#and this piece too it took so long to finish

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

The situation ha dbeen tragic and sullen. And yet they also had their moments of light with each other. Little bouts of banter, looks, that closeness – still. When Queen Ifalan showed up suddenly, Somnus felt like they had been caught doing something far more scandalous. His panicked quick-spoken explanation of the situation somehow was taken by the Queen. With a certain look, but still.

The Lucian Prince was sure that this would haunt him for a while.

At least he could change out of the uniform that now felt scorching hot on his skin after the Queen had seen him in it soon. The change back into a simple toga was quick - and yet Somnus had to add his blue shawl and the signature royal decorum. This was an official evening after all.

Aerith’s fears about the urn’s fate were met with a little shake of his head and amused pull of one corner of his mouth.

“He really would have laughed about that – and about us. But no. That won’t happen. The urn will be secure. Have one of the servants carry it.”

Because surely it would be too public if the Princess was carrying an urn openly for the entire ceremony. A linen cloth to keep the piece of gratitude safe and hidden for now would serve well.

Looking over her shoulder – and sometimes urging her to eat by simply handing her grapes and pieces of fruit, so she would not outright ignore them – Somnus watched her finishing it.

It was a piece fit to stand in the libraries and halls of treasures of the castle. It was delicate, fine brush strokes detailing armour, wreath, temple, intertwined vines and bringing a new breath to the otherwise very bold and direct strokes Lucis used in its art.

“It’s beautiful”, he whispered quietly, eyeing specifically the soldier. He resembled Nikolaos. It was perfect. Such a wonderful piece and yet it was for such a sad occasion.

A faint noise travelled through the cooler air coming with the impending evening. It was a trumpet, calling out in a long almost wailing noise.

Somnus straightened his back and gazed towards the windows.

“That is the first call. Six more will follow to announce the beginning in an hour. It calls the people to gather.”

So, it would begin. Torches and fire bowls starting to light a winding path up to the hills, where priests and priestesses gathered first around the family and closest friends. Their chanting would follow the trumpets soon when the night started to lay over Lucis like a dark blanket.

His eyes travelled to Aerith again. She would need help. And as much as she had taken him around on their first evening to show that a festive was not that bad, now it was his duty to help her navigate this night.

Stepping towards her, he gently took the urn from her. Just placing it to the side. He would not force it out of her hands, should she actually want to carry it all the way. But she needed guidance. Like how he instead took her hands in his and guided her to follow a few steps back. To then dip her hands into one of the shallow bronze bowls of water. The warmth and oil helping him to brush and massage the paint off of her fingers, though he took his time with each one.

“Don’t be afraid of what is to come. I will be with you every step.”

Aerith watched Somnus take up his position again. The playfulness had seeped out of their movements, but it was little wonder when such a heavy topic weighed on them.

She found herself feeling grateful for this particular Lucian custom. It meant their privacy would be assured, and Nikolaos' family would have a moment all of their own. It would be quiet. Respectful. Not even their families could tread on such a moment of deep importance.

Her gaze cast from Somnus to the urn. Had she been dallying too long...?

"Let's get to work then." Aerith uttered, her tone a little hardened by determination.

Her brow creased in concentration as she worked. She became selectively deaf too, it seemed, because when her mother stood in the doorway and asked what this was, it was left to Somnus to explain.

She barely even cast her own mother a look. "I'm not stopping to eat. Somnus? The soldier is all but done, thankyou for this, I won't keep you much longer."

But keep him she did. Her mother arranged for a tray of food to be brought to them, a grazing tray of various things rather than a big meal. It was the kind of thing that was served for a day of no appetite and she certainly wasn't interested, fingers stained with various inks and paints as she filled in the finishing touches.

"You know what would be hilarious? I mean, I might cry, but I think Nikolaos would laugh. If the winds kick up like I heard them on our first night here. I was a little intimidated, I could hear the terracotta on the roof shuddering, and I thought for sure that something would have broken." She gave a pointed look to Somnus. The sun barely slithered over the horizon. Whatever light was left would soon be replaced by the flickering fire braziers.

"The ink on this will still be drying. And I swear, it's the perfect night for those winds to return and topple this to pieces."

Maybe she shouldn't speak such thoughts out loud. It felt like she was tempting bad luck.

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[frostedclock-writes]

Crimson Magnolias

Part 5

Warnings: r rated and for a mature audience, one sided romance, Hanahaki disease

Alastor x female! Reader

(Art by me)

Part 4

Part 1

------

New Orleans in the fall was always so gorgeous, the cool nights filled with music in the streets and the smell of shrimp and pork permeated through the very bricks of every home. Alastor's home was no different, you always were smelling something delicious cooking in his kitchen anytime you stopped by. Today it smelled like he was making blood sausage, so you knew to expect dirty rice, collard greens and cornbread to accompany it.

You messed with the hem of your dress as you watched Alastor bring out two plates from the steam of smokey flavors and smells escaping the archway of his kitchen. His smile was as big as ever and his brown eyes met yours as he set the plate down in front of you. It made your heart flutter in your chest, your stomach turned flips as he moved to his side of the table and took his seat. His fingers smoothed the curls of his dark brown hair, then dusted his hands off and pulled the napkin down.

Carnsarnit. You forced yourself to stop staring at him for so long. Friends don't do that. Don't turn on the radio at the same time he's airing every night and listen to his voice as he provided entertainment across this grand city. Shouldn't sit at home and think of the outfit you were picking out, and would be to his liking or was it too tawdry. You knew you were sweet on him, and it made you feel like a foolish school girl at times.

Especially after he dipped you the last time the two of you were cutting a rug. Gosh, his face had been so close to yours that you noticed he had a small gold band around his iris surrounded by a rich brown. He was stronger then his slender frame suggested, his hands were so firm on you that it didn't even cross your mind that you might get dropped. His long think fingers played across your hip like you had been his piano.

Just breath. Forget about it. Push it down.

" Alastor, this looks delicious. " You laugh a little and look at the filled plate.

" Ah, it's nothing but a simple dish I make time from time. Perhaps I should ask you over when I have a better selection of meat available. Now that! That will be a meal simply to die for I assure you. " His smile seemed to stretch a few inches.

" Oh, well, if your cooking it, I'll die happy then. " You joke. You poke your fork into the sausage.

Blood streaked across the white plate.

" Would you have prefered something else? Perhaps I should serve up shark next time," Alastor made a laugh.

The smell of raw meat brought your mind back to reality for a moment. You realize you had been poking at the same piece of rare venison on your plate next to a small collection of sides. The noises of the swamp came crawling back, cicadas and the dripping of water mingled together. Alastor's red ear flicked and his eyebrow was cocked, his smile stretched thin.

" Oh! No, no," you make a gentle laugh, hoping to lighten the mood at the table. You take a bite of the meat, the savory flavor hit your tongue. Tender and melted almost like butter in your mouth.

Alastor gently placed his fork down next to his half finished food, his red colored finger lingered on the handle of the fork for a moment as his hand lifted up. His eyes met yours. He picked up his whiskey glass and swirled it right under his nose before taking a drink. He took a small drink and after he swallowed, he looked so intensely at you. You opened your mouth to speak when it turned into a startled yelp as you felt goosebumps prick your forearm And you looked over and see the phantom shadow affectionately called Shade by yourself. You made a small laugh as you put your hand over your heart.

" Shade, you startled me!"

He looked at you with an unnaturally tilted head, his crooked smile was large and stretched. He made what might have been mistaken or radio static kind of hiss. His eye-like features turned downward like he was upset. You made a chuckle and reach and touch the silhouette of the left ear. Always made your skin almost feel cold, goosebumps.

" What? Are you mad at me too? "

Flicking of channels kind of sound. You really wish you could interpret what the mostly coporial shadow was trying to say.

" Dont be like that. "

Static hisses. The shadow wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, it felt funny and made your whole body feel like it was tingling. You make a laugh and stroke under where his chin would be if he was more then a simple silhouette of his master.

" It wasn't like it was my intention to get picked up while I was out on my errands."

You look ahead to Alastor, hearing the drumming of fingers. His eyebrow twitched and he cleared his throat. And unspoken order it seemed. Shade seemed to look abashed before it dispersed, you make a small hum and pick up your own glass of rye. You took a small swig and let it burn down your throat.

" He just picked you up? On the side of the street like some.... " Alastor tapped his hoof on the soft swamp ground but you could still feel it.

" He saw me and he wanted to catch up. " You make a shrug. " He didn't do anything, so I don't see an issue." You take another bite.

" That isn't the point, Cher. " Alastor tutted. " He wants to use you for his own gain. "

You made a laugh. Perhaps a bit harder then you had intended. " Says Master o' Manipulation himself. " You set your fork down.

" That makes me uniquely qualified to tell when someone else is doing it. " He rubbed his knuckles against his chest and glanced at the red tips of his fingers.

" And being a friend of yours for so long, gives me the talent of recognizing when someone's trying it on me. Or do you not trust me to make my own decisions?"

A sound like a mix of an elk bugle and a record getting scratched. Alastor's ears folded back a little. " That is not what I was meaning in the slightest. "

Was he jealous?

That was silly though.

" Alastor, we've been friends for a long time. Don't you know if I felt threatened I would have told you? I did it once before, remember?"

He paused and his smile was still strained. Forced on his lips at this point. " Yes. "

You tap your glass with your fingernail, " If Vox wants to know what your up to, I already told him he's out of luck on that." You look back over to Alastor. " You never let anyone in. "

Alastor picked up a folded cloth napkin and brought it up to his lips to wipe them clean. He fell quiet after that, it was moments like this that you really wish you could at least guess what this man was thinking. Just a little would do. Such an enigma in his thought process, when you think you know what he might do, he goes and makes a change. For the shits and giggles it seems more often then naught.

The sounds of the conjured bayou filled the silence between the two of you.

You picked back up your fork and take a bite of your food, it almost cold at this point. You didn't mind. The sounds of silverware scraping gently against porcelain plates mixed in with the melody of crickets and creaking willow and magnolia limbs. You look back towards Alastor, who had returned back to what remained of his meal.

" Alastor..."

" Tomorrow I have an overlord meeting, would you be amenable to accompaning me?" He cut you off about the same time as you spoke.

" What?" You make a small laugh. " Am I even allowed to be there?"

Alastor made a hum. " Doesn't matter," he placed his fork on the empty plate, "in fact it would be amusing of thrm to argue with me. "

You cock an eyebrow. " Are you taking me just to see what the others say?"

Alastor laughed and slowly rose to his feet. " Oh, of course!"

You paused for a moment and then make a chuckle under your breath, you look at the man you have loved for decades. " Why should I have expected anything different...." You set your napkin from your lap inti the empty plate. The edges stained with blood and leftover juices.

A hand was extended. Alastor had his gaze away from you but his hand offered to help you from your seat. You took his hand. Soft. You suppose that was one way to discribe his palm. The dark color that coated his palm and crawled up his forearm was like soft short fur that felt like running your fingers across velvet. The tips of his fingers curled around the top of your hand for a breif moment, like polished hoof that grazed across your hand. Smooth and hard.

Your thoughts wondered for a moment, how would those hands feel traveling up your arm, lingering touches across flesh you kept covered. Would the soft fur on his palms tickle your thighs as they glided across your skin like it was a dancefloor to him.

Alastor escorted you across the swamp ground until it turned to hardwood. He glanced down at you, you could feel his gaze. He was still holding your hand, you took a small moment to enjoy the lingering touch. Ginger really did ruin the lingering flavor of meat in your mouth. You swallowed down, petals moved in clumps down your throat. You coughed and cleared your throat a little, pushing down the itch in your throat down. His fingers slipped from your own.

He looked down at you with a softer expression then when you had followed him up here to begin with. His red eyes seemed to scan parts of your face. He reached forward, his red finger slowly seperated a piece of your bangs and his thumb ran across it as he brought it out from your face a few inches. Your heart felt like it was in your throat, your pulse quickened. His fingers slid down the piece of hair he had within his gentle hold, down towards where it met your shoulders.

" Hmm.." The hum in his throat seemed so far away for a moment. The strands of hair slipped from his fingers and he stood back up straight, reminding you of his towering height. He had something between his fingers. A stained white petal. " Trouncing about a garden?" He cocked an eyebrow as he gazed at the petal as if it was foreign to him.

Your stomach clenched. " Oh... Haha! " You made a quick laugh and you glance away from the offending flower petal. " Oh yeah, well..."

" My magnolias aren't in bloom this time of year..." He spoke under his breath.

" Ahah well who knows where my hair snagged it .. maybe a sinner I had passed. " You were quick to make an excuse.

Alastor tilted his head at an awkward angle as his gaze met yours, he seemed to be searching for something in your face. " Hmm ...." He snapped his head back into place in a quick motion that made a sound not unlike when you crush an empty bottle, " No matter! I have a broadcast to do!" He put his hand on your shoulder and he walked with you towards the door. " If you could check on Niffty for me, my dear, and then I shall see you in the lobby tomorrow morning. Bright and early! " He chuckled and adjusted his lapel to make sure it laid flat.

You chuckle. " Until the morning then. " You stepped out into the hallway with him. You look over towards him one more time. " And.... Alastor, " you began.

Alastor made a hum as he flourished his hand and his microphone materialized into it and he stamped it gently into the crimson and gold carpet. " Hmm?"

" I missed you. "

Alastor chuckled and he leaned his weight onto the cane for a moment. " And I you. " He melted like black sludge into the ground and was gone.

You took a small breath and turn and began down the hallway towards the staircase at the end. You could use a drink to wash the taste that stuck to your tongue like bile. Husk would have a good drink, maybe something fruity. The long walk down the staircase was quiet all except for the creaking of old wood beneath your weight, the lobby seemed pretty bare. No Angel or Pentious, and Charlie and Vaggie seemed like they had already retired for the evening.

You caught sight of Niffty laid out on the stained carpet, kicking her little feet in the air, already in her nightwear. She seemed to be messing with something. You glance over her pinkish-red hair to the little roaches in her hand like a child would hold a doll. Oh how could you forget the little roach plays. She must have heard your approach, she cracked her neck and looked up at you, a wide smile across her face.

" Y/N! Do you want to watch the show? Anton and Victor are fighting over Elizabeth, but Elizabeth is only in love with Anton. " Niffty waggled the roach corpses like they were little puppets.

" Oooh. Uh..." You look down at her and give a small smile. " I really would, but I feel like I've missed to many episodes to keep up right now, dear. "

" Oh. Okay. I'll let you know when the season recap is. " She nodded like it was the most sane thing she could imply about her roach play.

You pet the top of her hair, her hair was fluffy and soft despite it's appearance most of the time. You walk past her and avoid the extra insects off to the side waiting their turn in the morbid show. You take a small breath as you enter the bar, your shoulders relaxed and you could see the grumpy winged cat himself behind the bar. He scrubbed at a stain on the counter of the bar, his gold eyes glanced up as a creak of a floorboard announced you.

Husk made a grunt of acknowledgement.

" How was the day? At least it looks like the wall was left alone today. " You laugh gently as you take a seat at the bar.

Husk took out a clean glass and set it in front of you. He poured two knuckles of dark liquor. He made a shrug and his tired eyes stared at the rag as he wiped the few splatters that landed after he opened the bottle. " Better then a swift kick in the ass. "

You make a hum and take a small sip from your glass. Whiskey at least. A few minutes pass in silence, you let the whiskey burn away the taste of ginger. You set the glass down. " Husk, have you ever loved someone?"

Husk cocked an eyebrow, his hands stopped the job of cleaning the same spot over and over just a few feet down the counter. He set his rag off and he picked up the bottle of whiskey he had been pouring from, popped the top back off and took a swig straight from the bottle. He tapped a white claw-like didget from the hand that grasped the bottle.

" Once or twice. A long fuckin' time ago now. "

You rubbed the side of your glass with your fingers. " Did they ever love you back?"

" One, I think anyway. She's somewhere. " He made a shrug like it didn't matter.

" Did... You ever let the other one know?"

He set the bottle down and leaned on one elbow, leaning closer across the bar. His heart shaped nose twitched a little as his frown made his face scrunch. " I did."

You felt the tickle in your throat. " Ah..." You took a drink of whiskey. " What happened?"

" I told her to late and she was already gettin' fucking hitched to some guy who beat her to death about a year later. " He said it so bluntly, but his gruff tone held a twinge of regret.

You look at Husk for a moment and then you look back to your cup.

" Ya want my advice?" Husk narrowed his eyes and his long think red eyebrows scrunched together. " He ain't worth the shit your puttin' yourself through. "

You make a small frown. " That isn't -"

" Look at yourself. Anyone who fuckin' cares about ya would have noticed that ya look like a hellhound drug ya around and spat ya out. "

You make a huff of a laugh. " Thanks Husk. Really. You always have such encouraging and lovely words. "

Husk refilled your glass. " I just don't like seein' someone like you hurtin' yourself for a man that I fucking would bet my cards wouldn't do the same for you. "

You felt a twist in your gut. You shake your head. " I... He's different when your-"

"On his good side. " Husk said bluntly.

You sigh. You know he would feel this way. You drink from the whisky, drinking more than necessary and it made your head swim. " You just don't fucking get it... You only know him from down here... You didn't know him from when he was alive."

" Oh I'm sure he was peachy keen and rainbows."

" Husk. "

" Look ain't none of us good down here. And he's one of the worst. I just don't get how you can give any piece of that heart of yours to that bastard. " Husk turned around. " I ain't your afterlife coach. I just thought you wanted a pice of advice from a friend. And killin' yourself a second time for him isn't worth shit."

You lay your head down on the counter and make a gentle sigh.

You should either tell him.

Or...

Try to move on.

You can feel the petals in your lungs. Everyday it seemed to always get harder to breathe. Your throat was sore enough you might start loosing your voice. Your fingers go into your pocket and mess with the hard stock of the personal business card that Vox had given you.

You had enjoyed not thinking about it for once... And it doesn't seem like Alastor would ever be interested in you beyond being a long-time friend. And perhaps that's been your only saving grace in his bloody path through hell. He didn't even care enough to tell you he would be gone for years.

You take a deep breath and then thump your head back against the counter.

Outright rejection would hurt you as well.... You have a feeling the flowers would never go away then.

Magnolias.

You were once told that they represented perseverance.

But how much longer can you preserver?

taglist: @boldlyenchantingfox22 @sirens-and-moonflowers @phoephan-123 @girl-nahh-two @kerosene--lamp @l3rittany

[m4iya]

doing her hair after she complained that it takes too long...

Hinata Shoyo (High School)

“Ow! You’re pulling too hard!” 

“No I’m not!”

Your head was being tugged back and fourth as Hinata watched a simple hair braid tutorial from your open laptop.  “One.. two.. three..” He counted to himself, folding one piece over the other. You felt the occasional strand tug tighter than the rest, forcing many more shrieks of pain from you. 

“This is so hard.. do you really do this yourself?” He questioned, the confusion in his voice audible from behind you. 

“Everyday.” You replied, bringing your knees up to your chin. 

“Hmm..” His focused voice trailed off, being occasionally broken by the tutorial as he replayed the seconds that passed because ‘it’s going too fast’. 

You had been considering cutting a few inches off to help you get ready faster in the mornings, but you hadn’t been entirely sure. “D’you think I should cut it to my shoulders?” 

“No!” He instantly replied. You felt his grip on your hair loosen. “Don’t.. do that.” 

Intrigued, you attempted to turn your head to face him. Placing his hand atop your head, he twisted it back to its place. “I-I’m not done yet!” He stuttered. “You’ll mess it up!” 

“Oh really?” You teased. “You can always start again.” 

“No! I’m almost finished!” 

The tutorial he followed only ran for three minutes. However it took him almost twenty to part the hair into two chunks and braid both parts. At the end, he guided you to your vanity mirror, placing his hands over your eyes to keep them closed. 

“Done!” He confidently announced. “I think I have a knack for hairstyling.” 

Holding the braids in your hands, you had to say; they looked a little like what you usually did yourself. Tipping your head down, the way he had parted your hair was.. interesting to say the least. 

“Why is it zig-zagged?”

“Huh?” 

[zephyrine-gale]

jinx!

[heph]

Camping trip

Loosely inspired by this fic! Do mind the content rating.

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[sasoop]

Wanted to finish Red and Blue together, but I've been fighting for my life on Blue's piece and I've been real busy as of late so, here's Red by himself! This adult Red design belongs to @spadeprincesss who let me draw him! Thank you again for letting me do so when I had barged into your DMs and begged at your feet like a mad man! I am so (not) normal about this au!

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[nevlartery]

The King will come again to Spyre

[ID: A digital painting of Cassandra from Fantasy High, her face lit to appear more skeletal, as the Nightmare King. She is backlit by fiery orange light, and red crystal shards float around her head like a crown. Her hair billows upwards where it begins to look like clouds, and in the shadows of her body there are small stars]

[veresidae]

rough little tezuka rodya i finished in october...

[cookkoo]

#shumakoxmas23 Day 3: Last Night Together

"You make every moment special"

[ryelleart]

This has been sitting in my drafts since 2021. I don’t think I’m ever gonna finish it 😭

[majouartings]

PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA *inhale* PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE Z

[alchemist-shizun]

(you may need to click for better quality)

Couldn't get the thought of them in red out of my head and this came out you're all invited to the wedding

art taglist: @lance-alt @sasmeo-bisaster

[nitroish]

yet another commission for the wonderful @destructokats , based directly on a chapter from their fic ! <- link directs to the chapter in question