#I fully mean as a human. everyone is human in this au trust

[enigmatist17]

Continuation/just ideas I have of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon

First part can be found here :)

A03 version -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60978709

---

No one is really sure what to think when Jazz finally returns to the general populace, the crowded common room he steps into with Prowl at his side going silent at the mech's arrival.

No, not a mech, a frame piloted by an organic Wheeljack swore to the Pit and back was smaller than most of their servos.

"Soooo, what's up?" Jazz leaned against the closest table as Prowl got himself some energon, no longer keeping up the pretense he needed such liquid.

"That's what you have to say?" Starscream gawked from his seat, the seeker looking like he wanted to start dissecting Jazz's mecha as much as pry the pilot out. "Are all organics from your planet this...this flippant?"

"Not really?" Jazz shrugged, glad no one could see the grin on his face when Prowl rejoined him, placing himself between Jazz and everyone else in the room with a minute flick of his doorwings. "Hell, you sound like one of my commanders, he'd be having a fit right about now."

"Rightfully so, I should say." Mirage commented from behind Jazz, the pilot grinning to himself when he turned, only to see what was supposedly a blank wall. "Then again, you seem to be the type of bo - organic to cause mayhem on the regular."

"Human." Jazz could hear more than a few processors whir at the strange term, and after a moment, grabs a seat at the table next to him. "Organic sounds weird to me, so you can call me human or just my name, I'm not picky."

"Human...weird." Jazz isn't sure who spoke as his visor offlined, ensuring his mecha was supported before fully breaking the connection. The entire room went silent when Jazz's chassis made a soft click before opening, noises of alarm escaping vocalizers as they expected to see a spark, wondering what in Primus' name the org - human was thinking when something moved. What should have been a spark chamber was something else entirely, the central interior some sort of piloting seat that housed the human they'd all come to trust and fight alongside, who waved as he undid a harness. Prowl was the only thing stopping the Cybertronians around Jazz from moving any closer, his doorwings up in a sharp V when he carefully placed one of his servos just below Jazz, Mirage shimmering into view on the other side of Jazz's mecha when the human hopped onto the limb.

"Hey, fellas." Prowl kept his hold on Jazz as he stepped back from the temporarily deactivated suit, setting him on the table's surface as carefully as possible. "Aw, thanks Prowler!"

"You look strange for an organic." Thundercracker tilted his helm slightly, wanting a closer look but not stupid enough to test how close he could actually get.

"I guess?" Jazz reached up to unlatch his helmet, biting back a laugh when there were a few surprised vents at the reveal of his hair. "Back home, I'd say I'm about the best we humans can look."

"With an ego to match." Mirage cycled his optics with a smirk, eyeing his friend curiously while keeping himself between any bot stupid enough to try and sneak up on Prowl's blindside. "Your frame suits you."

"And don't I know it." Jazz winked, setting his helmet on the table by his feet. "Man, you guys are just...so much bigger in person. I mean I know you are, it's just weird ta see it with my own eyes, er optics."

"Trust me, it's weird for us too." Sideswipe commented from his spot among the crowd, amused more than anything when the inevitable questions started pouring in. To his credit, Jazz tries to answer some of them, but he steps back when Prowl draws himself to his full height and silences almost everyone when he crosses his arms, smiling to himself when the bot speaks.

"If you have any further questions, you can ask them another time, most of you are late for your assigned duty shifts, Jazz included."

"Ya wound me Prowler!" The human let out a whine at the supposed betrayal, but the grin never left his face as he turned to his mecha. "I guess I could get movin', don't want to keep Brawn too late."

"Indeed." Prowl offered his servo once more, aware of the many prying optics watching as Jazz hopped onto his palm, slipping his strange helm covering back on as he was safely delivered back to his larger frame. They watched Jazz buckle himself back into the harness within the spa - piloting chamber, the chassis closing up when something connected with the back of his helm covering, the visor on the frame they were all accustomed to lighting up with a slight hum.

"Fun time's over." Jazz waved his servo, everyone murmuring to each other while they slowly dispersed. "Man that was fun."

"You find most activities fun, dangerous or otherwise." Prowl shook his helm in exasperation as Jazz laughed, the human leaning over to gently bonk his helm against Prowl's.

"I'll see you later, gorgeous." With that Jazz sweeps out of the room, Prowl watching him go with a look that made Mirage do a double take.

"You definitely chose someone...interesting." The saboteur chuckled, saving the image of a soft smile on Prowl's face for some future use.

"So I have..."

---

Jazz had wondered what Prowl's face felt like from the moment the met, in awe at how the metal creased and smoothed out much like his own skin did. Would it be cold and stiff, or warm and pliable? Ah the thought plagued him from time to time, becoming worse when he fell for said mech.

So, when he comes across Prowl asleep (no recharge) at his desk, a data pad clutched in his clawed hands, Jazz grins. Locking the door to Prowl's office, more for the tactician's peace of mind than his own, Jazz quietly grabs the only other chair in the room and sets it down on the other side of Prowl's desk, resting one arm on top of the table. Prowl is still asleep when Jazz powers down the link with his mecha, shivering at the sensation of becoming so small before slowly unbuckling himself, setting his helmet aside before starting the (admittedly) long journey across the room. Thankfully his magnetic lock boots made his journey down the arm of his faithful mecha relatively safe, staring up at his boyfriend (boybot? Ugh no, no way in hell) with an amused smile.

"Always gonna be the smallest huh?"

Now, here comes the hard part, one that could end up getting him flung across the room or smashed into paste if he triggered the wrong response from his sleeping partner. Okay, deep breath, and with a quick crossing of his fingers, Jazz activated the magnetics in his gloves before placing them on Prowl's arm as a test run. One doorwing twitched at the initial contact, but Prowl remained still, and with a deep breath Jazz started climbing, climbing up his mech's arm nice and slow. It was a little tricky when he reached Prowl's shoulder, but with a little awkward shuffling and a twist of his upper body, Jazz was within reach of his partner's face.

Now here comes the Hard Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

It took a few tries to unwrap the base of his glove with his teeth, heart racing when he was only attached to Prowl via his shoes and magnetized knee pads in order to free his hand, but soon he was ready to do the biggest thing he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on Prowl. His hand is shaking slightly, but that doesn't matter when it makes contact with Prowl's cheek, brain short circuiting at how...soft and warm the metal was to his touch. While it didn't exactly move with his touch, Jazz could feel the nanites that were on the outer surface of every Cybertronian react, twitching when he felt a buzzing under his finger tips. He becomes used to the buzz as he takes his time mapping out the dips and curves of Prowl's face, missing the cycling of optics before a loud chirp breaks the silence, Jazz yelping as he jerked back in surprise far enough to detach from Prowl's shoulder. He doesn't fall very far when he lands on a hand (servo dude) with a grunt, Prowl looking worried as Jazz propped himself up on one arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep! Next time I need ta clip a harness on you or somethin', don't want to fall again." Jazz waved with his uncovered hand, sitting cross-legged on Prowl's palm. "Saw you asleep, an' I couldn't resist."

"Resist what?" A quick look at his chronometer showed he'd not been asleep too long, optics flickering down to his partner when he felt something strange touch one of his digits.

"This might sound kinda weird, but I've wanted ta touch your face since we met." Jazz had uncovered his second hand and was touching the closest digit, a look he couldn't classify crossing Jazz's face when he gave it a squeeze. "Weird, these are warm, but not as warm as your face."

"Did you enjoy your...examination?" Something fluttered in his spark at the smile Jazz gave him, and once again gave thanks to Primus that he'd been given a chance.

"Mhm! I'd love to again some time, see those pretty lil' optics of yours." Jazz winked, watching doorwings give a full on flutter. "Glad we both agree."

"You shall be the end of me, Jazz." Embarrassment colors Prowl's words as he sits back in his chair, watching Jazz lay back on his palm, hands underneath his head as he sighs happily.

"Your hand is pretty comfy...not a sentence I ever expected to say to my boyfriend, but it is what it is."

"I suppose you shall have to make yourself comfortable then, I still have some reports to finish." Prowl clicked, grabbing the pad he'd been reading before he fell asleep.

"Gives me an excuse to nap then." Jazz moved to remove the outer layer that supported his pedes, his processor supplying the word shoe as Jazz resumed his position with a yawn. "Have fun Prowler."

"Have a pleasant recharge, Jazz."

Jazz doesn't need to know he had already completed his work before his "nap", merely settling in for a novel he'd wanted to get through as his partner slept in his grasp.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 14

(For those that don't know, this ^ is Papa Hades. For the sake of the story, Papa Hades is platonic and not romantic. If y'all really want to hear about a romance with Papa Hades, it's gonna have to be a non-canon spin off ask about it.)

Warnings; Shinigami ancestor has entered the arena, yandere, multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, varying degrees of yandere levels, monster men, various monsters mentioned, TWST AU, mention of injury, mention of blood, Rook is obsessed with the human's feet, sparing use of French, feisty reader, Shinigami, Crow, Hellcat, Vampire Bat, Dragon, Cervitaur, Drider, Harpy, Selkie, Gnoll

~~~~~~~~

"Hello, Little One."

Standing before you was a very tired and almost sad looking man. Despite how softly he spoke, his voice was a deep baritone that almost shook the walls around you. He reminded you a lot of Idia and Ortho, meaning this was likely the one they had all been taking about, Hades.

The Shinigami was taller than Idia and had to look down at you in order to fully take your appearance in. Streaking down his pale and almost gray cheeks seemed to be what looked like shining blue tears that stained the soft skin a dark color, yet sparkled like the night sky. His flaming blue hair was short compared to Idia and seemed more the length of Ortho's hair. Wrapped around his shoulders and body was a black mourning shawl that seemed to have light trapped within the fabric itself.

He was handsome.

"Um... Hi?"

He examined you, kneeling down in front of you to get a better look at you. His golden eyes held a kind of spark in them that spoke to his interest in you and you wondered just what that interest was. Crowley said he was kind to Humans and loved them, but did that mean he loved Humans as pets or as equals? Could any of these men say they saw Humans as equals when they were clearly much stronger and more adapted to survival in this world?

"I am Hades Shroud, the ancestor of the two you know as Idia and Ortho. It is a pleasure to meet you, Little One. Many an age has passed since I have last held conversation with a Human. Would you do me the honor of telling me your name?"

"It's (Y/n) (L/n)... Are you going to take me away from here?"

"I would rather not, but it doesn't seem particularly safe for you here either. It would be safer for you to live somewhere more secure."

You frowned at this, feeling your nails bite into the couch beneath you as you felt more than a little unnerved by the large man. Crowley said Hades took away the last Human that lived in Night Raven, but you didn't want to go anywhere especially if there was a chance you might be able to go back to your true home. There was also the fear that he wouldn't let Grim come with if he did wind up taking you away.

"I'll fight you to stay here."

"... What?"

"This is my home now. I don't care how dangerous it is, I want to stay here. I would rather go to my original home, but that doesn't seem to be an option for me right now. I don't want to go anywhere with anyone I don't know, and I really don't know you. Grim is here. Tsuno, Silver, Sebek, and Lilia are here. Rook is here. Divus and Trein are here. Ace and Deuce are here. Even Headmage Crowley. Everyone I know- and can trust- in this world lives right here, not wherever it is you want to take me. I'll fight you if you try to take me from here. It won't be a long or glorious fight, but a fight it will be."

Hades seemed almost taken off guard by your declaration before a soft noise escaped him, much like a soft chuckle before it evolved into a full laugh. The sound was unusual as if he had not laughed in a very long time and had almost forgotten how. Everyone seemed surprised by his mirth, none moreso than Idia and Ortho as they looked absolutely floored, but clearly the confusion of the others did not bother the old Shinigami.

"Stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you, Little One. I'm laughing because only a handful of those I have interacted with in the past thousand years have deigned to try and pick a fight with me, let alone a verbal joust. Most scrape and bow- even my own descendants- but not you, clearly. I won't take you from here, if that is what you truly wish, but goodness knows I have no interest in fighting you. Something tells me you would win that battle."

He smiled gently at you and you almost relaxed in response. Grim frowned from where he was laying in your arms, not really trusting anyone who you didn't trust. As the cat-beast looked up at you, you pet his forehead to soothe him and he began to purr gently. The movement of your hand drew the Shinigami's attention to the blue eyed beast that watched him warily.

"Is this the young forest beast you have adopted? Crowley tells me you found him in the woods when you first fell into our world. I expected a weasel by his description, not a young Hellcat. I would never expect to see one of those outside of Tartarus."

"Wait," Idia interrupted, "did you say a Hellcat? Like a genuine 'out of the flames, a Shinigami's best friend' Hellcat?"

"So it seems. Hellcats aren't native to the land of the living like this. No wonder his wings are so torn up, most forest beasts would easily slaughter a kit like this."

Grim perked up almost instantly at the Shinigami's words, his little wings spread out wide in surprise. He stood up from your arms, his tail waving excitedly and eyes shining with emotion.

"Wait... You know what I am? Where- where I'm from?"

"Yes. You're a Hellcat kit, probably only a decade old judging from your lack of horns, hardly even old enough to be away from your mother. It is unusual for any creature native to Tartarus- even Shinigami- to be beyond the realm of the dead, especially when I myself did not let them through, but the fact that you're alone tells me quite a bit."

"A Hellcat..?"

You pet Grim's forehead, smiling at the now confirmed to be kitten. It was easy to tell he was young but you were glad to now know how young and maybe even get confirmation about what he was. He seemed excited to finally have answers for what may have caused him to be left in the forest however long ago.

"May I?"

Hades asked, holding his hands out to Grim who looked first to you for approval. You hesitated for just a moment, pulling him close before you nodded. Feeling conflicted, you lifted the kitten into the large hands of the Shinigami who smiled gently at him. He quickly looked over the many scars of the soft creature and at the ruined wings with a slight grimace. A certain softness had taken over his expression before he hummed out his assessment.

"Poor little kit. He's even younger than I thought. Truly, he shouldn't be away from his mother at this age. Hellcat kits often stay within their mother's territory well into their adult years, but this one isn't even near the age to leave his mother's protection. He will get much bigger than this when he enters his juvenile days."

"You do realize you're not allowed to take him either, right? Grim is my boy and I am not giving him up."

"I know. I have been told he is your companion and friend, a chosen child you've taken on. I won't be taking him either. It is unusual his mother is nowhere to be found, as they are fiercely protective of their young, but there's no need to remove him from the mother he has. We can talk later about what could be done to try and repair his wings."

You held your arms open and Grim happily jumped back into them, affectionately bumping his forehead into yours with a loud purr. It was great news to find out that Grim could possibly get his wings back. The topic of his wings have been a sensitive spot for the little Hellcat ever since you met him.

Idia's words rang in your ears as you remembered what he had called the old Shinigami. Despite your willingness to fight him for your right to choose your fate, he had been polite and kind to you. It sounded like he was only interested in what you wanted, which was a breath of fresh air compared to a lot of the beast men you'd met so far. Why not show a bit of trust?

"That is amazing news! Did you hear that, Grim? Papa Hades said It might be possible to fix your wings!"

The world turned near silent for the Shinigami as two familiar words he had not heard for centuries from a Human voice rang in his ears. A certain warmth filled the ancient being's chest and more tears fell anew down the streaked and stained skin. How long he had wished to hear those words again from a Human, and now he finally got them once more.

"Now then, Little One, young Idia has informed me of the attempt made on you by a representative and his reasoning for why he believes it happened. Let us discuss this matter as it directly concerns your wellbeing."

You didn't seem to notice the profound impact of your words as you cuddled your Hellcat, but Idia and Ortho did. All of the monster men standing around you saw the gentlest smile and warmest look on the Shinigami's face as even his hair seemed to breathe a new life in how brightly it burned. The impact of just a few words was clear as it deeply soothed the ragged pain in the Shinigami's heart.

Thousands of faces looking up at him adoringly as they chirped out their greetings. A thousand faces that returned screaming. For just a moment, the old Shinigami could forget the wailing souls that came to him and simply remembered the joy they once held for the ancient death God.

"Right, those scrubs won't realize how rekt they are now that Papa Hades is zeroed in on them. Oh, right, (Y/n), I also have your new collars primed and ready for you and Grim... I only have the condition that I want to hold Grim to put on his collar."

Idia held out his hands expectantly with a wide grin and Grim sighed, his ears laying somewhat flat as if annoyed but he didn't argue against the suggestion. His response told you Idia likely held onto him when he was showing the Hellcat the new additions to your dorm. Not thinking, you stood up with your weight on your leg and let out a hiss of pain, feeling the stitches strain and the wound start to weep.

The sudden sound of your pain unsettled the men around you as Malleus and Lilia both rushed to your side. Lilia made you sit again and picked up Grim, handing the Hellcat to Idia. Grim didn't complain and instead looked worried as Malleus' hand began to glow with green magic. As his hand drew close, the pain numbed back down to a dull throb.

"There. You know better than to be standing on that injury, child of man."

Malleus gently scolded you as you sighed, looking away from the chastising Dragon to glare at nothing in particular. He was right, but that didn't mean you weren't annoyed by his nannying. Still, Malleus was the main contributor to your comfort as it was his magic that soothed your pain.

"I know. I just forgot in all this excitement."

"Well, I shall remain right here to ensure you do not forget again. Now what is this I hear about a representative?"

~•§•~

You sat in the Pomefiore ballroom with three of the many monster men buzzing around you. Divus was helping Vil sew in the hemming on your new top, the tall stool you were perched on helping the two meticulously work around you. Rook lay at your feet, having been measuring your ankles, leg length, and feet for what seemed like just a bit too long. After your rather quick introduction with the ancient Shinigami, you received a text on your phone requesting you come to Pomefiore for the 'design team'- as they have named themselves- to properly fit your new outfits.

Despite your desire to stay and talk more with the elder Shinigami, Crowley insisted you go with Grim and Silver to Pomefiore. Malleus wanted to come along as well, but decided to forego in favor of learning more about Idia's findings on the poachers. Instead, Ortho came with the three of you so that at least one of your official guards for the week was with you and could relay updates back to the group in Ramshackle.

A slow and almost appraising stroke up your leg had you frowning and looking down to the Drider at your feet. Rook has long since put down his tape measure and now just held your leg, his leather gloved hands cupping the heel of your foot and his other hand was somewhat stroking the arch. His eyes seemed darker than usual as if his pupils were slightly too big for his iris to contain them.

"Désolé, mon chérie. Your paws are so unusual they've somewhat captivated me."

"Rook," your voice almost startled the Drider whose fair cheeks blushed a fierce red at being caught, "are you still measuring for the socks and shoes, or were you doing something else?"

"Feet, Rook. Those are called feet. Paws are more like that of a cat or a dog. Do other species not have feet like mine?"

"Non, not even shadow folk or Genies have these feet. Most of Twisted Wonderland's species have paws, talons, hooves, or even flippers. Shadow folk and Genies are somewhat similar in shape, but even they have pads on their paws. These," he gestured to your foot, which was still resting in his hand, "are wholly unique. They would take an equally unique design to properly warm and protect them. Simply being thorough in my inspection."

"Right, so thorough you are petting them?"

"W-well," he looked much more flustered than you expected at your accusation, "I just wanted to know if your feet responded the same way talons would or if they were like the paws of driders."

"By... caressing them?"

It was then Vil interrupted, sparing the Drider your questions and taking your attention away from his boon companion.

"There. The hemming is finished. Sit up straight for me so I can make sure it's even. After that, we can move on to the next one."

You did as the Harpy asked, turning back to Rook whose legs had started moving. At first you thought he was just shuffling his spider legs back and forth, but you realized he was actually actively weaving what looked like a sock around your foot. The spindly spider limbs moved quickly, seeming to knit around your foot and up your leg.

"Wait, you can knit with your silk?"

"Oui. The clothing you wear now was all made from my silk. Drider silk is commonly used for clothing, as the silk strands are durable and don't often form holes. We had to craft these ensembles for you from scratch, most tailors make clothing better suited for the likes of Vil and I- with extra room for limbs and varying morphs. Due to your Human figure, it is better to make our own designs for you."

You hummed in response to his words, feeling a slight magic tingle cover your skin as your top changed from the fitted one to a new design that had yet to be fitted. It seemed Vil was content with the hem on the top prior and now moved on to another. Rook worked quickly as you found one sock already done, the Drider moving on to your other leg and being much more gentle to not move it too much as it was your injured leg.

"Careful, Pup, if you break her stitches I will not hesitate to give you detention."

"You wound me, Roi du Selkie! I take great pride in how gentle I can be, I would never harm her."

"Yes, well, take care to remember that before you drool over my pup's flippers again."

You almost laughed at how swiftly Vil and Divus scolded the handsome Drider for his clear interest in your feet. It was interesting to know that Human feet were unusual in Twisted Wonderland and you vaguely wondered if seeing your feet awoke something in Rook. Regardless, you allowed the three men to continue their endeavors.

"So... Let's say for arguments sake I wanted to take pictures of myself and post them, would that be a bad thing?"

"Don't be silly," Vil scolded, putting pins very carefully into your sleeve to hold the shape, "we would have even more poachers seeking your head."

"But if Cater already blew the whistle, how much worse would it be to post pictures myself? Everyone already knows I'm here."

"It-"

Vil cut himself off, pausing with several pins sticking out of his mouth as he considered your words. It was true, Cater already decided to post pictures of you and news outlets ran with that image. Activists have already posted that image anywhere they can as to why you should be taken away from Night Raven College because of how unsettled you seemed in the impromptu picture. You had a point.

"Something to think about, I guess."

You went back to focusing on Rook who was almost done with the long socks. Despite how you thought the webbing would be sticky or even stiff, the fabric behaved and sat like cotton yet looked and felt like silk. Part of you was thoroughly surprised to realize this fact as you examined the socks on your legs and the intricate designs on them. How the Drider managed to make them on your legs, you'll never know.

"I'll bring it up to Crowley later, after the representatives have left."

Divus spoke gently, giving you a reassuring smile that you returned. The Selkie man was kind to you and had been the one to patch up both of your major injuries. Clearly, if anyone could be trusted among the staff with your wellbeing, it was Divus.

"Now, we need to work on your pants, skirts, and dresses. I'm going to permit you to stand up so long as you hold onto Rook and keep weight off of that leg."

Rook stood from where he had been resting on the carpet at your feet, holding out both hands to you patiently. The darkness of his eyes only seemed more intense as you took his outstretched hands, leaning on him and letting him help you into a standing position. The Drider moved his hands under your elbows allowing you to lean into his hold and put more weight on him than your leg.

"Don't worry, Mademoiselle Trickster, I've got you."

~•§•~

You sat back in Ramshackle next to Idia, a controller in hand as you finally had the chance to play the promised videogames. It was later in the day now and you were finally allowed to leave Pomefiore after what felt like countless new outfits and fittings. When you returned to the building you hadn't been expecting Hades to assure you he could handle cooking, wanting you to just play games with Idia and Ortho. Lilia even joined in a few rounds despite how odd it felt to see the older Bat Fae absolutely dominate the game.

After a while, you started to forget the worries of the recent events and just focus on what was in front of you. A game that you could play and take your mind off of things. The room seemed to change to the general atmosphere as a kind of magenta light seemed to accent the regular lights. You were tempted to look around for the source when a familiar and almost stressed cackle split through the air.

"Ruggie! Shit, he doesn't know about-!"

A harsh yelping sound made you quickly stand and rush into the kitchen, the pain in your leg be damned as concern filled your mind. Even as Lilia attempted to stop you, you ignored the Bat Fae and hurried to where the yelping originated. What if Hades responded to Ruggie's usual food seeking behavior the way that Lilia did that first morning? You absolutely did not want anything happening to the Gnoll and knew you would feel responsible if he got injured somehow.

"Don't hurt him-!"

You started, almost sliding around the corner where you saw the elder Shinigami was regarding the yelping and flailing Hyena silently. Ruggie had fallen back and was scrambling back on the tiles until he was up against one of the lower cabinets, still yelping like he had been burned. Once he caught sight of you he scrambled over and behind you, another stressed and panicked cackle escaping his muzzle.

"(Y/n)! I thought you were cooking and boy, let me tell you, I was not expecting one of the freaking Seven to be here!"

"Are you okay, Ruggie?"

"No! I had the fright of a lifetime just now."

"But are you hurt?"

"The only thing I've wounded is my pride."

You breathed out a sigh of relief as the Gnoll confirmed he was alright, but as your heart rate fell back into normal range your leg resented your panicked actions. A faint red began to bleed through the wrap around your leg and the clothes you had over it. Judging from the almost tight strain of your skin and the sharp pain from your sprint, you likely pulled a stitch.

"Hey, you aren't bleeding... Are you? Because it smells like you're bleeding."

"... I am."

"Don't tell me you messed up your leg coming to check on me!"

"... I did."

"Leona's gonna be so mad at me for that. Why'd you go and do something like that anyway?"

"Because you were yelping like you were being killed!"

Ruggie seemed embarrassed now as he realized he had been making an awful lot of noise given not an awful lot happened to him to warrant the noise. Still, it was nice to know you cared so much about him.

"A friend of yours, Little One?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Papa Hades, I thought that- well, it doesn't matter now. Ruggie is a usual face here. He always shows up when I'm cooking and I've been feeding him since. Shoot, you're probably starving, aren't you Ruggie? I've been out of Ramshackle and in the infirmary, so you probably haven't eaten in a few days."

Ruggie whined, as if trying to make himself seem truly pathetic and pitiful. He even went as far as to sigh dramatically and rest a hand on his sunken stomach.

"I mean, I've eaten the dandelion and tree-bark diet a lot before, but it certainly isn't those nice meals you make."

"... Papa Hades, could you..?"

The elder Shinigami nodded, already seeming to know what you were going to ask of him and added what seemed to be an extra helping to what he was making. He had been told of the Gnoll by Crowley long before this meeting and he was interested to see you behave so protective of the Hyena man. Gnolls were known for their hunger of Human flesh before the extinction, so seeing a Gnoll not pounce even with the smell of blood in the air was impressive. He certainly didn't expect the Gnoll to scream the way he had- especially since the Shinigami didn't do anything other than look at him- but it was understandable the Gnoll would be surprised.

It wasn't everyday someone with the reputation and history of a literal God was standing making dinner.

"So... Papa Hades, huh?"

"So, Leona, huh?"

"... Point made."

"Hey, Ruggie... Could you... Bring me back to the lounge area? I have to go be scolded by Malleus, and Lilia, and everyone else for ripping a stitch."

"I guess I can, seeing as you ran to help me and feed me most days."

The Gnoll was quick to pick you up, almost awkwardly cradling you in his humanoid arms as he padded back to where an annoyed Malleus was waiting. Hades watched the two of you go, smiling ever so slightly to himself as he returned to his task. You already exceeded his expectations and proved that others cared quite deeply about you. Maybe he was wrong to assume Night Raven College was unsafe. Certainly not as secure as it could be, but given enough time and a helping hand, maybe you could be truly happy and safe here.

Really, that was all he could honestly ask.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

So like mafia/King/wolf king/warlord Derek idea?? Maybe A/B/O au

After Derek becomes heir to the empire (mafia or otherwise) is told by his council over and over again that he must marry and have an heir. He doesn’t trust his council much less the women they bring before him to marry. He would simply prefer to kill them all but unfortunately that would be directly traced to him.

So he abides by their demands and looks for a consort. So he throws a party, the most lavish party. The night is long and dreadfully boring. Derek thinks that at the worst he may ask Braeden to marry him. They are a little to hot headed and never seem to agree on a subject but at least the sex will be good. He spends most of the night trying not to dance with women who smell far to desperate.

He is ducking behind a column to hide from Jennifer when he hears the most clever and spiteful voice tell off one of his council members. He follows the voice to a vision of nymph dressing down his least favourite council member (maybe Deaton??) . Derek is absolutely taken a back by how the siren uses his words to get his way. Dereks preferred method is violence, and he tells this to the boy as he walks over — “it seems that my council member has overstepped, I usually find violence is my preferred way of dealing with such slights. Would you like he to rip his heart out for you?” — Derek kisses his hand and he basically declares to everyone listen he wishes to preform a courting action.

To Derek’s delight, the god in human form blushes. He thanks Derek for the offer but says he dealt with it his way. — “it is quite the generous offer Alpha, but I must decline as I have found words may be just as effective a weapon I promise you.” — Derek, desperate to not let him slip away asked him for a dance. He hesitantly agrees, but after the one dance they do not stop until the end of the night. 

The council member that had tried to hurt Derek’s future consort was found dead the next morning, of poison. It’s in the moment Derek declares that he will marry the boy from the night before. (Delusional Derek who is fully convinced they are to be married, and is just a tiny bit obsessed)

So he sets out to win his heart, cue shenanigans from him and the entire hale pack. Especially after finding out that Derek’s consorts father is a lawful man. A lawful man who would rather see his son with Parrish or Daehler rather than Derek. But stiles however refuses any means of courting expect for Derek’s. Because he knows the wolf is the only one for him. (If you like this idea please check out @hedwig221b Torn apart and set Anew)

Stiles didn’t care, Derek understood him in most ways that other didn’t. When his father would tell him that Derek was dangerous stiles wanted to shout back that so was he. His father ignored the worst parts of stiles, Scott didn’t even sees them but Derek understood. He didn’t just see stiles as a helpless omega. Derek is super fucking prideful about this and every time he sees Parrish or Daehler he just smirks at them.

Derek throws another party, this one to publicly state his intention to marry stiles. His council members kick up a big fuss about it until Derek reminds them that they are the ones who wanted Derek to have a consort. He abided by the rules. They claimed Derek couldn’t mate a beta but Derek ignored him. (Stiles doesn’t advertise the fact that he’s an omega)

Derek buys stiles a dress and jewels to wear.

Stiles only dances with Derek that night, anytime someone else asks him he refuses. (Parrish). During one of their dances when the music is fast paced and stiles heart is beating out of his chest, stiles spark comes into play and creates ribbons of energy that dance alongside them. So it looks like they are dancing in fire. (This is what kickstarted this idea)

So they marry and stiles helps Derek secure his claim.

Derek over hears his council talking bad about his husband so he kills them and then fucks his stiles pregnant to prove them wrong.

He also drags Daehler before his beloved omega for overstepping, and this time when Derek offers to rip out his heart for stiles, he agrees.

[waokevale]

The Overlapped AU [Aka Superhumans disguisted as Dinner Theater workers]

The Owners

The Managers (Engineer & the HR person)

The Waiters

The Security

The Performers (Wes is mostly on cleaning duty though)

The Kitchen staff (the others are usually tasked to help, though very few are actually trusted at all times to be there)

The Bartender and the Host

The Dishwashers

The Clerk & The Supplier

So this AU came to me upon a dream, and I just had to make it real...

The synopsis below:

The event of April 17th 1906 does happen, however instead of Charlie and Maxwell being kidnapped into the Constant, the Constant overlaps with the real world and spreads itself onto Earth.

Charlie and Maxwell in the process become corrupted and have to hide away temporarily. Both of them soon began to hear strange voices, source of which neither is quite sure, telling them, compelling them to hide the corruption's effect from the publicity, for the time being.

They come to a mutual realization they have to fix this mess somehow and hunt down any and all corrupted by the tome, by any means necessary.

(Maxwell still has codex umbra, but it is sealed shut for the time being until he's sure it won't spread more if Their influence. )

But the corruption didn't just appear out of nowhere, it's been leaking way long before Maxwell found the Codex, if to a less prominent extent.

Thus, in few years passing, they form a Dinner Theater, a rather inconspicuous establishment from the first glance. Very quickly they began "hiring" employees, which in reality means tracking down and blackmailing those who have been corrupted but not fully lost themselves to its effects, in order to hunt those who had.

Winona was against the idea at first, as she found out. But seeing the effects of corruption first hand, she quickly had a change of heart and integrated herself into Charlie's new environment.

Eventually they gathered a rather generous amount of people. Once a person's proven to be trustworthy to a point, they're give higher positions in the company.

However those who aren't, are likely to be shunned or "fired" which...you could probably guess what that means.

Many of these people gradually come to terms with the reality of their situation and accept their newfound purpose, being thankful that at least they still have a roof over their head and a warm meal, instead of being viewed as monsters or outcasts to the greater society.

(Wilson though, can't quite accept this notion. He keeps claiming that "this is just a big misunderstanding, I'm just a normal guy!" Yet the truth could be far from it.)

When Maxwell and Charlie hear of the danger looming, they immediately inform their "staff" of the matter. Those who are more experienced in combat come along to face whatever opponent may cross them, while those who aren't, stay behind, to be an additional aid or a medic in case the battle gets too intense.

Whenever any suspicion arises in the town about the shady business going on in that particular building, the two owners alongside their employees practically gaslight anyone and everyone into believing they're but the most regular entertainment center.

The characters who have either willingly or unwillingly lost their humanity, mostly in the physical sense, are given special devices constructed of Thulecite and bits of nightmare fuel (made by Winona, Wicker and the main two), which effectively hide away their true identity, or surpress the effects of their ailment.

There's also a few other people important to this story, especially the One, which even Charlie and Maxwell refer to as "The Boss", though what many most recent hires don't know, is that there's someone who's in a position much higher than the owners themselves, controlling their every move.

Correlating to that, another person, or rather, a set of people per se, working for a much different cause. Though most of them are "people" in only a visual sense of the word.

And while, there might be someone inside the well-known around town diner, who just might be more than what appears on the surface, literally and metaphorically this time.

__________

If you're interested to learn more about this AU, do let me know. If you have any questions, I'm happy to hear and answer them!

[generalsdiary]

he's a keeper, he's a believer (he's on the ground on his knees in a theater)

Sunday x Aeon!gn!reader

word count: 8.5k

description: Aeon reader inserted in Sunday's life story, soulmate au, fluff/angst, hurt/comfort, with a suggestive ending

a/n: this has been a long time coming and I finally wrote it out, big thank you to my beta readers: mochi, ricecake, and citrus!

The day he became aware of an Aeon of humanity, Sunday prayed to them every evening. 

Those prayers became more frequent the older he got; more frequent with the rise of his awareness of all the pain in the world.

And at a certain, older age, those prayers subsided. He'd only pray when he was pleading for those around him. 

Becoming enveloped in the Order and the... wrongdoings of the one who was supposed to be his caretaker, made those prayers stop fully. 

However, on some odd days—an extra day of the month which comes by every few years. Or the one of a blue moon. Sunday would gaze up at the artificial stars of the Dreamscape with a longing look in his eyes, not daring to even think a prayer. It proved meaningless. Yet it still, be it habit or the need for comfort, brought him solace, to whisper in his head, your name. Your name itself, as a prayer. 

You showed up in his dreams. Of course you did. Which other way could you do it without scaring... scarring... or even killing the poor Halovian. This was the one thing Sunday was sure he was delusional about. You must have been a fragment of his imagination. As for a reason why he remembered every dream so clearly, he did not have one.

Lush green gardens, pearly white beaches, blood red wines. You only took him to the prettiest of landscapes. Or perhaps he had control over that. The nature of the dream’s background never matched what you two talked about. Or rather, never matched what Sunday spoke of. Complaining about the universe, laws, the authorities, the will to change things, and the hopelessness in his wish to help everyone.

That hopelessness reminded you of another human. The yearning to reach everyone and heal a sickness called idiocy.Except, Sunday is much more sensitive, and felt true physical pain over this conundrum. 

Why did you decide to come into his dreams? Into his mind? What could persuade an Aeon? What could ever draw an Aeon close? Questions to which you did not have answers to. 

It is of no matter. You are here now. You are deciding to let those questions go. 

“I am me.”

“It would be foolish of me to trust someone in my dreams.”

“The level of thinking you're capable of right now matches the one of the waking world. No ordinary dream would be able to do that.” 

You mean to guide him with your words, purposefully sounding soft within the boundaries of his subconsciously created dream.

“I'm certain you can understand my doubts, no?” The gentle smile, one would assume he’d have on at this moment, is not present. Within the compounds of his dream, he doesn’t force that mask on. Letting the pure judgment, the slight narrowing of his eyes, and the tilt of his head be clear indicators of his inner thoughts.

“If you can reassure me that you'll be safe and collected, I can visit you.”

Sunday pauses, the sharpness of his eyes falling for a moment, “...visit?”

You nod, a graceful smile dancing on your lips. “Visit.”

The dream dissipates.

Meeting him in reality resulted in everything you expected it to. His golden eyes flashed shock, delight, surprise, sadness, and finally, anger. Words of blame and accusatory statements were thrown at you; how can you sit idly as people suffer, do you not have any sympathy for your own people, why would you not do anything as the Aeon of humanity? And so on. 

Finding the eternal patience within you, you explained that it isn't that easy, nor was it your place to meddle. From that point forward, any physical meetings turned to Sunday complaining and mourning all the injustice.

The man who listened to everyone's confessions and complaints turned to you to confess. To seek solace.

Green leaves begin inside a vernation; they grow big and sway in the wind on the tree branches throughout summer, and in the fall they turn brown, dry, and crisp, falling down to kiss the dark soil from which they came. Your mutual interest and adoration grew, while the internal harboring hatred towards you festered. Sunday understood your reasons, alas, he was unable to choke out any blame for your lack of action. Luckily, you had noticed how your feelings and care for the Halovian grew and blossomed, and therefore you came to visit him much less. Drifting apart, for different reasons. 

Perhaps the slight clench of a jaw escaped your eyes, and the smile that grew rotten out of the blame that he refused to speak up on again. A shiny red apple of love, that seemed to be growing, poisoned with your fear of the attention you were giving him, and his internal battle.

Push and pull. A game of tug-of-war and unspoken words. A flower that grew in your chest told you enough: you had fallen in love. Slowly, over time. Sunday drew you in like a bee to the blossom that he is.

There are rules against this; defenses, this isn’t a possibility. Therefore, you distanced yourself from the beautiful feelings he filled you with, the kind eyes that felt like a hug, the melodic voice that caressed your ears. A feather that caressed your forearm, leaving in its wake goosebumps along your skin. Imagining how it would feel to touch his hand, brush your fingertips against his wings—you had to stop.

Space was overdue to be created between you two. He didn’t speak your name and you didn’t show up in reality nor in his dreams. Days turned into months, and eventually into years.

The communication was lacking. Your words were colder. His prayers turned to something he’d dare utter in absolute privacy, in moments of weakness. At times, he hoped no one was looking at him or listening, no Aeon’s gaze on him or any bird that might’ve been eavesdropping.

A dark figure appears before him, a voice that he can hear only in his mind. Your voice. “You keep speaking my name in the late night.”

He didn't feel frightened by the sudden appearance, maybe just irritated at you for interrupting his time alone. “Ah… hello, Aeon.” Sunday’s eyes didn’t raise from the notebook in his lap, refusing to provide you the grace of acknowledging your presence in front of him.

“Is there something that urges you to preach my name like a lustful lover in the deaf hours of the night, Sunday?” Your voice revealed a certain sharpness to it. A silver knife that shines with the reflection of light falling upon it, with which you do not need to test to check if it will cut.

Sunday ignored you, dismissively gesturing with his hand. Pretending to be uncaring and unbothered by your presence. Acted like he didn’t call upon you while he was alone… away from the eyes of the Order. “I have work to do.” He entertains you with an uninterested tone, sending the message that you’re boring him.

“Then stop pleading my name.”

“I was doing something.” Sunday exhaled, placing his pen on the notebook and letting his hands rest. His expression turned to a tired annoyance when his eyes finally raised to look at your figure.

“Yes, indeed you were. Praying, complaining, begging, moaning,” you accuse him. You were blessed and cursed to hear him uttering words of prayer, his cusses of complaint, his pleading for help, and his moaning of pleasure.

“That’s not the whole story.” Sunday slowly stood up, getting himself ready to depart, giving the illusion that he wasn’t in the mood to argue or fight. A desperate man who rarely ever dares to call your name because of the mess that he is in right now. You know damn well that the powers of Order surround him. … It is not your place, nor your right to meddle with it. The fear in his eyes tells you stories that would break a human’s heart if they ever heard it. The smallest tremble of his hand, only visible for a mere second, is another confirmation. Not that you needed any, given how he still steals moments away from the eye of the Order to speak to you.

You smiled at his words and took a step forward, “You forget who I am, Sunday. I know the whole story. Your prayer wouldn’t let me sleep. Pleading, praying, bargaining, and offering… the climax of your… alone time as a gift. An offering—”

“Stop.” 

There it was. The acting. You remembered his panting and whimpers of your name very clearly. What an interesting way to pray, or rather, what an interesting way to make an offering. To offer one’s pleasure. 

It brought a small smirk to your face, to think that his façade was slowly crumbling. The Order could go kindly fuck themselves and leave this precious Halovian alone. You felt your protectiveness flare up, but it shouldn’t. You treat everyone equally. Just what is this feeling?

“You didn’t hear right,” Sunday protested calmly.

“Shall I replay my memories for you then?”

“…No” With flushed cheeks, he shook his head, and his wings fluttered. He knew he had no chance to win, not from an Aeon, so he didn’t continue arguing. And he definitely didn’t need to see his… alone time from your memories.

“Exactly.”

“Just leave me alone, please.” Sunday fidgeted with the pen in his hand, subtly glancing around. There’s a bigger, bad wolf in the forest of his mind, and it isn’t you.

“Nonetheless, you pleaded for me,” you try once more. Helping mortals isn’t something you can do. You’re not an actual god. A concept of one, sure, but you are an Aeon. Meddling isn’t within the rules or your nature. You wanted to help him, yet it isn’t within your power. This one’s fate had been sealed a long time ago. It was written as so. Anyone else, and perhaps it could have been within your hands to try and aid. Not him though. Not Sunday. He was out of your hands and out of your reach.

Moreover, he would need to say it out loud. That he wanted saving, needed your help.

“Shut up,” Sunday whispered.

“So, you do not need me? Very well then, stop praying when I’m trying to rest.” Shadows in the garden started pooling around your legs as you began to depart. 

It was rather peculiar. Anyone else’s prayers—although people do not pray much or if at all to Aeons—you were always able to tune out, or silence them for peace of mind. His, on the other hand, never. It felt like he was whispering directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine, a feeling you have never felt before. Unescapable. 

The fact that his voice was always soft, smooth, and gentle made it seem like a lullaby, you found yourself wishing to hear more of it, wishing for this little bird to sing for you.

“That’s not the case.” Sunday said quietly, before his thoughts caught up with him—before he could deny it. He does need you… in more ways than one.

“Cease your prayer if you talk to me with such disrespect.” The shadows around your form got thicker. Sunday paused, slightly surprised by how quick you were to change your temper. Rainbows and cotton candy aside, you were still an Aeon. He shall respect you as such… despite the extremely special treatment he gets from you.

A light broke apart the shadows and you were gone.

Sunday decided to pray to you less. Invoking your wrath wasn’t something he wished upon himself. 

Sunday’s prayers became fewer in number over the years. The grand plan for Penacony was bubbling under wraps and keeping him busy. But his fascination with you didn’t end. As the one and only hobby he had, he spent hours upon hours researching about you, about your Path, about how in some other universe, you were viewed as a God. A God who is prayed to properly, worshipped, with temples in your favor, written work and art made in your image. Perhaps in those universes, you had more power to help your people, he hoped.

Sunday found himself dragging his fingers over the digital screen portraying an art piece meant to represent you. It looked nothing like you. That did not matter to him, if he hadn’t known any better he would have assumed someone used the power of Harmony on him. Sunday felt drawn to you, enamored by any word that was written about you, overwhelmed with emotions he could not explain, silenced with secrets of the heart he would not dare utter.

Sheets rustled against his restless body. Sleep proved to be a distant friend, and insomnia a familiar foe. He glanced towards the clock beside his bed, it only showed the hours which had passed since he had laid his weary head down on the soft pillow. Sunday spent the next hour staring at the ceiling, tired golden eyes getting sore. There was an internal fight inside him between calling upon you, and not daring to do such a thing, which made him feel numb. Only by lying even to himself did he manage to get up and go to the balcony. By telling himself that he wanted fresh air. Even his thoughts were not safe from… well, anything. Hence, he didn’t have the privilege to think it through, to prepare. He could only fool himself in the hopes of dealing with one of the two things that trouble his mind. 

Sunday stepped out into the cold night air of the reality part of Penacony. He looked toward the sky above him. As he closed his eyes, he felt himself shiver a little as a chilly gust of night wind went by. He looked down towards the railing, where he placed his hands. They quickly lost their warmth, only to be replaced with an aching chill as his thoughts drowned out his mind again. At that moment, he dared to whisper your name.

You, on the other hand, were asleep, and once more he awoke you. You sent thunder through the sky the moment after his pleading and nothing more. 

Sunday spoke the words that simmered below the surface: below the blame of your inactions, his guilt of not doing more, his worry about the Order’s plans, his worry for his sister. They spilled out like water from a dam, finally running free, unprepared, messy, and uncontrolled. Letting them fly out as free doves. “I can’t sleep. All I think about is you. I know I said I was going to pray less…” He bit back the thought in his head which called him needy; reminding him this is an Aeon he is talking to and continues, “I’m sorry.” He muttered. Uncertain if he was saying it to himself or you. He stayed as such for a while, unsure of what to do, feeling cold and a little stupid.

As more minutes passed, he knew it was dumb to keep trying, but he couldn’t help it. He stopped holding it in. He opened the dam, and there was no closing it back. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You consume my very existence, and I don’t even understand it.” Sunday dryly chuckled, “Please, come to me again. I’m begging you. I… I need you.” Sunday felt his heart sink as no response was given. The wind that blew past him stopped. He wasn’t the first to beg an Aeon. Apathy. He stood there for another moment as a feeling of disappointment rushed over him. He felt selfish and outright crazy for being this way and acting like a desperate man. Sunday whispered your name once more along with, “Please… I’m begging…”

“Begging for what?” You spoke into his mind. Frankly, you couldn’t sleep. But if you were actually being honest with yourself… you couldn’t stay away. This Halovian felt like a magnet, something you couldn’t control or run away from.

“For you,” Sunday answered; he was being selfish. So selfish. “I just want you to be here for me. To listen to me, to… comfort me. Just please tell me that everything is going to be alright…” He lowered his head, he sounded desperate. He was desperate. His soft grey hair brushed his cheeks, hiding his face, wings fluttering as he exhaled.

“That is not how it works. I am not your lover, Sunday.” You rejected any and all thoughts of comfort he pleaded for, and shook your head. Why would you? Of course you wouldn’t, despite the feeling in your abdomen which urged you to do all of that. You were above such a feeling, and would not succumb to it.

“I know…” Sunday looked back up to the thundering sky, his eyes slightly watering, “Then what am I supposed to do? You consume me. I am stuck praising another one—following their Path—“ 

His voice breaks, out of fear of saying too much and the pain of his life right now. His reality. “It isn’t even about following a path, I just want you. I cannot find the words to explain when I don’t even understand it myself.”

“Obsessed with your religion,” you commented on his thoughts, despite your own not differing as much from his. How hypocritical.

“I am.” Sunday confirmed. It was the truth after all, or rather, a form of the truth. “I do not know what I can do… to please you. Or hold your attention, much less catch it in the first place.” Tears started to stream down his face. How long has it been since he’d cried? Sunday closed his eyes, unable to look at the night sky that seemed to mock him.

“Don’t cry.” You have seen humans cry before, however it never made your chest ache. It never forced your hand. 

“I’ll try,” he sniffed. A weak attempt to get himself together, thinking it was pathetic to appear like this in front of you. The shadows appeared in a blink of an eye and surprisingly warm hands cup his cheeks and wipe the tears away. You couldn’t help yourself, could you?

“You kept begging and woke me up. Again,” you said harshly in a quiet voice, clashing with your feelings of worry. Feelings? … That is a new one for you. This has all been growing more and more precarious with every passing day.

Sunday looked down, embarrassed by the fact that he made an Aeon come to him, not to mention the many times he had bothered you already. At the same time, he felt happy that you were him, your presence gave him a sense of comfort. “I apologize, I was selfish. Just so, so selfish. And undeserving…”

“What do you beg for, Sunday?” Your words brushed against his lips, mingled with his breath.

“I just want you to comfort me. To say something. To help the thoughts in my head quiet down so I can get some rest.” 

The fact you showed up in the physical realm, in reality, for the first time in front of him didn’t seem to faze him at all. If anything, his eyes softened like he was seeing an old friend after many years had passed. His requests were unclear even to him. He didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. “I am not your lover, mortal.” You kept your voice soft with the words that were meant to sting and remind him (and you) of his place.

“I know that. And yet… it still doesn’t stop me from craving your attention. It doesn’t stop me from needing you… yearning for you.”

With a sigh, you shook your head, “You don’t know the first thing about me, Sunday.”

“Tell me about yourself, then.” Sunday looked up towards you, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He felt like he knew plenty about you, but he wanted to know more. He wanted you to keep talking. He wanted to drown everything out, but the thoughts in his head just kept getting louder and harder to ignore. The plans of the Order continued consuming his mind.

“This isn’t a date underneath the starry sky. I am not like you.”

“We are different, I know that.” Sunday looked away for a moment, closing his eyes as he tried to compose himself once more. He felt himself shiver from the cold night wind. Sunday looked down towards the tile floor of the balcony, trying to find something else to focus on, to no avail.

“What worries you, Halovian?” Your warm hands left his cheeks. He seemed unsurprised by your physical appearance, that which he had seen in his dream before. Perhaps he already came to a conclusion that, of course, the Aeon of humanity would have the form of a human in reality. Or, that your Aeon form would be too much for any mortal’s eyes.

“The fact that, how I feel now, I can only describe with the words: I am in love with you.” Sunday puts it plainly out on the table. Granted, he is clever enough to draw that conclusion.

“Well, dear Sunday, that is not possible. A mortal cannot fall in love with an Aeon. There are protections for such things,” you say, shaking your head. Under any circumstances, it is simply impossible.

“Why do I still feel this way? Why can’t I get you out of my mind?” Sunday asked, seeking answers. He needed them, he needed something to make sense. 

He looked back at you. You were frowning. None of it made sense.

“You cannot… You—It isn’t possible. So, it isn’t true.” You were quick to deny it once more. 

“Then why… Why is it so hard to move on? I want to, I really do. But every time I try to, you’re there! Filling all my senses, shushing my every thought so there can only be you…” Sunday’s voice filled with frustration while his last words turned into a whisper. It was impossible, however; his eyes looked at you like you were the sun itself, and he were but a mere sunflower gazing into you with adoration.

That left only one thought in your mind. An idea. More like an idea wrapped up in indulgence, but an idea nonetheless. “I can find out.”

“You can…?” There was a hint of relief in his voice and a hope in his eyes.

“I can look into you, into your… life.” The words you meant to say died on your tongue; your timeline.

“Yes, please!” Sunday pleaded once more. “Anything. Just please, do it.”

You nodded to yourself. Here goes nothing. A hint of, what humans would call butterflies fluttered in your stomach and you stepped closer to him. In the next moment, your lips were on his. It was genuinely a way to find an answer. Sadly, you couldn’t enjoy the kiss, like the small voice inside you begged you to, and the answer to your shared questions came too quickly. 

Upon seeing his future, you pulled away. Your eyes showed surprise which you couldn’t possibly hide at that moment. Feeling rushed, you spoke on instinct, “Oh. We… We shall meet again. I know why.” In the next moment, you were gone in a poof of dark shadows.

By disappearing so quickly, you missed out on the rosy cheeks your kiss caused, the small gasp that left his lips when you pulled away, and his blown-out pupils. Sunday was too confused and dazed by the kiss to even comprehend what you said. Your disappearance left an emptiness behind, a hole which he was too well aware of. Whispers of the Harmony, the powers of which he neglects, whispered to him that this one was final, in spite of what you said.

The following years made him more numb, focused only on the plan for the revival of Ena, on the eternal dream – where he will live outside of it as the ultimate sacrifice. Sunday would never make his sister take that spot, no matter what lies he had told that he would.

Your name vanished from his mind like the memory of a deceased loved one that becomes grey over time, with the sound of their voice turning fuzzy until it is unrecognizable. The first few months, he’d mumble your name with warm water running down his body, across the tears that ran down his face, concealed by the shower stream. 

A whisper, a prayer, an utter, until he would speak it no more. His hobby of researching you also ended. His entire personality became the grand act of playing the Head of the Oak family, with him as the lead actor and only performer.

The curtain shall never fall, the theater will never close.

Even when the Astral Express had come, he begged them to argue against him, to prove him wrong, to do anything to show him that there is another way. The Nameless couldn’t understand him, nor the points he was making. Unknowingly to him, he had incapacitated the only man who would be willing to argue him and approach it as a debate or a conversation, Welt Yang. Possibly the only one who would have heard him out and openly debated him with an objective approach.

The artificial wind of the dream blew against his back in his slow fall from the mech he built. Ena was almost revived. Sunday almost ascended to Aeonhood. The embrace of his sister was the only moment he had felt something other than pure focus on the goal. Something other than the shell of a Halovian he became with the goal of being more humane.

Sunday didn’t learn actual love, nor how it feels to be loved. His sister is the one and only expectation, along with the love he has for his mother when he visits her grave with fresh flowers.

Comfort isn’t Sunday’s thing. He is like a match, he needs to burn and burn out till the wooden wick turns black and ashen.

The head of the Oak family… Former head of the Oak family. “What a joke…” he chuckles dryly. His wrists and ankles are marked red from the shackles and chains they held him in. The cold metal against his soft skin is still fresh in his mind, chaining a Halovian… An angel in chains—so much like the archangel Lucifer—except Lucifer was never a bad guy, and nor is Sunday. That's what he believes at least. Or, perhaps Sunday is more like Icarus; he got too close to the sun—touched the hand of a god, of an Aeon.

This ‘freedom’, if he can even call it that, given by madam Jade—it will surely be short-lived, like a firefly in the summer, burning out his life. What deal did Robin make with that woman? The worry for his sister made him feel powerless—he should be the one saving her and making sure she is happy, not the other way around. Sunday should find her. He needs to see his sister to make sure she is okay.

Behind his heavy eyelids, Sunday recalls how she caught him, held him… Silently murmured prayers to the Harmony fall from his lips in hopes that she is alright. He would forsake anyone, anything, even himself, his pride, and his beliefs, and fall on the ground to pray to any Aeon if it meant his sister would be safe.

Sunday’s steps are heavy, silenced by the carpet in the empty hotel room. The door clicks as it closes, and he chuckles once again, a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve failed. At… everything. I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t give everyone a happy life in the dreamworld—I couldn’t—” Sunday’s words get stuck in his throat and he chokes on them, feeling the flower petals bloom inside his throat, constricting his breathing and making his mouth dry. His gaze raises to the ceiling. Is he seeking a remnant of Ena? No… Sunday is regretting his failure. “I was never enough. I didn’t do well... enough.”

Gold, sun-like eyes fill with hot tears that slowly tread down his cheeks and he falls to his knees. He softly shakes his head and stands back up. “No… no.” 

Sunday, even in his fall from the sky, doesn’t allow himself to tread so lowly that he’d weep on the floor. Instead, he walks further into the room which, in his gaze, looks distorted, in the same way the world looks when one’s eyes are full of tears threatening to overflow.

Sunday’s eyes are now dry, his hands calm without a tremor as he slowly takes off his jacket, and another one… and his shirt. The wings usually wrapped around his waist relax and sit behind him, long, light, never seen by another. The gloves come off his hands and he continues stripping down until he stands without any restrictions. Troubled mind with troubled eyes focused on the clothes laid out on the bed. Why are his clothes the only thing he can control right now? Sunday turns his back to the bed, frustration washing over his body. 

“What’s next… What is it that I can do next? Where… where would I even go?” Sunday’s voice turns to soft mumbles while his back remains straight and shoulders square. Even after everything, he holds himself up high, elegant, and firm, as if he is always being observed by a silent shadow of his past that judges his every move.

With heavy steps, he walks into the bathroom and towards the bathtub. A sour sight; the wound’s still fresh. Sunday sits in the normal bathtub—unlike the Dreamscape’s entrance. Water fills it slowly,  his head hanging over the edge. Sunday sighs, the match has burnt out and the hot water brings him no comfort. Sunday’s mind takes a short pause, a mere breather full of regret and knives pressing against the hill of his throat, as he struggles to swallow the mistakes, the failures, and thoughts of what he could have done differently.

Mere moments later, his head raises again, the vulnerability in his eyes gone, the tundra cold inside once more while he organizes the information in his head and creates a new plan for moving forward. 

It is all chaos, his mind an image of books that fell off the shelves, shredded paper flying around with crossed out writing on them, furniture thrown, flipped over; a complete mess. Sunday made this mess and now he must sit in it. He, a previous follower of the Order.

His overconfidence lasts only so long as he comes to the conclusion he cannot stay the same. He has to change and heal… and leave.

Once he’s dressed in new, different clothing, he realizes the hopelessness of his situation once more. In his loneliness, his wants and needs which have been ignored for years, his wishes and desires had been stomped on and left in the dust, and the pain of this realization hurt. The pain envelopes him. Sunday desperately searches his mind for the last time he was himself: not under the effects of the Order, or any man, or any plan. Just him.

Your name resurfaces in his mind, and with the flutter of butterfly wings, it blossoms like a lotus flower, its petals opening up with a soothing scent. The memory of your hands holding his face, your warmth, your lips, your words, a melody he wishes to hear more of. It all calms him down, holding him, the memories caressing him like the autumn sun against his skin.

There is nothing here. No one of ulterior motives, only him and you in his mind. So he, once more, after years of silence, utters the name of the Aeon he used to pray to, the Aeon he loves in inexplicable ways, yearning to see them. At a time when he just needs comfort while hiding in a hotel room, away from the authorities trying to punish him for his wrongdoings in Penacony, despite the years of no answer… the Aeon appears in front of him once more.

His failure to ascend to Aeonhood echoed through the universe… your universe. You couldn’t peel your eyes away, actual physical pain filled your body every time that train crashed into him. His one mumble was enough to make you appear.

Finally free of his shackles, you get to come to him. You have the opportunity and you jump on it. How could you not?

The moment his eyes fall on you he steps forward. Despite all these years, you are still you, and he is, finally, once more, him.

“Please,” he uttered in a broken voice. The droplets of tears looked like diamonds as they threatened to drop. There had never been a man who looked more beautiful crying than him. No one who has looked more ethereal. It took the air out of your lungs. Like a living painting, a moving statue. Moving towards you with big sad eyes, the stars reflecting in his tears and the last glimmer of hope—the very last. The one to be held by you. To be comforted. Hold him. Please.

Your voice sounded as cold as ever, unable to help the pretense for a few moments. “Sunday.” 

Too many years have passed, are you even allowed to touch him anymore? To approach him? To talk to him as you usually did? Did you not lose that right after you left without a word?

As a clear tear overflows and falls down his cheek, you can barely hold your body back from holding him. 

“Sunday.” You manage to repeat in a softer tone. Alas, he offers no response. Stuck in the paused stance, waiting for a clear yes or no.

You manage to barely nod. He steps forward and so do you—and then you’re embracing him, holding him, and the air once more flows through your lungs. It felt like you weren’t fully inhaling air for years after leaving. This is how it feels when a planet starts rotating again. A crisp, refreshing, winter air. It awakens you. 

Hot tears wet your shirt and the same fabric muffles his sobs. Sunday breaks down like shattered icicles that children throw on the ground. Be careful to not get cut on the shards. Something inside you makes you doubt his sides are that sharp. In your arms, falling apart, he feels as soft as a marshmallow, but you hold him like he is a glass figurine; careful yet tight. Fearing he will fracture.

“I’m here,” you whisper into his hair, your free hand pressing the back of his head into you.

You can only imagine how he feels. How it feels to escape the control of the Order, to give up powers of the Order and the Harmony. To fail at his one goal for which he was willing to sacrifice his whole life, wishes, and wants for the good of others. To fall and live as a mortal. He was mortal beforehand and brushed the precipice of Aeonhood, yet now he claims he will walk among mortals to learn what that truly means for him. Sunday lost everything he was. Everything he is. Hence, you can only imagine how it must feel to not know who you are, what you will do, how to talk, interact, and how to walk down the street.

His arms wrap around you, hands scrunching your shirt into his fists, afraid you’ll disappear. Or perhaps hanging on to you as to not drown, to not sink beneath the waves.

“You’re here,” Sunday mumbles between sobs, hanging more onto you, clutching your body in his arms – terrified you’ll vanish into thin air.

“I won’t go this time. I promise,” you whisper into his hair; not even a war between Aeons couldn’t pull you away from him now.

What more could you say to the one who believed the ends justify the means? The one who was willing to use himself as the ultimate sacrifice so that everyone could be happy? For who would not wish to live in eternal paradise…?

Days passed with him in your embrace. You couldn’t bear to leave his side. And now, you didn’t have to force yourself to on the basis of him being a Halovian and you being an Aeon. It was time for him to learn the truth you found out the day you kissed him. No guilty whispers in your consciousness saying that you had to leave him, that this is improper and forbidden and against every law and border and anyone and anything who might say something. Nothing. In your head, there was only silence.

You listened to his sobs and soothed his regrets. During quiet moments, resting in your arms, he’d come to the conclusion of needing to change by himself. You needn’t intrude. Only after he came to, felt like the man that he never got to know, and dressed in new attire, did he question you about the day you left.

“Did you figure out why?”

“I think so. I think I figured out why I feel the way I do… towards you.” Sunday’s eyes fell onto you, portraying the softness of the most fragile flower. His heart was pounding, and a level of nervousness was still there.

“You… almost ascended to Aeonhood. In your attempts, you failed to do so and that is why you were able—you are able to feel these things towards me.” In simple words, you begin to explain. As Sunday stepped towards you, he felt somewhat regretful of his actions, with a small rock in his shoe being his failure to ascend.

“I care. You claimed it wasn’t possible…” He held back the urge to hug you, fearing your next words.

“An Aeon can only love one ever and forever. And it is always matched. When I kissed you, years ago, I confirmed why you could care for me. I saw you failing to reach Aeonhood, but almost succeeding in it. That explains why you were able to feel obsessed even beforehand. It isn't like mortal love. It isn't linear. You bent the rules of the universe and fell in love with me. Aeons’ love is predetermined.” You reached out to brush his cheek as you spoke, the velvet skin under your fingertips grounded you in this moment with him.

“Only one. But who?” Sunday got lost in your words, scared of unrequited love, terrified of your rejection, and blinded by his feelings to truly hear what you were saying.

“Which part confuses you?” You smile, willing to take all the time in the universe to explain it to him.

“Who is your… only one?” Sunday whispered. His bottom lip trembled for a moment, and his wings shook—if asked, he’d probably blame it on the wind blowing from the open balcony doors.

“The only one that it could be.” You nod with a soft smile.

Sunday gazed at you. Suspicion and worry flashed in his narrowed eyes as he took the time to scan your body language.

“Only in pairs. I’m your pair, Sunday. Yes, you may have failed to reach Aeonhood, but you almost succeeded. And the ability to love an Aeon bled through the cracks and spilled over your lifetime, making you love me earlier than it was physically possible, taking a toll on your mortal body, and ending up with you feeling obsessed.” Sunday stepped closer, and he gently took off one of his gloves and hovered his hand above your cheek.

“You’re mine? You… care for me?”

“I always have. I rejected it because I deemed it impossible. I no longer reject it. I am… I look forward to eternity with you, my beloved.”

Sunday’s wings fluttered and both of you blushed, him out of shyness, you out of happiness. Finally, you are able to be frank with him, after years.

“Well then, my love. Shall I make a joke?” You attempt to ease the air, so as to not pressure him into anything too suddenly.

Sunday smiled, his left wing twitching at the sound of you calling him such a sweet word. “Yes… please.”

Here goes your attempt to mimic actual human humor—the bad kind. “What did the sushi say to the bee?”

“Hm, what?”

“Wasabi.”

Silence. Sunday’s nose scrunched and he cringed slightly, “That was…bad. Really bad.” He softly laughed.

“Then I have achieved what I wished. I never said it would be good.” Both of you laughed warmly and let go of the weight on your shoulders.

Sunday’s mind ran away and worried in the background. What if all of this was a dream and he’d wake up having to face the harsh cold reality?

“I wouldn’t mind spending an eternity with you.”

“Good. You’re doomed to spend it with me.” 

“That’s fine by me,” Sunday replied in a light tone. He felt giddy about the whole situation.

“Couples formed by Aeons are the only ones that will stay alive and never fall. Currently, there’s only us.”

Sunday let the information sink in, it felt overwhelming. “So it’s just us, until the end of time?”

With a nod you confirm, “And neither of us have a choice.”

“Even if we did, I still would have chosen you. I’ll always choose you.” The tension has fallen and he finally cups your cheek with his bare hand. It brings a smile to your face. “You’re pretty when you smile.”

“You’re flirty,” you answer with an even bigger smile. “I want to kiss you more.”

For a moment, Sunday felt unlike his usual self, perhaps leftovers of Wonweek which pushed him to tease, “I thought Aeons didn’t stoop that low.”

“You’re tied to me until the end of time. I’ll be whatever I wish.” You raise your chin and smirk.

The scenery around the two of you changed with every touch of your lips. The heat of the summer sun, the salt of the sea, the cinnamon scent of tiger lilies, violins playing a waltz. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. 

The closeness of the two of you expanded over the following years.

You were pacing around your now shared home. Sunday never had a home, not really. And you grew up mortal, so a house, a home was something you both wished for. Especially with his wishes to travel and stay within the mortal realm. Hence, you two live together.

A weak mumble of your name made you practically teleport by the side of your bed. Sunday sat there, face in his hands, flushed, crying. You sat beside him and cupped his face. “My precious, why are you crying?”

Sunday felt pathetic. He tried to speak, his voice but a whimper of sobs that he tried to settle down before saying, “I—I had a nightmare.” His chin trembled from the effort of holding back his tears. He leaned further into your touch, somewhat ashamed of his state, “I’m sorry I—“ A sob that escaped his lips cut him off.

“I curse the lord of the dreams for sending you a nightmare,” you utter, wiping his tears away. You moved to sit on the floor in front of him. “My treasure…” Sunday was in awe of your display of devotion. Despite feeling unworthy of your love, your actions spoke loudly and it was all he needed to ground himself.

“Deep breaths. It will pass. Only a nightmare.” You kept your voice mellow and soft.

Sunday focused on his breathing, feeling himself slowly start to calm down. The lump in his throat dissipated and he could breathe easily again, “It was just a nightmare…” he whispers, still somewhat anxious from the stress of his mind.

“Shall I hold you, my sun?” you offer, resting your hands on his legs.

Sunday nodded and you held him. You embraced him as you always do, pulling him up against your body on the bed. Rubbing his side, leaving fluttering kisses along his wings.

“It was only a nightmare. It will not happen again, I will make sure of it,” you whispered in a threatening voice. Sunday felt a sense of comfort and security from your words, reassurance that you will always be there for him. His eyelids felt heavy as he relaxed in your arms, slowly drifting off to sleep. “I love you…”

“I love you too.” You spent the duration of his sleep laying kisses on his temple and cheek, lacing blessed words, making sure a nightmare never occurs again. Sunday slept soundly for the following hours, dreaming of only the most pleasant memories.

Sunday still kept his goal of wanting to create a paradise for everyone. The first thing on his to-do list is to see other claims of such a paradise. Thus, the two of you traveled and spent months, years at a time, wherever you wished. There was no rush to leave a planet too soon. Sunday made notes, gave arguments, and expressed his thoughts to you, in which you indulged him and discussed anything he wished, amusing his whims and desires. Unlike him, you wished to only look at your loved one at these gorgeous locations. The ones you showed him in his dreams. Time is but a thread both of you weaved in your favor. A sword with which it can be cut has not been invented yet. Eternity, only a fidget toy at your fingertips. And your beautiful, wonderful, significant other.

It was on one of these remarkable planets that you were now staying at: Amphoreus. Problematic, yet breathtaking in its sights. An area of war and pain, however, the people in Okhema lived as if nothing was going on. It intrigued him. Your room was vast, with a private balcony, dark blue curtains, a bed softer than a cloud, and even a personal bath. It looked more like a pond to you than a bath but to each their own. You concealed your identity with the utmost care. No Aeons resided here. You ought to be careful and only play the role of visitors, tourists. While you pondered whether you had covered all your tracks, your train of thought was interrupted.

A soft hand pressed behind your thigh, pushed into the soft flesh, making you gasp in surprise. You draw your gaze away from the notebook in your hand, and before you can even fully grasp the situation, you feel lips press in the middle of your thigh and then you see Sunday kneeling in front of you.

“Sunday, love, why are you kneeling?”

“Are you not meant to be worshipped like this?” he says with a small smile, obviously flirting, looking up at you.

“Well, technically—“ Your words get interrupted by Sunday clarifying, “Am I not allowed to worship you the way you deserve?”

The sight alone, of him naked on his knees, freshly showered, is an intimate one, to say the least. You reached down to brush his damp hair, “My precious, you may, but I worry for your knees…” As you asked your question, he continued laying kisses along your thigh while maintaining eye contact.

“I assure you, I do not mind,” he muses and starts leaving kisses in which he also darts his tongue out a bit.

“Sunday!” you scold him, nudging him subtly to get up.

“My everything, allow me this much,” Sunday pleads and you cannot say no to those pretty eyes. A sigh escapes you and you nod. 

He continues kissing along your leg, moving towards your hip, where he stops to nibble a bit, along to the softness of your tummy, the hills of your ribs, the crook of your collarbone, licks and small bites following the column of your neck until he passionately meets your lips. Pulling you near him, making you fall on top of him on the bed. Your hand tangles in his hair, brushing past his wings, getting high on his taste.

Your other hand follows the trail of his spine, sprawling out across the plains of his back and moving to trail the soft valley of his stomach, brushing against his nipples and making his lips stutter in the kiss. Having a lover so sensitive to your touch excites you. Of course he’d be sensitive to any touch, with how he barely ever has any skin visible when you two walk around.

You part from his lips to leave open-mouthed, hot kisses along his jaw, nibbling a bit, teasing him until you actually decide to bite down and leave plum-colored marks in your wake. His melodic moans and whimpers only urge you to move lower and tease him more. Taking a nipple into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue, he lets out a choked noise, making you smile against his skin.

“My everything, do not part from me for too long,” Sunday breathlessly uttered.

“I am enjoying…”—with small pecks, you trail your way back up—“…my lover. And there’s more to you than just your lips” You smile, hovering above his face.

“You… are making me feel needy.” Sunday exhales, meeting your eyes.

“Good. I plan to fulfill those needs.” You meet his lips once more as a distraction before moving back down his torso, where he interrupted you.

His halo shines brightly every time you make him see the stars he loves oh so much. His whimpers of your name echo in your head like a prayer he moans them as. The gold in his eyes melts, occasionally crying from sheer pleasure. It is easy to say you are good at making him see the heaven he wishes to create. Taking your sweet time with every touch, worshipping him the way he loves worshipping you.

You dare claim he moves even slower than you in his worship. Unlike him, you’re not as sensitive and therefore can enjoy his slow pace of kissing every part of you and looking at you with eyes low.

Although it isn’t always that slow. The times when he gets really into showing you his love, to the point he makes lustful noises, lost in the pleasure he is giving you, drunk on your taste on his lips, that is when you lose your patience—tugging his hair and crashing your lips against his in a needy manner. His confidence is evident in his smirk against your lips. Despite being a gentle lover, with a preference for making love, sometimes he does want the heat and the rush, your thirst and your possessiveness over your significant other.

Wherever the two of you seek the heaven of your own founding, you leave beds of flowers blossoming around the building. No matter the planet’s season or concrete, stone ground. Flowers will bloom between the cracks and piles of snow, leaving the locals in awe, unaware of your own power.

Sunday’s whispers are only the sweetest things in bed, they make you dizzy with love. “I should have worshipped you sooner.” 

“Worship in the bedroom—” you utter with rose-dusted cheeks.

“Only if you command it. Even then, I’d disobey, only to worship the ground you walk on, and then you may judge me for my sins, my everything…”

The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you.

a/n: the title is a song lyric from Hot Gum by Sofia Isella and the last line is from Take me to Chruch by Hozier (and the inspiration for the last 3 lines)

divider cr: @milklemondrop

[dragonzfanfics11]

Request - i think it would be interesting if like someone did an au where kit survives (maybe is made to come back alive to learn about being human, a part for his last sacrifice and his karma) and he meets the reader. Maybe it’s the next year and reader moves there and meets him. Imagine the fluff and angst because his trust issues are all over the place but he also knows what he did was wrong. Idk I think it’ll be a fun dynamic to go through with him learning more how to be human and reader isn’t really scared when they find out just thrown off guard (either they can be normal or have some background with magic) Either way can’t wait! @venture-venus

I almost completely forgot about this request 😭

For this I'm js gonna say kit survives and js kinda has to move on from jentry and that sorta thing, also just human reader unless you wanna make yourself have powers go ahead lol (should be pretty neutral for powers or no powers)

Warnings - awkward-ish kit, some trust issues, reader either knows a little bit bout magic or likes the demon or otherworldly stuff, probably spelling errors

(That was so long lol, here's the actual writing now)

���♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ ~☆-how you met-☆~

After jentry,michle,stella, and Ed saved the town (with some of kits help) kit agreed he'd leave jentry alone and try to make new frends /find his own group of people

Which apparently proved itself to be kinda hard for kit because he didn't know who to try and talk to

What if they hate me? What uf they get scared of me like everyone else? How am I suppost to tell them I'm a demon? What if,what if, what if

All of his 'what ifs' definitely made it so much harder for him to just "be human" and make friends

That is until he met you

After trying to make friends last year he kinda knew the faces of most of the other students

But you he's never seen before, and he felt like maybe this is his chance, your new and probably needed frends anyways so that's good odds for you to be his frend right?

Your first few encounters with him were definitely a bit awkword

All of the other people he got close with were technically "targets" or people he had to manipulate into trusting him for there qui (is that spelt right?)

He didn't actually know how to make frends without the whole "manipulation" part

But he was at least nice! It was honestly kinda cute the way he would stumble over his words and fidget with his bag or rings

~Finding out he's a painted skin~

It definitely took him a long time to actually get courage to tell you

And it's safe to say he was terrified

Depending if he made up with jentry or not she'd probably help him tell you or at least give him a pep talk

he was also completely shocked when you didn't try to run away in fear or even look that scared of him really

He was even more shocked when you walked twords him

(He probably backed up a bit just out of reflex)

After he processes your not scared of him (it probably takes him a good while for it to fully set in) hes beyond relieved

Definitely still has some fear talking about it/awnsering any questions you have about his demon form

After a while (prob a long while cuz he's still scared) he'll show you how he makes his skin suit-stuff

Only if you wanted to of course he wouldn't want to make you throw up or something 😭

~Random headcanons cuz I think they cute :3~

Stutterd constantly for a good month or so, like once evry conversation

Still kinda does when you ask him random things about his demon form/demon stuff in general

Still is happy to awnser your questions though

Probably asked about human traditions and stuff to get a better understanding of being human

Hes asked you to help him find a outfit style that fits him at least once

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I hope that's what you were expecting!! Sorry for taking so long to write it I've been busy 🥲

Also this doesn't mean my requests are open but I might open them later maybe idk :P

[lyculuscaelus]

Hold Him

(Inspired by this ask of my moot @jarondont; changed a little something though; an AU partially based on Epic and partially on the Odyssey)

Telemachus was just making sure the ship was fully docked when the sound of breaching came.

Slashes of metal bit through the hull as his comrades cried out in terror—fear seized them all. Telemachus quickly issued the order to take arms, while he himself picked up a spear and a handy shield, fearful uncertainty brewing in his eyes. His young companions did the same—Ctesilaus, Amphidamas, Polyalus…all twenty of his childhood friends. But they did not have the time to put on the armor when the dreadful war-cries burst out, catching all of them off guard.

“Get ready, everyone,” Telemachus warned. “Here they come.”

Twenty well-armed warriors stormed into the hollow ship, charging on board. Javelins flew across the distance, hitting the shields and decks, chewing into bands of their shields with fierce force. Ctesilaus yelled out in pain as a spear found its way to his human heart, spilling out dark blood and agony. Amphidamas blocked a blow in time and returned with a thrust of his spear, ending his opponent’s life in an instant. Telemachus raced to the crowd of fighters, his spear never relented in striking. He managed to take down five warriors before the spear in his palm was knocked off by a heavy blow, while another clash of shields sent him flying to the edge of the deck, dropping his shield in the process. Pain swarmed up in his spine as he landed heavily.

Ouch.

Where was the strength of the son of Odysseus?

It’s just like the last time. Or all the times before that. I never really stand a chance in any fight, and maybe never will.

Telemachus struggled to get up again. Before his blurry vision, warriors continued to falter. People continued to fall.

People that he called friends. People whose survival relied solely on him—

The son of Odysseus, the leader of men.

And he could only watch them fall.

Ctesilaus was lying on deck, his breath already left him; Amphidamas was no longer wielding the spear in his hand, for it had already loosen its strength; Polyalus was still holding on, protecting the injured Anticlus, as those dreadful warriors continued to press on, and press on, and…

And all Telemachus could hear, were the screams of the fallen. The screams of his friends.

They were dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

How did I allow this to happen?

“Odysseïdes…”

Eurylaus let out his one last moan and crumbled.

I failed them. I failed them all. In the end, I was too incompetent. They should never have placed their trust in me in the first place.

“They’re too many—”

A slashing sword found Polymedes on the neck as the rest of his body fell to the deck, his sword rolling out from the palm of his motionless right hand, finding its solace.

I am not a good leader. They are dying because of me.

“My prince…”

Telemachus found Theodices holding the right side of his stomach, the chiton was already drenched in red. But it was a smile that came to Theodices’s lips. A smile that was trying to take away the prince’s sorrow. A smile that was blaming him of nothing, yet everything.

In the end, I was too inexperienced, too incapable, too weak.

“Goodbye…it’s an honor to serve you.”

And then Theodices, the last remained, crumbled silently. Behind his fallen body, a group of twelve warriors were standing still. The smirk on their faces was proudly claiming their victory.

It was then did Telemachus recover from shock, realizing his plan to flee—

—And run into a taller figure. His helmet spoke of nothing but malice.

“Where do you think you’re going,” Telemachus heard him saying. But that voice…it can’t be… “Little wolf?”

All of a sudden, Telemachus felt his heart stopped.

So it’s him.

The figure removed his shining helmet, revealing the scarred face of a man Telemachus knew so well. A man Telemachus hated so much.

Antinous.

But does that mean…

Other warriors were doing the same now, he noticed. They were all taking off the helmets to show their faces: Eurymachus, Agrius, Eurynomus, Ormenius…so they have finally come to this. Murder and taking over. Telemachus clenched his fists, feeling so sick.

“What a fine day to take a trip, wouldn’t you agree?” Antinous continued as other suitors behind him were approaching. Telemachus tensed himself. But desperation was growing like a cancer inside. How could I possibly even fight them all…

“You mother must be worried sick.”

“That’s none of your concern,” Telemachus retorted. “Now just leave me alone—”

“Alone? Alone, did you say?” Antinous simply laughed. “But you are alone, little wolf. You are always alone. Nobody will care about you. Not your people, not your friends, not even your family—”

“This isn’t true,” Telemachus shook his head in protest.

“—You really think your mother cares about you?” ignoring Telemachus’s retort, Antinous continued. “What a joke. She must’ve known so well you’re just a failure trying to become your father, and always failing. She must’ve known so well you can never be king.”

Telemachus glared at this man in front of him—that smirk on his face never faded. This isn’t true. Don’t listen to what he says.

But he had to— “And where’s your father when you needed him?”

The world felt like spinning now.

Telemachus hissed, feeling his throat tighten. The sense of suffocation slowly swarmed up as Telemachus gasped heavily, trying to forge a response, trying to find an answer to Antinous’s taunt. But deep down, he already knew. Antinous was speaking the truth.

No one will come and help me now.

His eyes felt like burning.

In the end, it’s just me, myself, and I.

It’s just me against the suitors, against the tides…against everything. Gods, I am so alone.

“So you see? Nobody cares if you’re alive or dead, little wolf,” Antinous sneered, driving Telemachus’s thoughts back to reality. “So when you die, no one will shed a noble tear. Only silence will lament you.”

Maybe it’s time to accept reality now, Telemachus. There is no hope. There never will be.

Antinous was turning around, gesturing the rest of the suitors to move forward. Only one sentence could Telemachus make out—yet one sentence was more than enough—

“Hold him down,” Antinous ordered.

The suitors rushed to the prince, their weapons ablaze. His hands empty, Telemachus didn’t even bother to make any move. He was only watching silently as the suitors came, grasping his arms and shoulders, kicking his knees, forcing him to yield before this towering figure of Antinous right in front. Telemachus didn’t even bother to struggle.

For he had already accepted everything—his failures, his loneliness, his life…his fate. Fate of death. It was neither rage nor sorrow that was gripping him now. For the first time in his life, Telemachus felt relieved.

Relieved of this life he was struggling to suffer.

Just let the end come, swiftly, silently.

Antinous pulled out a dagger from his girdle, playing with it fluently in his palms. “Tell me, little wolf: do you prefer a quick death,” he was flipping the dagger when asking. “Or a fulfilling one?”

“Just…do what you want of me,” Telemachus spit out blankly. “I don’t care now.”

“Very good, then,” an ominous smile slowly crawled to Antinous’s lips. “Then perhaps I can spare you your throat.”

He kept his gaze at the dagger for a while before plunging it into Telemachus’s chest. Dark blood was streaming from his torso, turning the white chiton into a blossoming crimson. Agony enshrouded him as Telemachus cried out weakly, his voice already failing him.

He didn’t hear the sound of an arrow as he crumbled.

He didn’t see how Antinous fell, his hand still holding the shaft that pierced through the chestplate and the flesh inside.

He didn’t notice the arrival of another ship, as torrents of arrows sliced through the air, finding their aim at the suitors’ body, taking them down one by one, until no one was left standing.

Someone had stepped on board, rushing at the faltering Telemachus in haste. Telemachus felt the touch of human warmth holding his body as he struggled to open his eyes, finding the familiar face of a boy he once knew. It belonged to…

“Peisis, you came to me,” Telemachus muttered weakly. “You finally…came to me.”

“Yes…” the young prince of Pylos whispered, tears already forming in his eyes. “But I took too long. It’s my fault—”

“No, Peisis,” Telemachus smiled sadly. “No…don’t blame yourself. I…it…it doesn’t matter now.”

Peisistratus forced a smile, but tears were already dropping from his eyelids. “I’m sorry I can’t get to you in time,” he replied.

“But still…” Telemachus continued. “How…why did you come? I thought…I thought I’d asked you to stay.”

“And stay I did,” Peisistratus answered. “Until a friend came to me, asking me to bring a ship here.”

“Friend?”

“Your friend,” Peisistratus continued softly. “Maybe you know her better as, well, the bright-eyed goddess.”

“Athena?” Telemachus gasped. “But…how?”

“She said she didn’t make it in time either,” Peisistratus replied. “Someone delayed her for a while, and she had only recovered from her wounds just now…”

“Wounds?”

“It’s a long story—at least that’s what she said,” Peisistratus answered quickly.

Telemachus didn’t reply. His breath was already running short. Peisistratus only took up his right hand, and handed him something.

Telemachus opened his palm to find a golden necklace sitting inside. It was a beautiful gift, a chain of gold leaves all carved with the letter Τ—all on the left side of the chain. And then Peisistratus showed him another necklace, with the letter Π carved on every gold leaf on the right side. Telemachus mustered the strength to grin.

“They’re matching ones,” Peisistratus explained. “For our friendship.”

Telemachus nodded satisfyingly. “Thank you, Peisis.”

“And…you must have many things to say to your mother…and father too, I guess,” Peisistratus continued, changing the topic. “Do you want me to…”

“Yes—it’ll be great,” Telemachus coughed. “Just tell my mother, I love her, and, I’m sorry…”

“Wait, sorry?” Peisistratus couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah…I’m sorry. I failed her, after all…”

“But you didn’t fail anyone,” Peisistratus replied quickly. “You have fought bravely, and no one should take that honor away from you.

“You truly are the son of Odysseus,” Peisistratus gave his shoulder a squeeze. “And I’m honored to have you as my friend, even just for such a short moment in my life. I’m glad to have known you, Telemachus.”

“Thanks…” Telemachus said. His sound was softer than a whisper now. “You too, Peisis…I’m honored, to have, known…

And then Telemachus let another smile play on his face. “Time to meet you, father…”

Peisistratus never forgot that day when Ithaca lost its prince, when he lost his best friend…when a father lost his son, missing the entire life of his son, all in twenty years of wandering.

It was hard to accept, Peisistratus admitted. Not even gods could plan things this cruel, to shatter a reunion with the pain of death. Fates had done this family unfair…

But then, there were times when he would hear whispers of a certain figure that would show up when people were planning or scheming, when they were working with their mind thinking quick. These reports of a certain figure that resembled the prince of Ithaca himself intrigued Peisistratus deeply. Maybe this was why he had never got to see his friend’s body for one last time, when the entire form of Telemachus had suddenly faded in front of his eyes.

For rumors had it that the figure was always accompanying the Ithacan king Odysseus—finally returned in the twentieth year, whenever he planned for stealth or plunder. There was no way for Peisistratus to confirm it, of course—until that very day, when he came across his friend once again, in the realm of quick thought; when he spoke with him once again, learning that neither his father nor he would be alone now—for in the domain of thoughts they would forever be together, as decreed by Athena, where they would be exchanging stories, talking of their past, planning for a future that only one would witness, the other behold.

Then Peisistratus knew it all: how Telemachus was brought to the domain of Quick Thought, for he was Athena’s friend; how he in his divine essence still missed his father, and thus became the patron of the mind of resourceful Odysseus. They’re holding fast to each other’s memory now, Peisistratus thought. Maybe it’s for the better. For after all, isn’t to fall, to learn one way?

And what a great way it is to have their reunion, at last.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Jeonghan: Sold (Part One)

Characters: Jeonghan x female reader (this part has no mention of reader tho hehe sorry!!)

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, loooots of mentions of the black market/human trafficking, people in cages, just a lot of bad things happening here lmao

Word count: 1,555

Summary: If Jooyeon and Baekhyun never went snooping around the black market, they would’ve never discovered the human trafficking ring and wanted to help. They would’ve never discovered you inside one of the many cages full of people, and Jeonghan would’ve never went against the alphas and demanded they help. But for you, Jeonghan would do anything, even if it means bringing back trouble from a past he never knew about.

a/n: everyone thought i gave up on tftp BUT I DIDN'T i just haven't gotten a chance to really sit down and work on anything BUT FINALLY HERE IT IS!!!! updates will be slow btw please be patient with me <3

Next | Sold Masterlist

Wonwoo told her no. Hell, even Danbi told her no. But what were they supposed to do when Baekhyun scoffed and said, “It’s fine, I’ll go with her. Let’s go, kid.”

So now they were awkwardly standing toward the edge of the market, acting like they were perusing the stands but they were actually keeping an eye out to see if Baekhyun and Jooyeon would return. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Baekhyun to keep the younger girl safe, but it was that anything could happen to them where they’d gone. The black market was a lawless land.

“What’s that over there?” Jooyeon had pointed out as they group got closer toward the secluded area of the market that nobody really went toward.

There was a slight disconnect between the market the pack typically browsed in, and the illegal and shady one. If one wasn’t paying attention, they might wander straight into the black market – which had already happened before and was why Jooyeon became so curious in the first place – but it was clear that a lot of people didn’t go over toward the black market, and a lot of things were being kept hidden for a reason.

Such as the large tent made out of tarps that was put up toward the back corner, and it had caught Jooyeon’s eye since it was something different.

“I don’t know, but there’s a lot of sound coming from inside,” Baekhyun mumbled as he tried to focus in on the tarps.

And now they were off investigating while Wonwoo and his sister worried sick over them. Wonwoo was doing his best to try and stay focused on their sounds, but it was difficult with them so far away and a lot going on between them. There were too many people and things that were starting to drown them out.

The Jeon siblings thought it was a nice coincidence that they had run into Baekhyun at the market. He said he was just wandering around, trying to find something to do to pass the time because he was bored out of his mind. But they should’ve considered that the older wolf and the young thief would’ve been a match made in Hell. Then again, neither sibling thought Jooyeon would want to suddenly go investigate the black market of all things.

Wonwoo spotted them first, and his head fully whipping around to watch them was what caught Danbi’s attention. The pair were hurrying back toward them, Jooyeon in front even though Baekhyun was definitely faster, but he seemed to be gently pushing her to go faster. The looks on their faces said it all: they saw something they shouldn’t have.

That, or, Danbi and Wonwoo also needed to run.

“We need to get to Junmyeon,” Baekhyun said hurriedly before the pair were even close enough for Danbi to hear them.

But Wonwoo heard and his eyebrows furrowed, “Why, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“I’ll explain later,” the older man gestured with his head for the siblings to follow before he started in the direction of his home. “Let’s go.”

But Jooyeon didn’t catch the conversation and told Danbi and Wonwoo with wide eyes, “There’s people in cages in there. A lot of them.”

“Are they alive?” Wonwoo questioned.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun’s short laugh was dry and void of any humor, “and that’s kinda scaring me more than if they were dead.”

-

A knock at the door. Seungcheol was already dreading it because it was a knock. It wasn’t just somebody coming right in like Jooyeon and the Jeon siblings would if it was them coming home from the market. A knock meant a stranger or it meant the trio got themselves into trouble.

He recognized Junmyeon’s scent, and he probably would’ve sensed his arrival had he not been helping calm Jiwoo down after a meltdown over her toy wooden train getting stuck underneath the couch. He also sensed Jooyeon, and he could sense the siblings as well.

He let out a deep sigh as he swung open the door.

Before Junmyeon could even say anything, the younger alpha’s golden eyes landed on his mate, “What did you do?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Junmyeon chuckled, “Baekhyun did it, too.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Danbi assured him before breezing by him and into the house with her brother following, slightly bowing his head toward his alpha as he went.

“Can we come in?” Junmyeon asked, Dae by his side with you and Baekhyun standing there looking like children in trouble. “This news might be…a lot.”

Seungcheol stood to the side and gestured for the quad to enter, shooting his mate a scolding look as she followed Junmyeon and Daisy into the house. 

“I didn’t even get in trouble!” she huffed. “Why are you mad at me?”

“You were escorted home by Junmyeon. That’s reason enough. That means something happened.”

“Something did happen, yes,” Junmyeon confirmed as they went to sit in the living room.

Of course, hearing the commotion, the rest of the pack began to gather.

“Thankfully, they weren’t spotted or followed,” he continued. 

“The fact that he said that means you did something you weren’t supposed to,” Seungcheol pointed out to his mate.

As Junmyeon took a seat on one of the couches, he let out a sigh. Dae sat down beside him, silently waving to some of the wolves and mates as they entered, still smiling despite what Baekhyun had told their pack when they arrived at his house.

“Jooyeon and Baekhyun may have discovered a human trafficking ring,” Junmyeon stated bluntly.

Everyone was shocked hearing that. It was the last thing they expected to hear, actually. Some let out soft gasps and others began murmuring, wondering what kind of trafficking and how they could’ve found it.

Seungcheol’s eyes widened, threatening to bulge out of his head. Then his widened eyes went to Jooyeon.

“What were you thinking?!” he exclaimed. “How many times have I had to explicitly tell you not to go anywhere near the black market?! Why the hell would you go against me?! Shin Jooyeon, you could’ve been caught and thrown into it!”

Baekhyun held up a hand to get Seungcheol to stop yelling, “To be fair, I wasn’t the best influence. She wanted to go and I said I’d go with her.”

“And what, I’m supposed to tell Baekhyun no?” Wonwoo asked.

“How did you discover this…trafficking ring?” Jihoon wondered.

“I noticed this big tent made out of tarps that wasn’t there before. I got curious,” she shrugged. “So we snuck over and there was a little tear in one of them and Baekhyun peeked through and saw all these people in cages.”

“There was maybe…about six people to a cage? Their clothes looked dirty and they all looked like hell,” Baekhyun elaborated. “I think they’re just barely being kept alive. And they all have collars on.”

“As sad as that is,” Minghao began, “...why did you come here to tell us about it?”

Jeonghan nodded with a shrug, “Respectfully, if it doesn’t have to do with us, we’d rather stay away from trouble. We’ve been in enough of it.”

“Well, that’s kind of exactly why,” Junmyeon chuckled. “I wanted to see if your pack would be willing to help them escape, or if we decide the situation should be left alone. I’d hate to let a bunch of innocent people go through that, but I also don’t know if I’m willing to risk my pack’s lives for something that doesn’t really involve us. Getting caught in the Capitol is even more dangerous than getting caught in any old town.”

“Especially in the black market,” Jihoon added.

“But…” Kyung paused like she knew she would get backlash for what she was about to say, “can we live with ourselves knowing there’s a human trafficking ring going on and we did nothing to stop it?”

“No offense, but didn’t a ton of your old pack die from trying to help people?” Soonyoung asked a little too bluntly, but it was apparent he wasn’t purposefully trying to sound snappy.

Kyung looked at him, “Remind me who helped your pack at your old house and even died for one of your brothers?”

Soonyoung’s cheeks dusted pink as he realized how rude he sounded and he mumbled a, “Right, sorry…”

“Okay, Kyung has a point,” Seungcheol admitted. “Honestly…I’d feel really shitty if we didn’t try to help.”

“I get that, but is it even worth the risk?” Jihoon asked.

“Maybe we go scope it out,” Hansol suggested with a shrug. “See how difficult it would be to execute a giant prison breakout. If it’s too dangerous, we can sleep better at night knowing we wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

Seungcheol looked to the other three alphas. They all looked between each other and shrugged before looking to Junmyeon for his take.

“Sounds alright to me,” he decided. “When should we go?”

“Probably as soon as possible,” Jihoon guessed. “Who knows how long they’ll be kept there, right? They might be getting sold one at a time or maybe somebody already bought them all and they’re there for safe keeping until they can get picked up.”

“So, tonight?” Soonyoung asked.

Seungcheol looked back at Junmyeon, “Tonight?”

“Tonight works,” he nodded. “We’ll meet you there at midnight.”

»»————-　　————-««

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[seedsofagony]

Haganezuka Hotaru A–Z (KnY)

Series: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Characters: Haganezuka Hotaru

Word Count: 1,821

Summary: How does Haganezuka Flirt? What's he like on the Phone? SFW answers from A to Z for @selfloving-shipper's Self Shipping Alphabet: fluff, occasionally suggestive, x reader, modern au, spoiler free

Notes: Forever and unapologetically imagining secondary and tertiary characters ♥ I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible because everyone should be able to enjoy our hot-headed, not-so-little firefly.

Image Credit: Wtrsnvc

A - Activity what’s something they enjoy doing together?

Haganezuka doesn't really like crowds. He'd much rather spend quiet time alone with you where he can take off his figurative mask. He won't talk much (unless you ask him about work), but he'll enjoy just listening to you chatter away or the moment when your head starts to droop and you lean on him to doze.

B - Bashful what’s something one finds embarrassing about themselves but the other finds adorable?

As the poster boy for the socially inept, Haganezuka is embarrassed by pretty much everything you do—which makes teasing him that much more fun. You'll rib him gently in public and mercilessly at home just to bring out that blush in his cheeks, but there's a limit to how much he'll take before he makes you make good on your word.

C - Calm how do they calm the other down?

The man has no chill, so if you're upset, he's upset. Unfortunately, that also means that you're usually the one doing the calming down—which you do by pushing him into bed, straddling him, then tickling the life out of him.

D - Danger how do they react to finding out the other person is in trouble?

If someone is messing with you—your boss, some rando, doesn't matter—Haganezuka isn't afraid to do anything short of murder, and even that isn't off the table. But if it's something like being stranded with a flat tire, he'll come right away, push up his sleeves, bare those burly arms, and get to work changing it for you.

E - Encourage how do they encourage each other?

Haganezuka believes in you—totally, fully, and without reservation—and he shows it through acts of service. Looming deadline? Your coffee cup will never run dry. Big interview? He scouts the parking situation ahead of time so you don't have to sweat the small stuff. He'll also give you space to focus, but know that he'll be just around the corner, ready to get you whatever you need.

F - Flirt do they flirt? If so how do they flirt?

As someone with almost no game, Haganezuka doesn't really know how to flirt. Playful banter is beyond him, and most of his "sweet nothings" are completely serious and intense. But, sometimes, he'll say something that can be construed as EXXXTREMELY suggestive—it's always completely unwitting and he has no idea why you're looking at him like that.

G - Greetings what was their first meeting like?

The first time you met, he couldn't take his eyes off you—which actually means he was staring at you with intense RBF. He doesn't really remember it that way, though. For him, it was as if nobody else even existed. Sound was muffled, the light was diffuse. It was a canon event.

H - Hungry does one of them cook? What do they do for dinner?

Haganezuka's hyperfixation is just way too strong—when he actually remembers to eat, he's a terrible cook and will just eat whatever's lying around. Actually, it's a little-known fact that the phrase "girl dinner" was invented for him.

I - Imagine what do the imagine their futures together like?

For him, your futures are a collection of everyday moments. The way the sun glints off your hair in the morning. The hustle and bustle as you get ready for the day. The soft brightening of your expression when you see him after work. It's all the little things that add up to make a life.

J - Jealousy do they get jealous easily? What do they do when jealous?

Haganezuka trusts you. He would never doubt you. It's just that he has zero faith in the rest of humanity, and he can't stand when other guys so much as look at you. If the clerk at the checkout is a little too cheerful when he says, "Have a nice day," Haganezuka levels him with a devastating glare and gathers up all your bags with one well-muscled arm just to prove a point: Step off or else.

K - Kissing what is it like kissing them?

Despite having no game, Hagaganezuka is actually a natural when it comes to kissing. He tips your chin, looks into your eyes for a moment, then kisses you fully and deeply. The world seems to stop, and nothing and no one else exists. But if you give him a peck on the cheek? Insta-blush.

L - Love when did they realize they were in love?

They say love at first sight doesn't exist, but it does for Haganezuka. He'd barely even been "in like" before he met you, so when he saw you from across the way, he just knew you were the one.

M - Memories what is one of their favorite memories together?

The day he moved in (because there was no way you were moving into his neglected bachelor pad), you hung a windchime together. He steadied you by the waist as you stood on the ladder. He helped you down, and you slipped your arm around him as you admired your work. The chimes rang together softly, and he felt like he was home.

N - Nickname what are some names they like to call the other?

You're the only person in the world who can call him "Hotaru," but even though you've been together forever, he still stumbles over your first name. The only time it rolls off his tongue is when you're alone together between the sheets.

O - Object what’s something they have that reminds them of the other?

Haganezuka doesn't really like distractions at work, so his desk is pretty spartan. But there is one thing that he always keeps in sight—a fuzzy pompom dango keychain that you gave him when you first got together. It's ridiculous. Each dango has a little smiling face. If anyone asks him about it, he'll tell them, in no uncertain terms, that it's none of their damn business, and when they're gone, he'll bop each dango, one by one, and smile.

P - Phone how often do they talk to each other on the phone or other means of communication?

Haganezuka doesn't really like to talk on the phone, so you won't call him unless it's an emergency. He will text you, though—as long as he isn't working. After a long day, he unlocks his phone to 100 unread messages. He leaves most people on read, but he'll always text you back. It might just be 👍 but you know he cares! He's also the king of autocorrect—ducking Kamado.

Q - Quiver what’s something they do that makes the other flustered?

He hardly knows what to do when you take the lead, whether it's flirting or making love. There's some silly, old-fashioned part of him that thinks, as a man, he should always be the one to initiate. Not that he doesn't enjoy it, though. When his flustered blush fades, it's obvious he enjoys it A LOT.

R - Routine what’s something they do together like clockwork?

You could set your watch to Haganezuka's routine. Every morning, he gets up early, works out, and goes to work. The only thing you can't count on is when he'll be home, but even that's predictable. No matter how late he comes home, though, you always take time to wind down together and talk to each other about your days.

S - Selfies do they like taking pictures together? Do they keep pictures of the other?

Haganezuka really hates having his picture taken and will do anything to avoid it. He also feels awkward taking pictures of you, but he will sometimes snap one when you're not looking. His gallery is mostly selfies you sent to him and 8,000 pictures of his works in progress, plus a ton of totally random screencaps that he will never look at again.

T - Touchy do they like PDA? How do they like to cuddle?

Doing anything more than holding hands in public makes him go beet-red. Even getting to that point was a struggle—you had to graduate from walking next to him to holding the cuff of his sleeve before you could finally entwine your fingers with his. Once you got to that point, though, he wasn't about to let go.

U - Unaccustomed what’s something they had to get used to once they got together?

Haganezuka is an awkward guy and everything about you flusters him—your pretty smile, your hair, that cute outfit you're wearing, the scent of your perfume. You drive him crazy, and he can still hardly believe you're his.

V - Vanished what would they do if the other vanished one day?

If you suddenly vanished, Haganezuka wouldn't know how to go on. He would give up everything to look for you, no matter how long it took. But if HE disappeared… you'd know he just lost track of time and was inadvertently pulling an all-nighter at work.

W - Walk where do they like going together?

There's a nearby park that you love to visit—ambling along the limestone paths, pausing to watch the stream tumble beneath the Japanese-style bridge. But most of all, you love strolling through the tunnel of wisteria trees and stealing a kiss under the curtain of their fragrant purple blossoms.

X - X-ray how do they help the other if they’re sick or tired?

Haganezuka will call off work to take care of you. He'll bring you medicine and a cool drink, and press his forehead to yours to check your fever. Then, he'll look at you, earnest as ever, and tell you he heard—and clearly believes—that if you kiss someone who's sick, you can take their cold away… When he inevitably catches what you have, however, he won't take such good care of himself. He'll wear himself out, refusing to take time off, never taking a break—which means, at some point, he'll collapse and you'll finally be able to return the favor by taking care of him.

Y - Yes who would propose? What would the proposal be like?

You know it would hurt his pride too much if you proposed, but he is definitely taking his time. It's not that he doesn't want to get married. It's just that it's MARRIED. Like, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and all that. Just the thought of spending the rest of his life with you—it's almost too much to imagine. When he finally does pop the question, it will be with fierce determination and an adorably bright red blush.

Z - Zzz how do they sleep together?

Haganezuka is the big spoon to your little spoon, and he'll stay that way all night, hugging you protectively against his chest. If you try to get up before him (which almost never happens), you'll have a hard time extricating yourself. Every time you loosen his arms just a little, he tightens his grip, pulling you back to bed in his sleep. At least, you're pretty sure he's still asleep…

[ao3wasntenough]

I want to know what will happen if Sam becomes a Prime. He has a Spark inside him but still looks human. This AU is more interesting to me than bot Sam! In the movie, Sam is not good at socializing and has no confidence in himself. Becoming a Prime means that he can even be on par with Optimus Prime and lead Cybertron, a planet that is not his hometown, to go further. For the Cybertronians, Sam is an organic Prime, which is unheard of. Sam has more to learn and think about, and may doubt whether he is capable of becoming a Prime. Optimus Prime and the All Sparks will help him ^_^

Sam as a prime is like one of those ideas where you can take it in many directions,

I really love when him as a Prime doesn’t completely disappear his “bad” personality traits, I think it’s fun the idea that Everyone who thinks “Optimus Prime” has this standard of what makes him a Prime they then expect onto Sam, and Sam is just not that

Because Optimus having traits other bots and humans dislike and find stubbornly difficult to work with is appealing to me, there’s just more experiences and long history to back up the reason people have to respect Optimus despite them

And it’s nice when the Primes all have different personalities and traits and such,

Sam being a prime who doesn’t disguise his opinions in vauge statments and neutral commentary. He being the prime nobody wants to go to first despite physically being the most vulnerable because he’s difficult to convince to do anything he doesn’t scoff at, because he scoffs at everything. “You work with bad people because good things still need to be done” Sam’s just not going to, no amount of money or good things that could come out of a deal would convince him, because he is a hater and refuses to make things easier. Sam’s mad because it’s hard because he doesn’t want to take the easy way because the easy way means people he hates

And everyone sees that and rightfully says this is the most ineffective way to lead and he’s a bad leader and they may be right sometimes. But Optimus and the Allspark are a little endeared by his stubbornness to not do things he doesn’t fully trust and understand. No rushing into things because there might not be a tomorrow and then regretting it because someone back stabs them or a deal has a loop hole and “if the world ends tomorrow I guess I’ll deal with it tomorrow but today I don’t like these terms and conditions so fuck off” and they wish they had the ability to tell anyone to fuck off for thousands of years

Sam’s humanness gives him a sense of “what will happen will happen” and he gets to choose what happens with himself and nobody will ever threaten that for him or anyone he wants to protect

[bluheaven-adw]

Thank you tumblr for absolutely destroying image quality. Freaking wtf?

Some more Dark Excalibur AU

The Knighting of Steve Palchuk

We all agree that Steve needed a better arc than what RotT gave him. He deserved a chance to be a hero, a path that he started in Wizards before it fizzled out into being the comedic relief. Wizards set everyone up as the better generational mirrors to Camelot. Jim to Arthur, Claire to Morgana, Douxie to Merlin, Toby probably to Galahad, and Steve very obviously to Lancelot. I've said at the start that no one comes out of this AU unscathed, so while Steve gets the heroic redemption, it comes at a cost, one that pulls on that parallel.

RotT in the Dk-E still happens, I'm not letting everyone get their happily ever after at the end of Wizards. But I'll be damned if I end it with Toby and so many others dead, and Jim pushed into a timeline reset. You can thank Steve for that. It's because of Steve that Toby lives. Steve goes with Toby in the Taco truck, and it is Steve that yanks Toby out of the way of the collapsing debris. But Steve becomes pinned himself, resulting in the loss of his arm. An act of selflessness and bravery, valor and sacrifice, that earns him the title of First Knight of the Roundtable of New Camelot. An equal advisor, responsible for not only the protection of Camelot, and those Jim has claimed as his (which is everyone, human, troll, changeling, down to the last gnome), but also finding and training new knights, those who value all life and are willing to fight to protect it, and want to see the worlds of man and magic together in harmony instead of hate and fear.

And so we come to the Knighting of Steve Palchuk. This isn't just pomp and meaningless ceremony, this has true weight and meaning to both Jim and Steve. Jim pulls on Excalibur's magic, his voice resonating with ethereal power, creating a bond of trust and loyalty that goes both ways, only formed if given willingly. Knight to his King, King to Knight, both to the protection of all worlds and their peoples. Jim's eyes light up in tandem with the blade as the power of Excalibur and Nimue courses through him, flames licking along the blade's edge and into Steve. Steve's armor reflecting this bond as the magic burns through him.

And like Lancelot, Steve will get a fully functional prosthetic arm. There will be hardship, adapting to this new reality. But Steve has become a hero. A man of courage... far from his highscool self. A survivor, who will fight with everything he has.

Rise now, Sir Steve, First Knight of the Roundtable and New Camelot.

Closeups below

Notes: some of the descriptive wording around the ceremony itself came from a discussion about Jim using Excalibur for the knighting, and are used with permission of Sakon76, who is a much better writer than I.

Expect more if Steve's story at a later time.

[brucewaynehater101]

I had a rather angst idea for a Good Dad Bruce au. One where he actually loves his kids and Jason never died (they still took Tim in because they found him taking pictures of them on patrol) and everyone is a lot healthier. The family spends time together and while they do squabble, like all families, they don't fight like they do in canon.

Then one day, they get an alert that the cave has been broken into and when they rush to check it out, they find.... Tim? Which shouldn't be possible as Tim is following behind Bruce and was literally at breakfast with everyone else. The new Tim's head snaps up when they enter and he just sighs, "Damn it, I was hoping to avoid you guys. Well, Multiversal Code Lima Omega Sigma Tango. Is that still the code here?" Which is the Bat code for "someone fucked up and sent me through a multiverse portal and now I gotta get home". Before anyone can fully comprehend what's going on with New Tim, he turns back to the Batcomputer, where he's currently pulling up information on Zatanna and Constantine.

Bruce walks over to the computer, worried about this version of his son being lost so far from home and says, "well help you get home. Do you know what world you're from?" And Tim simply raises an eyebrow and says, "oh. Is this one of *those* dimensions? How annoying. You can help by getting me some coffee, keeping Bat Brat and Hood away from me, and I'll be out of your hair soon enough. I won't even be here long enough to make your paranoia to bad if things go right."

All that is. Rather concerning. Especially because none if them have Hood in their names. Of course these Healthy Bats insist on helping New Tim out for as much as he will let them. It can be noted that he only accepts food from Alfred, Steph, and Cass and only drink from them and Dick. Anything Jason, Bruce, or Damian tries to give him is completely ignored, Tim acting like it isn't even there. He also is isn't refusing to interact with Damian and Jason but unlike the others, he won't say anything to them until they say something first.

Eventually Damian snaps and says, "Drake, why are you ignoring myself and Jason?!" Tim simply slowly places the tablet he was typing on down and turns to Damian and Jason who are a little pissed and also worried about Tim and why he's acting the way he is. After a deep breath, Tim says, "simply by observing I can tell that our families are extremely different. For example, both of you get along very well with your Tim. It is not so on my world. I will not go into details for all of our sakes, but both of you have made *multiple* attempts on my life. I don't blame either of you and things have been almost peaceful recently. I don't blame either of them, it's simply instinct for them. But that doesn't erase the fact that someone with each of your faces has nearly killed me at least 5 times *each*. I understand that it wasn't you two who did it, but I would still rather not become complacent around any version of either of you to avoid becoming complacent around them. So just. Stay away from me." Tim then turns back to what he was doing and resumes research on how to get back to his own world.

Jason is shocked and horrified that any version of himself would make any attempt on Tim's life, let alone almost half a dozen! He snarls, "what do you mean it's *instinct* for them? What, is only one person allowed to be in the family at a time or some bullshit?!"

Tim and Jason go back and forth a few times with Tim refusing to explain fully, simply calling it Instincts and everyone calling bullshit on that until Tim snaps, scales spreading across his hands and face as his pupils become slits and a hood flares out of his neck that was previously hidden. In a blink, Tim has become some kind of human animal hybrid as he hisses, "because I'm a Viper, Jason is a Hawk, and Damian is a Mongoose!! They naturally hunt my kind, I don't blame them for not trusting me or attacking me if I don't warn them that I'm there! I don't blame either of them for trying to kill me on sight the first two times each of them met because I'm a Cobra!" Once Tim settles down he pinches the bridge of his nose and deshifts back to fully human as he grumbles, "I apologize. I shouldn't have snapped like that just. Just leave it."

Jason and Damian attacking him on instinct is all a lie. They just don't want to accept Tim into the family and this is an easy way to excuse any murder attempts. If Bruce or Dick catches them, they just lie through their teeth that Thr Pit makes it harder to control the more instinct driven side of them, or its lingering effects from whatever Rouge they got Poisoned by last, or Tim was shifted and didn't warn them when he walked up. Sure it's fine for everyone else in the family, hell in 99% of the world its considered perfectly OK to be shifted at all times, or at least it is for animal hybrids like mice and birds and dogs, but not as much for Spiders, Snakes, and Pathners.

As for what the rest of Snake Tim's family is, Bruce is some kind of Fancy Dog (as was his mother) and when he's Batman he fluffy up and puts temporary dye in his fur to look like a Rottweiler or Doberman, Dick is a Swan who used basically spray on hair dye that Bruce made special for his feathers so people thought he was a Robin Shifter, Jason is a Hawk who's wings got the same treatment, Tim is a King Cobra like his mom but when on patrol he keeps the hood hidden and chews black gum so the inside of his mouth looks black like a Mamba's, and Damian is a Mongoose like Ras and Talia but the public thinks he's a ferret. Steph is either a Possum or a Raccoon and makes jokes about having switched animals with Tim as birth. Cass is a black panther who loves the groom her family.

Shifter AU!!!!!!

I was not expecting that, so I was pleasantly surprised ^^

Snake comparisons for Tim are underutilized and beloved. I'd be down to see way more of them. As for this AU, I'm curious about what seems to be Shifter-ism (not sure if there's a better word for that), their instincts, and how often Jason and Damian get away with attacking Tim. Are they at least doing better now? It seems that Tim is weary of them, that they attacked him even with full control of their actions, but that he doesn't blame them.

Also, is one of Tim's instincts to take naps in sunny spots? Is he slower when he's cold?

For the cover-up that Tim did, it was brilliant. He crafted a perfectly logical reason for why they would attack him (especially for Bats who are presumably unfamiliar with shifter instincts and thus unable to call him out).

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

okay so I can't stop thinking about a nerdy prudes star trek au

Pete: Android, Chief of Science

second “son” and creation of infamous non-federation cyberneticist t'noy karaxis (because come on that just sounds like a Star Trek name) 

t’noy’s first creation (ted) was considered unstable/aggressive by the federation standards and was incredibly dangerous, but when they went to handle the situation both ted and t’noy karaxis had ~mysteriously disappeared~

pete doesn’t know where they went either and he’s always very worried about them showing up again (but also, secretly, really wants at least ted to)

pete was never completely finished because of the disappearance, so he’s faulty, prone to power fluctuations (woah,,,, almost like low blood sugar,,, crazy,,,,)

he’s got an emotion chip, but it’s also faulty, in that it spikes hard into overdrive, and he has a hard time controlling it some of the time

If he’s feeling really upset/worried about something important/embarrassed he’s prone to remove it (especially when he’s younger/before he’s got his established friend-group-crew; they really try to stop him from doing that)

VERY IN LOVE WITH STEPH BUT HE DOES NOT REALLY UNDERSTAND IT AND IT’S STRESSING HIM OUT

started just as a normal science officer but like six people died and now he’s got the position– he’s also really stressed out about that precedent

he loves outer space so bad, they regularly have to reign him in on ground missions or during very dangerous space-issues because he’s just so excited about learning cool new space facts

his room is just books and experiments and a huge window so when everyone else goes to sleep he kind of just Stares out at the stars

he has little cyber-glasses that ‘help him analyze things’ but mostly he wears them because he thinks they look cool

not great with people both for android reasons and for ‘spent the vast majority of his early existence entirely alone and isolated, finishing building himself’ reasons 

Steph: Half-betazoid, Security Officer (She’s….. the brawn……. he’s the brains)

okay first things first I know betazoid's irises that are all black but I've always thought it would be cool if it was their whole eye and this is my au, gene roddenberry, so leave me alone

back to actual au: her dad (human) is a high ranking starfleet officer who nepo-babies her through the academy and onto a starship but he’s incredibly open, both vocally and projecting-his-emotions wise, that he’s doing it to get rid of her

her mom (betazoid) died when she was really little and she was raised across multiple starships/bases by her dad, so she’s entirely cut off from that part of her culture

she’s flying completely blind with her emotion/mind reading abilities and from a very young age has learned how to take advantage of it for her own benefit

it’s basically masking times four hundred because she’s navigating all of her relationships and interactions based on the thoughts of those around her/what they’d like or want from her

she’s constantly subjected to the really gross thoughts of her crewmates and it’s GROSS AND BAD and has really heightened her defenses

especially in her academy days (at the behest of her friends) or when she’s feeling threatened she can and will use her mind reading abilities to be really, really mean but,,,, she doesn’t do it much anymore and does feel very bad about it

she really hates pete at first because he’s the first person she’s never been able to read the mind of and she doesn’t know how to navigate it/it’s way, way too vulnerable for her but it actually ends up making them way closer because it’s the first relationship she’s ever had based fully on trust

never actually gave a shit about star fleet or it’s missions before, she was honestly really annoyed by the academy and her dad all but forcing her to take this position, but it’s… sort of growing on her (don’t tell anyone)

Grace: Human, Medical Officer

human and incredibly proud of that

she’s like…. maybe a little prejudiced about it,,, she certainly doesn’t mean to be,,,, but she’s always the one to deliver that classic star trek ‘I thought this race didn’t have BLANK advancement, humans do this better, etc...’ lines that kicks off an episode to tell you about the new alien race of the episode

both her parents worked with star fleet but never actually made it off of earth (because they didn’t want to) so she’s her family’s equivalent of ‘kind of a rebel’ for wanting to be on a starship

she’s just a really high achiever and is treating it sort of like a mission trip to help other planets

(she also just… really wanted to and thinks it’s cool but she thinks that's kind of selfish so she keeps that a secret) 

doesn’t trust pete and is at least somewhat miffed about him not needing help from medical 

met steph in academy and was really, really, really excited when they got assigned on the same ship (steph was NOT)

huge stickler for rules and regulations and it’s either incredibly helpful or causes all their problems there's no in between

morally against the holodeck and no one is necessarily clear on why

because her parents worked for star fleet on earth she still lived with them during academy so being on the ship is her first time ever being apart from them and it’s causing some sort of crisis (though who know which way said crisis is going to hard pivot) (you hope it’s in a gay way but it’s also grace so it could be in a space murder way,.,., only time will tell)

Ruth: Human, Engineer

human and livid about it

desperately wants to be captain one day, and has dreams of being on the bridge, but it became clear very quickly in the academy that she was too anxious to ‘boldly go’ as far as she’d need to to achieve that :(

she’s very good at engineering but she thinks it’s boring, and she thinks just being a human amongst all these cool aliens is lame, and she kind of is under the impression everyone is judging her for it (they’re not)

don’t let this bitch around an visiting vulcans she will ask them about pon farr

she asks steph about “the phase” IMMEDIATELY (context: the phase is where mature betazoids suddenly become horny forever basically) and was like ‘is that going to happen even though ur only half??’ and steph, who had never heard about it, was HORRIFIED

met richie and pete in academy and thought they were so cool she needed them to be her friends or she’d die

they were both very okay with it 

they’re all buddies :)

she helps pete with any repairs when he gets damaged or something happens- she’s the only one he trusts to do anything other than himself 

(... she also wants to test if he’s actually ‘fully functional’... pete’s said no so far though :/)

spends hours on the holodeck

Richie: Andorian, Communications Officer

he’s not much of a fighter, despite being andorian, and initially wanted to go more into the artistic side of his culture but his fascination with other planets/cultures/people as well as the concept of ‘boldly going’ pushed him into joining starfleet

still draws/creates art in his free time tho

managed to be fluent in like forty different alien languages and the universal translator pisses him off in CONCEPT (even though it’s still incredibly helpful that he doesn’t Need it and is part of why he has his job)

he keeps his room freezing and pete’s the only one willing to hang out with him in it because he can’t get cold :) 

he’s mad he has to wear the red uniform because of his job >:( he’s blue why can’t he wear blue >:(

constantly gets in trouble for wearing increasingly non regulation layers over his uniform

single handedly caused the tribble outbreak on their starship

he’s banned from ground duty anytime they’re on a random planet because he gets over excited and keeps almost dying from getting straight up phaser-set-to-stunned (because he’s not only andorian but he’s a particularly fragile andorian like it doesn’t even need to be a phaser pistol just a normal phaser fucks him up)

also spends hours on the holodeck, often with ruth, and they like to drag pete with them even if he doesn’t really get it

[pilot-boi]

i am currently asking about the angel au, pop off my dude

Okay

So when I say it was reader led, I mean I created a world and a plot and changed my whole blog theme for a whole month. People sent in asks, and I would answer them as if I was the characters in the story. Through this, the audience slowly revealed the plot and the world

I posted art of all the major characters, drawn in the style of as if they are being surveilled by the Facility (the research place) in the case of people on the outside, or as case reports in the case of the test subjects

The basic idea was that the Brother gods had angels that would do their bidding on Remnant and be the go between for them and humanity. (The gods were more ambivalent in this version, but it doesn’t really come up) The angels also sort of act like the Greek gods do, occasionally inter mingling with humanity to create semi-deific offspring

When the gods leave Remnant and take magic with them, it sent a ripple across the world forever altering everyone who lives there. EVERYONE was combined at a fundamental level with animals, gaining many of their physical traits and instincts. MANY more traits than Faunus’ one. For example, Ruby is a wolf hybrid and she has the hindquarters, tail, ears, little snoot, and paw pads/claws on her fingers

The angels also left with the gods, but because they weren’t fully immortal they were sort of banished to another realm. A sort of in between dimension where they can observe but not directly interfere. The audience are actually these angels!

The real problem comes from the humans/angel half breeds

Centuries passed and the bloodlines become more and more diluted. Salem, who was a little girl at the time of the cataclysm, is now an old woman. (She’s a snake hybrid so her lifespan was greatly increased. She’s had to watch everyone she loves die)

Over the centuries she was able to accrue a large amount of wealth and influence, so she starts researching the gods. And when that falls apart, she starts researching the angels. Eventually she finds out that their descendants are still around, although it’s been so long that they haven’t had abilities or wings for centuries

She puts in more money, time, and research and eventually figures out how to identify the people with latent angel DNA. And how to bring their traits to the forefront

Ironwood becomes involved at this point, seeing the program as a good way to create soldiers. Salem is just using him, but he doesn’t really care. Their first test subjects are prisoners on death row, people who if they went missing nobody would care. Hundreds of prisoners die in the Facility from failed transformations. Tyrian is the first one to survive, and the process is perfected with Hazel

(By transformation I mean multiple wings, floating rings of eyes, maws of teeth and eyes, that sort of thing. The gods angels were FULL biblically accurate)

But they have their own opinions. They’re adults. They’re incredibly strong and useful, but Salem needs minds she can mold. So she starts “recruiting” children

Cinder, Roman, Neo, Mercury, and Emerald all less than willingly join their ranks. They’re all children when they’re kidnapped, and it’s been at least fifteen years for most of them by the time the plot actually starts

The final recruit is Jaune Arc, Salem’s own grandson. He’s the perfect candidate, her own family, trusting and with latent angel traits to boot. He vanishes from his home, has his memories wiped (the only one to do so since the others don’t have a home to remember) and joins their ranks

The plot begins when one of Ironwood’s other projects, Project Achilles aka star athlete Pyrrha Nikos, makes friends with Raphael.

Salem can’t call him Jaune in case his memories come back, and the scientists only refer to them all by case number. The other angels and other employees (Pyrrha, Pietro, Penny) call him Jaune

Salem doesn’t like that Raphael is getting close to someone else, because that means he might start thinking for himself. So she has Pyrrha killed. This makes Jaune lose it and have his mind wiped AGAIN, this time of all memories of Pyrrha

And this is the final straw for Pietro Polendina. Penny is caught in the crossfire and grievously injured. And when he’s sent to check on Jaune after he’s wiped, he doesn’t remember Pyrrha. So a break out happens, and Jaune Arc Test Subject Extraordinaire arrives on Ezra Ozpin’s porch

That’s where the plot begins at least. I can’t summarize all of it, and there’s a BUNCH of stuff I missed, but that’s the beginning. If you want to read it, you can either go through the faau tag, or go to the AO3 link below

And I’d love to hear your thoughts :]

[waterfire1848]

For the AU-Ask: Azula joins the Gaang-AU :)

Hello, @subterraneanwatcher! Thanks for the ask!

Azula joins the Gaang during BSS when her coup fails (because it always irked me how the Dai Li just went along with Azula) and she needs a way to escape as does the Gaang. Now that the city is controlled by Long Feng, neither the Gaang, Azula's team nor Iroh and Zuko can remain there, so they're all forced to flee on the most awkward bison ride in history.

The second they hand, Azula is ready to murder Aang. Both because she knows she can't return to her father empty handed and also because she's having a mini version of her breakdown (she's never failed before so failing this great on such a large scale is a blow for her). A fight ensues until the two groups finally agree to a truce for the time being while both of them figure out what to do next.

The Gaang still have to head to the Fire Nation because of the invasion and comet which is when Azula gets an idea. She knows Aang has a good heart and, because of that, he'll take pity on a "down on her luck" princess which means he might accept her if she asks to join their group. Then, when the invasion happens, she, Mai and Ty Lee can just betray the Gaang and they're already be back in the palace. It's a perfect plan. The Gaang doesn't trust them one bit but Aang is more inclined to see the good in them so they let them tag alone until they reach Fire Nation borders.

From BSS to the Fire Nation, it's a looooooooong flight, so you know what that means. Bonding moments! Mai and Toph start talking more and more because they realize that they come from pretty similar backgrounds after Toph makes a remark about her mom (still reeling from the whole fake letter and attempted kidnapping thing) and Mai agrees with her. Ty Lee and Aang bond because both of them would be the people who constantly need to move and stretch their legs so they get to talking on their little walks or when they decide to do a little climbing (Ty Lee teaches Aang a couple moves from her time at the circus). And Azula remains with, who she considers, the three most dangerous people here, minus Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Iroh. Of course, sibling stories begin with Azula and Zuko going back and forth between embarrassing childhood stories which is both hilarious for the other three but also makes it clear that these two siblings did once have a good relationship. And, of course, Azula and Katara training together moments.

By the time they reach the Fire Nation's borders, they're not friends but they certainly are closer than they were before. Everyone is ready to go their separate ways until Ty Lee finds a poster during one of her walks that says she, Mai and Azula are all traitors to the Fire Nation and working with the Avatar. Azula, of course, has a mini panic attack but calms herself down by reminding herself of the plan. Her father will surely forgive her when she brings the Avatar, her traitor brother and uncle right to him, right?

(Just some mini headcanons) - The first member of the Gaang Azula fully trusts is Appa. The first human Azula fully trusts is Sokka because they get into such heated debates but he's also oddly the most comforting person to Azula. Recently joined the Gaang!Azula is exactly like her beach self, a bit self conscious and really awkward but trying her best. Azula does not understand the team being so powerful but hardly using their bending, it's just such a big contrast against Azula's reasoning. Katara is the one who teaches Azula how to do her hair (an old Azutara headcanon of mine but I think it works here). Azula still refuses to share her sweets with the Gaang and this had led to more than one argument between her Aang and Momo.

[starlightshadowsworld]

So I might be making another Bsd AU. I made one oneshot and it's spiraled from there soo... Here we are.

Basically Atsushi is fully aware of his ability.

The Orphanage never let him forget exactly what he is. He knows everything Shibusawa did to him, and what he did to him in return. As well as that it wasn't just Shibusawa after his ability.

Not that Atsushi knows exactly why.

When Atsushi left the Orphanage he wasn't kicked out, he ran off during one of his rampages. He has been living on the streets for quite a while at this point.

But he's not exactly sure how long.

Atsushi still meets Dazai at the river. He still ends up as bait but only because Dazai paid him too. But declines to join the Agency and leaves in the confusion.

Atsushi is still a kind and caring person but he's colder, more calculating. Because he wouldn't have survived this long if he wasn't.

He made deals with other kids at the Orphanage, taking their punishments in exchange for food.

The Headmaster, among other things has drilled into Atsushi. That the only one he can trust is himself. And to Atsushi that means himself and the tiger.

The tiger and Atsushi are quite close, given theyre the only one they've got and the only one either trust.

Atsushi doesn't trust anyone else. And believes the Agency only want him for his ability, just like so many others.

They were searching for the tiger, it's the only evidence he needs.

The Agency do try, because they recognise Atsushi's in a lot of danger. Let's just say no one realised the tiger was a teenager and everyone's suddenly very protective over him.

Especially since the Port Mafia are after him, they try and convince Atsushi to join the Agency for his own safety.

Atsushi doesn't trust anyone wants to keep him safe. Because everyone wants the tiger, not Atsushi himself. All Atsushi has ever known is pain and people using him for their own goals.

He doesn't trust the Agency.

And he's especially wary about their abilities, given he's never seen another ability before. Especially Dazai's nullification and weirdly enough also the Presidents ability.

Because it will let him control the tiger, and Atsushi refuses to let anyone control or contain him ever again.

The Agency are determined to look out for him.

They recognise that first they need to earn Atsushi's trust, and show him they see him as human and not a tool.

They've all been lost and just want to help him be safe.

And if Dazai looks at Atsushi and recognises a certain red haired teenager now years older... that's his business.

Does Dazai want to create a new Double Black with Atsushi and Akutugawa? Yes. But he realises it'll only push Atsushi away.

He wants to do right by him, not just because of Odasaku or because he might remind him of the past.

But because he's on the side that saves lives, and all Dazai sees is a kid that desperately wants to live.

So that's what he'll get.

Welcome to, The Wary Weretiger