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tozettastone · 2 months ago

Note

For the prompt ask:

1. Deidara & Sasori are isekai-ed into a fandom of your choice

2. Any Naruto character is isekai-ed into a xianxia story

I'm going with 'Deidara & Sasori are isekai-ed into a fandom of your choice.' Except I actually asked @mixelation to pick the fandom, and they gave me Hannibal. :)

Sasori Akasuna, if that's actually his name, runs a tiny gallery that can't possibly be making enough money to sustain itself. It's three floors tall and skinny, built of dark brick some time shortly before the turn of the century, and it stands tall and straight among its huddling neighbours in an out of the way bend of an ill-favoured river, where the smell of refuse rises and falls over the course of the day as the current passes.

Will Graham parks across the river and walks there with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. He is here to talk to the owner, a man with whom it is almost impossible to get an appointment — unless, apparently, you are law enforcement.

The FBI has reason to believe he might be connected to their latest killer.

The reason Hannibal has come along is... less constructive.

"He's a tremendously skilled artist," he says, walking at Will's side with a spring in his step. Will can't equal his enthusiasm, just as he can't equal his hand-tailored woollen coat. "But he speaks to nobody. I wonder if he finds other people distracting."

"I'm not here to talk about art," Will points out. He can't help himself.

He's also not sure that what Sasori does is art. Call him uncultured.

When he makes to Sasori's place of business, the front window is entirely taken up by a taxidermy chimera: the big cat's head separated from the cervine body and a pair of vulture wings that must be almost a metre each. In the gaps, there's a steampunk nightmare of gears and chains and strange brass designs.

It must be associated with some kind of motion sensor set-up, because as they approach, the mechanisms begin to move and so too does the chimera, piece by immaculately preserved piece: the head turns, the cat's jaws open to show long sharp teeth, the wings curve.

"Magnificent," breathes Hannibal. "Look how smoothly it moves: bird and beast all in one. It could be alive."

"It's certainly... unique," says Will, clipping the words.

He flashes his ID to the black eye of the camera in Sasori's doorway, ignoring the way the cat's head follows him from the window display, teeth bare and eyes utterly empty. The intercom hisses with static. The door clicks open, allowing them both into the building.

It isn't noisy on the street, but the second they enter all the sounds from outside disappear utterly. The river, the distant traffic and the crying of the crow perched upon the bridge railing are all equally lost to an oppressive hush.

The carpet is old. The floor creaks. There's a smell in the air of an old place that sees little daylight.

The air is the slightly cool room temperature familiar to conservationists everywhere. A dehumidifier waits like a silent sentinel for when its services are needed. And lining every wall, case after case, shelf after shelf, are relics of the dead.

Hannibal pulls off his dark coat and slings it over his arm, revealing a powder blue, three piece suit that fits him like a glove, and immediately goes to inspect a case full of colourful birds.

Will doesn't remove his outerwear. He is distracted. He spins slowly, taking in the room.

Dead things stare at him from case after case, climbing up the walls. Their veins and bones and guts are all internal machinery now, and their eyes are glassy and blank. Sasori is indiscriminate about his animal models: there are goats and bulls alongside wild cats, bears and the snarling faces of wolves. Some are combined with each other into fantastical chimeras; others are perfectly lifelike.

Will spots a dog. Its face is so well-preserved and lifelike that it might be about to bark.

The centrepiece of the room, standing tall and proud, is a stag. It is magnificent: four or five years old, with heavily muscled neck and shoulders and enormous antlers. It makes no noise, but its ears swivel to follow them through the room, exactly the way a live buck's would.

It sure is... something.

This, Will senses, is Sasori's design. Careful. Precise. A perfectionist. He is exacting in his demands for these works: You will not rot. You will last forever. Or else.

Will licks his lips. He glances at Hannibal. It's impossible to say if he also senses the driven and aggressive personality behind these artefacts. If he does, it won't show.

Will is so distracted by the vast array of creatures that he doesn't immediately notice Sasori Akasuna himself arriving.

The first he knows of him is a sharp voice saying: "Don't touch that."

"I apologise," Hannibal says easily, turning away from a dead lammergeier, which is frozen with its wings spread and its body hunched, as if defending prey. (It is the only bird whose diet is mostly bone. Sasori has made its bones into metal.) "The work seemed very fine, but I'm unfamiliar with the taxidermist's craft. These extraordinary specimens retain more mobility than I've yet seen elsewhere."

He might say he's unfamiliar, Will notes, but Hannibal is undoubtedly a man who has seen a great deal of taxidermy.

Will turns to look at Sasori, too.

Clearly Hannibal has found and sighted the man, but for the space of one whole breath, Will can't even spot him.

It's impossible to tell Sasori Akasuna apart from the rest of the room. In that second, he blends in seamlessly with all the perfectly-preserved creatures on display.

Then Will exhales. That's stupid. He can see Sasori just fine. He's the only other human being in the room. It's not that cluttered.

Although by all accounts he's been in this one spot for almost a decade, Sasori looks no more than twenty. He is a short, slight man with at least one East Asian parent, although he has no obvious accent. His hair is dyed a shade that could be called any number of things — dark cherry, merlot, garnet — but which Will naturally associates only with blood. His skin is as smooth and unblemished, like a doll's.

He's wearing a dark, oversize coat and sandals that reveal his toes, which seems like a strange combination.

"The puppets are built and preserved for performances," Sasori says, turning his face to Hannibal. "Art is my calling."

"So I see! I have heard your performances are magnificent."

Magnificent, yes, supposedly — but also invitation-only, according to both the brief from Jack and to Hannibal himself. Will himself is reassured by this idea, because he definitely doesn't want to watch these dead things all come to life.

"Yes. They are." Sasori's eyes drift from Hannibal to Will and back again.

Even to Will, who can empathise with a brick wall, it is challenging to read any expression on his face. Botox, he thinks. It explains how young he looks, too. A little. If you don't look very closely.

Will tries to match the man to the creations. There's something missing. He can feel it beneath his ribs.

But he's not here to think about what's wrong with Sasori. It's the man's broader network that seems suspect. A small favour. Still, he can't stop picking at it.

What's he missing?

"I have heard," Hannibal is pressing delicately even as Will furrows his brow and tries to make sense of the picture before him, circling around a fever dream of a creature crafted from the remains of a wild cat, a goat and a peacock, "that some performances have a guest list so restricted that the invitees are not permitted to know or speak to one another at all. That they must arrive in masks and veils, and are forbidden to remove them until they leave again."

Will startles and half-turns towards Hannibal. What?

Sasori doesn't even blink. "Yes. What do you want?"

There's a hesitation. The world pauses for breath. Hannibal goes quite still, but Will can see from the set of his shoulders beneath his immaculate pale suit that this abrupt demand has annoyed him.

Presumably he wants to talk for forty minutes about the nature of art before they get to the mass murderer.

"We have some questions about a man who used to live here with you," he interjects, before the interaction can go even further off the rails.

Sasori blinks, eyes rolling in a strange and unsettling display.

Like a doll himself, Will thinks. Then he blinks the thought away.

He can't be a doll. That's... ridiculous.

"Deidara," says Sasori. "What about him?"

He says it so certainly. He has only ever had one housemate here. It's unclear if they were only housemates.

Will takes in Sasori's entire person with a look. He glances around at the displays.

"A fellow artist, I'm guessing," Will says, taking a leap of intuition. Who else would live with a man like Sasori?

Sasori's doll-like eyes fix on Will. "Deidara believes himself to be an artist, yes."

'Believes himself to be' is a strange way to put it. Does Sasori have a leg to stand on, when it comes to who is really creating art? The distance might be very obvious to Sasori himself, but it's not particularly clear to Will.

"We believe he might have bombed a church and killed sixteen people," Will says, watching carefully to see how this statement lands.

Sasori does not look as though this surprises him in the slightest, but it's hard to say if that's meaningful. Sasori has so far displayed the flattest emotional affect of anyone Will has ever interviewed.

It's so marked, in fact, that the ancient reptilian part of Will's brain keeps insisting that Sasori has more in common with his artworks than the other humans in the room. Will would like to rise above the impulse to believe his instincts in this case. Flattened affect is a symptom of a wide array of disorders and disabilities, and none of them are inhuman.

"And?" Sasori prompts. "What questions do you have for me about it?"

There's not even a hint of doubt. Sasori clearly believes his housemate capable of building and detonating a bomb in an act of premeditated mass murder. That's important, too.

Frustratingly, Will can see why Jack wanted him to do this interview, even though on paper it feels like a waste of his time. Sasori is hard to read and very, very strange.

"We'd like to ask a few questions about the last time you were in contact with him."

Despite his entire personality, Sasori seems outwardly pretty cooperative. He has a precise memory, and seems to recall the details of text messages — the pair's primary method of communication, even when they were living in the same house — to the minute of their receipt. He is meticulous.

Will already told the behavioural analysis unit that the bomber was acting out some kind of aesthetic compulsion, but Sasori seems to understand it in more detail:

"Deidara uses art to embrace the transience he believes is the end state of all things by unmaking artefacts in the span of a second, usually explosively," Sasori says. Then, apparently unable to help himself, he adds: "Transience — the art of a single moment — is an incoherent and flawed thesis."

"The simple passions of a mind that cannot grasp eternity," muses Hannibal, running his knuckles over the glass that separates him from a dead monkey, which is trapped, forever, screaming silently in rage. This is a rather romantic assessment, but the statement certainly captures Sasori's attention.

"Yes," he says slowly.

Despite what he actually says, he does not sound entirely as though he agrees with this assessment. It is at precisely this point that Will realises Sasori and Deidara are not artists making ends meet as indifferent housemates. They are life partners of some kind. They are very probably lovers.

Sasori says hasn't seen Deidara for a week. This meets their timeline perfectly. Will doesn't — cannot — trust it. But he can either write the answer down, or he can tell Sasori he thinks he's lying right to his blank doll-like face.

He licks his lips and writes it down.

"Before we go, Sasori," says Hannibal, hesitating before he pulls his coat on again, "will you tell me something?"

"What?"

"Do these chimeric creations represent the pinnacle of your art? Are they what you display at your most secret performances? Or is something more challenging the star of your show?"

There are some dogs who, once they've bit down on a man's limb, have to be choked out before they'll let go. Hannibal occasionally reminds Will of just such an animal.

"No," says Sasori, tonelessly. "The chimeras are not my most important works."

That's when it happens.

It always does, with Will. Eventually.

For one hideous, dislocated moment, Will Graham understands this man totally. He can see what grotesqueries might lie in the workroom above this display, just by looking Sasori in his lifeless face. He can almost feel the hours of meticulous work in his own hands and back and shoulders, turning the coarse materials of the human body into works of art that will last thousands of years at least.

He has no respect for their bodies. He doesn't care about the person who inhabited each physical form at all. They are raw materials. It is the work of his hands that renders them art. His towering ego is in every touch.

For a breathless, hanging second, the hollowed insides and smooth articulated limbs and wired jaws of Sasori's victims are beautiful to Will, too.

Then that second is over.

Will's brain screams that Sasori isn't a person.

This time, Will believes it. Oh, he may once have been human. But he's not, now. Sasori knows it — he's proud of it. And because Sasori knows it, now Will does, too.

Will does not feel sick. Feeling sick requires internal organs. Right now, Will can't feel anything.

"That's all we need," he says, sounding just as flat and toneless as Sasori. The thump of his heart feels strange and hollow, like the heavy ticking of a metronome. Thump goes the meaty clockwork that moves his body, so loudly that Will almost startles at each shocking new beat. "Thank you for your time."

Sasori doesn't say they're welcome. That's because they're not.

When they exit the building at last, the outside sounds are deafening: the river roars, a dog barks. Will's heart is no longer the primary feature of the soundscape.

He goes back to his car, a little too fast to be polite. He sits in the driver's seat and clutches the steering wheel. Hannibal closes the passenger-side door with a thump a minute later.

"An interesting man, wouldn't you say, Will?"

Will starts the engine and gives it a few moments to warm. He talks when he pulls out from his car space and into the sparse traffic of the little-travelled riverside road.

"I'm not sure," he says slowly, "that Sasori Akasuna is a man at all."

"Ah," says Hannibal, unshakable and sanguine as always, "the perennial question of philosophy."

"I was thinking more about... biology," Will admits.

"Were you?" A pause. "And what did you conclude?"

He's a doll, Will thinks. He's a doll and he makes other people into dolls. If you cut him, I promise he won't bleed.

But these are not the kinds of thoughts a man tells his psychiatrist if he wants to keep doing field work. And so Will ignores the great shadow that passes between himself and the sun — the towering shape of Sasori's preserved stag, moving with all the beautiful mechanical efficiency of a polished watch escapement — and instead says, "He's lying about the bomber. They're close."

"Hmm," says Hannibal, as if he doubts it. But in the end he only raises his eyebrows and tilts his chin inscrutably. "I suppose we will have to see."

(Will isn't a gambler, really. But would bet virtually anything that Hannibal will be receiving an invitation to a performance very shortly.)

#ask #anon #hannibal #sasori #deidara #akatsuki #my fic #naruto fic #prompt fill

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holybibly · 7 months ago

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A fever that will have no cure. Fourth teaser and Omegas MATZ and their little Omega best friend

Super Shy Omegas MATZ x Omega reader

You have always been a very gentle and shy bunny, and an Omega as well. Until Yeosang adopted you, life wasn't easy for you. Your amazing unnie was the best owner ever. You were his little princess, and he treated you like royalty.

Imagine your surprise when he introduced you to two other bunny hybrids belonging to his best friend, Wooyoung. Apart from the fact that both Seonghwa and Hongjoong were absolutely charming and gentle with you, both of them were Omegas, just like you were. From the very first second of your communication, you had the feeling that the three of you would be best friends forever. And that, of course, was the case. Until something started to change between the three of you,.

You completely didn't notice the fact that their touches became longer and more frank, how sweetly they said your name and loved leaving their scent on you, or how jealous they were of the magnificent Alpha San, the most beautiful cat hybrid you'd ever seen, when you gave him your full attention.

But one night, everything is going to change. When a thunderstorm starts outside the window and the power goes out in the house, the three of you are left with nothing to do but share your bed and maybe your sudden heat.

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redtsundere-writes · 5 months ago

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Runaway | Uzui Tengen & Wives

I decided to finally post this fic. Hope you guys like it as much I do! Woohoo!

Uzui Tengen & Wives x f!Reader

Summary: You have never owned anything in your life. You had no money, no properties nor a healthy partner even. Your time and body were the only things you had, so the idea of marrying a man who only wants to control you terrifies you. Until, a ridiculously big and strong man decides he will marry you no matter what.

PICK YOUR FAVORITE!

AO3 or Wattpad?

CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW ↆ

It was another summer night. Warm winds brushed against your arms. The violet trees swayed gracefully against the currents. You infiltrated the strange dwelling among the violet leafy trees until you reached the armor of the land. You had arrived at a traditional wooden house where the lights were still on despite the hour. The place was huge and spacious, surely it had many things of high value inside. According to the information Mr. Matsuda had given you, the retired leader of the demon slayer corps lived here. That detail made you feel insecure to enter the place.

“He is blind and dying. Also, his guards are common women. If you infiltrate as I taught you, you'll be fine,” the old drunk assured.

What you hadn't anticipated was that the blind and dying man would have visitors that night. “Looks like I'll have to wait until the visitor leaves and goes to sleep” you planned in your mind before sitting comfortably in the tree you just climbed. Your hands arranged the scarf over your hair to cover it completely so that your eyes were the only ones uncovered. Hours passed, and the visitor never left, but the lights went out. All you could pick up was that there were two adults in the area and several who appeared to be children. “A family?” you thought, not quite sure of your hypothesis.

You waited another hour going deeper into the night and decided to strike. The entire house was free of locks or fences, it was an open place. The only thing there were paper doors everywhere. You crept into the place and to your impression, the living room had no furniture, that was already a bad sign. There was only a table with a tea set on top and comfortable cushions, but the walls were bare, nothing decorative in sight and there was no hint of luxuries. “Did that old man set me up?” you thought annoyed, but you couldn't give up so easily, you had to dig deeper.

With the gait of a cat, you went through the other rooms and there was nothing at all. You passed by the guest room and saw the visitor who hadn't left. A ridiculously strong man, with long white hair, large in height, and yet he slept like a baby. You had never seen a man with such proportions. Mr. Matsuda was tall, but he was not an albino beast like the one in front of you. His back was to you as he slept, so you couldn't see if he was wearing anything of value.

You refocused on your task and moved on, you passed into another room where the owner of the compound was sleeping peacefully. There wasn't much there, except for a magnificently displayed katana. “That screams money” you thought happily at the discovery. You crept up to grab it from both ends, the second the metal squeaked you felt a draft rush towards it at tremendous speed. You didn't think twice and unsheathed the katana. The metals clashed in a duel.

When you blinked you saw that the burly guest in pajamas was in front of you with a sword two centimeters from your face and the only thing stopping him from slashing your face was the katana you had drawn. Your arms began to tremble from the force he was applying. You looked at the deep fuchsia eye he had uncovered to try to decipher his next move, his other eye was covered with a diamond-studded patch. How did you get into this situation? Everything all happened too fast for your liking. Finally, the man decided to push his katana against “yours”, causing you to fall sitting down and drop your blade. The white-haired man pointed his sword at your unfamiliar face.

“Human or demon?” He asked directly. Then a candlelight flickered behind you and a couple of girls entered the room, panicking.

“What's going on?” The boss said as he got up tiredly from his bed.

That's when you realized that the old man was not only blind, but seriously ill. He had a rather grotesque mark covering his eyes. The chillingly similar girls quickly arrived to assist him. The hulking man's katana resounded again, causing you to turn your attention back to the nearly six-foot man before you.

“I asked you a question!” “Fuck, it's true, they are demon slayers” you thought, quickly pulling the scarf off your face and raised your hands in surrender.

“I'm human, I swear!” You exclaimed in fright.

The man stared at you, not knowing exactly what to do. He analyzed you from head to toe. Your body was too small compared to his, but your face and hair shone on their own in the middle of the dark night. Your pink and full lips, your ruddy cheeks, and your adorable button like nose. Your hair was perfectly cut and vibrantly colored. He had never seen a face as unique as yours. She was like the personification of the very sun that warmed him in summer. The white-haired man felt his heart race at the mere sight of her. His eyes widened at this, as he was not used to a woman upsetting him in such a way, plus he had to be faithful to his 3 wives at home.

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none-of-these-days · 30 days ago

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Interviewer: Mr. Landgrab, what are some of your favorite activities outside of work?

Johnny: As a business owner there is barely any time for hobbies. But I enjoy a good match of tennis or golf. When in Mt. Komorebi I always try to get at least a few hours to enjoy the snowy mountains and go skiing.

Interviewer: Sounds tough! You probably don't have time for any pets, do you?

Johnny: My family owns a prestigious horse stable in the countryside of Brindelton Bay. I started horse riding at the age of 5 and still do so when time allows. Other than that, my mother owns three poodles. But I consider myself a cat person rather than a dog person.

Interviewer: Holiday season is coming upon us! Where is your favorite travel destination?

Johnny: I travel a lot due to work. I'd say my favorite destination is Tartosa. It's known for it's magnificent sun downers and exquisite cuisine. There is nothing better than enjoying a high class meal and some good wine while watching the sun down.

Interviewer: Rumors have it you're invited to Mr. Straud's Halloween party. What will your costume look like?

Johnny: I'll keep it traditional and simple. I enjoy high fashion - wearing silly costumes however is not something I'm especially keen of. I decided to go as a vampire. The suit was tailored by one of my favorite designers. It did cost quite the money but I say it's worth the price.

Part 1 out of 2 of CEO Johnny's introduction for @cawthorntales bachelor challenge. I hope you like this little interview Johnny did. I was figuring out how to offer as much info about CEO Johnny without it reading weird in his actual video tape (which will be posted tomorrow). So I decided to split things up. I think it's very fitting for succesfull business owner Johnny to do these kind of interviews.

I've also included the Halloween screenshots in this post! :D

(Also sorry if anything sounds off. English is not my native language and I'm running out of brain juice atm. I heavily relied on DeepL and hope everything makes sense.)

#sims 4 #sims 4 bachelor challenge #sims 4 johnny zest #sims 4 johnny landgrab #show us your sims #simblr #sims 4 simblr #ts4 simblr #bachelor challenge entry #part 1 out of 2

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 7 months ago

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Hey! Hope your having a good day! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.

He just lets them think they can beat him.

Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?

Sure. Do you mind if we stop for ice cream?

A Taste of Revenge

“You’ll never get away with this!” yelled one of the three Heroes from afar.

Supervillain smiled and just waved at them while flames and energy beams hit his forcefield without leaving a scratch. It was, in fact, the third time this month he was getting away with this.

The heroes were all new, of course. The town was too little for the closest hero agency to care about what was happening here, so they’d only sent their three youngest. Sometimes they popped in while he was minding his business. They always thought they’d found a way to break through his defenses, and were always wrong. He didn’t care much, amused by these three overgrown teenagers who were looking equally embarrassed and proud of their muscles, trying to speak loud to cover their awkwardness. There was no use hurting them. The hero agency would have sent someone competent in their place. If Supervillain was only mildly inconvenienced by them, and they were convinced to gloriously fight against evil, everyone was happy.

It was sunset. There was no time to sleep before another night’s work, but enough to take a break. Supervillain went home, put his citizen clothes on, called his cat who jumped on his shoulders, and went in his favorite ice cream shop. Coincidentally, it had a magnificent view on the shiny new heroes headquarters.

The door bell rang. The shop owner raised her head and smiled at him. He was a usual customer.

“Hello, Citizen.”

“Hello, sir. Hello to you two,” she added, nodding politely to his pet.

Supervillain smiled in return. To make sure he wouldn’t be ever recognized, he’d gotten a cat. Mister Whiskers was more than happy to follow him in his ice cream adventures, especially since Supervillain was the one who walked for them both. People asked to pet the kitty sometimes, but never gave his face a second glance.

“What will you take, sir?”

Supervillain pondered for a moment, answering then:

“When I was eight, my mother took me to see the ocean for the first time. I want three scoops of that memory flavor in a cup, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

She took a cup that she filled three times with white ice cream, then gently set her opened palms over it and closed her eyes. The scoops changed into a lovely turquoise. Mister Whiskers mewed with anticipation, opening and closing his mouth.

“And for the cat?”

“A kid scoop of Oyster-Caviar, lactose-free.”

She gave his orders to him. Supervillain thanked her and settled in his usual corner. While Mister Whiskers ate his own treat like he hadn’t already eaten thrice today, Supervillain took his time, glazing by the window. For the Heroes headquarters, it was the end of the day. Secretaries were pouring down the establishment. He looked at them with interest, wondering how many people was needed to manage three baby heroes. Sometimes they went in the ice cream shop, looking harassed, not giving him a second look. They never stayed long. It was just enough for him to memorize their faces and note their schedules.

Supervillain bit his lip to hide his smile when he saw the Heroic Trio getting out of the agency, their faces crumpled. Every time he saw them by the window, he wondered what would happen if they were coming here. Today, he realized that he was going to find out. After pausing, all three opened the door and went into the line that had been forming.

Supervillain took a spoonful of ice cream. It melted on his mouth as lightly as foam. It was a flavor of pure joy, with an aftertaste of melancholy. These holidays had not lasted long. Why rush his break, then? He was more than convinced that he wouldn’t get noticed, and if he was, well, that was too bad for the customers. Most of them didn’t linger anyway. They thanked Citizen and went out, hastily eating out outside, maybe because the Heroic Trio grumbled louder and louder about the wait. The line went down quickly until the moment a little boy asked for a cone.

“I can make all the flavors you want in the world, young man,” said Citizen. “Every memory, every feeling, every object, the weather, time itself, everything has a taste.”

The little boy thought long and hard, reading out loud the suggestions. After fifteen minutes, he made his choice:

“Chocolate.”

Ignoring the loud groans behind, he was about to merrily go out, when one of the heroes caught him by the shirt:

“You haven’t paid, kid.”

“She gives it to me for free,” explained the boy, pointing at Citizen.

“Really? Why is that?”

The kid shrugged, licking his cone.

“Sometimes, I do the dishes.”

“He’s right,” intervened the shop owner. “He’s done nothing wrong, let him go.”

Hero released the kid, who went away trotting and licking his prize, and turned back to the owner with a frowning face:

“What sort of business are you running here?”

Citizen raised an eyebrow:

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you see these suits, ma’am?”

“Well, yes-”

“That means we’re heroes. He-roes, you understand? We protect you all day, putting our lives in danger for you. We’ve just escaped the most dangerous criminal of this town. We’d like to give us a little respect.”

“But I didn’t-”

“You made us wait to indulge a kid who can take anything he wants? It’s bad business practice. Terrible, even. How can you make profits like that? It’s a wonder this shop is still open.”

The three heroes towering over her, the woman tried to look at Supervillain, the only customer remaining, but he avoided his gaze. He wasn’t about to blow his cover for that. Furthermore, Mister Whiskers had finished his cup and was now interested in Supervillain’s ice cream. He put it away, but as he avoided the cat’s insistent paws, he was still listening to the conversation, quietly readjusting his perception of his self-proclaimed foes. Kids they were, but bullies are of every age. He heard them making their choice (one Nova scoop, two Oncoming Storm scoops, one First Prize cup), and refusing to pay.

“ If you give free food to the bloody kid, I think you can afford to give us a free pass, too.”

The shop owner made the effort to laugh, throwing her red braid off her shoulder.

“You have a good sense of humor,” she said politely.

“I’m not joking.”

Ah, thought Supervillain, there you go. Citizen raised her tone, but they laughed at her:

“What are you going to do, use your power?”

“That’s not our fault if all you can do is ice-cream flavor', said another. “I’m sorry you can’t be a Hero, but not everyone is born equal, don’t take it on us.”

Supervillain stared at his blue ice cream melting, waiting for the shop seller to burst in tears and give in. That didn’t happen. Instead, she clenched her fists and said:

“I am more useful than you.”

The booming laughter of the Heroic trio filled the room, but the shop owner was fed up. She hit the counter with her little hand and yelled, covering their voices:

“I feed children who are hungry. I give people the taste of things they’ve forgotten and can’t have otherwise. I give people shelter when they need it. You’ve just set foot in the neighborhood and do nothing but cause property damage. I am the better Hero. Now get out of my shop.”

The laughs died out. With a stony face, one of the heroes went behind the counter, pushing her away, and took their orders by force.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said.

The doorbell rang when they left. A heavy silence fell.

The shop seller rocked slightly on her heels, burying her face in her hands. Supervillain looked at her, then at his now melted ice cream. His mom had offered him to see the ocean to cheer him up. He remembered why, too. Because of the day before. A school day. A bitter taste in his mouth. The wall behind his back. Kids with frowning looks and mocking smiles.

“Forcefield is not even a real power.”

“You’re so uncool.”

“What can you do, uh? Hiding like the coward you are?”

Supervillain sighed, shaking his head. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

He stood up, holding out a handkerchief to the ice cream seller. She took it without looking at him. While she blew her nose, he turned his eyes towards the Hero headquarters, looking at the Heroic Trio walking away.

“They’re kids,” he said. “They don’t know a lot of things.”

“That doesn’t give them an excuse to-”

“I know. They have no respect for powers that aren’t flashy enough for them. They’re the kind of people thinking that forcefields are for defense only.”

He smiled. All the windows on the first floor of the Hero headquarters exploded.

People screamed in the streets. The Heroic Trio came back running despite the glass shards flying, trying to localize the culprit.

“They have no imagination,” he explained pleasantly at the shop owner, who was looking at the scene with wide eyes. “They don’t know how impenetrable shields that can be projected from everywhere could be used otherwise.”

He glanced at the building now cut in two, shaking his head:

“I mean, how can they realize that this kind of shield could pierce any matter like a knife through hot butter?”

The heroes wanted to rush towards the headquarters, but bounced back. The forceshield was now covering the whole building, slightly buzzing. It didn’t stop there. It got tighter and tighter until the walls cracked and collapsed under the pressure.

“People inside-” squeaked Citizen.

“It’s the end of the day, my dear.”

The heroic trio was running around, getting people away, swearing and not knowing what to do. The forcefield didn’t vanish until the building was in ruins. Only then Supervillain turned towards the show owner. She flinched hard, but he only pulled out his wallet.

“Now, how much do we owe you?”

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.

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telvess · 1 year ago

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Record of Ragnarok: What kind of pet do they have?

I'm like Tesla 🤣

Jack

I once read that people who are broken or haven’t experienced much love as children tent to choose animals that are less popular and sometimes seen as bad omens, such as black cats or ravens. So I see that Jack has a rat as a pet. They are intelligent and very clean animals, with an unfairly given bad reputation, and I think that suits Jack very well.

Nicola Tesla

Hear me out, Tesla is the proud owner of a turtle. There's a joke going around turtle owners that every time the turtle does something - such as yawns or falls asleep - you take a photo or video of it and happily show it to everyone. This is Tesla. The entire science crew has a mailbox full of this kind of spam, and their all sigh whenever Tesla sends them a new video of his pet doing absolutely nothing.

Poseidon

I think he likes animals in general. He despises humans and most gods for not behaving as they should, but animals are themselves. They do what is expected of them, they are excellent at being themselves, if that makes sense. So Poseidon probably has a dog that he has trained very well. The dog listens to all commends and generally behaves very well.

Hades

It’s canon that Hades has a pet - cockatoo. These animals require a lot of attention from their owner, which makes sense because we all know how lonely Hades is. He is literally playing chess with it! The parrot probably knows some fancy words like „magnificent” or „mellifluous”, and a whole bunch of wine names that it randomly says. Adamas, by the way, puts some effort into educating the bird too and incidently teaches it how to swear.

Beelzebub

Given how little he cares and how little he CAN care, the only option he has is fish. He gives it a good tank, he remembers to feed it and that’s it. They just exist. Damn… how depressing…

Loki

Two options. First: SAND ANT FARM. He watches it from time to time, mocking the ants for poor direction choices or just messing up with them for funnies. Second option is ferret. Loki finds them both annoying and interesting. There’s no boredom with them.

Ares

Ares thinks highly about himself, after all he is a part of the most powerful pantheon and the son of Zeus. He believes that he deserves only the best, which mean that whatever animal he gets, it will be a pure breed. If he chooses a cat or dog, it will receives a golden pillow to sleep on, a silver food bowl, the fanciest toys, the best caretakers, and… „the best owner”.

Thor

Thor has a cat. Most of the time they simply exist in their spaces and don’t interact. But every now and then a cat comes to Thor and demands a scratch, which Thor gives without hesitation. Loki once overheard Thor talking to his pet in those rare moments. Surprisingly, he speaks in a very gentle and caring tone, almost like mother to her child.

Hajun

He probably has a tank full of dead fish. Never cleaned, never fed, never bothered.

Lu Bu

Lu Bu has a pussy. He had no intention of having a pet, so the cat had to choose him, and Lu Bu obligated. He gives it lots of scratches and plays with it. Lu Bu is unfazed by the claws. Hearing her meow when he isn’t close puts him in a fighting stance. Nobody hurts his cat girl.

Hermes

Budgies! The guy has a lot of responsibilities, he's probably the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up, but he still finds time for his melodious pets. They always get the best snacks and for some unknown reason they become very excited when Zeus is around.

Göll

She has hamster, as small and cute as she is. Göll tries very hard to provide it a happy life, which probably means she’s trying too hard. She asks all his sisters for advice, and knowing how many siblings she has, she probably ends up with very conflicting opinions.

Zerofuku

Definitely rabbit. They are both full of energy, do not pose a threat and just enjoy themselves on a clearing somewhere.

Buddha

He doesn't have a pet, but he occasionally looks after Zerofuku’s and Göll's pets. He complains that he doesn't have time and that he doesn't care, but in the end he has a great time with the rabbit and hamster.

Noah

I think he ends up with a pigeon. He just feeds it from time to time in the same place and slowly tames it. Before he knows it, the bird becomes a new part of his life. He tells it about his problems, about Luna, Jack, Mother Goose and Shakespeare. This pigeon has therapeutic properties.

Qin

Definitely a husky. I see just two idiots keep talking to each other and arguing over nothing. The more the emperor demands something, the louder the husky's tantrum will be.

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mitsua · 1 year ago

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Cooking their favorite meal after a tough day

Warnings: none Genre: reverse comfort, fluff

Series: Boku No Hero Academia Words' count: 0.21k

Y/n's . . . GN!

Mini context; you're already dating and sharing an apartment with your partner. When he returns from a specially difficult day of fighting and paperwork as the pro-hero he is, he is greeted with his magnificent S/o and a home-cooked dinner.

He would be so surprised and flustered.

Because you've both been having difficulties when preparing the food as your works' schedule normally interfere with each other's.

After some seconds of picturing the scenery in front of him, he could feel the tension on his shoulders vanish a little by the thoughtful act you did for him.

"Thank you so much, Y/n! I'll make sure to be the next one cooking for you."

Oh, but why?

Might be his first thought at the little figures of rice with the shape of cats with a mug of coffee next to them.

He proceeds to smile for himself until he notices you giggling, looking at him.

"Why's this kitten? Still, thank you."

Takes a minute to fully process the scene and immediately smiles as if his day was the best he'd ever had.

Goes to hug you and hopes his appreciation can be felt through this, still, he says:

"That was so kind of you Y/n, I'll try to make time for you this weekend."

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ryuichirou · 28 days ago

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Replies

One reply + suddenly a hc list today! About the animals.

Anonymous asked:

Normally I rather dislike ace and duece as a couple but something about your art makes it ok... or at least more so than normal

lol thank you Anon!

I’m glad the way I draw them makes it more appealing to you.

thestarlightfae asked:

If the twst cast were animals, which animals do you think they would be?

Hehe, I’m coming back to your last question!

I feel like we talked about similar topics every now and then, so for this post to not sound very repetitive I thought that I’m going to make it more difficult for myself and actually give everyone a couple of animals. I also tried not to be too obvious, but I’m not going to not call the Leeches eels…

Also there is no equality there, some guys have more animals than others :( Sorry!!

Riddle – a hedgehog, a mouse, a house finch… he just feels like a loud little bird sometimes lol He’s small but he could bite or prick or peck you. Of course, he is also a goldfishie..!

Ace – a fox, a red panda, a red cat. Always getting in trouble, but still pretty independent and sly, but also ekekek’ing happily when fed and spoiled. Capricious but also an idiot.

Deuce – a jack rabbit, a dog (a mutt), a rat… I don’t know he just feels like someone who could be a great and dear friend if you let him into your life <3 He is a little bit wild, but also easily tamable.

Cater – a ferret, a parrot (not sure which one), a husky-golden retriever mix. Kind of obnoxious and loud at times, but so incredibly magicammable! At the first glance at least, but he really needs an owner that understands him.

Trey – a bear, a badger, a turtle. Once again, Floyd’s nickname feels like it works perfectly for how chill he is… but he could still somewhat dangerous, even if he looks cute and cuddly.

Leona – a lion (shocking), a maine coon (is this cheating?), a panda. I don’t know man, he’s just here to relax, even if it bites him in the ass sometimes… but maine coons are supposed to be good hunters, so!

Ruggie – a hyena, a magpie, a raccoon. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure – he is excellent at finding stuff that he wants and taking it without anyone noticing.

Jack – a wolf, a kangaroo, an irbis. Sorry, he is such a pup it’s very difficult to think about anything else, but… don’t provoke this guy!! He’ll fuck you up!

Azul – an octopus, a Turkish angora cat, a ram. Very careful and anxious, but also gracious and smart… and super stubborn and scary when angry!!! Also, angoras love to swim! And have the most gorgeous blue eyes.

Jade – an eel, a scorpion... But I also want to acknowledge dolphins because of…certain shenanigans that they do… anyways, this one is a huge DANGER sign. Anything venomous feels pretty much like him.

Floyd – an eel, a shark, a husky-wolf mix. Once again, the first two are pretty obvious, but he is also a wild fluffy beast running around and yelling… when he feels like it. When he doesn’t, he is super lazy and gets very angry when bothered.

Kalim – a mongoose, a puppy (can’t even give you a breed, just a puppy, something super expensive though), a parakeet parrot. A mongoose is just too ironic not to pick, but he is also super friendly, excited and sociable! And colourful, of course. Always the center of all the attention.

Jamil – a snake (viper/cobra), a chameleon and a caracal cat. Once again, cautious, independent, ready to attack but very sneaky about it. Also very gorgeous looking, it’s difficult to look away even if you know it’s dangerous…

Vil – a peacock, a show dog with tons of medals and awards, a horse. Speaking of gorgeous… Truly a magnificent creature that knows his own worth. Perfectly fit, perfectly pampered and groomed, but also has quite the temper.

Rook – an eagle, a fox, a hound. I feel like it describes Rook pretty much perfectly… An excellent hunter, but also there is something so sneaky about him. But then you look at him and see someone who is very friendly and open-minded, just like a dog! Weirdo…

Epel – a bunny, a chinchilla, a Pomeranian. He would be so mad, but let’s be honest, am I wrong? The last one especially feels like a no-brainer to me: so small and oh so fierce.

Idia – a skittish cat, an anxious borzoi dog, a fallow deer. Somehow both a loner and enjoyer of good company… he is cute and long and kind of both gracious and clumsy at the same time.

Ortho – a dog (Cerberus!), a clione (sorry it’s too cute Floyd is right again), a tiger cub. The last one is probably kind of sudden, maybe I should’ve went with something flying instead, but he does feel like a little pouncing hunter sometimes…

Lilia – a bat, a sugar glider, a shrike. Small, adorable, but oh god how fucking deadly. The more I think about it, the more I think of how much of a shrike he is…

Silver – a jackalope, a unicorn, a hippogriff. All fictional animals because he is just that otherworldly lol Probably isn’t fair to everyone else, so I’ll make it even more unfair and give him three normal animals: a swan, a hare, a deer.

Sebek – a crocodile, a bull, a dog (Doberman or Rottweiler?). He is a such well-disciplined dog, but also stubborn and kind of easy to provoke. Still, he is such a pup sometimes.

Malleus – a monitor lizard, a crow, a panther. The first two are pretty explanatory, but I just couldn’t resist the last one – had to give him a big gorgeous black kitty.

#replies #headcanons

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roguelov · 2 years ago

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Cat’s Cradle (Part 2)

Summary: You were crafted by him, crafted to serve the Dreaming and dreamers of all kinds. You were granted the ability to alter your appearance, to the feline variety, to hide in dreams. You, however, never imagined falling in love with him. But, when he left to take care of a rogue nightmare, only to never return, your heart broke. So, you ran to the Waking and soon met someone new. But, when Dream returns, how will he react to find you missing?

Word Count: ~6.4k

Reader: Fem

Warnings: Some angst (abandonment and heartbreak), fluff, pining

Requested by the magnificent @chainsawangel

Part 1

Time continued, years in fact.

In a cramped apartment, books and papers stained with tea and ink, dishes scattered about on the counter and overflowed in the sink, furniture lovingly worn down, and all basked in the warmth of the soft sunlight peeking through the dusty window. It was hardly flawless, but it was beautiful. It was love, it was a home. And nothing ever changed.

It was a moment perfectly frozen - preserved.

A keen observant eye could tell those living in this cluttered home, filled to the brim with serenity and new found peace, has not changed. The house cat did not become lethargic with age, nor showed any flecks of greying fur. The companion - the owner - also did not age either. His eyes twinkled with an everlasting life, and would not slow down. He always spoke excitedly of the future, and the evolving world.

You were the keen eye.

You were not oblivious to his home, for it was your home as well. His collections - books, furniture, utensils and tools - were decades old, some of his clothes were out of date, and he spoke of events years old as if they happened yesterday. You knew of Dream’s siblings, and of their gifts. This man, Hob Gadling, was touched by Death, blessed by her.

An immortal had unknowingly welcomed a thousand year old dream into his home. However, despite your observation, you continued to hide the truth about yourself.

Why? Were you frightened? Fearful of his possible anger? Worried he may be hurt due to your lies?

Yes, but also no.

What you feared the most? You feared losing your home again.

You have become complacent in your new role. You enjoyed the roof over your head, even if a draft blew through occasionally. You loved hearing Hob’s voice as he spoke of his day or hummed a tune under his breath. You were comforted immensely by his kind, gentle presence. Your heart, finally, did not dwell on what you no longer had.

But, dreams rarely lasted.

It was time to wake up after years asleep.

Tomorrow, you decided. Tomorrow you will tell Hob the truth.

The next day, late into the afternoon as the sun began to dip, Hob unlocked the door to his apartment. Stepping inside, he closed the door with his back. All his weight leaned into the chipped door, trying to alleviate some pressure from his sore feet. Another exhausting day, he thought. He sighed heavily, and tossed his keys into a bowl beside the door. His bag slipped off his shoulder and plopped onto the ground with a thud. He clumsily kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his jacket and -

Movement. A dark ominous figure. Something lurked in his peripheral vision.

He froze. His body tensed as lifetimes of war and battles raced through his taut muscles. Yet, his delirious exhausted mind needed to catch up. His head whipped over to find a woman, sitting in his living room, staring directly at him. She was unarmed and showed no signs of ill intent, but Hob knew better. More information was always needed.

He slowly placed his jacket on the coat rack. His eyes darted around, assessing where she could have possibly come from. The window? Perfect access to the fire escape, and he left it cracked for his cat. The best bet. Another sweep across his apartment. Nothing was broken or taken. Everything was in their place, just how he left it this morning - how it always looked. His eyes, sharp and calculated now, snapped back over to the strange woman.

You, the woman in the chair, dropped your gaze feeling shame. “Apologies for startling you.”

Hob licked his lips, trying to keep his composure. “That’s, uh, that’s okay. I, uh, what -“

“I am no stranger, Hob Gadling.”

Hob flinched at his name. Yet, a twinge of familiarity hummed in his chest hearing his full name. It reminded him of -

“We have known each other for years,” you pressed.

“We have?”

Were you delusional? He thought.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands. “I know how it might sound, but it’s true. And … and I suppose a demonstration may help.”

Before Hob could react, the bizarre woman, who appeared in his apartment and spoke as if she was his friend, changed before his eyes. Under his intense watchful eyes, a woman - who sat with polite, somewhat rigid posture - shrank. Her back curled. Limbs shortened. Hair, fur, sprouted over her skin, while the clothes - plain shirt and pants - vanished into the thick fur. Ears, once rounded, moved on top of the head and came to a sharp point. The face became more animalistic with a wet, triangle nose and whiskers poked out. A tail snaked out and curled around the now feline which sat in his chair.

In a second, a time bending second, the woman changed into a cat - his cat.

You peered up at him with those wide eyes, eyes Hob knew fondly. You hopped down onto the floor, and as quickly as you changed into a cat, you were a human once again. You stepped towards him, only to backtrack and stay in place. Bowing your head in shame, you spoke softly, “I am sorry I never told you before.”

Hob swallowed, finding his voice and confidence again. He had witnessed many unusual things during his time, however this entire situation was now highly up there in ranks. He cleared his throat, “Well, this is certainly … interesting.”

Interesting did not describe half of this insane developing scenario.

“Yes, it is.” You agreed.

Hob hesitantly stepped towards you. “I … I am not upset - surprised and confused, yes - but I do have questions.”

“I figured as much.” You nervously swayed side to side as Hob continued to slowly approach you. “And I have questions for the immortal man who took me in.”

Hob blinked. He faltered in his steps, but then he just smiled. A endearing, wondrous smile. “Now, I think I have more questions.”

You sheepishly smiled, unsure if he was truly genuine; and part still feared what could happen. You avoided him, dropping your gaze onto the floor. However, a hand popped into view. Your eyes snapped up. Hob still smiled at you, somehow overjoyed by all of this. No signs of anger or hatred, only happiness and a sparkle of continuous surprise to what life may throw.

“A proper introduction seems right, at least before the interrogation,” he said with a little chuckle.

You eyed his waiting hand. You almost rejected him, reminding yourself to close yourself off to others. Heartbreak was a devastating pain. This would end. You would have your questions, he would have your answer, and then you would part.

But.

A gentle voice and a push urged you to take Hob’s hand.

‘My sweet dream, you are stronger than you know.’

You took Hob’s hand, shaking it. You smiled, kindly. “(Y/N).”

Hob beamed. “Pleasure. Hob Gadling, but I suppose you already knew that.”

A simple introduction spilled into a conversation which lasted hours. Each of you laid out most of your lives, of course with exception of a few things that were still kept close to your chest. You spoke of the Dreaming, of your life and duties, of old friends, and of a trouble which blew in and how you left for a new start. You skirted around completely mentioning Dream by name, instead you spoke of the ruler and your relationship with him.

While, Hob revealed he was, in fact, immortal - a blessing from a dark stranger. He spoke, in all the details he was willing to share, of his life spent over the centuries and the ups and downs that he experienced. He mentioned in passing a friend, one which he knew since the beginning of his life, but he didn’t say a name or any details about them. Something you honestly didn’t notice. Hob quickly rambled on, ecstatic to have the opportunity to talk about anything, and his current new interest in teaching the newest generation.

The night soon blanketed over the sky. You and Hob were both unaware and unbothered by the change happening around you. Story after story filled the shared space. Stories from centuries ago, stories that defied reality, stories of love and pain, stories that defined each of you.

Your eyes slid over, peering over to the cracked window. The sky was painted in his dark, all consuming, color with flecks of distant bright stars twinkling much like his eyes. You knew you would never escape him, but you wished you knew a single day of peace. You sighed, turning back to Hob, “I believe I should go now.”

Hob blinked, the long rattling of his story cut off. “Wait, go? Where?”

“Anywhere.”

Hob frowned. Sorrow, a deep heavy sorrow, weighed on your shoulders and in your eyes. It was a look he knew fondly. A look of longing, a look of a lost confused soul, a look he saw in himself when he lost his family all those centuries ago.

“You don’t have to leave,” Hob spoke softly. “I know my invitation to welcome you into my home was for a … cat. But, it still stands even if the circumstances have changed.”

“You are too kind, Hob. However, I believe I have overstayed my welcome.”

By a few years.

Hob dropped his gaze. His heart ached and not just for you. For himself. He selfishly wanted you to stay. Here was a potential friend who toed the impossible like himself. He was lonely, dreadfully lonely.

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” He asked under his breath.

He wearily glanced back up. Your face said it all: stunned. Your mouth agape as an intense, and bewildered confusion settled into your eyes. “You … you would let me stay?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because … because I do not think I could forgive myself if I simply let you walk away. I enjoyed your company tonight and I wish to know more about you.” He sighed, dropping his shoulders. He needed to be forthright with you. “And you are one of the few I know who have lived this long. And … and I am terribly lonely.”

Hob stared down at his hands, nervously ringing them. Of course, all of this was outrageous and utter insanity. Yet, that was always his life: defying all possibilities. He welcomed a stray cat into his home to fill his space and time, to return to this dingy apartment and for it to be a home with noise and life.

He had heartbreak, he had lovers. He loved humanity immensely, he loved all the people, but recently it hurt - like a knife to the heart - to allow someone in so close. Death was merciless. Then to his surprise, his simple cat was the answer to it all. A cat now human - a dream - who captured his interest within a single night.

Hob quickly added, “But, please, don’t stay for my sake. I understand if you want to leave, I only hope we can meet again someday down the road.”

A hand rested on top of his, stopping his fiddling. He jerked his head up, seeing you and such a wondrous kind smile. “If you want, I would happily stay. We can be lonely together.”

From then on, you lived with Hob.

He taught you more and more about humanity. And in turn, you taught him the hidden secrets of the world. You created a new life with him. You got a job, made new friends, tried new things, and truly found yourself away from the Dreaming. Yet, your heart still yearned for Morpheus. At night, within your own bedroom, you dreamt of Morpheus. You dreamt of him appearing out of the shadows and whisk you away back to the palace.

It would never happen.

And.

And you didn’t wish to leave Hob.

Decades spent together, moving around, seeing the world, you adored Hob - loved him. But, how did you define this love? Was it platonic? Or familial? Or was it romantic? In these later years, after all the time spent together, you knew deep within your heart it was romantic. Struck with the realization, you were immensely guilty as if you were replacing Morpheus.

But, you weren’t.

Hob and Morpheus were so different.

Hob was daylight. Morpheus was starlight. Hob was handmade from the earth, stitched together with worn golds and never ending fires. Morpheus was forged from the universe, imbued with expansive black holes and new galaxies.

Night and day.

Love bloomed between you and Hob, a love you thought was only for Morpheus.

You were wrong.

While falling in love with Morpheus was unknowing, falling for Hob was like standing on a cliff trying desperately not to jump as the earth crumbled beneath your feet. It was inevitable. It was obvious. All you had to do was jump. Hob has welcomed you into his home and maybe he will welcome you into his arms.

He did.

His arms wrapped around you making you feel safe and loved. It was a love that uplifted you. A love built on mutual understanding. A love that withstood the whirlwind of the always changing world. A love that filled a gaping hole, and a love that also dragged you down into an unknown depth of unwanted self-loathing.

One night, you laid your head on Hob’s chest. Your fingers mindlessly drew lazy circles and odd shapes. He was always so warm. It cradled you, comforted you. You turned, pressing your lips over his heart.

Hob smiled to himself. He threw an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer.

Perfect. Peaceful.

You smiled, closing your eyes. However, happiness was a fickle thing. A heart clenching sorrow washed over you like a cold splash of water. Before you knew it, tears streamed down your face, dripping onto Hob’s chest.

“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?” Hob immediately sat up and cupped your face. His eyes darted over your features trying to decipher why you were crying.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, latching onto his wrists in hopes of grounding yourself in the present, in his love.

“No, please, don’t apologize.” His thumbs brushed away the tears. “Please, talk to me.”

Your throat clenched, warning you of the swelling of emotions. It was the same reasoning since you and Hob started dating. A reason you buried, unwilling to acknowledge. You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I … I just miss him.”

Hob smiled softly. Ah. “I understand.”

“I love you, Hob. I do, I truly do.”

“But, the pain and guilt of moving on is too great,” he finished for you.

Your bottom lip trembled, and vigorously nodded.

Hob wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close again. His hand soothingly rubbed your back as you buried your face into his chest. “The first can always be the hardest to move past.” He sighed and kissed the top of your head. “Did I ever tell you of my first wife?”

You shook your head.

“My Eleanor, my sweet dear Eleanor, was so kind and giving. I always felt that I didn’t deserve her. But, she chose me in the end and loved me despite all my faults. Soon, she gave birth to our son Robyn and -“

His voice cracked. He tightened his grip on you and sniffled faintly. Even after all these years, it was still fresh.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to,” you mumbled, looking up at him.

“No, no,” he shook his head and met your gaze, “I want to.” He paused, steadying himself. “She died years later. Childbirth. I lost her and our new baby. Then our boy Robyn - who took after me far too much, was reckless and wore his heart on his sleeve - died at the young age of 20 in a tavern brawl.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Thank you.” He bent his head, kissing your forehead. “Your first significant love is always the hardest to forget.”

“Does it get easier?”

“A little.”

You smiled, loving and mournful. You leaned in, pecking his lips. “I love you, Hob. Please, do not mistake these years for regret or displeasure.”

“I will never. People like us are prone to sadness for the past and old lives. It’s our nature.” He kissed you again. “And I love you too. Always.”

Life was good.

Better than it had been in the year prior.

Your heartache for Morpheus lingered, and sometimes resurged under the veil of those dark nights, under his watchful eyes. But, you could flip over to Hob and hold him. Even as he slept, he would unconsciously turn to you, ensuring you were still safe and loved.

You learned one important thing during your time in the Waking: love was nurtured, love grew, and love never left; its roots buried deep within the heart. If you pulled the roots, holes stayed. Holes that may be filled, or may be permanent craters. Love was pain, love was gentle, love was heartbreakingly beautiful.

You missed the Dreaming. You thought back to Lucienne, Merv, Cain and Abel, Fiddler’s Green, and to the other dreams and nightmares. You thought of Morpheus, hoping he was happy wherever he was. You also sent a little thought out into the universe wishing him the best and for one day your paths to cross again.

One day.

One day you wanted to see him again, if the fates allowed it. The fates would, of course unbeknownst to you, because they loved weaving in such chaos.

As you created a new life, Morpheus rotted away in that damned glass sphere. Thoughts of the Dreaming, and especially of you, kept him sane in those trying times. When escape became a possibility instead of a fantasy, he snatched it up. He fled, racing back, to the Dreaming - to you.

Imagine his surprise to find out you had left.

“Gone?”

Lucienne grimly nodded. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

Morpheus slumped over on the crumbled staircase, looking away to the chunks of stone and shards of glass. You had left. His love was gone. He swallowed, feeling his throat constrict. “And where has she gone?”

“The Waking, sir.”

Morpheus nodded.

Lucienne frowned at seeing her lord’s weakened state and also the evident heartbreak on his face. “She will be pleased to hear you have returned, I’m sure of it.”

“And how will I find her, Lucienne? The Waking is vast, and in my current state I fear I may never find her.”

“Then that is where we start, sire. You regather your strength and you go find her. Perhaps even getting a new raven could aid you as well.”

Morpheus’s jaw clenched. You will be devastated to know Jessamy has passed. He sighed, “We will start with the Dreaming. You are correct, I need to find my things. And once the Dreaming has been restored, I will do everything I can to find her.”

“Of course.”

Where have you gone? Where will he find you? And will you want to come back?

Days - weeks - of searching, and having recovered his sand, helm, and ruby, Morpheus had finally rebuilt the Dreaming. The doors now reopened. There were still cracks in the foundation, but with time and care everything will be healed. Now, he could turn his full attention onto you.

He didn’t wish to spend another night alone.

In an extravagant room with vaulted ceilings with spiraling galaxies - no, it was windows to the other realms - Morpheus stood hunched over, leaning on a large dark hand carved wooden table. A table that could accommodate a dozen, but settled for the one lord. Peering in the galaxies above, one showed Hell with its cold barren lands, one showed the deep lush reds of his dear siblings’s domain, and another one he could hear the chattering voices of a billion people. The walls were covered in old maps - maps of the shifting realms, more importantly a map of the Waking. Currently, a large map was sprawled out across the entirety of the table.

With a single finger, Morphues touched an area of the map. The map shifted, zooming into an area in South America. Mountains and valleys, structures and cities, rose out of the paper map. Voices of the dreamers buzzed - like an irritable swarm of gnats.

How to find a dream amongst so many dreamers? He barely found the Corinthian during his initial search, and now he had also disappeared into the wind. He sighed, pushing away from the map.

“No luck?”

Morpheus peered over. Matthew, his newest raven, perched himself on the edge of the table. His eyes glanced at the map, entranced as the map returned to a flat even surface. Morpheus shook his head, “No. And you?”

Matthew mumbled, “Sorry, boss, I haven’t.”

Morphues dropped his head. It was hopeless.

Matthew hopped closer. “I’m sure you will find her.”

“I do not doubt that we won’t, however, how long will it be?” Morpheus glanced up with such profound sadness. “Will it be days? Or will it be years? Time stretches on, and I can barely withstand another second.”

Matthew sank. “I’m sorry.”

“You do not have to apologize. We have an impossible task ahead.”

“Are you sure there isn’t anyone who could help? Any friends in the Waking?”

Morpheus opened his mouth with a resounding ‘no’, but it became lodged in his throat. There was one person. A person who he left on bitter terms, a person he hadn’t seen in a century and unfortunately missed their last scheduled meeting.

If he still wishes to see me, Morpheus thought. Maybe he could help.

“Maybe there is,” Morpheus said, solemnly.

Matthew perked up. “Really? Well, let’s go -“

“I will go alone. We … we did not leave on the best of terms at our last encounter.” Morpheus stated with no room for arguments. “You can stay here, rest for now. I will call you if I need you.”

Matthew nodded, both slightly disappointed in not seeing this new elusive friend, but also relieved to rest his wings. “Sure thing, boss.”

Matthew flew off to find a place to rest.

Morpheus, on the other hand, took a shaky inhale. Hopefully, Hob could provide aid or just simply be pleased to see him again. Exhaling, Morpheus moved. A curtain of sand waved in front of Morpheus, and he walked ahead passing through it. In an instance, he traversed to the Waking.

He appeared in the one spot he knew: the inn. It changed names, remodeled, and repainted over the centuries, but it was always their inn. However, when he appeared, it was in ruins. Construction site surrounded the demolished, rotted building, and a fence protected the public from approaching any further.

His shoulders sagged.

Gone.

A result of the passage of time.

His eyes fell to the chain link fence, to all the signs advertising the company of the demolition along with other pinned ads of random businesses. Spray painted names and symbols coated the rusted signs. Morpheus cocked his head. Arrows. Multiple arrows, in fact, pointed in a new direction with a tag: new inn, this way.

New inn?

Following the arrows around the building, a completely new building rose behind the destruction. It was picturesque and welcoming. Flowers in their pots, surrounding the inn, bloomed vibrantly in an array of colors. Empty tables and chairs on the patio begged passersby to come and rest their feet. Music and random chatter swelled together in a wondrous cacophony. Food and drinks wafted, drawing in any with an empty stomach. Approaching the new inn, Morpheus froze. A familiar presence, a hint of his power which blossomed into its own, hummed in the air. No, it hummed inside of his chest. It tugged on him, beckoning him forward.

It couldn’t be.

He steeled his heart, protecting himself of more potential heartbreak. With a notable tremor in his hand, he pushed open the door and walked in. Up ahead, in a shared table, his lovely missing dream and his dearest friend, Hob, sat side by side. A beautiful infectious smile crossed your face. Laughter, honey sweet laughter, bubbled up from your lips. While your eyes sparkled with such immense joy.

Oh, he truly fell in love with you all over again.

Hob chuckled, harmonizing with your laughter, as he recounted an insane encounter this morning.

Morpheus smiled to himself.

Hob.

His oldest, and truest, friend. Under the fluorescent lights, Hob glowed as if a king of old, of a myth long forgotten. A halo seemed to bask over him. His smile, dazzling and charming, was one he always remembered. It was a smile written about in epic poetries of a warrior coming home again to see their family.

Morpheus’s heart soared.

Suddenly, you froze, completely rigid. Your smile faltered, and your laughter died. A power, you had not felt in over a century, prickled on the back of your neck. You whipped your head. Your eyes widened. Leaping to your feet, you bumped the table and nearly toppled it over.

Hob, concerned, stood up, reaching his hands towards you if you become off balance. “Whoa, hey, are you -“

“Morpheus.” You whispered, tasting his name again.

Morpheus approached.

Hob’s eyes followed yours. Surprise, just as impactful and sudden as yours, surged through him. It was his dark nameless stranger.

Morpheus stood in front of the two of you. He looked to you with overflowing joy in being able to find you. “(Y/N).” He glanced to Hob, still holding the same joy in his eyes. “Hob.”

It quickly clicked for Hob. He turned, facing you. “Wait, is this -“

“Yes,” you swiftly cut him off, unable to tear your eyes from Morpheus.

Your love and his friend were the same person. And neither of you knew until this moment.

“Wow.” Hob mumbled in shock. “Small world.”

“I know you each have questions, one I will be happy to answer,” Morpheus calmly said.

“Right, uh, well we can go to our apartment,” Hob suggested since this conversation would clearly be better in private.

Our. Morpheus did not miss that specific word.

“That works for me,” Morpheus stated.

“Great,” Hob chirped with a smile back on his face.

“I will meet you there,” you quickly interjected. You darted around Morpheus and Hob, already heading for the door. “You may have a moment together and I can pick up the apartment and start boiling some water for tea.”

Before either could answer, you were out the door. The soft chimes sang, signifying you had left.

You rounded the building to the back. Hidden from any prying eyes, you changed: a housecat, a form you only occasionally, and rarely, took since your new life with Hob. You immediately ran home, running faster than physically possible for such a small creature. Although you appeared as an ordinary stray, your legs had the power and agility of a cheetah. You sprinted through the concrete jungle of London, weaving through the legs of people and the congested traffic. You even surpassed a few vehicles, becoming a streak of fur. The world blurred by becoming a mesh of colors and sounds. In seconds, you leapt up the fire escape to your apartment.

The window was always cracked.

It was old and rusted. A window you needed to repair, but neither of you found the time, or care, to fix it. It was a staple of your home. Squeezing through the crack, you landed back on two feet. Now alone, you freely let your thoughts overflow.

He was back.

Morpheus was back.

Your heart soared at the sight of his face. No longer was it a dream or figment of your imagination, no longer was he confined to your distant memories. Joy and an old love filled your veins. It was warm, gentle, and invigorating, like a sip of a fresh hot cup of tea. But, the kind warmth soon vanished, leaving an undeniable and painful chill in your bones: fear how he would react to you moving on, the guilt for doing so or having not to try to run after him, and the resurgence of heartbreak you battled with for decades before leaving for the Waking. Not to mention, you had abandoned the Dreaming, abandoned Lucienne, and abandoned your duties.

Morpheus was the epitome of your greatest joy and your deepest sorrow.

Needing to busy your mind and hands, you picked up the few dishes left from this morning. You tidied up the already spotless house. So, you began to boil water and arranged tea bags in cups.

The front door unlocked, with a somewhat sickening click, only moments after the kettle screamed.

Hob announced their presence and you mumbled your reply. You swiftly and efficiently prepared the teas, and placed it all on a tray along with any sugar or milk they wished to add. You walked out - feeling like a death march - with your gaze on the tray and the sloshing of teas. You wordlessly placed the tray on the coffee table, still adamantly avoiding each of their gazes. Despite the obvious heat and pressure that bored into your skull. You picked up a cup, clutching it close to your chest and sat down - away from both men. Morpheus and Hob shared the couch, with a spot in the middle if you wished to sit, however you plopped down on the plush recliner across from them.

The tension was palpable in the air. It weighed down, suffocating you. Your thoughts somehow spun faster and faster, more and more wildly out of control, with each tick of the clock. You wanted to run, you wanted to stay, you wanted answers, you wanted to be ignorant, you wanted -

“So,” Hob began. “I, uh …”

“I know this is difficult in the very least,” Morpheus interrupted. “And I apologize for any pain I have caused.”

His eyes flickered over to you. Your eyes stayed on your steaming cup of tea, despite his apparent gaze. It burned through you, it burned since you first saw him again.

Hob cleared his throat. “You don't have to apologize.”

Morpheus sighed, saddened you were avoiding him. “But, I do believe I owe an explanation for the both of you.”

Morpheus explained his attempt in capturing the Corinthian which ultimately failed due to an amateur magician. The magician who hoped to control Death, but settled for Dream instead. He quickly fell into greed with the power, and wealth he stole from Morpheus. Morpheus spoke of Jessamy and her death, he told of the magician dying but when given the initial opportunity the son did not release Morpheus either. Years passed and due to luck and negligence, he was finally able to escape.

“You … you were trapped?” You spoke up, and now directly looked at him. His eyes swallowed you up. You fell into unseen galaxies, into bottomless oceans. Mysterious and awe-inspiring. They sparkled with thousands of stars, with countless lives, and most of all, love.

A profound love.

You were consumed by him.

Like always.

Morpheus nodded, silently answering your question.

Your throat clenched. “All this time?”

“I was.”

Guilt.

Intense, heavy guilt swelled since of you, choking you. You dropped your head. Tears prickled in your eyes. You squeezed them tightly, preventing them from spilling out. But, you failed. You knew you would. Tears dropped, sending ripples throughout your tea.

Trapped. Abducted. Tortured.

Your heart bled. It was ripped apart by two words. I was. How could you? Why didn’t you try? Why didn't you do everything to look for him? Why did you believe he truly left you?

“I -“ your voice cracked - “I am so sorry, Morpheus.”

Morpheus instantly moved, crouching down beside you. He carefully removed the cup from your hands, discarding it onto the table. He clasped your hands in his, holding them close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, looking at him. “I didn’t try to look for you. I left -“

“Shhh,” he reached up, wiping away the tears. “There is no need for tears and apologies.’`

“You were hurting, Morpheus. And it didn’t cross my mind to look for you. I - I thought you simply left. Fuck. I even hoped you left to be free from all of this.”

How idiotic could I be? So naive?

Morpheus pulled you into a hug. His skin rippled with electricity, it had been too long since he held you. “It’s okay, my dream. I’m not angry or upset. I was only saddened that I did not see your face upon my return to the Dreaming. But, I found you again after all these years and I understand why you left. Please, I don’t wish to see you cry over me.”

You squeezed him. He truly was back, back in your arms. You buried your face into his shoulder. Inhaling, he smelled of the library filled with the maze of old books and burning candles, of Fiddler’s Green expansive forest and morning dew, of the wood smoke from the fireplace always crackling in your shared room.

He smelled of home.

You lifted your head, glancing behind Morpheus. Hob smiled softly at you. Sorrow etched into his tight smile - a smile of someone watching and letting their love go. And in an instance, your heart shattered all over again. Yes, Morpheus and the Dreaming was your original home. But, Hob and the Waking had become your new home. Homes you each cherished equally.

You pulled away, cupping Morpheus’s face. His eyes shone with love, but he clocked the hesitation in your eyes. His smile dropped, a dread washed over him. You brushed back a curl of his midnight hair, and kissed his forehead. “Morpheus, I love you. I always will.”

Hob’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. It is better this way, he thought.

“But, I also love Hob. I love him as much as I love,” you finished.

Hob’s eyes widened, part of him had accepted you were no longer his. If Eleanor walked through the door, he didn't know what he would do. Cry? Scoop her into his arms? Hold her tightly? Possibly, and more. The heart was tricky. It craved and cried out. And everyone was bound by it, led by it, controlled by it. He just didn’t know, or believed, you still had room for him.

You stood up, taking Morpheus’s hand and led him over to Hob. You extended your hand down towards Hob. His eyes flickered to Morpheus. Morpheus only calmly stared, not revealing any emotions. Hob glanced back to you then to your hand, and slowly accepted it.

You pulled him up to his feet, clutching each of their hands. “I love you both, and I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Morpheus studied the two of you together. It was obvious in Hob’s gaze, he loved you. He loved you easily, like breathing. He loved you as a plant loves sunlight. He loved and loved and loved. And in your eyes, Morpheus saw that love reflected back. A love he saw when you looked at him. A love whispered under bed sheets, a love built together.

He wasn’t upset. No, in fact, he was comforted - relieved. His love did not suffer. You thrived in this new life, you created something for yourself. And to know, you found it with Hob - his dearest and frankly only friend - it warmed his heart.

You cleared your throat, “I have a suggestion. It may be unorthodox, but neither are all of us.” You squeezed their hands tightly, unable to let either of them go. “If you are both willing, I would like to continue a life together - all three of us.”

Morpheus’s and Hob’s eyes connected, and shared a quiet conversation. They loved you dearly, more than they could show: gifts, poetry, words, touches, all of it wasn’t enough. Their love was endless. But, could they make room for another? Could they alter their relationship, and possibly risk it?

Hob moved first. He would not leave any words unspoken this time. He would not hold back. He reached down, taking Morpheus’s free hand. It fit nicely in his, as if meant to be. “I am willing to try if you are.”

Morpheus wordlessly stared down at his hand interlocked with Hob’s. A swirl of forgotten emotions rippled throughout his chest. A friend he adored for centuries. A friend who captured his attention. A friend that once sparked an attraction, an attraction he buried within himself.

Morpheus looked at you. You held his gaze with adoration and a flicker of fear as you prepared for a ‘no’. He had past relationships. He dealt with intermoussble heartbreak. Was it possible for him? Could he - he squeezed your hand and Hob’s, silencing any and all doubt. “I wish to try.”

He would not second guess himself. He had enough ‘what ifs’ to last until the end of time. His time away revealed many things, and he would try to lead with his heart and desires more. He deserved to find and keep his happiness.

“You do?” You asked, still unsure. “You don’t have to -“

“My sweet dream, I am not doing this only for your sake because you asked.” He cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. He was holding a piece of his world again. “I regret many things. And I cannot change the past. One of them is that I wish we could have started our relationship sooner. I do not want to have any more regrets.” He turned his attention to Hob. Morpheus dropped his hands from you, and took up both of Hob’s hands. Now, he was holding a new piece of his world - one that fit easily into his life. “Hob, I have wronged you once before. I know that. But, if you will have me, I wish to try this. All of us together. Maybe it will be wonderful, maybe it will destroy us, but whatever will happen I will know instead of being haunted with what ifs.”

“Morpheus.” Hob said his name for the first time. He savored how it sounded on his lips, and tasted on his tongue. Morpheus. Oh, he wanted to sing it. He gently squeezed Morpheus’s hands. “Life is too short for regrets. I want to try this.”

Morpheus smiled softly.

“Come here.” You tugged on them, and kissed each of their cheeks. You smiled, lovingly at them. They matched your smile as their gaze softened. In a second, your home grew. His became ours, and theirs became yours. Your lives now forever tangled, like a cat’s cradle.

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #robert gadling #hob x reader #hob gadling x reader #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader x Hob #dream x reader x hob #the sandman imagine

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amostdelectablescribbler · 1 year ago

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i’m making a new thing and want help

i’m doing a whodunnit in which we know pretty much whodunnit and it’s about how they did it and how they were caught. We are now at the “how they did it” part. I am not that clever, so i am asking for help. For context, this story is inspired by the following image that i nicked from @ultrainfinitepit (you don’t mind me writing something with these guys as a base for inspiration, do you? They’re just so gorgeous and full of character i just gotta!)

We got, by chapter order:

-What The Cat Dragged In: i’ve decided he’s gonna be the counterpart to the protagonist, alongside a woman who looks like Jane Romero from Dead By Daylight operating the radio, and they go and bust into a big room in a mob base full of half-finished plans and clever things and riddles and foreshadowing, but i need something to foreshadow, which brings us to:

-High Stakes: a corrupt casino owner, who is this cool smooth-talking vampire lady, who uses her looks and her charm to keep your attention while she changes the rules and stacks the deck. What would the tells of someone lying be? How would you bait someone?

-Dead Man Walking: a voodoo skeleton drug lord who cheated death and is buying lives and enslaving people in exchange for drugs. I can do this myself as there’s always cameras, witnesses on the street reporting it, people going missing in the same few locations, etc.

-Swimming With The Fishes: a selkie jazz singer/theatre actress/opera singer/whatever fits better who wears her pelt as a scarf, and drowns people who disturb her performances or for suggesting someone is better, or someone being better, they get drowned. She wants to stay desperately relevant and perpetually famous.

-If Looks Could Kill: drop-dead-gorgeous gorgon (a la medusa), possibly a runway model or fashion designer, who kills by turning people to stone and disguising their bodies as mannequins in her shop. She seduces them into going to a backroom with her and turns them to stone in a nice pose, but what would that look like?

-All Bark, All Bite: a werewolf cop who is higher in the chain of command than Clyde (protagonist. Will do a big wip intro later) and abuses it regularly in the previous chapters. Is mean and corrupted by the monetary gain of protecting the previous charismaniacs from legal trouble at the “behest” of the guy below. What would corrupt cops do to pull the wool over peoples eyes? What would be the tells that you’re being played for a fool and silenced?

-Angel-Face: a mob boss who made a deal with a little-known angel called Lucifer for immortality in exchange for his own soul, or the souls of others. He’s been the kingpin holding all the other operations together, and he’s been doing it to get the bodies from the others and sacrificing them in exchange for immortality. It becomes a race to piece together the puzzle before one of the supporting cast gets sacrificed, culminating in Angel-Face failing to meet the sacrifice deadline and getting dragged down to hell by the Devil. This one I can do myself, as i can use regular wet footprints on the floor, security cameras, and following cars in a cool chase scene, the very climactic works.

My plea to my mutuals, and in general those cleverer than myself, can you guys come up with some genius schemes for these brilliantly illustrated Magnificent Bastards?

#writeblr #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writer problems #whodunnit #noir-fantasy #writing #schemes #psychology

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raincode-archives · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4 Loading Screen Trivia

Note: Currently, I do not know which of these trivia may be general game trivia or Chapter 4 exclusives (if there is any). And there may be trivia I'm currently missing that I will add later on, if I find any more.

World Detective Organization (WDO) An extra-legal, extra-privileged organization devoted to eradicating the world's unsolved mysteries.

Detective Deed An identification card. These are granted by the World Detective Organization.

Master Detective Among the detectives belonging to the World Detective Organization, this is a detective with a specialized power called Forensic Forte that aids in their investigative activities.

Forensic Forte Those exhibiting innate talent for special powers like clairvoyance or mind-reading are trained by the WDO to develop a supernatural investigative ability called Forensic Forte or simply, Forte.

Amaterasu Corporation Many products are in development, some of which cannot be made public.

Amaterasu Peacekeepers A department of Amaterasu Corporation. They serve as a sort of police force within Kanai Ward.

Kamasaki District Crime generally isn't bad here, unless you venture deeper inside, that is.

Riverbank Due to polluted waters, fish are rarely caught.

Kanai Station The only train station in Kanai Ward. It's a magnificent building, but seldom has customers because of the city's isolation.

Kanai Ward Living Condition Perhaps because of the daily rainfall, some people in Kanai Ward don't mind getting wet.

TV Programs Nearly all the TV programs broadcasted in Kanai Ward are sponsored by Amaterasu Corporation.

Popular Sports Parkour is popular among the young men of Kamasaki District. New problems have arisen however, what will all the trespassing and running across the top of food stalls.

Means of Communication Most communications to people outside of Kanai Ward are tapped and monitored by Amaterasu. The phone at the Nocturnal Detective Agency uses a different type of line to prevent eavesdropping.

Pets Because of Kanai Ward's unending rain, indoor pets are popular. At the same time, there is increasing concern of many dogs and cats become feral after being abandoned by irresponsible owners.

Kanai Ward's Electrical Power Because of the perpetual rain, electrical power is derived predominantly from rainwater.

Flavor of Halara's Candy Depends on the mood. The worse the mood, the sweeter the taste; the better the mood, the lighter the taste.

Fubuki's Accessories Fubuki's necklace has a clock motif. The choker is decorated with video playback control symbols.

Vivia's Book Catalog Novels, columns, essays, all sorts of things. There's no particular preference for genre; he reads just to pass time.

Vivia's Garments There are just bandage-like wrappings beneath his coat, so it wouldn't be accurate to call it clothing.

Amaterasu Corporation The megacorporation controlling Kanai Ward. It deals in a wide variety of goods such as industrial products, electronic appliances, as well as pharmaceuticals.

Kanai Ward Currently, Kanai ward is isolated from the rest of the world. Few people enter and leave and very little information goes beyond its walls.

Kanai Tower Lease agreements are available, but the monthly rent costs as much as a luxury car.

Ama-Pal Different versions of Ama-Pal exist, but among the scarce limited edition releases, there is evidently a bear variant with differently colored left and right sides.

Ama-Pay An electronic payment system courtesy of Amaterasu Corporation. It can be used at almost any shop in Kanai Ward, but rumor has it the company collects personal data from each transaction.

Popular Appliances Indoor dryers are very popular in Kanai Ward. Amaterasu Corporation's new "Kagutsuchi" model is quite excellent, capable of drying any type of laundry in just two hours.

Amaterasu's Latest Products A drone car that will autonomously deliver you from departure...to tomorrow. "Amenotorifune." Coming soon from Amaterasu Corporation.

Amaterasu's Latest Products Fall asleep in an instant.... And slumber for eight hours without waking up...no matter what... "Snoozewell," coming soon from Amaterasu Corporation.

Amaterasu Lab Research facilities located in the underground section of the Amaterasu Corporation. Access to the lab is highly restricted, even among Amaterasu personnel.

Amaterasu Security Entry to the premises requires employee IDs, as well as biometric authentication via retinal scans, making it practically impossible for outsiders to infiltrate Amaterasu Corporation.

Blank Week Mystery A phrase considered taboo in Kanai Ward. The meaning of the phrase is unclear

Makoto's Masks The mask is different ever morning, depending on his mood. Sometimes it takes him more than 30 minutes to choose, to the chagrin of the people around him.

About Dr. Huesca He walks around barefoot in the lab. This isn't for anything health-related, he simply feel the time spent putting on shoes and socks is better used on research.

Robot Researcher Akira is his name. He's poured his whole being into Ama-Pal, his life dedicated to its development. His catchphrase: "When my time comes, I want it to be by Ama-Pal's hand."

Fink the Slaughter Artist A hitman predominantly active in Kanai Ward. It's rumored that he'll kill any target, regardless of difficulty, as long as the client can afford it.

Yomi's Cane Yomi's cane transforms into a whip and can be used to strangle people he isn't fond of.

Shinigami's Secret Depending on Shinigami's emotional state, not only can horns and a tail sprout out, but her entire body can take on a fiery form.

Amazing Physique Number One of the WDO may look wizened, but beneath his robe is a muscle-bound body, compared to that of a youth's. It's littered in scars following encounters with a variety of criminals.

Invention Detective A Master Detective whose Forte allows for on-the-spot assembly of inventions useful for an investigation. This detective was not summoned to Kanai Ward.

#mdarc #master detective archives rain code #rain code #raincode #rain code archives #makoto kagutsuchi #dr huesca #yomi hellsmile #shinigami #number one

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jselorekeeper · 1 year ago

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Jacksepticeye's Egos Explained (2/2)

Part one link is here!

We will now go over each of the characters and their stories!

Jackieboy Man is a young male who happened to stumble upon a scenario that gave him impressive physical ability! As an individual who is obsessed with superheroes from comics and video games he decides to put his powers to use! As a delivery man, he was taking care of another order before being sidetracked by what Jackie assumed was a robot invasion! Fighting off the robots to realize he only saved a dummy revealed that Jackie has destroyed a controlled demo by "CyberMass" which ultimately got him in a lot of trouble!

Marvin the Magnificent is typically described as an iconoclastic person who is both sarcastic and short-tempered! He is a bookstore owner and a cat dad of a mysteriously magic cat named Higgins! Part of the Magic Circle he is curious and suspicious of IRIS, it was seen that Marvin knows about them and has drawings of their logos.

Henrik Von Scheeplestein is a German doctor who can only be described as eccentric and smart! Henrik has been shown dabbling in the research of time travel, in his first appearance it was revealed that Henrik used to be married before he was cheated on by his wife! Seemingly divorced he seems married to the job! We aren't sure what type of doctor Henrik truly is but as the canon videos change it's clear he has shifted from "your typical surgical doctor" to something much more advanced.

Anti, or ALTR 114209 according to IRIS, is an entity on which we barely have any information! His personality is best described as mysterious and short-tempered, on multiple occasions, he is shown interacting with the other egos! He particularly goes after the ego known as Chase Brody. Anti has been shown to have powers of manipulation, world bending, time travel, puppetry of humans, and the ability to float which gives insight that this ALTR is a lot stronger than any of us has expected!

Chase Brody is the main protagonist within the IRIS story, he is an ex-husband/ex-father of a family that is no longer with us. Chase has an addiction to Alcohol which is portrayed in almost every appearance as he is usually seen drinking. When taken and locked up by IRIS themselves, for 7 days we are hinted of Chase's past and its revealed and by the end, Chase admits that his family is dead and he "wasn't the one to kill them" whether implying he did kill the family just not by his own choice or Anti did it himself and Chase was blamed since Anti cannot be seen by most.

Jameson Jackson is a man out of time itself! Appearing to be from the time of black and white television it is revealed that Jameson is a mute ego, meaning that he cannot speak. Jameson has a love of puppet shows and performing his own stories that he creates, but a while into the story we see Anti come into play managing to take over and control Jameson like a puppet very easy like. When Jameson first appeared within the community his video was a simple carving pumpkins video but Anti decided he was perfect to show off what he could truly do by taking control of Jameson's body and talking about how he is still here and watching everything.

As far as the story within the 8 years that we have started receiving information about these characters, please note that anything before CHASE is most likely no longer canon, some of it is but Jack has not revealed what is canon.

Starting with the very first appearances of egos we met Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent who did not have any sort of stories in the beginning, it wasn't until very recently that they received lore which I explained in their descriptions above.

We meet Henrik who is performing surgery on a patient as he speaks to us and his "assistant" about parts of his life hinting that he was a married man until his wife was caught cheating on him with her Tennis Instructor! After that, it seems that he was only dedicated to his job.

Soon we are deep into Halloween where C!Jack (who no longer exists) was carving pumpkins but kept having strange things happen around him such as unexplained noises and things around him glitching. Anti appeared fully towards the video end and took the knife Jack was using to slice his throat causing Jack to collapse forward. It was hinted that soon after Jack was rushed to the hospital and stitched up by Henrik but he did not end up waking up, resulting in him being in a coma. (IT WAS A FAKE KNIFE)

Next, we meet Chase who was recording videos as a distraction from his life, we get snippets into Chase's life revealing that he is an ex-husband and father to a lady named Stacy who took their child after the divorce. Distraught by his scenario in the video, Chase took the gun he had with him and shot himself (IT WAS A NERF GUN) but was rushed off to the hospital by his friend who was recording the trickshots.

Later it was revealed that Henrik is the one who saved Chase's life and is one of Chase's friends!

Soon after C!Jack's body started to show signs of rapid decline as organs were starting to shut down left and right which left Henrik in a fight to save him. During the struggle, it is revealed that Henrik is fully aware of who Anti is and begs the community to save him and Jack knowing that Anti will end up doing something to both of them. Towards the end of the video and after a series of rapid attempts Anti finally managed to kill C!Jack right after the video suddenly ends with Henrik screaming over Jack's death.

Next, we meet Jameson Jackson who didn't have a chance against Anti as he became one of his puppets right in his first appearance! Jameson fell easily under Anti's control without the ability to fight. Not much was known about Jameson or where he came from he just randomly appeared one day!

After months of nothing we are greeted with Henrik who came back from his so-called "vacation" and claimed his spot back as the doctor with seemingly a newfound determination to do something that none of us knew what it was at the time.

While Henrik returned Chase on the other hand found himself face to face with Anti in his own home, he stood at one end hesitating before speaking directly to Anti asking where is his family and what Anti wanted from him, seemingly hinting that this wasn't the first time they have interacted together. In a split second of time Anti attacked Chase before taking over his body, he blacked out unaware of what happened afterwards.

Another few months passed by before we watched as Chase walked up to his home and realized he had been evicted. Now homeless Chase went back into his messy car sitting there before looking for something in his glove department, while not paying attention we can see Anti sitting in the back seat staring not at Chase but directly at us. Chase drove off into the woods and decided to drink away his problems before he was suddenly teleported onto a parking garage, panicked and confused Chase was looking around trying to figure out where he was and how.

Not long after we can see Henrik working on what seems to be an equation, later on, a community member finds that the equation is for time travel! While working hard on the problem Henrik notices his computer begins to glitch out, on his monitor appears this trance-like portal. He was staring into the portal almost in awe that his information had possibly worked!

While Henrik was achieving scientific greatness Jameson on the other hand was not having nearly as much fun, doing a puppet show Jameson sat in his little show box telling a story of a murder mystery. During the story, Jameson notices that strings have randomly appeared on his wrist. With a smile, he just brushed it off trying to not panic about it. Until the end of the story Jameson glitches out, the strings are being held by something or someone above him controlling him like a puppet. During the glitches, you can see Jameson sign for us to help him as he tries to fight back against the strings and ultimately fails at the end.

Then for the first time in years, Marvin made an appearance, within the video there was not a word spoken as Marvin seemed to be looking over a series of notes and information he had within this journal, to his side laid this glass ball that has a similar portal design to Henrik’s screen! Marvin hesitated for a second before touching the ball. Suddenly he was flooded with information and scenes of what Anti has done to the other egos, Marvin lets go snapping back to reality almost in shock.

Then months later and back into Chase's story we are introduced to Dr. Hanson as Chase is now sitting locked up within IRIS' building. He was in there for a total of seven days under constant monitoring by multiple cameras.

Over the seven days, it can be told that Chase's mental health was starting to decline rapidly as Anti was messing with him causing him to see and hear things. Then one day instead of Anti messing with him Chase heard another voice, someone who goes by Echo reaching out to Chase to explain he was special but they never said anything beyond that.

Dr. Hanson kept pushing Chase over the edge constantly asking if he was aware of ALTR 114209 which Chase kept declining but it was later revealed that Dr. Hanson was talking about Anti. Chase admits that he has seen him multiple times as Anti won't leave him alone and has shown him disturbing things including what has happened to his family. Ultimately this hinted that Chase's family was dead and Chase got blamed for their deaths.

A bit later Chase was suddenly ushered out of the room by Dr. Hanson and the guards, in the hallway they stopped before a door that had a red glow behind it. Chase started to freak out begging and stating they could not go any further. Being dragged off Chase was screaming and pleading for them to let him go.

Leading to moments later when everyone in the hallway besides Dr. Hanson and Chase was dead, Dr. Hanson was nowhere to be found. Anti appeared down the hall and quietly walked down the hall towards Chase. Chase scrambled back against the wall breathing heavily as he stared up at Anti in fear.

#jacksepticeye #iris #altrverse #JSE Explained

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gayuu-the-necromancer · 2 years ago

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Chapter 3 Invitation To The Dark Night

WARNING: The following story contains gore, murder, and so much blood.

(Night deliveries will be fine, once I get used to it....next one is the last one)

It was a magnificent mansion among the townhouses that lined the street.

(Hmm...I don't see a mailbox here)

(It's also nighttime, so I can't yell....let's see)

When I gently touched the gate, I heard a slight creak...and the gate opened inward.

(It's unlocked?....Now that's careless)

Kate: "Excuse me, I'm from the post office......is anyone home?"

I went through the gate and peeked into the dimly lit entrance hall where the lights were out.

(Is someone playing the piano....?)

Out of nowhere, I hear a piece of melodious music.

The light and joyful tone echoing in the dark night without the sound of wind, gives the impression of something strange.

(....I'm sure it must be the owner playing the piano. If I just leave his letter here, unattended, then he might lose it)

(And if I don't deliver it properly, then....)

Fearfully, I took a step forward.

The sound of my own footsteps walking down the polished hall mingled with the melody of the piano.

(Somehow, I don't feel comfortable)

I should be fulfilling my duties, but somehow I feel like I'm making a horrible mistake.

(Let's hurry up and get this over with)

(Looks like the music....is coming from the hall ahead)

I knock on the door, but the music doesn't stop...and then I slowly started getting impatient.

I put my hand on the doorknob, as if I was rushed by anxiety.

Kate: "Um..excuse me..."

Kate: "Mm."

(.....Hm?)

A bright red fountain spouted out in front of me.

The thing that sent pulsating, bright red droplets of blood rolled noisily on the floor.

(W-What the....?)

My eyes met at the 'thing' that rolled to my feet.

The 'thing' had a look of anguish on its face and a deadly knife was stuck to his neck.

Kate: "!?"

A gulp escaped my throat. A tepid liquid dripped down my cheek and a feeling of discomfort ran down my spine.

(Why)

???: "Well well, I didn't realize we would be having an audience."

I hear a voice following me and my throat, still drawn tight, quivers.

When I look back----

Eight shadows, darker and blacker than darkness,

They all gazed at me quietly, illuminated by the faint white moonlight.

As to figuring out what I am or...

If I'm plotting something.

One of them slowly rises from the piano.

Man with red eyes: "What a surprise. It's the little robin I met today."

Kate: "Ah.....you.....you are...?"

It was the same man with red eyes, whom I met by chance in London today.

I stare back at them seriously, unable to comprehend anything more than that.

Man that looks like a cat: "Does she know you, Will? Does she know about us too?"

Man with red eyes: "I just happened to have a little chat with her on the street this afternoon, Liam. She doesn't know anything about the Crown."

(Crown....?)

Man that looks like a cat: "I see. Now that's a problem. What should we do now....?"

The man looks at me and smiles softly in a flamboyant tone that is out of proportion to the perfect crime scene.

(He looks happy....in spite of this situation)

His friendly pink eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Aloof man: "Sorry if that freaked you out, but these are just props for a stage play."

A man who appears to be a playboy points at the corpse with his chin and throws a streaming look at it.

Kate: "Liar...."

I couldn't help but recall the raw, tepid feeling on my cheek.

Aloof man: "....It would have been good for you if you had pretended to believe me."

Aloof Man: "What do we do now, Will?"

Man with red eyes: "Of course, the right thing to do now is to take her to the Palace of the Death."

Best man: "Tch...I told you to lock the door, didn't I?"

Man with a gun: "Haha, I didn't think you'd go so far as to trespass. You're a pretty bad girl, aren't you, young lady?"

Tall young man: "Why don't you come over here? You can't run away now anyway."

The moment I heard those words, I felt fear run through my body.

(W-What should I do....? How can I escape from this....!)

I scolded my trembling legs and was about to back away when-----

Blood-red eyes held me captive.

Man with red eyes: "Come here, poor little robin."

(Eh?!)

The moment he whispered sweetly to me, my feet started to move toward him on their own.

(No way...! Why can't I stop!? Stop!!)

Kate: "Stop....!"

My feet which were moving against my will, stop dead in front of him.

Man with red eyes: "Pardon me for my rudeness."

He gently pulled my hips in as if we were dancing the waltz.

(Is he going to kill me)

The scent of fragrant roses tickles my nose....and a soft touch caresses my cheek at the same time I close my eyes.

(Eh....?)

Man with red eyes: "That should do it."

(Ah....)

He smiled gently and released me from his arms.

(Perhaps he wiped the blood off my cheek...just now)

He actually wiped it.

I relaxed and collapsed on spot.

Man with red eyes: "Sorry it took me so long to introduce myself. My name is William. William Rex."

Against the moonlight, he bowed reverently and extended his hand to me.

(William Rex....)

The fingertips stained in blood opened slowly and invitingly.

Man with red eyes: "I invite you to dinner tonight. Young lady, what is your name?"

Chapter 4 - The Grim Reaper Waits At The Palace Of Death

#ikemen series #ikemen villain #ikemen villains #otome #cybird #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen mc

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butterfirefly · 1 year ago

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@cat-tyy I have. no idea what I just wrote. Enjoy.

“AAAAH!”

“Zion. Zion! Let’s calm do—oof.”

“Zion-ssi, I think—‘ack!’—it would be best if you—‘Did you just bite me?!’—both just stayed still—‘Get away from me!’ ‘I can’t!’—for a moment,” Eugis finishes weakly.

She glances to their right where Serpens is fretting over them (one more than the other, actually, but that’s not the point), looking very much like a weeping angel.

“Do you want me to calm your mind, Zion?” he offers tearfully, his palm alight with divine power.

“No. Just get him away from me!”

“I told you, he can’t,” Humanus interjects, fending off Zion’s pinwheeling arms. “He’d have to slice us up first.”

Zion pauses in his assault against the crown prince and takes a moment to absorb his words. He then turns to Serpens with conviction.

“Will you be able to do that painlessly if you used a divine blade?”

Serpens begins to sob.

Eugis watches Zion hug him as best as he can and silently brings her hands together, asking the goddess Luxmea if she could perhaps break the spell presently so they could all be rescued from their current predicament.

You see, at the moment, Zion and Humanus are—quite literally—attached at the hip.

It all began with Humanus bragging about his tree house.

“It was our favorite hangout back when we were little,” he said around a mouthful of cookies.

“Really,” Zion said doubtfully.

“Yeah. We used to play there all the time.” They both turned towards Serpens.

Serpens took a sip of his tea and placed it back on the table without a sound. “We did.”

“Can we go see it?” Zion and Eugis asked in tandem, the former asking Serpens and the latter asking the actual owner.

Humanus clapped his hands excitedly. “Sure! Let’s go right now.”

“Ahem,” Winston cleared his throat. “Sunbae, I believe you said you were ‘swamped with work’ today.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Zion said with a flippant wave of his hand, already pushing Serpens towards the door. “I’ll just do it later.”

Winston mutely held his gaze, and Eugis once again found herself marveling at how Zion could brush off the pressure coming from the 7 foot-tall knight without breaking a sweat.

“Let’s go!” he cheered, and on they went.

They arrived at the base of a magnificent tree behind the crown prince’s palace. The sight of it sent a pang to Eugis’s heart, the towering trees of her own kingdom brought to the forefront of her mind. Dozens of feet above the ground, a tree house sat snugly between thick branches, looking well-maintained and not at all like it had been abandoned for a decade.

“Is this sturdy enough for Winston and me?” Zion asked, inspecting the rope ladder that hung before them.

“Pretty sure it can handle Winston’s weight,” Humanus said with a quizzical tilt of his brow. “But why do you say it like that?”

“What, you expect me to climb this myself?”

“Uh, yeah? Serpens and I did it all the time when we were kids.”

Zion stared at him incredulously, then began pointing at all of them starting with Humanus. “Divine power.” At Serpens. “Divine power.”

“Elf!” Eugis said helpfully once it was her turn, earning an appreciative nod from her friend.

“Muscle,” he continued, pointing at Winston’s scowling face. Then at himself. “Puny human.”

“It’s just a ladder,” Humanus said, unmoved.

Zion took a deep breath, and Eugis hurriedly grabbed him in a bridal carry before he could start insulting his future king. “We’re off first~”

And with the help of her wind spirit, the two of them shot up in the air towards the open doorway of the tree house, Zion screaming all the while and clutching at her neck hard enough to tickle (he was puny like that).

By the time the rest of them had reached the tree house, Zion had regained his wits and was back to being his jovial, energetic self.

“Look at all this stuff!”

“I know, right?” Humanus said, dragging Zion towards a rocking horse bedecked with jewels. “Here, this was one of my favorites.” As was typical, he failed to notice the mildly disgusted look Zion threw his way when he caught sight of the colorful gems and missed his muttered “Rich people”.

Serpens, not wanting to be outdone, quickly searched for other toys to present to him. Winston opted to pretend to stand guard near the entrance, resignedly looking on as his illustrious master tried to get Zion off the rocking horse by tempting him with a miniature holy sword.

Eugis took it all in with a contented smile. With a happy sigh, she calmly walked around the spacious room, studying each item and wondering which of them Serpens could have genuinely enjoyed. She gravitated towards a shelf full of books, running her fingers against their spines and picturing a young Serpens reading them (prolific her imagination though may be, she couldn’t quite bring herself to imagine Humanus ever cracking open a book outside of his princely classes). Picking a book at random—a tome bound by warm brown leather, the color of Zion’s eyes—she perched on the windowsill and began to read.

It was several minutes later when the outside world filtered into her senses.

“Serpens, what’s this for?” Zion asked, holding a nondescript key in his palm.

“Um... I’m afraid I don’t know.”

He turned to Humanus next. “Your Highness?”

“Hmm?”

Zion held the key towards him and repeated the question.

“Huh...” Humanus said, pondering for a moment, taking it from Zion’s hand and turning it this way and that, before giving it back with a shrug. “Dunno.”

“But this is yours, isn’t it? It was in your toy chest.”

“Must be, yeah.”

Zion clicked his tongue.

“Did you just—”

“Never mind, Your Highness. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Contrary to his words, Zion immediately asked for Serpens’s help, and together they began to look about the room searching for its lock. Eugis joined them soon after—

“Perhaps it’s for a secret door that leads to the heart of the castle, but His Majesty the king had thought you unprepared for such knowledge so he asked a mighty wizard to wipe it from your memory!”

—and Winston saw it his duty to help his master as well. They scoured every inch of the tree house, leaving no furniture or stuffed animal unturned.

Finally, after nearly a quarter of an hour, Humanus let out a triumphant shout, holding something up as he sat on the floor.

“Found it!”

“Don’t be so proud, Your Highness, you were supposed to know to begin with.”

Humanus threw Zion a hurt look. “At least congratulate me...”

“Yes, yes,” Zion said obediently, already sidling up to him to see it for himself. “Congratulations, Your Highness. You’re very smart. Good job remembering what you forgot.”

“...”

Eugis approached them and stood over them to find the keyhole... in the middle of a toy knight’s chest.

“What the heck is that?” Zion asked as he knelt next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder for balance and looking at the strange doll askance.

“It’s a doll I commissioned,” Humanus explained unhelpfully—Zion’s distrustful gaze turned to him. “Why are you suddenly looking at me like that?”

“... Anyway, is it a wind-up toy or something?”

“A what?”

“Never mind. Just put the key in the keyhole already.”

Zion handed the key over to him, and the three of them—Serpens had joined Eugis to stand over the two, and Winston had gone back to his station next to the doorway—watched in rapt attention as Humanus slotted it into the keyhole and gave it a single twist. There was a soft click, and for a short, awkward moment nothing happened, and Eugis was left wondering if the crown prince of the kingdom had somehow commissioned a fraud.

But then a blinding light swallowed Humanus and Zion whole, and she could do nothing but cry in alarm as the two disappeared in a flash of green.

The brilliant light disappeared as quickly as it came, and an unbelievable sight revealed itself before her.

Eugis stared in abject horror.

Serpens started mewling.

Humanus screamed so loudly Euges’s ears folded against her head of their own accord.

And Zion stared down at his—and now Humanus’s—body and was only able to let out a soft “what the fu-” before he promptly fainted.

Eugis must’ve dissociated for a bit, because she can’t recall what happened while he was passed out. But now Zion’s awake, and Eugis is lucid again, and all she can do as they wait for the magic scroll to expire is to prevent her friend from committing regicide.

She gently encloses his wrists in her grasp to stop him from pulling at Humanus’s luscious goldfish locks again.

“It was supposed to be a prank, but Serpens never asked what the key was for and after awhile I just forgot!”

“You forgot you commissioned a doll to be booby trapped with a merging scroll?!” Zion all but shrieks, his voice reaching new decibels and causing Humanus to hold up a glowing hand against the ear closest to him. “Get on your knees!”

“What?” Humanus asks in bewilderment, then repeats it a second time with more fervor when Serpens—as if on instinct—folds his legs beneath him and raises both arms above his head, his angelic face full of contrition.

Eugis lets go of Zion with a sigh and watches him comfort the now crying Serpens. She’s quite certain elves don’t get migraines—she hasn’t had one herself despite having lived for hundreds of years—so the building ache behind her eyes must be a side effect from the scroll’s magic. Right?

#thanks for the prompt! <3 I wasn't expecting anyone to suggest the webnovel of my life ToT afraid I can't write tcf since it's been years :(#for anyone who might read this but haven't yet read duke please repent: trust me. this level of crack is equal/less than what's canon #and yes. zion rivelon is a rude potty-mouthed little troll of a guy and we love him for it #this is the first thing I've written in MONTHS and it's deranged and I had fun so yay!!!#duke please repent #the duke's redemption #bff writes

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