover in need of that same assurance now.

He puts a hand on a velvet-clad shoulder, the nobleman so far away, buried deep in his thoughts, startled by his touch.

“‘Ey, I am alright,” he says, gruff voice made soft, malleable.

“Are you really?”

Such sorrow in Damian’s crimson hues, piled high in his throat, the vampire pressing into him, not so quick to believe.

“Don’t ye trust yer own bloody croc,” the warrior scoffs.

“I do,” the other asserts, lowering the initial vehemence of his delivery to a quieter pitch, “I just … what if I am not there and you need me?”

The hunter shrugs, wearing a coy smirk.

“Looked after myself this long.”

Somehow, that doesn't ease the insect hybrid’s worry, boasting similar claims himself only to have Tardif spin it around, throw it back at him.

“I’ll be fine, trust me.”

“Promise me,” Damian insists.

“Huh?”

“Promise me nothing bad will happen. Or else I … I can't let you go.”

Tonight's events have truly shaken him, driven to an emotional wreck.

“OK, OK I promise.”

It's said in a huff, making the blonde smile, appeased by such a small thing, sworn oaths of high merit to Damian, taking them to heart.

“Very well. I'll meet you back at the hideout.” He inclines his touch, addressing his croc, “Take care of him Sebastian. I am counting on you.”

As the lumbering strides of his aquatic pet set off, Pierre hangs back, keeping his fellow bloodsucker company.

“You wish to stay behind with me?”

Tardif should have as many escorts as possible, reinforcements in case they run into trouble, but then another part of Damian wishes for a companion of his own to keep him company.

“Look after him fer me, will ye,” the hunter says, giving his blessing with a smug look back. Though, who should look after who remains ambiguous.

With the two party's being made, Damian begins searching for any left alive, snuffing them out, squeezing them dry of their blood.

Pierre makes it easy, able to perceive their enemies like a beacon, showing his friend where the stragglers are.

Using his toxic barbs, the mosquito paralyzes those clinging to life while Damian imparts his blood like needles, stabbing where skull and spine intersect, a swift, painless death.

As one sophisticated shoe crosses sunken stonework, a shriveled claw reaches for his ankle, one of the injured guests catching him from behind.

Seems the haggard esquire crawled out from a pile of corpses, too weak to cause harm, but that was never its intent.

“JuDgiNg Us! WhAt GIvES YoU tHe RiGHt?!”

It's garbled, strained, a drought in need of watering, but the nobleman will not feel an ounce of pity for this creature.

“Your soul was forfeit the moment you became complacent in your decadence. How many lives have you taken to satisfy your own?”

“HuManS WoN’t AccEpT YoU! WiLl DiE LiKe Us!! OuR RaCe DeStroYeD!!!”

“I know,” the flagellant abides solemnly, having accepted such facts long ago.

The shriveled husk seems not to expect that, staring back with blank eyes, a lost and fading grip.

“Go now in peace,” he says, an evangelical prayer to help ease the misguided souls passing, “may the Light provide you with the answers you seek.”

He watches as the insect's body shrinks, curling in on itself, crumbling bit by bit, reduced to a cremation of dust.

“So much death,” Damian sighs, the ashes drifting on an ominous wind, “I wonder if it's worth it.”

Not much point in regret now, but the dearly departed esquire had rattled him more than he thought he would.

He nearly lost his beloved human today. What would he have done if things had gone differently? Had his allies dwindled, would his resolve been crushed as well?

Perhaps, it was wise to quit before the worst had happened, run away from the point of no return.

Pierre's wings beat out a hum, pulling Damian from his soliloquy, offering his cheer of support.

“Thank you little one. I am a bit out of sorts.”

He regards the winged critter fondly, stroking under its thin nose.

“Suppose you're right. We do this for a better life, not just for us, but for everyone.”

Even if they stopped now, the baroness never would. They may have trimmed back her resources, downsized her echelon of conspirators, but the cunning woman would still seek to rebuild, spread her accursed influence, bleed the world open until the well ran dry.

If this nightmare truly was to end, it would end with her death.

—

How surprised he is to find Tardif disobeying his orders, in the midst of slaying a steely chevron right before his eyes.

He rides Sebastian with such finesse, the allure of a thoroughbred warrior, beheading the powdered mantis with one well placed swing of his axe.

Only when the abbreviated segments collapse dead weight into the marsh does the flagellant speak of his presence.

“Out for a pleasure stroll?”

Tardif goes rigid at the sound of his lover's voice, surprised they would catch up to him so soon.

“Would have,” he grumbles, masking his culpability, "Ran into some trouble.”

“Did I not tell you that you would?”

That is the most roundabout way of saying 'I told you so’ that the hunter has ever heard.

“Handled it,” he grunts, steering the croc around, towards his master, welcoming Pierre back.

Damian receives this reunion of teeth, rubbing at grievous jaws, the impression of cracked canines the hunter dealt to them a lifetime ago.

“Tardif, I can't lose you.”

His eyes remain focused on his pet, but his throat is thick with overprotectiveness.

“Ye won't,” brags of confidence, tied matter of fact. “How did the clean up go?”

“It is done.”

His mind is heavy with weariness, wishing to banish the memory entirely, having spent enough time in service to it.

“C’mere, got somethin’ fer ye.”

Damian lifts a brow, skeptical, shifting just slightly in his favor.

“Closer.”

“What could you possibly–”

He's cut off, lips descending upon his, nothing quite like Tardif’s kisses to steal his breath, his thoughts, his very heart.

This one is softer, a fist clenched in his hair, ingratiating, possessive, bringing a sway of indulgence, a tongue dipping into his, carrying a signature.

Damian is dazed, mind blank when the brute pulls them apart, rings of pride filling him as the vampire melts under his touch, subdued by such a simple gesture.

“You'll get the rest when we get home.”

“Home?”

A curious notion that brings him back to the present, tilting his head in inquiry. Did Tardif truly see their improvised hideout, a mere underwater cave filled with misbegotten possessions as such?

The human shrugs, aspiring. “Fer now.”

That invites a world of possibility, the idea of them moving into a proper house, plenty of room for Pierre to fly, a giant pool for Sebastian, and a lofty king bed for he and Tardif to share.

And there it is, a glimmer of hope, a happy ending just beyond their reach even as the hardest of their battles lies ahead.

[savagesneversleepnyc]

THE YOWIE (AUSTRALIAN FOR YETI)

Up near DERBY in the far flung

NORTH WEST TERRITORY

From out of the tall brush

Came the wretched

Stinking YOWIE

Like cheese, meat, mold and death

Had a baby

The YOWIE pounced with

Such fury the tiny

Lizards scampered into puddles

They had all made in

Fear of the commotion

The YOWIE took one look at

The tourists and snatched one

Up like a gummy worm from out

Of a fine glass container

His last scream was a muffled

Kerfluffel of vowels and screaming bloody

Murderous howls as his head and neck

Collided with the gaping maw

Full of rotten teeth squeezing

Calories from out of BARRY

The leader of the troop pounced

Into action as well and curled up

In a ball thinking he was in

JURASSIC PARK and that the YOWIE

Might possibly behave as a T REX

And perhaps NOT SEE HIM if he was to

NOT MOVE and BE STILL

BUT Oh MOTHER LEMME TELL YA

NOT A GOOD LOOK

The YOWIE being utterly perplexed

By this having never seen an

ARMADILLO ROADKILL skid down

The tarmac and back again

As its armor was sufficient but ill suited

Against the rims of the 18 wheelers steel

The YOWIE stepped back with a

RIGHT HOOF and PUNTED GORDON

Clear on the other side of the creek

He too made sounds as he careened screaming before being IMPALED upon a

Post of the ghost of the

RABBIT PROOF FENCE

That was left for all the bunny’s

And tiny mites to DIE looking for water

That was impossible to find and

Become OUTBACK morsels for BUZZARDS

GORDON had splattered and BETO and BEN prepared for YOWIE combat

The remaining troop RAN towards the creek Speaking in tongues that

MORMON MISSIONARIES spoke too

When they came to hunt the YOWIE

For the church of something something something ZOO-A-LOGICAL arcade

But the YOWIE was said to have eaten them too

All while leaving one survivor SOLE SURVIVOR to feast on its

Blazing hot people FECES as the YOWIE

Pounded The ground and found little solace

In the pitiful human shoveling filth down

Like HOT DONUTS from the bakery

BACK IN DERBY

As the troop tripped and dodged WOMBATS

And DINGOS and WINGOS and blue haired Ladies angrily waiting to play BINGO

As the eyes of GOD looked down

On the muddy creek bed and giggled and

Pretended not to send the CROCS to

Beat out the YOWIE and gobble up the remaining survivors in the creek bed and

Leave him too battling the JAWS that love a Meat sickle of any size shape color or flavor

But the YOWIE was hungry

So he grabbed the biggest CROCY and

Thumped the shit outta the other two

Biggest ALPHA CROCS

SPLATTERING the first ones

Face into the carcasses of the people

They had all to briefly enjoyed eating those people

The CROCS gnarled their terrible teeth, claws and eyes at the YOWIE

before spinning back into the creek

To swim up the way and look for another

Bit of meat just up the corner and around the bend again

The YOWIE grabbed what slabs of protein

His mighty paws could hold snatch them all up clean

Lumbering off while sneaking wee bites

Of what had been IKE as the SUN slowly

Falls on the OUTBACK and DERBY and the

Disastrous excursion the troop had so

Delivered to the YOWIE

Like a whole roast DUCK in a PAN

A meal is a meal is a meal is a man in the OUTBACK mistake house… DERBY, NW TERRITORY

2:16am YARDIE HOD NYC 7.12.24.0000003