#I rarely write this much about my personal life on here huh

[plasmahallucigenia]

rare solo tradi post, hehe

this is from a recent sketchbook. I swear I fill up sketchbooks like its my job LOL but yes! these are some colorful fritz paintings (generally of him being in distress) I was testing watercolor to see how the sketchbook would hold up its passable.

I don't have too much to comment but I will say J just really like these pages, thats as much as I can say. trying to get more comfortable with my new sketchbook because I can feel much hesitation, I struggle a lot with perfectionism and every now and then it creeps back up but im trying to let loose, trust me

[jhoneybees]

heyyy there! I was wondering if you could maybe write a fluff piece with BDE and a reader who always manages to sneak up on him except it’s on accident? Like, she doesn’t realize how stealth or quiet she really is? Thank you!

Hi!! I am so so sorry I have made you wait this long but it's complete!! My wonderful friend @elvisbdoll has written this and I am so grateful😭 I'm having a bit of a writer's block moment right now so please enjoy this amazing fic.

Quiet.

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X Quiet!reader

Warnings/triggers: Sneaking up on people, getting spooked

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @hooked-on-elvis @polksaladava

Author's note: Thank you so much @elvisbdoll for writing this for me, you're literally a life saver. I got stressed lovelies- I got stressed😩 All credits go to her🫶

_____________________________________________

Elvis Presley leaned back in his plush leather chair, his fingers idly strumming the strings of his guitar. The room was warm with the faint hum of the air conditioner, the kind of quiet that settled in after the excitement of rehearsal. His band had called it a night, and he was enjoying a rare moment of solitude in Graceland’s den.

It wasn’t often Elvis got time to himself these days, but he cherished it when it came. The house was rarely empty, even with the Memphis Mafia around, but the quiet felt different now that she was here.

You.

You’d come into his life like a sweet summer breeze, quiet and unassuming, but somehow always managing to catch him off guard—literally. You were the only person who could sneak up on Elvis Presley.

And it wasn’t intentional. You just had a natural way of moving without making a sound. It wasn’t unusual for Elvis to be deep in thought, only to find you standing behind him with a soft smile, scaring him half to death.

Like now.

Elvis jumped, the twang of his guitar string cutting through the room as he spun around in his chair. There you stood in the doorway, holding a cup of tea like it was the most innocent thing in the world.

“Sweetheart!” he exclaimed, his voice startled but affectionate. “Are you tryin’ to give me a heart attack?”

You blinked, looking genuinely confused. “What do you mean? I just walked in.”

Elvis set the guitar down and shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Darlin’, I didn’t hear you. Not a footstep, not a creak, nothin’. You’re like a little ghost or somethin’.”

“I’m not a ghost!” you protested with a laugh, stepping closer to hand him the tea.

He took the cup, his fingers brushing yours as his blue eyes locked onto you. “Maybe not a ghost, but you’re quiet as a mouse. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were doin’ it on purpose.”

“I’d never sneak up on you on purpose,” you said, your voice soft but earnest. “I guess I’m just… quiet.”

“Quiet? You’re downright stealthy,” Elvis teased, taking a sip of the tea. “You’d make a damn good spy, y’know that?”

You rolled your eyes, plopping down on the couch opposite him. “A spy, huh? I think I’d be terrible at keeping secrets.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward. “Maybe not. You’ve got that sweet face. No one would suspect a thing.”

You laughed, the sound light and musical, and Elvis felt his chest tighten in that familiar way it always did around you. He loved your laugh. Loved the way it lit up a room, even if you were the quietest person he’d ever met.

Still grinning, you asked, “Do I really scare you that much?”

“Scare me? Honey, you’d scare the devil himself the way you sneak up on people. I’m tellin’ you, one of these days you’re gonna give me gray hairs.”

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think gray hairs would suit you.”

Elvis barked out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

The two of you fell into an easy conversation after that, the kind that felt like second nature. Elvis told you about the new songs he was working on, and you shared little stories from your day. He loved the way you talked, the way your voice was soft and soothing, like a balm to his restless mind.

But as the night wore on, Elvis couldn’t help but notice how often you managed to surprise him.

A few days later, Elvis was in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge for a late-night snack. The house was mostly quiet, save for the faint sound of the television from another room. He was humming to himself, a tune he’d been working on earlier, when he felt a presence behind him.

“Jesus H. Christ!” he exclaimed, spinning around to find you standing there, your wide eyes betraying your guilt.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, holding up your hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Elvis pressed a hand to his chest, his heart racing. “Darlin’, you’ve got to start makin’ some noise when you walk. Wear a bell around your neck or somethin’.”

“A bell?” you repeated, laughing.

“Yeah, a bell. Or tap shoes. Hell, I don’t care, as long as I can hear you comin’.”

You smirked, stepping closer to peek into the fridge. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

“Midnight snack,” he said, his voice still a little breathless. “And don’t think you’re gettin’ away with sneakin’ up on me again. I’m keepin’ an eye on you from now on.”

True to his word, Elvis started paying more attention whenever you were around, determined not to let you sneak up on him. But it didn’t matter how hard he tried—you were just naturally quiet.

[dovesdreaming]

Sunshine and shadows

Summary: Harry finds sunshine embodied in you, the daughter of hades, the most unlikely person. He can’t seem to turn his attention away from you.

Masterlist

Requested

A/N: I’ve been away from this account for so long I came back to so many notifications 😅 but I’m going to try writing on here again as much as life will allow me to! Sorry for any comments, messages, requests and anything else I missed <3

-

The Isle of the Lost wasn’t a place for brightness. It thrived on shadows, trickery, and sharp edges. People there didn’t smile unless they were up to something and no one radiated happiness unless they were completely mad. So when Harry Hook first laid eyes on you, standing in the middle of the marketplace with a beaming smile as you haggled with a vendor, he immediately assumed one thing: you had to be some sort of con artist.

“Yer not from ‘round here, are ye?” he asked, his pirate accent thick as he stepped into your line of sight. You turned to him, your grin widening. “I am from here. Born and raised! But I don’t hang around the marketplace much. I usually stick to the Underworld with my dad”. “The Underworld, aye?” Harry raised an eyebrow, the hand holding his hook resting on his belt. “And who’s yer dad, then?” “Hades” you replied cheerfully, like you hadn’t just dropped the name of one of the most powerful villains ever.

Harry blinked, taken aback. You didn’t look like the daughter of the god of the dead. Your hair shimmered with light streaks, your clothes were colorful, and your demeanor was so warm that it felt like standing under a sunny sky. “Yer joking” You giggled. “Nope! I guess I don’t exactly fit the family aesthetic, huh?” You twirled a strand of hair around your finger and shrugged. “Dad says I’m a ‘walking paradox’”. Harry didn’t know what to say to that, which was rare for him. Instead, he watched as you paid the vendor no threats, no trickery, just a genuine thank-you and skipped off, humming a tune as you left the marketplace. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you after that.

The next time Harry saw you, it was by chance or so he told himself. You were perched on the steps of the dilapidated school building, flipping through a tattered book. The sunlight managed to filter through the grime-streaked windows, making you look like you were glowing. “Ye always this cheerful, or are ye just puttin’ on a show?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You looked up and smiled. “I’m always like this. It drives most people here crazy”. “I can see why” he muttered, though his lips twitched upward.

You tilted your head, studying him with curious eyes. “What about you? You don’t seem like the brooding type. You’ve got that whole pirate swagger going on, but I bet you’re secretly a softie”.

Harry barked out a laugh. “A softie? Me? Lass, I’ve been runnin’ this Isle since I was old enough to hold a sword”. “Maybe” you said, unconvinced. “But I think you’re nicer than you let on”. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Ye don’t know me”. “Not yet” you said brightly, and that was the moment Harry realized you weren’t just another Isle kid. You were different, dangerously so.

The two of you started spending more time together. At first, Harry convinced himself it was because he was curious about you, nothing more. But then he found himself looking forward to your impromptu visits, your endless optimism, and the way you seemed to see something good in him that no one else did. You’d drag him to the docks and point out shapes in the clouds, much to his annoyance. “That one looks like a ship!” you exclaimed one afternoon, lying on your back with your head resting on his lap. “It looks like nothin’” he replied, but his hand absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair. “Come on, use your imagination!”

“Pirates don’t use imagination, lass. We deal in facts”. You pouted, sitting up and poking him in the chest. “Well, you’re missing out”. Harry chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could poke him again. “Yer impossible, ye know that?” “And yet, here you are” you teased, leaning closer. He couldn’t argue with that.

As time went on, Harry found himself drawn to your warmth like a moth to a flame. You had a way of making the darkness of the Isle seem just a little brighter, and he couldn’t get enough of it. One night, you snuck into Ursula’s Fish & Chips to surprise him after a long day of work. “Lass, what’re ye doin’ here?” he asked, though his tone lacked any real annoyance. You held up a small bag. “I made cookies! Well, I tried to make cookies. They’re a little burnt, but they still taste okay!” Harry stared at you, completely dumbfounded. “Ye baked? For me?” “Of course!” you said, grinning. “You’re my best friend. Well, maybe more than a best friend…” He froze, his mind racing. “More?” You suddenly looked shy, which was a rare sight. “I mean… I like you. A lot. I figured you already knew that, though”.

Harry blinked, your words sinking in. He wasn’t used to people being so open about their feelings, let alone toward him. But as he looked at your hopeful expression, he realized he felt the same way. “Yer somethin’ else, sunshine” he said, pulling you into a hug. “And for the record, I like ye too”.

From that moment on, Harry was completely smitten. He’d never admit it out loud, but he adored how you balanced out his rough edges. You challenged him to see the world differently, and in return, he made sure you always felt safe and protected. Whenever someone on the Isle teased you for being too cheerful, Harry would step in, hook glinting in the light. “Say another word, and ye’ll be dealin’ with me”.

And when Harry’s temper got the best of him, you were there to calm him down with a gentle touch and a reassuring smile. “You’re not as scary as you think you are” you’d tease, and he’d roll his eyes, but your words always softened him. The two of you were an unlikely pair, a pirate and a ray of sunshine, but together, you made the Isle a little brighter and a lot more interesting. And Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Chapter 5

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Victor: It’s time we re-evaluated your duties!

Kate: W-whoa!

Victor made a grand announcement as soon as I opened the door to his office. Surprised and confused, I stepped in.

Victor: Now, please take a seat. This is a very important task ahead of us.

Kate: Um, thank you?

Victor pulled out my usual chair. Holding back my questions, I sat down. He took his seat across from me with a serious look on his face. With his elbows on the table, he laced his fingers together.

Victor: Kate, I’ve been thinking for a while.

I swallowed nervously. Seconds passed in silence. And then, as he drew in a deep breath, Victor spread his hands wide.

Victor: Aren’t you doing far too much work!?

Kate: …Huh?

I couldn’t help the noise of confusion that left my mouth when I heard the exact opposite of what I was expecting. Still looking deadly serious, Victor continued passionately.

Victor: What exactly are your current duties!?

Kate: Um… I accompany Crown on missions and record what happens, and I also help you with your work here.

Victor: That’s right, your work even includes that now!

Kate: Uh…

(Well, I didn’t set out intending to become Victor’s assistant…)

Recording what happened during Crown’s missions were my duties as Fairytale Keeper. But the main reason I began helping Victor with his work was because I wanted to learn more about him.

(But it’s not as if it’s really difficult or anything…)

Normally it only took an hour to finish, maybe two or three at the most. And on top of that, having half an hour to an hour of break for tea time here in the office had already become a part of my daily routine.

Victor: Maybe you yourself don’t see it, but I think you’re already doing more than enough work.

Kate: But I think you have a lot more work than I do…

Victor: I’m fine. It’s to be expected as Her Majesty’s aide, after all.

I’ve seen how much work VIctor has to do each and every day. I doubted that there was anyone else who worked as hard as he did. Even during his rare days off, he was always thinking about Crown’s matters. It was like even his private life had become entirely consumed by work.

Victor: By now, you’ve already been on a mission with everyone in Crown, haven’t you?

Kate: Yes, that’s right. But only when you requested that I join them.

I’d never been on a mission outside of the ones where Victor requested my presence. So that’s why I didn’t feel like I’d been doing too much. However…

Victor: I was wondering whether it was time you became someone’s personal Fairytale Keeper.

Kate: A personal Fairytale Keeper?

Victor: Isn’t it overwhelming if you have to join everyone on their missions, and write reports on all of them? Victor: I had thought it was a good idea. However…

Kate: Victor?

Victor: Ah, it’s nothing.

There was a slight pain in Victor’s expression. He slowly opened his mouth to continue, as though it was hurting him to speak.

Victor: It’s just that it might make it difficult for you to come by so often to help me, so I realized how lonely I’d be.

(He really thinks that?)

Kate: I’d also be lonely if we stopped doing this.

Though I found VIctor’s behavior cute, I also felt the same way. I figured I should tell him directly. Although I hadn’t been doing this for very long, this routine with Victor had already become a comfort to me.

(When I go on missions with Crown, I learn more and more about the injustice that exists in the world. And every time, I wonder just what it is that I can do.) (I keep trying to face forward and meet things head on, but I can’t help but think that…)

Every time I witnessed another tragedy, I felt the urge to do something. But the knowledge of how little I could do haunted me.

(That’s why the time I spend with Victor is so important to me.)

Even though I didn’t speak about it, maybe Victor noticed something anyway. He never asked me about the missions in any detail when I’m in his office.

Kate: I want to keep going on missions with Crown as Fairytale Keeper, and I also want to keep working with you. Kate: Is that alright?

I must have looked nervous. With a conflicted smile, Victor opened his mouth.

Victor: If that is what you wish. Victor: But if it’s ever too much, you must let me know immediately, okay?

Kate: I will. Thank you.

With that discussion done, I got ready to start working. However…

Victor: But you really have been working too hard lately. You should rest for today.

He stood up and headed for his desk.

Victor: You stayed up late last night researching to prepare for the mission you’re going on with William, didn’t you? Victor: You’re doing more than anyone asked of you. So rest your wings a while.

Kate: But-

(Isn’t there a lot to do today?)

As I was about to ask Victor that, he firmly shook his head.

Victor: Take it as a personal request from me.

He looked at me with puppy-dog eyes, everything about him radiating cuteness. I felt my heart skip a beat.

Victor: Pretty please?

(I’m sure if Jude or Harrison were here, they’d call this gross and tell VIctor to stop acting like a child.) (But there’s no way I can say no to that face…)

Victor was normally the ever-reliable man of a hundred talents. Seeing him act like this hit me right in the heart.

(I can’t rule out that he knows I’m weak to this kind of thing, but still…)

His eyes were practically sparkling. The gap between now and his normal behavior made my pulse race in my ears.

(I know he’s messing with me, but I’m still going to say yes anyway.)

Kate: Fine, I will.

Victor: Excellent! Have a good rest.

I gave him a nod as he waved goodbye to me, and left his office. Dark clouds hung in the sky outside.

-----

William: So you knew he was manipulating you, and you still lost.

Kate: “Lost” is a strong word… But… yeah…

We were seated at the upper floor of the theater. I kept my eyes on the stage and my voice low as I spoke with William. He looked amused as he rested his chin on one hand and similarly kept his eyes on the performance. Young, beautiful actresses were performing on the stage. However, their acting skills were still quite rough. It was pretty obvious that they were all new to the stage. Today’s mission was to approach the women under the pretext of becoming their patrons, Investigate to see if they were potential targets of human trafficking, and collect solid evidence if so. Sitting in the box across from us was the suspect, an aristocrat who was eyeing the women on stage with a cigar in hand.

William: Victor knows that look works on you. William: He’s not one to put on the cute act otherwise.

Kate: I know…

On stage, the actress’ eyes sparkled with excitement.

That there could exist a future where that brightness would end up snatched away was unforgivable.

(According to William, the theater staff are all also accomplices. None of them should escape justice either.) (We have to do something before things get worse.)

Before their eyes, so brilliant in the pursuit of their dreams and belief in the future, clouded over. Maybe I was getting more worked up than usual because these actresses were performing on the stage that I held so dear, and they were similar in age to me.

William: I won’t need to be that forceful. But I will pass judgment on that man, and everyone else involved, before these women become victims.

Kate: That’s a relief to hear.

My eyes darted back to our target. He was whispering to someone who looked like he was one of the involved theater staff.

William: Seems that things are moving quickly.

The staff member briefly left, and when he returned, he had a piece of paper in his hand.

Kate: That’s…

William: A sales contract.

The target scribbled on the contract with a quill pen, then withdrew a check from his pocket. He exchanged it for the contract, and then the staff member left once more.

William: It’s time for our mission to begin.

Applause filled the theater as the curtains drew to a close. Seeing our target stand, we also stood.

William: We’ll seize the contract from the target as planned.

Kate: Got it.

We exited the main stage area before our target did, and made sure to stand apart from each other as we walked down the corridor. As the suspect appeared, William called out to him.

William: You’ve left awfully early. Are you not staying for the curtain call?

Target: Lord Rex! To think I’d meet you here.

Distracted by William, the target didn’t notice me hiding behind him.

Target: Well, the acting was quite poor, if you’ll forgive me for saying so. Target: I wasn’t in the mood to watch for much longer.

William: I’d prefer to say that those actresses still have room to grow.

Target: Ah yes, that’s right. It’s–

As he was getting drawn into the conversation, I approached the target from behind, and bumped into him.

Kate: Oh, I’m sorry!

Target: What do you think you’re doing?

Kate: I’m so sorry, I was going to the restroom and I got turned around.

As I lied shamelessly, William brushed his hand across the target’s coat.

William: Oh my, you have something stuck there.

Target: Do I? Where?

As the target was distracted by trying to check his coat, I saw my chance and reached for the target’s inner pocket. It wasn’t difficult to steal the contract.

William: It’s alright, I’ve got it.

Target: Thank you very much. And as for you-

I kept the contract hidden behind my back as the man glared at me. William spoke up.

William: If she hadn’t bumped into you, I wouldn’t have noticed the dirt stuck to your coat. William: Thank you, miss.

You’re welcome.

I’m sorry for bumping into you. (+4/+4)

Smile awkwardly.

Kate: I’m sorry for bumping into you, sir.

Target: …I’ll let you off just this once.

William: The restroom is that way, miss. You can’t miss it. William: Well then, we shall be leaving first. William: Do be careful. And now, if you’ll excuse us.

Kate: Thank you very much.

After making sure both the target and William were gone, I started running in the other direction. Stashing the contract deep in my purse, I left through the emergency exit.

(I’m glad it worked.)

When William suggested that I steal the contract while he distract the target, I was nervous whether I’d be able to do it. But everything had gone according to plan. I felt my shoulders drop as the tension bled out of me. However, the mission wasn’t over yet.

(It’s not over until I rendezvous with William and we return to the castle!)

If we didn’t return with the evidence, then the entire mission would be pointless. My hands tightened around the strap of my purse and I steeled myself.

Kate: …Alright.

The plan was to sneak around to the other side of the theater through the alleyways, meet William, and then take a carriage back to the castle. If I head straight to the meeting point with no delays, it’s only a few minutes away. Even though this was an alleyway, there were plenty of people passing by out in front. I’d been told that it was a safe area, but still…

(It’s better to hurry.)

The silence was starting to get to me, so I took another deep breath to calm down and started walking faster. Just a little while ago, I was regularly navigating alleys like these to make my deliveries. But maybe because it’s been a while since I’d walked around by myself, I was starting to feel nervous. My hands tightened again around my purse. I was always supposed to be accompanied by someone from Crown if I left the castle. At first, I had thought of it as a way to keep me in line. But as I’d gotten to know Crown better and realize that they were protecting me, they began to feel more like escorts than wardens.

(And Victor always makes me feel the safest.)

He always had a kind word ready, and a gentle look. Whether he acted cheerfully or adorably, Spending time with Victor always made me relaxed. It made me happy.

(Maybe it’s because Victor always puts others first.)

Every time I noticed a small act of consideration from Victor, it filled my heart with warmth. This level of care must be why he’s able to succeed in his role as the queen’s aide.

(...I really want to see him.)

Tomorrow, in his office. When I open the door, he’ll be waiting for me with a soft smile. And he’d ask me: “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

(When I get back, I’ll write up my report immediately and hand it to him first thing tomorrow morning.)

While I was daydreaming, I checked to make sure no one else was walking down this alley, but–

(Huh?)

I saw the fluttering of black hair disappear around a corner deeper into the alleyways.

Kate: Victor?

Although I only caught a glimpse of him, that was unmistakably Victor.

(What is he doing here?)

I found myself turning to follow him, drawn in by how much I had wanted to meet him. I approached slowly. Voices echoed in the alley, and Victor’s was among them.

Victor: –evil.

I heard the sound of groaning, and I hurriedly rounded the corner.

(...What…?)

The sight of several people sprawled on the ground met my eyes. They had their hands wrapped tightly around their own necks, rapturous expressions on their faces. They were dead.

Kate: Ah… wha-

In response to the shock I couldn’t contain, Victor spun around, illuminated by the light of the moon. The eyes that met mine were impossibly cold, almost inhuman. My voice died in my throat as I realized… …I knew nothing. I was just a little robin, kept safe and ignorant inside a cushion-lined cage.

[meanbossart]

Sorry if you answered this, I did go through your asks a bit but didn't find an answer and I was just curious if you have any lore regarding the drow and Orin? Does he have, like, any thoughts regarding her as a pseudo-sister or she is just a henchmen that stabbed him in the back? Or like, regarding the fact it was her betrayal that got him out from the cult and eventually meeting Astarion and the gang? I feel a lot of people sanitize the Durge a little too much (which fair reaction, they are very fucked up in the game 😂) so I love hearing about people who have their durge lean on their violent weirdness

Huh! I guess it's been a minute since we've talked about Orin. Yes, their relationship was very significant and you should be able to find all that I've written and drawn with/about her here (save for anything I forgot to tag, which happens sometimes, lol.)

Also as a side note to everyone, please abstain from making comments about how other people choose to write their Durges (and Astarion for that matter) in my askbox, it is rarely (If ever) necessary.

Anyways, I guess this is a good opportunity to try and put it all down cohesively, so here we go:

DU drow came into the Bhaal temple at ages 17-19, he had lived a profoundly isolated life up until that point where his only constant companion would have been the lackey Sceleritas and, for a time, a horse. He had no friends, no companions, and killed the one woman he lost his virginity to the day after he met her. Sarevok and the rest of the Bhaalists taking him might have been a mockery of a family unit, but it was the closest he ever had to it nonetheless - and by far the one person in it that he felt the closest to was Orin, who was close to him in age and in that moment in time occupied a similar place in the temple's hierarchy as himself.

It's important to note here that when I say they were close, I'm talking about a closeness befitting of Bhaalspawn. They didn't share any good times; they had bad times together. And they enjoyed it to the extent that two profoundly dysfunctional young adults groomed to become murderous deities can. There was no tenderness here, feeling was expressed through violence and vulnerability wasn't only discouraged, it straight up wasn't practiced or even conceptualized in either of their heads. They killed together, mocked one-another, and hurt each other on the regular, and it's through those actions that they saw each other.

And yet, DU drow felt a burning limerence towards her from the moment he laid eyes on Orin, and this feeling never faltered, only grew. Orin cut off his matted hair in a careless, uneven slice of a blade, she pulled out his rotting molars with rusty pliers, she mocked his stink and resented his arrival (dare I say she was afraid, because she knew what it meant) but they had much more in common than they had in difference. This was a silent understanding, a screaming fact of life that led to them often gravitating towards each other in both packed and empty rooms, but never once discussed aloud.

I have no doubt that what would eventually become this Rabid, burning crush and later obsession of the drow's towards Orin is a result of their continous Isolation. The rest of the world was beneath them and temporary, and above was only Sarevok and Bhaal. Because of this, DU drow never once thought or desired to search for companionship and love anywhere besides for her, and so he started to see her not only as the vague concept of a sister, but also as his only option for a mate and wife, one which he embraced wholeheartedly (and that's putting it lightly).

Orin, on the other hand, had no such desires. Not to mention that her fear of being replaced and the implied consequences of it always spoke louder than any genuine feelings of comradery.

As DU drow ascended in the ranks and became head of the cult, those fears solidified in several ways. Not only did Sarevok favor him and she could feel herself being pushed aside, but DU drow's ego grew tenfold. What was once a quiet young man who saw himself as an equal to her became a self-righteous bhaalspawn who lavished in his role and all the boons that came with it. DU drow took everything he had acquired for granted, including her, whom he assumed would eventually succumb and become his romantic partner.

It didn't help that Sarevok subtly encouraged this partnership, thinking that through their children they could continue to produce bhaalspawn of a purer and more efficient pedigree.

Ironically, DU drow's disillusions went so far that he never once in his life thought Orin would turn against him, and as much of an egomaniac as he became, his love for her was always genuine - misguided, but genuine, and he never once wished for her death until she betrayed him. Realizing this, as well as that Bhaal would only accept one chosen, she struck, putting the tadpole in his head and sending him off to Kressa.

[heartstringsduet]

Favorite Fandom moments (this got way too long who is surprised) Thanks for tagging me: @tellmegoodbye @nisbanisba @reyesstrand

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@she-walked-away @everlastingday @strandnreyes

1. I binged season 1-3 in December 2022 by myself. A fun fact about me, i HATE procedurals. Usually I can manage a few episodes and enjoy them and then I think the formula of episodic rescues/crime solving is too boring. I thought I could maybe stay for the hot gay dudes I saw on my dash. But I fell in love with so much more than that. I rarely have shows with ensamble casts where I genuinely really like all characters. Michelle is the only exception. Goddamn that woman should only play faeries for the rest of her life. And weirdly, something I appreciate is watching these three seasons all by myself. It allowed me to really take the episodes in without any outside opinions or controversies or even over-hyping through others. I loved the show all by myself. And though a part of me wishes I would have found it earlier, I find a lot of joy in having these three seasons locked deep in my own heart, just for me.

2. Okay after all that too long blabbering, of COURSE I have to say the friends I made. Friendship has always been my biggest source of joy. Always. And I'm so blessed to have so many friends in my life, and more blessed to add people on my dash to them. If we text sometimes/often/daily or I just like your personal posts, know that I really care for what you put out there. You all matter to me, and I mean that.

3. Meeting some of you peeps IRL. And hoping to expand the list 💓

4. Sending out Holiday cards. Truly, I love doing it so much, even if the production last year was stressful I hope this year people will still be here and be interested in getting my lil card. And ofc I loved the ones I got back.

5. How creative and wonderful this fandom is. We are quite smol, but look at the big things we create. 2022 was the toughest year of my life, and a lot of what followed was an ebb and flow mentally, but one thing thatr eally helped me was to be more creative. And I thank every one of you who has left comments or sweet tags or created something themselves that keeps me motivated.

6. The Hello! Rafa/Ronen photoshoot . Still lives in my head rent-free.

7. Having people beta-read my humble writing. It helps me a lot! Just like reading fics by people whose writing I admire (y'all basically).

8. Fandom events. Like Gotcha charity, but also the Holiday exchanges and the watch parties and the server and so many little things in the cosmos of this fandom.

9. Even the disagreements. Idk. Very family dynamic to me and I don't mean to downplay how marginalized people are affected by some of it. But you tell me you hate someone's outfit and I will lovingly side-eye you like a cousin. It kind of is necessary to the eco system of fandom to not all be harmonious.

10. Most of all, how welcoming this fandom was from the very beginning. I try to be part of that. If I ever annoy you with engaging with personal posts, that's why. I want you to feel heard.

OPEN TAG (please use it if you want to participate and tag me back so I see!)

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@alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk

@rangersoup @freneticfloetry @literateowl @firstprince-history-huh

@neversleepuntilfive @certifiedflower @ironheartwriter @henrygrass

@never-blooms @whatsintheboxmh @girlsnightout304 @bonheur-cafe

@lutavero @guardian-angle22 @toomanycupsoftea @actual-sleeping-beauty

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@liminalmemories21 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @chicgeekgirl89 @fitzherbertssmolder

[magicxc]

Sizes

Pairings: Survey Corps - their dick sizes

Word Count: 857

Warnings: none

A/N: this is so self indulgent, it aint even funny lol. Please enjoy what I think the bois are packing.

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren - 9.5 inches

Phew I mean, this doesn’t take too much explaining…at least for me. Eren legit had the gall to wipe out 80% of the population so I can only imagine that he has the balls to match. It’s safe to say our boy is all bark and bite cause he’s absolutely backing up whatever the fuck he says. Needless to say, you need to be PREPPED before penetration.

Levi - 6.5

As my personal favorite of the bunch, daddy Levi is absolutely still working with sumn, okay!!! Let's not count our short king out the race. Matter of fact, I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar that Levi is giving you THEE best seggs. As fun as size kinks are, let's be real, it hurts before it pleases. And 6.5 is like the perfect length to comfortably kiss your cervix. That stamina? His insomnia? The low, sultriness of his voice? Yeahh, you can kiss a good night's rest goodbye and your pussy will absolutely thank you for it. It’s been said that Levi is one of the best in terms of ODM use because of how quick he is while maneuvering the gear and the way it’s used is by the wearers shifting a lot of their weight to their pelvis for movement. Once again YOUR PUSSY WILL THANK YOU! 

Erwin - 7.5

Though the Commander stands tall above his peers, he has some muscle mass to him and therefore I consider him a girthy fellow. Keep in mind this is the same man who stared down Reiner in his armor titan form, all the while being short one arm. It's been said that the horses that the scouts ride are bred specifically to outrun titans but what they leave out is that Erwins horse is bred specifically to carry balls as heavy as his. Lmfaoo this man is BRAVE, just daring a mf to try some shit. And he absolutely carries that trait into the bedroom as well. 

Connie - 7.5

Connie has always given me goofball vibes. That “huh” ass mf was sorta the comedic relief to the show and it’s like omg you brought dick too?? Funny men be getting me ngl jksjsks. It’s been said that Connie views the Scouts training almost like a summer camp and while he made the top ten his competitive edge doesn’t really set in until he sees someone doing better than him lol. I genuinely don’t think dick size matters to him all that much so when he becomes sexually active and gets so much praise, it’s like ohh wow - new kink unlocked.

Jean - 10 inches

I'm willing to physically debate this lmao. This is probably the only thing he’ll beat Eren in, but I whole heartedly believe that Jean is packing a SCHLONG. He’s always stood above his peers throughout the show and as he ages, it’s more prominent. Tall and skinny men are literally always packing and those pencils wanna write in every book. Mans would absolutely put Mikasa through a mattress if given the chance.

Onyankopon - 8.5 inches

Even though Ony doesn’t get a whole lotta screen time, I can safely assume his length here. This is the same man who fucking DARED Floch to kill him AFTER witnessing him kill a few others for refusing to fall in line. You wanna talk about standing on business? Ohhh Ony’s your man through and through. Mans is always fighting for the greater good and even willing to sacrifice his life for the cause; it’s safe to say you’d bark if he asked you to. 

Reiner - 7.0

Ok hear me out, mans is GIRTHY. And 7 inches isn’t a bad place to be at all. Very rarely do those beefcake ass men have length, but that doesn’t mean they're lacking. In fact, I’ll take it a step further and guess that Reiners smeat curves left. CHANGE MY MIND. Any man strong enough to wield that heavy ass armor titan is absolutely knocking the cobwebs off that pwussy. Needless to say, prep is still a must.

Armin - 7.0

Its certainly the quiet ones that shock you the most. Have you ever interacted with a chill and laid back man? It's definitely a reason for that and Armin is no exception. Although I consider him the least experienced, keep in mind that he is a QUICK learner. Every contort of your face and shift of your body is all the notes he needs to take to properly learn how to work your body over. And soon, you’ll be able to mold him to your perfect sex partner. That, coupled with his sweet attitude and sincere personality; sigh that bitch Annie really struck gold with this one. 

Floch - 8.0

If you look up unhinged in the dictionary, you’d literally find a picture of Floch. Many can make the argument that he may be overcompensating for something, but I di-fucking-gress. Even though he can be a bit off the walls, it truly was for good reason and all in the name of his country and THAT, my friends, is big dick behavior.

[desperateknot]

A bit cringy, but I will do it again.

Swap Ishqueg/LCB Queequeg AU.

Seven Assoc. South Section 4 ID uptie story:

Heathcliff: So, you see, if it was the doing of a high level member of a Finger, there is nothing we can do. A shame, really, since they promised to pay so much for the post-contract management...Hey are you even listening?

The other child doesn't even lift her face from the paper to respond.

She took another sip of the coffee, totally absorbed by the details of this new case.

She indeed didn't hear a word of what her senior said.

Queequeg: Hmm no.

She spoke slowly, but with confidence.

Queequeg: Not the Middle. This one. Copy cat.

A rare smile formed at the corner of her lips. It is truly unusual for her to be in such high spirit.

Heathcliff: What? Are you sure?

Queequeg: Sure.

Queequeg: Get uniform. We go now.

Queequeg: Get him before the Middle...For his sake too.

Confused and a bit angry, but the other child did oblige.

He decided to have faith in her deduction, after all, when the Director of South Section 6 transferred her to their department, she said.

Outis: She might be frugal with her words, but do heed them. Her insight will undoubtedly prove to be valuable.

It's totally not because he wants that bonus, no.

Either way, he believes there must be a good reason for someone like her to be accepted among their ranks.

Queequeg: Lucky you.

The culprit: Mocking me now? You caught me. What is lucky about that?

Indeed. In contrast to this child's, the body of the man at the other end of her sword has not even a speck of tattoo. He is really not a member of the Middle.

Queequeg: The Middle's retribution would not have been...

With a simple motion, she pierced her sword through the man's stomach.

Queequeg: So swift and merciful.

Queequeg: Impersonating Big Brother. Grave sin.

The child let out a long sigh. And the melancholy returned to her again.

She could never truly escape them. The Middle never forgets.

However, if her knowledge about them could be of use, she would not hesitate to leverage it to live her new life.

That is the least she could do. That is the least she could have done to fulfill her end of the promise made under the setting sun.

Heathcliff: Uh...so there seems to be a really good restaurant near here-

Queequeg: No. I go back now.

Heathcliff: Huh? Aren't you hungry?

It seems like the other child's attempt at consolation flew right over his junior's head.

Queequeg: Miss Faust's tea already. Coffee...yucky.

Personal notes:

The anatomy here is kind of...atrocious. At first, I even got her eye colour, which I hastily fixed in this version. Well, my anatomy from newer pieces is still terrible, but not as terrible, I guess.

You may notice that I am not a native English speaker, so the way I phrased things and wrote things is a bit weird. I'm not good at writing in my native tongue either. I say I'm bilingual, but I'm actually just illiterate in two different languages.

This is not my proudest work, but I do still like the idea a lot.

I first thought of the idea of Seven Association Fixer Queequeg because I want to give her glasses, as I like to do with every of my favourite characters, but then I realised she would probably be good at investigating crimes (like murders) because she did some before? Especially crimes related to the Fingers. Her personal experiences would be helpful, I think.

[perplexedjokist]

two face pulls his gun on anyone. harvey rarely uses the thing, two face uses it like a communication tool.

nights like this where harvey is too tired and TF is honestly at the end of his rope, they tend to lash out a bit.

"mister dent how do you feel about the new fabrics?" fine. "boss? hey?" quiet. "hey boss do you wanna look over these or not?"

he doesn't realize he's completely silent, only replying in his head. verbal communication is too hard when you have a nasty migraine and attitude to match.

they keep repeating themselves and other hired thugs ask new questions and it's just so mind numbing. boss what do you want this for, boss when's the break in, boss when am I getting a raise, it's all so annoying.

with all the energy he can muster without worsening his migraine, harvey gets up.

"disturb me and I'll fire you, any of you." harvey of course doesn't mean to say that, but TF is switching to their main conscious and honestly harvey is too tired to care.

thankfully this is one of the hideouts with small offices, so he goes there. slamming the door shut behind him.

for the next twenty or so minutes he sits to himself and tries to aid his headache with whiskey, despite the fact he knows it only masks it with a different pain, he doesn't care.

behind the door he can hear hushed yells before the door opens, footsteps towards his chair and he doesn't make a move to open his eyes.

he does however, push his gun into the person's face.

whoever it is deservers it. at least that's what he believes.

"something the matter? you seem quite.. trigger happy." scarecrow. his fucking luck, if it was joker he'd at least gain reputation shooting him.

he moves his finger over the trigger. "... now harvey."

"I will fucking kill you, crane." and for whatever reason two face opens his eyes, his headache died as much as his irritation grew. oddly enough his gun is pressed just below glasses, funny, the scarecrow usually isn't without his mask.

"two face, excuse my assumption."

there's a pause, and shift of the gun; it's pointed differently now. less intent to kill, a way of saying essentially I want to kill you less but still wish to harm.

and slowly two face lowers his gun, picks back up his glass. "you don't usually care about talking. what do you want?" alcohol burns in a way that's distracting from annoyances, without it two face would have more murders to his name.

"so aggressive today. I'm here at the moment not as a fellow criminal but as a therapist, we did agree on me analyzing you as a payment, didn't we? as I don't need money."

for once harvey and two face agree on something, even if they refuse the money, pay anyone that way or not at all. especially the man who makes his entire life around fear.

"you wanna analyze, huh? go sit in the corner. and don't talk to me."

and he did - surprisingly enough he simply did sit to himself and write in the small notepad he brought with him.

sure it was unnerving to have someone watch you just sit and drink till you felt calmed enough not to debate gutting someone, but everyone has uncomfortable things they force themselves through..

and hell, maybe the company calmed him.

[alpaca-clouds]

Fantasy Worlds and their Accessibility

Let's face one simple fact: fantasy settings that are not going into Urban Fantasy specifically, we will not see much in terms of disabilities.

If it is a low magic setting, we might have some characters here and there who limp, or are maybe amputees. Rarely it is the main characters, who has a disability. At least for most of the book. Later on - near the end - sure. But before? Geralt in the Witcher is one of the few characters I know who is disabled for a good part of the series. (And the books generally feature a lot of disabled characters.)

Disabilities that a character has from birth also are very rare.

The logic behind this tends to be: "Huh, in this world someone who was born with a disability would not survive" or "Oh, disabilities tots are not a problem here, because we have MAGIC!" Both of which are examples of eugenic thinking.

Fact is, that we have found bones going back for millennia showing that disabled people were cared for by their communities.

And frankly, healing all disabilities with magic is not just uncool, but also the most lazy writing ever. To me it just shows the writer does not want to think about disabilities, so they just handwave them away.

Which is ironic, because you can do fun and cool things if you actually do think about it while worldbuilding. My current favorite example for this is Witch Hat Atelier, in which technically some magic exists to heal disabilities, but it has been forbidden for a variety of plot reasons. (A big part of that manga actually focuses on the question what uses of magic are ethical and which are not. Especially in regards to healing magic. So far landing on: "Healing someone who is on the brink of death because of an injury is fine, changing a fundamental part of a person (like you would od if you cured a disability) is one of those things that are not fine.") Here we have several disabled characters who instead of healing themselves or getting healed with magic use magic or magical items to get themselves more accessibility. We have walking chairs. We have a character who lost use of their legs using wings to fly instead. We have people using skills to work around sensory disabilities. It is fucking amazing.

Let's face it: realistically speaking no matter what kind of world you have, there will be disabled people of some sort. And it is actually super interesting to see what ideas writers and world builders might come up with to work with them and their needs.

Especially considering the one thing people hate to consider: old people tend to be disabled. Contrary to popular belief even in the middle ages people grew old. ("Average" life expectancy was low, because like half of people died within the first 6 years of their life, many wihtin the first year. That tends to bring down the average. People who got older than 10 usually tended to also reach at least their 50s, often even their 60s and 70s.) So, how does the old person deal with all the stairs in the palace? And other accessibility issues?

I just hate that this topic gets completely ignored in worldbuilding again and again.

Disabled people are a minority, but we are still like 20-25% of all people. And let's face it, if people actually admitted that folks who need glasses are technically disabled (and would definitely suffer for it in a world that has no ready access to glasses)... We would be more like 50%.

[abrthephantomq]

Soooo....

Turnabout Storyteller.

I had already vaguely known about Uendo having DID due to me not necessarily avoiding spoilers when reading fanfic, but...

I have so many thoughts on this as someone who HAS the disorder they're representing here.

Like, one, I definitely appreciated the way they revealed it -- during a Mood Matrix session. Having multiple sets of feelings and having them switch on and off like that is def a thing. I've/we've experienced that before.

But also -- before that, when Uendo was switching between his "characters" and everyone thought he was just putting on a performance? Yeah, see. They did that really well considering that like -- yes, the way alters hold the body/the face can be really different. They certainly felt like different people, which was really cool to see. I liked the different poses they had because as I played I was like, "Huh... is he the character with DID...? He is, right?"

The thing is, I'm like 80% certain that Uendo is the murderer, and THAT annoys me -- but I'm not done playing through the case, yet. I just started the second half of the trial, so.... I'll comment as I go.

But if I'm right and Uendo IS the murderer, I'm gonna have to roll my eyes because soooo many pieces of media use my disorder to show HEY SOMEONE WITH THIS COULD BE A KILLER AND NOT KNOWWWWW and I hate that. Because like.... no.

OH THANK GOD. Like 3 seconds into the send half of the trial and it's NOT Uendo. Yay. Yayyyyy. I'm actually really glad they did that subversion of the person-with-DID-is-the-killer trope. Thank fucking GOD.

SIMON GRABBING ATHENA when she starts to doubt she can prove Bucky's innocence is just -- fuck. Okay. Yeah, I see why the fandom loves that particular moment. (I love Simon so much omfg).

I am honestly loving this case and I actually really like the way they've presented Uendo -- it's simplified a bit for the sake of the audience, but at the same time, switching DO be like that. And you can certainly be co-conscious and share memory.

Like.... that's legitimately how our System works -- there's usually 2-3 of us up front at any given time, with someone generally more forward, while the other(s) listens / watches. Sometimes others push to the front. And there are 4 of us who more or less have access to the continual life happenings even if we don't always recollect specific details (or what we were feeling) later.

Also Owen being a LITTLE makes so much damn sense? Fuck, idk man, I love it. I kinda adore them.

I really really really got weary when Uendo's diagnosis was revealed because, y'know, the whole oh God pls tell me you're not the murderer even if it was kinda looking like you were.

That fucking balloon girl did it, didn't she? Jesus fucking Christ. I love that, but I also hate that. Also it's so unfair they made this chick so goddamned pretty.

Also man can I also say just how like.... they legitimately refer to Owen as a child, and Kisegawa with Ms., and -- that's actually a nice little piece of the writing here. Like... is it absolutely perfect? No. It's not. But let me tell you -- as someone with this disorder? Writing it and showing it for an audience is hard.

That whole, "everyone is unique" thing applies here -- every System is different. They all develop ways of functioning in order to blend in and protect themselves. Uendo may not have the denial bit that comes with this disorder (do you know how many times I find myself asking if I'm sure I'm not faking this thing? do you??? because like, it's a "rare" disorder, right? and was my trauma REALLY bad enough for me to have alters???? etc) -- but considering the confident way he, Patches, and Kisegawa speak about their experience with the disorder, I would imagine they've been in therapy for it for a while, now.

But also -- the three of them not being aware of Owen? Or denying his existence, at least? Well, they were either protecting him because he's so young, or they legitimately did not know since apparently he may only come forward when the body is drunk.

idk I love that Uendo et al was not the killer. Like so much. Thank FUCK.

Also that was a really fun case even if it was like, not entirely relevant to the overall story happening here in SOJ. I definitely enjoyed it.

[amostimprobabledream]

Falling in Reverse (Dazai Osamu x Reader) Part Two

I meant to write more of this like...two years ago? My bad. I hope you enjoy despite that! <3 -

This is fine.

You kept on thinking it as you sat there, trying to pay attention.

You told yourself to stop it. Stop nitpicking, finding fault with every little thing and refusing to live in the moment for a solitary fucking second. You could feel your fingers twitching with desperation to check your messages, and nearly sit on your hands in an effort to stop yourself. You poured your focus into acting normal instead, nodding in the right places, making encouraging noises, keeping your facial expression open and inviting instead of sliding into boredom or irritation…

It's a fucking lot of work.

The guy – his name was Ken-something, he said what it was when you sat down but the bar was kind of loud and the chance to get him to repeat it somehow slipped past you – was good-looking enough but he wasn’t especially interesting to talk to, and he kept looking around the bar like he was expecting something. He asked the basic questions, but you got the feeling he wasn’t really listening when you answered. The only time he did seem intrigued was when you mentioned your job. You kept it vague, since the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t popular with some people, and he’d lost interest when you clarified it was just a desk job.

“So you don’t get to get out much?” he asked, with a lopsided smirk like he’d made some hilarious sexual innuendo you hadn’t got yet.

“Oh, you know, I run errands sometimes.” You replied, pretending to think hard about the response. It's actually true – Ranpo had you bringing him so many snacks it’s like he thought you were the goddamn Easter Bunny, yet you could never quite bring yourself to say ‘no’ to him. “Thrilling stuff, I know.”

 “That’s too bad. Maybe you need someone to show you some thrills, you know?”

A smirk accompanied that, and you dutifully waited for the butterflies in your stomach, or a flicker of intrigue, or something, but your ardour remained stubbornly cool. Frustration bubbled inside you, and you took a big gulp of your drink. It was like you were jamming keys you knew fit into the ignition of a car, but every time you turned it, the engine would not turn on, no matter how much you tried to will it to life.

But going home would feel like quitting. Like admitting defeat. Like you're really saying: I'm so obsessed with my co-worker who is both terrible and far too good for me that I can't give anyone else a chance. Sad, huh?

“Excuse me for a sec,” you said instead, flashing a smile you didn’t feel, rising to your feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He waved a hand in acknowledgement, and you could tell he was watching you as you headed for the ladies’ room, the heat of it making you strangely uneasy, knowing his eyes were going down your body, cataloguing. For sure he was looking at your ass in the dress.

The ladies’ room was blessedly quiet, and you splashed some water on your face, staring down your reflection, hands braced either side of the sink.

What am I doing here? You thought, and sighed.

It’s just a lacklustre date. You’ve gone on them before and usually put no further thought into them once you took off your makeup and outfit and slipped into bed. There are millions of people in the world, the odds of being instantly compatible with someone seemed like a rare enough thing not to take too personally.

But looking at yourself in your red dress, your hair washed and makeup still nice (if getting slightly smudgy – most of your lipgloss had already transferred to the rim of your glass), you didn’t feel like some kind of sexy badass like you’d been going for.

You just felt kind of stupid, to be honest.

You really thought you did something, didn’t you? A nasty inner voice sneered at you. You thought this was like a movie where you could put on a slutty dress, have an amazing date with a cute guy and magically cure your shitty life? You thought this would fix anything?

You hated that the bitchy voice was right.

“You stupid bitch.” You muttered out loud, your reflection mouthing the words back at you, and you shook your head and exited the toilets before somebody walked in on the stranger talking to herself.

Perhaps the drinks are hitting you a little harder than you thought, because a vague fuzz of light-headedness descended on you as you walked towards your booth, and you decided that you liked it. It took the edge of your self-consciousness and made you forget how this wasn’t the kind of dress you usually wore, or that you were going on a stupid date to get over your feelings for a co-worker who was literally a hazard to one’s health.

But then, just as you got back to your seat, younearly tripped over yourself in shock when you got to the booth and the back of the seated man’s head was definitely not the man you’d come into the bar with.

You’d know those fluffy brown locks anywhere.

“Dazai, what the fuck?!“ you said, then remembered to lower your voice into a hiss, anger coming to you in a sharp burst, like opening a bottle that’s been shaken up first. “You can’t just come in here and- “

Dazai turned his head and your ranting abruptly halted. His face was devoid of its usual playful smirk and the sparkle of mischief in his eyes, eyes that looked brown but when the light hit them just right, they got this golden sheen that looked just like honey…

You were distracted for a second, and Dazai’s voice cut through the fog.

“I don’t have time to explain, we have to move now.”

Something in his voice froze your anger – it had dropped an octave from his usual light-hearted, teasing tone he often adopted to annoy Kunikida or trick Atsushi into doing something for him. No, Dazai wasn’t playing around, and your stomach dropped when you caught the look on his face.

More questions teemed on your tongue, but he was standing up, up, out of the seat and away from the little booth, grabbing your arm as he rushed by. Your half-finished drink lay abandoned and unpaid for – you knew Dazai had a habit of dine and dashing and apparently he was putting it to good use now.

He dragged you through the kitchen, so quickly that the yells of surprise from the cooks were already far behind you as he opened the door to the back of the bar and you’d stepped into the cool outside air. Dazai didn’t pause in his stride or let go of your arm and you realised to your chagrin that you’d left your jacket behind in the booth. You could only hope some kind soul would hand it in to the place to hold onto, though they might not feel like returning it since you’d just disappeared without paying for your drink.

“Dazai, slow down-" you said, doing your damndest to keep up with him – you’re not exactly dressed for running. “What’s going on?”

“Your date isn’t just your average Joe, I’m afraid.” Dazai replied, grimly, apparently deciding that telling you something was more practical than refusing to go into detail and risking a mutiny. “I’m not sure where you found this guy, but he’s there to try and pump information about the Armed Detective Agency from you.”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly – you barely had time to register the chilly sting of disappointment, like cool air from a fast moving vehicle whipping by you.

“What the fuck – how could you possibly know that?” you spluttered, before another, unwelcome possibility struck you. “Were you… following me?!”

“Of course I was.” He said, in a voice that sounded a bit more like his usual one – that annoying, teasy, I-know-something-you-don’t-know tone that usually got him slapped upside the head by Kunikida.

Your indignant squawk was cut off when he wrenched at your arm and suddenly, you’d stopped running and were enveloped in cool darkness. He’d found some kind of little snicket that somebody passing at a reasonable pace would probably have missed. You’re not surprised that Dazai was well-acquainted with hidden away little spots like that.

“Dazai-" you said again, frustrated and slightly out of breath – why was he stopping?

“Ssh.” He said.

In the distance you could hear the screeching of a car – no, more than one car – and an even more distant wailing of sirens. His arms caged you in and he was staring over his shoulder intently, like a fox that has heard the baying of the hounds.

“No doubt the Port Mafia’s goons are out looking for their little friend now.” He muttered, more to himself than you. It was like he’d forgotten you were there. “It’s for the best if this doesn’t get traced back to the Armed Detective Agency.”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, noting the calculating look in Dazai’s eyes and unease crawled up your back. It’s so easy to forget that Dazai used to be one of them, that he knew the way they think and that he’s capable of switching back into that mode with frightening ease. Just because you’re co-workers didn’t mean you knew much about him, and you’re being made painfully aware of that fact right now.

“Dazai…just what did you do?” you asked, and you couldn’t hide the faint hitch in your voice.

Did he drag the guy outside and kill him? Was that why the police sirens were coming closer? If you pulled back the front of his coat right now, would his immaculate white shirt be splattered with still-wet blood? Does he think you told the guy something valuable? You didn’t think Dazai would hurt you – but you couldn’t be completely, one-hundred percent sure.

What did you really know about Osamu Dazai?

“Don’t worry. The Port Mafia don’t take kindly when you mess with one of their own,” Dazai said, seemingly able to discern your mounting fears with a glance, perhaps the look in your eyes or the tremor when you spoke gave you away. “He’ll live, but he’ll think twice before he tries using someone from the Agency like that.”

Thank god for that. You think – not that you would have lost too much sleep over one ex-Port Mafia member, but the thought of being stuck in a tiny space with a man who had just recently murdered someone wasn’t exactly the kind of exciting activity you’d hoped for tonight.

“So, we should get out of here,” you said, swallowing. “While they’re still swarming the bar.”

“Not yet. They’ll be looking for people running for public transport.” Dazai replied, his voice so certain that you didn’t question him further – why would you? This was all new territory for you, whereas Dazai had been doing this kind of thing since he was fifteen.

“So then what-?”

But you both fell silent as you heard something else – voices, drawing closer. Dazai swore softly under his breath, and he leaned in a little closer to you like he was trying to shield you from view with his body. You could feel yourself starting to sweat from the intensity of it, fighting back a grimace as you felt a trickle of it sliding down the length of your upper arm. Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Dazai said, after a beat, when the voices had drawn so close that you swore any second - any second! – they were going to find you and maybe kill you, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears.

 And Dazai truly sounded regretful - he really was a good actor.

 “I'm going to have to kiss you."

He didn't give you pause to process his words, which came to you as if from far away, floating to your ears, because the next thing you knew, long slender fingers were cupping your jaw, turning your face and his mouth was sliding over yours.

Most first kisses are awkward, fumbling affairs. Getting used to someone else's rhythm, trying not to do something awkward and mood-killing like clash teeth or bite the other person's tongue can slow things down, cause a few seconds where the spell is broken.

Kissing Dazai - or rather, being kissed by him, was nothing like that.

He kissed you like he'd been given a guide. Like he knew you, intrinsically and deeply, and knew the inner workings of your mind and mouth better than you did. One hand stayed cradling your jaw, the other one slid down, and his long, elegant fingers wrapped around your waist, pulling you in until you were pressed flush against him. It didn’t escape your notice that his crotch was also touching you and you were decidedly grateful his mouth was firmly joined with yours, or you might have actually whimpered out loud.

How often had you dreamed of this? Your nights had been full of sordid little fantasies of Dazai, of dropping your guard and confessing to him, and then, in your mind, he’d smile and tell you he’d always known, before he kissed you. Or depending on how raunchy you were feeling, other times you’d picture him just sweeping everything off your desk in a dramatic gesture and fucking you right then and there on the desk?

And all of it had seemed so stupid and pathetic than you’d be stinging with shame after your late-night fantasies reached their climax, lusting so hard over someone who probably barely noticed you were present in the room. Falling for Dazai’s looks was one thing, but you saw what he was like on a day-to-day basis, how he was lazy and unprofessional and sometimes kind of an asshole. But cold logic would not touch your yearning.

And now, in this cold, cramped little forgotten pocket of Yokohama, Dazai was putting your daydreams to shame. Your lips tingled as if you’d kissed something with a high voltage, heat surging along your bloodstream. Dazai’s touch was gentle but firm and the way he tilted his head, angling yours at his preference, sent a thrill chasing down your spine.

The voices were now right across from you, within arm’s reach, but Dazai felt you stiffen in fear and simply deepened the kiss, holding you tightly to him.

“Nevermind. Nobody’s here ‘cept some lovebirds.” A man’s rough voice said and it sounded so close, you could practically smell him, but you forced yourself to tune him out like someone deep in the throes of passion would, to sink into the sensation of Dazai’s hands on you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the pleasant scent of him, sort of like freshly-cut wood and whisky.

“Come on, let’s go this way, they probably took the subway.”

The footsteps go the opposite direction, you hear one of the Port Mafia grunts swearing as he walks through a puddle, and the fear pricking you recedes. Dazai had one eye open, scanning behind you, before he finally breaks the kiss and pulled back. You felt bereft, but you were also seized by the abrupt urge to laugh at the sparkly smudge of gloss on the corner of his mouth.

“Nicely done,” Dazai remarked, his eyes cutting down at you, and his lips curved in a smirk. “Almost like it was real.”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound ironic, but you sounded far too breathy to be sufficiently aloof. “Almost.”

Dazai’s hand had not left your waist yet and he stepped out of the hiding place, pulling you after him.

“Stay close to me,” he instructed, his voice husky. “We’re not out of danger yet.”

You nodded and wiped your mouth on the back of the wrist.

With Dazai, danger was a given. You just hoped you’d come out of it in one piece – in more ways than one. But your voice was steady as you answered;

“Then let’s go.”

[tellmewhatyouc]

Congratulations on the milestone! Especially with the amount you've written, could I get your thoughts on Ace x Law they're my favorite rare pair and I love the way you write them

thank you!!!

and acelaw 💞 i haven't engaged with them much in A While because my brain has been elsewhere, i feel like i could get back there eventually but i haven't watched OP in ages so i'd probably have to do some re-watching to get familiar with them again. either way they will always be a fave, i'll always fondly remember our little community back in 2020-21 and appreciate the people who have dropped by my fics since then

honestly the initial appeal to me was just that they're my 2 favorite characters and i wanted to write them interacting, and that's how my longer fic soft focus started out. and then i got Invested. i think it's the grumpy x sunshine vibe, which i know also exists in law/luffy but i'm not personally that into shipping w/ luffy so it worked out nicely.

i think they also both have complicated feelings about life and death, law what with the Trauma and the tattoos and ace feeling like he shouldn't have been born in the first place. i'm pretty sure that's a thing forgive me if i'm just remembering wrong again my OP brain hasn't been active since like 2021 kasjdfkdj

and idk! i just had a lot of fun writing ace being a goof, law tolerating him because he is so lovable. i think they can bring out the best in each other and look out for each other and that's all i ever want in a ship tbh. i really enjoyed writing luffy into the dynamic too, deeply important to ace and becoming important to law as a result.

with all that said i dug around in The Archives because i knew i had some unposted stuff, and here's a cut(??) snippet from soft focus i wrote in late 2020. this scene turns into Drama because i had a lot of ideas about law that i was gonna get into but idk if they'll actually make an appearance in the rewrite so. here's some softness:

Ace had made himself comfortable on Law’s couch. He’d kicked his shoes off to pull his legs up, his knees pointed towards Law. Part of him was wishing they’d get to have a Teen Movie Moment and snuggle up together during the movie, but it seemed unlikely. Law kept almost a full cushion’s distance between them, so even “accidentally” brushing their legs together would be an impossible task.

By the end of the next movie, Ace was fading. He knew for sure this wasn’t a sleep attack sort of tired; it was too gradual. He just needed to go to bed.

“Where do you want to sleep?” Law asked as the credits started rolling onscreen.

“Huh?” Ace asked. It was as if Law was reading his mind-- or, perhaps just his body language. “I didn’t know I had options.”

“Of course you have options,” Law said. “If you’re looking for something more comfortable than a futon, I just changed the sheets on my bed earlier today.”

Ace’s heart skipped a beat. Law, who hadn’t even let Ace hug him, was suggesting they share a bed? Was he dreaming already?

“I’ll be spending most of the night in my office down the hall,��� Law added, “I probably won’t be sleeping until early in the afternoon. So as long as you don’t sleep past noon, I don’t mind.”

Ace’s posture relaxed somewhat. Right. Law had mentioned he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. “Oh, uh… sure. As long as it’s cool with you.”

Law nodded as he stood from the couch. “It’s the first door on the left,” he said. “I just have to relocate Cora before you go in, but the bathroom is right across the hall. I’m pretty sure there’s an unopened toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.”

Ace cracked a smile as he stood up beside Law. “Thanks,” he said. “Do you… have anything I could wear?” He was still wearing jeans, and while he usually slept in nothing but boxers, that… wasn’t something he wanted to do in Law’s bed. Not under his current circumstances, anyway.

Law looked Ace up and down. “I’m sure I could find something,” he said. “I’ll leave it out for you.”

“Thank you,” Ace said with a nod. The idea of sleeping in Law’s bed, wearing Law’s clothes, had him a little weak in the knees as he walked over to the bathroom. Sure, it wasn’t anything romantic-- he wanted to keep his mind away from those thoughts for the moment. But Law genuinely cared, his hospitality showed it, and Ace couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about that.

He found the toothbrush without any trouble, since Law’s bathroom was well-organized. He avoided snooping around too much, turning a blind eye to the row of orange pill bottles on one of the highest shelves, and brushed his teeth before he got out of there.

He found Law across the hall in his bedroom, placing a folded set of clothes down on the bed. There wasn’t much to the room— just a queen-sized bed pushed into a corner, a nightstand, and a dresser. No pictures, no decorations, nothing. Just like the rest of his home.

“These should fit,” Law said, gesturing towards the clothes. “I’ll be in my office down the hall if you need anything. Just knock on the door before you come in.”

Ace nodded. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem. Better to sleep here than go home in the dark.” Law took a quick glance around the room, and his gaze lingered on Ace for a moment too long before he nodded. “Well… goodnight.”

“Night,” Ace said, offering Law a smile. Once Law left the room, he stripped down to his boxers and left his clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser. The clothes Law supplied fit fairly well; the pajama pants were a tad too long, but the cotton t-shirt fit just right. He plugged his phone into the outlet by the bed before he climbed into bed, already half asleep. 

He drifted off within minutes.

[itsabouttimex2]

Amazing job at writing the new part as always! It flows nicely and you can easily tell how familiar Macaque & MC without making him OOC. Honestly i admire your grasp at these characters and ability of doing something as complex as interactive series. I'm kinda curious how do you plan things and how far ahead but only if you want to share it ofc.

Going back to the actually piece- it actually made me look up the meanings of flowers despite the original thought of it only being because of the color association. Two first flowers have pretty easy and basic meaning. I can see why the edgy (/affectionate) mentor wouldn't want them near his home.

Freesia - friendship trust innocence

yellow roses - friendship, joy and similar stuff

The one choosen by Macaque are a little more interesting.

Tansies - immortality, resistance, "I declare against you", sometimes used in medicine

black dahlias - (warning of) betrayal, sadness, (not specified black ones: dignity, good luck, elegance)

I'm guessing the tansies are about him being bitter about the Wukong and their more practical use. Black dahlias could be about Monkey King but also some kind of foreshadowing depending on our choice. Or I'm reading into it too much.

Hopefully I'm not overthinking it or completely missing the point (and if i am, I'm really,really sorry). Just wanted to share it in case other readers didn't look it up + i know some people like to see their work analysed but if i'm going to far please let me know! Have a good day/night! :]

(Sorry for any mistakes and feel free to delete the ask)

Oh my god, thank you so much! That’s such a sweet thing to say! (Please never stop analyzing my work I put a lot of effort into it💜💜)

🌻🌻I’ll start with flowers: you are right on the money here. Freesia especially are bright and colorful blooms, coming in many different gorgeous colors. Yellow roses are just the same, bright and cheery and so similar to the sun.

And, given that freesia come in orange and yellow… it’s possible the potted plants were a living reminder of Sun Wukong that Macaque finally got sick of and ripped apart. Or he just took advantage of someone else shredding the innocent flowers and took something that Y/N worked hard on and changed it to his liking instead. (Written to be ambiguous as to which scenario occurred.)

Notably, the new flowers not only match his own personal feelings, but even his color scheme! Yellow, then red and black. Twice over do these flowers symbolize him, something he took and changed to make more suitable to his tastes and feelings.

But he’s not the one who takes care of them- no, it’s Y/N who is dedicated to seeing them grow.

His student tending and nurturing the flowers that represent Macaque, while Macaque destroys/allows the destruction of the flowers that represent his student. Huh. Funny.

Okay flower rant done.🌻🌻

Macaque is such an interesting character to write, given that there’s a spike of cruelty barbing out from almost every action he takes. I think a lot of people have forgotten that the man hasn’t had a redemption arc in canon- he displays zero regret for, say… manipulating and trying to kill MK. Or leveling the Dragon Palace of the East Sea. Or assaulting Tang, a strict non-combatant. Or holding Mei’s life hostage.

He doesn’t feel bad for doing any of these. If he does, he’s keeping tight-lipped about it. No apologies. No direct atonement.

And even on the extremely rare circumstance that he’s being “kind”, like deciding to stop torturing MK in Shadowplay, it comes across as almost “I’m bored with you, you aren’t fun anymore.”

He’s not a good guy. So even with Y/N, who he genuinely does care for, there’s this level of manipulation.

Like, he calls Y/N adorable, which sounds nice… but there’s almost a level of victim-blaming to it. No matter how roundabout his words, Macaque basically says to his own student: “If you looked different, people wouldn’t bother you, so let me change the way you look.”

And they trust him enough to agree.

Or letting them cook in fear outside his door when he’s clearly near enough to open it, but dropping the act when they start to break down.

He’s such an interesting character to write ugh I love it.

I had a lot of the routes planned pretty far out, actually, and I’ll give a few examples of what was planned:

Spider Demon Y/N was sort of naive and excitable, but was going to mature/sour after realizing that their beloved queen was, in fact, the bad guy. They were going to have to come to terms with her necessary defeat and their own part in betraying her, as well as living on after you’ve cut ties to your family. Then, readers were going to be able to pick one other henchman to convince to join the heroes.

Dragon Y/N was going to have to both gain Ao Guang’s (their father) approval to live on the surface, and decide how they felt about MK possessing the Ruyi Jingu Bang. They fought using two strings of beaded pearls, utilizing them as whips and grappling hooks to maneuver around the battle field. Also, they hated Macaque. Genuinely throwing hands on sight if they saw that edgy rat.

Heir/Proxy Y/N was going to be a pretty miserable and clingy person, having spent most of their life alone on account of both the LBD and Mayor’s influence. Overcoming their fears and anxieties of being unlovable was going to be a massive part of the journey, learning to love themself and be loved in turn. They were going to have to learn to master the powers forcibly implanted into their body, trying to prevent themself from being sacrificed for power to aid LBD’s onwards path to ‘destiny’.

Ne Zha’s Y/N was going to be cute and polite, very excited to explore the mortal realm outside the grasp of their overprotective mentor/brother. They were also going to have to deal with the first two lotus princes (also overprotective) and Ao Bing, who served as a dear friend.

Sun Wukong’s Y/N was going to be his estranged child who was bitter over ML inheriting the staff instead of them. They were going to despise him for never training them, having to find masters and teachers elsewhere all across the world. In turn, he was desperately trying to make amends and reestablish a strong bond with his cherished progeny, hoping to reconnect eventually.

Also Mei was going to call Y/N “Broth-Face”.

[i2rizz]

Quiet Promises

Fandom: Bungou stray dogs | masterlist

Characters: Oda x reader

------------‐---------------------------------------

The bar was dimly lit, the faint hum of jazz music weaving through the smoky air like a lullaby. You sat at the counter, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your glass. Beside you, Oda Sakunosuke leaned back against the stool, his usual calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos that often surrounded him.

It wasn’t often that you two had moments like this. Between the Port Mafia and the constant shadow of danger, nights like these felt stolen, like the world owed you both a small slice of peace. Oda’s presence alone was enough to make you forget the turmoil outside the bar doors.

“Why do you always order that?” he asked, his voice a smooth murmur as he gestured to your drink.

You smirked. “Because it’s simple. Not too strong, not too sweet. Balanced, like me.”

Oda chuckled softly, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that rare smile that made your heart flutter. “Balanced, huh? You’ve been hanging around me too much.”

“And yet I’m not the one drinking whiskey straight,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow at his glass.

He shrugged, his gaze flickering to the amber liquid. “Whiskey doesn’t lie. It is what it is.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “That’s very Oda of you.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence. Oda wasn’t the kind of man who needed to fill the air with words; his presence spoke volumes. You watched him as he stared at the bar’s shelves, his fingers lightly drumming against his glass.

“Do you ever think about getting out?” you asked suddenly, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Oda didn’t flinch, but his gaze softened. “Out of the mafia?”

You nodded, your eyes searching his face.

He exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned his forearms on the counter. “Sometimes. When I think about the kids, about how they deserve a better life... I think about it a lot.”

You felt a pang in your chest. Oda’s devotion to the children he cared for was one of the things you admired most about him. He wasn’t like the others in the mafia. There was something about him—his quiet kindness, his unshakable principles—that made you believe he didn’t belong in that world at all.

“And what about you?” he asked, turning the question back on you.

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around your glass. “I don’t know. I guess... I guess I feel like there’s more to life than this. But it’s hard to imagine leaving when everything we know is tied to the mafia.”

Oda studied you for a long moment, his teal eyes soft but unreadable. “You could leave, you know. You’re not like the rest of us.”

His words were gentle, but they struck a nerve. “You say that like you’re already writing yourself off, Oda. You’re better than this life, too. You’re the best person I know.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You give me too much credit.”

“I mean it,” you said firmly, your gaze locking onto his. “You deserve better, Oda. The kids deserve better. And if you ever decide to leave, I’ll go with you.”

The admission hung in the air, heavier than the smoke curling around the room. For a moment, Oda didn’t say anything. Then he reached out, his hand brushing against yours on the counter.

“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

The bartender refilled your drinks, breaking the silence. You both took small sips, the warmth of the alcohol a stark contrast to the bittersweet ache in your chest.

“Do you remember the first time we came here?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

Oda nodded, his expression softening. “You got into an argument with the bartender about the difference between a martini and a cocktail.”

“In my defense, he was wrong,” you said, laughing.

Oda’s smile grew, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift.

The night stretched on, the bar gradually emptying until it was just the two of you and the bartender cleaning up. You leaned against Oda’s shoulder, your heart steadying with the rhythm of his breathing.

“If we ever get out of this,” you murmured, “promise me we’ll find a place like this—a quiet little bar where we can just... exist.”

Oda placed a hand on yours, his grip warm and steady. “I promise.”

You didn’t know if it was a promise he could keep, but in that moment, you believed him. And for now, that was enough.

[snootlestheangel]

Just A Dude!Ghost Monster AU

Side note before this post gets rolling, I love that my post with the highest notes starts with "I don't know who else" and I think that's very reflective of what Tumblr is like XD

Anyways

We're doing it! We are writing a Monster AU featuring Ghost as the only human despite what everyone else thinks! As far as I am concerned, mostly gonna post it here on Tumblr, since I don't really have much right now for it, mostly just little blurbs but if needed for readability, I'll put it on AO3 (under my profile FeelzMaster)

I'm gonna go ahead and give y'all the rundown of what species are featured, kinda what this world's like, the stuffs, ya know? TW: talks of death (just how they can die, relax)

Soap

To be 100% honest, I really wanted to do the whole werewolf!Soap thing cause it's just so perfect for him, but I thought back to a post I made about him being lightning and thought HUH WHAT IF?

So, partially inspired by @tactax-art and their depiction of Soap dealing with fire 'n shit, I have made Soap a unique type of "nymph". Technically, nymph isn't the right word, but neither is elemental, and the true name of these things is so old it's real translation has kinda lost meaning so they stick to describing themselves as "nymphs" or "elementals".

He is a Lightning Nymph, which is rare but that's apparently what happens when you cross an "atmospheric" air nymph (his mum) and a less traditional water nymph (his dad). He's often seeing consuming/messing with things that have electrical charge in order to keep up his own energy (Gaz once had to watch him literally lick an exposed outlet and maintain a straight face). Every time it storms, he's outside somewhere as high as he can get so he can soak up the natural static energy that comes with storms. He can and will shock people for the fun of it.

As for abilities, he's obviously highly conductive, can manipulate electrical energy but it's pretty exhausting so it's more of a life or death thing, he can glow in the dark if he wants to, and he's hyper aware of changes (due to ~energy~). His diet is batteries... Jk, but seriously he does not eat like a human would, he straight up eats things that will help with energy. Like I said earlier, he's licked an exposed outlet like it was an espresso shot. Downside is he can't see for shit in the dark so he's reliant on sensing energies, nightvision, or having one of his buddies that can see in the dark guide him. Can be killed if his brain stem is destroyed, but is also very weakened by the typical stuff (gunshots, stab wounds, severe bodily trauama, etc). but can be severely weakened by being trapped in insulated rooms/wrapped in insulators. If exposed to these things and not able to find a sustainable source of electrical energy, he will die. (rubber, steel, copper are some good insulators)

Gaz

I don't know why but I'm gonna make him a Siren. For some reason Siren!Gaz just melts my heart and I wanna hold him. I don't care if he can lure me to my death with his voice, I wanna hear him sing :'(

He's typically pretty human appearing, it's a natural instinct for Sirens, but when he's tired or distracted (like working out/doing paperwork), you can start to see some very fish-like qualities. Mostly very gorgeous iridescent scales around his ears, eyes, neck, shoulders, knees, top of his feet, and back of his hands.

Can breathe underwater, has the best vision in the dark, eats like a typical person but with more sea food cravings or cravings for fatty foods (like human), when in full Siren form he doesn't have a "mermaid's" tail, it's much more shark-like so he can accelerate really fast. Generally just more shark-like, except his scales are fish-like. His nose, like sharks, is super sensitive to certain changes, so booping his nose always throws him off if it's surprise, but he will also bump his nose into people/things without realizing it to get a better sense of it. Can be killed by things humans can, susceptible to parasites.

Price

Honestly, his has been the hardest but I'm gonna do changeling. I honestly don't know a lot about them, and quite frankly I've already got one homebrewed monster here, so why not another?

He's definitely the one everyone mistakes for being human cause he's so good at keeping up appearances. But there are always times where Price manipulates his appearance/body just enough that it's a little startling for those that believed him to be human to suddenly realize he's very much not.

He's got better eyesight in the dark than a human, but nowhere near close to what Gaz has. He's good at picking up on scents though, as his nose is a bit more attune to sniffing out humans than anything. He's not a bloodsucker, but changelings typically feed on weakened/ill/very old/very young humans, so he's able to tell when something is wrong with someone. Stifles the more violent urges of his species by eating a primarily meat heavy diet with a lot of raw veggies for the crunch. Most susceptible to things with iron or salt (obvi) but can still be fatally wounded by stab wounds/gunshots. Most other stuff won't kill him but it'll certainly hurt and he'll complain the entire time.

Alejandro and Rudy

These two are werewolves and Los Vaqueros is their pack :'). Most Vaqueros are also werewolves, but they do have a variety of other creatures commonly found in North America.

And finally, the whole point of this: we got our boy Ghost as a literal human being. Nothing more, just a dude. A dude with so much fucked up shit happening to him constantly it's just assumed he must be inhuman. NOPE! He's just a dude, a very very unlucky, and probably cursed, dude.

So yeah, that's what I have so far! Working title is "Cheers to the Unknown"

Taglist (if you want added let me know in the replies/reblogs): @tacticaltaxonomist @cthulhusstepmom