#I usually don’t share my writing

[theusisthebadplace]

The absolute lack of human decency is truly startling these days and is leaving me at a total loss for words.

Liam Payne was a person.

He was a person.

A person.

[wundrousarts]

Something I’ve noticed for awhile is that I often get comments from people about how they are surprised how I always come up with theories and try to guess what might happen and they “could never do that” themselves. I want to say: yes you can! There’s honestly a shortage of Nevermoor theories and ideas and speculation and etc and I want to see MORE!!!

Want to talk about how Morrigan’s mom is actually secretly alive? How the Scholar Mistresses are a Wundrous Act? Do you think the Tempus Divinity looks like an owl, or do you think Weaving and Ruination would be met together? Or have you ever thought about how this one line, from Chapter 19 of Nevermoor, about Betram Crow actually means he was a Cursed Child? Whatever it is you want to talk about: GO FOR IT!!!

I personally find it very fun to go sort of “English class mode” and look at the text in front of me and think about what different things might mean and analyze it and even overthink it to an unnecessary (but fun!) amount. But that’s just me and how I like to approach things! You don’t need to make long posts and quote specific lines if that isn’t your style. The big thing to remember is that so much can happen in the next six books, so throw any idea out there! You never know what twists and turns will be thrown at us. I think it’s fun to share these ideas and discuss with other people— sure, maybe there’s just something you missed when reading, but perhaps some new ideas spawn might from it. Some speculation could even serve as inspiration for fics!

There are some theories and thoughts that I’ve posted that have been “debunked” when I reread a book, or when someone pointed out something, or even just when something had a real-world basis that I as an American didn’t catch. But it was still fun to think about it all, and there’s some bits and pieces that I see as notable and worth considering. I think most of the Silverborn Masterpost is going to be “wrong”, but if just 1% of it is “correct”, even indirectly, I will take that as a win. I know it feels like during the hiatus everyone’s talked about everything, but I hope that the incoming communal reread (fingers crossed) and obviously Silverborn brings some speculation back to the fandom because I want to discusssssss!

[hmsdoodlin]

Reassuring the Moon

Heart and Soul, platonic fluff, 791 words.

—————————————————————

Soul peeked his head into Hearts room, eyes adjusting to the darkness inside as he carefully stepped in and closed the door behind him.

It was almost pitch black in here, the only light being the soft moon and star fairy lights that gave off a weak, but comforting glow throughout the room. Heart was light sensitive, extremely so, but Soul couldn’t help but notice the way he gravitated towards softer, gentler lights such as nightlights and candles.

In cacophony the man would shroud himself in darkness, but in concord he began to welcome the warmth of the sun and its illuminating glow. Soul was thankful for the fact Heart was able to heal over that particular trauma, but also so he could finally see anytime he entered his bedroom.

Soul stepped over to Hearts bed, navigating the organized chaos beneath him. To Heart there were intricate, well known paths between scattered clothes, to Soul it was a minefield. His bed was messy, covered with multiple pillows and blankets with a large suspiciously human shaped lump sat under the covers. The stars sat next to it, pretending not to hear the stifled sniffles that escaped its barrier.

“{It’s me. You can come out.}” Was all Soul said, hoping that Heart was in a talking mood today. Now that they had reached harmony his ‘tantrums’ were few and far between, but it never hurt to be wary.

A head peeked out from the blanket, messy hair going in all directions as he turned to face Soul. He only sniffed in response, obviously trying to stop his crying. He seemed conflicted, doing his best to stop the trembling of his lips.

Soul sighed, leaning in to touch their shoulders together. Heart stiffened, but did nothing to move away.

“{Alright. Tell me what happened.}”

His voice was as gentle as he could muster, trained to handle even the worst of situations. He was well accustomed to these little meetings, and knew exactly how to coax his heart out of his shell.

Heart sighed, pressing back against Souls weight as if to ground himself.

“(Nothing in particular. It’s just, one of those days.)” He mumbled, wiping away the evidence of his tear stained face.

They all had these moments, still struggling with their thoughts even after their happily ever after. Soul hummed in acknowledgment, taking his words as the truth. They trusted each other now, Heart didn’t hide his deepest feelings as much as he used to anymore. If it were serious he’d say it, and Soul was content helping either way.

As if on cue Heart practically fell into Souls lap, lifting his legs over Souls and looping two strong arms around his neck. The stars welcomed the contact happily, cradling the warmth against him.

Heart hooked his chin over Souls shoulder, practically nuzzling into his hair.

“(I guess I’m a bit scared.)”

Soul instinctively hugged him closer, a bit taken aback by the confession.

“{Scared? What in the world could you be scared about my moon?}”

Heart huffed, seemingly apprehensive to share. The stars brought a hand to Hearts back, gently soothing circles into the skin and hoping the nickname eased his tension.

{It’s ok, I’ve got you} it says.

“(I’m scared that everything is going to end soon. That this is too good to be true.)”

Soul bit his lip, hundreds of loops flashing behind his eyes. It always ended eventually, harmony never lasted long. He took a breath, careful not to let his nerves show. Heart was right, in the grand scheme of things this was most likely a small blip in time.

Heart stayed silent in his arms, the stars having to forcibly bring himself back to reality by leaning into the warmth against him.

“{It might.}” He admitted, long done with lying to his halves. “{But that doesn’t mean what we’re experiencing now doesn’t matter. It brings us closer to true harmony in the end.}”

Soul had been trying to be positive lately, relishing in the little things before they were taken from him. They were far from perfection, but it was nice to pretend for a while. It was either that or being driven mad from failure, Soul took a page out of Hearts book to start living in the moment. Maybe that’s why concord this time around was lasting longer than usual, despite the persistent underlying feeling of dread.

He felt Heart smile beside him, allowing himself to calm completely. He pulled back to face Soul, imagining his weary face before him.

“(When did you get so sappy?)” he asked, freely allowing Soul to put a hand to his cheek. He leaned into it with a content hum.

“{The moment I finally started listening to you guys.}”

[fallminlove]

[00:48]

You stood at the bus stop, waiting for the last bus so you could reach your destination, your home.

In contrast of your home, tonight is one of the coldest nights you’ve experienced in a while. Unmelted snow piles, needling cold winds swirled around the bus shelter. Every time you breathe out, little clouds forms from your lips.

Though you’re bundled pretty cozily, the cold is still reaching for your hands, maybe today shouldn’t have been the day you forgot your gloves.

You rubbed your hands together hoping the friction can fight some of the cold, you peek out from the shelter time to time, it should be here soon, you thought to yourself.

The cold was way too powerful tonight, you’ve changed your method to hiding your hand in your sleeves and blowing hot air to it, suddenly another set of gloved hands reached to yours, you look up to see who it was.

The boy standing in front of you was equally fashionably and warmly dressed, a long brown coat, a black turtleneck that’s peaking out under his snuggly scarf, a pair of dark washed denims, sort of out of the ordinary for this time of the night.

As you were about to ask your questions, the boy seems like he has read your mind, “h-hi my name is Junhui, you can call me Jun, you seemed cold so I just, wanted to help…” While he was speaking his eyes keeps on dogging your gaze, as if he was a little kid that’s too shy to meet strangers.

You giggled at his shyness, “I appreciate your warmth”, which made him flustered even more. You guys chatted and kept each other company till the bus at last has finally arrived.

Jun got off a couple stops before you, as he was about to get off, he turns to you and says, “hope I’ve light a flame in your heart, you’ll never have to feel cold on days like these”.

[javierduffy]

I have been having... a very bad day. Any spare fluffy headcanons for the boys? (and maybe some nsfw ones if you're up to it-)

ohh no my dear helena !!! its unfortunate that you’re having a rough day today :( remember that everything is temporary and that this day, like every other hard day before (and all following after), will pass in its own time.

i can absolutely spare some fluff ! that’s all i’ve got !

• javier goes to bed at about the same time that kieran is waking up every morning, right before dawn, and it’s a common occurrence that he will forget to untie his hair before laying down for bed, especially after a long night of guard duty. kieran will notice every time, and knows himself how easily long hair can get matted, so he will beckon javier over so that he can untie his bow. usually, he’ll also take the time to run his fingers through javier’s hair to detangle it as well, so that he’s even less likely to wake up to knots. javier adores it, teetering with the weight of his head and leaning hard into kieran’s legs on each side of his shoulders- sometimes kieran will even indulge himself in giving javier a head massage. javier never sleeps better, and coincidentally, he began forgetting to take his hair down a lot more after moving out to clemen’s point ….

• javier snuck kieran his first bowl of pearson’s stew after ‘making a social call’. john kicked kieran off his horse at the entrance of camp and javier watched as the latter dredged himself through the brush to what would become his usual resting place behind the rock by the horses. he looked miserable, dead on his feet, and javier knew by then he’d been weeks without a meal. he was a dirty, disloyal, unholy traitor of an o’driscoll, but something about his sunken eyes, the shake in his hand as he lit his first cigarette as a free man again- likely to quell off the hunger- it urged javier to act in a way that he’d never felt before. javier could kill a man in cold blood easier than he could stand to watch fear starve a man even after his hands are free to reach for the bowl. the study for learned helplessness in psychology will come years later, but javier understands himself now through watching kieran’s instinctual desire to survive be beat out of him by the gang javier dedicates his life to. with a healthy amount of spite to himself, he scoops a heaping amount of fresh stew into the cleanest bowl he can find, and sets out to add a fresh layer of flesh to kieran’s prominent bones.

• following this, cooking for kieran is one of javier’s favourite things to do when they get together. javier will cook for him traditional mexican dishes from home (as best he can. both with his limited skills and also with his limited accessibility to the proper ingredients. (probably for the best that he can’t get authentic chili peppers from home and has to use a less spicy chili native to this northern climate. kieran does okay with spice but it isn’t in his genetics to truly have a high tolerance.)) and not only will it be an unknown love language from javier, to feed kieran and make sure he is full, but it will also be a love language from kieran, to let javi share a piece of home with him.

• ^ also applies to modern au javieran ! javier loves cooking, and especially for kieran. they would cook together, but kieran struggles to cook with other people in the room, and javier gets so absorbed in it that he’d likely be running into kieran or otherwise being unhelpful in aiding in making sure the dish is being cooked correctly because he’s too Locked In to guide kieran LOL but they’re more happy to simply keep each other company, anyway. kieran on the counter/table/floor, watching javier sing and dance to the music he’s blasting from their speaker. cue dancing in the kitchen when the love songs come on (here’s a good one (rip javier escuella you would have loved dannylux)). the parallel play and quality time with these two is off the charts

• come mid/late clemens point, the way javieran make most of their money for the camp is by going on days-long fishing dates, laughing and laying close to one another in the grass under a tree on the riverbank in the shroud of darkness. they come back to camp flushed as all get out but with stacks of cash in their hands wadded up so thick no one dares to ask where it came from. kieran will get excited at even the smallest of fish, perking up and sharing/asking javier for tidbits on the species. they never miss a bite, either. one time one of the bells on their bobber rods rang once and they both broke out of a very hot and heavy make-out sesh so fast that javier tripped on kieran and nearly broke both of their wrists. they laughed so hard about it, javier was certain that by the time he arrived to his rod, the fish had already successfully ripped the bait off of his hook. he reeled in a boot, at the end of it all. he never lives it down.

• kieran is ambidextrous, and javier is fascinated by it. javier stumbled upon kieran writing on one rare occasion, and noticed immediately that he was writing with his left. “left handed, huh ?” kieran cocks his head at him in thought. javier wonders why on earth he would have to stop and think about a question like that. “uhh, not really ?” well, now javier is simply confused. “right, then ? is something wrong with your dominant hand ?” “um … no, that’s not it either …” and at this point, javier is demanding kieran explain what the hell he’s talking about, and why he’s pulling a prank on him. cue kieran explaining and javier making him do all kinds of silly “tests” like writing, shooting, playing guitar (as if kieran is going to any better with either when neither of them can do it right to begin with) because he finds it so cool.

• modern au kieran gets overstimulated incredibly easily, so he’s got a pair of noise canceling over-ear headphones that he often wears to dampen sensory input and ground himself when there’s a lot going on. when it’s cleaning day, generally no matter what he’s doing, he HAS to wear his headphones. javier is left to dodge him the same way he has to dodge the cats when they’re weaving in and out of between his feet. it also leaves him to dance to his own tunes when kieran suddenly swoops or sways or dips him to the music only he can hear- though just as often, javier will catch kieran dancing by himself and he will simply be unable not to join him, even though he can’t hear what it is he’s dancing to. as overwhelming as they can be, cleaning days for javieran somehow always end up feeling more like a date than anything.

• on a similar note, kieran also wears his headphones to bed, and listens to asmr/white noise to sleep. the pressure helps him feel safe, and the silence of a room makes him anxious. he also has a terrible bedhead and rbf in the morning. both of these things javier finds incredibly charming, and if he ever does wake up when/before kieran does (incredibly rare), this is his pov (right before he tries to kiss kieran’s face off and gets shoved away with a sleepy giggle that only bolsters his aggression);

nsfw under the cut !

and how could i resist a chance to finally talk about this ;3€ ?? i’ll try to keep them fluffy !

(context, i hc both of them as tguys usually (though im content with writing javier as amab too), with both of them being absolute, unabashed switches. they have little preferences anywhere in terms of bottoming/topping, though kieran has a preference for subbing, and javier has no qualms with domming more frequently.)

• as much raunchy, animalistic sex that javieran have, they have double as much slow, loving, tender sex. and most times between, they’re having raunchy, loving, animalistic sex.

• javi loves to turn kieran’s brain off, he loves more than anything to make kieran feel so overwhelmingly pleasured that he forgets everything that ever has, ever could, or ever will happen to him. nothing gets javier off quite like seeing the face of bliss kieran makes when all he can think about is javier’s mouth/hands/cock working overtime just to make him feel good.

• both of them i think are quite vocal when they’re able to be, and kieran tends to be vocal whether he’s supposed to be or not. both of them often dissolve into whimpers and “i love you”s and praise like “you feel/sound/taste so good” by the end. their love for each other has a carnal grasp on every aspect of their sex lives as well <3 so they’re always speaking so sweetly to each other, even if the way they growl it seems violent

• javier LOVES love bites. he loves to mark kieran up and he especially loves to bite and lick and suck on his neck, not only because of the primal aspect of his jugular being so close (as well as the warmth of his pulse thrumming against his mouth), but also because it arouses kieran to the point of making him shiver nearly every time. javier has permission to bite him hard, but it’s pretty rare that he ever does, and it’s only late into their relationship does javier feel like it will be more pleasure for him than it would just be pain. sometimes he can’t help it though, he’ll get so worked up that he just latches on and the way that kieran tightens around him is mind-numbing.

• unironically i think kieran is a GREAT soft dom, and that is something that javier generally had never experienced prior to getting with kieran. javi thinks it’s hot to be man-handled and roughed up, and kieran can do his very best (despite the constant guilt and fear) if javier is really feeling it, but where he really excels is soft domming. once the nerves melt off, he’s so gentle with javier that it makes the latter’s skin hot all over. constantly praising him, cooing at him, asking him nicely, rewarding him for good behavior, all the while touching him oh-so-gently, it all makes javier feel so awkward but so, so good. kieran makes him feel so loved and worshipped that the world in which he has anything to question simply just fades away, and all he has to think about is doing what meager tasks kieran asks of him.

• they find so much peace in each other’s bodies. in every rib and wrinkle and sunspot, these two will spend hours simply exploring and enjoying the body of the other in whatever the closest form of “privacy” they can manage to acquire. turns out, kieran has sunspots all over him. turns out, javier has a keloid scar on the back of his bicep. turns out, kieran has a mole on his scalp right where his part is (this is canon btw i saw it once when i was studying him in photo mode like a specimen in a petri dish), and javier has back dimples, and kieran’s ribs stutter and dance beautifully when he laughs, and the flex of javier’s thighs warps his skin like a marble statue. javier escuella and kieran duffy love like artists, and they spend hours just learning and looking and studying each other, like a painter with his muse, like a writer with his words, like the last things they want to see while they’re dying are all the hours they spent learning the beauty of the other.

i could honestly come up with more but it would never leave my drafts, so i hope u like these that i came up with as quick as i could :’) ! i hope you’re feeling better and have gotten some good rest !! thank you for the ask !!!!!

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about how Alejandro is the type to tease you for your weapon of choice.

You’re at a table assembling your weapon when you feel the colonel peering over your shoulder “is that what you’re going with today eh?” You state your reasons for picking it and he says things like “hey I’m not judging yeah?”, “aha I’m sure it’s a good choice” but he says it in a tone that sounds a bit too playful and you don’t have to turn around to know he’s got a shit eating grin on his face.

But the second you leave your weapon unattended he’s making sure the weapon is operational for the mission, counting and recounting the bullets, checking for anything that could potentially go wrong and put you in harms way. When you come back to the table you have a suspicious look on your face, wondering what the colonel could have been doing with your weapon while you weren’t there. By then he’s back to acting all playful and innocent, hands in the air with a mischievous smile on his face.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Warning y’all in advance that I might have reached the end of my Fluffvember stuff :( Simply because idk if I’ll have time to write/draw anything else, I’ma lll ou of queued stuff. But it seems like some are still utilizing the prompts, so I hope everyone continues to have fun with it <3

[jelly-of-many-ships]

Intersting experience in math class:

I was doing some work while listening to the good omens soundtrack because it helps me focus and I love remembering which scene each track is from. Anyway, David Arnold (the composer) also composed most of the music for BBC Sherlock, which I don’t think too many people know (He’s amazing and I love literally everything he makes). And so when I finished the good omens album it started playing other music by the artist, which in this case, happened to be the BBC Sherlock intro.

I have not heard that song in almost a year in a half. BBC Sherlock was like a canon event for me, it was the first real fandom I joined and it introduced me to tumblr, fanfiction, and literally every concept associated with fandoms. Most pieces media Ive consumed, and definitely every fandom i’ve joined since then has been in some way because of tumblr, or other fandom spaces. Even good omens, which I am currently hyperfixating on to a frankly concerning extent, I was only introduced to via the domino effect of BBC Sherlock.

Why is this important? idk...backstory I guess? whatever, anyways, after awhile a fell more and more out of interest with Sherlock, and while I’d definitely still consider myself in the fandom, I’m just not really that into it anymore, especially since the rest of the fandom isn’t very active either. The year when my interest was the strongest was a very interesting time. I was really insecure and not very happy, but I had some amazing people in my life who I really miss. These two things, I think, are possibly the worst combination to have in terms of nostalgia, and I find that experiencing things that remind me of this period feels very strange. For example I physically cannot listen to some of the songs I added to my playlist around this time without getting really emotional, but I refuse to delete them because they really do feel like a part of me. From time to time I do remember the bad things and maybe feel a bit upset, and yet if I could go back, I know I would, just to remember what it was like to experience it all.

I don’t think I could ever fully explain it but BBC Sherlock genuinely felt like opening a very weird portal, and so when in the middle of math class, immediately after listening to the good omens track “the end?” and vividly imagining the end credit scene of season two, the Sherlock intro started playing, I felt such a strange mix of awe and nostalgia that I almost started crying. It sounds pretty stupid typing this up, but it was such a unique experience, and I don’t think I can really explain it. Good Omens is the only thing I’ve been even somewhat interested in to the extend of Sherlock, and after listening to possibly the most depressing song of the entire show, to have such a sharp reminder of who I used to be blast full volume into my head felt like diving headfirst into cold water. It really does sound stupid, but in that exact moment I remembered everything; the evening I heard that song for the first time, staying up for hours scrolling through pinterest and discovering the fandom, the first day I told my friends about it, the day i read my first fanfic, the day I was so convinced they were gay I accidentally discovered shipping (lol), the night I finished season 4, alone, at 2am, the day I joined tumblr, the week I learned how to play “the game is on” on piano, and the lunch period I wrote my first fic after daydreaming about it for weeks.

These things probably seem pretty mundane, but this was like a new world to me. They represent more than just discovering I new interest though. They’re some of the only memories I have of that time. I cut my hair, I realized I was queer, and for the first time in my entire life I had an actual friendgroup, one that I still care about so much. Life was, at the same time horrible, yet the best it had ever been, and I didn’t even know it. When I really think about It, I realize in actuality how little time has really passed, but everything feels so different. I think to myself that there’s no way that person was me, that the kid who had so much energy and enthusiasm for life, poetry and writing and had yet never felt so insecure couldn’t have possibly turned into the burnt out, powerless person I feel I am today.

At least I’m not so insecure anymore? I’m not so sure what to say. All I know, is I think that moment in math class made me realize how much I’ve grown, how much I appreciate those experience I got to have, and how much that song will always mean to me.

[prdx-invdr]

this pretty much sums up the entire fic i think

[alloutshirt]

//

[sarroora]

Sorry I'm late to the party! My favorite things about your fic is the darker atmosphere and lingering dread and despair from spooks departure and delicate situation. The angst of a broken family of misfits, trying desperately to repair itself and be whole again. And watching dibble, effectively their collective best friend/supporter/part-time spouse (clingy ass cats!), tear himself apart trying to both help them, and also keep his beloved career. I'd like to see more of this, chief!

THANK YOU SM AND WELCOME ANYTOIM

Oh moar angst definitely incoming in future chapters brace yoself-

(Honestly? I’m glad you think the growing despair of spook’s lengthening silent absence is well-felt. I always worried it didn’t come across well enough)

On the other side, poor Spook. He‘s in a very bad place physically and mentally. His health is deteriorating (literally), and he thinks Top Cat is dead. He doesn’t even know if the gang is still safe in Hoagie’s - because T.C.’s absence would lead to a whole slew of problems for them. And he blames himself for it all.

Dibble’s grown to love these cats over the years in spite of the problems they cause - especially T.C. - and he feels a responsibility towards them. It’s a very difficult position to be in-

What’s the right thing to do? Is it to do his job perfectly, allow no room for exceptions? Honestly, if he did, no one would blame him. He’d be advancing his reputation and career, and fulfilling his oath. But is that really why he became an officer of the law?

Or does he do what he thinks is right even if it went against what his superiors and the whole System says? What happens if people, especially those supposedly under his protection - end up falling through the cracks because upholding the law was more important than helping people with far less power and privilege?

[i-dont-even-know-by-this-point]

Howl’s Moving Castle (the book) is officially my new obsession thank you and goodbye

[hcdragonwrites]

Blossoms (a tidbit from my book)

Art by @neurocosmical - characters belong to me

So I was inspired to share a scene that comes up later in my books - one when Dominicus begins to realize something completely impossible for him- not after the damage that had occurred the first time. It is just a glimpse of what I am working on and I was encouraged to share it by the lovely friends I have. It is just a draft- so everything is subject to addition or subtraction but the essence of it won’t change. 💜🥺 I hope y’all like it

Dominicus took one look in the long wall length mirror that hung upon his wall and scowled. His orange eyes narrowed in disgust as he reached up to his antlered head. Upon one of the curving points a great mess of lichen and moss grew, dripping down like gossamer green lace. Dominicus gave a yank and the green life was torn from his antlers. He tossed it into the marbled sink, the green sharp against the white.

Soft mage light illuminated the blue framework of the bathroom, revealing a structure that, in itself, looked organic in nature. Silver branches of stone lined and cut through the blue and grey of the mountain stone. As another vicious ripping sound echoed in the bathroom, Dominicus tossed more green- and silver ichor dripped from the spot patch on his point.

Dominicus, Lord of Bones was one of the ruling Aspects, a being that upheld and governed the world beyond mere politics. He grumbled at his reflection in the mirror, the four eyes flashing in annoyance. Dominicus reached up again with another claw and ripped the lichen out. It went flying.

This won’t do! He looked like he had gotten his head stuck in a thicket and had pulled the rest of the green with him. The great Lord of Bones, The Harbinger, Bringer of Death and Calamity of Souls (as many of his titles claimed him to be doom and gloom), could not be seen with the soft growth and mossy patches growing from his body.

“Of all the days for my body to rebel.” He hissed. This would be difficult and painful to pull off. He had never grown this much in one night- had never dropped his guard to allow such feeling to swell in him and cause his dysfunction to show. Dominicus was the Harbinger - a veritable God of Death, if mortal standards could apply to Imbrians. He could not go into Echo, the capital, with his antlers velveted in moss.

Dominicus tsked as his mood turned more and more sour. He had meetings to go to, connections to make, and other Lords on the Obsidian Council to meet. He had no time for gentle pruning and sprucing. If the other Lords could see me…

Grimfire and Stardust if Pheon caught a glimpse of him-

A knock came from the door making the Lord pause.

“Dominicus ?”

Oh no.

Dominicus I’ve brought your Tea for you.”

A prickling began, an itching sensation. Dominick’s looked back in the mirror- and swore.

Oh no.

The spots the Lord of Bones had just ripped off, had torn and thrown like wet paper, had repopulated in little lichen tufts.

“Dominicus?” The door opened, and the Lord wanted to roar. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

For if he did, Dominicus would have the urge to defang and tear his antlers off. Because the little human that walked through the door with such an upturned and worried face, had somehow gained his affection.

Which meant he couldn’t roar or swagger or threaten his way out of this embarrassment.

“I heard you cry out and-“ Asphodels eyes became wide as saucers, her face blanching. “Dominicus! Your horns!”

“It is quite fine, Asphodel.” He grumbled, feeling the flush beneath his skin begin to spread. His ears flattened to his head, spines along his back clattering beneath his robes in disharmony. “A normal dysfunction I sometimes go through.”

“But … your bleeding.” Kindness- it was kindness he saw in his eyes and the great Lord felt his skin give a shudder.

“Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about.”Dominicus turned back to the mirror, a lip curling in both anger and embarrassment. He wished he could down his Antlers in acid. Maybe then I wouldn’t be caught in such embarrassing circumstances. Asphodel didn’t leave though. Instead she stepped forward. And stepped again.

“I have to get it off- GRIMFIRE! That STINGS.” He snarled softly, keeping much of his anger in check as he flung another growth down. He had learned quickly that his anger could startle her. Dominicus didn’t get angry often- but he did play the cold menace, leaning into the rumours and gossip that he was cold, calculating and every hungry.

Hands touched his arm and he looked down onto the small mortal.

“Bend your head down.” She asked.

“Why?”

“I can help you.” She motioned to the tools on his countet that he had forgotten in his shocked and embarrassed state. “If you must remove them- let me do it.”

“Um… how should I - ah yes.” She crossed her legs on the floor and patted the silver lined stone with a hand. She thinks me a dog? I should be insulted. Instead he felt all a flutter. Even as he tried to be cold, Dominicus was thawing in the simple presence of this tiny little flower.

“Settle your head here I’ll be able to reach it fine then” Asphodel smiled up at him, a flash of white and bright joy.

Fire and destruction, she will be the ruin of me. Dominicus felt his heart run and race as he bent his great frame down and settled it tentatively beside her. Asphodel walked up, gathering the tools he had abandoned in his anger. A pair of shears and a little knife were gathered up as she began tending him.

Dominicus watched. Ever since coming to Imera, his home, this little human had been so strange. At first he had been watching out of curiosity. No one came to the house of Imera, to the Court of Death (as the lords liked to snicker about), willingly. Zinnia had made the girl cook and then had brought her dripping and covered in juice from the broth to serve him. Zinnia had hoped this would have tripped and ticked the Lord to devour the soul of this mortal- and regain some of his lost power. Without stars to eat and cosmos to feed from, he had been slowly waning in strength and power. Zinnia did not understand that Dominicus could hear the souls as they died, could feel their fear as no Lord could, as they were sniffed out.

So of course he had refused. He had hopped to send Asphodel away, back to that frozen waste that these mortals came from. Instead she had snatched his robbed sleeve and begged to remain in service. Dominic us had never had anyone willingly hold or seek his touch. He was feared, a render of worlds. But she had sought his hand, his attention, even if it was only for a job.

Of course he couldn’t say no to her. And now look where they were. She was gently trimming, meticulously pulling the velveted lichen and moss from its home. When the cuts drew blood she staunched it with the sleeve of her tunic, staining it silver.

She shouldn’t use the good moonsilks. We have the swabs to use- Dominicus watched her continue dabbing with her shirt and felt his irritation from the moss antlers turn to playful teasing.

“Flower you have ruined your shirt.”

“Oh! Let me—“ she made to move. But he tapped her leg with one claw, motioning for her to continue.

“It’s alright. I’ll replace it. Just be more mindful in the future.” He chuckled “You’ve costed me a small trove of clothes in the past month.”

Dominicus watched her cheeks rise in Color and felt his body warm. A tingling and soft warmth started in his Antlers and Asphodel gave a great “oh!”

“A flower! I’ve never seen you grow a flower.”

No. That was impossible.

“Dominicus.”

“Yes.” He didn’t ask it as a question. He was too frozen- terrified of the reality that was coming to life before him

Asphodel brushed a hand over the antlers, the fingers cupping the growth that had appeared. It felt nothing like the moss and lichen he was used to.

“This suits you so much better then bare antlers.”

Dominicus rose suddenly, startling himself and her in the process.

“Thank you for the Tea, Asphodel. I can tend to the rest myself.” He kept his voice even even though fear bubbled in his throat. Please no please no please no please no-

“Oh- I’m sorry-“

“You did not do anything.” The fault was all on him.

Him and his stupid heart.

As she left the bathroom and he closed and flipped the lock on the door, The Lord turned back to the mirror. There sitting on one of the branching curves was a very fine and very white blossom. It hadn’t bloomed, hadn’t begun to flood with color like the last one did.

A blossom. A bloom. It only meant one thing.

He was in love.

[babyboywilson]

thanks for putting up with all my babbling headcanons and drabbles today! I love y’all mwah mwah <3

[tariah23]

If look back is getting a movie fr, I swear I’m gonna start bawling rn

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Ghostbur!! Hehehe

FOXIE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING AN ASK WITH HIM ALSHSKSVSKSVJA HE IS MY GUYYYYYYY

I am so. Normal. About him <3 (I’m not normal about him at all he is my favorite if Ghostbur has one million fans I am one of them if he has 10 fans I am one of them if he has 1 fan I am that fan if he has no fans I am literally dead he is my most favorite I love him so much oh my gosh him he I love gah yes akdvsksvskzhksvsjavs)

HEADCANONS!!! YES!!! SO MANY!!! Some examples are: he has sensory issues (dirt under his fingernails really bothers him, and he absolutely adores his yellow sweater because Texture) and he understands Friend/animal speak quite well, and he does Not wear a shirt under his sweater alsvskdvksvsj

I project onto him… a little bit? I try to keep myself kinda distanced from the characters I write about, because I want them to feel authentic and distinct and not OOC, but I relate to Ghostbur a lot and definitely include things that I’ve experienced in his fanfics—though it has more to do with specific feelings as opposed to situations.

*gently holds* *admires* *eyes get big* *walks around while staring at him* *wordlessly shows him to friends* *gently holds* *admires* *tears up* *I love him*

The takes this fandom has on Ghostbur make me so upset 😭 It’s like… I want to make a longer post about this actually, but I’ve found that a lot of people either…

A) Infantilize him; treat him like he’s a toddler/very young child; think that he doesn’t understand a thing about the world; make him not care about other people because he’s too naive and childish; make him talk like a child. Basically, they get rid of all his complexities and thoughtfulness and uniqueness and reduce him to a dumb, shallow shell of a person. It’s frustrating and it’s hurtful and it’s awful.

B) Remove all aspects of his happy personality; make him quiet and depressed; make him dull, deeply emotional, and nothing else; see him as almost this… god, or other-worldly being who never smiles or has a carefree thought; is Depressed. This view doesn’t infantilize him, sure, but it also gets rid of the things that make Ghostbur… Ghostbur. This view removes every happifying, fun, innocent and wonderfully unique part of him, reducing him to Depressed Guy.

In actuality, Ghostbur is both innocent and plagued with thoughts/feelings too heavy to bear. He’s carefree in some areas and deeply thoughtful in others. He has a youthful mindset and is able to think through things in a mature way. He’s deeply emotional and experiences a wide range of emotions, not just sadness or happiness. He does his own thing, perfectly content to spend time with Friend on a walk, and is deeply attentive to the emotional state of others, doing his best to help them.

Ghostbur is just as complex as any other character—actually, he’s much more complex than a lot of other characters! It makes me so sad and frustrated when people reduce him to either of those two views I listed, because those aren’t Ghostbur. That’s not how he’s portrayed in canon, and that’s not who he is.

Oh that got long didn’t it-

Anyway!

Ghostbur was done dirty by cc!Wilbur canon my goodness 😭 In addition to living a short, angst-and-pain filled life, he ENDED UP IN LIMBO WITH NO ONE AND HE STAYED THERE FOR YEARS ALL WHILE BELIEVING HE DESERVED IT!!! LIKE. I MEAN I’M A WRITER, I LIKE SOME GOOD ANGST, BUT THAT’S JUST TOO MUCH. I MEAN SERIOUSLY.

And it’s made even worse by the fact that he’s still in limbo, even if he has Friend with him. I never thought I’d wish for another Reddit fanfiction, but I mean… it can only go uphill from here, right?? I just WANT WILBUR TO GIVE HIM A HAPPY ENDING THAT IS ALL I ASK 😭😭

Ghostbur is very silly, and that’s a big reason why I like him so much!! He’s just fun :D

Okay I’d replace kiss with hug akdgsjsvsksg but that’s still a big deal because I’m not a very touchy person—physical touch is my least favorite love language and in most cases it just makes me feel uncomfortable—but I would gladly run up to Ghostbur and hug him. He needs a hug :’(

I mean… pretty much All The Things have already happened to the poor soul, but if, for whatever reason, he truly dies—as in, ceases to exist at all, even in limbo—I will probably actually just Cry. I would just cry.

DUDE THIS GOT SO LONG THIS IS A FREAKING FICTIONAL CHARACTER BINGO WHY IS THIS SO LONG