#but also... how do they STILL have those HORSE STATUES???

[guardian-angle22]

911 lone star -> tk & jonah waking up carlos in 5.12

[ranticore]

some more horse guy fashions, specifically historical

erased the mandolin for this one goodbye mandolin i couldn't be bothered drawing you

so my thought process for this is like what would a society of, lbr, british ppl who are horses value and how would that translate into what they wear if they specifically don't have a taboo against nudity. these fashions are pre-florian conversion (florian was the guy who gave them all government-mandated shame) and considered traditional (the full coverage dresses are also traditional but to a post-florian period so those would be called like. idk. classical). they were still in use in the enclaves north of ironwall for quite a while. anyway returning to the point, the answer to 'what they value' is movement. in actual horses, herd hierarchy and social function is based off movement - free movement for animals for whom the flight response is so strong is an incredibly important thing. dominance in horses is expressed and reinforced by controlling and curtailing the movement of subordinates. for these people, free movement was enhanced by kinetic fashion - free-flowing garments like capes, loosely-pinned headgear with feathers and floaty cloth, and noise-generating devices like bells and chimes were all used to elaborate and enhance the appearance of somebody's gait. the overall look was mostly based off of morris dancers (pheasant feathers, bells on the legs, handkerchiefs) because i like the tie-in to suppression of folk dance by puritans. i think these guys would have some great folk dances

in much the same way trainers are just normal everyday footwear now, game kerchiefs/flags were worn in non-sports contexts because it suffused into the mainstream and became Cool. the flags were used in a game similar to tag rugby if you've ever seen that played (where snatching people's flags is used instead of full contact tackling, forcing someone who's been 'tagged' to stand still until the flags are returned). as i said before somewhere, centaur team sports go incredibly hard.

the tail ornaments were status symbols and in appearance a bit like the traditional show turnout of shire horses. woven grass and straw could be used for a temporary ornament like these, but metal or carved wood were really impressive, and very common gifts of favour between romantic partners. more flags could be hung there if you wanted to be really cool

variations of this style of mane décor were also employed (they loved their ribbons)

in the same time period, Ironwall fashion was a little bit different. These expensive caparisons were usually purchased secondhand after a real horse was done wearing them, with distinct front and back halves of different length. The garments would usually have the original liveries removed and replaced by generic religious iconography as few centaurs would ever have their own heraldry. Later, in the Georgian and Victorian eras, full coverage to the pasterns with a single undergarment was the only acceptable option (that's the classical style now) The rest of the picture is self-evident, but centaurs at the time wore additional... equipment on the withers which were called a variety of very colourful names but mostly referred to as gelding bars (as in, they will geld you if you sit on them). they were metal and spiked. these were introduced by the florian government to discourage the grossly inappropriate contact of one person's legs around another. previously there was no great taboo against riding on a centaur's back, it wasn't super common but nobody was like "this is basically public sex" until our pal centaur cromwell i mean florian came along and decided this was the work of the devil. young people were also made to wear these to discourage the homosocial behaviour very common to the mid-20s age groups of both sexes, and they also had a place in preventing stallions from wrestling (ironically increasing the danger of their fights because well now all we can do is stand back and kick). the wearing of these devices was mandatory. headcoverings were not strictly necessary, and neither were fully-wrapped tails, but some especially devout citizens took to it quite well.

[burnttongueontea]

So, what is the deal with the world’s most conspicuously uneaten Eccles cakes? (A meta)

Well, I wouldn’t say it’s bad writing, not even the on-purpose-as-a-secret-message kind. I agree there is a visual ‘loose thread’ here that the creators wanted us to notice, but I don’t think the meaning has anything to do with Metatron or the eventual plan for S3. I think the eccles cakes are all about what’s going on in this episode with Crowley and Aziraphale, and they’re unsettling in exactly the way they’re meant to be, even if we might not register the full implications consciously on first watch.

On the most straightforward level, this shot is the punchline to a joke set up by Aziraphale and Nina in the coffee shop. Crowley orders six shots of espresso, bound to get him all worked up and stressy. Aziraphale, who desperately wants Crowley to be thinking clearly when he learns about the Gabriel situation, says to Nina: ‘What do you sell that calms people down?’ And she replies: ‘Eccles cakes.’ From this moment on the cakes are a visual symbol of what Aziraphale needs from Crowley right now.

That’s why they get so much screentime as we cross the road and go into the shop. Aziraphale won't leave those eccles cakes behind because he’s still hoping that Crowley will respond to the request they represent: Please stay calm, please be patient and listen to me with empathy.

But Crowley never does respond, and as he storms out we get that close-focus shot of the abandoned plate to make sure the subtext hits home. The cakes are framed sitting in front of the horse statue, brilliantly dressed up in Crowley's sunglasses, to remind us that they were brought there for him and he's dismissing them. (Crowley is the frantic horse who can't be managed!)

There’s another level to it, though, which doesn’t fully become clear until episode 6. The episode 1 meeting in Nina’s café is the first time that Aziraphale and Crowley share a scene in the present-day in S2, which means that the last time we saw them together was when they were dining at the Ritz. As viewers, we quickly recognise the visual language of their partnership: a table for two, a drink, a dessert. It feels familiar. But the food gets delivered and then nobody eats it. On that level, it is a set-up without a pay-off and it really niggles as you watch. S1 closed out their relationship with a happy toast after a resplendent dinner; S2 opens it with a snack that gets ignored. The dynamics of who offers food to whom are also off, atypical. It’s a sign of how things are going to go later on, hinting at the fact their dynamic is dysfunctional right now, even though it might seem OK on the surface.

Which brings me, finally, on to the other thing I’ve wanted to point out…

The punchline is that Crowley doesn’t eat the eccles cakes, but the really subconsciously disconcerting thing is that Aziraphale doesn’t. That he seemingly never planned to, and never orders anything for himself. In fact, we don’t see Aziraphale eat anything substantial in any of the present-day scenes in S2. The only things he consumes onscreen are sherry, tea, and a travel sweet. (Oh, and Manipulation Coffee, which is definitely a callback to Crowley’s disastrous sextuple-espresso.) We see him with food, yes, but primarily he wants to give it to other people.

For me this little detail of S2 – not something you even fully notice until you think about it – is a very telling understated cue in terms of Aziraphale’s post-Heaven state of mind. It's about what amuseoffyre puts so well in another meta: 'the whole series looks like he’s having so much fun doing silly human things, but there’s this brittleness to it.' At first glance, we see Aziraphale interacting with food and assume he is now living the happy Earthly life we wanted for him, but on closer inspection he's not engaging much in the pleasure of eating for his own sake. He gets a quick sweet pick-me-up on his way somewhere else in the Bentley - all alone - and that's it. He's too anxious, too busy, he doesn't have time. Crowley doesn't have time to invite him for lunch.

I find it fascinating that Gabriel gets a squillion cups of cocoa in this season, waxing all lyrical about them, and Aziraphale gets none. Aziraphale's mug becomes Jim's mug, even. And he mostly makes the tea to show Muriel how to blend in. In short, S2 Aziraphale is terribly preoccupied with looking after/managing others, and not taking the time to look after himself. Like the Maggie and Nina match-making, all that kindly treat-offering is displacement, displacement, displacement.

No wonder it all goes wrong.

[yanoverload]

Yandere Unicorn Hybrid

Hello dearly beloveds. I am early this time.

This is in the same universe as yandere cow boy and yandere tanuki, but set in the medieval times.

If you feel like it gives you Epic vibes no it doesn't.

I also feel like this is one of the longest I've written LOL

The cold mud seeps from the ground, and works as an ointment to my hurt feet. I sigh as I wish I had the time to stop, but if I do, the enemy will ambush me.

War was never a pretty sight. But humans, just like beasts, felt the need to shed blood for food, territory, status. I suppose that is the way of the world.

No one expected the ambush, it was cowardly, we were apart os a simple camp of injured soldiers and doctors, trying to recover from the losses. Enemy soldiers put fire in the tents, specifically in the medical center. I managed to run in only sleep rags, but maybe I should have stayed. 

Maybe I should've died with some glory, but I am just human. 

"I want to go back to my family" I hold my arm trying to bite off the pain. The bandages seem loose, and the stab wounds are starting to seep blood through my clothes.

Before I notice, my desperation makes me go further than normal, as I encounter a scenario I have never noticed in the forest. I don’t think I ever came this deep into it in my time at camp.

There were several flowers lying around in a wild, but also organized manner. It really was a pretty sight. In the center of the stage was a clearing, one where a river crossed right as the trees gave way, showing a beautiful sun.

I get one foot forward. Then another. Almost as if in a daze towards the river.

As I approach I see the trees are filled with fruit, perfectly ripe with no bumps or noticeable bugs, I check the water, it's clean looking and at perfect temperature.

Have I died in the middle of the forest and gone to heaven? Am I still in the medical bed hallucinating?

As I'm about to sip from the water, I hear a yell. I almost mistake it for the enemy soldiers.

"Begone filth! Before you damage this land with your corruption." 

All I see is a gorgeous human being, ethereal like never seen before. Pale like the moon, with eyes that glitter like stars.

Their hair, silky smooth, almost as blue and shiny as the river before me. In their forehead a horn. Have I met one of the fae? Did I step into a faerie circle?

As I behold the marble statue glaring at me, I feel as if the shine of the sun starts to dim, my body feeling heavier than armor.

I blink as I see the strangers worried and panicked state as I fall to the ground, energy depleted.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Some more facts about him! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the future, humanity changed their own DNA to produce hybrids. What they didn't know is that certain types have existed for centuries.

Unicorns are one of them. Believed to be a horse with a horn, they are rather humanoid figures, most commonly mistaken as faeries or elves for their graceful stature.

As beings blessed by life, they live in another dimension from other living beings, a paradise no one seems to ever encounter apart from those in fairytales.

Éliphas is one of those. But rather than in a group he seems to live in one of those havens by himself. Until you came along.

He's been lonely for so long, even if he seems to despise you... He wishes for you to stay.

Unicorns tend to prefer pure things, and you are not pure at all, but that doesn't seem to bother Éliphas.

Super tsundere yan.

Unicorns are supposed to be pure of heart, so he would never kill anyone, but he doesn't need it! Because you seem to be stuck in his domain and can't get out... Oh no.

He acts like a housewife

Says he's looking for a way for you to leave, but let's be honest he's lying.

Are you corrupting him perhaps?

Wears little to no clothes, how doesn't he feel cold in the forest? His domain is the perfect weather, not too much sun but enough breeze.

Height: 176 cm (5'9 feet)

[atiny-desire]

God Of War

Pairing: God of war! Mingi x fem! Reader

Summary: You get lost in a snowy winter night. Your horse spooked, and now you're on your own to find your way back home. Instead of your home, you find an old temple belonging to the God of war, Mingi. From now on, this would be your home.

Word count: 3.2k

Disclaimer: I'm in no way condoning, justifying, encouraging nor promoting this kind of behavior. This is not supposed to represent Mingi in any way.

Warning: Dub-Consent (Only touching, no smut.)

��◇◇

The moon above you was round and full, casting its silver light down on you and your surroundings every time it peeked through a gap between dark clouds. The trees from the forest you were stumbling through were bare. Their branches were decorated by a thick layer of snow instead of green leaves.

You wrapped your bare arms tight around your body, trying to save some warmth, but it did almost nothing. The clothes on your body were a poor excuse of clothing articles and doing nothing to help your body in preserving your body heat. This would be easier if you had a horse, but your horse was the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. It had suddenly spooked at something, completely catching you off guard and threw you off. You could only watch as it bolted away into the cold night

You left deep footprints in the thick snow as you dragged your weakened body forward. Soon, those footprints would be filled up by the fresh snow that was silently falling from the dark sky. You could barely feel your limbs, and your fingers didn't move how you wanted them to. As you stumbled through the forest you longed to be at home where you could curl up in front of a fireplace, fill your stomach with something warm to eat, and finally fall asleep in your comfortable bed. You concentrated on the small misty cloud that formed every time you breathed out. You tried anything to get your mind off of the harsh cold.

Your body was weak, and your eyes began to get a bit droopy when you saw something in the distance, finally something else than snow and trees. A flicker of hope bloomed in your chest when you spotted the outline of a building between the thick forest flora. You wanted to run toward it, but the exhausted state your body was in simply didn't allow it. Your eyes were trained on the grey bricks. The closer you came, the more the building revealed itself to you. At first, you had thought that it was just a small ruin or an abandoned house, something you hoped would give you shelter, but what you found was much bigger than what you had expected. What you found was some sort of temple. A thick layer of snow covered the roof, and naked ivy veins climbed up every inch of the structures walls. The building would have been completely hidden away by the lush green had it been spring or summer.

Stepping into the building, you had to quickly realize that you wouldn't find much protection of the cold here. Time had clearly eaten away at the temple. Lots of cracks and gaps in the walls allowed the wind to howl through the building. At especially large gaps, snow started to pile up, and the ivy that had already covered the outside also partially found its way inside. You walked further inside, even if you were still cold, at least you were protected from the snow. You noticed that the walls were covered in paintings. A lot of the paint had peeled off and chipped away, but some of the artworks were still partially visible. It was mostly art related to war. Armies of men fighting the enemy force and illustrations of losses and victories.

If you weren't on the brink of passing out, you would have gladly taken your time to look at the ancient paintings, but your main concern was staying alive. You walked past an old altar, the stony surface was stained in a dark color. Old blood. A lot of sacrifices must have been made here in order to stain the stone permanently. Behind the altar stood the podium for a statue, but the statue itself was gone. You retreated into the far corner of the temple, snow couldn't reach you there, and the wind wasn't as strong.

You curled up on the ground, your legs were pulled close to your chest and your arms wrapped around them. As mucbas you fought against it, your eyelids still felt heavy, threatening to fall closed at any given moment. You knew you couldn't fall asleep, not if you wanted to keep fighting, but your mind started to play tricks on you. Maybe if you just rested your eyes for a moment, just to get some energy back, you wouldn't fall asleep. As soon as you closed your eyes, you could feel the impending sleep gnaw at you, and your exhausted body was just too happy to give in and slip into unconscious. Your last sleep, you thought.

The next time you were conscious again, you felt warm. Warm? You were confused as to why you felt warm because the last thing you remembered was passing out in that old temple. You kept your eyes closed. You were too exhausted to worry about why you weren't freezing anymore. With a sigh, you pressed yourself closer to the source of heat.

It wasn't until you heard a chuckle from above you that your eyes snapped open in an instant. You tilted your head to look up and were promptly met with the chocolate brown eyes of a handsome man. At first, you only stared at him in awe before you fully came to your senses. You could feel his skin against yours along the length of your body. "There you are, darling. Though I might lose you." The man spoke and let his hand graze over your cheek. His touch was hot, almost burning your skin.

Considering your situation, you were somehow eerily calm. You slowly sat up and pushed his hand away. Till now, you haven't said a word, but one glance down your body was enough to make you gasp. Even if you had felt his skin against yours just a few moments ago, it only now registered in your head that you were naked. Your hand clutched th blanket, keeping it close to your chest to hide your body. Beside you, you could hear the man chuckle again. "Where am I? Why am I undressed?" You moved a little away from him so your bodies weren't in contact anymore.

He hummed and tilted his head as if he had to think about where you currently were. "My temple, darling. The temple of war. Although, mine is a lot more appealing than the one in the human world, isn't it?"

You took a look around you, the abandoned temple you remembered passing out in wasn't there anymore. Instead, you found yourself in a lavishly decorated bedroom. Pillars made of marble carried the unnecessarily high ceiling, golden ornaments were worked into almost everything, even the marbled floor. Two statues of the man beside you silently guarded the large arched double door of his bedroom, both of them almost managed to reach the ceiling. "I don't understand." You muttered when you looked back at him. Nothing he said made sense to you. How could this be the same temple you passed out in? And he still hadn't answered why you weren't wearing your clothes. "And my clothes, where are they?"

"What's there to not understand?" He sighed and shook his head. "My temple, you're in my temple." He repeated, this time a lot slower. He probably thought you were a little dense. "Your clothes? Well, I had to take them off. They were drenched. How could I possibly keep you warm with them on?"

You swallowed hard at the thought of a stranger undressing you. He saw you in your most vulnerablestate while you were passed out. The thought alone made you a little squirmish. "Please give them back, I have to go home."

But the man only shook his head again. "Oh no, you don't have to." He gently pushed you back down by your shoulder. The soft bed molded to your body, almost swallowing you up. This is what you imagined it would feel like if you slept on a cloud. "How about you rest first, hm? I imagine that last night must have taken quite the toll on your human body."

Without resistance, you let yourself be pushed down again. You were far too compliant for a woman who woke up in the bed of a naked stranger, but something about him was soothing. It's almost like a lullaby dragging you into the dreamland or a sirens song luring sailors into the depths of he oceans. "Why do you keep talking like that? Like you're not human."

"Because I'm not. I'm the God of war." His hand landed on your cheek again now that you were lying back down. His fingertips wandered over your cheek, slowly down to your neck and coming to a rest over your pulse point. "Darling, why do you seem so confused? Do you not believe in the Gods."

You were sure that this man was trying to mess with your head. Human realm, a temple that suddenly shined in its old glory, and now the talk about Gods? Most importantly, claiming to be a God himself. So either he was trying to fool you, or he was the one who wasn't right in the head. "It's a lot, isn't it?" The man beside you spoke up again. "I get it. You'll have to get used to it. It isn't every day you meet a God, huh?" Meanwhile, his hand on your neck started to get restless and slowly began to wander. His hand traced from the nape of your neck, slowly down your spine, and over the curve of your behind until his hand came to a halt on the back of your thigh. The entire time his hand wandered over your body, you held your breath. You didn't know this man, but strangely enough, his touch didn't feel unpleasant, quite the opposite, actually. His touch left a warm prickly trail on your skin, his touch just as comforting as resting under the warm sun.

"Breath, darling." His voice lowered into a throaty purr which let his chest vibrate.

His words snapped you out of your trance, and you finally let air fill your lungs again. "Who are you really?" You asked him warily. In your mind, you were thinking about moving away from him to create some distance between the stranger and you. However, your body seemed to have other plans than your mind and stayed glued to your spot on the soft bed with silk blankets covering most parts of your body.

His hand softly squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh, a satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin. For a moment, he looked a little lost, his mind seemingly elsewhere and his eyes staring off into the distance right through you. Just when you were about to ask again, he answered you. "Well, my name is Mingi, if that's what you're asking for." That's all he said. He gave you no explanation as to why you were with him. It was clear that he was too distracted. His fingers twitched to explore more of your body and let them roam freely all over you, but for now, he decided to behave himself a little and keep his hand on the back of your thigh.

You sighed when he really didn't reveal more about your current situation. It looked like you would have to pull the answers out of him. "Why am I here?"

Mingi had previously let his eyes wander over you, watching your form, which was hidden under the blankets. His eyes glued to your chest in particular. His gaze was narrowed at the blanket, which was pulled up just enough to protect your modesty, like it was the bane of his existence. But now his brown eyes met yours, at first glance they were kind and gentle, but with further inspection you could see that there was a storm right beneath the surface and ready to cause destruction, given the first opportunity. "How often do I have to repeat myself, darling? You know where you are, whether you believe it or not, you know it." His answer was less than satisfying. Your face pulled into a frown.

His hand let go of your thigh to reach for your face, his thumb stroked over your forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles that formed there. "Don't frown. I'll give you the answers you want, but it's not my fault if you dont believe them." Mingi sat up and stretched his arms over his head. The blanket had fallen off of his torso, now pooling around his hips and just barely covering his full glory from you. The muscles under his skin rippled with every movement. His body looked like he was sculptured by Pheidias himself.

You didn't mean to stare, but it was hard not to look when you could see how his biceps bulged, as well as the veins prominently running along his arms, and the muscles of his stomach flexing as he stretched his body. You swallowed hard at the thought of what would happen if the blanket slipped just a little lower. Mingi noticed you staring in his peripheral vision, but he chose not to say anything. "As I said many times before, you're in my temple, but you should know that, shouldn't you? After all, you're the one who wandered in here."

Suddenly, he stood up from the bed, a smirk tugged at his lips when he heard a small gasp coming from you. He had his back facing you, but you still quickly averted your eyes elsewhere. "You may think I was the one tugging you into my bed, but it was you who crawled in, really. Curling up against me like a stray kitten almost frozen to death." He spoke. You had no recollection of this. Then he shrugged his shoulders and corrected himself. "I might have guided you a little, but you're the one who came to me first, still."

While he was talking, he started to get dressed, and you watched. Well, at least he partially got dressed because his torso stayed mostly bare, only covered by a pelt sling with a one-sided shoulder pad. "It has been a long time since someone visited my temple." He mumbled, you swore you could hear some bitterness in his voice. Mingi turned back around to face you again. "But I guess the wait was worth it?"

"But that doesn't answer your question, right?" He chuckled as he began to roam around the lavish bedroom again, searching for something until he found and pulled out a pot with red paint in it. "I'm a God, darling. The god of war mainly, but also a symbol for bravery, virility, and victory." Meanwhile, he began to apply the paint to his body in a neat thick stripe on the side of his torso and over one side of his face. "Stumbled right into the lion's den." He muttered under his breath.

"Do you really think I believe that?" You asked. You couldn't help but scoff at what he had said. "Anyone can say that they're a god! Please just tell me where I am, I am serious, and I want to go home soon."

Mingi sighed and shook his head. "Why do humans always have to be so stubborn?" He muttered quietly. His movements stopped, and his head turned to look at you. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Of course, you didn't know better, but once you enter the realm of the gods, there's no turning back. At least for mortals like you, there isn't." His body followed his head, now facing you completely. "You're in the temple of the God of War. Sacrifices made to me are usually dead or on the brink of it, and guess what you were when you stumbled in here."

He sighed again and walked over to the bed, which was still occupied by your naked form hidden by the blankets. "Hate to break it to you, darling, but you're mine now." His hand reached out to caress your cheek. What he said was nothing but a lie. He didn't feel any remorse about this situation whatsoever. In fact, he relished in it. Finally, he has a pretty thing by his side, keeping his bed warm while he is out and about.

"But my home... I have to get home!" You protested.

"Why?" His head tilted while his hand roamed down to your neck. It was like his hand had a mind on its own because he couldn't keep his hands to himself. "What's there for you? No man, no family, no friends. Why are you so set on going back?"

You were a bit taken aback about his sudden assumptions about you. He wasn't wrong, but it was still surprising how accurate he was. Was it written on your face that you were a loner? It seemed that your surprise was written on your face because a low laugh emitted from deep within Mingi's chest. "I'm a God, darling. Of course I know. I know about everything that happens in my territory, and your little town you call your home just so happens to be a part of it." He mused. His eyes were on his hand while he gently caressed your skin. "My time of glory and worship might have been a long time ago, but that doesn't mean that I disappeared. This land is still mine. I'm the one who has fought for this land centuries ago, and I'm the one who still protects it to this day."

Suddenly, his eyes sparkled with mischievous while he looked at you. "It's a shame you couldn't see the glory of the old days. You would've made a pretty war trophy."

Even if you wanted to move, you couldn't. His touch was stronger than the most potent narcotics, easily keeping you in place with feather like brushes of his fingertips. His words made you think, and you had to come to the conclusion that he was right. There was nothing waiting for you, at least nothing worth noting. But it couldn't be this easy, right? You couldn't just stay with a man whose touch was so incredibly tantalizing that you doubted your own sanity, a man who you just met, and a man who claimed to be a God. "Prove it to me. Prove that you're a God."

"Oh, I will, in time." He replied and straightened himself up. His touch left your cheek, and it took everything within you not to follow his hand like a cat begging for pats. "But not now. There's something I have to take care of before the other gods start to bother me about the fact that I'm keeping a human in our realm." He sighed and rolled his eyes. He would much rather spend time with his new pet, but he would have to tell Hongjoong, the father of the gods, about you if he didn't want to be cast out from the ranks of Gods and Goddesses.

He turned to leave, but he was stopped by you just before he could. "Wait! At least give me my clothes back."

He hummed, pretending to think about it before he shot you down with a flat, "No." A small grin spread on his lips when he continued, "I think I'm going to keep you like this, so I know you won't wander around and cause any havoc while I'm not here."

You huffed and glared at him. Your hand, which was holding the blanket protectively to your chest, tightened in the fabric. "You-!" He didn't even wait to listen to what you had to say. With large steps, he walked out of the room. The door shut closed behind him, and you were left alone, sitting on his bed with just your thoughts. This situation was absurd. You should be freaking out, screaming, and kicking, but you were calm. It didn't seem like he had the intention to hurt you. You were safe. Maybe you should listen to him. Maybe you should stay.

It's not like you ever had a choice in the in the first place.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Malleus Draconia - With Cyno Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

I chose to do only Malleus since I didn't want to spend three hours typing again. I made this into a split between Headcannons and a oneshot since I couldn't decide which one I wanted to do. There was also not alot to go off of to make the headcannons, so I just added more of my own context to it. I hope this is adequate to what you asked for, I did my best! —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙

🐲 When he first met you, Malleus immediately noticed your off-putting and downright ominous aura. He wasn't affected, of course, but he did notice that almost everyone else was. He sympathized with you, as he causes the same reaction in people that you do. That fact that you understand his everyday struggle certainly made it easy for the two of you, and by extension Lilia, to become close.

🐲 Malleus also noticed how you didn't really seem to be too affected by the fact that the majority of the student body feared you. In fact, you told him that you completely understood that you were scary and that you needed to be due to your role as the Mahamatra. Your status and experience as a warrior have given you a fearsome aura and you use that aura to instill order in your subordinates when the time comes. ...Malleus still has yet to ask you what a Mahamatra is exactly.

🐲 He had once asked you why you carry a staff, which you later explained to be a polearm from your country of origin, Sumeru. Seeing you wield your spear with such ferocity and accuracy was quite an enlightening experience for Malleus. He was really only ever used to seeing Lilia, Silver, and Sebek train with their swords and their magic. Secretly he wanted to ask if you would teach him how to use a polearm, but he doesn't know how to approach the question.

🐲 Something that Malleus didn't expect, however, was the 'dad jokes' as you and Lilia had called them. His father figure and you really seemed to bond over that, actually. You used it to ease the fears and tensions that derived from your overall appearance and demeanor. The dragon fae wondered why he never thought of doing that himself but.... well.....

——————————

"Hey. You four."

The magicless student from another world towered ominously above a group of students who had been whispering about his fearsome appearance; a shadow cast over his eyes as he spoke lowly.

The previously gossiping students trembled in fear as he stood before them, unable to muster up any words or thoughts. Across the cafeteria sat a certain dragon fae; his keen ears picking up on their conversation. His shoulders slumped when he heard them speaking to him as though he were some sort of monster; yet he couldn't ever bring himself to try and make friends with those people as he was sure that they would run away. Malleus shakes his head to break from his thoughts as he tuned back in.

"—ou call a well balanced horse.....?"

The intimidating foreign boy asks the students in a cold tone and waits a few moments in silence,

"Stable....... pfffft— Hehehehehehehe, get it, 'Stable'? 'Cause horses live in stables?"

Everyone in the cafeteria who had heard his joke collectively sweat dropped, including Malleus. The poor fae prince was equally appalled and amazed; his eyes couldn't help but wander to the bat fae seated to his right. That joke...... was awful; he almost felt his entire body scrunch in on itself as he cringed; trying to hide it with a blank face.

"A good idea... I suppose... but such poor execution."

Malleus muttered quietly to himself, a cartoonish sweat drop falling down his temple at a comically slow pace.

The previously scared group of students only stared at the magicless boy in confusion and disbelief; not knowing what to do. Where did that come from? [Name], receiving no response, only cleared his throat before reaching into his back pocket and taking out a small notebook. He flips a few pages before stopping on one and giving a firm nod.

"Ahem— What's red and bad for your teeth?.... A brick. Hehehe, get it?"

The magicless male chuckled with a boyish grin as he cracked yet another very bad joke.

Malleus only stared at the boy, a slightly strained smile on his face, stuck between whether to view him with respect for dissipating the fear that he conjured by his mere presence or with disappointment at the awful jokes that he surmised you got from his father figure.

——————————

🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[teamchasezwrites]

Second Chance (1/3)

Word Count: 3,724

Characters: Damian Priest/Unnamed OC

Genre: Romance

Tags: Anxiety, Waffling, Creative Licensing on Real Events, Stars Align, Kissing

Summary: Some people are worth a second chance. (A Wrestlemania XL Night Two fic)

Author’s Note: This was initially supposed to be a simple one shot. Then it morphed into a second part in Damian’s POV. Then finally a 3rd part. An error on my part with writing Damian not involved in night 1, but I had already written part 1 and most of part 2 before I realized and liked it too much to change. I did watch Damian’s doc but any errors in his road to WWE timeline are on me and creative licensing. This is written with an unnamed female lead as I tried to make it x reader, but I’m not very good at writing in the first person.

Part II Part III

The atmosphere was electric. Lincoln Financial Field held over sixty seven thousand screaming Eagle fans weekly during the fall. Usually she was one of those Eagle fans screaming herself horse from way up in section 243 at the coach to run the damn ball. She was still smarting over their epic collapse five months later when she thought they were Super Bowl bound finally ready to take the Chiefs down but alas…

She shut down that anger like she had earlier when she felt the need to raise her finger at the stadium as she was walking in. Of course across the parking lot, Citizen’s Bank Park loomed where the Phillies went down with a whimper in the playoffs. In order to save her sanity, she didn’t even look toward the Wells Fargo Center. She did however stop to take a photo with the Nick Foles statue.

Thank God for St Nick.

Or Big Dick Nick.

Tonight wasn’t about sports teams and their ability to continuously raise your hopes only to dash them in the end.

No.

Tonight was about a different hope. Though her heart still had the ability to be broken into pieces like in playoff ball.

With sports, there was always next year.

With love you tried to catch that flame and ride the magic. Hopefully forever. When the magic ended with love, hearts moved on to someone else.

With sports teams you went down with them to the bitter end.

“Jesus Christ I hope it’s warmer tonight.”

She looked to the seat next to her where her sister stood in front of the steel folding chair with the Wrestlemania XL logo. She held her phone in the air, taking a video of the crowd, the music, and the atmosphere.

“If it’s like it was last night, I’m leaving.”

“The fuck you will!” Her sister snapped at her as her fingers tapped over the phone screen. No doubt posting the video to her Instagram. “Do you know how much Bill spent on these tickets?”

Bill, her sister’s second husband. Bill, who was nearly twenty years older than her sister. Bill, who worked in the financial district in New York City and made it his mission to spoil her sister. She was sure her sister loved him in a safe, older man kind of way. He provided for her, gave her security. Random trips to Italy. After her disaster of a marriage to her first husband, she deserved it.

“I nearly lost a toe last night!”

The stadium wasn’t covered like most NFL teams seem to be learning toward when trying to get their cities to foot the bill for a new one. The Linc was open aired as they came. It provided views of beautiful sunsets and planes coming into land at the airport just down 95. Depending on the side you sat on and the time, the sun roasted you alive. It also rained on you if you weren’t lucky enough to have a seat under a cover. It also provided no shelter from the cool temperatures April always brought to the Northeast. Where winter liked to hang on as long as possible before it released its grips to spring and the blistering summer.

“I think I saw some Cody Rhodes socks at the merch tent.”

She side eyed her sister not finding the comment funny. She made sure to bring a pair of gloves and a toboggan. She almost brought a throw as well, but decided not to. If the second night was anything like the previous night, she would be spending more time on her feet than huddled in her chair.

“Probably just as well,” her sister grinned. “You shouldn’t be wearing someone else’s merchandise.”

She was saved at having to reply when the opening festivities started. As the National Anthem was performed, she barely heard the words, mouthing in reflex with her hand over her heart. The crowd cheered at the conclusion as music hit the speakers. Inside the ring, a pretty black woman smiled over the crowd as she announced the special guest, Stephanie McMahon.

Nerves built in her stomach and continued to roll and twist into knots as the first wrestler, Drew McIntyre made his entrance with bagpipe players lining the stage. Their sound echoed through the stadium. It wasn’t until the stage filled with members of the Philadelphia String Association members and their instruments and outlandish outfits did she lean over to her sister.

“I think this was a bad idea.”

She was nearly drowned out by the music on stage and the crowd singing rolling “ohs”. She learned last night it was just what they did with the next wrestler.

“What?” Her sister’s head snapped toward her as she looked away from the stage.

“I said,” she paused as the crowd roared with cheers. Looking up at the big video screen above the ring, she saw Seth Rollins made his appearance. Dressed outlandishly in an outfit that fit right in with the Mummers surrounding him. “This was a bad idea.”

“I heard that. I was just giving you time to change it.” Her sister pursed her lips in annoyance. Or disappointment. She wasn’t sure which. Being ten years younger, she was used to receiving those looks throughout her life from her sister.

“Be real.” She sighed.

“I am.” Her sister turned away from the ramp Seth was currently making his way down. “You were excited when I told you I got tickets.”

“I was. I am…” She insisted.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Look around Sis,” she waved her hand around her acknowledging the thousands of people packed inside the stadium, the cheers, the lights. “You think with all this, he’ll notice me? Let alone recognize me? It’s been so long…”

Ten years.

Ten years since the man she thought she’d marry, create a family with, would love forever, up and left her.

‘This isn’t working anymore.’

The words crumbled her heart and stole her breath. She’d been imagining her future with him and he was leaving her behind.

“You never know.” Her sister shrugged. “You caught his eye before. Who’s to say you won’t catch it again? Besides, I’m tired of listening to you wallow after another failed date with yet another guy who failed to measure up to Luis.”

Well…

She turned away from her sister to stare at the ring where Seth and Drew were currently locked together in their match for the championship belt Seth currently held. From the rumors she read online from various social media sites, Luis – Damian Priest – was going to cash in his Money in the Bank briefcase that assured him a title match.

“It has to work.”

She turned her attention back to her sister. “Why’s that?”

“These tickets were cheaper than getting that tattoo removed.”

Ignoring her smirk, she looked down at her left hand. There, on the inside of her ring finger over the second knuckle toward the third, stood Luis’s name written in a delicate script font. The tail of the s making a small heart.

“Can’t imagine any man wanting to slide a ring over another man’s name,” her sister said dryly.

The tattoo had been part of a drunken night nearly three years after their break up. Her roommate at the time was an aspiring tattoo artist. She wasn’t sure what led to the tattoo – the night remained a black hole in her memory. She woke up the next morning on the living room floor with the kind of hangover she hadn’t experienced since her first year of college. The pain in her head matched that on the pain on her hand where a fresh tattoo sat on redden skin.

Concealer became her friend. She carried it around like chapstick. One in her purse. Another in her car. The desk at her old job. A tube in the drawer of her bedside table. Even one laying on the coffee table in her apartment. All to hide the name of the man she never got over. Even now, the ink was hidden beneath a layer of classic concealer.

Her mind wandered during the match thinking about Luis and how long it’s been since they shared the same space. How different he looked in his appearance now compared to then. The cut of his hair. The trimmed facial hair covering his cheeks. The numerous tattoos covering his arms, chest, and back. His muscles more defined and cut. The added muscle weight making him appear bigger than before.

The ringing of the bell drew her attention back to the match. Drew McIntyre was standing victorious in the ring with the gold championship belt hoisted high in the air with one hand. The crowd roared in celebration. She could see a dejected and limping Seth Rollins making his way back up the ramp sans the belt he wore to the ring not that long ago.

She couldn’t help but feel letdown, a sagging feeling of sorrow eclipsing her body while thousands cheered in happiness around her.

This was supposed to be when Damian cashed that briefcase in. But he never appeared. Did all the articles and tweets she read get it wrong? How could Damian make an appearance now? The match was over. Drew won. In a second or two, Drew would leave the ring and make his own way back up the ramp. The show would continue. The window to see Damian gone.

Her thumb unconsciously rubbed over the inside of her finger, right over Luis’s hidden name.

Disappointment set in. She knew it was a chance nothing would happen. Even if Damian came out, there was no guarantee he would see her anyway. Though she would be terrified standing in the ring with thousands of people staring at her, she imagined for him the people all blurred together. Seeing them but without seeing them.

“Oh Damian is definitely cashing in!”

She tuned an ear to the conversation behind her. It took everything she had to not turn around and pepper the person with questions. How did he know!

“Oh yeah!” Came a laughing response. “He’s spending way too much time fucking with Punk.”

The video screen above the ring showed Drew now standing on the announce table. She couldn’t make out the words, but she bet it was trash talking a guy sitting in the office chair wearing a headset. She didn’t know who he was. Her deep dive into the briefcase and Damian didn’t include other wrestlers and whatever beef they may have with each other.

The Scottish music cut off as Drew was knocked off his feet. The crowd went wild as they stared chanting “CM Punk” as the wrestler continued his beatdown of the new champion.

The lights on the housing area, lining the ramp, and at the top of the ramp switched from green to purple at the same time music blared. The crowd lost their minds and she swore she felt the ground moving.

“I told you!” Her sister grabbed her arm, her fingers squeezing tightly.

A blur of purple and black ran down the ramp in the midst of cheers. She found it hard to see with everyone standing, dancing around, and their arms in the air. She looked up at the screen and her heart stopped.

Damian.

She watched the whole sequence without breathing. Jamming the briefcase into Drew’s head. Handing off the briefcase to the referee. Picking up a beat down Drew from the ringside floor and tossing him into the ring. Him climbing into the ring and the ref ringing the bell.

It felt like it lasted hours.

Damian lifted Drew high above him with one arm and slammed him to the mat before falling over him in a pin.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rang and crowd’s roar strengthened once again.

“And here is your winner! And NEEEEEEW world heavyweight champion… Daamienn Preeeist!”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Damian on the TV high above the ring. Holding the title in one hand with both hands above his head in victory. He then flexed his arms down and let out a roar, the sound buried by the fans cheering.

“I told you!” Her sister shouted again, her hand still gripped her arm and she shook her with excitement. “Get over here!”

She was practically thrown into the fencing that created a barrier between the seats and the ramp. It moved slightly but she was able to regain her footing. Fans around her all stormed to the fence as Damian rolled from the ring. They screamed and shouted his name.

He appeared at the bottom of the ramp and she got her first unobscured view of him. He looked larger than life. The black leather gear he wore molded to his body like a layer of skin. His hair – much fuller than photos she’d seen of him – hung all over his shoulders in thick braided dreads, complete with purple and red scattered throughout.

Her heart thumped wildly but she was frozen. This was different. This was Damian. Not Luis. She didn’t know Damian. How could she expect him to react at seeing her? It’s been ten years… she looked different just like he did. He was a whole new person! He broke up with her for a reason.

This isn’t working out…

“What the fuck…”

She heard her sister mumble, but she was struck mute, she could only watch as he stalked up the ramp. The confidence she never knew he had exuding off him in waves.

“Damian I love you!”

Her eyes widened at the scream next to her. Her face grew warm against the coldness in the air. She could only watch as Damian’s eyes drifted from the top of the ramp toward the side… in her direction.

She could tell he was about to smile or wink in the direction of the proclamation. He’d probably done it hundreds of times. When their eyes met, his face morphed into shock. Recognition dawned in his eyes. She watched as his steps faltered.

“Smile you fucking idiot,” her sister elbowed her sharply.

She smiled.

At least she hoped.

It didn’t appear she had any control over any of her muscles at the moment. Screams grew louder around her and bodies jostled one another. She blinked and Damian was right there in front of her. His chest heaved with heavy breaths from the exertion and complete pandemonium. A slick sheen covered his bare arms. Taller than she remembered. Though his dark eyes – popping from the thin line of eyeliner outlining them – were the same. They stared directly into her eyes and deep into her soul. The crowd noise faded – muted in the background. The people around them blurred. It was just him.

“Luis…” she whispered and she wasn’t sure he heard until his eyes flared.

Then she was in his arms wrapped up tight. The corner of the belt dug into her shoulder where he still clutched it in his hands. The other end brushed against the back of her thigh. She loved being in his arms. His hold so tight offering a sense of security and protection. A feeling of home washed over her. Warmth radiated from him and she pressed her hands against the satiny spandex of the top of his ring gear. With a shuddering sigh, she relaxed into him.

“Fuck…” his deep voice reverberated through her body. She felt him tuck his head down, hiding his face from view. “I gotta go…” the words caused her arms to tighten as if she could keep him there forever. “Please stay. I’ll…fuck…just don’t go.”

She nodded her head and felt the squeeze of his arms one more time before he slowly pulled away. Her eyes met his, swirling with emotions. The dull roar of the crowd around them threatened their bubble.

In a quick movement, his hands cupped her face. His fingers were still curled around the black leather of the belt strap. The back of his fingers pressed into her check. His head lowered and he kissed her firmly and quickly. His lips disappeared in a flash and with a soft caress of his thumb over her cheek, he was gone leaving her breathless.

She watched as he stalked up the stage, the belt in hand to a group of people at the top. She recognized them from photos as part of the group Damian was in. He met them with his arms stretched wide. Two members dressed in black hugged him from either side, while another in bright white shoes jumped up from the front. Finally, a woman joined the foray. They bounced up and down as they all hugged. A moment later they turned to face the crowd, Damian standing tall in the middle. He raised his championship belt up high above him in both hands while the others raised their hands in victory. The crowd roared in celebration.

Then they were gone.

“So…”

She turned her attention from the empty ramp to her sister. Her sister had her arms crossed with a smirk on her face. One eyebrow arched and her head tilted as if to say ‘told you so’.

Her checks flushed with embarrassment as she took in the faces of the people around her. She ducked her head and moved back to her seat stuffing her hands in her coat pocket to hide the shaking. This time it wasn’t from the cold. She wasn’t feeling the low temperatures anymore. A warmness wrapped around her from the moment her eyes met Luis’s. She licked her lips, drawing his taste.

“Here,” a wipe came into view. She looked up to see her sister holding out a white towelette with one hand while the other was pressing the flap down to close the travel package of make-up remover wipes.

“What’s this for?” She stared at it questioningly.

“You’re obviously not gonna be needing that concealer anymore.” Her sister smirked and pressed the towelette in her hand.

She clutched the damp wipe in her hand. Her skin still tingled where he touched. She could still taste him on her lips from even the quick kiss they shared. She tucked the wipe into her coat pocket not making the move to reveal the finger tattoo.

“Chicken,” her sister murmured as the crowd jumped to their feet as the music for the next match started. “What did he say?”

She looked around, but the attention had diverted back to the ring. She still leaned closer to her sister just in case. “He told me to stay. Not to go.”

“Like stay here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess?”

As the night grew longer, nerves settled in her belly. The voice in her head grew louder.

‘He’s not coming.’

‘He was just being nice.’

‘You caught him off guard.’

‘He doesn’t want you anymore.’

It took everything she had to keep herself planted in her seat. Not to beg her sister to leave. To go back to the hotel and remember how his lips felt against hers. The memory of his arms around her.

“Miss?”

She almost missed the call, zoned out watching Logan Paul, who she recognized from YouTube, wrestle in the ring. Next time she couldn’t sleep, she would Google how a YouTube star not only ended up in a wrestling match, but was a champion.

Her sister nudge her breaking the zone she was in. Catching her eye, she followed the nod toward the barricade where a man stood motioning for her. Dumbfounded she pointed to herself. At the man’s emphatic nod, she stood and slid past her sister to the barricade.

“Yes?”

“You with Damian?”

“Well…I….” She stuttered until a kick to her foot caused her to blurt, “yes!”

“Here.”

The man handed her a folded up piece of paper ripped from a note pad. Before she could question, he was gone. Sneaking along the barricades ducking out of view.

“What is it?”

“A piece of paper.” She answered sitting back in her chair. The paper pressed tightly in her fingers.

“No shit,” her sister rolled her eyes. “What the fuck does it say?”

“I…I don’t know.” She stared at the white paper. Void of anything on the outside. Schrödinger’s cat stared her in the face. The words on the inside of the paper could be everything or nothing at all.

“Want me to read it?” Her sister offered.

“No. Just…” She pulled her closer to her as she turned her body toward her sister. Their knees touched and their bodies hunched to create a makeshift wall to block prying eyes.

She took a breath and slid her finger in between the flap and pressed it open. Slanted chicken scratch she knew so well greeted her.

I can’t get away. Meet me at Embassy Suites tonight??

The note ended with his phone number and was signed with just an L.

“The cost of these tickets were worth it after all.” Her sister elbowed her in a teasing manner.

“You don’t know that.” She read the note again, memorizing the number; different than she remembered. “He might just want to catch up.”

Her sister sent her a look. “Right. The kiss he planted on you was just to catch up.”

She blushed as a smile toyed with her lips. She folded the paper back along the crease and stuffed it in her coat pocket keeping it in her grasp.

“Are you gonna go?”

“How? We’re heading in the opposite direction.”

“I can drop you off.”

“Then I’ll be stuck there.”

“Would that be so bad?” Her sister wiggled her eyebrows.

No. Being stuck with Luis at a hotel wouldn’t be bad. Not at all.

“Who cares about logistics,” her sister continued. “I will drop you off after we leave here or you can take me back to your place and come back down. It doesn’t matter. Text him right now and tell him you’ll be there.”

She mulled over her sister’s words. She was right of course, not that she’d share that tidbit of information with her. Being able to be in the same space as Luis again? She couldn’t turn it down.

As the music hit for the final match of the night, she pulled out her phone.

‘I’ll be there.’

Next Chapter

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 4]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Three

➨ Chapter Four

Next: Chapter Five

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

A/N: shout out to my very own "power bottom at rock bottom" (aka my roommate) for harnessing her inner Angel Dust and feeding into some of his dialogue.

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER FOUR

The car ride home was mostly silent and incredibly tense.

You also couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. When you looked around to sate your paranoia, you found nothing suspicious and whittled it down to the anxiety having your face plastered across every news channel in hell.

On your way out of her father’s manor, you decided to fill Charlie in about your hands and cheek. She said it was a gamble whether her dad would react well to your being human or not. Being neutral to it, however, was something she would not have imagined. She was just relieved that you were alright. 

She theorized that he may have assumed you were just wearing face paint for ‘shits and giggles’ (your words, not hers). There were some demons in Hell that did have skin tones similar to when they were human, so it wouldn’t be too outrageous for you to, as well.

Though it would be no surprise if he jumped to the conclusion that you were human due to your being televised all over Hell the day prior.

Not knowing where his head was at was going to kill you.

But worrying about that wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Charlie believed you two had searched everywhere in her old place that was likely to hold the key to you getting home. To your relief, the likelihood of returning was slim to none.

There was no need to stress over her father figuring you out since you wouldn’t have to risk running into him again.

The only thing you needed to focus on was getting those godforsaken cobwebs off the chandelier in the hotel foyer.

Vaggie was able to get the place mostly cleaned up in the time you were gone, but there were still a few things left that you were able to help with. After all they had done for you, this was the least you could do for them in return.

As you climbed back down the ladder, you saw Charlie pacing and muttering to herself. Even though you only met her recently, you knew how much the hotel and her plan to redeem sinners meant to her.

If this didn’t go well, she would absolutely take it to heart. She seemed like the type to barricade herself in a room to sulk for weeks on end. Or maybe bawl her eyes out whilst shoveling heaping spoonfuls of ice cream down her own throat.

Probably both.

“You know, this place is really coming together,” you said as you walked up to her.

She paused to face you.

“You think so?” she asked, glancing around the foyer in search of anything in need of tending. “Gosh, what if he doesn’t like the color scheme, or—or the motifs? What if he decides he isn’t interested in redemption at all?”

“Hey,” you said to get her attention as you leaned back into her view. “If he weren’t interested in what you’re offering, he wouldn’t be coming by to check things out. And I really don’t think your choice in décor will be what turns him away.”

You chuckled a bit as you glanced at the odd horse statues and slightly tattered wallpaper. It wasn’t modern or trendy, but it did have character. That was for sure.

She nodded with a far-off gaze, ruminating on your words.

“Even if he does decide that this isn’t for him—though I don’t think that will happen—there are so many people down here! I find it hard to believe that you won’t find some who are interested,” you continued. “Think about all the souls that believed they’d be going to Heaven but ended up here instead. They’d probably give up an arm and a leg to be redeemed.”

Her shoulders slacked, and her back loosened as she released a deep breath. Looking back at you, her face appeared more relaxed.

“Yeah…you’re totally right,” she said with a soft smile. “We just need to be patient.”

“I think this guy would be stupid not to accept your offer.” You bumped her arm playfully as you went to continue tidying up.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her smile and walk off, presumably to do the same.

Everyone was putting the final touches on everything when there was a knock on the front door. You paused in the middle of sliding the sofa across the room so you could get a look at whoever was there.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other in surprise.

“I told him to text or call before showing up,” Vaggie grumbled, running a hand through her bangs as she went to answer the door.

He was quite…tall.

You had forgotten their appearances could vary so much. Charlie, her father, and Vaggie were relatively similar to a regular person, despite some slight cosmetic differences. This guy, however, had an extra set of limbs and was covered head to toe in what looked like fur. 

Upon closer inspection, he also had what appeared to be three additional pairs of eyes underneath his primary ones.

Was he supposed to be a bug?

You shuffled forward as Charlie introduced herself. She had fixed up your makeup once you returned, so there was nothing to worry about regarding your own appearance. You had double and even triple-checked beforehand.

“This is it?”

“Uh…yes?” Charlie said meekly with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

He gave the foyer a hard once-over.

“Eh, anything’s betta’ than my current digs,” he said with a shrug and started walking around. “You got drinks?”

“No? The point of redemption is to stop engaging in sin,” Vaggie stated, crossing her arms. “Which means cutting out drugs?”

“You’re kiddin’ me,” he said as his body slumped. “What the hell am I supposed to do then? Play checkers?”

“Ooh, Checkers would be a fun way to break the ice!” Charlie sang, clapping her hands together.

This earned her a blank look from the new guest.

“Aha…” she laughed awkwardly at the bland response, then turned to gesture at you. “Well, this is our current resident! We have faith that she will be redeemed very soon.”

You gave a wide smile as you were being shown off. Should you strike a pose? Put your hands on your hips and puff your chest out in pride?

You didn’t mind being a fake example of a sinner-gone-good to help her out. It was the least you could do at this point. Plus, when you finally got the hell out of there, you could all play it off as you being ‘redeemed’.

“Yup, yup. Sin-free life has been pretty great,” you said, crossing your arms.

The guy already seemed exasperated. Vaggie was right when she said he was more interested in free rent than redemption itself.

“What did you say your name was again?” you asked in an attempt to keep the conversation from dying out before it had even started.

He perked a bit and plastered on a sultry smirk.

“Angel Dust,” he said as he swiped a hand through his hair(?) (head fluff?). “If you’re interested in gettin’ to know me betta’, I’ve got a nice collection of videos I can refer ya to.”

“No,” Vaggie groaned. “He’s a pornstar.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“I mean, more power to you,” you shrugged, and he snickered.

“Wasn’t expectin’ that sorta career choice to fly with someone aspirin’ to cross through them pearly gates.” He tilted his head as he eyed you carefully, leaning down slightly to be more at your eye level. 

“What makes you think that?” you asked, raising your chin. “In my opinion, a redeemable gal like myself should be respectful of other’s bodily autonomy.”

“Last I checked, the pious types weren’t so down with cock-suckin’ hoes. I mean,” he paused and smirked, “some of ‘em were down with us cock-suckin’ hoes, but they did their darndest to pray that shit away afterward. The guilts part of the kink.”

Vaggie’s stance tensed more and more with each word that came out of his mouth. You were pretty sure her eye was twitching.

“Good people are accepting people!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her arms out.

“You ain’t ever have to deal with the living, sugar-tits,” Angel said, draping himself over the couch in a way you were sure would be put on the front cover of a Playboy magazine. “But sure.”

You all began a short tour of the hotel much like the one you got when you first arrived. This time, however, Charlie was really trying to sell her redemption plan to him. She explained the terms of their deal. He would refrain from acts of sin, such as violence, drugs, yada-yada, and he could stay there for free.

As you began filing out of one of the available, move-in-ready rooms, you noticed Angel pause. He was looking at the ground with a blank expression, clearly contemplating something. You assumed he was weighing the pros and cons of Charlie’s offer, but you were no mind reader.

After showing off most of the relevant parts of the hotel, you gathered back in the entryway. Charlie stared Angel down expectantly, waiting in suspense for his decision.

She was overjoyed when he finally agreed.

“There’s no harm in tryin’, I guess.” He shrugged shooting a half-lidded smirk. “But I ain’t makin’ no promises that I’ll be the paragon of redeemability. I ain’t that type of model.”

When he left, he said he had to clear some things with his boss first and then he would start this whole ‘redemption thing’.

The three of you had a miniature celebration—juice, soda, and popcorn to go along with eager chatter—before you decided to address the stack of books you had hauled back to the hotel.

The evening was going swimmingly thus far, and you hoped that good luck would carry on to the very end of the night. Somewhere in that pile was your key to getting home. Your fingers were crossed that you would be sleeping in your own cozy bed that night.

You could finally take up your own offer on a nice hot bubble bath and let it soak away all the stress that had stockpiled within your body.

Sitting in a circle around the books, you began sifting through them.

Your hope dwindled bit by bit with every one you flipped through and set aside. They had everything to do with the living world except for the means of getting there.

Once the last book was deemed useless, you sat in sullen silence. A sort of emptiness settled within your chest.

If that was your best shot at returning, what else was there?

“Okay…that’s okay!” Charlie said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “We just have to try something else. Vaggie, you said you knew people who had access to Earth, right?”

“I said I knew of people,” she corrected. “But I did do a little bit of digging while you were out, and I might have a few leads?”

“Oh, perfect!” Charlie chirped, sitting straight up with her hands on her knees. “How about we look into those tomorrow then?”

You and Vaggie both nodded because what else were you supposed to do? You didn’t really have the option of giving up in this situation. Your life wasn’t going to wait on hold forever. It probably wasn’t waiting at all.

At this point, two full days would have passed since you ‘disappeared,’ but living alone makes it harder for people to notice that sort of thing. You doubted Devon would have reported it since that would likely result in them getting into even deeper shit (in addition to the can of whoop-ass you’d release onto them once you made it back).

And you knew better than to put any amount of faith into Jack. You were sure he noticed your absence. You had the texts to prove it. But he seemed to be convinced you were giving him the cold shoulder, which would most likely result in him pretending he didn’t give two flying fucks about you.

Fuck that bitch.

♡

You wouldn’t say you slept like a baby that night, but you sure did sleep. You slept with the weight of despair threatening to overtake you with each failed attempt of finding a way back home.

And you know what?

It wasn’t half bad. Would you recommend it to someone else? No, not really. But you couldn’t tell them it was terrible.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you padded your way down the grand staircase. It was nice not having to wake up early to get all done up, but you still felt groggy. Possibly from sleeping too much.

You also appreciated being able to spend more time in the pajamas you were given, because good lord were they comfy.

Charlie and Vaggie let you know last night that they’d be leaving earlier in the morning to talk to the folks Vaggie believed might be able to access the living world. You stayed behind because you all agreed that dragging you through public in a not-so-durable disguise was a disaster waiting to happen.

However, they planned to be back in time for Charlie’s father to visit.

He had called her the previous night—just before you were all about to go your separate ways—to let her know he wanted to stop by. She told him he could drop by in the afternoon, and that was that.

You planned to coup yourself up in your room for the duration of his visit. You would rather die than address what had happened with the paint. If he had any questions regarding that, he could direct them towards his daughter. Thank you and goodnight (love you, Charlie! Muah!).

There was nothing to do until Charlie and Vaggie returned, but you still wanted caffeine or anything that could clear your brain fog.

They had stocked up the fridge and ‘pantry’ a bit more since you arrived, and Angel would likely move in any day now so there was also that to consider. Yet it was still a gamble on whether or not you could find something appealing.

You kneeled down in front of the fridge and began rummaging through your options.

Mysterious leftovers?

No.

Artichoke Hearts?

Eh…for breakfast? Probably not.

Coconut Milk?

No… You were surprised they even had coconuts in Hell. Unless, of course, they had sinners that manifested as coconuts, then you reckon they could milk—

No, absolutely not.

You were thinking about settling on a popsicle when you heard a knock at the front door.

Nobody should have been stopping by yet. Charlie’s dad wouldn’t be there until later, and you guys weren’t expecting anyone else. It could possibly be Angel, but you doubted he already spoke to his boss considering it was still morning.

The stained-glass doors didn’t disclose much about your surprise visitor. They were merely a shadowy figure, distorted by the odd shapes and colors.

Regardless of who it could be, you needed to hide or at least find a way to get back upstairs without being seen.

Slowly rising to your feet, you locked onto a rather large crate near the edge of the entryway.

You wouldn’t have to cross in front of the door to get there, which was ideal. Even though you knew the person on the other side couldn’t see you clearly, you preferred they not know you were there at all. Once you were at the crate, you could easily make your way around the room undetected.

Just as you were about to slip around it, you heard the front door creak open.

“Hello~” sang a familiar voice.

You hastily dodged behind the crate, your feet sliding slightly underneath you due to the new socks you had been gifted by your hosts. Thankfully, you were able to stabilize yourself before falling into anything.

Your heart was pounding away in your chest.

What was he doing here so early?

You pressed your back against the crate as you carefully sat down to wait for him to pass. Listening to his footsteps crossing the room was doing nothing to soothe your nerves. It was clear that he was in no rush to move on through the hotel. You could hear him as he sauntered around the foyer, pausing every once in a while before continuing on.

If he was taking in the sights, it was only a matter of time before he got to your side of the foyer.

You had to get out.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly peeked around your hiding spot to see where he was and whether he was looking your way.

To your relief, Charlie’s father was investigating a portrait on the wall opposite of you.

You wasted no time creeping across the floor to take cover behind the tattered old reception area. There was a body-length mirror resting against the wall just a few feet away that would give you a relatively good view of where he was.

As you were about to lean close enough to see through the mirror’s reflection, you heard him begin to hum just a few feet away. You scrambled to get beneath the desk.

How did he get so close so fast?

You understood the guy wasn’t human, but still. You were able to hear his footsteps clear as day up until that point. He shouldn’t know you were there; you were being so quiet…

Holding your breath, you waited for him to put some distance between the two of you. When you felt he was far enough away, you slowly scooted to the other side of the desk where you could hopefully get a view of the mirror.

Hearing him tampering with something, so you took the opportunity to glance at the mirror’s reflection.

He was prodding at one of the broken columns, testing its stability, it seemed. And his back was facing you. Perfect.

Glancing around the edge of the reception desk, you could see that the stairs weren’t too far away. It was a pretty open area, however, so you wondered if it would be better to beeline it down the adjacent hall instead.

Figuring that was likely the safer option, you checked the mirror once more to make sure his back was still turned.

You met his gaze in the reflection, and your eyes went wide as his lips curled into a wicked grin.

Fuck.

In a panic, you threw yourself out of view and knocked your head into the desk’s edge. The collision was certainly loud enough for him to hear, but you kept your pained whine quiet as you cradled your temple.

Your train of thought was quickly growing fuzzy, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Was it best to run?

What if he was faster?

Would your chances be better if you found another place to hide?

Probably not… He already knew where you were, and you weren’t sure where else you could even go.

All you knew was that you couldn’t stay where you were. If his eyes were still trained on the mirror, you would probably be better off going back the way you came. Maybe there was a gap in the crate that you could worm through to hide. It would be like you disappeared.

You turned back in that direction, and as you were about to dart back to the safety of your original hiding spot, two legs stepped in front of you.

You gasped, sliding to a halt just before you could crash into him.

Charlie’s father slowly crouched down to your level as you tilted your head to look up at him, eyes as wide as saucers. His smile was wide, showing off his large, pointed teeth.

“What do we have here?”

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

Tag List: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150 @froggybich @darling-angel222 @preciousbabypeter

[kenandeliza]

A Marvel Family Fantasy AU

A few days ago, I randomly dreamt of Drawing Billy and Tawny in a fantasy setting.

Billy was this kid wizard and Tawny was his companion (or an animal to ride on like a horse)

Then it got me thinking, maybe in this setting, Mary could be someone of high status in this fantasy setting (since she's in a rich family in the golden age comics)

I'm inclined to think Freddy would be a captain of a ship for irony-sake but I have a feeling pirates and fantasy settings don't match well?

It's just funny for me to think of him with a peg leg xD

After further discussion with @the-brash-spud :

Warning: Too many text :>

These are the ideas we have so far (if there are quotation marks, those ideas belonged to @the-brash-spud ):

—

Maybe Billy and Mary were prince and princess separated by birth, (i'm not sure if its a kidnapping or the baby got lost on his own) but the wizard founded billy and trained him.

At the ripe age of (insert young age below a teenager's), The wizard decided to grant him the power of shazam to turn him into the world's mightiest Wizard!

Captain Marvel!

Wizard dies and then Billy and Tawny have adventures together, maybe helping people along the way (maybe somehow found out that Mary is his sister :p idk)

“ I think you could go angst if you made the wizard get brutally hurt in a battle to protect Billy and the rock of eternity so in a last ditch effort he transports the rock to its own pocket of existence and then giving Billy powers of shazam because its as ready as he'll be able to make the kid :) and it's his last effort for Billy to be protected even if he has to do so himself because he has failed :)) made Billy cry as Wizard turns into dust in Billy’s hands :)))”

—

Uncle marvel can be a con-man/thief who took pity on Billy or realiz, teaching Billy that the world isn't always honest and he's like, "Billy, don't always give money to the poor on the streets, sometimes they faked their illness to be lazy”

" Billy: "The man in the shadowy corner needs my help."

Uncle: "No, the hell he doesn't!”"

—-

How Billy Met Freddy

Billy probably met Freddy in a bar fight. How did the kid get into a bar?

Billy looked at the man exiting the pub with a bottle.

Billy: Ohh! So this is where you get refreshments here! I wonder If they have enough Milk for Tawny..

Pub sign written NO KIDS ALLOWED!"

*Billy can only read magic scrolls and not regular alphabet*

Cue him meeting Freddy (who's armwrestling with one of the people there)

(Insert Bar fight for some reason because The child decided to drink a white cocktail thinking it was milk and the fact that Billy is a Kid)

“Freddie is definitely that kid having his ass thrown out of the bar/pub/inn”

I'd like to think he and his brother are a team, prolly sailed a ship together.

“Yes, they target slave ships. Unless you wanna go different routes. Then, he is focused on certain nations' flags that have a whole lot of red in them

Also, he goes to the bars just to start bar fights over drunks being mean/nasty to the landlady. The landlady doesn't appreciate it bc now she has a broken table and four broken chairs”

Freddy faces the Captain Nazi equivalent of a pirate [Captain Arian? Like Aryan?] XD, Freddy lost his leg the same way, from his encounter with Captain Arian.

Kit (probably a necromancer or a ghost who's cursed to be bound in the ship Freddy's in, making Freddy more attached to the ship) can still summon crewmembers.

Maybe they both meet mary during the birthday ceremony parade

Maybe Mary snuck off from her family (disguise herself as a regular girl, i know, generic plot) and then meet Billy accidentally

Billy: It's my birthday today!

Mary: What a coincidence! It's mine too!

The-brash-spud: “Billy, in his innocence, thinks ,"There must be something to us sharing birthdays!" While Freddy calls him stupid, Billy tries to get a look at the princes and then cue the lung-fu panda rocket incident, but maybe something else more fitting with Freddy being pulled along”

On an unrelated note, i think Billy knew about Freddy's peg legafter either a pirate slashed it clean and Freddy just used it to bonk his head.

Billy is still screaming from the shock and immediately casted healing spells (i'd like to think everything about billy is lightning based- so yes getting struck by lightning is a healing spell for him :D) Freddy got shocked lmao

And what about boarding Tawny on the ship?

Billy:"Please???"

Freddy: "I'm not letting a tiger into my ship."

Kit who absolutely adores animals: "YES"

Freddy:"NO!”

Kit:" Does he love belly rubs??"

Billy:" yes but you have to ask him politely for his permission-”

Freddy rolled his eyes, realizing he has to clean cat fur everyday off from the furnitures.

___

How did Mary, a royalty tag along with a kid wizard and a pirate?

“Yeah, I guess forced separation would work better. Hell, go with a scenario that will allow them to have Mary with the parents' blessings as long as she's kept safe (she isn't, but that's because she is the danger herself)”

Mary and Billy: "Yay adventure"

Freddy: "Oh great, now I have to take care of two kids and a tiger in my ship!?"

*Freddy looking at Kit and the kids + a tiger playing together, kit seems happy*

Freddy: "...i guess it's alright..”

___

How Freddy and Mary found out about the wizard?

“Hmmmm, maybe Billy takes them to the rock because they were in a pickle, and unforeseen effects happen?

They got surrounded maybe?

Also I can see the aftermath

"You were raised by THE Wizard!? THE Wizard?! A Wizard of legends so often told he is recognisable even if his name was lost?!"

"Oh, his name is Shazam-" *BANG*”

____

Hopefully i could draw these AU ideas, I don't plan on making this into a story, i just like the concept that my dream gave my a few days ago and I’m just expanding it. Sorry for too many text xD

I don't mind if you want to add something to this silly lil AU, It's just a fun thing for me to do :p

[kuoukyeee]

Kanoh Agito sfw alphabet

Gender neutral reader (I hope🙏)

This has spoilers👻

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Before and during the tournament he would be more reserved with pda as he didn't know how to express himself and thought affection was a taboo thing. He deffo wasnt used to affection untill you came, the only touch he would've felt would have been during fights and also because not everyone would have the balls to hug this big, muscular, scary guy yk?

But after the tournament when he becomes a cool biker dude and he explores the world and finds himself and shit and has built up trust in you he would deffo be more welcoming towards affection and would initiate it more often. He would stand closer to you, touching shoulders/arms in public with you, if he's in a good mood he even places his hand on your lower back, especially if you are in a crowded/unknown place to make sure you won't get lost. If you go over board with the kisses and hugs I don't feel like he'd mind but he would deffo be taken aback and tell you to calm down if you're in a formal setting.

I feel like in private he'd deffo appreciate long hugs where you are both chest to chest and you can feel eachothers heartbeats, and soft kisses that make both of you melt into eachother and relax.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He would be one of those trustworthy friends, where you could meet up once a year but still be at the same point where you left off.

He would also be dense, you would have to explain lots of things to him eg slang (and how monsters dont exist). I also feel like you could rant to him about stuff. He wouldn't necessarily gossip with you, but would deffo give straight forward advice and an outsiders point of view.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I feel like when hes not busy he would indulge you , but otherwise he would pry you off (easily cus he stronk💪) even if ur complaining.

He likes when he puts his chin on top of your head and just koala hugs you, as he can feel your warmth and soft breaths, signaling to him that you are alive and safe, unconsciously calming him too.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Once he finds someone who he trusts and can tell his deepest secrets to, he would not hesitate to put a ring on it. Literally, the proposal is probably straight forward and he spills out all of his feelings towards you sincerely while you tear up.

Since he can literally make up a martial art on the spot to counter his opponent, I like to think he's a fast learner and would deffo not mind to lend a hand in daily chores, actually I think he would enjoy it as it makes him feel like a normal person after so many years of people stepping on eggshells around him because of his status as the fang.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would feel very conflicted and heartbroken. Especially if you guys dated for a long time and were very dedicated to eachother.

He would decide breaking up is the best for both of you and confront you, trying to explain to you logically that it is the best thing to do.

It would be so sad too😖, like one of those cowboy movies where the main lead says some romantic shit like "we were not destined to be together in this life" and kisses the romantic interest kunckles and then rides away on a horse ( in his case a motocycle) into the sunset and the romantic interest is just standing there tearing up, watching the figure dissappear, never to be seen again. Both always hoping to encounter eachother again, thinking about 'what ifs', even in old age.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I feel like he wouldn't run away from it, but he wouldn't actively pursue it either. Once he realises he loves you and cant live without you he would propose soon. ( cus he standing on business)

He would maybe marry after at least knowing someone for a good 4 or 5 years, since yk he cant trust any random aquaintance, as he was/is the fang of metsudo, he needs to be alert.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Emotionally- At the beginning, I think he's less considerate of other peoples opinions, so he would be straight forward with you, which can cause some arguments or you feeling belittled. However, he improves at communicating and sensing if somethings wrong. I also think he would come to realise that you would do things in his interest, like sacrificing something so it benefits him and he would realise that relationships are give and take, which helps with his attitude towards all of his relationships.

Physically- you are definitely weaker or slightly weaker than him. So he is very aware that he has to be careful with you, though some times you need to remind him, as before most physical touch he had was in fights where he could use all of his strength, so he can forget at times.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesnt LOVE hugs but he deffo appreciates and feels loved when you hug him. He might forget to hug you sometimes, but once he remembers 'oh shit I have an s/o and in relationships you need to do this kind of stuff' he would search for you and give you a hug.

His hugs would envelop you with warmth and genuine love. He cant really let his guard down and be very comfortable with others, so he learns to appreciate these little moments you guys have.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Once again, he's very dense. So he would forget to say lovey-dovey stuff, until he sees something on tv like a romantic movie, or someone teases him about your guys' relationship. He realises his mistake and tries to remember for the future, so he can drop the L bomb in a romantic setting.

He probably says I love you like half a year or more into dating.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesnt get jealous easy from lowkey comments made towards you, as he doesnt realise the intent behind them most of the time, so he brushes them off.

However if someone cat calls you or tries pulling any moves he does get relatively jealous only if it is a regular occurrence/ adds up over time.He grabs you close, makes sure the threat is away and then make sure you're okay. He might sulk for a bit, but if you reassure him he does calm down. He could never be sulky for too long as its not your fault.

HOWEVER if you do something to make him jealous, he would get cold towards you and he would no longer consider you to be trustworthy and would consider breaking up. Second guessing your relationship.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are heavy and rough if he guides them and he has slightly chapped lips. If you guide them he will go with your flow and let you take the lead.

He probably likes to kiss you on your shoulders or on your cheeks cus it feels intimate, idk.

He probably likes it when you kiss his jaw, i feel like it would make him melt.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's straight forward with them and a little distant with ones that aren't his own, not because he doesn't like them, but because i feel like he could only have a strong bond with his own. He wouldn't feel a duty to get involved with them if they weren't his.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Most of the time he's awake before you, just staring at you sleeping, once you wake up he hugs you closer , encouraging you to get out of bed after lazing about for a bit. He probably has no problem getting out of bed in the morning, so if you do he helps you do your morning routine. He might help you pick an outfit for the day, help you cook, brush his teeth with you, or even join you in the shower.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I feel like he sleeps like a log. You either sleep on his fat boobie or bicep and he just throws his arm over you. Or he traps you in bed with a bear hug. He probably has nightmares sometimes or has trouble sleeping.

O = Open  (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say  everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He has to trust you a lot in order to reveal things about his past. It probably takes him a few years to fully tell you everything as he doesn't want to scare you and push you away.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He seems quite collected, so it doesn't seem like he would argue about pointless things. He would only loose his cool if it was something serious like your safety etc.

Q = Quizzes  (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He would remember quite a lot as he listens more than he talks. However if he had something on his mind or was worried about something he can forget.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The scenic motorcycle rides with you and how much you enjoyed them.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He would be very protective over you and would show no mercy to anyone who harms you, or has intentions to. He would use his raw strength and let out his formless stance to eliminate the threat. I don't think he would need to be protected tbh, he can hold out on his own.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's very inexperienced in love, so he would need to put in quite a bit of effort in to special events. But for everyday tasks it flows easily for him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He might put his work as the fang as a higher importance than you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't really care, but i think he deffo knows he has a fit body. There's no way no fan of his in the kengan matches hasn't told him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. You are one of the only things which makes him feel normal and loved.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He melts when he feels your arms around his waist while he drives you around on his motorcycle.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He probably wouldn't like someone if they are not loyal.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He twitches in his sleep, which sometimes makes you wake up.

AHHHH this was so long to write 🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

[bullet-prooflove]

And my mind goes back to a girl I left some years ago

For a young John Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989

Companion piece to

Wild Bloom

A Boy from Bozeman

The Worry Doll

Wild Fire

Experiance (NSFW)

Blind Date

Fire Wood

Wedding Bells

It’s ten o’clock at night and John’s sitting on the porch of his son’s quiet farmhouse staring at the stars twinkling up in the night sky. He knows Lee’s not coming home tonight, that he’ll be celebrating with his bride somewhere off in the wilderness and as much as John wants to begrudge him he can’t. The truth is he’s a little envious because Lee, he’s just done the thing that John couldn’t do all those years ago, when he faced with his own set of choices.

Marriages in their family have always been based on connections and social status, one ranch bought into another, it’s how the Yellowstone expanded. It’s also the reason he married Everlyn instead of the woman he was really in love with, the one that could light up a whole room with her smile.

Lou Reeves could have outridden any of the men he worked with back then but her family was poor, they competed in races and rodeos to keep their farm afloat during the tougher seasons.

Lou isn’t a good match, his daddy had said when John told him he wanted to marry her. She doesn’t bring anything to the ranch.

Evelyn came with over 100,000 acres and a whole stable of championship horses so of course, she was his daddy’s choice, which made her John’s choice.

He ended up marrying her, starting a family and Lou, she went on to run her family’s farm, turning it into a thriving business that sold their produce in the local area and throughout Montana. He still sees her in town every so often and his heart, it skips a beat every single time.

Now as he sits on Lee’s porch, he wonders what would have happened if he’d been brave like his son, if he’d chased his own happiness instead of allowing himself to be pushed into the legacy of this god damned ranch.

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[thelordofhats]

Dullahan as Heathcliff’s EGO

There’s two parts to this post, more or less: the first is the in-setting evidence that this could be the case. Honestly, this is the less interesting part of this to me, but I think it’s important to lay out why I think it’s possible. The second is about what this tells us about Heathcliff as a character.

There’s Canto 6 spoilers, obviously, but this is also just going to be long enough that it’s just polite to insert a cut, so here we go.

Supporting Evidence

First up, we have seen, both with Philip in LoR and Dongrang in Canto 4 of Limbus Company, that the EGO a person manifests and what they look like as a Distortion are connected—they’re going to use the same visual language. The Crying Children still has the fire and statue theming of Philips unnamed incomplete EGO, and when Dongrang manages to undistort, Farmwatch has the same hat, horns, and, well, farm imagery that his distorted form had, just not as a weird monster this time.

Wild Hunt Heathcliff is not the exact same as Erlking Heathcliff. Besides the obvious fact that he’s waging his war on Wuthering Heights instead of Himself as a Concept, you have visual differences like the eyepatch, Wild Hunt having an Iron Maiden instead of a coffin, and most importantly, a different mount. Where Erlking’s Dullahan is a straight-up headless horse (I say, as though that is a normal thing), Wild Hunt’s Dullahan is, as best as we can tell without the head, some sort of wolf creature—clawed feet, a different tail, that sort of thing. Which is, as you’ve probably already guessed, reminiscent of Distorted Heathcliff. And I don’t think that that’s a change that Project Moon made for no reason.

The other big piece of supporting evidence is in Wild Hunt Heathcliff’s UT3 story (well, stories), in which he reflects a bit on the whole “commanding the dead” thing he’s got going on now. Specifically, the fact that it just sort of happened. He didn’t schedule an appointment with Dead Corp to get hooked up with their sweet necromancy tech, it was just a thing that he became able to do. Now, we *could* say this is some wholly unexplained thing, but come on. This is Project Moon. They do not toss out massive no-reason plot holes at us. Of the framework we’ve been given, EGO is the most logical explanation for how this happened. Especially when you consider how it lives up for him ~*~thematically~*~

(Oh, but before I move on to that—Bodysack, like all of the Base EGOs, is manifested with the help of Mephistopheles. I don’t think we should necessarily think of it as being in the same progression, although it does fit with the coffin/iron maiden)

Character Themes

Or: What does this tell us about Heathcliff?

Well, first I have to talk a bit about EGO in general. Hitting the ignition point, where you get the Carmen Chat, requires Desire and a Will to see those desires out. Non-capitalized ego, if you will. Philip’s desire to stop feeling inadequate, Xiao grief (I know this is a bad summary of Xiao but this isn’t a Xiao essay), Dongrang’s need for More (please refer to Xiao parenthetical, substitute Dongrang for Xiao). Manifesting EGO instead of distorting is about Self-Acceptance and Self-Control—Philip was keeping it together (sort of) until he started denying his inner drives to Oswald and pretending that that wasn’t something he felt. Xiao went “yes, I am being selfish and have selfish desires, but that doesn’t mean I have to be a bad person”. Dongrang stopped being “Dongrang, Who Denies All” when he admitted “You know what, I’m a selfish piece of shit, and I’m going to embrace being a selfish piece of shit”. EGO does *not* require you to be a good person!

For Heathcliff, that desire is, as you saw on his bat, REVENGE. He’s spent a lifetime hurting, and there is a part of him that he’s been storing up all of that hurt, holding onto it, and nurturing it into a Grudge. He wants so very, very badly to be able to hurt those who have hurt him. But it’s not the only desire within him—his love for Cathy is also a powerful motivator.

In Canti 6, faced with truly losing Cathy with absolute heartbreak, we see REVENGE become his only pillar. He desperately needs to take out this pain in *somebody*, and it doesn’t really matter who. He’s ready to give in to it all, lose control, and blindly lash out at his surroundings until Wuthering Heights is reduced to rubble around him. Possibly on top of him—he does not care. And so, he Distorts.

Wild Hunt Heathcliff has taken the reins of these impulses, instead of letting them drive him blindly. He wants to make those who hurt him suffer, but he does so with his eyes fully open, ready to be patient to maximize the pain he inflicts—maiming Gregor, the mountain of corpses in his wake, letting the Heights organize one last stand against him, a grand banquet. And it is through this self-mastery that he gains the means to make this suffering he inflicts last beyond the grave—to bind their souls in his service, so that even as they despise him and curse him, they are nonetheless bent to his will. He has manifested Dullahan.

To Wild Hunt Heathcliff, suffering is the base state of the world. Any moment of comfort, respite, or tenderness is ephemeral, a momentary shelter against the rain that will inevitably be lost. He has rejected Cathy’s love entirely, not because he does not love her, but because he does not believe in love as being a solid, real thing. Not like hatred is. Hatred is forever. You can *rely* on hatred. And if you are able to find satisfaction in being hated, to drink deeply from that spiteful well, you’ll never go thirsty. No, you’ll live in a veritable land of plenty. A miserable, bitter land of plenty, and you’re going to be a miserable and bitter fuck, but at least you’ll have the satisfaction that the people who hate you died mad and continue to be mad. That’s the core of Dullahan,

The third act swerve of this essay is that I do not think that our Heathcliff is going to be able to manifest Dullahan, because he isn’t that person anymore—the path that leads there has been closed to him. Hindley and Linton are dead, and he has bigger concerns right now—the bat no longer says Revenge, it says Remember. The revenge pillar is the one that crumbled, so he is—unsteadily—driven more by his love for Cathy right now. If he continues in this path, his EGO (and come on, we *will* get to see the full EGO for everyone eventually) is going to be something else entirely. Some similar motifs, of course, but taken in a new direction. Hopefully a healthier one!

And I think that’s really neat!

[pitchblackespresso]

Everything from BOTW had so much clear intent in it's design. Nothing felt random. Even for something as simple as chests everywhere, you could think "This was abandoned or lost by people running from the Calamity" it it would work.

TOTK, nothing made much sense. Why the fuck is the Hero of the Wild outfit, that Sheikah monks made and awarded to me specifically in the last game, buried in the fucking Depths? What is anything that's down there DOING there? Why are there these weird outcroppings on the cliffs in the surface, like Zonai rocks that somehow morphed into the landscape?

I can't tell you how deflating it was to return to that beautiful map to see that it's been littered with Zonai junk piles and those ugly chasms, that the Plateau was even more destroyed seeming. And obvious places for expansion, like actually going into the Citadel, were totally ignored.

There was almost no real emotional or intellectual reward for exploring at all. My favorite part of the game was The Great Sky Island, because it was all new and interesting. What's it say that the best part of the game is the tutorial? Which, oddly enough, was the reverse of my experience with BOTW.

You see, part of me agrees because there are a lot of dubious design choices (like the aforementioned Zonai junk piles, what an apt description), but another part clings onto the love I have for this game despite its numerous flaws.

For every nonsensical design, we also have choices that show how much love and care went into crafting a totk-Hyrule that felt familiar, but still distinct from botw. The caves are a perfect expansion and reward exploration with Misko's rare clothing items. The game remembers your horses and Champions' portrait from botw. Zelda's flower garden has silent princesses in it, fulfilling her old dream of domesticating them. Putting on the Yiga outfit in Gerudo Town sends you to prison. There's a royal claymore by King Rhoam's grave (his main weapon in AoC). The golden horse is already bonded to Link because he canonically travelled with Zelda and so spent a lot of time with the horse already. The nostalgic paraglider fabric is in the exact location in the Temple of Time where you first get the paraglider in botw. NPCs have character arc between games, like the groom in Rito Village leaving his toxic wife and getting in a (slightly) better relationship, or the terrible junkyard cook in Gerudo Canyon learning to cook with Monster Extract. Zelda's dropped torch is found at the bottom of the chasm. Mipha's Court wordlessly shows the journey of the Zora letting go of Mipha, but never forgetting her, by instead moving her statue to the former territory of a lynel that terrorized the Domain. Cheese.

Those are the details that I cling to when I think about totk, the ones I revisit the game for. That make it easy to ignore the piles of Zonai junk while I'm horseback travelling across Hyrule Field and instead look at the mounds of building materials that, yes, are there for the player to use, but are also part of the Hyrule Restoration Project, reminding you that this Hyrule is young and healing after a century of torment. Everyone's got an example of a detail in totk that I'm sure made them smile, and I like to think that those matter just as much as randomly retconning Typhlo Ruins all about almighty Rauru.

And if nothing else, we have suavemente Ganondorf

[scorpioriesling]

Unsettled (pt. 1)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: None, actually hahahaha (yet, just you wait)

Warnings: None!

Summary: You go to Tamlin’s estate to make a delivery but instead, run into someone else. The unexpected happens and you’re left feeling… unsettled.

SR’s Note: I’m actually really liking where this is going, will probably have multiple parts!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

For those who dwell in courts outside that of the Spring court, the first thing you'd learn to get used to is the pollen. Amid the pleasantries that the court offered -- the aromas of the peonies in the spring season, the florals always in bloom, the billowing gardens across the lands -- one thing that a non-native might learn to get used to is all of the pollen invading your senses, especially in the springtime.

It wouldn't help that the pollen was always being stirred up, never settling too long. There was always something happening, something to do, or something to be done in the Spring court, which caused a lot of hustle and bustle for those who dwelled in and around the estate of the High Lord and his few trustees.

You'd been near the estate a few times; one time in particular, you actually entered the grounds. You'd only gone to deliver floral arrangements before Calanmai, a courtesy of your parent's shop in the court's square. It was the last stop on your route, and one that you had saved for last on purpose.

"Go to the estate first", your mother told you earlier that morning, as she secured the last of the floral arrangements in the small cart being towed by the proud, white mare before you. "We want Lord Tamlin receiving the freshest flowers from our shop; you can stop by the rest of the families on your way back." You nodded, slinging a leg over your horse, and preparing for the ride to the "estate", knowing you'd venture to every other home before arriving at those massive, iron gates.

But here you are. The gates before you, the yellow pollen wafting by in the breeze and infiltrating your nose. It almost makes you sneeze, but you hold back, and instead awkwardly raise a fist to... knock? Within seconds, the gates slowly drift open, the iron creaking as they beckon you in.

The pale stones clop clop clop under your horse's hooves, the sound steady and unmatched to the racing of your heart. Before you know it, you are on the staircase to the estate, and you feel as though you weigh the amount of a piano as you force yourself off your mare once more.

One step. Two. Three. Fifteen. You're almost to the top of the staircase, a floral wreath in one hand and a vase of peonies in the other. You have seen Tamlin before, of course; but have you spoken to him? What if you seem a fool? He is a High Lord. You curse your mother under your breath for making you come out here alone and deliver these. You also notice the lack of spring breeze, as a drop of sweat slides down the back of your neck beneath your braid and rolls below the collar of your blouse. It feels as if even the folds of your flowing skirt are sticking to your legs-

"How did you get past the front gate?"

You freeze, no breeze needed to feel the ice filling your veins. The firm voice sounded from behind you, but all you can do is stand perfectly still, too scared to turn around. What if it is Tamlin? What if he is angry with you for entering his home without permission?

Whoever is behind you huffs a laugh and speaks again. "You cannot make me believe you are a statue now; I've already seen you moving just moments ago."

Your brows narrow, and you shake your head, glancing down at the vase in your hand. Does this guy think you're an idiot? Obviously, you're a real person... you won't have any of this.

You turn on the ball of your foot, your boot scuffing on the stone stair beneath. Dramatically, the skirt that was not stuck to your legs whooshes around you too, and you finally get a good look at whoever is interrogating and ridiculing you.

You almost wish you had pretended to be a statue.

A tall, tanned-skin man with flaming red locks is peering up at you from the first step, arms crossed across his broad chest. The emerald green tunic he is sporting is a stark contrast to the copper strands, making them stand out even more. What also stands out is the pointed ears protruding slightly beyond those luscious locks. He is High Fae.

You know what you should do, what you’d do in the presence of any High Fae: bow, apologize, explain yourself. Any of the above? All of the above? But... instead, you begin your descent down the stairs. Water sloshes out of the vase you're holding, but you don't care.

One step. Two. Five.

You're stomping now, face heating in anger with each step you take.

Ten. Fourteen.

You come face to face with the High Fae male who you're ready to berate, but when you come to the bottom step, you're close enough to take him in more up close. One of his eyes is of russet, but gleaming with flecks of amber in hues that complement his hair. The other is golden and mechanical, a scar running from above his eyebrow through it and down to his cheekbone. A light scruff dusts the lower half of his face, and as you draw nearer, he only scowls more at you.

"Maybe you didn't hear me the first time, so I'll ask you again -- How. Did. You. Get. Past. The front. Gate?" He punctuates each word as if he is speaking to a child, which only causes your disdain to return. Finally, you open your mouth to speak.

"Maybe I should ask you the same thing. This is the High Lord's manor, isn't it? And you aren't him." His frown turns into a snort, and he shakes his head at you. You don't allow his reaction to rattle you; you keep your stare firm.

"Glad to know you can speak," he begins. He steps off the first step, walking backwards and gesturing to the estate. "...and that you are aware who Tamlin is! Bravo." He bows at the waist in mockery, and you allow a small growl to escape your throat. He only chuckles in response, straightening and flicking his gaze back to you, seeming to only just notice the wreath and vase you are holding.

"What's with the romantic gesture? Planning to ask him for an evening with you?" He taunts. You take the last step down, your feet finally landing on the ground again. It isn't only your feet that land on the ground, but you feel grounded again inside. The red hair. The cocky attitude. The familiar ambience. Why couldn't you see it before? He is one of the Vanserra boys. He's practically screaming Beron. Anything to do with the Autumn court or that family, you want none of.

You bring yourself out of your thoughts, and back to reality. One foot in front of another, you walk right up to him, so close you can see every speck of pollen on his tunic. It has all settled atop the green fabric.

You shove the vase and wreath into his chest, catching him off guard. A few of the slightly wilted peony petals flutter to the ground, and the pollen on his jacket scatters up into the air around you. He takes a half step back to steady himself, eyes widening down at you. His mouth opens, a stunned look on his face, but before you let him spew anymore bullshit, you speak first.

"I don't need to bring flowers to anybody who has someone like you already living with them." You flash him a sarcastic smile and shrug your shoulders. Since the beginning of the interaction, he doesn't bark a retort or bite back at you. He just stands there, gawking at you.

The small feeling of victory against this newfound stranger swells inside as you stride over to your horse, tossing your braid over your shoulder and hopping up on it. You don't even spare a look back as you begin riding to the front of the grounds, though you want to. You want to see the smug look on that Vanserra's face; him standing there, finally looking silly after poking at you — someone he didn't even know! He is High Fae too … what a bad rap to start for someone of that stature, and from that lineage.

You might not have minded looking at him a bit longer, though. It was true that the arrogance was off-putting, but you had to admit, whoever he was, he was quite beautiful. Even with a stuffy pollen-covered tunic, he didn't look quite like anyone you'd ever seen before. He looked so, so much better.

The quiet, low pulling deep in your chest felt unsettling as you rode home in the afternoon sun. Why, and how could someone with such an attitude have such an effect on you? Because he was, what… attractive? It didn't matter, you'd get over it soon enough. You'd likely never see him again. You had no intent of visiting the estate ever again.

Yet, that feeling, the low and deep tugging, didn't subside.

✧･ﾟ: *

Part 2

[phatkochi]

About those Steven HCs… 👀

Lol it took me a while to reread and check everything cause I'm anxious if I ever have the need to add or get rid of any points XD But I hope this'll be fine!!!

Steven Rudboys headcanons 🛩️💚

. Black Hispanic

. Has a southern accent but he can speak a bit of spanish

. Has an eagle tattoo

. Owns & rides a bike

. Great friends with Francis (since they were kids but they low-key have a frenemy like dynamic)

. Has lots of pilot friends & goes biking with them (whenever he gets the chance, he also loves to go cross country with them :] )

. Likes to hangout at bars

. His room is filled with pilot stuff (no shit LMAO)

. Whenever his hair is growing back, he would usually shave it off himself but sometimes he allows Francis to do it

. Loves rock (50's rock)

. His favourite animals are horses

. GAY

. Actually really smart

. Frenemies with Dr. W. Afton (but unlike Francis, they lean more on the enemy side 😭)

. Has an older sister & nephew

. Parents are divorced, but remain in a good platonic relationship. In fact, his mom owns a shop near by the apartment and visits sometimes

. Has a soft spot for The Mikaelys cause they remind him of his sister who's also a single mother

. Pretty chill and cool but he has his silly moments

. Lives with Mclooy so he can take care of him at his old age (but I think this is a pretty common concept within the fandom lol)

. Despite that, there are times where he's away from the apartment for a period of time cause of his pilot status so that explains why he's a rare neighbour to encounter in the game (is he considered a rare neighbour??? He is for me LMAOUFJDKFS)

. He has a collection of challenge coins after his service in the army

. Mid 30s (same age as Francis basically)

Ok I hope all of these make sense!!! DX Also some of these are based after my own experience of having soldiers as parents so I hope it can be as accurate as possible! (Though, I'm not really familiar with how the American military works lol, especially in the 50s @_@). But still, I hope this doesn't mischaracterize Steven in any way :') (even though he has little to no personality in the game so far IGNDKDJSJZ hoping for story mode real soon 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻)

[creedslove]

Hello baby!

What if our favorite cowboy organizes a date with his sugar, the man literally prepares everything alone or the best he can. He organizes everything in his ranch.

It was the first time he was so excited to receive her, prepared a meal, get ready, once he finally picked her up, he was like:

"Hell, sugar... you look so goddamn precious!"

Whisky being literally being a pleaser to his sugar, he teached her how to ride one of his favourites horses, his home, he doesn't know what else to do for her.

I hope you feel much better! I send you a big hug! ✨

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

A/N: hi bestie!!! I love this so so so so much, this is such Agent Whiskey coded because he is a people's pleasure, and above all, he's a sugar pleaser, which means he'll please his sugar until the day he dies

• Whiskey is the king of date: he never lacks ideas, plans or any other thing to take his sugar on a date, he's got a wide range of creativity and money that helps a lot, so it's just a matter of picking up the mood for the day not to overdo himself

• he's definitely the kind of man who would drive you across town just so you can grab that one pie you had when you were PMSing years ago and you never forgot, or he would book you tickets for a weekend getaway if you complain about stress at work and stuff like that

• but even if he's great at pleasing, he's still a romantic at heart, so the best kinds of dates in his opinion, are the ranch dates, because he loves his ranch, it's a huge part of who he is, at his ranch, he's not just the tacky cowboy who talks funny and isn't afraid to pick a fight at places, but instead, he's himself, not Whiskey, just Jack, with his beautiful green fields, his horses, his simple life and his southern manners

• so you can expect a real weekend, because the cowboy isn't just going to invite you for a day, you're going to at least spend the night, have the whole ranch experience, all you gotta do is to say yes to it and he'll make it happen

• and he's a gentleman, let's not forget about that, so even if you insist you can drive to his ranch, chances are you aren't because he'll make sure to pick you up with his Bronco, he just wants you to take on a ride in it because he loves that car, it's pretty, comfortable, it's got status, and he's excited to be seen driving around with you in the passenger seat, just as he's excited to see you wearing your cute sunglasses as your hair flies loose at the window

• that if he doesn't gift you a cowboy hat the minute he picks you up, because yeah, he is gonna buy you a stetson, he just doesn't know when he's gonna give it to you, so why not in the beginning of the adventure, anyway?!

• and let me tell you: that cowboy's ranch is simply gorgeous! He will be so proud and happy to show you around, knowing exactly where to take you and what to do with you there, giving you a tour through the main house that's big and comfortable af obviously and then taking you to the stables so you can see the animals and play with them and all of them

• now, hear me: he loves horses, he's been riding them forever so if you know how to ride them, he will be glad to do so with your company, but if you don't, Jack will be thrilled to teach you from the very beginning, from how to actually get on the horse, to where to hold it and gentle guide it until you are feeling safe

• if the weather is hot enough, you can also expect him to take you swimming out at the lake, because let's face it: do you think Jack Daniels didn't grow up swimming in those waters around the ranch? He knows all the nice and pretty spots to take girls by the way, and you won't be different at all

• in the evening, you can expect him to throw a barbecue or just smoke some meat, but the thing is: it's gonna be outside, it's dark, warm and the lights will be on, making the ranch look so nice, although it's a little bit empty too, but it's a good thing since it's just the two of you spending time together; he'll serve you appetizers, the main dish, and the best liquor Statesman is capable of producing

• and yeah, he will roast marshmallows by the fire and tell you ghost stories about that land as if you two were in a summer camp together, and even if you know there's a big fat chance he's lying, you will still feel slight shivers down your spine and you will cling to him just a little bit tighter once the howling wind blows

• but once you two get back inside, it's sweet sweet love making with a sugar coated cowboy, where you can't have enough of him and he can't get enough of you, loving your body all night long and of course he'll greet you in the morning with breakfast in bed because he's a romantic at heart

• so chances are, you're gonna spend the morning in bed, enjoying the big breakfast and the cowboy's sugar and in the afternoon, he's definitely taking you for a picnic, with everything you're entitled to: a beautiful basket, a nice plaid towel, mini sandwiches and cake, all he wants is to spoil you

• watching the sunset together as you enjoy this romantic time is great, but as soon as the sun sets, he's gonna give you puppy eyes, asking you to stay the night once more, not ready to let you go home just yet 🥺❤️

____