#i gave him purple main character eyes

[salemelas]

colored a sketch i did of nerevar

if you like my art and feel like leaving a tip, i have a ko-fi!

[sillylilguystehe]

So I drew cyrus in one of his outfits from TACO salad!! A amazing fic by Lady_Sandry on ao3. Some close ups under the read more and notes in the tags!

[writer-komaru]

Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗

Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.

Characters✧ Boothill

Words✧ 1464

Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.

You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.

You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.

“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?

“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.

Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.

“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”

“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly

“Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.

He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”

“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.

“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”

You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”

“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”

“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.

“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.

“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.

“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“P-please….” You begged between gasps.

“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.

“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.

“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.

“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.

“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.

“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”

“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.

He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”

“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.

“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.

“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.

“A-aaagh!”

“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”

“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.

“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.

Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)

[saltydoesstuff]

Love bites (Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey x Reader HCS)

((All characters are depicted as 18+ unless stated otherwise)) I FINALLY got this done! This has been in my drafts for a w h i l e and I'm so glad to be able to share it! technically suggestive??, biting, jealousy, love bites/marks, cuddling ------------------------------------------------ Raph: - He is an alligator snapping turtle, biting is what his species is known for! - He has chew toys hidden around his room so he can have something to bite into whenever he gets the urge, or when he gets frustrated so he doesn't grind his teeth together fighting the urge to bite. He has a very strong bite force and he doesn't want to hurt anyone. - But with you, as soon as you gave the okay for him to bite you he was a little hesitant. You wanted him to bite you? You were okay with it? He could take out your whole shoulder if he really wanted to! - It'd take a little for him to get used to the fact that you were okay with being bitten, but soon he is more than happy to do so. Biting is one of his love languages, and to be able to do it to you without worry of you getting upset really soothed him. - He is extra careful when biting you, starting off with gentle nips and nibbles along your shoulders when you two are cuddling in his room. Every time he thinks he may have gotten a bit hard on a particular nip he will kiss the spot and ask if you are alright, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. - The only time he would be less gentle in his biting is if he's jealous. Raph is not one to get jealous super easily, nor let it show. He trusts you completely, but sometimes when the person trying to hit on you is just not getting the hint that you are not only not interested but taken- he could only feel the steam coming from his nostrils as he huffs and glared at the person. Afterwards, when you are both are alone- Raph will suddenly pull you by the waist back into his plastron, he head leaning down and snout nuzzled against the side of your neck. "Uh.. Raph?" You ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye, "Are you okay big guy?" There's a brief moment of hesitation, before there is a sharp pain searing into the spot between your neck and shoulder; making you inhale sharply and wince. - Yeah.. you needed a bit of bandages after that. His teeth had broken skin and had you bleeding. The poor guy felt so bad, apologizing frantically as he patched you up. You had to constantly reassure him that was alright, despite his many protests that no it was not alright. He clung onto you for the rest of the night, mumbling apologies and kissing the bandages every chance he could. - Yet despite his immense guilt for hurting you, he couldn't help the sense of pride he got whenever he saw the mark once the bandages came off. It was a physical sign that you were his, and now everyone could see it. - And if you ever bite back? Oh you will have a very flustered and smitten turtle on your hands. Donnie: - He isn't much of a biter. At least.. at first. - Donnie has a bit of difficulty showing physical affection at times, even more so verbally expressing it. Which is why his main go to of showing love is gift giving. - When you both started dating, there was a long adjustment period of getting comfortable with getting physically affectionate past platonic gestures. It started small, linking each other's pinkies together when you thought no one was paying attention and holding hands when you slept together in place of cuddling. Times in the morning where a very sleepy soft shell will come up beside you as you prepared coffee for you both and gently bunt his head against yours as a greeting as he picked up his mug and headed towards his lab.

- It had progressed steadily and soon you often found yourself being the stress toy for your purple clad lover. He had found it actually much easier to work while you were on his lap, so that's where you stayed most of the time when he had projects to work on but also wanted to spend time with you. You would face him, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and arms hugging his middle as he had his head rested on your shoulder to peer down at whatever he was tinkering with that day. His claws would gently run up and down your spine in a mindless manner, and when he got frustrated his hands would come up to your love handles and squeeze while he tried to find a work around. - One of these times, he had gotten a bit too frustrated. He had been working on a new upgrade for Shelldon, but nothing he did seemed to turn out the way he wanted. You were half asleep on his lap at this point, having been there quite a while at this rate. That's when you felt his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. - He didn't break skin, but his canines dug into your shoulder just enough to leave a little bruising mark. The feeling was enough to make you jolt slightly with a little yelp, startling Donnie in turn. - He pulled away and looked at you quizzically, not seeming to grasp what exactly had happened at first. Then he takes notice of the mark forming on your shoulder and the man short circuits. - Is quick to apologize and offer to get you an icepack to help the bruising through his own flustered state, stammering and tripping over his words. Yet, his grip is firm- keeping you in place on his lap, like he was afraid you would try to get off after he bit you. - He had chalked it up to simply being apart of his more animalistic instincts, a side he is normally the best at repressing compared to his brothers (at least he tells himself that). Still, he tries to take precautions to avoid making the same error. Unless you encourage the behavior, then he is more lenient towards allowing the action to repeat. Just more gently from now on. - His bites are rare, but when they do come they are gentle and almost teasing depending on the situation. His favorite places to nibble is along your collarbone and sometimes the lobe of your ear. - The only time he will deliberately leave lasting marks is out of jealousy, and as we all know the soft shell is very quick to get jealous. Expect to be covered in marks for the next two weeks.

Leo: - Leo would actually be revealed to be a bit of a biter early on in the relationship, a split moment while you both were play wrestling that he had turned his head suddenly and sunk his teeth into the skin of your wrist while you had him pinned. It had caught you off guard, long enough for the slider to get the advantage and over power you. The next second you found yourself on your back with a very smug turtle straddling your waist. - It didn't seem to click for him at first just what he had done, only as he opened his mouth to tease did he notice the flabbergasted expression on your face did it sink in that he had actually bit you. - His eyes darted from the faint mark forming on your wrist to your face a couple times, looking equally as shocked- only his face definitely felt ten times warmer. - He would try to play it off at first, saying that you two never agreed not to bite, so it was still fair game. "All is fair in love and war, mi vida.~" - The biting would not happen again for a while after that, and Leo would get slightly embarrassed every time you try to bring it up in a teasing manner. Bringing it up in a playful tone that you wouldn't mind being bitten, this only served to make the slider more flustered. - Next time he bites you however, is during a sleepover at your apartment. You both had decided to have a cozy night in, cuddled up on your bed and watching movies through whatever streaming services you have. - You were staring blankly at the screen, trying to fight the effect that gravity was having on your eye lids. Leo was behind you, holding you against his plastron- his snout nuzzled into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You could feel his soft breathing against your skin; not quite enough to lead you to believe that he was asleep, but still gentle. - Slowly, his snout trailed upwards- grazing the corner of your jaw as he moved. You didn't think much of it, assuming he may be simply adjusting slightly to get in a more comfortable position- that was until you felt the tips of his canines catch onto the lobe of your ear, tugging and biting gently. - The squeal that left your mouth is still something Leo laughs about to this day. Your flustered and embarrassed reaction to such an innocent test was hilarious, or so he would say. You would heavily beg to differ on multiple of those points. - Once establishing your comfort with his biting, Leo will bite regularly. Not nearly as much as Raph or Mikey per say, but close. More often than not it's more just to get a reaction out of you, he just loves how red your face gets to the simple actions. Other times to have a physical marker that you were his, even if the bites were only in places that he could see. The action still mattered. Oh don't worry, he would never bite you in public. Only behind closed doors when you both are alone. - If he ever bit you out of jealousy, much like Donnie those marks would be e v e r y w h e r e- and not going away anytime soon. He trusts you completely, but apparently other people won't take the hint that you were his unless they saw you covered in his marks. He takes satisfaction in their reactions and defeat. Only he was your champion, no one else.

Mikey: - Biting is also what Box turtles are known for! It's a form of a courting/mating gesture for his species. - I'd say he'd bite you early on into the relationship in the form of soft nibbles, more playful than anything. Say he has you in his arms and he buried his snout into the crook of your neck, he'll gently nibble at your flesh in-between kisses to fluster you. He thinks your adorable flustered! - It's hard to say if he would ever say why he bites you. He would only answer if you asked him directly about it, as to then he would sheepishly admit what it means to him. If you're uncomfortable with it he will gladly stop though! - If you encourage the behavior however, or even go as far as to bite him back at some point? Oh, he just fell even harder! - His favorite spots are your shoulders, thighs and the tips of your ears, you make the cutest squeaks when his canines nip at your earlobe and he just can't get enough! - His bites will become more frequent during cuddle sessions or play fighting to gain the upper hand, you can't tell me this man would not use tricks to catch you off guard- - Despite it all however, he would be rather gentle with his bites. He knows his teeth are sharp, and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. But from time to time he will get a bit rougher and leave marks. He will make sure to apologize if it starts bleeding, immediately offering to patch it up. He isn't as panicked as Raph is, but still worries. - Jealousy is a whole different matter. Mikey trusts you, he really does! But those flirting with you just don't seem to understand that you are taken sometimes.. perhaps a few lasting marks will fix that! - This sneaky bastard will make sure some of his bites are hard to cover up, wanting people to see them. To see who you belong to. - But overall he is very sweet and caring with his affections towards you, no matter what form they take.

[phntmeii]

Slashers and Hanahaki Disease

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies.

Characters: Poly!Ghostface(Billy Loomis, Stu Macher), PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Hannibal Lecter(TV Ver.), Jason Voorhees, RZ!Michael Myers

General Warnings: Mainly fluffy w/ happy endings, Mentions of death, Mentions of vomiting/gagging

A/N: Half the listed characters will have Hanahaki disease while the other half the reader has Hanahaki disease. Some other notes, I sped up how quickly Hanahaki affects people to a few weeks at max and included what type of flower I think would best fit in these situations :) Most are related to heartbreak, loss, death/rebirth, unrequited love.

Poly!Ghostface - Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

Flower Type: Purple Hyacinth

You had taken some days off of class, feeling too sick to go. Your parents didn’t believe you but you looked the definition of ill.

And heartbreak was just the cherry on top for you. Whether you had feelings for Billy or for Stu was already confusing but on top of that, you felt like you weren’t either of their types.

You had seen the people they went out with over the years and you were just never like them. Your own love life was failure after failure but it's not like they were offering themselves up in their place.

You were just the bestfriend in your mind. That’s all. And soon enough, violet petals were being thrown up into the toilet bowl every few hours and you could feel your lungs filling, getting hard to breathe over time.

Both Billy and Stu thought it was weird you skipped class. You’d at least give a heads up beforehand. Billy was more worried than Stu was.

He visited through your window at night to check in on you just to catch you in a pile of violet flowers across your bed covers while you laid there, casually watching a movie while you occasionally coughed some more up.

“What the fuck is that? Are you okay? Me and Stu thought you up and died.”

Looking over, you gave a weak smile in response. “Feels like I am.”

Soon you heard some clanging from the window Billy came in from and found Stu stumbling in, nearly knocking some things down before he hopped back up.

Stu gave a goofy smile as he held up some bottles before Billy looked at him with unamused eyes and snatched the bottles out of his hands as if to say, “Not now.”

Sitting down with you, asking what was wrong. You tried to explain but it sounded so silly. Throwing up flowers? And for seemingly no reason.

“Well… There’s diseases that are caused by stress? You think it’s something like that? Come on. You’ve been acting like shit for the past few weeks.”

You sat there between them and could think of one main thing but… How stupid that sounded. You didn’t want to say it.

Stu shook your shoulders playfully before getting smacked in the back of the head by Billy. “Come on! Tell us! What’s so embarrassing~?”

You sighed and reluctantly explained. You had a crush on them—your bestfriends—and you were definitely not their type. You were completely embarrassed, covering your mouth as you coughed up a few more violet petals.

Billy and Stu stared at each other after you said that, as if silently communicating to one another. Billy slowly smirked while Stu started laughing and wrapped his arms around you from the side.

“Seriously?! Holy shit, dude! You seriously haven’t noticed we were totally into you too?!”

You couldn’t even process what Stu said with how tight he squeezed you with his hug. By the time you finally noticed, you were once again distracted when you felt two different hands holding your jaw as Billy leaned in from one side while Stu leaned in the other and kissed your cheeks.

“ We’ve been into you forever…” Those small words felt like they made room within your lungs again.

PreMichael!Corey Cunningham

Flower Type: Red Salvia

Corey had met you in passing and you didn’t mind becoming friends with him. He was an awkward nerd and it was a trait you found charming to be friends with.

But to Corey, it was hell when he discovered the petals that soon formed and flew out of his mouth.

He had developed a crush on you immediately when he met you. You were simultaneously his heaven and hell. Someone so nice to him and yet the reason he found it harder and harder to breathe.

He avoided you for a week or so. He was so used to self-isolating himself when something went wrong. Deal with it himself as he always did.

Corey figured it was connected to you. It started the day after he felt those feelings rise in him. To make sure, he visited the doctor’s and found the term: Hanahaki Disease. And it was because of you.

He didn’t want to say anything about it. His fate was sealed in his eyes. But… maybe?

He decided to send a text to meet up. Better to talk about it in person even if it made him nervous to.

“Hey… I- I really didn’t want to y’know bother you or anything-“ “Corey, you don’t bother me. It’s alright. What is it?”

Corey shyly looked down and smiled to himself. God, it hurt to think that you wouldn’t like him. You were so perfect for him.

“I know this is gonna sound weird and if I'm honest I thought it was weird too. I-I’m… dying. From uh… Not having requited love...” As if on queue, he coughed, revealing red petals flying out of his mouth to the ground.

You were obviously immediately worried. To hear such heavy words from Corey made your heart drop. You had to ask who. Maybe he could still convince them to share the same feelings.

Corey scratched the back of his head, looking away. He didn’t want to say it. Especially since he didn’t want to leave you with the news that it was because of you that he had an expiration date coming soon.

“It’s… you. It’s always been you.”

A few whole Red Salvia flowers came out of his mouth after the confession. He grew increasingly embarrassed, wanting to take back his words already. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Just let his life take its course and end quick without you knowing.

But then, those moments of silence were interrupted by you approaching and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips were slightly chapped from nerves and his overthinking made him think he should’ve done something about them sooner but he was more focused on how soft you felt. His heart swelled at the touch while his hands went to your cheeks, deepening the kiss further out of pure need.

Hannibal Lecter

Flower Type: Red Spider Lily

Hannibal was not one to ever be sick. It rarely happened, if ever. He took care of his health perfectly.

When he started to feel himself grow ill, he immediately knew something was wrong. Coughing was one thing but it was a completely different thing to find himself feeling the urge to vomit and finding flowers fly out of his mouth.

Staring at the red flowers in the toilet bowl, he already knew it wasn’t something normal. In fact, he already knew what it was.

The knowledgeable man he was, Hanahaki was a term that came to mind but with a sense of confusion.

He didn’t necessarily care for people like others did. His “care” for other people was a mask of feigned empathy. Not real.

But if he had this disease, something was different. And it was love of all things? It complicated everything.

There was only one person that came to mind that could possibly fit the supposed feeling he felt: You. His patient.

He kept it hidden still. Suffering in silence because falling in love was not something he was interested in. It would cloud his emotions.

And yet, he began asking about your love life during your sessions. Previous relationships, expectations of love, etc. A collection of information to mold himself into what you wanted.

He invited you over for dinners more and presented you with flowers each session. Each bouquet with meaning and cleanly composed together.

You were his muse. The focus of his musical compositions and the focus of his sketches when he had free time.

His eyes even sparkled softly toward you sometimes if you looked close enough.

But Hannibal knew his days were numbered and he had to say something before the flowers filled his lungs and killed him.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it. His vomiting became more frequent and he could feel how difficult it was to breathe.

After one of your dinners with him and he was walking you to the door, he stopped you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he gently tilted your face to look at him.

“My dear… Please indulge me in my desire for you. It’s grown insatiable.”

He started to lean in toward your lips. He’d memorized the shape a thousand times over through his sketches by now. Each quick line put to paper was a written wish to feel them on his own. “I’ll grow mad without knowing what you taste like.”

His eyes met yours when he was centimeters away from your lips, breath mixing into one another’s. “Tell me you wish the same.”

His eyes looked to you with a slight desperation to them. Once he received the confirmation, that soft whisper of a “Yes…”, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and felt like life had been breathed into him.

Jason Voorhees

Flower Type: Lily of the Valley

Jason hadn't thought about romance much in his life, not thinking he'd be fortunate to experience it. He thought he had a face only his mother could love after all.

Finding you, you were never mean to him. If anything, you were solely kind to him and he was happy at the treatment.

Then worry set in when he noticed you weren't coming to the cabin as often. You usually visited and left some meals for him and candles to dedicate to his mother.

He worried heavily. Jason automatically believed he was in the wrong. Maybe he had scared you or had done something wrong. He was never good at social cues or interacting with people.

He sat there, waiting for you to come back. You wouldn't completely leave right? Or maybe something happened to you? What if you were dead?

Jason could only find his worries settled when he heard footsteps and saw you again. He immediately rushed out and hugged you.

He signed, "Where have you been?? I was so worried!"

Jason noticed you seemed paler than normal and you looked exhausted. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

He didn't know how to take care of someone who was sick. His mother always took care of him. But he was willing to try.

"I... Yeah. I'm sick, Jason. I've been sick for a week or so now. Vomiting and all."

You couldn't see his expression but he was certainly concerned. He placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take care of you."

Whether you wanted to or not, Jason was already dragging you inside and sitting you down. He didn't know how to help, only that he wanted to help.

That's when you coughed and small white petals flew out of your mouth and into your lap. Jason tilted his head at that. Flowers? He had never heard of someone coughing up flowers before.

Jason forcibly kept you in the cabin until you could get better. You were his only friend. The only one who treated him like a person. He didn't want to lose that.

Few days pass and nothing. Petals had become full flowers with stems needing to be yanked out. You gagged each time you had to rip out the flower by its stem.

You thought you might die. A sickness you had never heard of along with it getting quickly worse? You couldn't help but recognize where this was going.

You laid beside Jason at night. He was attached to the hip with you in your stay. You figured now was a better time than never saying it at all.

You took his hand into yours, something that made Jason give you his full attention. "Jason. I just wanted you to know that... I love you. I need you to know that."

Jason could feel his heart jolt at that confession. It was said in a more sad tone than a happy one but all the same, it was the words said that mattered. "Do you mean it? Are you sure?"

Nodding your head with a weak smile, you placed a kiss on the cheek of his mask. Jason could feel his face heat up at that. No one had ever treated him like that before.

He grabbed your hands, maybe a bit too strong in his grasp, as he signed rapidly in excitement. "I love you too. You're the only one who likes me. I want you to stay. Please."

You felt slight pain in your lungs as the stems that had begun taking root in them slowly retracted and dissipated. He was your cure.

RZ!Michael Myers

Flower Type: White Rose

Michael had inhabited your home for some time. He needed a home base to return to when he wasn’t stalking for victims.

You couldn’t say much against it, fearing you’d be next. And he wasn’t the worst guest?

Besides blood needing to be cleaned, he was silent. You could barely even notice him there if it wasn’t for his giant size.

Over time, you noticed how he grew closer to you. Literally. He loomed over you while you cooked or cleaned. You’d get jumpscared by how you’d turn a corner and see him standing there. He also started preventing you from leaving if he was there.

Michael would stand in front of the door, staring you down until you understood to stay home. Seeing you listen, he gave the most affection he’d ever show: patting your head.

And you grew an odd attachment to him. You’d worry if he was out for too long and worried if he ever came back injured.

You two were attached. In what way, you couldn’t answer that question but you didn’t mind being close to him. Even if he never showed affection or attachment, you knew he felt something. Otherwise, you would’ve been dead already.

Michael never spoke nor gave indication of what he was feeling ever. You could only ever notice the extremes. And when you noticed Michael in his room for longer than normal, you wanted to help even if he always pushed you away.

You knocked but no answer. Knocked twice and still nothing. You took that as a “no entry” and sadly turned away.

Right as you did, the door opened and Michael looked to you with his same deadpan stare you always knew. His hands littered with white rose petals. You didn’t understand until he coughed again, more petals coming out.

You didn’t know how to react to it other than to grow concerned. His hands dropped the petals and grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them. His eyes looked to you and for the first time, there was a slight hint of fear there.

It was odd to see such a large man who had survived hell and back to show fear now. You guided him to the couch, wanting him to feel comfortable.

You grabbed his hand, forgetting how he was a murderer, forgetting how his hands were responsible for the deaths of so many. “Michael…”

He exhaled in response, looking at you through the strands of hair covering his face. He forcibly grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. Ending up in his lap, he held onto you, still silently staring. He buried his head in your chest, squeezing you tight. He didn’t want to let go.

You let your arms hold him to you, caressing the back of his head. You placed a small kiss to the top of his head.

“Michael… It’s okay. I’m here.”

Michael couldn’t take finally having an affectionate touch after so long. Restraint was something he never knew and letting himself have an ounce of it was like opening Pandora’s box. He pulled away and slammed his lips into yours. He pushed you down on the couch, placing his hands on either side of your face, trapping you there.

And yet, you didn’t deny him. You matched his desperate, sloppy kiss. And Michael could feel the air in his lungs return only to be immediately used from his kissing and grunting. And you knew where this was going when you felt his slight runting against your leg.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[five-rivers]

Art Nouveau Chapter 1

@scarletsaphire

Set in my 'Painting in Different Colors' series!

Danny and Frostbite had just finished their spar and were walking back to the main hall to have some frozen chocolate (much better than hot chocolate) when a group of yetis waved them over.  They looked like they'd been arguing with each other, but they didn't seem angry, just frustrated with each other.  

“What is it, Driftice?” asked Frostbite.  

Danny trailed after him, feeling a little awkward.  Was this something he should be overhearing?  Or was it some intra-tribe thing he should bow out of?  

“Flashfreeze thought there might be a color shift spinward of us, near the false horizon.”  He gestured towards that edge of the island.  

“I am not the only one who thinks there has been a change.”

Frostbite looked in the direction Driftice had indicated.  “What kind of color shift?”

“Purple, I think,” said Flashfreeze.  “Or blue, perhaps.”

“I see,” said Frostbite.  “Great One, do you detect any such change in color in that direction?  Your eyes are different from ours, and may see it more sharply.”

Danny, who had already been looking in that direction, shrugged.  “Maybe?  I think it might just be that there are a lot of doors over there, though.”

“We could get out the telescope,” said Frostbite.  

Some of the other yetis made faces of distaste at that, but Danny perked up, levitating slightly.  “You have a telescope?  What kind of telescope?  Can I see it?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite.  He shot a look over Danny’s head, which Danny chose to ignore.  “It’s a rather large one.  Quite impressive, if I do say so myself.  I think you would like it.”

Danny nodded.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a telescope I didn’t like.  Unless it was, like, broken.  Or bad.  But you wouldn’t have a bad telescope, I’m sure.”

“Then we’re decided,” said Frostbite.  “We’ll see the telescope.”

“Yes!” shouted Danny, pumping his fist.  “Telescope!”

“It is this way,” said Frostbite, waving Danny towards the buildings and caves that made up the village proper.  “We keep it put away so it isn’t damaged.”

“Cool,” said Danny.  “So, is it a reflector or a refractor?”

“A refractor.  It is made of ice.”

“Of course,” said Danny, nodding.  “The lens and the tube and everything?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite.

“It must have really thick lenses, then, since ice has a lower refractive index than glass.”

Frostbite gave a great shrug.  “It is what it is.  We tend not to work with glass outside of medical settings, so the lenses seem to be the correct thickness to us.”

That made sense, overall, and for a short time, he just followed after Frostbite, glancing at the yetis behind him.  “What’s the big deal about the color being different, anyway?” he asked.  

“No one has spoken to you about the turning of the ages?” asked Frostbite, sounding surprised.  “Princess Dorathea?  Lord Clockwork?”

“Nope,” said Danny.  “Haven’t heard of that before at all.”

“One moment, Great One,” said Frostbite.  He called to the other nearby yetis, and started giving them instructions, directing them to one of the larger caves.  Together, they started the work of extracting the telescope.  

“Can I help?” asked Danny.  

“In this case, it is best to leave the work to those who know how to handle the telescope.  Now, where was I?”

“You mentioned the ‘turning of the ages?’”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Frostbite.  “Where to begin…  The Infinite Realms are made up of ectoplasm.  Ectoplasm is substantially different from normal matter.  So, the laws upon which it works are also different.”

“Sure,” said Danny.  The physics of ectoplasm was one of the things his parents studied.  He had a passing understanding of how it all worked.  

“Instead of, say, quantum spin, or quantum flavor, particles of ectoplasm might be better described in terms of color and character, qualities that go hand in hand.  On occasion, the character and color of the Realms shift.  The shift begins in one location, then spreads, until it has reached every corner of the Realms.”

“So… Ectoplasmic particles don’t have spin?”

“They do, to some degree, but that subject would require a great deal of additional explanation.  The important part is the change.”

“Right.  The change in color?”

“In color, but also in character.  In mood, or aesthetic, some might say.  Others might call it theme.”

“... I don’t get it,” admitted Danny. None of those things sounded very scientific to him.  

“Let me attempt to explain from a different angle,” said Frostbite.  “Every so often, the ambient ectoplasm of the Realms undergoes a change in color and character, which is called the turning of the age.  As the two are related, the color of the ectoplasm indicates to us the character of the coming age.  The character being how the Realms as a whole both look and behave.  The aesthetic, if you would.”

They followed the telescope up a nearby hill.  

“You are aware that different cultures had different views of the afterlife?  Some very similar, some very different?” 

Danny nodded.  

“Some of that is caused by natural portals during the relevant time periods leading to different Realms, but the larger differences can be ascribed to the portals leading to different ages.  For example, the popular conception of Hell was likely inspired by a red age.  During red ages, temperatures grow more extreme, islands crash together to form larger landmasses, ghosts take on a more monstrous, demonic mien and become more aggressive.”

“Wait, so this shift affects ghosts, too?”

“How could it not?  Like anything else, we change with our environment.  When the laws of nature change, we must adapt to them.  That being said, the internal ectoplasm of individual ghosts rarely changes color.  Yours will, in all likelihood, remain green.”

“Well, I guess I'm glad Flashfreeze thinks it's purple, then.  Red sounds kind of awful.”

“It might still become red,” said Frostbite.  “It is not at all uncommon for the color to change before the age has completely turned, or for an age to last only a very brief time.”

“So, turning into a demon is still on the table.”  As if he didn't already have enough trouble with his reputation back home.

Frostbite laughed, and patted his shoulder.  “Yes, but red ages have their good points, too.  They are exciting ages of alliances and camaraderie, and many a quiet injustice has been revealed and overturned in a red age.  But we ought to see if there even is a change in color before we speculate any more on the age to come, hm?”

“Okay,” said Danny, watching as the yetis heaved the immense telescope into position.  The white ice sides, taller than he was, twinkled in the light of the Zone.  

Flashfreeze looked through the eyepiece first.  They seemed to look for a long time, but then they stepped back and nodded, decisively.  “I was right,” they said.  “It isn't doors.  The ectoplasm over there is turning purple.”

.

“Okay, will you tell me what a purple age means now?” asked Danny, aggressively stirring his frozen chocolate with a spoon made of ice.  The telescope had been swarmed by yeti scientists immediately after Flashfreeze had made their pronouncement, and Danny hadn’t gotten a chance to look through it at all.  

“Yes, yes,” said Frostbite.  “Yes, but purple ages, or violet ages, are not nearly as easy to define or predict as some others.  They can be highly variable.”

“But they’ve got to have some common points.”

“That they do.  The principle commonality is rules.”

“I thought all of them shared rules.  All of the ages where the colors were the same, I mean.”

“Well, yes, but purple ages tend to apply more rules, and to a greater degree.  Rules similar to Frailties.”

Frailties were curses imparted by the five great rivers of the Ghost Zone.  The Styx, which bound one to promises, the Acheron, which defined uncrossable boundaries, physical and social, the Cocytus, which engendered weaknesses, the Lethe which granted forgetfulness, and the Phlegethon, which caused something like addiction, a dependence on a stimulus, most often blood or fire.  

“So, instead of demons, it’s more like vampires?”

Frostbite chuckled.  “I do not believe that has been the first guess of anyone I have ever explained this to.  Then again, I haven't explained it all that frequently.”

“Not vampires, then?”

“Vampires would not be out of the question, actually, what with their rules regarding thresholds, their diets, sunlight, and all the rest.  There was an age of vampires that was purple.  But most people think of fairies and the fae, not vampires.”

“We’re going to turn into… fairies.”

“Do not sound so skeptical.  There are a great variety of fairies, hence why purple ages are so unpredictable.”

“But fairies.”

“Or elves, or fae, or a variety of other subsets of such creatures.  Take unicorns, as an example.  While usually universally violent, when a purple age comes over the Realms, they become tamable by virgins.”

“That’s still weird,” said Danny.  

“The tendency towards rules extends to social structures as well.  That’s how it always is in these cases…  Last time we made all sorts of roles and positions and held all sorts of elections, competitions, what have you, in order to fulfill them.  Hierarchies.  Royalty and nobility are very popular in purple ages.  There is a great tendency to titles and epithets, as a depressingly common frailty is that of being bound by one’s true name.”

“Which river does that?”

“In most ages, it is a rare interaction between the Styx and the Acheron.  But in purple ages…”  Frostbite shrugged.  “Every age has something common to it that is rare elsewhere.  For example, cyan ages - that is the color between blue and green - tend to have a greater number of half humans.”

“Really?” asked Danny.  

“Truly,” said Frostbite.

“Do you think we’ll have one of those, soon?”

“Impossible to say.”

“What about red ages, what do they have?”

“Wars, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right for demons.”  He shook his head.  “What else should I look out for, in a purple age?  Or is it too unpredictable?” he added, remembering some of Frostbite's earlier comments.  

“Ah, well, beyond the emphasis on rules…  Any turning of the age comes with physical changes.  It may be quite some time before you see any, the change has only just begun, but it would be wise to keep your eye out.”

“Do you think that it'll affect my human form?” asked Danny, frowning over the brim of his cup.  

Frostbite frowned as well.  “It may.  There are unfortunately few studies on the matter.”

“You'll probably be seeing a lot of me, then.”

“A silver lining, no matter how the coming age unfolds.”

Danny looked away and drank his frozen chocolate to hide how hard he was blushing.  

.

“So, you’re going to shrink and grow wings?” asked Tucker, raising an eyebrow.  

“I mean, maybe,” said Danny.  “I could also become a vampire.  Or maybe a werewolf.  Those have a lot of rules, too.”

“And Tinkerbell-lookalikes aren’t the only kind of fairy,” said Sam.  “Elves, hobgoblins, and banshees are all kinds of fairy, too.”

Due to various construction noises at Fentonworks - apparently something about the change of age had tripped some detector or other, and Danny’s parents were very excited about it - Team Phantom had retreated to Jazz’s usual haunt.  The library.  Specifically, one particular reading room in the library.  It was very cozy, with the three of them, and verged on tight when Jazz was in there.  

Of course, as soon as Danny had thought that, Jazz returned with a teetering stack of books.  She dropped them on the table as soon as she shut the door.  

Tucker sneezed.  “Blegh.  Dust.  This is why hard drives are the superior form of data storage.”

“Books can’t be defeated by magnets or overheating,” pointed out Jazz.

“Sure they can.  It’s called fire.”

“Is… is this an RPG book?” asked Danny, tugging one of the books out of the pile.

Jazz blushed.  “It’s– Well, yeah, but it’s something people did research for.  It’s all based on actual folklore and modern takes on that folklore.  I thought it would be easier to digest.”

“Gimme,” said Tucker, reaching for it.  

Danny moved it out of his reach.  

“I’ve also got the Encyclopaedia of Fairies, Collected Celtic Folklore, and a bunch of fairytale collections, of course,” said Jazz, ignoring Tucker and Danny as they wrestled over the book.  “Do you want The Dark Side of Fairytales?”

“Yes, please,” said Sam.  “I think I’d lose it trying to work through the others.”

“I was thinking we could list common weaknesses,” said Jazz.  “Physical characteristics are probably too varied, but the list of what works against fairies should be a little bit easier.”

Tucker managed to get the book away from Danny - via treacherous use of Danny’s ticklish spot - and Danny decided not to push Jazz by using his ghost powers in the library.  Sulking, he took the encyclopedia.  That, at least, would be organized.

.

“I regret all my decisions,” said Danny.  

“Is there any weakness here that isn’t contradicted by something else?” asked Sam.  

“Iron, I think,” said Tucker.  “I haven’t found anything that contradicts iron.  Unless, you know, fairy knights wear steel armor.  That’d do it.”

“Well,” said Jazz, with forced cheer, “we can still take the most common ones and test them regularly, to make sure they don’t trip you up later, right, Danny?”

“I guess,” said Danny, eying an illustration of a troll.  “I hope I don’t wind up looking like that.”

“Don’t say that,” said Tucker.  “You’ll jinx yourself.”

Danny let both the book and his head fall to the table with a thump.  

.

“Have you noticed anything?” asked Jazz, a couple weeks later.  

“No,” said Danny, as he had every time.  “I haven’t even gotten into the bathroom yet.  Give me a break.”

“I just think that you should probably get checked up.  There could be internal changes.”

Danny, who had just endured an interminable week of sex ed in health class, groaned.  “Don’t say that, that’s gross.”

“It’s not gross, it’s just the way things are,” protested Jazz.  “I know you haven’t had a chance to go since Mom and Dad started in on… whatever… but I think you really should.  Your health is important.”

“Fine,” said Danny.  “But later, and only if I can get past Mom and Dad.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” said Jazz.  

Danny felt like she was asking a lot more than that, especially so early in the morning.  He liked the Far Frozen, but it was, as the name suggested, far away.  The commute would eat up his weekend.  

“You guys’ll have to patrol without me, you know that, right?”

“It’s fine,” said Jazz.  “I’ve been practicing, and it’s been quiet.”

It had been, too.  Danny mumbled something like agreement in response and slipped into the bathroom.  

The first thing he did was poke the various iron bits that he and his friends had scraped together, on the premise that no one knew what ‘cold iron’ really meant.  There was a horseshoe nail, a broken piece of wrought iron, some regular iron filings, steel screws of various types, a lump of iron ore, and, Danny’s favorite, a tiny iron meteorite in its own case.

(Danny had taken to carrying that last one around in his pocket during the day and putting it away at night.)

None of them had given Danny so much as a rash.  That done, he checked his ears.  They weren’t pointy.  Teeth.  They weren’t sharp.  Fingers.  Had the right number of joints.  Skin.  Still a pale pink.  Eyes.  Blue, with round pupils.  He ran through the same check as Phantom, although that one naturally had different results. 

Either way, he couldn’t find any changes.  He hadn’t even grown taller, as far as he could tell, which was too bad.  He was among the shortest in his grade, although luckily not the shortest.  That honor fell on Mikey. 

He sighed.  He almost would prefer the changes to just happen already.  But he knew better than to say anything like that out loud.  

He grabbed his toothbrush.  If he really was going to the Far Frozen today, he’d need to get ready.  

.

The Ghost Zone looked different.  

Not a lot different.  The sky was still mostly green, islands and doors still floated lazily about, and small ghosts flitted to and fro.  There was, however, a haze of sweet-smelling purple mist in the air, and the grass growing on the ground had taken on a more natural hue.  

There was also a change in the quality of light and temperature of the Zone.  Most of the time, the Zone felt timeless, as if it was stuck in an eternal, neon night at the bottom of a very deep cave.  But today, it felt a lot like stepping outside on an autumn morning.  Which, incidentally, was what it was back in Amity Park.  

It was weird.  Not bad, but… weird.  Definitely weird.  

He took off towards the Far Frozen, making note of other small changes as he went.  Doors and islands, at first glance largely unaffected, seemed to be clustered closer together.  Several of the trees he passed looked alive, rather than dead.  The wind, when it blew audibly, sounded musical.  

Yes, Danny was definitely leaning towards fairies rather than vampires.  

However, Danny was only about halfway to the Far Frozen when he came upon a lair that simply should not have been anywhere near there: Clockwork’s tower, Long Now.  

Once he recognized it, he hovered for a few minutes, trying to figure out why Clockwork would be here.  None of the reasons Danny could think of were very good.  He rarely put himself so directly on someone’s path unless it was important.  And, in Danny’s experience, important often meant calamitous.  

It was a lot less disturbing when he went looking for Clockwork.  

Nevertheless, Danny shook himself and flew to the tower.  If Clockwork needed him…  Well, it was important.  Reaching the Far Frozen could wait.  

He touched down outside the large double doors, which opened immediately, and went in.  The atrium of the tower was empty, however…

Danny crouched down to look at the floor.  The last time he was here - about a month ago - this floor had been plain stone.  Now, it was inlaid with graceful swooping patterns that reminded Danny of vines, or maybe visualizations of how planets moved.  They were still somewhat indistinct, half-formed, but they described a path.  After another moment of hesitation, Danny followed.  

The path traced a spiral through Long Now, leading Danny through rooms he didn’t know existed.  As Danny went, the purple haze got thicker and thicker, to the point where Danny could swear he tasted lilacs on his tongue.  Finally, though, it deposited him in a circular courtyard.  

There was a garden in the courtyard, and at the very center of it was a tree.  Both the garden and the tree were divided into quarters.  One, had plants and trees just starting to put up new growth, and young, early spring flowers.  Another was rich and bright with full foliage and the buzz of summer insects.  The third looked much like Amity Park did now, wreathed in the golds and oranges of fall, with fruit growing on branches.  The final one was wintery, cold, but still vital with winter-blooming flowers.  

The tree at the center was partially in all four quarters, and looked it, with one quarter of the tree in bloom, a quarter in full leaf, a quarter bearing fruit, and a quarter bare.  

It was a very Clockwork garden.  

What wasn’t like Clockwork, however, was the number of other guests.  

Frostbite was there, and given the other two, Danny flew over to him as quickly as he could without damaging any of Clockwork’s plants.  The others were Fright Knight and Undergrowth.  

Clockwork, meanwhile, had his back to them, looking up at the tree.  

“Doubtless, you are all wondering why I have summoned you here,” said Clockwork, turning away from the tree to face them.  To Danny’s surprise, he was sporting a pair of legs.  He eyed them with interest.  He’d never seen Clockwork with legs before.

“The thought had crossed my mind, meddler,” said Undergrowth.  

“Before it is fully set, an age can be manipulated,” said Clockwork, gliding across the ground with small, even steps.  “Influenced.  Changed.  Not at all easily, but I have put the first building blocks into place.”  He waved his hand through the air, purple swirling after it.  “I intend to do so in your favor.”

“For what purpose?” asked Frostbite, just a touch of a growl in his voice.  

“I am not sure you would believe me if I told you.”

“I would,” said Danny.  

Clockwork smiled.  “Mischief, mainly.  I have few enough chances to divest myself of some of the Observants’ control.  This, establishing a hierarchy that they are not party to, is one of them.”

“And what hierarchy would that be, Lord Clockwork?” asked Fright Knight, his voice almost as deep as Frostbite’s.  

“The seasonal courts,” said Clockwork, gesturing to the corners of his garden.  “Summer and Winter, Fall and Spring.  The wheel of the year, all things moving in order.  With this changing of the age, seasons will come to the Realms, as will night and day, and the phases of the moon.”

“And you’ll make yourself stronger by marking the passage of time,” said Undergrowth.  “I see how that helps you, but I have no interest in that.  How will it help us?”

“Seasonal courts must have their rulers,” said Clockwork.  “I think you would serve well as the King of Summer.  And, you, as Champion of Autumn.”  He turned slightly to Fright Knight, and as he did so, his hood fell back, revealing silvery white braided hair and pointed ears.  

Actually… Clockwork had stayed in one, young and relatively handsome, form this whole time.  If Danny looked closely, the other three ghosts around him also looked more… polished, maybe.  It’d take a lot of work to make Undergrowth look like anything but a plant monstrosity, but he had more flowers growing from his vines.  Frostbite’s fur looked shinier and sleeker.  Even Fright Knight seemed less tarnished and bloody.  

Danny raised his hand to his own ears.  They weren’t nearly as pointed as Clockwork’s, but the taper was detectable.  Had the concentration of purple ectoplasm here accelerated the change?  Or had it happened when Danny first came through the portal?

“As for Chief of the Winter Court, I do not think I would ever find anyone more suitable than you, Chief Frostbite, who have managed the Far Frozen well for these past centuries.  And, finally, for our Prince of Spring, one who embodies youth, change, and life.”

Clockwork had, without Danny realizing it, gotten close enough to touch Danny’s face.  He flinched back, surprised.  

“I have ice powers, though,” said Danny.  

“As there is snow in spring,” said Clockwork, unconcerned.  

“And… I’m not sure about the responsibility.”

“You could be a figurehead.  But the symbolism is necessary, to wrest control from the Observants.  Even now, they are attempting to force things onto a path more suitable for themselves.”

“I don’t know…”

Undergrowth scoffed.  “It hardly matters.  I accept your proposal.  It has been some time since I ruled, and it’s high time I do so again.”

Clockwork nodded.  “Then stand in summer, King Undergrowth.”

“I will take on this task as well,” said Fright Knight.  He walked to the autumn section of the garden and drew his sword, setting the tip in the soil.  

“You’re doing this much, just to annoy the Observants?” asked Frostbite.  

Clockwork tilted his head to one side, regarding both Danny and Frostbite.  “There are some other forces at play as well, admittedly.  Rest assured, this path leads to the greatest good.  I cannot reveal more than that.”

“Then I accept,” said Frostbite.  “But be warned: if I should discover treachery at the end of this path, it will not go well for you.”

Well, Danny could hardly say no after all of that.  He still had to check.  “So, the greatest good?”

“That is correct.”

“And saying no, that wouldn’t lead to something on the level of, you know.  Dan.”

“Not on his level, no.  Not for you.”

Danny squinted at Clockwork.  He had to wonder if that careful phrasing was a way to get around a restriction on lying.  

But Clockwork had helped Danny, more than once.  Even if Clockwork wasn’t being entirely honest, Danny should at least return the favor.  

He scuffed his feet against the garden path, then looked up.  “What do I need to do?”

[loveharlow]

SHE CAN'T KNOW

PAIRING‧₊˚ Ajax Petropolus x Telepath!Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2.4k] After Ajax and Enid didn't work out, Y/N finds that she has a thing for him and he's taken an interest in her. The only problem? Enid can't know.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, sneaking around, fluff, little angst, (forgot to mention—characters are 18)

A/N‧₊˚ I literally ran through every Ajax fic on here the second I finished Wednesday and not enough people write for my boy and it's so sad.

˗ˏˋ ajax masterlist ˎˊ˗

“Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU?” I heard Enid's voice from wherever she was searching for me near the main courtyard of Nevermore. I sighed as I broke the connection that had Ajax’s lips on mine for the past 5 minutes. His hands still on my waist as he laughed in my ear and I clutched my eyes shut in frustration.

“Duty calls.” He joked as I peered up at him with a mock-offended gaze.

“Five minutes.” I sighed, drawing back from him slightly as I stuffed my belongings into my bag, preparing for Enid to come bounding into the courtyard any moment. “That’s a new record.” I joked half-heartedly. “Maybe this is the universe getting back at me for sneaking around with you.”

The boy sighed pitifully. “You gotta stop feeling so guilty, y/n.” Ajax comforted, his hands that were on my waist trailing up to cup my cheek as I leaned into his warm touch.

“It’s just, I like you. A lot. But, Enid’s my best friend, Jax. I can’t help but feel like a shitty friend.” I sulked, throwing my tote bag over my shoulder and standing up from where we had been sitting at an empty table.

The courtyard was empty as everyone was busy or in class, where my boyfriend and I should've been. Ajax and I had snuck off to get some time alone and in private, as there wasn’t much of that at Nevermore. Someone was always watching.

He and Enid had ended whatever they were two months ago - they weren't together but did couple-y things. They remained friends and, sure, they said they were over each other, but I still couldn’t help the pit of guilt that formed in my stomach.

“Hey, look at me,” He stated, standing up after me and lifting my chin into his hand. “You’re not. I’ll tell her if you really want me to. I don’t want you to feel like this.”

I shook my head and lightly grasped the wrist of the hand that held my face to pull it away gently, intertwining my fingers with his. “No. No, I have to tell her. And I will.” I reassured, smiling up at him. “It’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Y/n!” I heard Enid’s cheerful voice boom behind me, much much closer this time. Spinning around, my hand still connected with Ajax’s but my body concealing the interaction from Enid’s view, who was standing in front of me now with a bright smile on her face. “There you are. You didn’t hear me calling you?” I opened my mouth to speak when her gaze shifted behind me to the purple beanie-wearing boy. “Oh. Ajax, hi.” She said in greeting, her smile faltering in surprise and confusion.

Swiftly disconnecting my hand from his before she could see it, I smiled back at her. “Ajax and I were just talking about something we have to do with the Nightshades. What did you need?”

Her bright eyes traveled back to me as she eagerly clutched her hands in front of her. “You weren’t in class so I volunteered you as my partner for the project we have to do.” She beamed. “So, you’re coming with me so we can start because you are going to love the idea I came up with-” She rambled, grabbing my wrist and dragging me behind her with ease due to her werewolf strength, making me almost topple over my own feet.

Looking back behind me, I mouthed a ‘sorry’ to the boy who was left standing alone as I walked behind my best friend. He simply waved me off with a gesture of dismissal and a flirty wink, making my cheeks go hot as I turned my attention back to Enid, that is until I noticed Wednesday standing behind one of the pillars in the courtyard, not out of sight but she’d go unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention. Her eyes locked with mine as I gave her a half-hearted smile but I couldn’t help the way my stomach dropped to my ass.

How long had she been there? More importantly, how much did she see?

KNOCKING ON THE DOOR OF ENID AND WEDNESDAY'S SHARED DORM, IT OPENED AND I WAS GREETED WITH THE SIGHT OF THING JUMPING DOWN FROM THE DOOR KNOB. 

“Oh, hi Thing. Is Wednesday here?” He hopped to change directions and clearly pointed to Wednesday’s side of the room, where I now tuned into the sound of her typing harshly at her type writer. “Thanks.” I told the hand that I’d grown notably fond of.

Closing the door behind me, I walked over to Wednesday who made no move to acknowledge my presence. I didn’t take any offense by it. She and I weren’t overly close, but we’d become good friends. I've come to learn that it's just how she is.

“Hey.” I announced myself. It was no use in beating around the bush. If Wednesday was in that courtyard long enough, she saw Ajax and I. If not, she most definitely heard our conversation, or at least part of it. Wednesday wasn’t stupid — very far from it. I just didn’t want her to say anything to Enid before I had the chance to.

“Hello.” She said flatly, her typing never seizing.

“Listen, about what you saw, or may have seen between Ajax and I earlier-” I stuttered out, not wanting to make it seem like I was trying to silence her.

“I saw everything. Heard it, too.” She deadpanned, fixing the typewriter to start a new sentence as Thing flipped through Enid’s magazines. 

“O-oh. Okay...”

“If you’ve come to here to request I keep quiet about you skulking around with Ajax behind Enid’s back-”

“Skulking?...” I whispered to myself in confusion.

“-then I assure you that my lips are sealed.” My eyes widened in shock. Wednesday’s about as close to Enid as I am, so the fact that she wouldn’t tell her was surprising to me. She finally stopped her typing and turned stiffly to peer up at me. “It is not my place to do so and I have the hunch that you want to tell Enid yourself. You seem like a decent person and I doubt that you are doing this to hurt her. However,” she continued. “A word of advice — tell her before she finds out herself. I am not keeping a secret, y/n. I’m giving you time.” She stated, clear and firm. And with that she turned away from me and back to her typewriter.

I smiled to myself and nodded slightly, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thank you.” I said smally, before bidding farewell to Wednesday and Thing, who wiggled his fingers goodbye at me as I left the dorm.

I GIGGLED AS AJAX FELL ON TOP OF ME, PRESSING LIGHT KISSES TO MY NECK. Kisses so light that they tickled. 

“Ajax! Stop it-” I laughed, squirming underneath him as he refused to let up on his sensual assault. My hands went to his chest, making a feeble attempt to push him away from me. “Jax, please!”

“This is what you get for teasing me.” He mumbled into my neck, moving his hands to actually tickle my sides, my laughs growing louder and sucking in deep breaths in between as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Suddenly, my own hands instinctively went up to grab the top of his beanie, forgetting the whole reason he had to wear it.

Thankfully, he caught my hands in his own before I even had the chance to pull it back, pinning them onto the mattress beneath his own as he straddled me, pulling his face from my neck as he smiled down at me and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Careful there, I can’t exactly tickle a statue.” He joked as one of the snakes slightly slithered from underneath his cap and quickly retreated. 

My chest was still heaving from his previous assault as his hands still pinned mine to the mattress. It wasn’t long before I got lost in the way he was looking at me. Without meaning to, I focused in on his thoughts.

She can’t look at me like that. I wanna kiss her so bad. Shit…

“Do it.” I blurted, a sly smirk edging it’s way onto my face.

His head cocked to the side as his face screwed in confusion before it settled into flat, knowing expression. His hands released my wrists as they moved to cradle both sides of my face. “I told you to stay out of my head.”

I scoffed. “We both know that if I’m not in your mind, I’m on it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Someone’s cocky.”

She’s right. 

I cocked my eyebrows and a knowing smirk at him and he quickly caught on. “You are insufferable, you know that?” 

“How could I not? You remind me everyday, yet you still end up in this same position, everyday.”

“Hm. And what position is that?” 

“This one.” I whispered, barely audible before craning my neck up to crash my lips onto his. His touch was electrifying and my hands traveled to his back to grab two fistfuls of his shirt, his nevermore blazer long discarded to my bedroom floor.

I didn’t have a roommate since my old one got expelled a couple weeks back. So, when he could, this was where Ajax would come to meet me, as this was as much privacy we could get on any given day.

One of his hot hands left my cheek to travel down to where my shirt and skirt met, slithering his fingers beneath the fabric to make contact with my bare waist, sending a prominent shiver up my spine that made me pull him closer out of pure instinct and want. 

His lips never leaving mine, our heads tilting in opposite directions, his tongue peeking out occasionally to tease mine.

A hand of my own was forced to release his shirt and travel up to cradle the nape of his neck, pulling him closer into me and he let out a low groan into our kiss, prompting me to let out a moan of my own.

My whole body was getting hot and it started to make moves of it’s own, one of my legs coming up to trail up his calf before wrapping around his waist and letting him put some of his weight down on me.

“Y/n, you will not believe-”

At the sound of the cheery voice I heard everyday, I jumped away from Ajax who fell onto the other side of my mattress. My shirt was lifted, showing some of my stomach as my lipgloss was smudged past my lip-line. Ajax’s face was flushed a light shade of red and some of my lipgloss was on his own mouth, making his lips shine slightly under the light.

This whole scene was bad. Exceedingly bad.

Us kissing on my bed. Our blazers and shoes on the floor, thrown without a care. He was just on top of me for crying out loud. 

Enid looked around in awkwardness as none of us could come up with what to say and she finally settled on swallowing harshly, letting her head down and leaving the room.

“Enid, wait-” I quickly got off of the bed and trailed after her. Socks thudding on the hard-wood floors as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

I trailed after her until she came to a stop in the halls, far enough away from my own dorm, whose door was still open. She turned around stiffly to look at me.

I couldn’t stop myself before I was tuning into her thoughts. Maybe it was the need to know how she really felt before she lied to put my needs before her own. Enid cared about other people more than herself.

I’m not mad. But why didn’t they tell me? I hate secrets. Why did they lie?

“I didn’t mean to.” She blinked at me with the utmost confusion. “To lie to you, I mean.”

“You’re really going to read my mind right now?” She reprimanded, crossing her arms over her chest and squinting her eyes at me.

I shook my head and rubbed the back of my neck for comfort. “Right, sorry.” I apologized. She sighed and let her arms fall back at her sides.

“How long?” She asked in a monotone.

Meeting her gaze, I shrug awkwardly. “About a month. Somewhere close to that.”

She just nodded and looked away, her tongue prodding the inside of her cheek as she shot her eyebrows up in thought.

I stood awkwardly and silently until she looked at me again. “I forgive you.” She said plainly. “I know you didn’t actually apologize yet but you were going to anyway. So, I forgive you. But don’t lie to me again. “ She said with her chin up before swiftly throwing her arms out towards me, trying to hold back a smile.

I took the hint and practically threw myself at her in a hug. “I’m really sorry, Enid.” I mumbled into her shoulder. 

She sighed and patted my head. “It’s fine, y/n. I meant it when I said I was over him.” She assured. “But, you totally broke girl code. So, you owe me.”

I laughed into her shoulder as I hugged her tighter. “I love you.”

I could feel her vibrate with a laugh as she put her hands on my arms to push me back to look at me. “Well, who doesn’t?” She joked, winking at me. “Kidding. I love you, too.” She said pushing my shoulder lightly, which still sent me back a bit due to her strength.

Down the hall, a throat cleared that echoed down the halls. Both of us turned to see a sheepish Ajax peeking from the door frame, half of his body poking out. “Everyone okay out here?” He asked, palming the back of his neck, sporting that oblivious grin he always held on his face.

I rolled my eyes as Enid scoffed. “Everything is fine, you dumbass.” She shot at him.

He disregarded the entire second half of her statement and smiled brightly. “Oh. Okay, good.” Pointing his thumb back inside of the dorm, “I’m gonna- yeah.” He said as he retreated back into the room.

Enid and I turned to face one another before laughing. Once it died down, I sat a hand on her shoulder. “You’re really okay with this?”

She nodded with a smile – a genuine one. “Totally. You really like him. I can tell.” She said happily. “Being honest, I thought he had a thing for you when we were kind of together. That’s why I ended things.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm. But it’s okay. I actually found someone else a while ago..” She trailed off hands clutched behind her back as she swayed side to side.

My eyes widened as I smiled. “ Ooh, who is he?” I squealed. Her brows cocked and she smiled mischievously. 

“He?” She hinted and my eyes went even wider as she giggled and ran off to her own dorm. 

“Enid! You can’t drop a bomb like that and run!” I shouted after her, laughing as she slammed the door behind her. “I support you!” I laughed after her.

Now looking back at it, she always did look at Wednesday differently.

Walking back to my own dorm, I saw Ajax sitting on my bed. He peered up at me with his puppy-dog eyes.

"We're good." I assured him.

He nodded and smiled before gesturing for me to join him on the bed again. "Great. Now can we go back to what we were doing before? I really liked that.."

I laughed and shook my head. "You're ridiculous."

"Is that a yes?" He asked, pulling me closer with hands on my hips.

"What do you think?" I asked sarcastically as he crashed his lips against mine.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[doodlesandbooks]

I was inspired by @sham-w0w's sketch of her versions of the avatars and wanted to have my own go XD -please go and check out her lovely art :)

design notes under the cut:

Names:

I chose a name for f!robin that was bird based and had the same number of syllables, and that ended in an N and started with R, hence ‘Ravan’

Male Corrin has their Japanese name: 'Kamui'

Bylee is a pet name that my sister gave her f!byleth when she first played through 3 houses (other options included Byres or Beresu since that was her name in Japanese, but I preferred Bylee.)

I couldn't think of a good name for her so eventually I put the Japanese kanji of their name into google translate. It came up with Chez, so I've gone with it! XD

The name Luear, was a combination of their Japanese name Luere and their English name Alear.

Robin:

I gave both Robins a Validar/aversa skin tone, but gave Ravan the fringe and eye bags that my favourite design of f!robin has. I kept her pigtails though because they’re pretty integral to the characters silhouette. I also gave her a slightly darker shade of hair since in FEwarriors, she has a grey hair tone.

My character customisations of male robin (left) female robin (right)

FE Warriors Anna's momento 1 for hair colour reference

Aversa and validar's portraits for skin tone reference

Corrin:

I love them both so I kept them pretty similar to the usual designs. I did make him a bit younger since his design is based off of his younger option whereas her's is based off of the older option. I also gave him a hoshidan earring because I thought it looked cute and he tends to represent the hoshidan route. I also like to give them lil sharp dragon teef because they deserve it.

My customisation choices for both Corrins

Byleth:

for the byleths i made them both look slightly blue in complexion because of their hearts not really working. Both of them have some pale and some dark hair and part pale part dark eyes. I gave f!byleth more of the paler colouration since I tend to only play her myself on blue lions or azure gleam, so she always has that colour scheme. He also has the darker hair in engage so it seemed fitting to do it that way round. I love them both so I wanted to draw them both pretty close to the original.

Shez:

Shez has a design that I have a love hate relationship with, on the one hand, I appreciate how silly it is, on the other hand, it is ridiculous. However, purple and orange is a solid colour scheme. I really love how they both look in their powered up form, so I have given them elements of that in their base design.

f!Shez's very layered fringe vs un-layered main section of hair really bothers me, so I have given her a shorter hair cut... also freckles because I love freckles and I thought they suited her.

Alear:

I kept both the Alear designs very similar to the original, except for male Alear's eyes, which I've given a darker colour.

In the fell Xenologue, the only time we see his face, Xenologue Alear is in shadow, hence the darker eye colour, I also gave him one of my favourite silly accessories from the DLC - the single earring! XD

[racinggirl]

Racing Hearts - prologue

a/n: I've spent an entire evening trying to perfect this prologue. I wanted it to give away the essence and personality of both main characters, so hopefully I made that work. I have to say that I am slightly scared, because this is my first ever multi-chapter story I'm writing, but I'm trying! Hopefully you will enjoy it.

Repost, comment or any type of support is very welcomed! It keeps me motivated 🫣

Comment down below if you want to get added to the taglist

warnings: dark!lando, confident!lando, business!lando, nothing much really, just rich people stuff.

Racing Hearts Masterlist

next chapter

Olivia

The sky was filled with a range of colours, varying between bright pinks, pastel oranges and deep, dark purples contrasting against the black from the night sky. As the wind breezed past me, the few strands of hair that weren’t tucked into my messy bun flew up in front of my face. I tightened my grip on the balcony’s railing, inhaling sharply before slowly breathing out.

I can do this. I can do this.

Tonight was one of the most important evenings of the year, the annual Charity Gala in Monte Carlo, Monaco. Me and my family lived in London, but business isn’t tied to one city, or even one country.

I’ve travelled a lot, flying to New York City for an opening of one of Harrington Enterprises newest Jewellery stores, or going all the way to Dubai to accompany my mother to one of our fabric manufacturers. They were all business trips, as was the one I’m attending on my own right now.

Monaco, home of some of the most wealthy, successful and busiest people on earth. You only lived in Monaco for two reasons. A, you were born here. B, you had plenty of money and had no idea what to do with it. Seeing as the average net worth of a Monaco citizen is above ten million dollars, I’d say ninety-nine percent of the people at this gala belonged to category B. I had to make a great impression; it was my job as the PR Director at Harrington Enterprises.

I wasn’t a stranger to a high society gala; however, I had not experienced something as extravagant as this before. High ceilings, decorated with glass chandeliers that glittered in the big open room. Waiters moving effortlessly through the crowd, holding trays with glasses filled with champagne that cost more than your average rent.

My eyes roamed the big, crowded room, searching for the man that stood number two on my list; one of the reasons my parents informed me of this Charity Gala. He was a well-known fashion icon and businessman in this world. Nate Thompson.

I spotted him at the bar, talking to the women that were nearly drooling at his feet. The man was eye-candy for every woman at this event. With broad shoulders, a sharp jawline and masculinity that made multiple men run for their money, he was one of the most successful bachelors out there.

I gathered my courage and stepped towards the man, shoulders straight with a friendly yet professional smile plastered on my lips. As I approached, Nate’s eyes met mine and he gave me one of his warm, welcoming smiles.

‘’Olivia Harrington,’’ he said, extending his hand. ‘’I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.’’

‘’The pleasure is mine, Mr. Thompson,’’ I replied, shaking his hand firmly. ‘’Such a wonderful place, isn’t it?’’ I slowly let go of his hand, keeping my posture straight and professional.

‘’Please, call me Nate,’’ he said with a wink. ‘’Mr Thompson makes me feel old.’’

As the night went on, we struck up a conversation about his newest fashion items. He spoke about different designs, as well as places for shop openings. As much as I loved the fashion world – shopping at Versace, Prada and Chanel never got boring – I had to hold back a yawn once every few minutes.

‘’Your father has done a tremendous job attaining the vacant buildings at Bond Street.’’ Nate did exactly what I expected him to do, and it surprised me how little effort I had to put into this conversation. ‘’A very, very astonishing job.’’ Nate continued speaking highly of my father’s deals.

Bond Street was one, if not the most expensive street in London. My father bought most of the houses a few years back, when the house market was at it’s lowest. It was no surprise Nate Thompson was looking for the best of the best when it came to opening his new store in London.

‘’He did, indeed,’’ I reached into my designer bag, fishing out a business card of my father’s company. ‘’It would be a perfect location for Thompson’s, wouldn’t it?’’

Nate didn’t hesitate once and reached out for the card I held out with my fingers. ‘’Pleasure doing business with you, Olivia, you’ll hear from my team.’’ A satisfied smile appeared on my face when Nate gave me a curt nod, me returning the favour by raising my glass ever so slightly.

One down, one to go.

‘’Impressive.’’ The dark, smooth voice scattered goosebumps all over my skin, it made my body react in ways I hadn’t felt in quite a while.

My eyes followed the voice, and I was met by a tall figure. A tailored black suit that hugged those broad shoulders. Dark curls that looked a perfect combination of messy and neat. Eyes, a colour that I couldn’t quite decipher. Green, blue, a hint of grey or even brown, but what I did know was that those eyes pierced straight through me, looking into the depths of my soul.

The low chuckle that rose from his throat snapped me out of my thoughts. I gathered myself and lifted my chin up ever so slightly.

Let’s tackle the number one on my list.

‘’Mr. Norris, what a pleasure.’’

Lando

Emerald green never had been one of my favourite colours, it stood out great with my tan, though. It was sophisticated, elegant and not too in your face. You’d think it would be a colour that I adored, well, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Orange was more my colour, it was fierce, available in many different shades, perfect for every occasion. Mix it with a dark shade, it stood out. Mix it with a light shade, it blended in. A perfect representation of my life.

As a racing driver, you needed dark, to stand out to be the best of the best, to catch people’s attention to gain yourself a spot in the spotlight. But you also wanted to blend in, to move through the field without getting noticed, yearning for the privacy that was so hard to attain.

In the world of business, it was similar, yet different. You needed dark so you could make money, be the best of the best, without having that spotlight. Because having that spotlight in the business world meant you needed that light more than ever, needing to blend in so you wouldn’t have that target on your back.

Combine the two, and you learn to be ahead of everyone, two steps ahead to get whatever you want, whenever you want.

I reached for a glass and raise it to my lips, my eyes staying glued to the business deal being made in front of my eyes.

Everybody that attended this Gala wasn’t here for the good sake of their heart. No, a Charity Gala was the perfect way to make it look like you’re donating money for those in need, when in fact it’s the perfect cover-up for a business deal. One that was being closed a few meters away from me.

Once the deal had been made, I made my way over with a few long strides. She didn’t hear me approach, causing her body to react instantly to my voice.

‘’Impressive.’’ I never expected Olivia Harrington to strike up a deal with Nate Thompson in just under 17 minutes. The man was harder to please than a newborn baby that needed its mom. However, I suppose when you’re looking for a new location for your shop, Bond Street was the place to be, a coincidence that Richard Harrington had exactly what Nate needed? I don’t think so.

I never underestimated the Harrington family; they were one step ahead most of the time. It’s a good thing I’m always two ahead.

‘’Mr. Norris, what a pleasure.’’ I took a hold of her hand, ignoring the way her soft skin felt against my own. ‘’Ms. Harrington.’’ Her hand let go of mine, and I grinned slightly at the subtle flush of her cheeks.

‘’Surely not eavesdropping, I hope?’’ Her soft yet sharp voice was a complete contrast to the previous shock on her face when she laid eyes on me.

‘’Merely observing.’’

My gaze flew over her body, the way that emerald green dress hugged her body in the right places, the tanned legs underneath that dress going down to the Louboutin’s she was wearing. I wasn’t one to back away from a bit of flirting, I absolutely loathed the fake smiles and pretended interest at any business event. They were necessary, for the most part, and I was amongst one of many that took part in the fake contest, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it.

‘’I see,’’ the smile on my face was less forced this time, but I blame it on how the woman in front of me swallowed hard, a clear indication of nervousness.

A chuckle rose in my chest. ‘’No need to be nervous, Sunshine,’’ I smirked slightly. ‘’I’m not as intimidating as they say.’’ I made sure my voice was smooth and filled with confidence, as always.

‘’Nervous? Is that another of your observations, Mr. Norris?’’

‘’It is,’’ I maintained eye contact as I took another sip of the Louis Roederer drink. At least they served some decent champagne. ‘’and I’m never wrong.’’

Another harsh bob of her throat.

I was aware of the fact I was on their list of business talks. Nate Thompson may be one of the most successful men at this event, but not nearly as successful as me. Like I said before, always be two steps ahead.

‘’Now, let’s cut straight to what brought you here. Let’s talk business, shall we?’’

TAGLIST

@smoooothoperator @tapedeck-hearts @cabbyhabs @wanderingreigns @samantha-chicago @alltoomaples @ironmaiden1313 @pinkbookloverslife @onlyzahraaaa

[p0rk-guts]

YAAAAALL IT'S ANGEL DUST!!!!! bro I'm so exited to tell u about him hehehehe he might be my fav redesign of the bunch idk

Comparison & rant!⬇️ + A bug/spider cw. I put reference images in there!

Ok guys can I be honest with you. I think. Pilot and pre-pilot Angel were peak 😔 I'M SORRY I'M BREAKING MY SILENCE

Like whaaat... WHAAAT.... I'm sorry he served here he had the BEST design idc idc you can't change my mind. These were NOT bad designs. I've got a slight preference to his oldest design but even then the pilot design was great to me.

THIS however...

OooOOOH MY GODDDDD THEY NEUTERED HIM!!?! NO tits, three measly ugly stripes on an uglier coat, LONG GLOVES THAT ARE MISMATCHED??? ONE OF THEM HAS THESE WEIRD... WHITE FLAPS?? WHO— WHAT. WHY. AND THEY GO OVER HIS LONG SLEEVES 😭😭😭

I'm sorry but Angel will always be the most egregious case of character assassination in this show, design and character wise. He sucks now and I used to love him.

Okay enough crying let's get serious.

So yeah show Angel sucks. Removing his chunky gloves removed a lot of the fun shape in his silhouette so now he's just a gangly twink. Very little visual interest. Also hate hate hate how his new mismatched gloves are pulled over his long sleeve coat. So dumb. Hate it.

Also explain to me how he's gradually gotten less tits but has simultaneously become more femboy-ified..... So many people immediately mistake him for a girl.......

They also mistake him for. Literally anything but a spider. Once again Viv can't code or theme characters for shit. I also don't like how his face changed... I can't describe it but It's so much less appealing and charming. Something in the eyes and his little cheek bump. Idk. Really hate show Angel props to the animators for making him watchable with his bold animation ts was real nice

Okay onto my Angel! He's now a goldenrod crab spider now! Thank you @/cryptablog for this idea!! (Not tagging them bc they hate the hellaverse with a burning passion lol 💀) They can be white with pinkish markings like our og Angel but most of them are tinted yellow or completely yellow!

I decided to make him most similar to that mid ground mix of yellow and white with pink-er markings. 1 because I kept lust pink and I feel like that'd be a prominent sin of his (+ purple is in here a lot bc I feel like he'd also be pride aligned! Purple is now the pride color :3) and 2 because the yellow tone in his fur is kinda meant to connect him to Husk in a way... Cuz that's kinda his main color... Idk maybe I'm onto nothing with that one BUT his primary color is purple and Husk's primary color is yellow(ish)! Complimentary boyfriend's!!! Are you seeing my vision!!!!! (Also on a lesser note his colors look more similar to my fav version of Angel aka his design from the pre-pilot ref sheet I showed)

Another idea you can thank Cryptamen for is him being partially translucent in places just like real goldenrods!!!! The idea behind that was because he was in the mafia in life and he had to be really stealthy at times so now in certain environments he's harder to see... Maybe he can even turn fully invisible for a bit... There's also possible character reasons to consider tying in there as well... Ough very cool idea 10/10

Gave him 4 legs and 4 arms + the big abdomen to really make him scream spider bc yes spider boys can be hot and no Viv was not willing to CAPITALIZE on that 😒 Also lengthened his fangs... Also moved his eyes to his forehead to make them more prominent and hopefullyyyy seem more like eyes. Idk. And now he's got pointy little pedipalps as well!!!

Gave him his boobs back bc he deserves them and just generally gave his body more shape (though the second set of legs definitely helps lol). Slightly de-twinked... But not by much...

Once again looked up some common hairstyles at the time and people loooved their hairspray and curls, or swoops, or waves— they were gettin funky with it. Hard to emulate that on his nonhuman skull so I took some artistic liberties applying ideas from common styles onto him.

Didn't do much research at awl for his clothes... I mean... He's not wearing much to begin with... I kept the long gloves bc I thought they had potential to look cute and I have him rolled cuffs on short sleeves. Wanted to keep the style simple but otherwise I would've drawn button clasps keeping them in place. No notes on the thigh high heels so I kept them. Everything else is just kindaaaa whateverrrr EXCEPT THE NECKLACE. Though it was hella funny and fitting

And that's awl folks.... Do u like him do u fuck with him.... Let me knowwww....... Okay byeeee ✌🏾🧍🏾‍♀️

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; power imbalance; forced relationship; violence; death (minor character); D/s undertones; gun play; gun play kink; explicit sexual situation; faint choking kink; mention of breeding kink;

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 8k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 4. Heated hail

~ * ~ 

Hues of orange and purple brushed over the horizon in softest strokes as the sun settled down, but your heart couldn’t settle in your chest, every few hours jumping into a rapid patter to the tune of anxiety. 

Staying in the safety of your apartment for two days after the horrid events didn’t help much, it still felt impossible to ease into your new life with its stains of alluring darkness. 

You called in sick the morning after your engagement. Then stayed home for another day, as well. Hiding worked no miracles, your brain was very much conscious of the events that happened and of the things awaiting you, but at least you didn’t have to face it all for those few more hours of denial.

Though no one appeared on your doorstep and you didn’t sense any eyes on you as you occasionally walked out onto your tiny balcony, you were convinced that Steve knew very well where you were. 

At all times.

It was a blessing he didn’t march into your home with a wedding gown, forcing you to say the vows immediately. You half expected it, since your continued talk after the kiss included Steve’s announcement that you’re to be married in a month. 

He wasn’t interested in waiting.

It seemed that even when Steve Rogers appeared patient, it was only when he knew the results he demanded would come precisely in the time window he approved of. 

Giving you a month was undoubtedly an act of grace in his eyes, since he could’ve as well dragged you in front of some registrar the very next day. 

Or maybe it was a wicked torment on his part, making you organize a wedding you didn’t really want. Not ripping off the band aid quickly, but making conscious decisions (as indifferent as they may be) about details regarding the ceremony of binding yourself to Steve for life.

True torture was playing the part of shocked and grief-stricken when Natalie called you a few hours earlier to inform you of Felix’s tragic car accident.

You nearly laughed hysterically at that.

Car accident. Sure.

Against a truck branded Rogers. 

You had no idea if they staged it so that it looked like an accident after they'd beaten him to death (or done worse things to him), or if Rogers had enough officers under his thumb that they classified it as such, without letting anyone know the truth. 

But you knew the truth. Most of it, anyway, without gory details.   

Maybe you shouldn’t feel sad, considering Felix gave you to another mobster on a silver platter. Who knows how that meeting would go, if Steve hadn’t intervened. However, you were still human and, even if occasionally you felt a taste for drawing blood when someone pissed you off, you didn’t wish anyone death. 

You would have to play the shocked and sorrowful employer in front of the health center employees, which was also why you dreaded going back to work. 

It would be easier, perhaps, if your mind reacted in the way it was supposed to. 

Though you knew people reacted to trauma in various ways, there were certain symptoms you expected from yourself. They never came.

When you dragged yourself to bed, you fell asleep easily. Steve Rogers haunted your dreams, but they weren’t exactly nightmares you’d expect. 

Those dreams were ridiculous, really. Dark, yes. In a gothic horror setting almost. No terror wrecked your body, however. You didn’t scream in fear, nor wake up drenched in sweat as you dreamt of running away from the altar only to fall straight into Rogers’ arms. 

You were processing it all too logically, as if you were only wedding stressed and annoyed with Rogers, not in fear for your life and that of your loved ones. 

If you were your own patient, you’d ask yourself if there were aspects of the arrangement with Steve that you found benefiting? Something that perhaps drew you to him?

You still had no answer to that question as you finally walked into the health center on the next day. 

Steady, slow steps; a pace perhaps a heartbeat slower than your usual. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor echoing through the quiet halls. 

Natalie waited for you in your office, as she always did without fail. In a way, she was playing a role just like you; wearing a mask to function without a hitch. Organizer in hand, she recited to you the changes she made due to your short sick leave and those that needed to be made for the day of Felix’s funeral. 

A thought crossed your mind briefly, of what Steve would say about you going to Felix’s funeral. Since he apparently belonged to a branch of the mafia, attendance of Hydra mobsters and other of their operatives was highly possible, and you didn’t think Rogers would want you anywhere near them. 

You viewed yourself as merely a civilian boss of the man that passed, but you possessed enough intelligence to recognize you were now also a part of a rivaling mob - no matter how reluctant your participation was. 

Not only by shared business, but ranking now much higher in your status as the fiancée to the ruthless mob boss. 

You didn’t mention to Natalie that you weren’t sure if you’d be going to the funeral at all, only nodding at her skilfully reorganized schedule. 

“There’s one more thing,” she said, closing her calendar.

She walked to the door, opened them and beckoned someone over. A young man, a boy really, entered your office with a shy smile on his face. 

Unruly hair, which he combed neatly, but they still betrayed harmlessly chaotic functioning of youth. A pressed collar of a button down shirt peeked above his blue cardigan. He reminded you of first year students, or apprentices at their first posting. 

The first person in the past few days who seemed innocent and you welcomed that change with a softened heart. 

“This is Peter Parker.” Natalie announced.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” the boy cut the space between the two of you and extended his hand for you to shake. 

“Peter has just applied for our vacant position.” Natalie’s voice remained neutral and professional, but the way she accented vacant position left no doubt that it meant Felix’s job. 

Which shouldn’t be announced this soon. No one would post an ad without your authorization. So unless one of the center’s workers tried to push his own son or nephew into free position, that Parker kid was sent in by someone who knew of the brutally gained opening. 

“Son of a bitch.” You cursed under your breath. 

Natalie arched a single brow, but said nothing as you picked up your phone and unlocked it with a murderous glare. Parker said nothing either, only looked your way slightly bewildered. 

Shame that Rogers didn’t warn him about your newly discovered tendencies to outbursts. 

That it was Steve Rogers’ move, you had no doubt. 

You found his name in your contacts - Steve typed it in himself, teasing you that a fiancée should have her future husband’s number in her phone.

He picked up quickly, actually surprising you that he answered at all. You thought his phone number to be more of a reminder for you that you gave yourself away to him, rather than being able to actually call him. So when you heard his voice on the other end of the line, you choked on your words for a second. 

“Princess?”

You wondered if he saved your number under that pet name.

“The center was supposed to remain under my control,” you hissed into the phone when you regained your voice. “Hiring people should be my decision.”

“Peter’s very approachable and he learns fast,” came Steve’s reply; his voice soft, but there was that lining of finality to his decision.

You paused, once again surprised. This time by the fact Steve wasn’t playing lying games, just cutting straight to the core of the problem. Which also meant he anticipated your reaction, but did it anyway, disregarding your opinion on the matter. 

You’d laugh at the irony of it - that a man being truthful and direct in an important conversation (traits you valued), at the same time was the fucking bane of your existence. 

“Is he even of age?” You snorted, glancing Parker’s way. “He looks sixteen.” 

“I’m twenty two.” Peter chimed in and you frowned.

He really didn’t look to be over twenty. Then again, in the past you’ve been asked for an ID even though you were way over twenty five. You had no idea how young people were when they started working for the mob. 

Perhaps Rogers had no conscience and hired kids for dirty jobs too. 

“He’s legal,” Steve sounded amused. “No forged papers on him. Lives alone with his aunt, so a solid job, like the one at the center, is something he needs.”

You did not believe in Rogers’ sympathy, not for a second. Perhaps he took care of his employees in a peculiar way, but you wouldn’t mistake it for him actually caring if Peter’s dreams come true, or if his economical status is secured. 

Moreover, you suspected he used Peter’s wobbling financial stability as a means to lure him into the mafia in the first place.

“Then he could’ve applied without your commendation. Since it’s his own motivation to work here, right?” You allowed yourself a defiant tilt of your chin and a challenging gaze, since Steve couldn’t see it anyway. 

You weren’t stupid to believe Steve pushed the kid into this position only because Peter needed it. More likely, Steve wanted someone from his own batch to infiltrate the center. Maybe even to keep an eye on you, though you seriously didn’t imagine how a barely-out-of-teens boy was supposed to do that. 

“Recommendation is an additional bonus to an otherwise great employee you’ll be hiring.” 

You didn’t know Steve well enough yet to assess by his tone alone if he was growing annoyed with this conversation, or rather bored (since he knew you would be agreeing to his demands anyway, unless you wanted more harm happening). 

“That depends on the recommendation,” you muttered, too late realizing you said it out loud.

“You don’t trust my word, Princess?” A deeper timbre resounded in Steve’s voice, sending a shiver across your skin. 

He wasn’t there, but you could easily imagine the glint in his blue eyes as he peered at you from beneath his long eyelashes. An edge of a blade caressing your breakable skin.

“I’m miffed at you planting your fucking seeds in my center, when it was supposed to stay under my care!” 

There was a pause after you snapped.

One in which you cursed yourself inwardly for once again antagonizing someone who held your life in his hands, quite literally. Your heart thumped loudly, you felt the echo of it through your bones. 

However, when Steve’s voice returned with a reply, it wasn’t a promise of your death. 

Though it may as well have been, considering his words.  

“I can plant different seeds, if you wish. Inside you, Princess.”

Your intake of breath was sharp, your pupils widened and your mouth hung open. He did not just say that!, your mind screeched, while your body roused in alertness. 

You hung up the phone without uttering a single more word to Steve, then tossed it to the far edge of the desk as if it burned you. Your gaze lingered on it for a moment longer, in fear of it ringing to life. 

You couldn’t comment on Steve’s innuendo. Acknowledging it meant recognizing this particular aspect of marriage, which you somehow repressed from your mind. 

No, your marriage to Rogers was supposed to be only on paper, only for his gain of the lands and immunity. 

A facade, with a shiny ring and your new last name stained with the blood of Steve’s opponents. Not a true merging of two people, neither in minds nor in hearts, definitely not in bodies. 

A quiver pattered down your spine like a strummed string at the sudden, vivid image of Rogers’ thick body pressing into your naked space.

Fear, it had to be. But it also carried a rush of adrenaline that tingled in your nipples and brought heat to the sensitive shell of your ear.

“I need a break,” you shook yourself out of it and abruptly moved. “I’m going for coffee.”

“I can make you some,” Natalie offered, observing you with perfectly masked curiosity. 

It was a change in your behavior, this sudden restlessness and outbursts of unresolved tension. As stressful as taking over a big health center was, you managed to remain calm and professional since the first day. Natalie witnessed you roll your eyes a few times and assertively set yourself, but this was a novelty. 

She could only assume it was because of the tragic loss of an employee so early in your work, maybe suspect Rogers was threatening you. You doubted she’d ever imagine the extent of sweet terror he planned for you.

“No, I have to get out for a few minutes.” You weren’t even sure you really wanted coffee, a shot of vodka would be a better option. 

But you needed to step outside for a few minutes; to not see Peter’s boyish face with its innocence written all over it, while you knew the darkness he was signing his soul to. You hoped his only job was to tattle on you. 

You grabbed your handbag, purposely ignored your phone still hanging on the edge of the desk, and strode toward the exit. 

“What about Peter?” Natalie asked before you reached the door, both of them staring at you expectantly. 

“Hire him.” You sighed, anger whipping in your tone. 

“And you!” You glared Peter’s way. “Make sure your other boss knows that within these walls your duties are only to the center.” 

It was a bold statement. One you probably had no leverage to actually make real. In terms of power, Rogers had more of it, since he had it also over you. If he gave Peter a different task to run along his duties at the health center, that order would come first. 

Still, you wanted to make your opinion clear and install some respect for the work here. 

As you walked to the nearby coffee shop, you glanced around a few times to check if anyone was following you. You had no proof of Rogers sending someone to trail you, yet you were convinced of it. 

If he had, they were skilled at blending in, since no one seemed suspicious to you.

The usual buzzing noise of the coffee shop - conversations combined with quiet music and clinking of glass - felt like a soothing lullaby to your strained nerves. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries. 

By the time you got your order, you had mostly calmed down. You were still pissed off, but there was no point in exhausting yourself fighting a losing battle. 

It was time to accept the uncomfortable truth of Steve’s upper hand. At all times. 

As you stirred your coffee with a paper spatula, someone stepped next to you. In your peripheral vision you caught their hand reaching for three packets of sugar. 

“I’d suspect having Rogers on your tail requires a stronger brew than coffee.” A smooth, melodic male voice started casually.

His words froze you in place for a second, trepidation stopping your heart and then rushing it into a rapid beat. 

You said nothing, tossing your spatula into the bin and quickly reaching for the cup lid to put on your paper cup and leave the place. The man’s hand slipped between you and the lid, pushing it to the side as he reached for the cinnamon sprinkle; his gesture seemingly so innocent.  

As he withdrew his hand, glass jar of cinnamon in his hand, your gaze dropped onto a leather casing left on the counter right next to your coffee. 

A police badge. In the name Quentin Duvall.

Was it a test? Since all signs on earth and in heaven pointed that Rogers had police and other agencies in his pocket, this could be a game to see if you’d stay loyal to your future husband. 

Logically, he shouldn’t expect you to. It was only your lack of connection that you didn’t dare to seek help in the law enforcement, for if you had some friend of a friend who was an officer then you’d go to them in a heartbeat. 

You were quite certain Steve knew you would and he probably didn’t care.

“He’s a pain not only in your ass,” the man said, exchanging the cinnamon for his badge. “It’s hard to build a case against him when more than half of my colleagues are on his payroll.”

“What do you want?” Your fingers squeezed the paper cup, coffee sloshing to the brim. 

You didn’t lift your head to look at him, figuring it was best to keep the impression of a casual conversation over coffee station. If you were being watched, perhaps it wouldn’t be too suspicious. 

“There’s an ATF agent working to build a case against Rogers’ mob. He’d like to meet you and propose a way to provide you protection for whatever you can bring to the table.”

“Why won’t he contact me directly?” Deliberately, you picked a jar of chocolate sprinkles and added them to your cooling coffee.

“Since he’s one of the very rare daring to hunt Rogers, he’s on the fucker’s radar. If he appeared anywhere near, Rogers would know of it and it could end badly for you.” There was a hint of concern in Duvall’s voice, but not enough to be a poor actor’s play.

Then again, maybe it was a perfect play. Luring you with a safeline, but making it risky so you wouldn’t see it as a trap right away. 

“If you want to help-” he picked a spatula and stirred his own coffee- “if you want to get out of Rogers’ grip, come here the day after tomorrow at the same time. I’ll give you the meeting details then.” 

He took his cup and left, merging with the group of friends that were exiting at the same time. You waited a few moments, carefully putting the lid on your cup and lifting it to your mouth for a long, thoughtful sip.

Your walk back to the center was sluggish, your gaze switching from staring blankly ahead to staring at the pavement beneath your feet. 

If it was a test and you failed it, what sort of consequences would Steve draw out? If, by some miracle, a just officer could save you from the dragon guarded tower, shouldn’t you risk it? 

As you sat in your office, too preoccupied with the new dilemma, your irritation grew. That someone appeared and rocked the boat on an already stormy sea. 

Though a flicker of hope tempted you to take the risk and meet the agent, you were annoyed that it came as another drastic change in your life in such a short time. Honestly, a part of you simply wanted to just go steady with one route, even if it was the one with you on Rogers’ leash.

At least it would be settled. If you kept fighting, not only would it piss off Rogers, but it meant exhaustion for you. Perhaps a never ending one. 

Because was there really a chance for protection from Steve, if his ties reached to the Capitol and beyond?

Natalie found you deep in thought and blankly staring at the window of your office. She did a quick scan of the untouched documents which you should be working on, then flicked her gaze to you. 

Whatever she saw in your face, it made her close the door to your office and lock it. 

She moved a free chair to sit next to you on your side of the desk and in a hushed tone asked what was going on.

You looked at her for a long, silent moment. It would be reckless to tangle another innocent soul into the sticky, dark web in which you were trapped. You didn’t want to put her in danger. But you needed someone to know, someone who was a part of it from the beginning even if it was as a bystander.

Natalie and Felix were the ones who told you the truth of who Steve is in the first place, so at least you didn’t have to reveal to her something she wouldn’t already know about the man. 

With a sigh, you opened your mouth and told her everything. 

As you studied Natalie’s face afterwards, you realized she might have been the best choice to share the burden. There was no fear on her face, no panic settling in. She frowned, processing it all and you almost could sense the cogs in her head turning as she conjured up a plan. 

“That officer, what was his name again?” She asked, sliding her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly.

“Duvall. Quentin Duvall.” You told her. “Why?”

“I fucked a guy who has ways to check people’s background,” Natalie replied without an ounce of shame or awkwardness. “A computer geek. I’ll ask him to check if officer Duvall is who he claims to be.”

“Oh!” That way at least you’d know if it wasn’t a scheme. “That’s helpful. Thank you.”

Natalie didn’t acknowledge your gratitude, as if it wasn’t even needed. Determined and focused on the task, she exchanged text messages with whomever was so into her he still agreed to do for her something that was probably illegal.

Since you were engaged to a mob boss, you weren’t going to judge. 

Few hours later, just as you were finishing for the day, Natalie returned to your office with ready information. 

“It’s your choice,” she said, taking her jacket off. 

Thin bracelets on her wrist jingled faintly, a peek of a small spider tattoo on her forearm quickly disappeared beneath the folded jacket which she draped over her arm.

“But I think you should meet him. A meeting doesn’t yet mean you’re agreeing to anything.” She walked next to you as both went toward the exit. “If they don’t offer you actual solid protection, you simply give them nothing.”

“What if Rogers finds out about the meeting and it angers him? Even if I don’t say anything yet.” Somehow, as you thought of the consequences to your decision, it was Steve’s face that kept popping in your head. 

His icy eyes trained on you; his fingers stroking you before clenching around your throat. 

Natalie paused, glancing at you with a scowl. She didn’t seem annoyed with your question, but rather with the fact she had no certain answer for it. Natalie liked knowing everything. 

“That I don't know.” She admitted, with a small pout. “In different circumstances I’d go for some predictable wrath, but honestly? He declared your engagement. That’s definitely completely unpredictable. So who knows what he’d do.” 

It was a very small, very naive consolation, but you reminded yourself that if he wanted you dead, Rogers would have made that happen already. 

If you were his employee who betrayed him, then severe torture awaited, if not aforementioned death. 

What awaited an unruly fiancee?

You hoped to never find out. Being extra careful in your act of casual trip to the coffee shop on the pointed day, you already considered potential excuses for another meeting, details of which Duvall was supposed to give you.

It better not be on some late evening in some shady place, because even though you still didn’t catch anyone following you it didn’t mean Rogers didn’t have an eye on you. 

To your surprise, and actual relief, Duval didn’t talk to you this time, just slipped you a piece of paper as he tossed out a napkin into a bin right next to which you were standing at the coffee shop. It contained the address of a small apothecary in a nearby neighborhood and an afternoon hour. 

That was very clever. A visit to such a place wasn’t anything unusual, even if most people bought their medicine at the big drugstores. And since it would still be daylight, it seemed even more harmless. 

Natalie agreed with you on that, telling you also about a bakery nearby into which you could also step in to keep the appearance of running errands. 

Both of you probably watched too many crime shows, but it came in handy. 

The lights in the apothecary were on when you went in, but it occurred to you that it was completely empty only when the door closed behind you. 

There were shelves stacked with medicines, some key-locked cases and an antique looking chest of drawers, which you suspected was more for decoration than to keep chemicals inside. 

There was no one behind the counter, however. Only the backdoor, leading to an additional room, was open. 

“Hello?” You called out, not moving from your spot near the door, in case you needed to run. 

There was some shuffling and then Duvall appeared in the backdoor. He smiled in relief, clearly fearing you would not come. He beckoned you over and you followed him through the short, narrow corridor into another room.

Spacious, but minimalist (to not say empty) compared to the front. There were two industrial tables and three chairs, some metal cabinets and neatly grouped apparatus. 

The man who leaned against one of the tables didn’t look like a chemist. 

Though you suspected a man like him may know a thing or ten about chemicals that blew up, judging by his close to military look. Well, since you never met an ATF agent in person, perhaps it was how they dressed. 

“Claude Batroc.” He introduced himself, with a smile that perhaps would be charming if not for a hint of dishonesty to it.

There was something about that man that instantly made you feel uneasy. 

Steve raised the hair on the back of your neck as well, but his type of danger was a sizzling black fog that engulfed you in its warm embrace and zapped your body with scary tingles. Batroc was the sound of screeching tires a second before a truck pummels into you.

Your instinct was telling you it’s best to squirm your way out of this, even though you haven’t yet heard the deal they offered. 

“Officer Duvall claims you’re able to help me,” you swallowed past your nervousness and looked at him expectantly. 

Like Natalie told you, you planned on making sure their promise was solid, before you jumped off any cliff.  

“I am.” He nodded, tilting his head to the side. “But that depends on what you can give me?”

You frowned. You assumed they knew how new and short your acquaintance with Rogers was; that you weren’t one of his inner circle people, who could provide a lot of intel. 

Foolishly maybe, but you thought being threatened and knowing of Felix’s demise was enough for them to consider you an important witness. There wasn’t anything else of heavy value that you could bring to the table. 

“Does he really have the stones?” came Batroc’s direct question.

Simple, but completely confusing for you. 

Out of all the things you could’ve expected them to ask you, that never came to mind. 

“I don’t know anything about any stones,”  you said slowly. Your frown deepened as your brain tried to work out, if maybe there were some jewels involved in the whole mess.

Was Howard hiding a diamond mine under the health center, or something? 

“There’s a rumor that Rogers is in possession of the Infinity Stones.” Duvall mentioned and you glanced his way over your shoulder. When he saw your face, he sighed in disappointment. It was clear you were unaware of what they were talking about. 

“They belonged to Thanos. A Greek mogul, who’d probably surpass Zeus himself if mythological riches and armies were comparable to the real ones. He was in possession of the six, most valued gems in the world. They are called the Infinity Stones.”

“Few years ago Thanos was found dead.” Batroc took over the story. “Along with most of his men. A job so clean, nothing pointed to a rampage. And nothing but the gems disappeared from his fortress. No organization ever boasted it to be their job. In time, Rogers’ name has been whispered as the one to do it, but he never confirmed. Never put them up for auction.”

You shook your head again. The only gems that came to your mind as you thought of Steve Rogers were the few that glinted in the dark, thick silver of his rings. 

You doubted anyone would put the most valuable jewels in simple rings, which he wore daily on full display for everyone to see. 

Then again, wouldn’t that be a perfect power move? A shiny middle finger and a warning to anyone who dared to think they could cross Rogers. 

“A different angle then.” Batroc changed the topic. Quite eagerly, too, as if the one he was moving onto was to him far more important than a few shiny rocks. 

“Why is he circling around the health center?” Something dark, greedy, flashed in his eyes. “He’s already got his people sitting all over it. Made an effort to reach you directly, not just work under your nose.”

When Batroc straightened and made a slow step forward, you stepped back. Duvall was standing in the doorway, blocking your escape route. You didn’t think you’d need one, but now your instincts screamed at you that there was something bad behind their intentions. 

“Rogers isn’t the kind of man to tell his secrets left and right.” You tried to stand your ground, despite your pulse quickening in fear.

You weren’t a type of person to limitlessly trust the law enforcement, but since they were supposed to be determined to build a case against Rogers they should treat you (as the potential help in successful operation) with less creepiness.

At the moment, Batroc’s stance and the way his eyes danced over your form were displaying a poor skill at charm and comfort. 

“Maybe you aren’t privy to his secrets.” Batroc shrugged, then bared his teeth in a sinister grin. “Or maybe you’re the one who actually holds the key to the project Rogers has been building, huh?” 

“Quentin said you keep yourself guarded, which is smart if you’re going toe to toe with the likes of us. But there’s not a can that can’t be opened…” 

Perhaps Batroc was an agent and maybe he was building a case against Rogers. His methods, however, were those of another gutter kingpin. He could be working for one, doing his official job and an extra one on the side. Or he could be one himself. 

You should’ve predicted that your hope for help would be false. 

You considered Rogers playing you, testing your loyalty, meanwhile another mobster scum was attempting to use you to screw with Steve. 

“We’re gonna play some interrogation game. With bonuses.” At Batroc’s words, you made another hasty step backwards, your back hitting the metal cabinets. 

A sudden wheezing sound and a loud thump of a falling body averted Batroc’s attention from you. 

Duvall fell down lifelessly, face first onto the floor. At least a second passed before you noticed a pool of red spilling around his head like a horrific halo. 

Then something heavy flew across the space, knocking Batroc’s gun from his hand as he reached for it. 

Still glued to the cabinets, shock freezing you in place, you watched as Steve Rogers strode inside in all of his dark glory. Shoulders so wide he barely fit in the entrance, muscles straining under the fabric of his clothes.  

He and Batroc clashed in the middle of the room - forearm blocking a punch, then a knee up to block a kick. 

Both of them were fast and strong, their fight a darker, less choreographed movie combat. For every of Batroc’s hits, Steve delivered two. Despite his bulk, Steve was exceptionally graceful in his technique. His opponent stumbled for a second, shaking his head to get rid of dizziness after one of Steve’s hooks. Meanwhile Rogers didn’t even wince when Batroc managed to split his lip open. 

It wasn’t a fight that would continue honorably, until one yielded and pledged fealty. 

After disarming Batrock when he pulled out a knife, Steve kicked him a few steps away then drew out his gun and shot him three times. Twice in the chest, once in the head. 

You flinched with each gunfire sound, but remained glued to the spot. 

Your gaze was on Rogers, you didn’t pay much attention to other men stepping inside. Steve spoke to them, but all the voices blurred into a dull sound as your hammering heartbeat threatened to pound away each vessel in your body. 

Only your sight remained focused. Your mind picked Rogers as the only solid point to anchor itself to.

Perhaps simply because he saved you. Once again. Even if it was to ensnare you himself. 

You pushed against the cabinets, trying to bury yourself into them when Steve dismissed his people with some short orders and started towards you, but they didn’t budge an inch. 

You weren’t attempting to escape him. You wanted to escape your growing need to wrap your arms around him and cling to the beast that spared your life as the only source of comfort at the moment. 

Yet, you knew the sickness that bubbled in your stomach wasn’t because you felt a twisted sense of safety now that Rogers was here, but because you witnessed people being killed, blood splattering; hell, you nearly were mauled. Again. 

The anxiety was skyrocketing. Or it would be, if not for the freezing shock still gripping you so tightly you felt like trapped in a glass box. It was an inner torment, procured by your own neurotransmitters and chemicals, that kept you on the edge of a malfunctioning fight or flight mechanism. 

Steve’s broad form caging you in, shutting away the bloodied world outside of his arms, was the first thing that pulled your focus back to reality of now and here. 

The feeling of a hot, metal muzzle touching the underside of your jaw snapped you out of the traumatic trance. 

He pointed his gun at you. The one with which he shot Batroc. 

A spike of adrenaline roused your body into full alertness. However, instead of logical terror and tearing up at the oncoming death, your brain paid attention to how delicate that pressure of a gun was.

How the warmth of it felt against your clammy skin; how refreshing was the metallic scent of it and how quickly it disappeared under the familiar now undertones of Rogers’ cologne. 

That gun held so much power. 

It ruthlessly disposed of a direct threat to you. An extension to the one who was behind saving you over and over (even if it was only, so he could be the one to torment you). Steve was living up to being your knight. Not in shining armor; not even one with good intentions. No, he was a black knight whose curse trapped you in a twisted realm. 

“Did he lay a hand on you?” pressing the muzzle to your chin, Steve moved your face left and right as his eyes scanned your state.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head. You were unable to form a single word, your throat constricted with all the sobs which you couldn’t force out of yourself. 

“Good.” Steve stated simply, without much genuine relief. 

“Your naughty stunt served me well.” He mused as he gently dragged the barrel of his gun across your cheek and down your neck; like he was caressing you with fingers, not a deadly weapon. 

“I wanted to get rid of Batroc for a while now, but he buried himself so deep it was hard to find him. I should’ve known he’d come up for something when he saw everyone else wanted it.” 

You weren’t paying enough attention to Steve’s words to decipher their full meaning, your senses were more interested in attuning to the trace of his gun on your skin. 

Holding your gaze captive with his icy blue eyes (so clear and unmarred with anger, despite what just happened), Steve kept moving the muzzle of his gun from one of your collar bones to the other. Slowly.

He had to read something in your body you weren’t yet aware of - a spark of curiosity ignited in his irises. 

You realized what it was a few seconds later as you felt your nipples stiffen. 

No!, a voice in your head whispered in utter disbelief. That current at the touch of Rogers’ gun was arousal. Underlaid with fear, but the kind that spiced the arousal higher, not switched it off.

It had to be the adrenaline still rushing, you thought. Your mind locked in an acute stress reaction, so that your body got confused; it didn’t know how to react, or which hormones to produce.      

That had to be the reason, the only explanation. Because you have never experienced anything like this. 

Rogers being despicable aside, you simply never entertained any kinky fantasies that included a gun, or any other weapon, or being overpowered so completely. That was never something you considered you might like. 

But as much as you were afraid of Steve in general, in this very moment you somehow knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a bad way. 

And the gun pressed to your body was a substantial proof of his power. One that could touch you physically; do things to you… 

“My, my, Princess,” Steve leaned closer; whether to feel you shiver, or to shield the view of you from any prying eyes. “You’re just full of surprises.” 

He ran the gun down your body - between your breasts and down your quivering belly. When the still warm muzzle nudged the hem of your flowy skirt up, the haze of shock snapped.

“I-” you started, but your voice was weak and breathless, turning into a gasp as Steve drew the gun higher up your thigh. 

“I should go.” You squeaked out, but somehow couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steve’s. 

The only muscles you moved were those of your legs, which parted slightly as he slipped the gun over your clothed core. 

His free hand shot up to your neck; ringed fingers curling around your throat in a loose reminder of Steve’s dominance. Like the first time he’s done it, your breath hitched in your lungs, your pupils widened and your knees weakened. 

Then the solid barrel rubbed against your covered folds and your lips parted on a needy whimper.

While it shocked you, it absolutely delighted Steve. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Princess.” He cooed, dragging the gun back and forth over your pussy. “It’s okay to need to take the edge off. After the afternoon you’ve just had.”

“That’s not how-” a part of your brain tried to fight the building arousal. 

You closed your eyes, instantly opening them again at Steve’s warning hiss. In his eyes danced a glint of triumph - bright and cold like a blade pulled straight from the forgery. 

“Not like this.” You muttered, embarrassed with how eager your body was to experience the little thrill of being caressed with something that could so easily hurt you. 

Sex as a way of destressing wasn’t a foreign concept. Hell, an orgasm or two often helped you relieve some tension after dealing with daily obstacles and minor inconveniences. You’d even agree about needing one to burst you out of the bubble of shock you fell into today. 

But you could do that on your own, not by the hand of the handsome monster who forced himself into your life. And with your own toys - the normal, safe ones. 

It was both a relief and a shameful disappointment when Steve withdrew the gun. 

“Slide your hand into your panties, Princess,” he brushed the side of the gun against your arm, nudging your wrist.

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still going like crazy, the beat of it pulsing in your clit. 

“Come on,” Steve traced his gun up your arm, then tapped your cheek with it, “be a good girl and put your hand in your panties.”

You knew it wasn’t a request, but a command. No matter if Steve’s voice melted into a soft, thick and sweet like chocolate tone. Slowly, you reached your hand beneath your skirt and under the waistband of your cotton and lace panties. 

“That’s it.” Steve brushed his lips over your temple, whispering dirty encouragement. “Now slide your fingers over your pussy. All the way.”

You did as he asked; trembling fingers dipping between your soft folds.

“Now show them to me.” He pulled back slightly.

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole to cut your shame short, as you lifted your hand up for Steve to see. 

Your fingers were sticky with your wetness, a pearly string of slick stretching between them. 

“Seems to me that’s exactly how you need it, Princess.” Steve smirked; icy blue of his irises heating into white flame.

A retort was forming on your tongue, but died a second later. When Steve’s mouth closed around your digits and he sucked them clean. 

His tongue lavished the crease between your fingers, teasing your rotten mind with a reflection of where else on your body he could use that tongue. Suction of his mouth wasn’t gentle, strumming down your nerves with vibration from his pleased hum. He pulled off, with a lewd swipe of his tongue.

For a millisecond, your gazes locked in quiet suspension. 

A blink of an eye and then the gun was back beneath your skirt, while Steve’s lips were capturing yours in a filthy demand. He pushed the barrel past the fabric of your panties this time, hard metal grazing your delicate parts. His dark chuckle in response to your moan reverberated on your lips. 

The fingers curled around your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing over your carotid, but not enough to cut off your air. Not yet, at least.

Stars danced in the corners of your vision, heightened pleasure mixed with delicious trepidation filling your body with bubbles of ecstasy unknown to you until now. 

Steve angled his gun so that it spread your folds, rubbing your clit and teasing your entrance with each slide. Your hips rocked back eagerly. When he pushed a little deeper, pressing the muzzle into your opening, you almost seized. 

One of your hands flew to Steve’s forearm, holding onto the wrist of his hand which was choking you. The other fisted his shirt near the collar. You let out a startled cry that turned from appalled to needy. 

“Give it up, Princess,” Steve teased your bottom lip with his tongue, all the while nudging the muzzle into your cunt. 

Muscles in your legs tensed, your eyes shimmered with tears that weren’t of sadness or pain. You were ashamed of your reaction to the filthy debauchery, but you wanted, needed it so badly.

“I’m gonna have you cum for me anyway, so just let go.” 

That demand was sharper. Steve’s fingers on your throat tightened, cutting off the flow of air. At the same time, he pushed the gun deeper. Merely an inch or two slipped inside, but it was enough to feel your pussy stretch around it. 

Your climax was an outburst with sharp edges, each tremor feeling like an electric current. Your cries sounded choked, though Steve released his hold on your neck enough for the air to flow easily into your lungs. 

The gun wasn’t inside you anymore, but he kept moving it harshly against your clit, prolonging your orgasm to a point of painful throb that threatened to build into another humiliation if he continued longer. 

If he slid the gun back, or his cock into your quivering cunt, you’d probably lose your conscience. While cumming all over him again. 

Finally, Steve eased the pressure. He occupied your lips with sensual kisses, slow and lingering, and tongue dipping indecently into your mouth. The gun withdrew from your panties, the fabric clinging to your drenched pussy in an embarrassingly uncomfortable way. 

Your arms fell to your sides when Steve let go of your neck and straightened. He wiped his gun, covered with your slick, in your skirt, then secured it back in the holster at his side.

“There now. Isn’t it better?” You weren’t certain if he was mocking you, or if it was a pure cocky smugness. 

You were gaping at him, your breath still ragged. Your legs were shaking and your heart was hammering, but there was warmth and life and a vivid feeling of anger resurfacing. No longer the cold stupor of shock and fear.

No, Steve beckoned your brain back to reality. After short circuiting it. 

“Better?” You hissed, clenching your hands into fists. “You pointed a gun at me!” 

“And you creamed all over it, Princess.” Steve’s knowing smirk added to your shame. 

“You shot someone!” You derailed, unable (and unwanting) to unpack the mess of your body’s reaction to being fucked with a gun. 

“Just straight up shot them. In broad daylight!” It was now reaching your mind that all the terrors and dirty deeds, which have happened in the past half an hour, didn’t take place in the deep darkness of the night. It was a sunny afternoon, with people walking the streets just outside the front door of an ordinary apothecary. 

“They would’ve hurt you,” came Steve’s remorseless reply. 

Simple and direct, spoken in a warning growl.

“Nobody hurts what’s mine.”   

There was nothing romantic about it, even if your post-orgasmic heart flowed with bonding oxytocin. 

It was a dark claim, making you into Steve’s possession. His protection of you came only from the need to have his pride untouched - if anyone managed to steal or hurt his bride, it weakened Steve’s ruthless reputation. 

“Now let’s get you out of here, so my cleaning team can swipe in.” Steve motioned at you to follow him as he moved toward the exit. 

Your feet were frozen to the spot. There was a dead body of a man between you and the door; the pool of blood inches away from your toes. You definitely wanted to get out of there, but you couldn’t simply make yourself jump over someone’s corpse. 

Steve’s impatient sigh was motivating - you did not want to get on his nerves too much. But your body wasn’t listening to any of your commands. As it didn’t listen to you when you tried to fight off the arousal earlier.

Suddenly, you were picked up. 

Steve hoisted you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. He carried you over Duvall’s dead body and through the narrow corridor, ignoring your outraged squeak.  

“All that blood and death, you really need to focus on lighter things from now on.” He said conversationally, tone light as if aforementioned gore was just a chore from which one needed to take a break. 

“For a while, at least-” Steve continued, as he carried you out the front- “Wedding planning should help with that.”

“No! I don’t want it!” You protested, kicking your legs. 

With what just happened, you couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to organize a fucking wedding. One you didn’t want in the first place. You couldn’t imagine going back to your routine, daily life at all. 

You just weren’t sure if it was the deaths you witnessed that changed your life forever, or the wrong kind of desire that Steve brought out of you. 

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t. But you will.” He put you down on your feet once you were outside. 

Steve cupped your chin, crushing it painfully between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.

“We both know you will be a good girl for me, Princess.”

[dissentersbedamned]

that charlie redesign wanted me to redesign some others so here are some others, i was going to do husk, nifty, and sir pentious but i didnt feel like doing that

are these designs easier to animate? probably not am i claiming to be a better character designer than viziepop? yes

i might do the others but probably not i dont want to be know for this

individual characters and design notes below

i wanted to give her this soft color palette, making her stick out from the rest of hell, like an "angel" in hell

gave her a pink suit like her pilot design

gave her gold accents to give that royalty feel

her hair is now more curly/swirly to giver her a sheep look, along with the ears, kind of like how lucifer is associated with goats charlie has sheep

i also gave her ears to maker her not look like just a human

the darker pink-red color is supposed to contrast with her softer colors but not that much, it's supposed to convey that she is still a demon, the horns were also added to give that feel

bigger cheek makeup (?) and those gold "chains" were added to giver her a circus clown/ring leader look because hell is supposed to be like a circus

gave her tap shoes to convey shes likes music or someshit

darker color to contrast with charlies, a sun and moon thing going on

made her more moth like by making her hair look like moth wings, fuzzy leg warmers, and antennas (are those even antennas do moths even have antennas)

added a silver like color in her design to match with charlies gold

gave back her stocking from her pilot design and made her hand warmers mirror them

wanted to giver her a hot topic employee look

made her more look like she died in 2014 by giving her the red and black stocking + hand warmer, leg warmers, and making her x asymmetrical

her worm out shorts are suppose to give a 2014 feel but also are like that because moths just eat clothes sometimes

gave her the ribbon on her waist to mimic one of her old designs

her red is the same red in charlies pallet, they match +]

made him purple because i think limiting the main colors to each character is nice also because i think purple is a much more lust full color and to look similar to his old design

made him more spider like by adding an extra pair of eyes, fangs, two more legs and a spider butt lol

made him more fluffy and rounder to giver him a more effeminate/gnc look

gave him eyelashes for the same reason above

gave him a scar on the side that he has the golden tooth and different eyes because i think it would be cool is that was from an injury he had when he was alive

the coat was added so that it looks similar to his suit but still different enough so that not everyone is wearing one

the design on his pider butt and coat are suppose to look like a stylized spiders web

the hearts at the end of his heels are suppose to replicate the end of spiders feet

still kept him relatively skinny because i think he would have one of those arcs were a character starts off skinny but gets fatter to show that they're happy with life

still kept his suit because its such an important part to his character tbh and also so he can mirror charlies pink soft light pink suit with his dark dulled down red suit

gave him a tie so he looks more professional compared to charlies cutie bow tie

dulled down his colors so make him see older and stuck in an era

made him looked aged by giving him grey hairs, stubble, and eye bags

made his deer features more obvious by making his antlers bigger, more deer like ears, giving him a nose pike charlie, and giving him hooves

why alastor got socks on in the pool those are his hooves you bitch

actually made him black

still kept him skinny to give off that sickly skinny look

[bones4thecats]

This is just another request but can I please ask for Loki Thor and Poseidon with kianna komori

But in this scenario she ends up dying but ends up being resurrected as an angel but she still remembers them

Kianna: what made you think I would forget you?

Fun fact in an alternate scenario she ends up dying but father Demaryius( my other OC)

Ends up bringing her back to life as an angel

Their S/O Gets Reincarnated As An Angel

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Loki, Thor, and Poseidon Name: Their S/O Gets Reincarnated As An Angel Requester: @nunezs-stuff

A/N: I read about an angel’s wing color, so to sum up the Reader’s different ones; Pink - Chamuel (Angel of peaceful relationships), Purple - Zadkiel (Angel of mercy), and Green - Raphael (Angel of healing)

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐍 Loki hailed himself as a God who did not enjoy humans being around at all. Whether it be male, female, even a child, if they were human, Loki did not like being around them, for what reason? I have no clue

🐍 Probably just Odin rubbing off on him

🐍 But, when Thor came home one day with a duo of supposed humans, Loki gained interest in the shorter one, that shorter one being you!

🐍 He had begun to hang around you all of the time. From annoying you as you worked on stuff to just laying out small pranks on you whenever he wanted. He basically was hanging off of you like you were the bamboo to his koala

🐍 Once you both started your relationship, Loki had gained quite a bit more of an interest in you. So like, what your hobbies were, what your previous life on Earth was, etc.

🐍 Because of how much time the God of Mischief began to spend with you, he started to become very clingy and attached to you

🐍 So, it broke his heart into smithereens when it was announced that the traitor of the Greek Pantheon and the third-born of the four Olympian Brothers, Adamas, had attempted to ally the Goddess you were visiting; Aphrodite, in his endeavor

🐍 And, due to her attempting to pry more information of his reasoning for this battle out of him, he had thrown a spear in a random direction, and unfortunately, you were in that direction. Once the blade had pierced through your body, you had died, causing Aphrodite to attack Adamas herself in a fit of rage

🐍 Loki had an old scarf that you gave him on your first date in the winter, and he never let go of the long fabric ever since that fateful day

🐍 As he walked around the old garden that the Norse Pantheon had in their domain, he had gotten the message from Huginn and Mininn that there was an angel coming in for a meeting with Odin and the main Gods of the Pantheon, meaning Loki had to be there

🐍 Despite his sour mood, Loki gripped the green and purple fabric closely as he bee-lined for his uncle’s estate. And, once he met the room and walked inside, he had seen his cousin, Thor, patting the head of the supposed angel as Odin smiled, he was genuinely smiling!

🐍 Loki stood there as the angel turned around, their large pink wings flowing behind them as their tiny white halo glowed in the sunlight, and once their eyes met his, Loki dropped the scarf and ran towards them, wrapping his arms around their form, encasing them in a tear-jerking hug

" Holy shit… " " Hello Loki. "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🌩️ Thor was beyond depressed, he didn’t even train for weeks after hearing the news of your passing

🌩️ You and him were very close. He had met you as he took a small stroll around the human realm, since he just needed some space from his cousin, Loki’s, antics

🌩️ He had been sitting beside a small pond in the middle of the woods as he heard a voice ask him if he was alright, making him turn around and nearly pull out his hammer to attack

🌩️ Once his eyes met yours, his heart skipped a beat; you had the most beautiful eyes, eyes that could, in his perspective, compare to those of the Deities of Beauty or Purity

🌩️ Thor began to travel down to the same pond to meet you, and eventually during your second month of knowing one another, he asked if he could court you, which led to dating, then marriage, and then you and him starting your real lives together

🌩️ Nothing was going to stop him from having a happy life with you, but, unfortunately, life had another idea for him

🌩️ The God of Thunder had heard the news from a distraught Loki, who had been a witness to your demise. He claimed that a minor God from the Pantheon had gotten angry with the fact that you, a human, was married to Thor, so, in the fit of rage, they had wrapped you in vines and squashed you to death as their poison flowed through your system, much to Loki’s horror who found your body just minutes later

🌩️ Thor had ordered for the guilty to be brought before him, and once they were, he hadn’t given them a fast death, he let them suffer at the hands of multiple Gods, Odin, Loki, Poseidon, Hades (whom the previous two you had grown close to), and him of course

🌩️ While many tried to woo him in the same way that you had, nobody had come close in his eyes at your place. You were his one and only spouse, nobody could ever come close to you

🌩️ Now, it was the marking of the day of your anniversary of your first meeting, and every year, Thor would go down to the forest to the pond that he had his fellow Deities keep in tip-top shape, and this year was pretty much the same

🌩️ But, seeing someone sit there, nonetheless an angel sitting there with their purple wings holding out and their bright halo holding above their head, its glow getting brighter as the God of Thunder neared you

🌩️ And, despite the stoicness staying strong on his face, his eyes lit up in joy

" It is lovely seeing you here again, Y/N. " " You as well, my dearest. "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅���⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔱 Much like Loki, Poseidon prided himself on his superiority against both humans and Deities alike

🔱 Poseidon loved to watch others tremble in fear at his mere presence, it showed how perfect he was compared to those ‘disfigured’ beings that laid underneath his feet dipped in scum

🔱 But, when his oldest brother Hades had brought a human soul to a meeting with the claim that they had a soul purpose of helping them out with their duties, he gained interest in you, that poor soul

🔱 Unlike Adamas and Zeus, he did not attempt to either seduce you to do things with him against marriage or threaten you into doing things for you, Poseidon just asked you and you did it. Due to these actions, you gained a mutual ‘respect’ for one another

🔱 This fake respect eventually developed into true respect, then a shared romantic interest before becoming a real connection of two souls wrapping around one another

🔱 Once he asked you to become his for the rest of your shared lives, he began to really show himself to you, no strings attached. Well, he did make sure you didn’t tell anyone how soft he was with you, but you get the point

🔱 Poseidon was shocked to watch Proteus run inside, slamming the doors open of his office where he and Hades sat down discussing matters. The first thing the two brothers noticed was the major amount of bloods on his hands, causing his heart to stop momentarily

🔱 Hades looked at his brother and nodded, which sent the God of the Seas running after the God of Rivers who was leading the way towards the edge of the sea’s boundary, at the land where the Greek’s led their lands to another Pantheon

🔱 The two brothers stopped once the bloody sight of one of your oldest friends, Apollo, holding you as blood covered his hands, sending waves of thoughts through your lover’s mind, the main one being; what in the name of Valhalla happened to you?

🔱 That sight was one that Poseidon never forgot, every time he saw blood, he would think of your form in Apollo’s arms on the ground

🔱 Ever since that day, Poseidon never left his castle unless it was necessary, preferring to spend his time looking at papers he needed done or look at old photographs you had wrapped up in a book. These photos had you, him, friends, family members, and allies during meetings and whatnot

🔱 A few years later, Zeus had requested Poseidon to attend a meeting with him and some of the other Gods, and, due to it being mandatory in Hades’ words, he had headed towards his younger brother’s home

🔱 Gripping his trident, Poseidon opened the doors and looked inside to find an angel sitting on his seat’s arm, much to his annoyance, since angels were ranked below the Gods

" Holy being, step aside. " " I’m surprised you're being so cold to someone you once cared for, Poseidon. "

🔱 His ocean-colored eyes widened once he saw the angel unwrap their green wings from their body, allowing their water-looking halo to drip down into small droplets of rain as Poseidon lightly sank

" Y/N? " " Hello, my love. "

[pines-troz]

Night Shift - An Inside Out 2 One-Shot

AN: I recently saw Inside Out 2 and loved it a lot! Feeling inspired, I wrote a one-shot fanfic focusing on my favorite characters, Fear and Anxiety.

Plot: While Fear is on Dream Duty, he finds that Anxiety is still awake and is determined to help her.

Relationship Tags: Fear & Anxiety, Fear/Anxiety

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Mutual Pining

AO3 Link

On the main floor of Headquarters, nine colorful emotions gathered around the console. It was nighttime and after a busy day, their shift was coming to a close. The cool darkness of Riley’s room faded to black as the teen drifted off to sleep, causing the screen to turn off. 

“And that’s a wrap,” Joy cheerfully declared. “Good work, everyone!” 

The other eight emotions applauded as another great day finally ended. It had been about two months since the school year started, and three months since the five new emotions arrived. Though there had been some infighting at the beginning between the newcomers and the old guard, the ten of them already settled into a comfortable routine as nine of them operated the console with Nostalgia sneaking in now and again to reminisce over a recent memory. 

“Fear, you’re in charge of dream duty tonight.” Joy reminded. 

Though Fear suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, he refused to completely hide his disdain of dream duty. “Aye aye, Joy,” Fear sarcastically responded with a salute.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Joy responded, brushing aside the contemptuous tone. She leaned in and gave Fear a high five. Even he couldn’t help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. She then turned her attention to the rest of the group. “As for everyone else, let’s get some shut-eye!” 

“Yeah!” Anger agreed. He moved over to Joy and the two shared a high-five before walking off together.

Fear smiled as he watched his friends/coworkers make their way to the bedroom. Sadness and Embarrassment walked together, appreciating each other’s company. Envy bounced over to Disgust while Anxiety and Ennui trailed behind as the latter lethargically pushed herself across the floor like the bored noodle that she was. 

“Good night Fear,” the emotions told him in near unison. 

“Good night everybody.” Fear replied. 

Once everyone left the main floor, he let out an exasperated sigh. He dreaded dream duty. Not because he was scared of the dreams, far from it. But because the dreams themselves were so insipid. 

The scenarios were ludicrous, the plotlines were structured terribly, and the dialogue was laughable. But it was part of the job and he had no choice. But just because he had to endure dream duty didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun on the night shift. 

Fear ventured in the kitchen to gather his nourishment of choice for the night. He made himself a fresh cup of coffee with cream and sugar substitute and grabbed a box of crackers from the cabinet. After placing the bowl of crackers on a separate chair, the purple emotion smiled contentedly as he relaxed in his seat. He was going to need all the comfort he could get for whatever ridiculous dream he would be forced to watch. 

Fear adjusted his spot on the chair, propped his legs on the console, and crossed them. Taking a swig of his coffee, he glanced at the screen. “Alright, what trainwreck of a dream do we have in store for tonight?” 

The screen projection turned on to reveal an abandoned grocery store. From Riley’s perspective, she scanned her surroundings. The green and white tiled floors were particularly dirty and a synth-pop song muffled from the loudspeakers. She then made her way through the pasta aisle. 

“The grocery store, seriously?” Fear groused. He was used to dreams taking place in school or a haunted house, but his suspension of disbelief was already broken. “So what’s the big set piece this time? Haunted pasta sauce?” 

Suddenly, a metal clang rang out. Riley turned around to find a can of Chef Boyardee’s on the floor. After a moment of silence, the can started to chase her around. Fear cocked his brow. Though he was thoroughly unimpressed with this dream scenario, he still felt a small spark of satisfaction in predicting the storyline. 

“Eh, close enough.” Fear shrugged his shoulders, taking another sip of his coffee. 

He continued to heckle at the screen as the dream played out on the screen. The rolling can of cheap pasta escalated into a swarm of floating shopping lists and a fleet of shopping carts. 

“Are they even trying anymore?” He riffed with a disbelieving laugh. 

A sudden vibration sound reached his ears. He elicited a shriek as he jolted in his seat. The curled nerve on top of his head stood as straight as a lightning rod. Fear exhaled. No one else should be up at this time of night, and he was certain that Nostalgia would not make this much noise when intruding on the main floor. The only possible source for the vibration was the special chair Joy brought for Anxiety after Riley returned from Hockey Camp-

Fear blinked in realization. He slowly swiveled his seat to find Anxiety, donned in her orange-and-white striped pajama gown and green slippers, lying down in her special chair. She wore a perturbed expression as her eyes were glued to the ceiling. There was no doubt that she was anxious over something. 

“Anxiety?” Fear asked. 

Anxiety’s eyes widened like a deer in headlights at the sound of her name. The moment she stared at Fear she began to panic. She banged the off button with her fist, stopping the vibrations. In great haste, she adjusted the seat to an upright position. Bolting out of the chair, she cautiously approached Fear, keeping her hands clasped together as she twisted her arms about. 

“I’m so, so sorry Fear,” Anxiety fervently apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dream duty. I want to go to sleep, but I can’t because I’m so worried about Riley’s Spanish test. I want to help her a-and I’ve been debating on whether she should study a little bit more or not.”

Fear empathetically gazed at Anxiety. He knew what it was like to feel unprepared in the face of uncertainty. But it was both his and Anxiety’s obligation to do their part to keep Riley on her toes for the things she can and cannot see. They were kindred spirits in that regard. They both played their part throughout the week to keep Riley in check as she studied for the big test. Earlier in the day, she spent three hours studying; two hours at the public library, thirty minutes before dinner, and thirty minutes before starting her bedtime routine. Fear was confident that Riley had a strong handle on the material and that she could ace the test. He had hoped that Anxiety felt a similar level of confidence as well. But as stared at Anxiety, he could tell that her mind was plagued with varying ‘what if’ outcomes of what could happen if Riley did poorly on the test. But Anxiety tended to focus on the worst-case scenarios, which only fueled her uneasiness. 

Anxiety began to pace around the room. “If she doesn’t pass the test, then this might snowball into horrific consequences for her academic future! Or her future in general!” 

Fear’s heart broke as he watched her get caught up in her whirlwind of worries. Now he felt compelled to help her out. Though part of him feared that he would say the wrong thing or make things worse, he still could not stand by and watch Anxiety suffer. 

He got up from his seat and cautiously approached her from behind. “Hey Anxiety,” he gently tapped her shoulder. 

Anxiety jumped a little at the soft touch. Fear felt a moment of apprehension, feeling that he made a miscalculated move. “Sorry!” He apologized. But when she turned around, her expression was a mix of somberness and yearning.

Fear mustered the courage to keep going. He placed his hand on her shoulder once more, thankful that she welcomed the gesture. “I understand your concern, and you did your best to help Riley stay on track for her upcoming test, but she needs to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow and so do you.”

“I know, I know,” Anxiety replied hastily. “But it’s just that I feel so overwhelmed,” she admitted as she began to tear up. “I want to help Riley do the best she can, but I don’t want to overdo it and hurt her again,” her voice began to crack. 

Fear sadly stared at Anxiety, even feeling himself tear up a little at how broken she sounded. “Come here,” he said softly. Opening his arms, he enveloped her in an embrace. 

He gently rubbed her back in a soothing motion, hoping it would help. To his surprise, he felt Anxiety wrapping her arms around him, tightening the hug. She elicited a choked sob before burying her face into his chest. 

Fear continued to embrace Anxiety as she dispelled her tears. He tried to come up with any comforting words, but he was drawing a blank. But then he decided it would be best to show that he cared through his comforting actions.

Soon enough, Anxiety’s heavy breathing eventually evened out and the tears lessened. She loosened her hold around Fear and slowly released herself from the embrace. Anxiety looked up at Fear, her green eyes now puffy. 

“Do you feel a little better now?” Fear gently asked. 

Anxiety nodded her head. “Yeah,” she confirmed, giving him a little smile. 

Fear smiled back at her, glad to hear that she was improving. “Do you want to talk about some potential solutions for Riley’s studying?” He inquired. 

Anxiety scrubbed the last of her tears from her eyes. “But what about dream duty?” 

They looked over to the screen only to find Riley watching a group of leotard-clad dancers resembling cats performing an elaborately choreographed dance number. 

“Well that took a bizarre turn,” Fear commented. He looked back at Anxiety and shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, it looks like the dream can take care of itself. You, on the other hand, are far more important.”

Anxiety smiled softly at the affirming words. Fear motioned over to her special chair. “Come on, let’s take a seat,” he said, giving her a gentle pat on the back. He sprinted over to his chair and dragged it over to meet with Anxiety who returned to her special chair. 

Fear placed the chair across from Anxiety so they could talk face-to-face and sat down. “You’re good at coming up with plans, Anxiety,” he complimented, matching his hands together and pointing them at her. “So what do you think Riley could do in the morning to ensure that she’ll do great on her test?” 

Anxiety moved her feet back and forth as she gazed at the floor. After a moment of pondering, she looked up at Fear. “Well…she could review the study guide on the car ride to school,” she began. 

“A most wise course of action,” Fear confirmed.  

“And she can read through it once more during homeroom,” Anxiety continued, sounding more confident. “Oh! And after the test, she can get a head start on her rough draft for the English essay that’s due in two weeks!” 

Fear’s face lit up as he snapped his fingers. “Now that sounds like a surefire plan for success!” 

Anxiety’s shoulders relaxed. “It feels good to have a plan.” 

Fear smiled back. “It does,” he agreed. 

But the smile vanished from her face, appearing apprehensive once more. Fear concernedly stared at her. “What’s wrong?” 

Anxiety took a deep breath. She placed her hand on her other arm and rubbed it soothingly. “I’m…I’m sorry for interrupting your dream duty and burdening you with my problems.” 

“Anxiety, you have nothing to apologize for,” Fear reassured her as he got up from his seat and moved closer to her. He knelt by her side. “And please don’t refer to yourself as a burden because you are a valuable member of the team.” Brushing aside his fears, he gently took her hand into his own. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come to me.” He said with conviction, despite his cheeks turning a darker shade of purple. “I care about you a lot and I want to help you. So if you feel overwhelmed, you can come to me and we’ll work through it together.” 

Anxiety looked at Fear’s hand. Though her cheeks heated up from the surprising gesture, she savored the comfort he provided her with. She threaded her fingers in between his and gave it a gentle squeeze before smiling back at him. 

“Thanks, Fear,” Anxiety said softly. “For everything.” 

Fear looked down at “I’m happy to help,” he confirmed. 

“So do you mind if I camp out on my special chair for the night?” Anxiety inquired. 

“Be my guest,” Fear replied. He then thought of an idea that could help Anxiety fall asleep faster. 

“You make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back,” he gently told her while patting her hand before releasing it from his grasp. 

Fear sprinted away from the main floor with a clear mission. He approached the bedroom and stealthily entered inside. Careful not to make any noise, he crept over to his bed and grabbed the essentials: a blanket, his favorite nightlight of the nine that illuminated his sleeping quarters, and his beloved teddy bear. With the items bundled in his arms, he returned to the control room, where Anxiety had already lit her lavender-scented candles and retrieved her sleep headphones. 

Fear approached Anxiety with the precious cargo. He clutched the star nightlight and his teddy bear to his chest as he gathered the soft blanket before offering it to Anxiety. She graciously accepted the blanket and placed it over herself. 

After plugging the nightlight on the wall, Fear approached her with the teddy bear. “I normally don’t do this, but tonight I shall bestow you with my nighttime companion.” He handed the teddy bear over to her. 

Anxiety gazed at the adorable plush bear in adoration. “I will protect this precious creature with my life!” She declared. 

“I hope that won’t be the case, but I commend the dedication,” Fear noted. 

Fear went over to dim the lights and returned to the console. “I’ll do my best to keep my riffing to a minimum and use my indoor voice,” he told her as he brought his chair back to the console. 

“Thank you Fear,” Anxiety said as she reclined the chair backward. 

“You’re welcome,” Fear replied before turning his attention to the screen. 

He continued to monitor the dream and was increasingly baffled by the story choices. Out of curiosity, Fear looked behind to find Anxiety fast asleep, clutching the teddy bear in her arms. She looked so calm and so…beautiful.

He smiled sweetly at her as the nerve on his head turned into the shape of a heart. Taking his hand, Fear pressed it to his lips and blew a kiss to Anxiety. “Sweet dreams, Anxiety.” 

To his surprise, he caught Anxiety’s lips curving into a small smile. 

The soft smile stayed on Fear's face as he swiveled the chair around to continue his job. Though the screen played out the ridiculous dream, the sight of Anxiety peacefully sleeping replayed in his head. He took another sip of his tea and smiled at the lovely sight.  

----------------

Anxiety opened her eyes to find herself on the special chair. She looked down to find Fear’s precious teddy bear safely tucked in her arms. She instinctively hugged the bear while making a note to acquire her own emotional support plushie. 

She looked over to see Fear propping himself up on the console, no doubt bored out of his mind from the mediocre dream. Anxiety cradled the bear in her arms as she stared at her kind coworker. Fear did so much for her last night and she wanted to return the favor. 

Gathering the blanket and teddy bear, the orange emotion took off her sleeping headphones and slinked off her special chair. Once she stood up, she grabbed the nightlight and discreetly pulled it off the electrical socket. With Fear’s possessions bundled in her arms, Anxiety tiptoed away from the main floor. 

She arrived at the sleeping quarters as the other emotions, save for Joy, were still in their slumber. Anxiety quietly moved over to Fear’s bunk. She plugged his favorite nightlight back into the outlet. Adjusting his pillow, she placed his teddy bear in place and tucked it in with his blanket. Smiling at her handiwork, she gave the teddy bear a couple of head pats before heading off to her bunk. 

Anxiety quickly gathered her clothes from her drawer. She moved into the closet, got herself dressed, and made her way over to the kitchen. 

As soon as she approached the doorway, she found a table filled with plates and a buffet of breakfast foods. Joy happily prepared scrambled eggs by the stove. The cheerful emotion turned around to find Anxiety standing by the doorway and smiled. 

“Oh, there you are, Anxiety!” Joy said sweetly as she scrapped the scrambled eggs onto a large plate. “I noticed that you weren’t in your bed and got worried.” 

“Sorry about that,” Fear replied as she cradled her hands together. “I had a little trouble falling asleep, but I moved over to the special chair.” 

Joy looked relieved. “That’s good. And Fear’s dream duty didn’t distract you?” 

“No, not at all!” Anxiety defended as she frantically waved her hands.  “Fear actually helped me out last night by talking to me and being there for me when I needed it most.” She clasped her hands together. “And I want to do something nice for him.” 

Joy smiled, glad to learn that Fear stepped up and helped Anxiety through her troubles and even more satisfied that Anxiety wanted to do something kind for him to show her gratitude. “Well, that’s very sweet of you, Anxiety,” She noted. 

Anxiety moved into the kitchen and scoured through the cupboards. She looked through the various flatware until she spotted a purple mug. “Aha!” She cheered as she brought it out and closed the cupboard door. Anxiety turned her gaze over to Joy. “So does Fear prefer coffee or tea in the morning?” 

“He normally drinks honey lemon tea,” Joy answered without hesitation. 

“Great!” Anxiety cheered. She turned her attention back to the cabinets. “Now where are the teabags located?” 

----------------

Fear propped his head in his hands, leaning on the console as he stared absentmindedly at the screen. Riley was now rowing a canoe with Bloofy and Pouchy as her companions. 

“I have lots of items!” Pouchy happily declared. “Which one do you think will work the best? A basketball? An avocado?” 

“A coherent script?” Fear tiredly riffed. Before Pouchy could offer the dynamite, the dream shut off. Riley woke up and turned to her alarm clock to find that it 6:00 AM. Her alarm would not go off for another half-hour, so she chose to lie back down. 

“Oh thank goodness, it’s over.” Fear exhaled. Grabbing the remote, he pressed the button which sounded the alarm for everyone to come to the control room. He let out a yawn and stretched out his arms. 

“Hi, Fear,” Anxiety called out as she popped up right next to him. Fear shrieked in surprise, clutching his hands against his chest and moving his chair backwards. Anxiety herself yelped and recoiled at the response. After realizing they unintentionally scared each other, they took a moment to calm down before apologizing to one another in unison. “I’m so sorry, Anxiety,” “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you-” 

But after hearing their words overlap, they stopped to look at one another. After a moment of silence, Fear was the first to speak up. “Did you sleep well last night?” 

“Yeah, I did, thank you,” Anxiety replied. “I, uh, want to give you something,” 

She took him by the hand and helped him to his feet. Fear stared at Anxiety’s hand while she led him to her special chair. On the nightstand, he noticed two hot mugs of tea (one purple and one orange) sitting next to each other. 

Anxiety let go of his hand and picked up the purple mug. “Here,” She quietly offered Fear the tea. Her eyes shyly darted toward the floor. “I...I wanted to thank you for helping me out last night.” 

"Oh thank you, Anxiety, that's very thoughtful of you," Fear said as he gingerly accepted the tea. He inhaled the sweet aroma of the honey lemon tea and blissfully sighed. A good cup of tea was a splendid reward for enduring a long night of dream duty. But if was extra rewarding coming from someone he deeply cared for. 

Fear looked at Anxiety. "So, are you ready to take on today?" 

Anxiety grabbed her mug of green mint tea. "Yeah, I'm ready to put our plan into action." 

The two shared a smile and clinked their mugs together. 

[starlight-write]

Attention Seeker

A/N: First TADC tk fic! lmk if you have any suggestions/prompts cause my brain is about fried atp.

Summany: Ragatha's ignoring Jax for being a prick. It's only after he brings Pomni into their little spat that she decides to do something about it.

Characters: Ler!Ragatha, Switch!Pomni, Switch!Jax

Word Count: 2004

Warnings: This is a tickle fic! Scroll if that's not your thing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Raaaags! Ragathaaaaa! Rags, talk to meeeeeee!" The rabbit whined pathetically as he flopped face first to the floor to add to his dramatics.

Ragatha crossed her arms and stared blankly in front of her. She'd be damned if she gave into his theatrics after the stunt he pulled yesterday.

Pomni tip-toed her way over to the doll, careful to gauge her mood before speaking up.

"You're- uh- still not talking to Jax, huh?" The jester tried.

To no one's surprise, Jax pulled some underhanded shit during yesterday's game. Thankfully, that game was more tame than the usual as Caine decided to make all of them play a rather distorted version of 'capture the flag', only the playing field was covered in thick black tar-like substance, which made the game slower and over all less fun but Caine did say he was experimenting with ideas.

Long story short, Ragatha had gotten the other team's flag and was about to win before Jax thought it'd be clever to use poor Gangle as a lasso and trip Ragatha by her ankle. Causing her to fall face first into the gooey substance.

So yeah, Ragatha understandably ignored the purple prick for the rest of the day and supposedly the silent treatment carried onto this morning.

Ragatha scoffed at the question. "I have nothing to say to that jerk. Whatever Caine has planned for us to do today, I'm not saying a word to him." She said making direct eye contact with said jerk. Pomni swore she saw his ears go down a bit.

They both knew that wouldn't last. If there's one thing anyone knew about Jax, is that he can't survive without attention. And Lord, was he the biggest attention seeker Pomni's ever seen. Jax would just dedicate the entire day to pushing Ragatha's buttons until she snapped, earning everyone's attention as well as winning whatever sick game he'd imagined in his head.

Caine appeared not two minutes later and the cast proceeded with their little theme song as usual and afterwards, the ringmaster explained the rules of today's little adventure.

Another safe one, thank God. Pomni thought. Perhaps the man was starting to notice how strung out everyone had become and decided to cut them some slack.

Today's game was a timed scavenger hunt throughout the circus, with two separate teams taking turns in the main room to find the mising items as quick as possible while the other team waited in the hallway for their turn. They were split up into two teams. Ragatha instantly grabbed Pomni's hand and not even a split second later, Jax flung himself at the doll and screamed for Caine to team them up together.

Gangle, Kinger, and Zooble's team went first, which meant the other three were poofed into a random hallway away from the action.

Awkward.

Pomni fidgeted due to the tense atmosphere. Jax of course, took his chance to bug the shit out of the other girl. First trying to make conversation, then teasing her, then poking, shaking, singing, yelling, joking, flopping round again, but nothing seemed to break the doll's focus. Ragatha rolled her eyes at his theatrics before shooting them over to Pomni.

"Sheesh, these games have been real tame and non life-threatening lately right, Pomni? Seems like Caine's finally decided to cut us all a break!" She forced a laugh as she nudged the other girl.

Pomni looked rather taken aback by the sudden conversations but decided to play along nonetheless. "O-oh. Right. I-uh, really enjoy not being in danger for once, yknow?" She laughed nervously.

The rabbit shot up as the two continued their bland conversation, annoyed that he was being ignored completely.

Pomni felt rather proud of herself when Ragatha laughed at one of her jokes, her victory was short-lived however, letting out a yelp as she was suddenly yanked in the air by her underarms.

"HEY!-" She panicked and squirmed, having to force down a rather embarrassing noise that threatened to come out of her throat.

"Whatcha two ladies talkin' about?"Jax had that stupid smug grin on he always wore when he thought he was being smart. Ragatha, obviously, was not amused but threw in the towel anyways as it wasn't fair to Pomni to get her any more involved with their little spat any more than she already was.

"Put her down, Jax." The doll demanded.

Pomni tried to grab at the rabbit's gloved hands as she kicked her feet in the air. "Whaaaaaat? We’re just having a little fun is all! Ain’t that right, Pomni?”

The jester grunted and allowed her limbs to go limp, it was obvious she wasn’t gonna get free by herself and didn’t want to risk entertaining the rabbit any further.

“This is not fun for me. Please put me doWN!!!-“

Pomni’s entire body went rigid as soon as that prick started wriggling his fingers under her arms.

She was able to keep her laughter in for all of maybe half a second before exploding in hysterical laughter. The awful sensation causing her to thrash almost twice as hard now.

“Why laugh if you’re not having any fun, Bug Eyes?” Jax laughed along with her, pleased with the strong reaction.

Ragatha was still stone-faced, however, sighing as she moved to release the other girl.

“Jeez you really can’t go five minutes without bullying someone can you?” The doll grunted as she wrestled with the rabbits long ass arms. Jumping in the air a few times when he decided to hold Pomni straight over his head.

Ragatha was getting increasingly annoyed, Pomni was getting more hysterical by the minute, and of course Jax looked like he was having the time of his life.

But you know what? Two can play at that game.

“Gohohod! You two are hilarious. Say Rags, this almost reminds me of the time Caine had you screaming in the air for saying- OOMF!”

The wind knocked out of Jax’s throat as he was full-on tackled to the floor.

Thankfully, this gave Pomni the chance to escape but was still on top of the rabbit’s hands as she tried to compose herself.

“What the &!$@%# Rags?! I was just messing around, there’s no reason to get all pis-“

“Hold his wrists, Pomni.”

That was all the warning they got before the doll’s hands latched onto Jax’s hips and began tickling him mercilessly.

The high pitch scream that tore from his throat probably would’ve made the jester fall into another fit of laughter if she weren’t so taken aback by it herself.

Thankfully she caught up to speed in time to get a hold of the rabbit’s hands that were desperately trying to free themselves.

“WAIT!!- WAIT WAHAHAHAIT!!!- RAGAHAHAHAHAAA-“

Oh my God he’s &!$@%# losing it. Pomni thought as she observed the poor guys reactions.

It was quite a sight to see fucking Jax of all people go berserk over something as simple as tickling. It was a little unnerving to be honest.

What was even scarier was Ragatha’s face hadn’t changed from the ice cold scowl she’s had on since Jax started all this shit.

She looked kinda angry.

“pleheheheAHAHAHA!!-“ Jax wheezed. “You cahAHAHAHAN’T- You cahahahahan’t just- BWAHAHAHAHAAA!!!-“

“Oh so it’s only fair for you to pick on people huh?” Ragatha spat. “Y'know I think everyone here’s had about enough of your &!$@%#, Jax. You wanted attention that bad? Well here you go! Let’s see how you like being bullied for once.”

Her hands migrated down to his upper thighs, the doll now settling her weight on his calves. Giving the rabbit just enough leeway to twist and buck his hips like crazy.

Though he seemed to be breathing a bit easier with the change in spots, didn’t mean he still wasn’t absolutely losing his mind here.

“ahh…ahahaHAHAHAHehe- ohkahahay! Okay! I’m sohohorry! Is that what you guys wanna hear?! I’ll bahahahack ohohoff. Juhuhust- JUST!!-“

“You sure all this is okay? He’s starting to seem a bit lightheaded.” Pomni asked, more than a little concerned at the guy’s state despite what he’d pulled earlier. She knew they didn’t technically need to breathe but that only means this situation must be really messing with him.

Ragatha looked up and stilled her hands before withdrawing them completely.

“Trust me, he’s fine. We’ve put his sorry ass through a lot worse. And he would’ve kept tormenting you until Caine came in to stop him so he deserves everything he gets.” She explained as she got up from her spot on Jax’s legs and made her way over to where Pomni was stationed over their victim’s head.

The brief intermission allowed Jax to gather his bearings and a bit of his audacity too it seemed like.

“Yohohou…*huff*… You two are going to regret this. D-Dohohohon’t think for a second that you won anything. After all there’s plenty of centipedes for me to-AAAAA!!!!”

That ungodly shriek was almost worse than the first one. The jerk didn’t even get to finish his little vow for revenge before Ragatha dropped back down to scribble, squeeze, and prob rapidly over her victim’s belly.

“I know you can’t fathom the feeling, Jax, but I was going to be nice and call it quits there. But you just don’t know when to. Shut. Your. TRAP!!”

Pomni couldn’t help herself from laughing this time. With nothing pinning the poor guy’s legs down, they were flying through the air in every direction while he screamed like a little girl.

Seriously, Pomni doubted even she could reach that kind of pitch.

The whole things was just ridiculous to watch. She was sure her ears were bleeding by now but she couldn’t help the full on belly laughter that forced its way out of her.

Ragatha looked over at her friend as she doubled over in laughter. It was at that point, Ragatha truly realized how ridiculous this entire situation was and that scowl she had permanently plastered on her face finally bloomed into a smile as she too began to laugh.

Another ear-piercing screech and they were both done.

The two of them simultaneously lost their hold on their victim as they fell to the floor, rolling and clutching their stomachs as bouts of laughter poured out of them.

Jax layed there for a while, absolutely mortified at this entire ordeal. He began plotting his revenge almost immediately, if only to keep himself sane while hearing those two &!$@%# laugh at him.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t fond of all the attention he received.

Just as the girl’s laughter was starting to die down, a voice boomed through the hallway.

“Terribly sorry for the wait, friends! It appears that there’s been a rather embarrassing oversight on my part! You see, I told the others that I’ve hidden five items but instead only hid four! The fifth one was in my POCKET!-“

Caine explained as he pulled a rubber duck out of his pocket. Stopping himself abruptly seeing the state his other three guests were in.

Was it that funny? The ringmaster asked himself at hearing the two girl’s laughter finally dying down. That was before he saw Jax, still sprawled out on the floor and decided he didn’t really want to know.

“Does this mean we forfeit?” Jax slurred lazily.

“Nonsense!” Caine announced, deciding to ignore the his guest’s disappointed groans. “This just means we have to start a new game! You all seemed to LOVE playing ‘Capture the Flag’ yesterday! So I thought, why not give it another GO-“

Ragatha threw her shoe at the ringmaster before he even finished his statement. Of course, this prompted another bout of laughter from both Pomni and Jax this time.

Unfortunately, Caine took all of that as enthusiasm and prepared their little field from yesterday.

Pomni wasn’t certain if those two were gonna bring their bad energy back on the field, not to mention Jax was no doubt itching for payback right about now.

One thing was for certain, though. Pomni was staying the &!$@%# out of it this time.

[rindragon-from-twewy]

Forte swap au character intros part 2!!!

I love these so much genuinely I'm just so happy with where my art style's been at recently!

Ok I have a lot to say so it's under the cut. Remember; Spoilers for the og story!

I'll go from right to left since that's the order I designed them in (buckle in, this is a long one-)

Fubuki now has Spectral Projection. I liked the idea of giving it to her as she and Vivia are basically polar opposites so giving her his forte would really shake things up. Instead of calling her "Princess" and stuff, I think people would rather call her "Sleeping Beauty" and the themes of that fairy tale would end up seeping in to chapter 4, as well as its mystery labyrinth. Her hair flower is now a rose as a further reference to that. I used nightwear as references for her clothes, imagining them mostly being made out of more silky fabrics for that "rich girl" aura. I kept her hair down and messy and really just focused on making her look comfy. After all, if she's sleeping all the time, she should be in the appropriate attire for doing so, no? But thankfully The Chief gave her some wellie boots so she's not running around the city in soggy slippers. Her tattoos are now a string of stars on her collar bones to further emphasise the idea of dreams/sleep and also the "Z" in her name stands for "Zzz" because I thought they'd be funny. The last name "Bramble" is not only another reference to roses and sleeping beauty but also to Bram Stoker, the author of Dracula because yes, the vampire themes have been ripped away from Vivia and given to Fubuki instead!

Moving on to Halara- I knew right away that by giving them Time Leap, I should make them look more like a time traveller. Initially I wanted to try to make them look like they'd fit in well with the line up for the various Doctors in Doctor Who but unfortunately I couldn't figure out a way to do that without just... putting them in one of the outfits. So I instead decided to use steampunk as a main reference. I like to think that they stare at their pocket watch just to ignore people or as a passive aggressive way of telling them that they're wasting time. Their shoulder tattoo is meant to vaguely resemble an hour glass since that seemed appropriate. I had no idea what I wanted to do for their shirt under their coat so I settled on that black turtleneck tank top that makes the fangirls go crazy and made sure to give them Fubuki's necklace so that they can use their forte! The hardest part was deciding to give Halara goggles instead of glasses. They just seemed wrong without their glasses but it was just as wrong to have glasses and goggles? And so I settled on no glasses. (Mostly cuz I forgot to add them in and by then, I was used to looking at their empty face lol-) When they first arrived in Kanai Ward, Chief gave them the frilliest umbrella at the store because it had the same colours as their coat. Lastly, for their name chance, I changed it to "Clocksmith". It's the name of the profession for a watch mender, similar to Clockford and also "Smith" is the last name The Doctor uses when he needs to use a fake human name.

I'll be deadass, I did Vivia's design at like 3am and was running purely on vibes. So there isn't much perpousful intention behind him like the others. His hair now covers his left eye to make using Post Cognition much easier (sometimes it just activates on its own thanks to his eye already being obscured) but just underneath it you can see his tattoo; a big purple tear streak. I think I was watching a fnaf video at the time so. Marionette reference. Now you may be asking: Why is his hoodie so cropped? Why are his trousers so low cut? Idk- because I think it looks cool? I probably should've (and will in future) give him more bandages around his torso cuz looking at it now, that's not really that many. His big sleeves cover his hands and yes, I know that combining those sleeves with that stances just screams "Hatsune miku", that was completely accidental but I'm kinda here for it??? Gave him like 9 belts cuz I like drawing belts and I feel like his suicial ass would've been put in a real straight jacket at least once. People probably aren't sure if he's a real human entity anymore so Shinigami would probably call him a zombie. But nevertheless, The Chief makes sure he eats something at least once a day cuz his rib cage is definitely visible. For his last name, I changed Twilight to Midnight because it's got the "night" from Halara's "Nightmare" while still being a time of day.

And that's about it. Wow that's... a lot. Honestly if I didn't aspire to be a show runner, I'd probably settle for being a character designer. I'm super excited to show off what I've got in store of this AU's storyline but I've still gotta introduce a couple other characters first! ^vO