#even though they're explicitly not

[diezmil10000]

The Tender Flesh

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

something something au where recently divorced but still extremely closeted trent walks into a bar owned by beard and frequently bartended by ted

[gingermintpepper]

Obsessed with the way Evadne's relationship with Apollo is described. Obsessed with the way Apollo was especially gentle with her because she was sheltered, hidden away and hadn't had any sort of experience with love prior to Apollo (and due to it being described as her 'first learning Aphrodite's joy' through Apollo', it was probably her first time even being attracted to someone). Obsessed with the way when she runs away, she stops in a violet patch to give birth. Y'know, violets, very famously the flower so strongly associated with Aphrodite that they were used in love potions? Those violets. Obsessed with the way that when Apollo realised his lover was going to have to deliver their child alone, he sent BOTH the goddess of childbirth and ALL THREE OF THE FATES to help and support her. Obsessed with the way that Apollo sends snakes to feed his baby honey straight from their fangs because Evadne abandons their son out of straight primal fear when her stepfather finds her and how the description of that honey is 'sweet venom' [ἰός] of the bees and is DEFINITELY a poetic pair/pun with [ἴον] aka violets and that every single thing about this relationship, conception and birth is a complete and utter fairytale down to Evadne's insanely overprotective stepfather having an immediate change of heart when he learned Evadne's child was an actual, legitimate Son of Apollo and the babe, after being cared for by his dad's honey-fanged snake buddies, was found perfectly healthy five days later swaddled in a blanket of violets (y'know the flowers so strongly associated with Aphrodite that they were used for lo-) and they called him Iamus aka Boy of the Violets which is AAAAAARRRR I AM GNAWING AT MY ENCLOSURE

Iamus was made of love. Everything about him was surrounded by deep and profound love and like, let's not even talk about his whole Thing of when he came of age and was like "I need to find out what my purpose is" and he literally had a Disney Protagonist moment where he ran out into the wilds and was like "Father!! Grandfather!! Tell me what I'm supposed to doooo!!" and then APOLLO FUCKING ANSWERED AND LED HIM TO ONE HIS TEMPLES ENTIRELY BY TALKING WITH IAMUS AND LETTING HIM FOLLOW HIS VOICE FOR THE WHOLE JOURNEY LIKE -

What do y'all know about the kind of SSS tier romantic escapades Apollo had fr?

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID: an 11 panel comic featuring characters from the owl house. Panel 1- a cloaked Darius sneaking around a wall. panel 2 he peaks around the corner, saying "well? Did you retrieve...the package?". Panel 3 Hettie Cutburn (who has old Hollywood style text announcing "surprise Hettie Cutburn!" next to her) says "Darius! Of course! Took some digging but I found them eventually. Tell the boy I say 'hi!'". Panel four- she hands documents labeled "classified" to Darius. Later, Hunter (post timeskip) walks through a door in Darius' home, saying "hey Darius, hey Eber, I'm ba-". Next panel- Darius, Willow, and Eberwolf on the couch. Hunter says "...willow?", She replies "hey hunter!", he asks "what are you guys doing?

Darius says "oh nothing...except looking at pictures of you as a baby!" Holding up the documents from earlier. We see two pictures of a younger hunter framed like panels- the first is of hunter as a baby/toddler aged hunter freshly sprouted out of the ground with a blanket around him, covered in dirt, while the second one shows a young scout Hunter covered in bandages receiving his sprig plushie. Darius' narration reads "courtesy of Hettie Cutburn- she found the only surviving copy of your early life medical records and gave them to me". Willow says "aww, you were so cute!". The final panel shows Hunter looking embarrassed/stunned as Willow takes a photo of the documents, and Darius says "I'm considering it an early father's day present- so, thank you, Hunter". End ID]

MERRY DADRIUS WEEK!!! Thank you to @sergeantsporks for hosting! There's other prompts I wanna do but they'll probably be late (maybe I'll do them in bulk and upload them on the final day). Til then here's a silly comic!

[widowshill]

the people aren't ready to hear this but angelique arbitrarily picking quentin to decide to be in love with out of nowhere, bewitching roger into marriage and then absolutely not wanting him to touch her, and constantly pursuing men's (chiefly barn's) attention only when it's clear he doesn't want her, is soooo comp het of her.

[thepoisonroom]

hate when i see a post about lesbianism and i search 'trans' and 'gender' on op's blog and there's no results which could mean nothing. but could also mean what i think it means.

[swiiivet-screamathon]

"I'm really glad you both we're willing to actually sit down with me this evening."

"What do you want" -unanimously

"chuckle Well, it's been quite a while that Shadow has been here, I suppose I might've just wanted a review on how it's been whilst you're both present."

"They're a sack of shit. :)"

"And he's a bucket of balls. :D"

"Take that as quite well then? ^^"

"We've been working on this thing--"

"Do I want that to be public knowledge yet--"

"If you're worried I'll share, I assure you I won't tell a soul."

"You know exactly what I'll do to ya if you lie to me again."

"Of course. :)"

"Cool awesome-- Yes I've been working on this thing, Milky here doesn't like going outside too much, even though he's almost certainly regained all of his powers, sitting around with the two of us is where he's most comfortable."

"Your flattering descriptions could use some work."

"Sooo I'm working on a new wafflebot for Mr Milkman here-- Lemme-- go get it--"

"If you dare call me Milkman man you will not see the light again."

"I will not then, Shadow. If I may be curious though, why does Crepe get to say it?"

"Because they haven't crumbled my poor jelly heart into paste before."

"Is the souljam still on your mind?"

"Of course it is--!... I may have realized though, out of all possible options, I didn't get the worst half of a cookie to hold onto it for now, whilst I seize the opportunity another day."

"Of course. :p Is Hollyberry the worst?"

"Fuck her! Yowch, how does Sugar manage--"

Laughter

"Got him! This guy right here, my Blueberry Wafflebot, designed to be remote controlled from anywhere and everywhere--"

"--So that you can explore the world without leaving the kingdom?"

"I wouldn't call it exploring, there's nothing out there I would want to find-"

"^^"

"-but it does mean I don't have to put in as much effort whenever any of you pesky buggers thinks the Beast of Lies can get them out of their magic homework without payment."

"And here I thought the Beast of Lies liked putting on a show every chance they got?"

"Well, the Beast of Lies also needs time to write the story, very little of my plays are improv you know. A good lie requires thought and planning to write a cohesive, believable plot! Improv may have the chance to be entertaining, and does have it's appropriate uses in the telling of a lie, but it ends up with so many holes and errors after just a few moments if you're not careful. I don't like to rely on it if I can afford to spend time on my craft."

"I see, is Blueberry then going to be the one acting on stage then once your next concoction is finished?"

"Perhaps in my redemption arc I caused our dear Vanilly to fall into villainy-- How could you say something so cruel to my face?!"

[kumakuma-circus]

you ever think about how if it was a straight relationship then yukichie would definitely be canon or at least heavily implied given shadow yukiko calling chie her prince cuz i realized that earlier-

[azems-familiar]

i wrote more of that elidibus scene today. whoops. it is now 3.5k words long. i'm suffering. have another small snippet:

Lelesu lets out a long breath, and the noise seems to catch Elidibus’s attention; he opens his eyes again, focuses his attention on her. And he seems less intending to draw up his glyph and proclaim their enmity with sarcastic comments and leave, at the moment, so she asks the question. “We’ve been to Anamnesis Anyder - the ruins of it. In it we found records left behind by the faction that summoned Hydaelyn…they said Elidibus sacrificed himself to become the heart of Zodiark. Was that…you? Are you still the man you were?”

Elidibus tenses, but he does not make to exchange blows with her, which is a relief. “I am Elidibus,” he says, with the cadence of an oft-tread mantra, as though the words themselves can be a shield against the static she’d seen in his memories. “It is my name and my duty, and I will never stray from it.” He lets the words hang in the air for a moment - and then lets out a very small sigh, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes, it was I, though your understanding of events is lacking. I gave myself to be Lord Zodiark’s heart that my people might know salvation…only I could make the decision. For it is my duty to guide the star on its course, and Lord Zodiark…is merely an extension of that duty.”

“Your duty,” Lelesu murmurs, and swallows hard. It- aches, for some reason, something she can’t define. “Did you not give yourself a choice?”

“Look at me, Warrior of Darkness, and tell me true: would you?”

And really, there’s only one answer to that question, is there?

She thinks he reads her response on her face, because he nods once, and he looks entirely resolute. “You understand, then, that I will strike you down - destroy you body and soul. I must. For what you have done to my brethren, to their lives and their service to the one true world, death is the only fitting consequence.”

“...I understand,” she answers, and she does. “I wish there was another way. That we could’ve found…some other solution. But I do understand.”

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 8

Majora('s Mask)

*throws bouquet of roses* For the Time lovers.

Also my bias is probably coming through really strongly right now, but I'm not well rested enough to care plus I've been playing Majora's Mask a lot again this month, it's as important to me as Twilight Princess so this is kind of my love letter to it and Time and my excuse to explore the concept of Majora and the Fierce Deity and divinity in LoZ, though that's an essay for another day lol (/j)

As always can be read as romantic or platonic depending on your preferences, Reader is gender neutral and this is definitely self indulgent so it can be read in or outside of an LU context, most of the references to the LU names are for simplicity and to give a rough idea of why Reader has some stuff they do. Makes it easier to clarify lol, though as I've been hit by yet another storm the Linktober prompt will be for tomorrow, I'm basically picking a god and praying this actually posts X_X

TW(?):

Don't think there's any warnings besides MJM's typical body horror really, and very graphic descriptions and Majora in general.

Even after so, so long, so much so it feels like a lifetime ago, Termina still stuck with you and Time.

The thing about being in a timeloop that went on for who knows how long and whose failure to reset it would be total destruction to so many good different people, is that you quickly learn some habits to try and maximize as many successes as possible, how Time (Mask, then, after the living nightmare of Termina, during the War of Ages, still Link though) quickly learned the location of each enemy he could, how you learned to call out the best way to quickly assess and take down an enemy as quickly as possible, how you both learned to watch each other’s backs and to care for the people and Termina to the point Link went from just a warrior to a healer, granted the trust of holding the crystalization of the hopes and dreams of the people of Termina that, even if they couldn’t remember it, wanted the cycle to end, wanted to hunt the threat to reality itself and purge it from the world. To bite down onto it’s neck and feel the thrill and glee and cutting down such an opponent.

Most importantly, after bleeding, crying, sweating and toiling against the unrelenting flow of time and insanity all brought upon by a lonely child being left alone and manipulated to commit heinous acts as ‘pranks’. It taught you and Time the importance of contingency plans, and about always, always being prepared for any and all situations, unlikely as they could be. Of taking through note of even the smallest detail that caught your eyes at a glance.

‘To defeat an abomination, you need one of two things: A deity, or a monster.’, you think cynically to yourself, stepping over Time’s fallen form as Warriors bolted over with blizzard forged fury in his cold, calculated movements to defend him in your stead as you called Hyrule over, the young man quickly starting to heal your Hero as you glare down at the disgusting stain on reality engaging Twilight and Wild all at once, gleeful at having watched the person you adored the most fall, bringing out the ultimate contingency from your cloak, you hadn’t even told him about it, because you prayed you’d never need to resort to this, ‘… Forgive me, Link. The first option isn’t doable here.’

Time was your everything, you knew how his story ended, with so much grief until he finally met Twilight again. You tried, you really did, to not allow yourself to love him but it was impossible because he was Link, the man who longed for adventure ever since he was young, embodying the freedom of the forest of life and death that made up the whole of Faron Woods and the Lost Woods and as steady as it’s moors, voice quiet and calm like a stream in the woods and with and with a smile to rival the warm sun and so, so heartbreakingly kind. Who protected and saved and healed people while slowly healing his own soul and who attempted to soothe his descendant’s pain the second he could even from beyond the grave.

And you’d be darned if you allowed anything to take him from you or the boys before his time without a fight. You couldn’t care less if he would eventually die as he was destined to in every timeline, it didn’t matter if it was futile, because he mattered, you loved him, and you’d keep him safe and happy for as long as you could.

It didn’t matter if one day tragedy will catch up to him, it mattered that he was loved while alive.

Even if you had to step on fire to make sure of it.

“Twilight, Wild. Step away.”, the edges of the spikes of the purple and crimson mask that haunted your nightmares as much as it did Time’s, it leered at you with it’s arsenic and pus eyes, picking apart at your weaknesses as it’s spikes dug into your hand as you tightened your grip to keep if from shaking. Tone falsely confident as you called to the Hero of Twilight and Wild to retreat.

(‘To defeat an abomination, you need a deity or a monster.’

The definition is awfully interchangeable, if you look at it.

You had found it, abandoned and in a dungeon Wind’s Era, not quite awake, but not asleep either. The eldritch hunger almost chocking you with it’s voracity, the darkness assessing, stalking, prowling and starving, it prodded at you but didn’t dig yet. It knew how to play the long game in it’s quest to stop feeling empty.

Funny thing is, so did you. You were a lot harder to break than the Skull Kid, would not break.

Majora wanted to cease, like how it had ceased before the Terminan Tribe ripped it from it’s slumber, taught it hunger, taught it cruelty, taught it how to manipulate and take amusement in consuming the wishes of mortals and their very souls only to never be satisfied. Had fueled it with wrath from being ripped from a lovely, endless dream of beautiful songs and a kind soul. To be torn from it’s fantasy and then left to rot.

You offered to grant it a proper rest. And so a deal was struck. Your one contingency if the situation was truly dire, in case you couldn’t get the Fierce Deity Mask instead -because you knew how Link was, he’d burn himself out until there was naught but ash. You refused to let it ever come to that, after his excruciating screams of pain had clawed an aching, hurtful place into your very soul-, and Majora was starving and desperate, a dangerous combination for any being but something you could use.

So be it, if to protect divinity you needed to become a monstrosity, a monster was what you’d be.

You’d keep him safe. And you knew that if the Fierce Deity put him down once, he could do it again in case you slipped. Between him and Sky you weren’t afraid at all of the risk.

Even if Time never forgave you for taking it.)

You smile bitterly, tearing up in spite of yourself as you see the second Time spots you and the cursed artifact in hand, eye wide, voice ripping from his throat in desperation, “I’m quite selfish, I’m sorry.”

His haunted expression cuts you deeper than any knife, as you knew it was an image that featured in many of your nightmares and his own. But you’re insatiable for his happiness, so you take the plunge.

“NO NO NO NO DON’T-“

You put on the mask, and you scream.

It’s like stepping on fire, a twisted, desperate tune, a note of discord, a belt of harmony and fury and most importantly, the mighty need to consume the one who had tried to take the one you loved away from you.

Defy death, defy entropy, defy chaos, defy flame and voracity.

You cling to your self control with a snarl, howling in defiance. Sinking your nails into the abyss’ throat and biting, tearing, holding, tasting rot and withered flowers and the writhing of shadows and the blood of distorted gluttonousdivinity on your tongue with savagery equal to the way the demon sinks it's spikes onto you. Chew on it’s tender, rotting flesh, quaff down the lukewarm pus of it’s heart and the rust of blood as it bites off your skin, stripping your mind into chunks as it nests into your ribs like the spikes of wild, dead roses when it finds your mind tougher to break and you BURN YOU ARE LIFE YOU ARE CHAOS AND YOU ARE DROWNING AND YOU ARE FLAME-

You move, and Majora’s laugh sounds like a scream and a song as reality howls.

Your bones, sinew, muscles, nerves, veins and teeth are reformed, the being pounces, dancing, swerving, whipping, cleaving, ripping and feeding into the monsters with putrid, revolting gusto. Whenever it’s attention even tries to waver towards the Heroes you sink your hold in harder, stubborn, you’re sure there’s blood dripping from your mouth beneath the mask, your eyes, your ears, as it reaches a crescendo of glee and pain. A human body isn’t meant to hold so much divinity at once, much less as wretched and horrific as Majora’s, but you don’t care, can’t care, when you’re holding onto yourself like a vice, refusing to give it even a single inch.

It doesn’t kill Dark Link, the bastard (the one who’d hurt Time, the one who would have finished him off if not for you and Warriors). But the screech the Shadow releases as it gets ripped to shreds and the ripple of it’s retreating form is enough to make you partially agree with Majora’s vicious, amused glee that it was satisfying. Even if the feeling of you allowing it to utilize your skin temporarily felt revolting and disgusting in a way it made you wish you were actually on fire, not just in so much pain in a metaphysical level that it sure rivaled being set on fire, frost burned and lightning struck all in one go.

All is still now, all is silent.

Now comes the difficult part.

'Are you quite sure?', whispers Majora, crooning like nails on chalkboards, and it’s spikes sink into you tighter when you grip the sides of it, teeth gritted as you start prying it out of your face, amused by your defiance, but no longer as hungry. You did allow it quite the meal, you bet nothing like fellow divinity tastes better to the being, like the taste of a forbidden fruit you were going to be unfortunately acquainted given you’re sure Dark Link’s blood is on your teeth.

'Yes.' comes your faint response, as your sanity frays in fragile threads, you think someone calls your name, but you are drowning, you are burning, and you know that if you don’t focus it will break you. And you’d be fully dead before you let that happen. If you’re going to die you’re going to die as a human.

'Tou are so, so cold… So cruel.' It drawls, the demon’s voice like the gnawing of rats, like maggots under you skin, you convulse, falling to your knees with a wounded keen and pull harder, you barely noticed someone falling by your side, frantically calling your name, but the mask’s eyes dim to an outsider’s perspective, resigned as it hums dreamily, 'I suppose that��s why The Divine Hunter cares for you so, why it’s vessel’s claim is so strong.'

Good, you were banking on it being sleepy, after gorging yourself on the enemy of your boys, Hylia’s gash and Din’s assets your mouth is going to taste putrid for months isn’t it?

Majora hisses, growls, howls and screeches, a brush against your essence as it retreats. Unwinding from every single cell of your body, distorting your atoms back to their proper shape. It still hurts, buy it’s more bearable, although you quickly notice you’re chocking on a different form of Divinity, more possessive, more wild but just as old and ferocious as it snaps at the retreating heels of the twisted, chaotic thorns. Making reality remember your own shape quicker at the cost of filling every crack consumed by the demon.

You swear that thing is smiling smugly at something else, teeth bared and very entertained, taking the suffering of the people of Termina and the cold revulsion in your veins with it as it retreats with it's cacaphony of voices to the shade, 'A shame. Feasting more would be delightful, but very well. We trust that though you hurt today, tomorrow you’ll make sure we head on our way.'

You don’t have the mind or heart to say anything else to it, for it grows silent as the spikes rip from the sides of your face, you bite of a tortured yell as the spikes rip off chunks of skin and flesh, clawing at the ground with, thankfully, soothing, perfectly regular fingers and nails, albeit cracked, you feel someone take their hand in yours, and you crack open an eye, carefully aware of the blood dripping down your face from the half removal of the heart shaped mask and the thrum of thunder replacing the cold in your veins with boiling, protective warmth.

Time.

“You shouldn’t be up already.”, you rasp, looking over his wounded form, healed by Hyrule, you shakily take your left hand to keep prying at the Majora’s Mask, only for him to take it gently in yours, you taste blood, the petrichor of the Lost Woods mist and pine on the back of your mouth, chasing the rot of Majora away.

“It’s nothing, we both know I’ve had worse.” He says, firmly shaking his head. His scarred eye is open, ivory like bone, the markings more vibrant and prominent with the ferocity of a god, he looks tired, and you attempt to speak, to apologize, to voice your worry because you knew channeling the deity without a conduit was a bad idea, before coughing, shaking from the aftermath of your reckless, reckless plan.

(You unfortunately can’t say you regret it much, though, when you silently bear the combined brunt of Time and Fierce Deity’s care once you reach camp and the protective way they act towards you. Even though Majora is long gone much to your resigned exasperation, and the rest of your boys amusement, but that is for much, much later.)

Time gently hums, it rings through you like thunder as he holds you close, tapping your neck in a rhythm you could recognize in your sleep for when he was about to pull arrows, blades or shrapnel from your skin, or was ready to have it done to himself, you immediately loosen yourself as much as possible, gripping his hand tightly as he rips the rest of the Majora’s Mask off, inert and lifeless as when you’ve both woke up from a new day, he holds you close as you try to breathe, reassuring himself you’re still here, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Please.” He pleads, begs, prays. He can't lose you too.

And you can’t help it, you smile as you cry crimson and russet tones from your eyes, holding him back as close as you dare to. He doesn’t hate you, you’re sure you’re going to soon participate in the argument of a lifetime. But Link doesn’t hate you, doesn’t see you as a monster any more than you could ever see him as anything but the kind companion you always knew.

So you let yourself nod, helpless to say no to him for anything really. And allow yourself to breathe, you’re both going to be alright.

[archersgoon]

even with everything she says on the page after this tesadora is still unbelievably even-keeled. dunno what i would've done in her shoes but it wouldn't've been pretty

[lususnatura]

i feel like it's fellow rogues would just come to accept at some point that blamore is going to be eating around them at least 40-45% of the time around them, because his metabolism is literally just THAT hyperactive that it pretty much is always carrying snacks on his person. which is,, well, really not so good on one hand. but on the other hand, if blamore likes you, then you may just get free snacks from him... so yay for that??? idk LOL

[grinleysspa]

this is fucking insane??? how are you gonna mock people who recognize that Hamas is a fucking terrorist organization, then acknowledge that the hostages exist (a very low bar that so many ppl fail to meet) while also claiming that calling for the hostages to be returned is a bad thing???

[nenekobasu]

the fanfic i write in my mind gets a lot of mileage out of a situation where noa and kaiser call each other by their given names because for these two such an act would hold special significance as a recognition of each others' true natures, and i think noa is the only character who within this manga truly "sees" kaiser and is thus the only chara equipped to call him "mihael". on the other side, noa's name "noël" speaks to the intention of noa being kaiser's true christmas gift and i want a future where kaiser can recognize that

of course noa-kaiser has boundless charm and potential but one vital aspect of that charm is the existing recognition from noa to kaiser, and it's my selfishness that i want for kaiser to recognize noa also, and that such a mutual recognition can be fulfilled by them addressing each other by their given names

(to add i think the greatest gift to kaiser would be "unfreedom" and noa is the person best equipped to give that gift to kaiser. in my head fic, kaiser can learn to accept gifts despite growing up without having cultivated the ability to do so, and noa (christmas) gifting him "unfreedom" teaches kaiser how to be accepting and grateful for a sincerely given gift. i really enjoy the idea of these two inhuman freaks learning how to be human together... )

anyways noa calling kaiser michael especially is pure wish-fulfillment that much i can admit. but i want it to happen and i want for kaiser to return the favor, because in a fan's mind all things are possible

[tiger-moran]

I just got reminded of that time someone requested a Moriarty/Moran fic from me (which I wrote) and then within a short period of time turned out to be a raging aphobe who started not only posting aphobic shit on their main blog but also started an actual """"exclusionist"""" """"ace discourse"""" blog devoted to insulting asexual people (and possibly aromantic people, I can't remember) and invalidating our experiences and oppression, and I'm still thinking about how it was just kind of mind boggling that... you were quite happy to get me to write fic for you for free but then you do this? You know I'm asexual right and you know I've written Moriarty as asexual pretty much all along right? Right?

[two-person-job]

heyheyhey. do you guys wanna know a secret :}