#I love Eclipse I love writing him and I love him being a menace of a younger sibling

[lavenoon]

Luce. Luce. Luce.

Your Eclipse is precious beyond compare and I love him so much

Ahhh, ok, ok, just the start of the chapter makes me really soft, because we as the readers now Robin's high anxiety from witnessing it across the chapters, but it occurs to me that Sun and Moon have only really gotten to see it when it was pretty bad until recently, now that they are a thing.

But now it's easier for them to see the true anxiousness manifesting itself on something not life threatening or ground shaking as was the reveal. So Sun trying to be reassuring even if a little amused that they would be so nervous about meeting Eclipse (because he knows him) just makes me melt a little.

And kfjdhkgjh of course Eclipse was scheming since before they arrived XD In a way being so much taller would probably make him a tad more intimidating than expected haha, but I can only imagine the whiplash between the yanking, the suspicious locking of the door, and then the very serious business tone of asking help with a prank kfjhdgjfhd

(Sidenote: Sun being all worried because of y/n clearly was so nervous and Eclipse just pulling something unexpected when he was probably planning a more mellow introduction IS pretty sweet, and the fact that he calmed down when he heard them laughing haha)

oh, did I detect some hint of that brotherly tension that first moment when Sun entered the room? A mood that Robin understandably would miss because really XD Though I feel that them calling Sun out on forgetting the key lightened the mood immediately from whatever tension that might had appeared.

Ahhh, it must have been very interesting for Eclipse to see that dynamic between Sun and y/n! It's always been them and outsiders that they would mostly be polite to, so seeing how they interact with this obviously important person in their lives must have him very curious, because until now he has only had what they told him about Robin.

Hehe, the "don't enable each other too much" X3 Sun really did know how well they would get along huh? Similar chaotic energies

The whole duck deal had me cackling

Just y/n so eager to get in on it, happy with the relief, and promising to continue the prank even at home XD New bestie unlocked kdfjghsñk

Ahhh, but definitely what got to me the most was them admitting that they were so unsure about the meeting. Eclipse asking if he's too much (something that he must have heard before and that Robin has definitely heard before, especially at their job, and can relate to) just had me griping my heart for this boy. And then after y/n reassures him that they were afraid of not being nearly enough in his eyes, and Eclipse probably had so much that he wanted to say about his own worries, but rather than doing that and going a mile a minute it's much more straightforward to just show them, and just the fact that he researched what they would need for traveling, even though that would mostly fall on his brothers to handle, and then what "normal" people would do in this occassion?

AND the fact that the online advice must not have included anything of what he did do, which means he ended choosing that genuine approach instead of just following what might have been the "safe" route! Just auuugh, he's so cute, but also so genuine and I'm so glad he chose to be himself so that Robin could see him as he is. There's been enough not saying stuff in their life, so this upfront approach was definitely what they all needed.

I enjoyed this chapter, so so much, Luce! I can see those two walking away from that visit very happy that they met the other!

Very chef kiss! Great chapter as always! ^_^

Ah yes, time to dig in!

And yeah, it was fun to explore this new dynamic post confession (and already more than a few dates in, but just saying post confession is easier)! We had a couple heart to hearts post reveal, but all of those worries and anxieties were between the three of them, and mostly they understood/ related because of either matching or similar anxieties.

This is something where Sun and Moon know there's nothing to fear, so while they still sympathize and want Y/N to feel reassured, they can't help but think it's a bit funny. Even Y/N realizes it's ridiculous, but they also can't help the feeling! So we get some soft smiles and reassurance, and it doesn't fix everything, but they still feel better!

Y/N: Oh god what if he hates me Eclipse: God I hope I have a moment to talk to them in private before everything for the ultimate duck prank

Sun at least is pretty sure Eclipse's place hasn't been compromised, so it's not too serious of an issue - but he just hears a squeak, turns to find no beloved partner and a locked door, still has to grab the bags first because neither would want someone else to call the elevator and perhaps rifling through them, and then he just hears quiet murmuring as he tries to get the door open. The plan was the proper thing - introduce them to each other, exchange a few pleasantries, and carry on with the evening. The yanking changed those up a little, but at least the laughter reassures him that Y/N isn't currently breaking down or clamming up, and grants him enough awareness to remember that he owns a key to the door in his way.

There is some tension - but it's a bit of a mixed bag. Sun and Moon have already started being more open with Eclipse, and have been in steady contact for a couple months now. Four, five months, maybe a bit more. So there's mostly the old sting of "Eclipse forgot, because we haven't visited him in so long" and also "I forgot, too, because we haven't visited him in so long." Y/N picks up on that hint of embarrassment, and calls him out on it, which ends up being the ideal direction to take this conversation. It dodges the "but why did we forget" line of thinking, and focuses on the fun of it all

Eclipse was very much aware of how biased his brothers are, and what sort of soft spot they have for Y/N. Otherwise he wouldn't have planned the prank like that - but seeing Y/N too, seeing that dynamic in action, that's different. He hasn't seen his brothers in so long, and he not only gets to meet them and dodge the awkwardness they used to have thanks to the new person in the mix, but also realizes they are (part of/ indirectly) the reason his brothers changed so much. There's who motivated Sun and Moon to reach out more, and it's very easy to say how they managed to do that.

Sun, eternally suffering, drags out the bag grabbing just so the switch happens and it's Moon who has to deal with it. Moon meanwhile doesn't even need a lot of context - just a "... Eclipse grabbed our love for some private talking" and Moon already knows that something is coming. Doesn't know what, but something.

And the ducks yeah! I'm not a prank person, I went through soo many lists of pranks but some were either something Eclipse wouldn't need help with and it would be hard to find even a suitable pretense, or something food related which obviously wouldn't work, or just straight up mean. But I remembered the plastic babies around school post, and a couple similar pranks, so I went with that! and thus the duck theme for the chapter was born fhjds

Y/N of course is a menace and already thinking of leaving little ducks in Sun and Moon's work office, too. Moon starts hiding them back at some point, while Sun just collects them all and tries to hide them where Y/N can't find. They always do <3

And yeah, the bit of genuine heart to heart! It was still very very necessary to address, and Eclipse felt safer asking them in a private moment. Something Y/N does get - Sun and Moon would immediately reassure them both, but it's not the same! They need to hear it from the person they're worried about! They both try very hard, because Sun and Moon are so important to them both, and thus they want to impress the other.

Eclipse in particular knows that while he means well, he often just. Doesn't leave a good impression. People think he's too direct, or too oblivious, think he's childish for it, all while being seen as too much. He tries to prepare as well as he can - he wants to prepare everything to be as comfortable as possible, he makes sure there's all sorts of things that Y/N may not have thought to bring because they may not need them, and he wants to have a few back up plans in case he has no idea what to say.

And the thing is. He doesn't disregard any of it! Those plans are still there, he still has read them all! But he thought to prank his brothers, and then realized how much funnier it would be if he enlisted Y/N's help, and without even thinking that this is exactly what he thinks other people might interpret as "too much", he decides to do that! And then has to realize that "Y/N who is nervous to meet me" and "Y/N the potential prank accomplice" are in fact one and the same person. He can't help being genuine, he's not used to masking (good for him!) and it's a constant effort to remember to try, and he slips!

Y/N knows a bit about him from Sun and Moon, and they had their own issues with not being accepted for who they are, even if their crumbs of neurodivergency are different from Eclipse's. They get it, and they definitely get the anxiety of not measuring up to expectations, so it's easy to reassure him. They don't even need to say it, neither of them - they just admit to their own anxieties, and realize that it was a mutual fear, and that's already instant reassurance. Because if they're the same in the anxiety department, they're also the same in the "after the anxiety, I'm so looking forward to knowing this person" department.

Y/N in particular had a whole year of secrecy and not being able to just say things directly, and has very much enough of that. They know the effects it can have, and while being open is still new, they try, and it's perfect timing because that what works best for Eclipse, too.

It was a lot of fun to write this, and have them officially meet - we had the tease of it coming up in "As The Crow Flies (They Stall)", but I read through early Eclipse lore again and just. had to write the actual meeting, so I'm very happy it's fun for everyone!

[naffeclipse]

UWA!! OMG MERMEY DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE?!?! I SCREAMED?!?? such a great read omg I love the immediate tension made in the first half and throwing us right into the thick of it

AND OO?? i gasped when i realised it was eclipse that caught us first this time!! and him quickly taking his little witch back to their home. AHH i missed the kitties!! that morning scene went from endearing to Eclipse being a little suave menace hehe. I love how this and the first chapter of dt&t are very much paralleled but we get to see how different all 3 are when it comes to personality and reactions!!

ough cant say i feel bad for the little fish at the end but i definitely was not expecting that oop a little treat for some fellow demons it seems tehe BUT AHH such a great read Naff!! sending much love and kudos your way 🤲🤍✨🐟

AH, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I really loved writing it so I'm glad it's making its mark! <3 Mermay is a good twist on anything but I wanted to explore this split path with Demon Eclipse hehe

Sun and Moon are just enjoying the snack you sent out to them! That's why you did that, right? :)

[demvalhaken]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!! Just some super cool arts

If I EVER had the patience to write and draw the Catecis comic, it’d look like this

This is just a grasshopper sailor out on the Waspian port

I was thinking about naming him Sir. Irian like the Iris flower. The thing is I have to differentiate him from Iris, a male monarch Butterfly across the entire world. Or Sir. Astroway as his last name is Astroway due to his sailor family using stars as a way to travel.

About my long break: Look guys, I haven’t been doing well mentally. I am in a depressive state, I am sleep deprived, I am done with life. To draw so much and pour your time and skill into an artwork only for a few likes can be frustrating. I don’t post my art for fame or love, I do it to share my ocs and ideas, I don’t want the masses to flock, I just want recognition for my work. I didn’t really mean to take a break, I get distracted very easily and forget to post. I wish I could post more but art takes time, I have to develop ideas and passion due to my constant art block and burnout. The only good thing in my life is just being alive. There is a large scar on my neck because I gave myself a friction burn with my lanyard at school due to anxiety :( I have mental problems, whatever I have, it isn’t good and will probably slowly deteriorate me to a depressive glob of my former self, but I will never get diagnosed. My family is constantly angry at me for no reason, I get that my clean obsessed behaviour can get annoying especially when I panic and get water everywhere, but I hate to be yelled at for something that I cannot control or fix. They say I am overreacting and will got over it, but I’ve tried, there is no fixing this. That’s why I’ll probably never ever get a diagnosis or therapy session. I lied, I am actually not as okay as I say I am. If I ever don’t post for a period time, please know that it’s either from lack of art or mental issues. I am sorry for not posting in awhile as my usual breaks take a time of 3 days or 2. I am deeply sorry.

Bevel, Snow, and Berry.

I drew these in my math book, very classic place to doodle, I know. There’s not a lot of doodles in my book though, I am usually trying to do equations and get an 100 on my test

I finally got a haircut, though my hair is now a short messy thing, I feel quite confident even if I don’t fully look masculine. My arm hair should be quite an indicator and the trans pin inside my backpack, haha! That pin was made by a friend of mine, don’t worry he’s very fruity and slay. Idk if it’s just my senses but my hairdresser was definitely an ally, he slayed, my hair is hairing. Also I have giant eyebags and a cowlick, like I literally have Dem’s cowlick.

Here’s some more little oc ideas. Eclipse is my first transfem oc, I know I know I’m slaying. She’s has a twin sister, Luna! Yes, Eclipse and Luna are Hornet twins, from the same egg btw. I still don’t know how it works, I’m too tired to research though. Arctic and Viper are a married couple, I like to think Arctic is just a lesbian and her/his wife is a crazy queen with schizophrenia who totally didn’t kill her family. They’re both from Bloodlust’s time period, though a little older.

I don’t want to talk about it… This is really gross but because Snow’s family wanted to keep the bloodline “pure” she’s SHORT and albino but like literally no one else in her family is albino… poor Snow… GUYS DONT MARRY YOUR SIBLINGS AND COUSINS… Bevel transmasc headcannon, I’m not making it cannon yet because Bevel is a lesbian.

Layze, Funkyfrogbait, and Bevel with one tooth

@purpledemonss asked for this minus Bevel, that was my idea

OKAY I LOVE YOU GUYS SM, EAT THIS UP, STAY A MENACE TO SOCIETY JUST DONT EAT LEATHER UNLESS YOU ARE DEATHLY STARVED

[astriar]

Would you like to ramble about your DCA headcanons to us, the audience ?

!! My first ask! Thank you so much! And DUHHH OF COURSE I love talking about the sillies!!!

okay so I have a lot of headcanons that stem from me either willfully ignoring canon or misunderstanding it, but hey fnaf lore is my kinetic sand and I am a child of the early 2000s so let’s go:

—Sun and Moon were good at their job before the virus infected them! I know this is now somewhat backed up by Ruin, with Cassie saying that she always had a good time in the daycare, but I feel like it’s nice to mention!

—Sun was as overwhelming as he was in SB because he was infected with the Virus along with Moon! Normally, he acts a lot more like you would expect a childcare animatronic to act like (again, somewhat backed up by HW2 as Sun speaks a lot more calmly! My little asshole <33)

—On the train of thought as above, here is my own personal interpretation of events that led up to SB: Moon was the first in the Pizzaplex to be infected, and after he realized as such, he blocked himself entirely out of the system and put firewalls up to hell and back, cutting off his communication with Sun!

—Sun started going a little crazy with the stress of keeping up the daycare entirely by himself, and didn’t notice the virus had infected him too until too late! (Basically right before the events of security breach)

—Moon would listen to and enjoy old Panic at the Disco if he had access to non fazbear-approved music

—…night shift employees also happen to find their devices go missing on occasion, only to be returned with some interesting Spotify history

—a lot of people I feel like think Sun would listen to soft indie stuff but I think he would either listen to hard rock or the most deplorable, insufferable hyper-pop on the damn market

—Moon and the DJ are besties!

—Sun can’t leave the daycare, but Chica will come and visit him every once in awhile! Sun gives her his latest knitting project, and Chica usually delivers gossip from across the Pizzaplex Moon happened to miss.

—The rest of the band members steer clear of the daycare, except for Freddy every one in awhile. And Bonnie, of course— Moon was friends with Bonnie.

—Also, non-virus infected Moon is a menace who is generally rude and disrespectful to Pizzaplex employees (smh moon) UNLESS you give him a reason to not be rude and disrespectful

—he operates on an guilty until proven innocent basis and Sun is absolutely the same way with Pizzaplex employees

—Moon is the more public menace, but everyone really should be afraid of Sun, who 100% has less morals

—I don’t even know what to make of canon Eclipse but I love them!! And I genuinely wonder if Sun and Moon were ever rebooted into safe mode before Ruin? If so, what kind of role did Eclipse play?

-I also don’t know what to make of Moon’s apparent lore relevance in HW2, and this may be denial speaking, but I feel like maybe Moon wasn’t infected during HW2? Maybe he’s just being his normal, menace-y self? That’s what I think at least but that’s just a theory (a GAME THEORY)

-Jack-O-Moon :D <3

….kay this feels like way too many words BUT I appreciate the chance to ramble!! I definitely try and keep their personalities based in canon (especially in my writing) but I also love everyone who hc’s them heavily!! The fandom is what makes liking these two so enjoyable, so I love seeing any and all takes :D

I sincerely apologize if the formatting is weird (mobile baybee) but! Thank you very much for asking :D

[chocolix76]

I dunno if this post is still relevant but if it is, I’m kinda interested in seeing some (non canon ofc) interactions of lord eclipse and lunar in your au? I’m very curious in their dynamic and I enjoy seeing the bean suffer. If not that’s cool too

Your wish is my command. I'll admit I had a great time writing this. Also, sorry it took so long-

Word count: 1,393

The distant sound of the sharp clicking of heels against the marble floors sent Lunar sprinting down the seemingly never ending hallway to his room, throwing himself through the open door and closing it behind him. That particular pattern in the footsteps didn’t match those of Sun who normally took very slow and cautious steps as if placing his foot in the wrong spot would cause him to be punished. These footsteps were quick and purposeful and held the air of arrogance that belong to the person behind them. That was not a person Lunar wanted to run into if he could help it.

Lunar pressed his body against the rotting wooden door to his room, surprised that his weight didn’t make it cave in. His room smelled moldy and vaguely of something rotting, spiders climbing up the walls and building elaborate webs that Lunar’s face often got caught in, but anything was better than being stuck out in the hallway with Eclipse. Tilting his gaze up towards the omnipresent floating eye that always followed directly behind him, Lunar darted across the room and grabbed a chair from his desk, wedging it underneath the doorknob. The eye had gone from its usual menacing orange to a malevolent black, the white pupil widening to a size of a dinner plate. Eclipse was watching.

The door creaked dangerously on its hinges, the chair struggling to hold itself in place as Eclipse rattled the doorknob. He could have easily broken the door down, but Lunar knew he wouldn’t do that so soon. A few terrifying moments passed where Eclipse kept jostling the door as Lunar curled into a ball in the corner of the room knowing that he wouldn’t be safe no matter where he hid. The sounds of Eclipse’s malevolent laughter cut through the thin wooden door like butter, seeming to echo through the room and chill Lunar all the way to his endoskeleton.

“Why don’t you make this easier on yourself and open the door, Lunar?” Eclipse said coolly, giving one last twist of the doorknob. “I think we both know that you’re long overdue for giving me some…entertainment, considering the little stunt you pulled last week. Wouldn’t want to make this harder on yourself now, would you?”

Trembling at Eclipse’s words, the chilling tone of his voice seeming to bring down the temperature of the room by a few degrees, Lunar reluctantly removed the chair from beneath the doorknob and opened the door, forcing himself to look up into Eclipse’s eyes. The piercing orange eyes narrowed at him, a wide toothy grin stretching across Eclipse’s face as he stared down at his victim, mentally going over what he could possibly have Lunar do that day. 

Wordlessly, Eclipse looped his arm around Lunar’s and led him down the hallway. Such a gesture could have been considered almost sweet if it weren’t Eclipse who was performing the action. Eclipse’s claw-like fingers dug into the plating on Lunar’s forearms which had begun to indent in that area after repeated warning scratches when Lunar tried to wiggle away. As they made their way down the hall to the dreaded spiral staircase, Eclipse hummed to himself, the melody rolling off his voicebox like honey. So many actions that would have been considered brotherly love if they were performed by anyone else but Lord Eclipse.

As much as Lunar wanted to pull away and sprint down the staircase and into the relative safety of the library where Sun resided, Lunar kept marching forward knowing from experience that any deviation in what Eclipse wanted only made things worse later on. When they reached the top of the staircase, Eclipse’s humming paused only for a moment when they passed a closed door that had Lunar’s face painted on it with light blue paint that appeared as if it had been drawn by a claw rather than a finger. Lunar turned his head away, not wanting to remember the existence of that room as long as he could avoid it. However, with what was bound to happen in the next few minutes, Lunar would be going in there soon enough.

“What do you have in mind for today, Lord Eclipse?” Lunar squeaked as Eclipse roughly shoved him into an almost dungeon-like room. The room was built in a precarious arch shape, the stones above their heads holding together by nothing but the power of the star. There wasn’t a single window in that room, nor a light to go by besides the singular torch that hung at the far end of the wall. 

Eclipse paused at the question, the grin on his face only growing larger and exposing more razor sharp teeth. “I’m not feeling quite so bored today, so I think some simple entertainment will do. You know, it pains me that you don’t like to come up here. I always think we have so much fun together.”

Knowing what would happen next and yet having no clue what Eclipse would choose to do, Lunar backed up against the dungeon wall, holding his hands over his face to protect himself from the slap that almost always came first. He held himself in that pose for what felt like hours, expecting pain that never arrived. Hesitantly moving his hands away from his face and risking a glance up at Eclipse, Lunar was seized by the neck and lifted into the air, his feet dangling nearly a foot off the stone floor below. 

“L-Lord Eclipse, please let me go!” Lunar begged, kicking his legs back and forth but failing to make contact with any part of Eclipse’s body. He could feel the mechanical parts in his neck shifting over each other and hear dull cracks and pops beneath Eclipse’s fingers as his grip tightened, causing a white hot agony to wash over Lunar. “I-It won’t happen again, I-I promise!”

“Sure it won’t,” Eclipse said with a sickly sweet tone, moving his clawed fingers so that more mechanic parts scrapped over each other, causing an agonized scream from Lunar. “Regardless of whether you’ll behave from here on out, I think you’ve had enough fun. I believe it’s my turn to have some entertainment.”

Just as Lunar was about to let out another plea for his life, Eclipse tossed him across the room, Lunar’s back slamming into the stone wall behind him with an echoing crack and crumpling to the floor with only a small whimper of pain. Oil oozed out of the cracked and shattered parts of Lunar’s plating as he slowly brought himself to his knees, pressing his hands together in an almost prayerful motion as he glanced up at Eclipse. He desperately tried to ignore how pure agony ran through his systems and made it nearly impossible to think clearly or how Eclipse smiled in a way that confirmed Lunar’s current fear. He wouldn’t make it out alive, but Eclipse still wanted him to believe that there was hope even for a moment.

Lunar opened his mouth and closed it a few times, gaping for words that refused to come to him. Oily tears ran down his faceplate and dripped onto the floor where they mingled with the oil that was still streaming freely from his wounds. With a smile that bordered on sympathetic, Eclipse knelt down next to Lunar and gently placed a hand underneath his chin, tilting his head up the slightest bit to meet his eyes. As much as Lunar wanted to believe that Eclipse had changed his mind, it was all tricks. A ploy to make him feel a sliver of hope in his final moments. However, death wasn’t final for Lunar, even though he often felt like staying dead would be a mercy.

“Goodnight my sweet Lunar,” Eclipse taunted before removing his hand from underneath Lunar’s chin and kicking him in the face with as much force as he could muster. 

Lunar’s faceplate exploded outward on impact, oil, wiring, and mechanical parts spraying across the room as his body slumped forward lifelessly onto the cool stone floor. With a sharp tutting sound, Eclipse wiped some of the oil off his robe and faceplate before ringing a bell to summon Sun into the room. Within a few minutes, the mess would be cleaned and Lunar would be wandering around the palace again as if nothing had ever happened. 

[lifezvictory]

Okay, so today’s (technically yesterday’s since I’m writing this post at midnight but I don’t really consider it to be the next day until I either go to sleep, or the sun comes up, whatever comes first) episode of SaMS was very emotional, to say the least. Normally I don’t write posts about those because my possibly neurodivergent brain (haven’t been officially diagnosed but I’m almost certain it’s true) doesn’t really know how to formulate coherent, smoothly flowing pros about hyper-emotional stuff, especially when I’ve recently been exposed to it. But, I have some thoughts that I have to share, so I’m releasing them into the chaotic bowels of Tumblr. (These thoughts, of course, contain spoilers for the latest episode so only click read more if you’ve seen it or are willing to be spoiled.)

So, I have a feeling that Eclipse is really, truly dead this time. And when I first got acquainted with this orange menace, I would’ve been extátic at this. I was the first time he “died.” But now? I’ve actually got mixed feelings.

On one hand, Eclipse really was a terrible person and he kind of deserved what he got. But on the other? I’m a little disappointed with the writers’ decision. Because, it felt like they had been leading up to a redemption ark for Eclipse. All this talk about him having nobody and no purpose, I just felt like it could have been leading up to something bigger. And even though I used to hate Eclipse with a burning passion, I have read two amazing fanfics that did an ark for him insanely well, and I would have loved to see the original creators of this character’s take on it. Although, there was a part of me that thought it might not go that direction because in one q & a, someone asked if Eclipse could be redeemable, to which Sun and Moon understandably denied and I thought could possibly be the opinion of the creators themselves, and not just Sun and Moon’s.

The little scene near the end of the video, with Eclipse and Solar Flare in the mindscape right before their death really got to me, especially with Eclipse’s reaction. He was genuinely terrified unlike his first version’s death, and I’m pretty sure the guy went through the five stages of grief in those thirty seconds or so. It resonated with me because it humanizes (animatronicizes?) Eclipse, showing that he fears death as much as anybody else, but it’s also relatable to me, personally, because I have quite a bit of anxiety surrounding my own death.

One thing, or rather one person that i feel like people aren’t focusing enough on however, is Solar Flare. I know many people didn’t care about them much (The Blue Guy, in his video talking about SaMS lore said that they’re basically just Eclipse’s minion which fair) but they always held a special place in my mind. I felt like there was so much possibility for their character, especially the way the lore episodes were going. They were just developing, or at least appearing to develop, sentience and a personality/identity of their own, only to be killed off along with Eclipse when they hadn’t really done anything wrong. They were only following their programming to serve Killcode when he was evil, and actually seemed to be forming into a decent person before their demise. Only for all that potential to just be wiped away in an instant, with not many people taking notice, in universe or out. Eclipse was the only person who got to know the true them, if only slightly, and he never even appreciated them or treated them well. Hell, I don’t think Solar Flare even got a single positive interaction with anyone in their entire short existence. Yet they still somehow managed to remain so well-intentioned and wise? (I have to continue writing my Solar Flare-centric fic in their memory)

In real life, death is just like that. It cuts lives short, removing vibrant beings with lots of potential (I have no clue what happens after death but I’d like to think of it as a permanent absence and not an absolute destruction for the sake of my sanity.) But, this is fiction. And there’s a point where I’d just rather not have fiction be quite this realistic and devastating, you know?

The fact that Solar Flare was so accepting of their death made it even more heartbreaking for me, personally. They were completely accepting of it, and didn’t seem afraid at all (although it could be because they weren’t yet emotionally developed enough to express it.) This, to me, meant that they had nothing left to live for, and felt as though they no longer had a purpose. And for me who, as you would know if you’ve been reading my posts for a while, likes Solar Flare quite a lot, it devastated me. I want to give Solar Flare a big hug.

I’m not sure how to end this post. But, that’s my thoughts on the latest lore. I think this was probably the longest post I’ve made to date.

[beth-march]

meet me in the afterglow (protective fez fic)

Tagging @scytheterranova and @fixation4fexi who also mentioned wanting the Protective Fez fic

Summary:

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” her father says. “I’m just gonna need you to call your boyfriend, and give me the phone, so I can talk to him for a minute. That’s it. Then we can get you out of here, okay?”

Or, Lexi gets hurt. Badly hurt. And Fez completely loses it.

A/N:

So the first chapter of Protective Fez fic is finally here! Thank you for all of the interest in me writing it. I’m a bit nervous to post this, because this is so different to anything I’m used to writing, with all of the drama and action, so please tread carefully, if violence is something that worries you (though it’s no worse than anything that happens in canon). Also, I feel a need to disclaim that I am fully aware of how absurd this is, please just enjoy the soap opera fantasy and don’t shun me for writing something so ridiculous. In my defence, you did all ask for it!

Read on Ao3 here or under the cut:

When Lexi was little, even littler than she is now, she had a recurring nightmare. 

It spurred unknown fear. Something that eclipsed what she knew of the world. It swallowed her in sleep, tore her awake and made menaces out of the shapes in the darkness. Cassie would crawl out of bed for the light switch, flood the room with warmth, untwisting the monstrosity, making it mundane.

But it would not be enough to soothe her. Mere light could not balm. Distraught as these dreams made her, Lexi needed her parents. More often than not, it was her father who came to the rescue. Her mother was far too heavy a sleeper to stir.

“Tell me what happened,” Gus would say, brushing curls off her flushed face.

Young as she was, Lexi lacked the words to describe her torment. A teenage Lexi might have spoken about suffocation. Dirt in the lungs, a pit she’s swallowed by, or entanglement in vines, a deathly cocoon of barbed branches. A loss of control, of company; complete helplessness, complete isolation. 

Instead, she would cling to her father’s wrists, as if she already knew about him leaving, and whisper, “I’m being squeezed, and I can’t breathe. My throat is like a lemon.”

The taste of it has always been the part that bothers her most. How lemon blossoms in the pit of her throat, staining her mouth with something acidic and fluttery.

Of course, it is the taste that lingers. Beyond the nightmare, which she had for the last time just before she started middle school. But whenever she is scared, she still tastes lemons. The bitter salt of fear, that she comes to know as anxiety.

It flickers without preamble, the day she sees him again. In sunlight, this time.

Gus Howard lurks on the corner of the street, obscured by bushes. He hasn’t made it all of the way into the house. When Lexi passes by, on her way home from school, he lurches out of his hiding spot, and seizes hold of her wrist. She has been wheeling her bike, and it clatters to the ground between them. 

Startled, she screams, and he catches the sound in his hands.

“Shh,” Gus says, breaking a two year silence.

Lexi is amazed that he is touching her. She is too used to the movies, where ghosts try to interact with people from the mortal realm and have their hands pass right through the skin. Utterly transparent.

Unlike Gus, with the grimy skin, the grey sheen of sweat. His fingernails are filthy. He bombards her senses with grit, and Lexi recoils on instinct, her eyes enormous.

“Dad?” she manages, just barely.

He smiles, and the shape is distorted. It reminds her of a funhouse mirror. Something that has been hooked at the edges, sprawled too big, too blurry. Lexi is reminded of a very different man, clean shaven, buttoned up, lifting her beneath her arms and pointing at the mirror’s wobbly depictions of them. Saying something about a change in the wind, permanent disfiguration, and how he’ll love her anyway. 

How he’ll always love her.

“Lexi, baby. You’ve gotten so big,” her father whispers.

But Lexi has never felt so small. And fear has never tasted so sour.

-

The phenomenon is familiar. She has come across it in her studies, before - the biological imperative mammals have to please their parents. Gaining their approval is the equivalent of securing safety in the tribe.

Maybe this is why Lexi complies, when Gus leads her down the street and towards his tattered, dusty car, with the side mirror on the driver side upheld by duct tape.

Maybe it is because he yanks her there, his fingers jittering where they ensnare her elbow, but so firm she can feel her skin going pink with the sting.

Maybe it is because she is so shell shocked that she cannot hear her own thoughts.

All she can hear is blood pounding in her ears, and the sound of her father breathing. 

He is breathing. He is alive, and it is a relief that he is, because Lexi has wondered about him falling into a ditch, and wondered about him dying in a pool of his own vomit. She has wondered about his junkie associates holding a funeral - if junkies even did such a thing - and wondered about what she might be doing that day, instead of mourning her dad. Studying? Reading? Mediating a fight between Cassie and her mother? Loitering in Fezco’s house, Fezco’s store, laughing by his side, snuggling in his arms?

These are the options that seem most likely. But she supposes she will never know when he dies. This catchup does not strike her as a beginning of any kind. There is nothing fatherly in the way he regards her, not since that initial smile. He won’t even look at her.

“Where are you taking me?” she hears herself asking. 

Her voice trembles, sounds windswept. Like it’s taking place somewhere very distant, across time and space. It crackles in her ears, unreal. Maybe she didn’t say it after all.

If she did, Gus doesn’t answer. He just shudders, and keeps driving. He drives until the houses change, suburbia shrinking into tiny flats, abandoned buildings, the part of town Fez always tells her not to pass through under any circumstances.

The house they park in front of is in total disarray. Paint peels off the walls, and graffiti adorns the front door. A tangle of yellow grass brackets the wire fence. It grazes Lexi’s bare ankles on the way down the concrete path, and already, she can see discarded needles, broken bottles, slipping from the cracks of the front door.

“Is this a fucking drug house?” she finds her voice, and it comes out fiercely, even though she is petrified. She commands his gaze, but he doesn’t relent. She slips her arm from his hand, but it makes for less than a second of freedom.

He looks frail, but he isn’t. He reclaims her wrist, holds it so tightly she cries out.

“Dad,” she whimpers. “Please.”

“You don’t have to worry, okay?” Gus insists, but his voice is wobbly, too.

Her dad is a terrible liar. He manoeuvres her into the house, and it looks even worse than the front yard. Rubbish covers every surface, scattering the coffee tables, the mouldy sofas, the picnic chairs. The smell is so putrid that it takes her off guard. She swears she can smell urine, and the thought of it makes her want to gag. 

She probably would, if she wasn’t frozen. If she weren’t in a room with two heroin addicts, one of whom has no reason to want to keep her safe, at all.

It is as though the other man is faceless. She cannot discern his greasy, spotted features, his bleak, empty eyes. She cannot imagine that this is a person who was brought into the world, held by a mother. She cannot fathom what his life has looked like.

“I thought you said your daughter was blonde,” the man says.

“My eldest is blonde,” Gus says, hoarsely.

Lexi cowers closer to her father, a stupid, stupid instinct, and she wants to cry, she wants to laugh at her psychology, her biology, whatever wretched part of her is looking to this man for security, whatever foolish part of her holds onto hope.

This can only end badly. This can only end really, really badly.

“Really did a number on her, then, Gus?” he says, with a cruel little laugh. “Shacked up with a drug dealer, I hear, little lady? Let’s hope he can come through, for your daddy’s sake.”

It is quick and violent, the way it unravels, the way realisation comes. Lexi can feel the horror humming in her blood, can feel the breath catch in her throat, but there’s no time, there’s no time to be devastated, there’s no luxury of fear.

Lexi whirls on her father. “How did you even - ?”

“I’m sorry, Lexi, I’m so sorry,” Gus says, and she can hear the pain in his voice, but it doesn’t mean anything, it can’t. “You know I wouldn’t do this if there was another option. But, it’s just - we’re running low, and I need to stay here, and we - well, I ran into your friend Rue, and she’s - she’s not doing too good, I’m sorry, I know what a good friend you are to her. But, she’s not, and she mentioned that she’s only hanging around these parts because your boyfriend cut her off - ”

He is babbling. This is where Lexi gets her habit from, she knows, and she is struck by a memory, the way her mother used to affectionately call her husband and youngest daughter worry warts. That was the dynamic - Gus and Lexi were passive, Suze and Cassie were assertive. And though being similar to her dad in this way didn’t make him love Lexi as much as Cassie - the way Gus used to love Cassie was otherworldly, to an extent of love Lexi hadn’t been on the receiving end of until she met Fezco - it felt like something special. Something for them to share.

Tears prickle in Lexi’s eyes, and it scares her. She doesn’t want to seem any more childish than she already does. She has to be stern if she wants a chance of making it out of this place, this place of depravity where she does not want to die.

Could she die? It seems very possible that she will die.

“You have to let me go,” Lexi says, trying to sound firm, but it comes out desperate.

Gus tightens his grip on her elbow, rubbing his thumb over her sweater sleeve.

Fez does this, her heart whispers. The memory comes crashing through the scene, incongruous. She knows what his thumb feels like, and it’s bigger than her father’s, softer, which is absurd, because Fez has calloused hands, but they’re nothing compared to a junkie’s scarred fingers. The thought of Fez’s touch is what drives her over the edge, and the first tear dribbles. A sniffle escapes her, unbidden.

“No, don’t cry,” Gus croons. She hears it in a voice from ten years earlier, a voice asking about nightmares, a voice that soothed instead of inspired bitterness in her throat.

Lexi chokes on citrus terror. She shakes her head, she squirms in his hold.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” her father insists. “I’m just gonna need you to call your boyfriend, and give me the phone, so I can talk to him for a minute. That’s it. Then we can get you out of here, okay?”

“No, no, no,” she rambles, yanking her arm, trying to pull away. “No, I’m not going to give you my phone, I’m not going to involve him in whatever this is - ”

“Lexi, come on. It’s not like he’d be a stranger to a situation like this.”

“Yes he fucking is! He’s never had to give product away to save someone from being held hostage before!” Lexi bursts, suddenly yelling, her chest heaving, and it’s like the dirt enshrouding her, she can’t breathe, she’s being squeezed. “He’s never had me involved in his business before, he’s kept it completely - c-completely separate from me!”

Everybody has been so worried for her. Supportive, because they all love Fezco, and nobody wants to incite the wrath of protective Lexi - but they have been worried, too.

Worried about entanglement in this world. This dark, dark world. Lexi had no idea just how bleak it was until now. Until her father brought her here, to this hollow he has dubbed as a better home than the one he once shared with his children, brought her here to try to use her as leverage for free drugs.

“I’m your daughter,” she whispers. “I’m your daughter.”

She means to say something different, she thinks, but it’s all that comes out.

Gus turns away from her. Abhorrence twists on his face, and it’s not enough, the knowledge that he hates himself. It doesn’t change what he’s doing.

But it does change who is in charge.

From nowhere, the other man is in front of her, yellow teeth glinting in her face. He almost makes for a less formidable foe - unfamiliar, in the least, and so not quite as jarring. Except, his claws are already around her throat, and he’s slamming her against the nearest wall. It caves under her weight, his force - plaster crumbles around her skull, and white speckles fall in her face, blinding her.

“For fuck’s sake, hand over the phone,” the man growls, and he sounds annoyed, as though he’s merely been inconvenienced. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“No,” Lexi chokes out, because she isn’t going to drag Fezco here. She knows how vulnerable his business is, since his house was raided, since what happened with Mouse. She isn’t going to have him hand over free drugs to her runaway father.

It is a line of reasoning she could never regret, but still, she recognises the stupidity of her stubbornness. She recognises the futility of her fight. She knows her hands to be small, but they have never looked quite so powerless, quite so fragile, as they grapple at the sweat stained shirt of this man who is not a man, swatting at him uselessly as he keeps slamming her against the wall, as he lifts a fist and drives it into her face.

Blood floods her vision. It is thick in her eyes, pouring down her face. It’s like crying, but heavier, rustier. The monster lets go of her, and she crumples.

Something inside her crunches when she hits the ground. She writhes on the floor, amidst all of the empty beer bottles and garbage bags and heroin needles, and she cringes, scrunches herself up so her bare legs won’t touch anything diseased.

Her head is pounding. Her eyes are half open, trying to be alert, but the best they can muster is minimal. Nothing exists except for the throbbing pain in her sides. Lexi is wincing with it, inching along the floor, trying to reach the door.

She hears arguing voices in the background - “No, no, that’s my daughter, she’s seventeen, she’s only a baby!” - and doesn’t understand what they’re talking about. She thinks she might be concussed. Her mind oozes with vagueness - get to the door, get to the door, get to the door. If she breaks it down into steps, she can escape.

“Lexi,” her father is murmuring to her. He is crouched on the floor, his hands moving in the space around her. “Lexi, let me help you - ”

“Don’t touch me!” she gasps. 

It is important that she doesn’t let him come anywhere near her. Her mind is aware enough for this. Funny, when just the opposite has been coveted for so long. Now, her desperation to keep away from him is enough to get her upright. 

Lexi scrambles, falls into another pile of rubbish, and lifts herself off the floor. Her ribs scream with protest, and she groans, grabs hold of her sides, as if to keep the organs in place. Not that the organs are the problem - she knows it’s the bones. Frail ivory, turned in on itself, the shell protecting her heart having come undone.

“Let me drive you home, sweetheart,” Gus pleads.

She can’t see him, there is so much blood in her eyes, so much fog in her mind. But she knows how pathetic he looks. She knows how unkempt he is. She knows what he is.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” she says, and stumbles out the door.

-

Lexi gets lost on the way home. She had paid attention during the drive to the drug den, but her thoughts are far from coherent, now. She does her best, staggering in the late afternoon sun, coughing crimson everywhere she goes. Every time she finds herself at a dead end, she can turn back to the path of her blood, a red carpet of her own design - it is the sickest trail of breadcrumbs she could imagine.

She supposes she is ostentatious about her state, because it doesn’t take long for someone to pull up on the sidewalk, to call out an inquiry about her wellbeing.

“I’m fine!” she calls, trying for a smile. She might not have bothered, had she known that her eyes are red, her teeth are red, her neck is purple.

The car parks, and Lexi recoils, terrified, but she isn’t fast enough to escape the stranger who approaches her. She has been walking long enough that she is at the edge of the suburbs, and the woman touches her with gentle fingers.

It’s as though she blacks out. 

Lexi opens her eyes, and everything is different. There is no blaring sun, there is no blood in her mouth. The pain in her side is mitigated.

“What happened?” she slurs.

“You fainted, dear,” comes a kind voice. “You’re in the hospital. Is there someone we can call to pick you up and take care of you? They found your phone in your pocket, but it’s flat, and you weren’t carrying any ID.”

She tries to remember where her bag is. Then she remembers, remembers looking over her shoulder at her bike and her school bag, left crumpled in the front yard, discarded where her father left them, before kidnapping her. If Lexi weren’t so stupid, she would’ve put up a better fight to being kidnapped - instead, she had gaped at him like a fish, and surrendered. She decides that she deserves to have her laptop and money stolen from her backpack, as punishment for the detriment of her foolishness.

“Your parents, maybe?” the woman prompts.

“Can you call Fez?” she mumbles, because she’s too out of it to understand that her saviour does not know who that is. 

“Fez?” she repeats, sounding confused.

Lexi’s gaze flickers to the source of the voice, and she understands. The kind lady is elderly. She seems to be quite robust, but it still surprises her that someone so wrinkled has apparently managed to get her deadweight body into the car after she had passed out, and then out of it again to take her to the ER.

“My boyfriend,” Lexi murmurs. She takes pleasure in the title, most of the time. She feels possessive of it, she feels normal for it, like a teenage girl in love. But now it seems like very little to say about him. He is the only person who can fix this, she is certain, and there is a weight to that. 

It means more than what this woman must think - this teenage girl she has found, beaten and bruised and bloody, coming conscious and deflecting suggestions about calling her parents to ask for her boyfriend instead.

But the lady is not judgemental about her inquiry.

She hands over her phone, asks, “Do you know the number?”

Lexi does. Her fingers shake as she types it in. She almost wishes that she didn’t have to be the one to call, and didn’t have to be the one to tell him. She still remembers that night when he got home late from collecting, and she had meant to stay awake for him but she had fallen asleep on the couch. He had gotten home, and told her that he would kill anybody who ever tried to hurt her. She recalls his anguish. 

She knows that this will kill him.

“Hello?”

It is his voice. It is so beautiful that Lexi starts to cry.

“Lexi?” Fez asks, recognising her, somehow.

“Fez,” Lexi murmurs, and then she is crying too much to speak.

It hits her hard. She’s safe. She got away. Now, she has Fez in her hands, his voice in her ear. He’s going to come and get her, he’s going to take care of her.

She still cannot breathe, but the taste of lemon is gone.

[spotlightstudios]

Meant to post this a few hours back, but I ended up writing out 90% of their backstory w/ several paragraphs. Y'all didn't come here for their epic love-story, you're here for art unrelated to this lmao.

All ya gotta know is, Eclipse (left) was meant to die of he hadn't found a companion by the next actual eclipse 20 yrs from his birth. Ichor (right) is a God who was sent to oversee the prophecy being fulfilled, but ended up being a menace and breaking it by saving Eclipse. Due to technicalities, they got betrothed, and through the slowest strangers->friends->lovers story ever, they finally married.

Shenanigans ensue. This is only a piece of Ichor's backstory, and honestly the version of him I normally draw is from long after thr Eclipse Era, but they're still my favorite boys in the whole world :3

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

-

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

-

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

-

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

-

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

-

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

-

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

[lavenoon]

Okay okay, so this ask is completely self-indulgent and also for New Horizons writing...

But I need to know, when Eclipse eventually introduces Neon to his brothers... How would the two of them react to meeting Neon? I can only imagine this would be a planned meeting too, and hopefully done during a time Eclipse's relationship with them is a *bit* better.

So... If you don't mind... May I has details? How might they react/get on? Do you think the boys would like Neon? What's their feelings on them?

i am nervous, good morning

I think by that point they'll have heard enough about Neon to already feel like they know them (at least somewhat). There would be some polite awkwardness - let's imagine it's Sun and Moon coming to visit!

Arriving late in the evening and Moon is trying very hard to not frown at seeing Neon still up and going, not even close to getting to bed. But it's fine, it's fine, he doesn't know their schedule and he's supposed to get to know them now! Would have an easier time slipping into a more comfortable lighthearted conversation, sneaking in little teases and hoping to make Neon laugh by telling embarrassing stories about Eclipse. Just the nice ones! Like how right after getting his body, both Sun and Moon had to often drag him along after he wandered off to follow a butterfly or another insect, late night (low battery) talks of "Why can't we see shrimp colors. We're already animatronics, why did we have to be limited to human adjacent vision?" "The humans haven't figured out how to access shrimp colors yet, Eclipse." "Why?" "???", or how he once got a piece of plastic from a fidget toy stuck in his face plate and unfortunately got stuck with it upside down - wait, he still has the photos somewhere, give him a second -

Will accept embarrassing stories about himself with some grace before just deciding to rag on Sun together, because there are simply so many and Sun isn't here to defend himself and also Moon is a menace. Surprised perhaps by how many stories Neon already knows, but loves to counter them with even funnier bits!

Sun is a little more awkward, simply because he thinks (once again) that things have to be proper, he's meeting his little brother's partner for the first time and has to leave a good impression! Internally screeching at Moon (who dips right back into rest mode) when he learns that his "good first impression" has been ruined by humiliating stories! Gives off slight kicked puppy vibes as he assures Neon he's really not always like that - not even usually! Slightly relieved when Neon doesn't seem too put off, maybe even reassures him that they like him better as a dork. His pride complains a little, but he would accept it on account of "at least they like me". Would help Eclipse with cooking for Neon without being asked, asking about their preferences in passing and if they've tried certain meals - if any answer is "no", he immediately offers to make it for them. He's good at that, and it's a good way to earn brownie points! Will show Eclipse, too, and the screeching of "NOT THAT HOT!!!" or "THAT'S NOT HOW OVENS WORK" is an entertainment show in and of itself

Would also (somewhat petulantly) agree that the perfect revenge on Moon would be to share equally as embarrassing stories, and Neon can rub their little pizza hands together and earn even more blackmail material for their future family <3

Both of them have that nervousness - once they get along better with Eclipse and Neon isn't as defensive about how they treated him (which, while justified, would not be nice bonding) they'd only worry about being liked because they already know Neon from what Eclipse told them, and they like them but what if they don't like the boys?

Neither of them would do well with having their mistakes pointed out to them - they know they messed up with Eclipse, they're trying to do better, but any mention of that would probably make them feel bad and withdraw. Best to leave that off the table during that first visit, even if there'll be some awkward stumbles trying to avoid it - they'll appreciate that, actually. Them not being the only ones fumbling, and not getting reprimanded for something they're already working to fix

There's really no need for Neon to worry - they're good for Eclipse, and Eclipse loves them to bits, so Sun and Moon have already adopted them into the family before they ever meet <3

[jadegrey711]

It’s your Voodoo Working

Caliban x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello my loves. I’m slowly getting through my requests and one of them requested I do another Caliban oneshot. Which i was more than happy to do since there is so little of him. I tried making it passionate but then a song gave me this other idea for him and i just love writing him as a mischievous little shit. 

Also apparently making something passionate means long as fuck. Also by the end of this I just wasn’t feeling the smut so i kind of cut it out. I’m not really feeling my writing very much these days but I hope you guys still enjoy this. 

Word Count: 2787

*NOT MY GIF*

Anon: Can you pls do another Caliban smut but maybe this time it’s like passionate as shit? Thank you, love your writing!!

Song Inspiration:

It’s your voodoo working - Charles Sheffield 

Feel Me - Mecca Kalani 

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

The very first time you laid your eyes on him, you had to admit he was breathtaking. You stood there in awe as he appeared before you and the rest of the Fright Club in a ball of whirling fire. Once he fully materialized in front of all of you, he immediately turned to Sabrina.

“Sabrina.” He regarded her with an easy smile.

“Caliban.” She regarded him in turn, her voice laced with ice. But his smile never wavered.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of you summoning me here, Sabrina?”

“My friends and I need your help, Caliban; in defeating a most foul eldritch beast.” Sabrina said, before she gestured towards us and you watched as Caliban regarded each of you. Starting with Roz, Harvey, Theo and then he turned his attention towards you; his mossy green eyes met yours and that lazy smile returned to his handsome face.

“Enchanted.” He purred as he drank you in and let the room sit in silence for a beat before he continued, looking away from you and back to Sabrina.

“You know my help doesn’t come free Sabrina.”

Sabrina outwardly groaned. “Name your price.” She said with a wave of her hand as if that’ll make him spit out his demands faster so she can move on with her life.

“I don’t require much. All I require is your name, fair maiden.” He purred, taking your hand in his before he placed a kiss upon your knuckles.

“Oh damn.” You heard Roz whisper beside you.

Sabrina however, looked extremely irritated. “Come on Caliban you expect me to believe that all you want in exchange for your help is my friend’s name? You must want something else. You can’t have Y/-” Just as Sabrina was about to say your name Caliban cut her off.

“I want her name and I want it from her own lips.” he said an edge of danger in his voice, before he looked back to you, his hand still holding yours in his grasp.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest like a bird in a cage and wet your lips with your tongue before you spoke. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He whispered your name almost reverently, letting your name roll across his tongue. “It suits you.” He smiled, and that smile made you feel like you had just made the biggest mistake telling him your name.

That first encounter was over a month ago and in that time Caliban was true to his word to his word. He had helped in any capacity he could to aid you in defeating this horror you all were facing. However, in that same amount of time Sabrina had figured out his true intentions for being so helpful. Word on the hellish grapevine was that hell had been lonely for the new king, since he and Sabrina had locked up dear old dad and he wanted a queen for himself, and was setting his eyes upon you.

Sabrina warned you, to stay away that he was the definition of a bastard and to not put it past him that he would not simply take his mortal bride like Hades did to Persephone. You tried to shake off the chill as you imagined Caliban rising from the cracked earth, his strong hands gripping you closely to his body as he dragged you to his kingdom of nightmares.

Also within that month you tried avoiding him like the plague, but it seemed no use; Caliban was everywhere you turned, like gum stuck on your shoe. He would meet you outside of your lecture halls, stay close to you at the academy’s library brushing his hands against yours, sometimes leaning in to whisper something close to your ear.

It was starting to become so difficult to keep your blood from not warming at the smallest of his touches, or even just the feeling of his presence as he walked into a room. You felt yourself going mad at each of those little touches and how when he would walk up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to see what your were doing; you found the temptation to just push your body back into his achingly warm one harder to resist. It was like he was working some kind of voodoo on your body, making it so you craved him, wanted him with every fiber of your being; until he didn’t need to wrap his arms around you and steal you away to his kingdom. No. You were going to throw yourself into his arms at the very mention of taking you away.

*****

Today he was working his voodoo again, he came up behind you and placed his hands on your hips. You tried not to moan out right at the feeling of his large warm hands on your waist, making you immediately conjure up images of what he could do with those hands.

“How are you today, lovely Y/N?” He whispered in your ear.

You steeled yourself before your answered him. “I’ll be better when you get your hands off of me.” you tried to say it with menace but there was no bite in your voice.

“Why would I want to do that?” he nuzzled his nose in your hair just behind your ear before he whispered. “I think my hands belong here and I think your hands belong on me. Don’t you agree?”

“No.” you said shakily. You looked around the academy’s library but no one was here, not even Sabrina. No one was here to save you from the eclipsing fog filling your head that was Caliban.

“Come on Y/N.” he said nuzzling your hair again, making goosebumps run down your arms and your back erupt with a spine tingling shiver. “Why do you keep denying what we have here? I’ve seen the carnal lust in your eyes from the very moment that we met, just as you’ve seen it in mine. So, why fight it?”

You steeled yourself as your turned in Caliban’s arms, facing him now; those moss green eyes focused acutely on your body. Taking in the way your chest heaved up and down with each deep steadying breath you took, your breasts barely brushing against his chest with every breath. He took in the sound of your heartbeat rapidly increasing as he kept staring at you, observing you, devouring the image of you.

“I know what you want from me. And it’s not just carnal, as you love to say.” You said, trying not to notice the heat radiating from his body, or the way your nipples were aching peaks as you gazed back into those jade eyes.

Caliban licked his lips, stepping just a hair closer to you and closing the small space between your bodies. “And what is it that I truly want from you Y/N?” he asked as he reached up and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Sabrina told me about you and your desire for some meek mortal bride. Someone to use and frighten for eons.” You said, trying to calm your increasing heartbeat.

“Do I frighten you Y/N?” he asked, his eyebrow quirked up in question.

“No.” You said, feeling the truth of it ring out in your voice.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He said before pausing for a breath, leaning down to place a small kiss against your cheek, and felt that small kiss shoot through your entire body like a lightning strike. “Sabrina has heard right, I am looking for a queen. But, you’re wrong about wanting a meek woman by my side, someone like that wouldn’t last five seconds. No.” he said as he placed another kiss but this time on the other cheek.

You should push him away from you, wipe his gentle kisses off with disgust but you couldn’t fight the increasing warmth that seemed to radiate deeper into your bones and soul with each small kiss he gave you.

“I wanted someone strong and fiery. Someone who would defy me at every turn.” He placed a kiss against your neck on your rapid pulse, making you gasp. “This makes me a bit of a masochist I know this. But, I wanted a woman, not a girl and when I first saw you Y/N, I knew instantly that you were that woman and from that moment on I’ve desperately wanted to see a crown placed on your head.” He finished, placing a kiss on the other side of your neck.

“Caliban.” You whispered, biting your bottom lip hard.

“You don’t have to love me Y/N, not now that’ll come in time” Caliban said breathily as his soft kisses on your neck became more desperate, and started to feel your resolve weaken as Caliban’s spell on your was finally working it’s magic on you. “Just let me love you right now.” Caliban said his voice husky. “Please Y/N.” That’s when you realized he was asking your permission. His hands were starting to roam over your body, igniting your even hotter as they lifted up your shirt slightly in their exploration, and skin touched skin.

But with one word from you, he’d stop; you knew that. But did you actually want him to stop? His large hands grabbed your ass by the handfuls and you knew that was most definitely not the case.

You reached up with trembling hands and dug your fingers into those luscious blonde locks, hearing Caliban moan as you gently pulled on them. His eyes never left yours as you nodded slowly to him, telling him exactly what you wanted; that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Caliban’s lips crashed against yours, and you felt his heat fully envelope you as you opened your mouth to his invading tongue, letting yours meet his in a dance of dominance. With your hands still deep in his blonde locks, you pulled him closer to you, wanting to feel every part of his body against yours.

Caliban’s hands roamed back down your back and ass until they reached the back of your thighs and you took that as a signal to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He smiled against your lips and starting walking away from the table you were originally by and closer towards the massive fireplace in the library. Without breaking the kiss Caliban brought the both of you in front of the fireplace and sat down on the rug in front of it, having you straddle his lap.

Caliban’s lips pulled away from yours only so they could attach themselves to your neck, placing soft kisses there before those soft kisses turned to harsh sucks. You craned your neck to the side to give him more access as you delved your fingers into his luscious locks. You felt Caliban’s hands roam down your back and gently squeezed your ass, making you smile before you felt his fingers grab the edges of your shirt and as they roamed back up your back he was bringing up your shirt. You helped him out by bringing up your arms and then your shirt was on the floor next to you.

You watched as Caliban took in the sight of your exposed body with such an intensity in his eyes that it made you blush all over. You watched with equal intensity as Caliban lowered his head to your breasts and kissed the tops of them, his hands reaching behind you once again to undo the clasp of your bra with ease. He looked mesmerizing as he watched it slip from your shoulders and you placed it with your shirt.  

Caliban started to lower his head again but you stopped him. “Wait.” You said biting your lip. “I want to see you.” You said as you grabbed the edge of his shirt and lifted it off of him and watched as his shirt joined yours in the ever growing pile of clothes next to you.

You reach your hands out hesitantly to touch him, and heard a low groan come from between his plush lips as your hands rested at the top of his chest. You ran your hands down him feeling every muscle tighten as you explored his grooves and scars.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered. “If you truly were made from clay as Sabrina says, I think you were perfectly sculpted.”

“Oh, Y/N. I think you’ll be the death of me.” he groaned and suddenly you felt the sensation of falling and your head met with the soft rug underneath you. You watched as Caliban hovered over you, situating himself between your legs and drinking you in.

Caliban let out a small sigh. “I may be beautiful yes this is true.” He said, a small smirk growing on his face and you smiled at his arrogance, fighting the urge to give his arm a smack. “But my beauty is nothing compared to you and especially to you in this moment laid out before me like a goddess. I pale in comparison.” He said and lowered his head back to you neck and you instinctively moved it to the side to giving him more access to you. You watched in wonder as Caliban’s kisses started moving lower, kissing the tops of your collarbones, his tongue tracing down your sternum and to the valley of your breasts, his hair all the while tickling you as he moved lower.

You let out a gasp as you felt Caliban’s tongue trace circles around your harden nipple before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. The sensation of his mouth around you and his tongue flicking at your nipple made your back arch into his mouth, desperately wanting more.

Suddenly, you felt Caliban’s hands on the tops of your jeans and began unbuttoning them as he began lavishing your other breast with the same devotion.

His hands were agile and he finished undoing the buttons of your jeans and began pulling them down; at the same time his lips were beginning to move further down your body.

You felt the heat in your body spike as you realized what Caliban was planning to do to you next. “Caliban.” You sounded breathy, as his name came out almost as a plea. You wanted him to end his slow methodical torture and just wanted to take you, make you his. But as Caliban pulled away from you and brought your legs up to start pulling off your jeans, you realized he had other plans for you.

He gently pulled away your jeans and panties all at once, being so gentle as he took your feet out of each one of the pant legs, before tossing your panties and jeans both to the side; leaving you completely bare under him. He kept your legs up and by his face and never broke eye contact with you as he took one leg and began kissing you, starting from your ankle and working down till he got to your inner thigh.

“Caliban, please.” You heard yourself beg. But beg for what? Him to stop or for him to never stop?

“What do you want princess?” he asked his voice a low growl, as he started kissing your other leg, working down it slowly placing kisses on your ankles, behind your knees, working to your inner thighs again.

“I feel like you’re torturing me. You’ve been torturing me this whole month and now now you’re killing me.”

You watched as he lowered himself to settle in between your thighs, feeling breathless and needy.

He smiled at you his eyes locking onto yours as you felt those soft lips kiss you intimately. “There’ll be no more torture Y/N. Once you’ve given yourself fully over to me you will only know bliss.” He murmured against your inner thighs, kissing down both of them before he continued licking at you; his tongue flicked your clit and you felt your back lift from the ground.

“Caliban.” You pleaded, digging your fingers in his hair, almost as if you wanted to pull him away or push him closer to you. “Caliban, I need you, I want you, I want to give in to you.”

With that Caliban stopped and pulled away from your quaking center, making you whimper from the loss of contact. His eyes seemed to glow with the intensity they held in them. “Do you mean it? Because if you do, there’s no going back. You’re mine and I am yours.”

“I mean it.” You say with a sincerity that surprised you and felt a smile bloom across your face as Caliban wrapped you up in him and sealed your fate.

[naffeclipse]

Devil Eyes Questions as requested!

Does y/n have friends in the department or are they more of a black sheep? If they’re an ‘outsider’, does that increase their initial appeal to Eclipse, or is he Obsessed™️ no matter what?

I will not deny that I am susceptible to Pretty Girls and therefore must ask if we will get to see Vanessa in this AU? 👀 If yes, maybe our favorite soggy friend Michael as well??? I always enjoy seeing the Buddies™️ in your work!

Back to our husband Eclipse! I’m of course hoping to see him In Action in the AU as a whole but I am wondering if it’s too spoiler-y to ask if he’s a chatty kind of Spooky Guy or more Silent & Menacing? He’s much scarier as a quiet, Looming Threat, but the more of his unhinged takes on things the absolute better imo. He’s so weird (read: I love him❤️❤️❤️) and unpredictable so far I’d love to know what is even going on up in there.

Can I give y/n a hug??? because they are having a rough time 🥺

They're fresh to the department—a greenhorn—so, they're just getting used to everyone. They have no problem making conversation or acquaintances but they're here to do a good job first and foremost. Eclipse doesn't learn about their status with their coworkers until after the first meeting, but he's glad his lambchop isn't buddy-buddy with everyone, save for one.

Vanessa! Yes, she will be in the AU. She is a fellow officer and a friend to Y/N. If you're familiar with my works, you might also recognize Nate and Cafaro somewhere in there as well. Michael's around too, don't you worry! AH BUDDIES! That's cute. I do like to write those two together!

Eclipse is more silent and menacing. He's very effective in what he does so he doesn't have time to chat unless it's with purpose. He's going to scare the officer plenty of times with his looming in their apartment.

But he'll have a moment or two of being unhinged :)

Sure, babe. A good hug would do wonders for Y/N <3

[animation-recaps-by-sean]

The Owl House Elsewhere & Elsewhen Recap

Luz takes despite measures to learn about the portal and Eda’s past comes for her. Spoilers below. 

Well here we are again. Earlier Friday it was announced that the light novel was canceled. According to Dana, the publisher was only offering to pay pennys. I don’t know if she meant Disney Press, Disney Manga, or Tokyo Pop. All three were attached to the project. It sounds like this went down a while ago and properly wasn’t that plot heavy to begin with. But it is salt in a wound; even if just a little. Dana had said she’ll be down to another go, albit for decent money. Hopefully one day I’ll be able to write an Owl House review without drama hanging over everything. One day.

Anyway, Hooty is hosting a party for Lillith’s new job as a museum assent director. We got Steve, Big Nose (who disappears between frames, and they spill her drink, so it’s just not an animation issue), Mama Clawthrone. But Lilith’s former mentor, who is just Dora the Explorer for some reason, taunts her.

Meanwhile Luz decides to look up time travel magic so she can talk to Phillip directly. But time travel isn’t just a spell. In fact it’s considered pseudo science I like this since too many fantasy shows just have time travel but only use for one or two episodes and than just don’t mention it. Luz recruits cool Aunt Lilith to help her.

While that is going on, Mama Clawthrone tries to reconnect Eda with her father. She doesn’t want to, even dressing up as Lilith to try to escape. No one buys it, but it does make King and Mama Clawthrone sorry enough for her to let her pass.

But despite Eda’s scheming, she walks strat toward her father. And we learn why this is so hard for Eda. She didn’t just take out his eye. She mauled his dominant arm. An arm too damaged for him to do the job he loved. CXraving pailismens. He doesn’t blame Eda, despite Eda insisting that he should. It was a fantastic scene.

Luz and Lilith find some time portals in the sand thanks to Lilth’s science magic. They don’t have a lot of time so Luz searches for the Deadwardian Era while Lilith trips over her own head. I wanna take a moment to appreciate the Peridotifcation of Lilith. Her hair is starting to frezz again and she started wearing her glasses again. And most important of all her air of menace has been replaced with dorkiness.

They find the era and discover that wild magic isn’t that wild. Witches change between types of spells with no issues. They find Phillip being bullied by two bipedal demons about their missing brother. Luz saves him and she and Lilith give false names to protect the timeline.

They journey to the Titan’s head while Luz teaches Pjilip about the light glyph. Lilith is unnerved by how his polite demeanor and his compliments seem familiar to Lilith.  

Turns out Phillip wanted them to distract a monster while he digs for a mirror. Then leaves them to die. Luz uses what she learned from Lilith to tame the monster. They go to confront Philip who lied about needing the mirror for the portal. So Lilith punches him. They return to the present and meet with Eda.

While Phillip goes to a cave where he reveals glyph tattoos on his arm. One that causes him pain. And he can only stop it by eating the essence inside the palismens. Belos suses the mirror to summon a face with an eclipse moon motif. Similar to what made the owl beast curse.

I knew Belos was Philip. Everyone was saying he was decent or something but nope, same guy. Belos says he only needs to stay alive to do something. Then what is it? I always assumed that immortality was his end game but the dialogue hints at something different.

The time travel seems to be stable time loops with Lilith kicking her own head. And that line about meeting each other could have meant this episode. Hell, he could have sent Dora the Explorer to egg Lilith on.

Fantastic episode, answers, more questions, and drama 4/4

[superspookywombat]

The Good Vibes Witch {j.h}

Warnings: one use of ‘hell’, un-proofread writing

Requests (shortened versions) : “I would love to read fanfiction (one shot) where reader is a young witch, which decided to move to the town since she is traying to get hold of her powers and take a breath from life, just rest. (like the more scared or stressed she is the harder it is to use her powers) they could be like... she could change the reality, it will be realated to her imagination and the calmer she gets the more powerful she is? but not knowing the life there isn't that calm like she would like it to be. Turns out she is Jasper soulmate, the reason she get there was that Jasper persona was "calling her" and they seems to be perfect much since he got the powers to control emotions. She is really sweet and pretty shy women, but when needed can be really tough.” from @mental-breaker-74​

And: “Can you make a jasper x reader imagine set in eclipse where y/n is a young witch (just young adult age and not 100+) who can kick new born vamp's ass ??” from anonymous

A/n: i’ve had a lot of writer’s block recently so this isn’t my best work and i’m sorry about that. also, i kept going between passed tense and current so idk what’s going on with me tbh

Enjoy :)

You weren’t sure what possessed you to drive your crappy little car to the East Coast, but there you were, on a bumpy little backroad because your car couldn’t go over 46 MPH. Maybe it was the promise of starting a new life in a sleepy town, somewhere you could hide in a cottage in the woods and be one with nature. You needed somewhere quiet- somewhere calm- where you could thrive and be in control of your powers. Something was calling you to the earthy town of Forks, something you couldn’t describe. If there was one thing you had learned by now, though, it was to always go with your gut.

You pull into a run-down gas station, where only one other car is there besides yours. You walk towards the door, hesitating before wrapping your fingers around the door handle and pulling it open. Walking up to the cashier and pulling out a twenty from your wallet, you gently tap the bell on the counter. The shrill sound vibrates your eardrums, and a man walks out of a hidden corner. He does a double take at you, before lifting his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead. You glance down at your shoes, trying to place your focus anywhere but the man. He holds out his hand for the bill, and you hand it to him, his fingers unnecessarily brushing yours and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“What’s a pretty, young thing like you doing all on your lonesome?” He asks, leaning in close enough so that you can smell what he had for lunch. “Bad things happen to ladies that travel these roads alone.” 

“I’ll be careful, thank you.” You say, reluctantly plastering a smile onto your face. You pull your arms to your chest protectively and glance over your shoulder repeatedly until you’re out of the store and into the open air. As you fill up your car, you look at your reflection in the driver seat window. It had been a spell gone wrong that left you 17 for the rest of eternity, but you hadn’t known it at the time. All you wanted was to be treated like an adult, but it backfired and froze your body and left you as a teenager for the last forty years. You had to move around every three to four years, or whenever people started suspicious of you not aging. You found that if you built a cottage in the woods, you could prolong your stay to about ten years. You didn’t need to eat, your body was literally frozen in time.

Once the machine clicks, you get in your car, locking it immediately and putting it in drive. According to your phone, you were about two hours away from your new home. 

You almost miss the driveway to the plot of land you bought, it being tire tracks that lead to a cliff above the river. As soon as you reach the end of the bumpy drive, you step out and look at your surroundings. You squint your eyes, seeing flashes of white through the tall trees. Great, neighbors. You sigh and make sure that there’s no one watching before closing your eyes. Once you’re one hundred percent calm, you mentally reach down into the earth and pull at the metal, rocks, and wood. All around you, rocks lift from the riverbed, the breeze drying them before they settle into the form of a shelter. Wood from the forest floor drags over and makes a roof, the moss still glued to the bark.

Your new house knits itself together before dawn. You place your trinkets and potion ingredients on the wooden shelves, then lay out your tattered quilt on the makeshift bed. You inhale the earthy scent, then look around at your home for the next decade, hopefully. 

Over the next few days, as you settle in, you focus your time on decorating your cottage. Flowers sprout from the grass, moss and vines rapidly plaster themselves onto the stone, and mushrooms stick up from the stumps decorating your yard. Because you only need a few hours of sleep per week, you use most of your free time knitting rugs to make the place warmer.

A week after moving in, a knock on your sturdy front door takes you by surprise. Why would someone come visit you? You obviously moved out here for isolation. You walk over to the window, moving the curtain aside to peek out and look at the visitors. A petite woman and a tall, lanky man stand outside, the woman holds wildflowers in her hands. You reach to open the door, but then remember your exposed cauldron. Swiftly pulling a blanket over it, you open the door and poke your head out. 

“Hi, I’m Alice.” The woman says, holding her flowers out for you to take. You blink, before realizing you should take them. Opening the door all of the way, you gently take the flowers from her grasp. “We were out hiking and noticed your cottage, here- it’s so lovely.” 

“Oh, um, thank you.” You say, mentally cursing yourself for being so awkward. You motion for them to come inside, glancing around the small room for anything incriminating. 

“This is my brother, Jasper.” Alice says as you rummage for a free vase to put the flowers in. Standing up and deciding to find something later, you tuck your hands safely behind your back, looking up to meet the blond’s intense gaze. You look down at your bare feet, blushing. 

“Nice to meet your acquaintance, ma’am.” He says, his southern drawl like a lullaby to your ears. Calmness radiates through the room and you feel your powers swell inside you. Despite the calm, something more powerful pushes its way into the room. 

“What are you?” Alice asks, her thin eyebrows pushing into a menacing squint.

“Wh-what?” You stutter, backing up until the back of your knees hit your rocking chair. 

“Alice..” Jasper says, but she shuts him up with a pointed look. He sighs, clearly giving in to the girl.

“I can’t see her, Jazz. And neither of us can hear her.” Alice says.

“I know what you are.” You say before you can stop yourself. There was a few in one of the towns you had called home for awhile. They both whip their heads to you, and you suddenly feel small. Why the hell would you say that? “I can feel it, the power radiating from you. You both are Cold Ones- more popularly known as vampires.”

Alice looks at Jasper with wide eyes. “How do you know that?” She asks. You close your eyes and focus on the sight of a flower blooming. When you open your eyes, you open your hands and a white lily sits in your palm. “A witch..”

“Something called me here. Someone called me here.” You say, and Alice looks to Jasper. 

“We need to take her to Carlisle.” She says. They quickly walk out of your cottage, and you look to them with wide eyes.

“You carry her, Jazz.” Alice says nonchalantly. 

“Pardon?” You ask, but you’re swiftly swept off of your feet. You clasp your arms around Jasper’s neck, a scream escaping your lips as he takes a running start and jumps off of the cliff. “Are you trying to kill me?” 

“Not particularly.” He says with a sly smirk. After demanding he puts you down, you jump from his grasp and follow Alice into the big, white house.

-------------------------------------------------

After a few months of living next to the coven of vampires, you were rather good friends with them. Alice liked to drop by and knit with you, Rosalie liked to visit and drink a concoction of yours- Blood Tea, Esme gardened with you, Carlisle and Edward liked to sit and read on your bench, and Emmett enjoyed listening to you talk about the native species (even if it was just to know what was best to hunt.) You’d become close, so it came as no surprise when you found yourself spending more and more time with Jasper. He liked to spend most nights in your garden with you, stargazing, watching you practice magic, or even reading. You both fed off of each others’ calmness, making you more in control of your powers and him feeling relaxed. One rainy evening, it had happened so fast you didn’t even realize. You realized that you had fallen in love with the lanky blond.

“I know this is a lot to ask of you, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you could handle yourself.” Carlisle had come to you the morning after a big party at their house. 

“What’s happened?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea. He took it, graciously, but made no move to settle in. 

“We have to fight, and I think you would be very helpful.” He says, avoiding eye contact like a dog who had done something wrong.

“You don’t even have to ask, Carlisle. You know I’d love to help in any way that I can.” You assure him with a smile, though you feel unsure on the inside. 

That’s what brought you to a clearing that you recognize from many games of vampire baseball, staring down at an army of newborn vampires. Jasper, right next to you, held your hand in order to strengthen the emotional connection between the two of you. Of course, that didn’t help you feel calm, because the butterflies surging through your body had the exact opposite effect on you. You take a deep breath, knowing that the vampires will sense you aren’t like them and take you on as an easy target. But they’d be sorely mistaken. As vampires and wolves rushed the newborns, you stayed on the sidelines, only stepping in every so often to stop a newborn in its place if it was gaining on your friends. But when you saw three piled on top of Jasper, you inserted yourself into the battle. 

You threw your hands out, reaching for the organic material- or what was left of it- in the attackers’ body. You pulled it apart like cotton, and they flew up into the air before exploding into a cloud of dust. Jasper got back onto his feet, giving you a gracious nod. You felt lightheaded, but decided to keep going anyway. 

A yelp alerted your attention, and you ran as fast as you could, stopping at an injured wolf. You tried to calm yourself enough to knit the bloody wound back together, then stepping back to let the wolf rejoin the fight. You stood amidst the battle, sending the newborns flying and exploding. Once there were few newborns left, you collapsed to the ground, feeling drained.

You kept drifting in and out of consciousness, but you could tell that you were being carried through the woods by Jasper before blacking out again. The next time you came to, you were lying on a medical cot in what appeared to be Carlisle’s office. 

“Did we win?” You ask weakly, barely strong enough to raise your voice above a whisper. Jasper is quick to grab your hand, and you notice all of the Cullen’s surrounding the bed.

“Oh, good, she’s not dead.” Emmett says, earning a pointed look from Esme. Alice hands you flowers, reminding you of when you first met. 

“You were unconscious, we didn’t know what to do.” Carlisle says.

“I’m fine, I think. I just pushed myself further than I’m used to.” You say, your mind still foggy. Feeling stronger, you push yourself up and give Jasper a kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll give you two some space.” Esme says with a smile, and you blush and lay back down, feeling weak again.

Over the next few days, Jasper helped you regain strength. He sat on your bed with you, reading to you while you lay against him. He was like a calm machine, which helped you recharge even faster. You taught him how to knit, and he recited his favorite poems over and over again (per your demand.) You made him a flower crown and he made you one (with Alice’s help.)

Though the whole vampire battle ordeal wasn’t overly pleasant, it brought you the love of your life, and for that, you couldn’t be more grateful. 

[eddiemxnsons]

INTRÉPIDE — Nate Fick

Requested by: @bbysugarpink

hello, i would like to request something for nate from generation kill :) with the fluff prompts: “is there a reason you’re blushing like that” and “i’m not a damsel in distress. i’m a damsel doing damage” thank u so much! 🤍

To whatever sexist douchebag termed damsels — women — as always being in constant, unwarranted distress, Y/N Y/L/N could run laps around them with her intellect, physical build, and sharp tongue. She was a living illustration of an army disciplinary booklet, the words alive in calculated steps she’d approach a soldier with.

The men of the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion of the Marine Corps vexed egos could attest to the goldenly shrewd behavior of their lieutenant. She was a great shot with her rifle, but her words walloped anyone with a more profound wound than any bullet could. Superiors would tease that if science could decipher the wonderstruck complexes of her mind and bottle it, they’d give it to every trooper to fortify some manhood in them that vanished with the diaphanous sand of the desert each dawn.

With the exception of First Lieutenant Nathaniel Fick.

The duo could forge a bickering storm within seconds of a misstep in strategy, a blazing crimson error of position that had a target pinned to their asses. The remainder of their platoon would settle in the beaten leather of their humvee’s, ears perked to open windows to listen to the rather amusing strings of hisses. They’d only interject if the woman was teetering on ripping the other lieutenant a new one, and it wasn’t for the paralyzed ego of their male superior, but for the sound discipline that should be happening.

Yet, as the cruel sun beat down on one afternoon, it's one malevolent eye unblinking, the sky it's co-conspirator with not even a wisp of cloud to obscure the unrelenting rays, there was no sound discipline to be enforced. Therefore, the feverish dispute erupting with a febrile existence as hot as the weather itself, was either eavesdropped by weary troopers or entirely disregarded by those who forced slumber.

Y/N stood in front of a glowering Nate Fick in a recognizable stance, arms folded sturdily across her chest and her jacket and pants littered with palpable burns from a imprudent stunt in the early morning. He was now ripping her a new one before a few other fellow lieutenants for the chaotic strategy that had her eluding a lethal shootout by her teeth.

“You were sent on a mission to collect intel, not engage in a fucking dogfight with Iraqi soldiers, Lieutenant Y/L/N. Lately, all you’ve been leaving is a trail of collateral damage wherever you go and I have to clean it up before any higher-up flames your ass,” Nate essentially snarled in her face, his gaze fervid with fluttering chaos and madness, whetting the edge of his cerulean eyes.

“If you’re going to chastise me for doing my job, I think you should be looking at yourself and everyone else in this damn platoon! We were ambushed and I merely retaliated to save the asses of my men like any lieutenant would do. I got the fucking intel for you and spared you from writing a few condolence letters,” she sneered in retort, beckoning an offending serpent of anger into their conversation with a spark of anger igniting in her chest, “And I would appreciate if you allowed me to do what I need to do to save my men—”

“And what if I had to write one for you?!” He interjected furiously, the rustle of the adjacent map indicating that his miffed outburst startled a few of the others. Their exasperation stood equal now, black marks on their consciousnesses. When it came to her — this brazen, shrewd female lieutenant — the stagnant, usually composed first lieutenant was easy to set off, almost like flicking the top off a grenade. Scrap the usually when it came to the woman before him now.

Y/N merely scoffed, a few sputters of laughter hissing from the rifts of her lips, “Besides a loss of a lieutenant, what is it to you if something happened out there? You could give less than two fucks about me, Fick.” She peered at him with frustration radiating, aghast that he would reprimand her recklessness.

Nearly everyday did he let Death almost beat the shit out of him, and it was always her that had to save his ass and dispel its clasp. The one day she didn’t duck for cover, demand them to fallback, had a momentary lapse of judgement was the day she was endlessly ridiculed. Her hand twitched at her side as she anticipated a reaction — an excuse — from the crimson-cheeked man, an identical grimace scattering out from beneath both of their helmets.

She sobered her tongue to her cheek for the sake of hearing this argument through and through, savor in levity the first thing the blonde could spare from his humiliated ass,

“Maybe if you pulled your head out your ass, you’d realize that there are some people in this platoon that give a shit about whether or not you live or die.”

“Like who?” she beckoned in challenge, true to her haughty dispotion, and her chest mere inches from seething against his own now.

She could taste the poignancy of his despair that fragilized in his light blues, the acidity of his wrath, and the blazing of his anguish, yet shook her head despite it all gradually soaking into her chest, “Like who, Lieutenant Fick?”

He was a man that knew no fear until he met this woman. He had met every dread of his in her heedless behavior. Certainly, she tends to sprint into danger on more instances than he could count, but managed to extinguish every flame of danger that lurked as a menace to her each damn time. Numerous wondered, even him in some moments, where Y/N’s tenacity emanated from, yet it could never really be pinpointed. Yet, that was just another aspect of the cumbersome girl he had spent his army career attempting to unravel.

And Nate Fick is a gritty man. He has strived for a while to not get his feelings for her entangled in the requisite of war. Love doesn’t belong in a war, where there’s a constant dance with Satan that would desecrate anything as vulnerable as love. Yet, there it was, keen as ever despite the uncertainty of the next few minutes. He loved her like there wasn’t a war occurring.

“Like me,” he admitted with his mouth abandoning all moisture for an arid wasteland of desert like his surroundings.

His whole mewl of a rant moments prior had fucked things up for sure. Even as he was blustering and calling into question her competence, he was aware how he was stirring an unspoken pot of exasperation between them. But she had scared him that morning. And Nate Fick thought himself a fool whenever he fussed in fright over something — someone. But, as he flanked position in the aforementioned dogfight with his own men, his peripheral — keen as always — had caught her dropping to the ground after a deluge of bullets mangled the metal of the humvee she had tucked herself behind. He had been certain that he had just bystanded her death and nearly got himself shot in the abyss of numbness that bittered his nerves.

“Well, of course, because who else would you bitch to about every damn problem you have?” she eclipsed his concern and amused the response, “Anyone else would simply kiss your ass and agree with your complaints — you’d never get your desired response and then the cycle repeats itself. I may as well be your therapist!”

“Would you just shut up?!” Nate let her have it, tearing into her steadfast role of a bitter disputer, eyes temporarily locking with her own.

Any other soldier at the brunt of his outburst would flinch, unravel in whatever mock confidence they tossed between them at the start of the quarrel. She was a pistol of a woman, and there is everything right with that as could be for regard to her character. You fired at her, you could be damn certain you’d get fired at in return.

“Are you issuing an order to me, lieutenant?” She ventured a step between their already existing close proximity, “Someone of your own rank that you’re belittling on account of your questioning of my sanity? Well, let me deal you back a taste of your own medicine — I question you on your clear defiency to keep a cool head whenever something, involving me, occurs and you lose your temper! The line between your professional life and whatever personal thing you have festering in your mind is blurring, lieutenant. And I question if you can execute your rank’s duties appropriately...”

“You make it rather difficult to when you stick your ass in every dangerous situation that comes wandering your way,” he ruefully sighed, abating his zealous tone and plucking her elbow to shift them into a quieter corner away from probing eyes. And, much to his surprise, she permitted the abrupt veering off and the linger of his hand on the bend of her elbow.

“And why is it so difficult?” she aligned her tone with his own, still a searing and acrimonious murmur in the shaded corner.

Nate’s frustration tensed with a clench of his jaw, eyes drowning with something deviating between anger and lust — the latter glimmer being one she regarded before he was even genuinely aware it had erupted to the surface. And her heart fluttered.

“You know why,” he indifferently stated, words slicing rather than tumbling through the dry air.

A hollow feeling bloomed at the center of her chest almost immediately as the words registered quicker than she would’ve preferred.

“Nate,” there was no agitation in her voice as if her heart beat so steadily now, the pistol-shot flare diminishing beneath a vulnerable facade. Certainly, she knew. She’d be daft to beat around the bush of his implications — the connotations of their intimate, clandestine relationship. “If the others — if our superiors — found out...”

“It’s been a year and they’re none the wiser,” Nate tread a few fingers through her messy, disheveled hair, her breathing almost instantaneously steadying with the slight yanks at the stray tufts of her ponytail brushing her neck. They rebounded to a silence with balanced inhales of arid desert air for a few moments, the din of adjacent soldiers in their makeshift tents curving around the flaps of the one they concealed behind. She glimpsed briefly through the heavy brush of her lashes, pressing a whisper of a kiss on his lips, lingering there with the ardor igniting her veins and no doubt his, defusing the ticking bomb of fury from minutes prior.

“Now, is there a reason why you’re blushing so profusely like that?” she mused with a curl of smirk in their departure from the kiss, her fingertips skimming the camoed cloth of the rear of his helmet while amused eyes adored the earnest crimson of his cheeks.

Nate chuckled with an eye roll spared for her radiating levity, his spur of mirth hindered by the dispute that anchored in the abyss of his stomach, “You could have died, you know.” He is vulnerable now, novel territory for Nate Fick to venture into, and he's found himself astray in the shallow waters of a defenseless position.

“You would’ve done the same,” she uttered through a throat she could’ve sworn was temporarily haboring jagged rock shards, “Besides, we both know that I’m not a damsel in distress needing you to swoop in as if you always need to do something to save me. I’m a damsel doing damage a majority of the time ‘round here.”

“Unfortunately,” Nate chuckled wryly, “And you leave it all to me to clean up.”

“It’s rather entertaining to watch — for everyone.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

[charbax]

A Conversation with Death

Long ago, Tobias Foxtrot made a gamble. Decades later, a man called Malcolm Graves makes the same bet. A spoopy Hallowing AU for TF/Graves.

A/N: Warnings for blood and injury. Title came from an American folk song of the same name. I'm particularly fond of Jen Titus ''O death' version, as I had listened to it A LOT while writing this. Yes, it's from Supernatural. No, I've never seen the show, but I know Enough to meme on it. 

Link to AO3 here!!

-

O’ Death,

Won’t you spare me over another year?

Well what is this, that I can’t see?

With icy hands, getting hold of me?

Well I am Death, none can excel,

I open the door to Heaven or Hell.

Time was difficult to parse in the Mist, but when its darkened edges started ebbing and flowing beyond the isles’ shores, he knew it was that time of the year, when the sun’s eclipse was starting, and the Mist’s power became more powerful with the waning daylight. There was nothing else to do but follow it across the seas.

As it crept over the dark waves, he can feel himself gathering, solidifying, taking form of his favoured gambler’s coat and adorned hat. His deck of cards manifested in his hand as well, the wails and screams singing sweetly between his fingertips as he twirled a card. When he finally manifested, he glanced down and saw a rowboat, missing its oars. In it was a man lying on his back with his arms slack at his sides, as if he was in a coffin, but blood bloomed on his shirt instead of flowers. The spectre only gave him a once-over – no use if the man was already gone – but before he moved on, he saw the chest rise and fine, however minutely.

Ah, so this one’s a fighter. This would make an excellent addition to his collection.

He let himself descend onto the lip of the boat and perched gracefully, not even causing the smallest of rocking. The man must’ve sensed the cold of the spirit, because he cracked open an eye to peer at the ghost. “If you’re here to take me back to jail,” He rasped. “Then you’ll have to take me back in a casket.”

Twisted Fate allowed a chuckle. "No mortal, but a worse fate befalls you, for you are in the Black Mists of Shadow Isles."

"Reckoned normal fog doesn't look this dark and menacing." He drawled back.

"Still so full of spark. You're taking this dying thing very well."

A grimaced shrug. "My life can't get any weirder than talking to a ghost right now."

Oh, he liked this one. Most mortals would've started cowering in terror by now, or begging for their lives. This man, however, had grumbled and glared out at him, as if Twisted Fate had simply disturbed his drink at the bar instead of coming to claim his soul. The spectre said, "I like you mortal. What's your name?"

The man narrowed his eyes, but answered regardless, "Graves. Malcolm Graves."

"A fitting name, Malcolm Graves. Would you like to make a wager?"

Graves' brow furrowed, but his beady eyes glittered. "...what kind?"

"A game of aces. You win, you get a life of riches beyond your imagination.  I win, I get to keep your soul for eternity."  He extended a hand. "We got a deal?"

Graves eyed the hand, then T.F's face, before cautiously shaking it. "On one condition: you tell me your name."

Fair enough. "I am Twisted Fate now." He pulled back, helping Graves to sit up. Wisps of glowing light left their palms, the residue vitality fading into the night like fireflies. It wasn't enough to save him, no, just enough that he could breathe and play without doubling over in pain. It showed on Graves' face when he sat upright proper with only minimal wincing. Twisted Fate sat down on the opposite bench and set out his cards between them, souls crying out ever so sweetly. A taste of Graves' doom.

"So," Twisted Fate started. "Feelin' lucky?"

-

"Feeling lucky?"

Tobias Foxtrot shivered - he was only allowed a small raft and the clothes on his back when he was exiled, which was no match for the autumn sea's turbulent  winds. Gooseflesh rippled along his skin, but at least, trying to comfort himself, it was from the cold night, and not from the apparition in front of him, holding out a pack of cards. Tobias took them with forced languidness. "I've got shuffling rights, I presume?"

The spectre nodded. Tobias' nimble fingers made quick work of the deck before he dealt them out, grinning with bravado he didn't feel.

-

"You do this for every man you run into?" Graves muttered, breaking the silence.

It had been an interesting few minutes since the cards had been dealt and they looked at their respective hands. A few quiet minutes too, only with minimal grunting or hums from either of them. Plenty of staring though, as Fate eyed over the man currently frowning at the set of cards. He was rough, beard and moustache grown uncontempt, but Fate assumed it had once been groomed into something magnificent, once upon a time. His clothes were in disarray as well, bloodstains aside. Simple and grey. Prison-clothes.

Anyways, he should be saying yes, when there's a soul to add to his growing collection. "Only for the handsome ones." Was what he said instead.

Graves glared from behind his fan of cards. "Did any of them win?"

"Now where would be the fun in telling you that?"

Graves drew a card and laid it down. "That only tells me that no-one did."

T.F hummed thoughtfully and decided to indulge. "No, there have been people. Rare occurrences, but occurrences nonetheless."

Graves frowned at that, his jaw grinding as if chewing an invisible cigar. Thinking tic or frustration tic?  Fate leaned on his open palm, smirking when he saw Graves' eyes follow the movement. "How do you like your odds?"

"Now," Graves started, one side of his impressive moustache twitching up. "Where would be the fun in telling you that?"

-

This was still winneable, Tobias thought to himself. Not desperately, of course, lest it show on his face.

The first card was a like start of a bad omen, or the first card in a terrible tarot spread. None of his cards, hidden or otherwise, would win him this round. With a sigh, he spread out his cards.

"Your hand's not looking good so far, Riverchild?" His opponent said.

Tobias scowled at both the offending cards and at the spectre. He hadn't been welcomed back to the river in years. "I don't take kindly to that title. I'm not one, not anymore."

"There's a story behind that I'd imagine."

"There is. Doesn't mean I'm mighty wanting to retell it."

A whisper of laughter, in the wind or from the ghost sitting opposite of him? "Then what would you like to be referred to as then?"

Tobias looked at him in the ghastly, sunken, eyes. "The man who outplayed death."

-

It was close now - Twisted Fate can feel the Black Mist starting its ebb back to the Isles' moors. That, and their scores were currently neck to neck, down to the last hand of the last round. Twisted Fate didn't have much time left before the Harrowing was over. Amazing, that hours seemed to have flown by like seconds, interspersed with quips and jabs, each one more lighter than the last. By the end, they have been grinning like old friends, or perhaps, partners in the cahoots, and an idea was forming in T.F's mind, as solid and sharp as the card hidden in his sleeve.

For now, he hid his smirk behind his fan of cards. "So it comes down to this then. Y'trust your hand?"

Graves' eyes met his own straight on. "As much as you trust your own."

The fog watches, a shapeless audience, humming with excitement. At the exact same time, they laid down their cards.

Twisted Fate's smirk fell off his face as he stared not one, but two aces, one on each side. He and Graves glanced at each other in righteous surprise.

"I'd say one of us is a right scoundrel." Twisted Fate said, but his voice held no accusation, only mirth.

Suddenly, Graves' arm shot forward, gripping T.F's arm. The ace slipped out of the card sharp's sleeve before he could catch himself.

"Ha!" Graves said with triumph. "You're a cheat!"

With deft fingers, Fate pulled into Graves' sleeve to pull out an offending card. "Takes one to know one then."

They stared at each other in a silent contest of wills, their faces close enough for their breaths to mingle in the cold air. The fog grew even thicker around them in anticipation, like the captive spectators leaning forwards in their seats to see who would throw the first punch. There was no sound except for the lapping of water against the boat.

Then T.F tossed his head back and laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed.

When it finally died down, Graves was looking at him in curious suspicion.

"No-one's ever tried to out-trick the trickster." Twisted Fate wheezed out.  He was still grinning. "So I suppose we both won. I get to keep your soul,"

"Now wait a minute-"

"And you get your wealth."

Graves' bushy eyebrows knitted together oh so lovely as he frowned. "I'm not getting it."

"Oh, you will eventually." Twisted Fate said. He pulled Graves closer again, slipping his ace from his sleeve.

Then with it, he neatly sliced Graves' throat.

He didn't even make it hurt like he normally would - he gently laid Graves down as the man gurgled out blood and indignation, cradling his head like a lover's. Graves managed to look angry even as the life bled of him, as if he was simply annoyed about the situation rather than fearful, and Fate simply smiled back at him. As the light faded from Graves' dark eyes, emerald-coloured wisp floated from his lips, curling around the bloodied card, glowing intently for a moment, before fading into a dull shine. Fate grinned down at it, then tucked it into his vest's breast pocket.

The night was almost over. He could feel it in the way the fog rolled back towards the the Black Isles, the inevitable pull on every particle like a thousand strings, the way the other beings of the Harrowing howled their way back home. Just like them, he twirled a different card now between his fingers, spinning it faster and faster, until the air threatened to snap underneath the pressure.

And then he was gone.

-

Tobias stared at the other ace, a perfect copy down to the wear and tear on the fraying edges. The waters were still now, as smooth as glass, and the fog was glancing off it like smoke. Tobias didn't even dare to breathe as he watched for the spectre's  reaction.

He might be worse than dead.

The ghost continued staring at the twin Aces as Tobias continued holding his breath. Then, the spectre spoke,

"It seems that we have both won and lost."

Tobias gulped. The apparition ignored it. "I'm a man of my word," He continued. "You'll get your riches well enough."

Tobias frowned. "At the cost of my life? Doesn't sound worth it, if I'm not alive to enjoy them."

"There's  a different type of riches than you know of, mortal." The  phantom grinned and raised his scythe. "And you will have all of time to know them."

-

He was getting better at telling when it was the Harrowing time. He was faster at solidifying himself this time, managing to complete his form just as the moon peeked over the horizon on the seas. His pack of cards flicked themselves over his fingers, more reassuring than any rosary beads, as he watched, and waited.

Soon enough, another form materialised next to him. It may have been a year, but it would take much longer for him to forget that furry frown when the other spirit formed next to him.

"Damned cold here." Graves grumbled. He chose to wear a nice, thick serape, in a deep red. He fiddled with his cigar, lighting it, and it shone like a beacon in the dark. "Is it like this every year?"

"Stick around and find out." Twisted Fate answered back. Already, he could feel the edges of the mist creeping over the waves, further than last year's. T.F made to follow them, then turned around to face the other apparition. "You comin'?"

Graves shrugged. "Got nothin' better to do than scam a few mortals of their lives, do I?"

"It's always better with a partner in crime." Twisted Fate smirked, extending his hand. After a moment, Graves grinned at him and took it. And together they made their way to the unfortunates lost in the Black Mist.

Because after all, what was more valuable than a soul?

-

The old, the young, the rich or poor All alike to me you know. No wealth, no land, no silver no gold Nothing satisfies me but your soul.

O, Death, Won't you spare me over til another year?