#i need a better word than canons though. just lore?

[fallenclan]

random cat-specific headcanons

or i guess. canons. since im the guy who made the clan.

-silverbelly is extremely soft on any cat/kit that joined the clan young. especially if they're around the same age she joined the clan, 3 moons. she always takes extra care to show them around camp and assure them if they ever need medical attention she wants them to come and tell her, and she promises she'll help. because of this, a lot of cats who joined the clan young are also very soft on her in return, and will sometimes just come to the medicine den to hang out.

-Wormshade has TERRIBLE allergies. the worst. in newleaf his nose gets extremely itchy and he keeps scratching it even when Flyspots keeps telling him not to. sometimes it makes the scar on his nose hurt from all the itching, poor fella. his kids (Beefreckle & Mothspots) make fun of him endlessly for this.

-on the topic of FlyWorm. flyspots absolutely BEGGED wormshade to name their kits after bugs when they came along. wormshade wanted to name one of them after Nick, but agreed that Nickkit was a weird name and they went with bugs instead.

-Maplestar & Applebranch both forget that Honeygleam is dead sometimes. every so often they'll be hanging out and instinctively go to say something to him and find he isn't there.

-Silverbelly still has some of the dried herbs that were always stuck in Stormsight's pelt. she found them on her fur after the vigil and tucked them away in a little crevice. sometimes when she's really missing him she'll lie down and rest her face on them.

-about 80% of the clan is under the impression that Juniperfoot, Myrtleclaw, and Sandsnap are dating. this includes Ospreyswipe (Juniper's brother).

-when Hawkwish lost her leg, Applebranch helped her with her physical therapy, giving her tips on how to improve her balance after losing a limb. this brought them really close, and now sometimes Hawkwish will go to the elder's den after a long day and hang out with her grandma, who is happy to listen to her vent, chatter on about nothing, or just sit in silence and wash her granddaughter's ears.

-Eaglestripe & Hawkwish were never very close to Rabbitpounce. he didn't mean to have kits with Molesong, and (with Molesong's permission) wasn't really interested in raising them. he was more like the socially awkward uncle to them than a dad. despite this, Rabbitpounce was the one who gave Eaglestripe her full name when she went to receive it at the glow-cave.

-Willowsplash and Bub are the WORST EVER cats to get in an argument with (closely followed by Bluefern, Evie, & Newtscar). they will not only verbally tear you to shreds (backing each other up the entire time) but they find any and all attempts at retaliation funny. absolutely infuriating couple that loves to get silly with it.

-Bluefern and Newtscar were best friends since they were kits. they grew up in the nursery together, and then they were apprentices together. when Evie joined the clan, they would sometimes laugh about how they both had a crush on him, and along the way, they realized they both had a crush on each other, too. they became mates with the hope that Evie would soon join them.

-Waspflight often feels overshadowed by her siblings, but covers up this insecurity with an energetic personality, and lots and lots of jokes. she had a little crush on Salmonskip when they were apprentices, but grew to see her more as a sister when Salmon and Moosefall started to date.

-Mossfrog isn't sure how she feels about possibly being deputy one day. she knows that a lot of the clan expects her to, since she was always a prodigy and graduated so early, but she's terrified of the idea of being in charge of an entire clan, even if she does like the idea of being able to look after them. sometimes she wishes she could be deputy without the expectation of being leader.

-most of the cats around his age have a crush on Myrtleclaw. hes charming like that.

-out of all of her siblings, Hailcrash was always the least close with Moonstep. they got along, sure, but they weren't best friends--despite this, she still relies on him a lot, even if she's a little older than him (Moonstep is the youngest of all Toro's kits).

-Maplestar was always the leader of the bunch (the bunch being him, Honeygleam, Applebranch, Silverbelly, & Dawnshine) when they were young. he was the most mature, and a good decision maker, so he often found himself reining in Honey, Dawn, and Apple's chaos, and stepping up when Silver was too shy to. because of this, they would sometimes jokingly call him Maplestar. Applebranch always secretly thought he'd make a great leader; turns out she was right.

-Boulderstep still sometimes worries that clanborn Fallenclan cats don't trust him, since he came from a clan that was, at the time, at war with them. Fallenclan is on better terms with Shallowclan now, but he still makes a point to avoid their borders, and not mingle with any Shallowclan cats at gatherings.

-on the topic of gatherings. the first gathering that Maplestar attended as leader, he almost called it quits and went home. he still thinks that he's never felt as awful as he did in that moment, as all the clans watched him step out of the crowd and jump to the top of the gathering rock, where his father had stood for as long as most cats could remember. the only thing that kept him there was Applebranch grinning at him from the crowd, even as she cried.

-though Sorrelstem still misses Otterslip, the memory of him has become less soft over time. she never went out looking for him (though she often wanted to), but she always told her kits that he was on the right side of history. sometimes, as time went on, she wondered if that was true.

-Teddyfluff was glad that Otterslip got exiled. he gave him the creeps. he would rather die than admit this to his beloved wife.

-Crowflame tries not to show it, but sometimes he's insecure about his scars. he's easily the most scarred cat in the clan, and some cats (especially kits and apprentices) will stare at him, or make a remark. Blizzardfang (his mate) has become excellent at figuring out when he's feeling especially awful. if complimenting how handsome he looks that day doesn't work, she'll simply stand on his scarred side and press up against him until her fur covers the injury. he pretends to be mad, but secretly loves being close to her.

-Yewberry has a very short temper. Brambletuft has helped him soften it a little, but he still finds himself set off by some things--particularly if any cat brings up Otterslip. he'll snap at them to shut up and forget about the past, and usually stalk off. more lighthearted things that make him mad are when Ivybounce calls him "little brother" (he's only a few minutes younger, thank you very much) or when people laugh about how much bigger Brambletuft is than him (he is NOT that small. fuck you).

i will be doing more of these. peace & love forever

[togeblurbs]

Do You Miss Us?

Five Hargreeves x F!Reader - angst with a happy ending (yeah… happy ish ending)

synopsis: when you find out Five and Lila kissed, you don’t know what to feel. All you know is that you need to get away. Because it was one thing for them to kiss, and another to realize that in the time spent apart, Five Hargreeves may not love you anymore.

content/warnings: hints of anxiety, curse words, cheating, s4 spoilers, mentions of disassociation, morally grey characters, not lore accurate, not really canon, doesn’t focus on the plot moreso reader & fives relationship, lmk if i forgot anything

“Y/n, please,”

you continue walking, wiping away the incessant tears that stream down your face. you feel nauseas, and your chest hurts in a way that it pains you to breathe.

he catches your wrist in his hand, and you turn around, angered. “What? What could you possibly say that would make this better, Five?”

he looks distraught, if not more than you and the thought has your hands shaking in fury. for what reason did he have to be so upset? you weren’t the one who disappeared for a few hours - which ended up being seven years - and then kissed another person.

“I fucked up, I didn’t… You don’t understand, I was losing my mind.” he slips his hand from your wrist to intertwine your fingers, but you shake his grip off in disgust. he looks at you so brokenly at the action, you almost feel bad.

but then you remember her, and you feel the bile rise to your throat once more. “I don’t understand?” you say slowly, taking a step forward.

you point at him, “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. I knew some shit was going on between you two, with your secrets and odd glances. But I trusted you, Five. You know why?”

he looks at you with wide eyes, seeming almost unsettled by your outburst. “Because I loved you.” you whisper.

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you wipe the remnants of your tears. “But that didn’t matter in the end. You were alone with her for seven years, so it makes sense. I wish you nothing but happiness, Five. Even if it’s away from me.”

you turn, moving to walk again, but he crashes into you from behind and wraps his arms around you. “Please,” his hands are trembling where they rest on your stomach, and although you want to soothe him, you don’t think you are in the place to at the moment.

you take a shaky deep breath, before carefully untangling his hands from your torso. he whimpers pitifully at the action, and you have to stop yourself from giving in and drawing him closer.

you used to bring him comfort, give him love and make him feel safe; but it seemed it was not enough; because in the end he chose someone else.

you turn back around, “I need some time alone right now, Five.” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, ripping the skin. you don’t want to look at his face, so you choose to stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

Five lifts his hand for a moment, before dropping it. “Will you come back?” his voice has never sounded so childlike; as though he can’t bear the thought of you leaving and never coming back.

you swallow harshly, “I’ll come back.”

he nods, his own arms wrapping around himself.

“I just don’t know if it will be for you.”

you take a chance and glance at his face, hating the way your heart hurts when his expression crumples.

back in the room, you were so sure he was in love with Lila, but now you’re starting to doubt yourself. because if he truly felt something for her, would he really be crying in front of you right now?

you don’t know. you also don’t feel like you have it in you to make any assumptions.

you turn around, your back facing Five. “I’ll see you later. Don’t follow me.”

and with that, you walk out of Five’s life, unknowingly carrying his heart with you.

-

Five lays in a bed - not his, for years it’s never been his - and recounts the last seven years.

he remembers missing you immensely in the beginning. for the first three years, you were all he could think about.

and then his friendship with Lila began to grow. the time he wished to spend with you, he was now spending with her. it was odd at first, because the two were not close friends of any sort. but when you’re trapped in a different time-line, or different universe, you become allies with those you normally wouldn’t.

somewhere along the way, they had provided one another with the comfort they lacked from their significant others.

it wasn’t supposed to end up that way. it wasn’t.

but now Five can’t get the way you looked at him out of his head; it was like he physically shot you in the chest, or told you he didn’t love you. like he betrayed you.

he grasps at his own chest, curling up into a ball beneath the covers. he feels like he’s going to die.

and maybe that would be for the best. he’s lived a long, torturous life. with a nut-job for a father, siblings that were always thinking about themselves and a lover who he’d ruined everything with, what was the point of life anymore?

its been a month since Five had seen you, and the ache in his chest has yet to go away. he couldn’t find it in himself to eat, often laying in bed as Luther force-fed food down his throat in fear that he would truly pass away.

it’s just another late night, and Five takes the time to stare at the broken glass window as the sun begins to set. the only sound in the room comes from the clock, the constant ticks helping him disassociate and think about you.

he distantly hears the door creak open, but is too exhausted to look at who it is. he doesn’t really care anyway, because he knows it’s not going to be you.

“Five?”

he blinks slowly. it almost sounded like you, but he figured he was hearing things at this point.

“Five,” he feels a hand smooth over his shoulder. gentle in a way he’d only ever experienced with you. his head turns, if only slightly, and he catches sight of your concerned face.

his eyes widen, he forces himself to sit up even if his arms have little to no strength left. “What are you… what are you doing here?” he croaks.

you sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. it’s far too away from Five, he wants to pull you in the bed and bring you into his arms.

“Should I leave?” you glance at the door for a second, but Five immediately grabs onto your hands and shouts, “No! No, please. Please stay.”

you look shocked at his outburst, nodding softly.

the silence in the room is deafening, but Five is merely happy you’re there. Seven years and then some apart from you was not easy, and after his last conversation with you, he knows he’ll feel unsettled until he makes it right. if he can make it right.

“I did some thinking.” you start, cautious.

Five watches you with fear, scared to hear your next words.

“I’m not angry anymore. I understand you went through a lot being trapped again, and I can’t blame you for falling in love with Lila since she was there for you. I do wish you broke it off with me before kissing her, but what’s done is done.”

your voice comes out stable, like you’ve thought it all through and are content to leave things as they are. but Five is shaking his head the moment you say the word love and Lila in the same sentence, because that could not be more far from the truth.

“Wait, please stop it,” he begs, seeming desperate.

“I understand why you might think that way, but I do not love Lila.” he feels lighter with the words being spoken. he’s been aching to clarify this the moment you found out they kissed, but hasn’t had the chance.

your brows furrow, and you pick at the cotton sleeve of your hoodie. “Um, I see.” you look so confused, he can’t help but move closer to you.

you look at him, body rigid. you don’t seem comfortable around him anymore, and the thought has him clutching his chest in pain.

“Y/n, I love you.”

you recoil immediately, and it prompts Five to reach out instinctively.

the words tumble out of his mouth, like he’s scared you’re going to run before he can finish getting everything out. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Lila and I.. when we, you know, it was a moment of weakness after losing you and being trapped again. I wished every day that I could see you, but I was stuck.”

you move to stand, and a part of Five’s heart breaks for what he thinks will be the last time ever. because if you walk out of this room, he knows he won’t be able to love again. you are it for him, and if he doesn’t have you, then he’d rather stay alone for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I need you to know that I love you.”

at the end of his little speech he breathes out, listening to his heart thump loudly in his ears.

it’s odd, he thinks. love has always been so painful, so destructive. but with you it was simple. it was calm, steady and soft. he wonders; he hopes, that he’ll be able to experience it again. after all, a healthy type of love was rare for his kind.

he watches you walk closer, reaching a hand out and placing it on his cheek. he leans into it, closing his eyes as he missed your touch immensely. you use the other hand to push his hair back, planting a kiss on his forehead.

his eyes shoot open at the feeling, and he stares at you in wonder. he begins to feel hope bubble in his chest.

“You love me?” you ask quietly.

he nods, “Only you. Only ever you.”

you exhale, shoulders drooping as you move to sit beside him. you wrap an arm around his waist and one on his neck, pulling him down as you lay on the small bed. his head falls to your neck, and he sneaks a small kiss in, hoping you won’t push him away.

“I can’t promise that i’ll forgive you completely. At least not right now. And I’ll probably hate Lila forever, but I don’t think I can walk away from you knowing you love me.”

you run a hand through his hair, feeling him nod into the space between your head and your shoulder. “I know, I completely understand.”

you pat his head gently, staring up at the ceiling.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t think I ever won’t.”

he rubs his face into your neck, and you feel something wet touch it. you card your fingers through his hair once more, cooing.

“Thank you,” his voice comes out shaky, but he hopes you hear the sincerity.

you shift the two of you until you’re underneath the covers, cradling him in your arms with his head on your chest. “Don’t thank me yet. I will be making out with Diego as revenge.”

Five lifts his head, “What?!”

sorry if this is ooc:>

[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know. 

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls Lore Concept- The Oracle and Bill

The Oracle:

I was initially inspired by the Twitter user @SUwu159's depiction of the Oracle in their take on Relativity Falls, and made my own adaptation as I learned about her in canon.

(Assume she can change colors because I couldn't pick what I liked most)

This version of The Oracle isn't malicious per se, and does not desire the same conquest or chaos sought out by Bill. But she likes universes to be organized and quaint (or answers to another high power that demands it), and finds fulfillment in achieving these goals through any means necessary.

The Oracle and Dipper:

(Sorry if this dialogue tastes like a corndog in your mouth. I just needed to write a semi-resolution to Dipper's side of the relationship, ha.)

Getting into the real struggle with the Pines family. Dipper and Mabel don't fight and hold grudges like the Stans (that we've seen of), so my opinion is that they drifted apart in their late teens and twenties, both feeling pressured to be less attached at the hip. My current belief (though I'm very willing to rewrite this section) is that Mabel and Dipper both poured a lot of energy into pretty niche fields, and being very busy meant very short and rare windows to reach out. Both assumed the other was doing bigger and better things and felt self conscious / childish for wanting eachother's company.

I'm still considering Mabel's backstory, since I think she probably hit lower points than Dipper. You know. Starving artist, lol. But Dipper entered into paranormal investigation, pest control, etc. before his ghost + monster catching went far enough for his name to gain some notoriety. Hell, maybe Pacifica's family reached out to him to take care of "rats" that were actually ghosts, cementing his interest in Gravity Falls and giving him a window inter supernatural work.

Dipper was taken on as something of an apprentice to the Oracle 30ish years before canon as word of his good and dangerous deeds spread. However, what was at first a personal dream come true (saving lives with nerd magic) soon became a personal hell as the Oracle began to overwhelm Dipper with knowledge of various futures and universes where everything he cared about could be destroyed. He's always been over prepared and incredibly paranoid, and became obsessed with protecting the world by acting as a partner to the Oracle.

He ends up doing- or not doing- a lot of morally ambiguous things and gaining a lot of enemies. He is too ashamed to face his family- especially Mabel- with what he's done and burden them, giving the Oracle more to use against him to keep him working for her. Basically "you've already done all this and risked it all, there's nowhere to go if you stop now." Eventually this ends in her seeing him fit for her work and convincing him to hide out in and save other universes, which he gets trapped doing for the next three decades.

Little throw away idea: Pacifica could have been an investor or partner, but left as they uncovered secrets about the Northwest family. Maybe she wanted to undo something (debating making any of the Oracle's powers time related just because I hate time travel) or stop a current show of corruption, but Dipper had to stop her for the "greater good."

In the main universe, Mabel goes to Gravity Falls upon news of her brother's disappearance, searching for any loose end to trace back to him.

I love that in canon, Dipper is willing to do anything for Mabel, and Mabel gives it back. Dipper here spends all of his life keeping as many versions of her as safe as he can, and she spends all her life trying go seek him out- maybe even dropping a larger opportunity outside of Gravity Falls for her art and settling on business at the shack. Dipper wants Mabel alive, Mabel wants them both happy. I like the idea that it's Dipper and Mable vs. The Future but the future is a demon, alien thing.

Which leads me to...

Bill Cipher:

I'm actually gonna cover a couple versions of Bill I think are fitting for this AU, because I initially wasn't sure if I wanted him here at all.

Child Bill:

Pretty straight forward. Bill as a baby, child thing is tempting and this is the au where he'd exist. Personally though, I think Ford's friendship with Fidds would be more enriching to his growth, and Bill's personality is so close to Stan's they would likely be competing to fill very similiar roles. (If Bill behaves differenty as kid, I don't know about it.) Honestly, Bill is super similiar to Ford and Stan, and works better as a kind of foil or antagonist because of that (imo). I do find the mental image of Ford carrying Bill around funny. I do not enjoy human bill like, conceptually, so I'm probably never gonna design one as an adult or child, lol.

It would be cool to see a world where Bill didn't accidentally kill his parents though.

Bill - Reincarnated Original

Technically I guess they could all be reincarneted (especially baby Bill), but this version of Bill experienced and holds memories of the original canon events in GF. Beings like Bill and the Oracle can remember recent/soon approaching lives, and catch glimpses of more distant cycles as well.

What I like about Bill's recent role as an antagonist to Ford and Stan is that he constantly describes them in the terms of their worst traits, and sees them through the lens of the roles the world placed on them. In this AU, Bill is the epitome of the past (in this case a past life) coming back to bite the twins. He rattles their progress in communication as well as their sense of inner peace by bringing old Glass Shard Beach issues into Gravity Falls.

(Depicted here-> moments after Ford summons Bill using the same ritual as Gideon.)

The drawback to this is that it feels a lot like covering old ground.

Simply Bill:

This is pretty much just regular old Bill with the same fresh perspective as everyone else, and also the one I'm going with. He tried and failed to get Dipper's trust in the past and had to lay low at the arrival of the Oracle. Once they left, Bill targeted Mabel. I think it could be very interesting for Mabel and Bill to either have a fresh relationship wherein Bill is actively taking advantage of her desperation to find Dipper, or for Bill to be an old betrayal (not romantic, but not dissimilar to the opportunistic exes Stan and Ford have to be wary of and beat back under the rug regardless).

Either he shows himself to Mable early on, or decides that Gravity Falls is both Oracle-free and worth the time after either Ford or Mable summon him. Afterall, 30 years isn't much to him.

Maybe he exists in the background like he's always done, or the kids (being snoopy and disrespectful of Mabel's secrets) discover what Mabel's doing and run into him on their own.

Whether Bill is aware of the original series or not, I think he could be neat to stick in between Stan and Ford again for conflict. My favorite aspect about Relativity Falls is the prospects of the Stans having a larger support system and better tools to help themselves with. Beating Bill faster and better would be the ultimate testament to Mabel and Dipper's skills as functioning role models, even if Mabel is currently blinded by her focus on Dipper.

Stan and Ford will fight and they will make up, but this time maybe they can overcome it on their own.

I also think a good idea is having Ford and Stan's issues be completely Bill free (outside of like an episode or two's worth of relevance, unless he put them into a particularly stinging situation). It would feel fresher and also streamline the plot, lol.

Overview:

- Dipper is stuck travelling the multiverse with the Oracle and keeps himself sane by thinking of Mabel and protecting various versions of her.

- Mabel is investigating his disappearance in Gravity Falls and is working on a portal/portal equivalent with Bill to bring him back.

- The kids may or may not be aware of this.

Looking at the main series of events, I think it'd be neat go back to the apprenticeship conflict, where Ford could be approached by the Oracle (or something else that makes sense) with the promise of being a "hero," but knows better now because of Dipper and his experiences with Bill. It's kind of a more convoluted version of Ford's proposal to Dipper in canon, and they basically learn the same thing, lol. You can hang out with ghosts if you want, but demons are gonna get you. Maybe being a child with siblings is all you need.

(Stan could also be offered this, given the Oracle already knew he- or at least someone with his face- would beat Bill, but I think it's well established he isn't very interested in doing anything without family.)

All in all, things might be a bit crowded with two antagonists. But I do like the concept of Bill's arrival and subsequent chaos triggering Dipper and the Oracle's return to Mabel's dimension. I also love the idea of Bill, the Oracle, and some secret third thing all trying to pull the Pines family apart, and it's like a Man vs. God turned into a Family vs. Destiny thing, idk. Just trying to make it feel bigger.

Thank you for reading all this. It was a lot to draw. Next time I do anything for Relativity Falls, I'm gonna go back to the smaller things like Mabel bonding with the kids and stuff like that.

[dulc3vida]

you.

rafe cameron x bunny!reader

part 1. this is my au so don't think too much about canon lore. characters, times, events, ect... might not match but PLEASE JUST ENJOY THE STORY PLEASE JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASe

warning: 18+ read at your own risk. this is a dark fic loosely inspired by the tv show you. dubious content lies ahead, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

UNC Chapel Hill: September, Sophomore Year

there was nothing rafe cameron hated more than being tutored. it made him feel stupid, needing someone to explain and break down concepts that others understood easily. ward used to lose his mind trying to find rafe new tutors because in all honesty, when rafe felt cornered or helpless, he got nasty. saying the rudest things that made these well-paid, private tutors basically discard a paycheck, was one of the first times rafe ever felt true power. the first time he ever came close to knowing what his dad felt like, even though his dad had a much better reputation than rafe ever would.

rafe especially hated english. the books were boring and he could never be bothered to sumbit more than a half baked essay regarding the text. that's how he ended up in the study room in the library sitting across from you. he remembered you from class, the TA. you always sat besides prof. callahans desk and you looked younger than any TA he had ever had, probably even his age. your face was familiar but rafe couldn't put his finger on it. you were clean, you smelled good, and your nails were done which meant you had the time and money to take care of that kind of thing when most college students forget to feed themselves. you occasionally looked up from the signup sheet as the minutes ticked 5 past 3pm, where only rafe's name was signed.

"i guess we can start now." you mumbled, flipping your notebook open. "this weeks quiz is going to cover part 1 of crime and punishment. have you... started the reading?"

rafe's hard gaze bored into yours and he shook his head without another word. he was thinking about how cute and neurotic the way you had your notes organized was and how soft you spoke to him. were you scared of him? rafe was intrigued.

"okay, no biggie. we can just start there. did you check out a copy of the book?" you asked, pulling out your own copy that was bursting at the seam with sticky notes and colored tabs. again, rafe wordlessly shook his head. "good thing we're in the library. come on, let's go see if they have any left."

rafe followed close behind you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck as you walked through rows of books before finding the one you were looking for. you showed rafe how to check a book out before returning to the study room. "okay. let's start."

you began dissecting the book from the very beginning, soft voice describing the historical context of the book. rafe was surprised at how well he was keeping up. it didn't hurt that you were cute, nose all blushed and button, scrunching up whenever you couldn't read your own handwriting in your notes. a pair of clear framed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose which you constantly adjusted due to your eyelashes hitting the glass. you had a habit of licking and biting your lips, applying lipgloss on every "brain break" as you called it. maybe all this time, all he needed was a cute tutor that he could stand looking at.

in between writing notes and flipping through the book, he caught glimpses of a "j" necklace dangling in your cleavage. did your name start with a j?

"what's your name?" rafe asked once the two of you began packing your things up. it was now 7:30 with the sun beginning to set. you told him and he repeated it under his breath.

"my friends call me bunny though." if you're bunny, who is j? you tossed your bag over your shoulder and let your hair down from the claw clip that was holding it up. it billowed over your shoulders and you tucked a few stray strands behind your ears after taking your glasses off. you weren't the shy good girl he met at the beginning of the session, no, you were different. good girl in front of everyone but he knew there was another energy in you that he wanted- no he needed to see. rafe watched you leave, staying a few steps behind, where he could comfortably watch you and before he knew it, you were jumping into the passenger side of a beat up old brown van that pulled up, and leaning over to give whoever was driving a kiss.

rafe felt a familiar, red hot anger wash over him. the first time he felt that anger was when sarah was born and ward wouldn't stop fawning over her. ward basically forgot he had a son when sarah was born which made rafe incredibly insecure. that insecurity built a home inside rafe's heart, where any little inconvenience could turn it into an ugly monster with sharp teeth and a desire to tear everything in sight into fucking pieces. this time, the monster was awakened at the reality of you having a boyfriend.

against his better judgement, rafe ran to his truck the second you took off, speeding down the road he saw you drive down. it took him a minute, but he managed to find the shitbox on wheels you were riding around in. he made sure to stay far enough away to where it didn't seem suspicious, but close enough to where he wouldn't lose you again.

he wouldn't lose you again.

he repeated that phrase to himself as he drove into jacksonville and while he parked his car a few spaces from the van in a place where your little group was fully visible. you came to the beach. there was 3 guys, 1 girl, and you. gone were your leggings, tank top, and cardigan. instead, you donned a pair of cutoff jean shorts, a bikini top, and a huge smile on your face as you settled yourself in the blonde boys lap.

rafe thought he recognized the group you were with, but he was hoping his eyes were just playing tricks. of course, it could never be that simple because rafe did know them. the pogues. what were they doing on the mainland? he hadn't seen them in a while and was getting used to not having to see or smell them other than when he went home for holidays.

jj, he knew worked in the cafeteria ever since he graduated earlier in the spring, which is probably how he met you. rafe had never been fond of jj, in fact, rafe lived to antagonize jj back on the island (if he cared for the cafeteria food, he would probably be in there a lot more to mess with him) so him having you felt like poorly timed karma. to be completely honest, rafe hadn't expected such a dramatic shift of power dynamics when coming to college because now there was at least 10 other rafe's who were dating the girls he should have been dating. he did just fine at parties, more than fine, but he was starting to get tired of drunk girls who just lied there all limp and sweaty or threw up on his dick (happened twice freshman year and he didn't enjoy it like he thought he would). the first decent, eligible girl he meets is getting her pussy dug out by jj maybank of all people and it felt like someone, somewhere was laughing at his misfortune. it almost made him want to give up on you.

almost.

he would never let jj maybank win at anything, let alone your heart. there was just something about you that he couldn't let go. the only thing he couldn't figure out was why everyone else was here too? none of them had a chance of getting into chapel hill. you either had to have perfect grades, be incredibly wealthy, or be a legacy student. thankfully, rafe managed to be 2/3 of those things.

rafe sat back in his seat and just observed you. he cracked his windows open and tried to listen to your conversation but he was too far to hear anything other than laughter and unintelligible voices. he pulled his phone out and typed your name into instagram, easily finding your very public page.

rafe decided to do some digging. he would start at the bottom. scrolling all the way back through a very curated feed (rafe could tell you pick and choose which of your old posts get to stay up and which ones ruin the feed) rafe felt his heart sink.

he knew you.

OBX: Summer 2018

"come on, bunny, i don't wanna go without you." your friend, esther, pleaded. she had been invited to rafe camerons party, a coveted event where anything and everything happened. esther was dating rafe's friend kelce, who invited her to the party.

"you're not even gonna talk to me so what's the point in going." you responded, filing your nails while you laid in bed.

"honestly, when's the last time you really went out? you only ever go to the country club and don't say your parents make you because last time you weren't even with your parents."

"well, the old men buy me drinks if i talk to them and make them laugh. sometimes they give me money. one of them gave me this tiffany bracelet." you stuck your wrist out to show off the silver bracelet with the heart tag which was branded with the company's insignia.

"that's kinda gross." esther scrunched her nose. you only shrugged your shoulders.

"so is going to a party at rafe camerons house. jungle juice is probably roofied" rafe had been the stereotypical jock douchebag who only hung out with other jocks, cheerleaders, or other impossibly gorgeous girls. you saw right through him which is why you never caved. not when he invited you to his lunch table, not when he asked you out, not when he tried to grind against you on the dancefloor at junior prom and called you a bitch when you pushed him away. at some point, rafe stopped trying trying with you and turned his attention and "where my hug at?" energy towards other girls who were much more susceptible.

"so we'll pregame. just please don't make me go alone." in a flash, esther sat on top of you and pinned your arms down while a string of "please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!" tumbled out of her mouth.

"OKAY!" you had enough, but were still giggling. "i'll go, just get off of me so i can change."

"yay!" esther rolled off of you. "wear the black one, the one that makes you look slutty."

"aren't we supposed to be getting you laid?" you asked, looking through your closet that was practically overflowing with expensive name brands.

esther looked down at her hands. "me and kelce already..."

"no way. really?" she nodded and you squealed rushing over to hug her. "babe i'm so proud of you! wait- why do you need me there then?"

"its the first time i'm meeting his friends and i'm nervous." she explained, now looking through your clothes with you. "i need a buffer, yknow, a cute friend who can keep my boyfriends friends occupied."

you blinked. "so basically, you're whoring me out?"

"you just told me that you talk to old men for money and gifts."

"yeah and they don't even get to see me in my little black dress."

when you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. rafe caneron's parties had a reputation. booze flowed, drugs were shared, and there were enough rooms in the house for every couple to get busy in. it was the perfect haven for teen delinquency.

you were unimpressed, as per usual, with rafe's antics. he had been in the pool when you arrived, a girl on either side of him while he smoked a joint.

"how long do i have to stay?"

"until you start enjoying yourself."

you went to the bar. grabbing a red solo cup, you mixed yourself a drink of cherry vodka and coke. you chugged it, always having the attitude that when it came to alcohol you had to get right to the point. when you finished it, you made yourself another one.

"excuse me." a hand gently placed itself on the small of your back which made you jump. "my bad, didn't mean to scare ya- hey you're esthers friend right?" it was topper. "i just saw her with kelce. i'm topper." he stuck his hand out.

"bunny." you took it.

"whatcha got there?"

"chery vodka and coke."

"nah nah nah- you like the cherry vodka?" you nodded and he took your cup from you. "let me make you a drink."

"okay." you watched his every move as he fixed cherry vodka, cranberry juice, and lime in a brand new cup. "thank you. what is this?"

"it's called a cherry bounce. cheers to you, bunny. hopefully this isn't the last time i see you."

you only smiled at him, tight lipped and gently tapped your cup against his before taking a drink. "topper, this is really good. make me another?"

"you're not even done with that one yet." with that, you drank the rest of your cup. "okay, party girl." he took your cup back and fixed you another. "you wanna dance?"

you hated to admit it, but you actually were having a good time with topper. he was funny, kind, nice to look at, and he was a good dancer. the night was going so good, until esther invited you and topper to sesh with her, kelce, and rafe as the party died down.

it wasn't the sesh that was bad, no, you even managed to be polite and sociable with rafe. it was after the sesh when your drinks had caught up with you and you needed to pee. "esther can you show me where the bathroom is?" you asked but it fell on deaf ears as esther and kelce were mouth fucking.

"c'mon. i'll show you." rafe got up and began walking inside the house without another word. you quickly followed, only wanting to relieve your bladder and be alone for a few minutes to gather yourself and your thoughts that were racing on account of the sativa blunt you had just smoked.

rafe walked up the stairs, basically torturing your bladder with every step until he got into his room. "just use this one."

you were too desperate to argue about whatever his intentions were bringing you here so you went in and almost tripped over yourself getting to the toilet. you made it through, no accidents happening and feeling a lot more gone than when you walked up the stairs.

you stepped back into rafes room and he was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. "you okay? you were in there for a while."

"yeah." you stumbled over to sit next to him but he got up and went to his window. "just a little dizzy."

"everyone fell asleep." rafe watched his friends make themselves comfortable on the outside couch on this hot summer night. you climbed over his bed and looked out the window at the sight of your friend asleep on her boyfriend's chest and topper asleep, hugging a pillow.

"do i get a prize?" he cocked his head at you. "for being the last one awake at a rafe cameron party?"

"what do you want?" rafe asked you seriously and you sighed, lying back against his navy blue sheets.

"for you to not be such an asshole." you murmured and stared at the ceiling. "i mean, you're really cute but you ruin it by being... you."

"i knew you had a thing for me." rafe must have only heard half of what you were saying because he was taking his place back next to you on his bed. "c'mere." he patted his lap and it didn't take much more coaxing than that to get you crawling into his lap. he positioned himself the way he wanted you, straddling him with your crotch right on top of his. "been waiting for you to finally come around." he trailed his hands up and down from your waist to your ass. "y'gonna let me inside that pretty pussy babe?" rafe whispered in your ear, sending all your intoxicated arousal straight to your core.

if you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would have never even been in rafe's room, but here you were letting him guide your hips to grind against you through the thin layer of your black lacy panties. your short dress had already ridden up your thighs, exposing you even more than you already were.

unexpectedly, rafe tugged the top of your dress down and leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. when he grazed his teeth against your sensitive, hardened peak, you gasped and jolted against him. "rafe." you whispered, trying to get his attention because your head was spinning. instead, his hand found a place between your legs and pushed your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your folds and spreading your wetness. he used it to rub your clit in circles, encouraged by your whimpers in his ear. "oh rafe..." you felt your orgasm building quickly due to your drunken state, but you also felt a pit building in your stomach. this felt wrong.

you blinked and you were on your back. your dress had found a place across your stomach and your panties were torn off of you without your knowledge. you closed your eyes, hoping if he thought you were asleep that he would just stop.

of course, things would not be that simple.

while your eyes were closed, rafe got undressed and slipped a condom over his cock. he grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips to prop your pussy up for him at the perfect angle. he took his cock and tapped it against your clit. "wake up, sleepy girl." you only whined and tried to close your legs but he forced himself between them so you couldn't.

your eyes snapped open when you felt the intrusion of his cock. "uhhh..." you let out a mixture of a moan and a whine. the stretch burned because no matter how wet you were, rafe was objectively big, especially the mushroom tip of it. you didn't know if it was the liquor, the weed, or what, but you could basically picture what it looked like based on the way it felt inside you.

rafe gave you no time to adjust and set a punishing pace off the bat. he had one of his large hands splayed over your stomach, pushing down and making you let out a short, loud moan. "let me hear you. wanna hear how good i fuck this pussy." rafe grunted while thrusting in and out.

you, in your state, were incredibly embarrassed no matter how good he hit your spots so you were barely letting any noise escape your mouth.

"always playing hard to get... you're gushing around my cock... and making a mess on my sheets... but you still act all stuck up..." rafe spat at you through his teeth and you let out another high pitched whine. he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his balls now slapping your ass with vigor. "gotta put you in your place, huh?"

he flipped you over and pulled you onto all fours. his hand splayed across your back this time and pushed your chest into the bed, creating a beautiful arch to your back. "so fuckin pretty." he moaned when the slid back into your tight warmth. the change of position did nothing to help you hold onto the little composure you had as he was now deeper than before, mushroom tip generously rubbing against your g-spot and his balls now smacking your clit. you were too far gone to care how you looked throwing your hips back against his. "fucking slut." he grunted, grabbing a handful of your hair. "y'wanted this huh? yeah, yeah, you been needing this huh?"

you could only moan as he painfully gripped your hair and pushed himself balls deep, rolling his hips against yours. "you like the way i fuck you baby?"

"mhm..." you had your eyes closed as you focused on the tension building in your stomach. a heavy hand landed a smack against your ass.

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..." you desperately moaned out.

"good girl." rafe pushed your head back into the bed and drilled his cock into you brutally. you were struggling to hold your hips up, but rafe held you up with one arm. "fuck... m'gonna cum. y'gonna let me cum in this pussy?" rafe grunted and pulled out, sliding the condom off before thrusting back into you. "there we go." he spoke through gritted teeth. "thatagirl, pussy feels like heaven."

you felt the difference and opened your mouth to protest but all that came out was unintelligible pants and moans.

then you saw white.

your orgasm washed over you, making your pussy clench and flutter and cream around rafes cock. you felt rafes hips stutter against yours and then you felt hot ropes of cum paint your insides. you couldn't stop moaning because rafe was still inside you, slowly thrusting and rubbing your clit. "so fucking tight..." he commented as he watched the way your pussy suctioned his cock and pulled out.

against your knowledge, rafe had been recording since he got you in doggy and was still recording. "shit..." he groaned as he focused the camera on your glistening pussy. a drop of his cum came dribbling out and he pushed it back in, earning a soft "ahhh..." from you. he played with your sensitive cunt until you came again for the camera and passed out.

when you woke up, you were alone. for a brief moment, you hadn't remembered what happened and were just confused as to where you were. you peered around the room and saw your dress and torn panties and it all came rushing back. the drinks, the sesh, having sex with rafe cameron. he must have changed you because you didn't remember putting on one of his shirts or sweats.

you checked your phone and your parents had been blowing you up since 8am. it was noon. you had missed calls from esther and a series of texts that said she couldn't find you in the morning and hopes you made it home safe. "shit." you groaned and got out of bed, legs sore from the sex you could only remember flashes of. you tidied the room up and changed back into your clothes before walking downstairs with your heels in hand. you slowed as you reached the foyer, hearing voices from the parlor.

"i don't know dude, doesn't feel right to watch this."

"she was totally cool with it, c'mon."

"you're gonna wanna see this."

you recognized the voices as topper, rafe, and kelce. then a video began playing and at first it just sounded like porn, then you realized it was your moans streaming through rafes phone.

"you like the way i fuck you?"

"mhm..."

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..."

"good girl."

you felt sick to your stomach as you heard the boys commenting on the video. how could you be so stupid? of course rafe would record you without permission while you were off your ass last night. you only blamed yourself as you walked home from tannyhill.

the video followed you around over the summer and you only managed to escape it when you went off to college.

rafe never thought twice about you after that.

JACKSONVILLE: Present.

rafe stared at your instagram feed in utter disbelief. he hadn't thought about you or the video since that summer. he honestly forgot it even happened. he wasn't a douchebag, he was a handsome young man who took all the opportunities presented to him (as he told himself). was sending the video around immature and stupid? probably. he was a kid though. everyone makes mistakes, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself as he looked through old pictures of you. did you remember him? you must have. you looked different from the last time he saw you but he looked the same. you definitely knew who he was the second he came into the study room and he didn't know how to feel about that. it made his job easier and harder. he already had a connection with you, but he would have to go through a grueling apology process that he really didn't care for. he just needed to have you.

as he scrolled into the more recent stuff, he couldn't help but notice that you didn't post jj on here at all. the page was a monument to you, all the better, and you were gorgeous on here. 2k followers with 1k likes on every post you made and comments that varied from "you're so gorgeous" to "just give me one chance." you had a highlight titled "my <3" and there was only one picture of you holding jj's hand with the song "melting" by kali uchis which was posted only a month ago.

he left your profile and went into his camera roll, into the hidden folder and scrolled back to 2018. he found the video and pressed play, his cock getting hard immediately and straining against his pants. soon enough, he had his phone pressed to his ear and his hand down his pants as he watched you and kie gathering firewood. soon enough, he was cumming in his hand to the sound of you saying that you loved his cock.

rafe managed to clean up a little and continued to watch you, well into the night as you and your friends built a bonfire and smoked a joint. it was midnight when you all had decided to leave. he followed the dirty old van back to campus and learned where your dorm was, watching you and jj head in.

rafe made it back to his dorm at around 3:30am. the more he learned, the more questions he had. rafe fell asleep with only one thing on his mind.

you.

[huskersbooze]

Part 3 to Who's In Control?

Better Than This

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3(here!) |

Summary : After the fight and spending time apart, you and Alastor finally come to realise your mutual feelings for one another, but before that, a more important matter needs to be discussed.. will Alastor finally tell the truth?

Warnings : This is where we go off track and not all of this is canon, swearing/cuss words, Angel jokes about sex(?)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : Lore, world building kinda, angst, fluff, Alastor learns to talk about feelings

Ib : Better Than This by Set It Off

Word count : 1.4k

Wide awake on the couch, you stare up at the ceiling of the hotel.

“I’m closing for the night, kid. You gonna be alright?” Husk asks from the bar.

“I’ll manage. Goodnight, Husk.”

“Night, kid.” He heads towards the staircase, but just before leaving for good, he turns to face you one last time. “Take care. And don’t stay up too late.”

“Mhm. You too.”

After a while, it was quiet. Just an empty hotel with the dim hallway lights and nothing else.

You weren’t really sure why you were here. You could’ve gone back to your room after Husk left, or before, for that matter. Maybe your heart just has desires you couldn’t avoid.

“Shit, stop thinking about him! C’mon, brain! Stop it, now.” You aggressively started to blink, trying to find anything else to distract your mind, but everything seemed to be tied to his existence.

There was no denying you missed him.

“What the hell is happening.. I’m supposed to be mad and angry, not missing him..” You sigh.

Poor Alastor, though.. Maybe I should hear him out? No. Fuck, no! He lied to you! No way.

You groan and cover your eyes with the back of your hand. There was this uneasy churn in your stomach.

Am I.. am I in love with Alastor?

-----

“Alastor, you can’t keep this up forever. You need to fix this.” Rosie sighs, walking Alastor back to the Hotel. 

“What use is there, dear, Rosie?” Alastor’s voice is audibly tired-out, though his smile still etched high and proud. “I was so close.”

“You need to tell the poor thing and let her fend for herself.”

“She wouldn’t listen.”

“Alastor, please. This is no longer about your silly little crush.” Rosie stops in her tracks, catching sight of the Hotel a few streets away. “It’s about her soul.”

“Crush?” Alastor asks, oblivious.

“A crush, someone you have feelings for and want to be with.”

“Ridiculous, Rosie. I don’t do.. Feelings.” It pains him to utter such word.

“Whatever ya’ say. Just.. think about what I said, alright?”

Alastor nods, parting ways with Rosie.

Feelings..? Did he have feelings? Feelings for you?

-----

The door creeks, making you turn your head.

Who would be here this late at night? Was it a guest? No, why would a guest come in at 1am?

But then who would it be..?

You got off the couch and eyed the corner which led to the main entrance. A threat, perhaps.

You simply stayed put, saw a glimpse of a shadow, pounced and tackled whatever had made itself welcome in the hotel until the two of you tumbled onto the ground.

Prepared for the worst, you were surprised to hear.. Radio static?

“Alastor..?” You ask.

The Demon looks up at you, his neck wrapped tightly around your hand.

“Oh shit! Sorry, I thought you were an intruder.” You immediately let go and backed up, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Whatever gave you that idea, my dear?” He questions, sitting on the floor opposite of you.

“It's 1am.”

Alastor tilts his head.

“I wouldn't expect you to be out at 1am.”

“You know I don't sleep, dear.” He says, wincing at the fact he's repeated this multiple times in the past.

“Doesn’t mean you’d be out at 1am.” You mutter.

“Valid point.” He says, the tension in the air starting to grow thick.

“So.. uh.” You trail, “Why exactly are you out at 1am, exactly?”

“Ah, just simply visiting Rosie is all.”

“Oh, I see.”

Alastor looks away, his gaze glued to the hotel floors.

“And you, darling?”

“Huh?”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Oh. I was helping Husk with the bar.” You tell him, which, ultimately, was a lie. Husk was doing all the work while you were drinking away your feelings. But you weren’t about to admit that to Alastor.

“Yes, I see. How nice.”

“Yep.” Damn, this was so awkward.

You got up from the floor, turning your back, “Well, uh.. Goodnight, then.. Alastor.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

You start hesitantly walking towards the staircase leading to the staff rooms, feeling Alastor watching your back as you left.

“Darling.”

You stop in your tracks. Actually, no, you freeze. Though you made it evident you had no intention in facing him.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Alastor.”

“You don’t understand, dear. I fear I may regret keeping this from you any sooner in the future.”

“Uh huh..?”

“You’re aware of overlords, I assume?”

“Yes, but what does tha-” Before you could continue, you catch sight of Husk by the top of the stairs.

“Hey, you said you’d sleep, kid-” He tries to joke, but realises you’re not alone. “Oh. Hey, boss.”

“Husker.” He acknowledges. 

“Uh.. am I interruptin’ something?”

“Well, actually-”

“No, of course not.” Alastor cuts you off, passing by and giving you a small pat on the head.

God you missed those.

“We’ll discuss this another time, darling. You need your rest.” Alastor gives the small of your back a little push forward, urging you to go to bed. “I hope to see you tomorrow morning?”

“Y-Yeah.. Sure.” You reply, stepping forward, already missing the contact from Alastor’s hand. “Goodnight.”

“Indeed. Sleep well, my dear.”

You reach the top of the steps and Husk accompanies you back to your room, leaving Alastor still in the lobby by himself.

He returns to his broadcasting studios, a gut feeling in his chest telling him to just be honest with you about the contract. He hums a tune as he returns back.

He’ll fix this. He has to.

-----

“Good morning, Al.” You reached the table where everyone was gathered, and was somewhat pleased to find Alastor already sitting in his normal seat.

“How was sleep, my dear?”

“Good. Did you have your daily dose of venison yet?”

“Not quite. You don’t seem to have your breakfast either.”

“Gotta have my priorities.” You shrug. “Shall we discuss this somewhere else?”

“Let’s.”

You leave alongside Alastor, and the rest of the crew can only stare at each other in shock.

“Did I miss something?” Charlie is first to speak up.

Husk smiles, Sir pentious shrugs, Vaggie asks the same thing.

“Who thinks they’re fuckin’?”

“Angel!”

“Joking, jeez!”

-----

“You wanted to say something?” You take a seat on the floor next to Alastor’s chair.

“By all means, you’re welcome to sit on the chair.”

“I’m good. Your broadcasting panel scares me. You sit.”

“If you insist.” He takes a seat, ruffling your hair. “You’re familiar with overlords, correct?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you ever heard of Azrael?”

“The Legend of the Dark Arts Overlord?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ve heard of it, yes.”

“Well, dear, he’s not a legend. He was the most powerful overlord of us all.”

You weren’t sure what reaction to be giving so you nodded along, waiting for him to continue.

“7 years ago, us overlords were experimenting with power and magic. Azrael formed an experiment, inheriting part of his magic to a human.” He says, meanwhile you still had no idea what this had to do with you.

“This human would be protected, and would only die when Azrael himself gets killed, thus sending the experiment to hell, whether they deserved it or not. 7 years ago, some of us overlords had ‘matters’ to attend to and Azrael had died in the process during the last 2 years.” Alastor proceeds to drop multiple history facts on you at 9 in the morning.

“2 years ago,” He states. “The human was sent to hell with locked up dark magic they weren’t aware of. The overlords are now gambling for this soul as whoever owns the soul owns the power and magic, but on one condition.”

“One condition?”

“Yes, my dear. You see, to own the soul is one thing, but to own the magic.. The soul has to be killed.”

“That’s terrible! And complete bullshit.”

“Exactly, darling. And I own this very soul.” He sighs. “As long as I can own her soul for long enough and find a backdoor, her soul won’t be gambled any longer by the current overlords. But you see, dear, I’m on a time limit here.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Who’s soul is it?” You desperately question, completely forgetting you were supposed to be still mad at Alastor.

Alastor sighs, looking at you with compassionate eyes as a hand comes to cup your cheek.“2 years ago, this soul entered hell. 2 years ago, another soul that entered hell.. was you.”

———/ TBC. /———

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If you want to be on this fics taglist leave a comment! Please specify you want to be tagged or else I won't tag blogs that ask for another part cuz it doesn't seem polite- Thanks in advance <3

[meanbossart]

Hi! Not the one that asked, but those pointers you gave to write Drow were really helpful. My question is, what would differ if it was about Bhaalist DU Drow? I' ve kind of had a half finished One shot sitting there for a while, but haven't finished it in fear of wrongfully depicting the Drow 😅

Thank you for all your art and lore! Take care

Oh my god PLEASE DON'T WORRY SO MUCH, DO YOU SINCERELY THINK I'M GONNA CARE... I JUST WANNA READ THE DAMN THING NOW!

But to answer your question there is a fair bit of difference! You can boil it down to DU drow having more of an ability for introspection than his Bhaalist counterparts; he has doubts and he has reservations about things, and he does know of the pitfalls of his own personality and is capable to addressing them for the sake of his friends and partner; he's not very good at it, clearly, but he does try. He's also much more subdued overall and lets his behavior speak for itself instead of expressing every single thought or desire. He thinks of other people's needs - he second-guesses himself - he acknowledges being wrong if you do enough to prove that to him, and he tries his best not to repeat the same mistake twice.

For Bhaalist drow, you need to take away all discretion and subtlety - he essentially behaves the same, but more, all the time. His word is absolute and if you instill doubt onto him he behaves aggressively or dismissive. He's rambunctious and needs to always be the one in control of a room. "Canon" DU drow understands the need to filter some of his emotions - Bhaalist drow does too, but more often than not he chooses not to.

I think if you had a 2 minute interaction with both versions, you couldn't tell the difference. Make it drag out to 5 minutes and it would become blatantly obvious, though.

Bhaalist DU drow is highly manipulative, cruel, and intense. He's a lot like Orin except with better practices - still retaining his ability to participate in boring pleasantries and "putting on face" for the cult's benefit while his sister just embraced the crazy through and through. Bhaalist DU drow brings it down a couple of notches so he can function in society, but he is constantly brimming with violence and it leaks out in the way he mocks, insults, and puts others down.

He can't entertain friendships that aren't transactional, so, ideally, his world should revolve around himself, a mate, and his their goal - this actually means he's somewhat a bearable lover, as long as you do everything exactly the way he tells you to and look happy about it. If you don't, his punishment isn't violence; it's demeaning you, it's isolating you, restraining you and making you as small as possible.

[cat-and-fox-hub]

[Yōkai AU] Fiend & Menace

Made by Cat, aka Researcher Serif/AW

"I know I'm quite the catch but for you to look at me like that, you trying to tell me something, Master~? You don't need to look from so far, you're free see my true self as close and as often as you please~. Just know you aren't escaping me that easily~."

(The Kitsune no Mado, or "Fox Window", is a Japanese hand technique believed to reveal hidden Yōkai through your fingers as with above.

It's comparable to the Celtic hag-stone or adder stone, a stone found in riverbeds with a naturally formed hole which can reveal witches or faeries through it.)

─────────────────────

Sometimes, I really hate colors. I spent so long agonizing his color palette it ain't funny, I swear. At least I think I did better on colors this time. Not by much but decent enough... (lighting's hard)

Either wae, here's @cosmica-galaxy's Fiend and Menace! They're apart of my Yōkai AU, very much based/inspired on @twstedforyou's own original Yōkai Twisted Wonderland AU.

Below is some lore if you wanna know! I recommend reading up this post for further AU lore if you wish.

Do hope you enjoy either wae!

─────────────────────

For those who don't know what Yōkai are, "Yōkai are a class of supernatural entities and spirits in Japanese folklore."

They can range from your classic demon, in this case Oni, to objects gained spirit and sentience such as Kasa-Obake, a friendly and playful one eyed, one legged sentient umbrella.

So now that that's outta the way...

[Yōkai AU Lore]:

꧁ღ⊱ | Oni!Fiend |

Fiend is an Oni, a kind of yōkai, demon, orc, ogre, or troll in Japanese folklore. They're known to be big, terrifying and having great strength. They're also known for their violent and short temperaments with a hunger for humans and alcohol.

In this AU, since people are pretty much wiped out, skibidi's are the suitable replacement. While not as fun as human prey at times, there's something a bit more satisfying playing with them. (The answer is abundance and the fact no one cares about them. He can be as sadistic and cruel as long as he wants with his food, something he couldn't with humans to avoid getting caught with his pants down so to speak.)

Fiend is a young Oni, reflecting his canon self being a Gen 0 mimic born after the fall of humanity, but he's still quite older than a century at least.

Due to his experience and the fact that the Yōkai District is quite traditional, he's a bit different. A tad wiser and more eloquent in his words for one. Not that he chooses to be, preferring to be a bastard most times. He's still the tsundere little shit who gets turned on when you make the battlefield red with the blood of your enemies.

Due to his heritage, he's quite the alcoholic. Because of that, he's also quite a bit more aggressive with skibidis because there's just some types of alcohol exclusive to the human realm that isn't made or sold in his District.

In this AU, Yōkai can shift forms to disguise themselves as the most dominant species in the human realm via shapeshifting or illusions. For some more humanoid Yōkai like Yuuki-Onna, it shows in their true forms. The believability of a Yōkai's disguise vary between Yōkai and those with skills more inclined to disguise like Tanuki and Kitsune are better at it than most. Fiend has an unusual competence in the art for Oni, Yōkai known to be quite dog shit at their disguises, especially for one as young as him.

With his surprising competence in illusions and Menace being too young to create his own disguise, Fiend extends his own over Menace until he can learn for himself. It also means when his transformation goes, so does the tuggle's.

Before the War, Yōkai had the option of either human or mimic guises but considering mimics themselves mimicked humans, it was mostly human disguises. Now though, the option is either Alliance members or mimics who mimicked them. Fiend in particular chose the mimic option because it gave him more freedoms so to speak. Disguising himself as an Alliance member would've burden him with the role of acting like one which, as apart of a military operation, is a heavy one to play.

Fiend spent most of his time in the human realm. When the fall of humanity came, he was mostly wandering and hunting alone and only rarely going back into his District when bored. Despite the solitude of the empty cities, not even he knew why he stayed in the wasteland as a TV mimic as he did. At least, not until he met you.

In this AU, his meeting with you was much like his canon self. He decided you were interesting at first and pretty much stalked you. Though, he was much more… open, so to say, with his less than mortal nature. He didn't necessarily show off he was of an Other nature but he didn't necessarily bother with blending in too much. Humans are pretty much dead and gone and he only kept a thin veneer up for the Alliance to not get up all over his ass after all.

Let's just say it was quite a surprise when he confronted you for the first time and found out you were his beloved Master all along. (He did not let go for the next week, still closely shadowing you for the rest of the month after. Your presence— no, your existence is simply too much— too intoxicating— for him to simply ignore and leave be.)

Bonus! He'd never admit it but sometimes, he'd head over to his District and find baubles for you that he makes seem like they're old belongings he'd never touched and left to dust. He's always terribly smug when you like it and gloats it over the others with a smirk.

꧁ღ⊱ | Oni!Menace |

Menace is also an Oni, a very young one

He's pretty much canon Menace but more of a little shit with a nasty temper when really angry

Though, instead of the whole 'parents dying leaving bby orphaned', its more he was orphaned at birth

Unless a hybrid of sorts, Oni are traditionally born from the death of a horrible human's spirit which is why Oni, at their base nature, are cruel and violent. By using the dead spirit of a horrible human to bring them into existence, they're bound to take bits of the violent and cruel parts that make up said spirit. Luckily for Fiend and you, it's something that could be taught to be managed but anger is always something present that'll have to be managed for the rest of his life.

Despite being essentially a toddler, he still has the absurd strength Oni are known to have. He can easily carry you with no problem which is a bit troubling considering he likes get mischievous. Often with Byte at that...

He's also a a bit of a nipper considering human flesh is apart of the natural diet of Oni. He knows better than to harm, Spirits forbid consider you prey and eat you. Adopted Papa Fiend is hovering over his back with a critical eye after all.

Bonus! Menace, underestimating his own strength and your human constitution, had accidentally thrown you once. Luckily, it was at Fiend. Unluckily, it was at Fiend. Possessive shit extraordinaire. (Yōkai won't let any slight against their Master stand, kid or not. Someone boutta get their little ass cooked.)

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Check out my main blog: @researcher-serif

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[Read under cut for those that can't see the image text or colored text]

Fiend: "Hmm...?"

Fiend: "Oh..."

Fiend: "I see~"

Fiend: "Ahuhu~"

Fiend: "How flattering~"

[fish-ash-and-fish-bones]

I need to rant about Zukka and fanfics for a minute

I’ve seen multiple fics changing Sokkas canon blue eye colour to brown and at least one author said the reason was because brown people can’t have blue eyes and?!?!? not only is that racist but it’s also untrue! Not to mention this is a character in a world with actual spirits and people who can control the elements and THAT is what you’re focusing on?? Sokka has BLUE eyes people!

Zuko is almost always portrayed as a bit dumb and while I agree he has his moments he is actually really smart?? the guy successfully tracked the gaang around the world, was a master swordsman and martial artist, could infiltrate inescapable prisons and military bases easily and without getting caught, was well versed in Avatar history and lore, military tactics ect. He was a royal and was tutored all his life and people make him dumb in fics because he is dramatic and impulsive. He may not think things through but he IS smart

I’ve read a lot of fics that make sokka a swordsman on par of even better than zuko even though he had like two days of training. Sokka is very talented but two days could NEVER bring sokka onto Zuko’s level. Cmon guys

The fact that Sokka and Katara throwing around the word ashmaker like is isn’t canonically a slur and Aang being okay about it/not stopping them. Also Zuko not calling them out on it. I think Aang lets them say the slur in the series too but still.

ZUKO WAS BURNED AND BANISHED AT 13!! Not 14! Not 12!! HE SPENT 3 YEARS AT SEA!! Not 2!! My guys!! I don’t get how y’all mess that up!

I think this one is the worst and if frustrates be so much:

ZUKO DID NOT BETRAY KATARA!!! Zuko and Katara shared a moment in the catacomb when they talked about their mothers but in no way did Zuko say or indicate that he had switched to the Gaangs side. Katara assumed he switched sides despite her knowing that Zuko’s loyalty and personality at the time would not allow him to and then when Zuko did exactly what was in line with his past actions she decided he betrayed her. Plus at the western air temple she was deliberately cruel to him under the guise of protecting the gaang even though her “protection” was just her insulting him constantly. Like, I know she’s 14 but there were 3 other people who could’ve told her to knock it off and there’s no way Sokka actually thought Zuko betrayed Katara because he’s smart enough to understand that Katara as assumptions never equaled to betrayal

[tokoyamisstuff]

Punchline pt. 1/3 - Buggy / Reader

Ch. 1 : Setup

Synopsis: Buggy is devastated that his s/o can't remember him.

Warnings: Slight Angst, Mentions of Blood and Injury, Some Cussing, Reader is so oblivious it physically hurts to watch

Tags: F!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Not Proofread

Disclaimer: Guys I'm not rly into the lore of OP but I got a bad case of brainrot for the LA characters.

Sincerely sorry in case anything seems a lil' OOC or AU!

"Get. Out."

Buggy's voice may appear calm on the outside, yet it was low and laced with an unspoken threat. His words directed to the crew medic that was currently standing in the doorframe of the captains lair, not daring to move an inch.

And yet he wouldn't leave, instead gulping nervously as Buggy's icy glare kept him rooted on spot. To get a glimpse of the unconscious body in the back of the cabin, he dared breaking eye contact and peeking over his captain's shoulder - much to the displeasure of the latter.

"B-But boss" the man managed to wring out, stuttering in negative anticipation of the consequences. "You haven't let anyone close to her since the...incident. I-I really need to re-examine her wounds-"

"Do not make me repeat myself!" the clown sharpy cut off his subordinate, absentmindedly moving the daggers in his hands to soothe his nerves. "You better be grateful that you're of use to me." No, her, he corrected himself mentally, "Otherwise you'd be dead meat already. Now get lost."

As soon as the heavy wooden door shut, Buggy sent one of his daggers to pierce the place his crewmate had just occupated. How ironic he thought - a few years prior someone daring to talk back to him would've gotten pierced with no hesitation.

It was no news that Buggy had gotten softer ever since you stumbled into his life, and he still didn't know if it was for better or worse.

Anyways, his crewmates started to notice the subtle changes in their once feared - and loathed - captain.

Not that it mattered right now. As long as your life was still on the line, he couldn't care less about his reputation.

The man let out a deep, aggravated sigh before turning on that damn uncomfortable stool to face you again. Godfuckingdamnit, he never realized what a drunk he had become until he actually had to stay sober for your sake.

It had been three weeks already, and still no sign of recovery. You were still unconscious - no wonder, with injuries that heavy it was a miracle that you were even alive. And all this time Buggy refused to leave your side even for one second, watching you like a feral guard dog.

Not even his most loyal men had seen him this devastated before.

Right now you were staining the sheets of Buggy's bed with your own blood, having soaked through the bandages again. Nothing your lover couldn't fix though - he'd be damned if he weren't able to take proper care of you himself!

After all, he had once promised to give you the world.

And even when you humbly declined this great announcement of his back then, Buggy had already long since decided that you deserved nothing less.

In fact - though he would never openly say it aloud - you might be the only thing he held higher than himself.

Those kinds of sentiments were new to him and certainly didn't come easy either, but underneath it all he cared so deeply for you that it frightened him sometimes...

...exactly because of moments like those that leave him all helpless.

The very same man that sacrificed even his own men if it meant he could get away unharmed now wished to take this pain on your stead. Hell, even all of his riches he would gladly cast away if it meant seeing you smile again.

Instead he was left only being able to watch you suffer, maybe crack a joke or two in hope you might in fact hear him somehow.

"Now wake up, would you...this ain't funny" he muttered under a shaky breath, his hand lingering on your cheek for a bit longer after having placed a wet cloth on your forehead.

Maybe the sobriety made him clear-headed for a change, or it was the simple fact that you were alone, and therefore he could drop his usual facade.

Whatever it was, it urged him to speak from the heart.

"Shit, Y/N, I almost lost you there..." The man buried his face in his hands, voice cracking as he remembered how bravely you shielded him with your own body, saving him from a possibly lethal attack. "That shit could've cost you your life! And for what? Saving someone like me?! Quit joking!"

Well, truth be spoken, from his point of view this whole relationship was ridiculous from the very start - a joke without punchline, some might say.

Nonetheless, even though he had yet to understand how he of all people ended up so lucky, he wouldn't change it for the world.

For a moment he was contemplating whether to lie down next to you - and honestly, the temptation to cradle you in his arms was far too great to put into words - yet he refrained from doing so. You needed space either way, and he felt somewhat undeserving of your closeness after he had failed to protect you, after all.

"Of course he could lie down next to you - and in all honesty the temptation to cradle you in his arms was more like a need to him - but he refrained from doing so. You needed space either way, and he felt undeserving of your closeness after he had failed to protect you.

"You just wait, I'll become even flashier for your sake!" he promised with a determination, almost like newfound purpose. "Something like this won't happen again, promise!"

Squeezing your hands ever so slightly, he placed a kiss on your knuckles before wrapping the blanket to cover you completely. "I may be an egoistical, worthless scumbag but I'd do anything for you! Just get well, that's all I ask."

It was already way past midnight, and Buggy was still sitting on the chair next to your bedside, his face buried in the mattress as he collapsed due to exhaustion...

...yet he jolted up as soon as he felt you move.

Your face was contorting in pain as you stirred on the bed, basically your whole body aching - and the hammering sensation in your forehead was the worst of it all.

"Heya, Honey!" A way too enthusiastic voice exclaimed, "Was about time you woke up."

Due to your ears still ringing you could barely understand, all you gathered from the sound was that you were not alone in this almost completely dark room.

Panic began to rise in your chest because when the pain finally ebbed away, it made room for you to realize the complete void in your mind.

Where- no, who are you?!

Almost violently casting away the sheet you were tangled in, you frantically scanned your brain for some kind of hint, any memory at all, no matter how trivial...

...yet were left with noting but a vast emptiness.

"Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey!" That apparently male voice again, cutting your pondering out just before you hyperventillated yourself into collapsing. "You're having a panic attack or something?"

"Shh" the unfamiliar voice started to hush you - his tone mixed with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher - yet very obviously overchallenged with soothing someone. "It's alright, don't overdo it. You just woke up."

That person gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders, guiding you back to lie down again. You were too weak to struggle against that foreign touch either way...

...but there was also such a great and genuine concern present in his tone, that this stranger did seem to miraculously calm you down to some extent.

No matter who this man was, it seemed that he was really worried for your wellbeing.

From what you could assess already, at least it seemed like you were in a safe place, and with someone who nurses your injured self back to health at that...

...however, ultimatively that false impression of safety would quickly disappear as soon as you opened your eyes.

Blinking heavily so your sight would adapt to the almost nonexistent light source of the room, the blurred outline of a person would finally become more detailed - and what you then saw made your blood run cold.

His usual trademark grin appeared as a menacing gnarl to you, unknowingly making your fear even worse as he suddenly watched your face becoming drained of any colour.

"What the fuck-!" you screeched at this sight of a literal horror clown, reaching out to get you like straight out of a nightmare. Immediately shuffling away from him, you fell over the edge of the bed just to be caught into his very arms again.

"Dear, are you alri-"

"Leave me alone!" you then screamed, lashing out at the man while starting to sob uncontrollably.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Buggy would now snap back at you - admittedly not the best way to deal with the situation.

You yelled and cursed and cried as the man struggled to keep you trapped in his embrace, in a naive hope that you'd calm down and then maybe talk about whatever in the world had gotten into you - but to no avail as it seemed, since with every second passing you only got more hysterical.

"I'm starting to get angry, dollface" the killer clown chuckled darkly, a little out of breath at least, since you could still put up quite a fight. "Don't make me use my powers on you!"

Damn, sometimes he forgot that even while appearing all frail and innocent, you could pack a proper punch- and he got a harsh reminder of it as soon as your fist hit the bottom of his chin.

"Heh, feisty little thing. Now that's my girl!" He laughed, relieved to see you being so lively again - yet his insane, dark chuckle had the exact opposite effect he was hoping for. He wiped the blood from his bottom lip, the red liquid mixing with the make-up around his mouth. "Well, I warned ya."

If you thought to be at your lowest before, you surely didn't anticipate the man in front of you to just casually detach both his hands as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"M-Monster!" you shrieked as the gloved hands started flying to your direction, pausing for a sheer second as the word that fell from your lip made his chest narrow.

"Don't to-ouch me, you freak!" Ouch. That one hurt more than he cared to admit, so he covered it up by acting all confident and amused. "Takes one to know one, love."

Still, Buggy refused to believe that he or his presence might be responsible for this mess. He might've done a ton of mistakes in his life, but he was proud to call you one of the - if not the best - things he ever did right!

You must've hit your head really badly to act like this.

"It's only for your own good, sweetheart." Why the hell was that asshole calling you those names? To degrade you? To show you he doesn't take you serious?

No use in brooding about something so trivial as the most apparent threat were his hands. They were way too fast anyways, so you unsucessfully warded them off. Your wrists got pinned behind your back, tugging on you to lie on the bare floor, incapable to move.

"If you keep moving so recklessly your wounds will reopen, dear." You furrowed your brows together in confusion, eyeing the figure approaching you varily. "Look, I'll explain everything okay? Just calm down and let me help you. Stop making it harder than it has to be."

Never.

Trying to make any sense out of this situation left you with the only logical explanation: This...person right there was a pirate who - for whatever reason - had kidnapped and abused you to this point.

No matter how you ended up here, you needed to flee and get help, the sooner the better!

With every firm step of his towards you your alarm bells rang louder and louder, but your body was still weak and you had a disadvantage in both power and knowledge of your surroundings.

So you saved up your last ounce of strenght for one last, desperate attack.

"C'mon" he now said with a way more tender voice, and admittedly it was almost alluring in it's sound, weirdly enough pulling on your heartstrings. "Let's get you back to bed, should we? I swear upon the little honor I have, I'd never hurt you."

Liar.

"Fuck you!" you then roared just when he had crouched down in front of you, the force of your kick having sent him a good distance away and into the next best wall.

It took everything to not faint right then and there, but no matter who you were before all this, it seemed like you were no ordinary human either. So you went even beyond those limits and forced your legs to keep going...

...but not without shooting one last, derogatory and disgusted look towards your tormentor.

Buggy reached out of the collapsed wall with a shaky hand, your attack having kicked all air out of his lungs. He mutely called your name in between coughs and almost-sobs, still worried and wanting to plead for you to stay...

...but then you silenced him with a sentence that will be carved into his heart forever:

"Better not chase me, you ugly freak."

Maybe this was the punchline to the cruel joke that was your relationship after all.

[Next Chapter]

[crystallinecardinal]

So I was thinking about Starlo and Chujin

Hi. I love overanalysis. It’s in my blog title as “lore enthusiast.” Most of this probably means nothing and was unintentional, but I’m like an English teacher when it comes to media I like and am scrounging for canon content— I will see something that might have capital I Implications if you think about it hard enough, and I will shake you by the shoulders and go “WHAT DOES IT MEAAAN”

Which brings me to Starlo and Chujin and a thing I noticed while looking through the Spriter’s Resource for Starlo references. Long rant and UTY spoilers below the cut.

I should start off by saying that Starlo and Chujin are similar, in a way. Both of them are nerds, although for different things. Both are said to be caring. Both dedicated their lives to their work. Both wanted to help monsterkind. Both loved Ceroba. Both had secrets.

These similarities have not gone unnoticed, I’ve found— both by the fandom and the devs of UTY.

(Transcript:

Sword: “It does make sense that, like, Chujin and Starlo are kinda similar, and Ceroba, yknow…. She has a type, I guess.”)

So it’s not a secret these two are similar, and it’s probably intentional to make them parallel each other.

But from there, we get to the meat of this post:

These sprites.

This is where I dive into a lot of overanalysis— I’m giving that as a warning before I start. My point here though, is that these two sprites feel incredibly similar in a way where I speculate if it was intentional or not.

I’ll play devil’s advocate first, though. I’m an artist. I draw things, mostly characters and creatures. Sometimes you just have two pieces looking similar— not because you intended it that way, but because the blocking and composition was best that way.

For Starlo’s sprite, the answer feels simple. All of Starlo’s talk portraits are front facing, so this one doesn’t have a need to be any different. If it was, it may feel out of place amongst all the other sprites, especially because there isn’t a reason for him to have this sprite in particular face a different direction. He isn’t looking around, and isn’t averting his gaze. He’s being direct. The best way to convey that is with eye contact (or at least, implied eye contact) via a front facing sprite. Additionally, even if Starlo was averting his gaze, with how UT’s talk sprites work, there are better ways to convey that than changing the way his talk sprite faces.

Starlo’s character as himself also contributes to the way this sprite looks. It’s a direct contrast to the loud, boisterous North Star. This is the monster behind the persona— one who’s a lot less confident, one who thinks himself a ghost to the people around him. A “nobody farmer,” in his words. When trying to get this across, art-wise, the way Starlo’s talk sprites look as opposed to North Star’s talk sprites are a perfect fit! It’s in the subtle expressions versus animated expressions. This is even down to how Starlo’s glasses are drawn, not showing his eyes behind them, giving him a much more distant look.

As for Chujin’s sprite, the answer also feels fairly simple. The sprite pictured earlier was for his tapes, where it would make sense for most of his sprites to be front facing. He’s talking to the camera, it’s a video log. Being silhouetted also works here— it makes him more mysterious in a way.

That’s what I have to say if you look at it JUST from an art point. However, we like to be a little silly in this house (my blog), so I’m going to overanalyze the hell out of this.

So. The pose.

I’m probably going insane at this point. I’ve already explained the most likely reason for the poses being similar, and don’t get me wrong, that’s probably the main reason why. But also— note the eyes.

According to the Spriter’s Resource, Chujin’s sprites usually have his eyes visible from behind his goggles.

But.

There are exceptions.

I think the reason for this lies in the same reason we never see Starlo’s eyes behind his glasses after he takes the hat off. I explained this earlier when discussing the artistic reasoning behind these sprites— not seeing Starlo’s eyes makes him appear more distant, which highlights the part of his character that’s much less confident in himself. We go from seeing his eyes (or at least, the shape of them behind his glasses, this is a consistency with UTY sprites I can talk about later) to not at all.

This is what makes Chujin’s sprites so important to me.

We’re meant to like Chujin. At least, before we know the truth. We’re meant to think he was always a kindhearted man, a loving father and husband, and a good mentor. All the good things. It’s only as the game continues that you see the imperfections. By talking to Dina, you see he didn’t like the Wild East due to what it stood for, and you learn of the time he came into the saloon all disheveled, uncharacteristically asking for a drink, only mentioning he thought he “saw a ghost”. You learn in the Steamworks of his research, and how he wasn’t as good at robotics as he was made out to be.

That’s what makes Chujin flawed, though. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, none of these things will make a player dislike him. As said— we’re supposed to like Chujin. An opinion and a mysterious saloon visit isn’t the end of the world. We also grow to learn more and more about him, and he seems just like a kind man with a love for robotics (even if he struggled).

And then we learn of Ceroba’s plan. And we learn of something hidden in the abandoned Ketsukane Estate.

This is the first time in the Pacifist route that we actually SEE Chujin, first in a photo.

Note the eyes.

We see Chujin’s eyes behind his goggles here! Once again— this is likely for the reason mentioned before. We’ve only been told mostly good things about Chujin so far! Here’s a photo of him and his family— how could this kind man be wrapped in anything suspicious?

Which then makes the sudden change in the tapes crucial.

We can no longer see his eyes— he’s grown distant, mysterious. This is the part of Chujin that he kept secret from even Ceroba, up until he was on his deathbed. It’s the part of him that isn’t necessarily the loving husband and father we know him as, but rather, this is the part of him that was a determined researcher on a mission. And therefore, Chujin goes from lively to cold.

I’m sure that last bit doesn’t ring any alarm bells at all.

Hey! Remember how I said Starlo and Chujin are similar in ways? This is where I get into that. I’m applauding you from behind my screen if you’re still reading.

I’m now going to talk about Starlo and Chujin as characters, as well as the parallels between the two sprites that started this analysis. For simplicity, I’ll break these into sections. Funky names for a funky reading experience, so I’m not just word dumping at you.

1) Got a secret, can you keep it?

Soooo. Chujin and Starlo’s secrets.

One of the first things that rings alarm bells for me is the situation in which both of the sprites I’m analyzing pop up in. Context is key. Specifically, both of the sprites are used when we’re learning the truth about each character.

For Starlo, we’re learning about who he really is, the monster behind the persona. He takes his hat off, reveals the monster underneath, and we get his new talk sprite. He’s finally stopping, for a second— taking a moment to break the act he’s been playing for YEARS. And he does it all to show Ceroba he’s still there underneath it all, as well as reveal to Clover who he really is. He’s at his most vulnerable state, revealing how he sees himself as a nobody, and a fraud.

For Chujin, we’re learning part of the truth of who he was, when he’s at his most morally dubious. We learn of his experiments, the ones he worked on and hid from his family until he was about to die— only then did he tell Ceroba. We also learn of his views and opinions, the reasoning behind them, and how he lied about his job at the Steamworks. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Ceroba he was fired, because he didn’t want her to think less of him.

So, the main points of this:

Starlo and Chujin both had their own secrets

Both of their secrets are revealed when these sprites are used

Both secrets reveal more about the characters’ identities

Both want to be seen in a good light

The main difference, I think, other than what the secrets entail themselves, are what they mean for each character.

2) Light and dark symbolism?? In MY overanalysis??? It’s more likely than you think

Chujin and Starlo’s secrets both weigh on them. Starlo doesn’t want to break character— he enjoys being North Star and wants to bring a smile to the faces of monsterkind. Chujin doesn’t want Ceroba to think any lesser of him for his mistakes.

Additionally, the reveal of their secrets marks two different things for their characters. For Starlo, it’s a step forward. For Chujin, it’s spiraling down.

This gets really fun considering these two sprites, and light and dark symbolism (not in the traditional good versus evil way).

Starlo’s in the light. He’s showing himself, he’s maturing. He’s being incredibly vulnerable for probably the first time in a LONG time, and finally breaking the persona. He’s working towards a better goal, accepting both North Star and Starlo as facets of himself, but it starts with taking off the hat. It starts with coming into the light, and letting the shadows fade away.

Chujin is silhouetted in darkness. As said previously, we only ever hear mostly good things about Chujin from those who were around him (barring Starlo, although that’s secondhand information, and by some extent, Dina). Martlet and Ceroba saw the best in him, a mentor and loving husband respectively. But as he rambles off to his tapes, shrouded in shadow and secrecy, we learn of what was happening behind the scenes: he reveals part of who he really was, and how much he hid away from those he loved, all away from the rose colored glasses.

3) “Your opinion is wrong” -Chujin, probably

To just point out more ways Chujin and Starlo parallel yet also contrast one another (which I will mention for the section after this as well): I think it goes without saying that Starlo and Chujin have opposite worldviews when it comes to humans.

Chujin believes the worst in humans, primarily due to the Snowdin Attack. He hates them— The War was when the blade was plunged into monsterkind’s flesh, and the Snowdin Attack was only a twist of the knife.

Starlo admires humans, maybe a bit too much for some monsters. He loves their stories, loves the idea of cowboys and Westerns, so much so he creates the Wild East with his posse.

This is what makes these two different, only strengthening the light/dark contrast. The ideas of hate and admiration fit well into that theme, don’t they?

Stick with me here. I promise this is going somewhere.

4) “Monsterkind’s Hero is a title soaked in blood.”

So, the aforementioned views of humans? This gets really fun when you apply it to the crux of Starlo and Chujin’s missions: to help monsterkind during their time underground.

Both want to be heroes, in a way. They both want to help. Of course, this is in different ways— but the main intention behind it is the same.

Chujin, as said, hates humans. He wants monsters to be brought to justice. After the Snowdin Attack, he decides that if he can’t help through Axis, then he’ll help another way. Thus starts Chujin’s dedication to his experiments, which he makes his work and eventually the rest of his life. All of it for a chance to help monsterkind when the time comes.

Starlo’s dedication to the Wild East is similar, in a way, yet directly contrasts Chujin. His admiration for humans and Westerns goes to the point he wants to provide monsterkind with their own “slice of the Surface.” He wants to see those around him smile— his own way of helping monsterkind when they’re still stuck underground.

My point here is that while they find different ways to accomplish their missions (and you can drag more light/dark symbolism out of this— Chujin hidden away in the shadows of the basement in the Ketsukane Estate versus Starlo out in the spotlight), both have so much dedication to it that it becomes their lives.

Chujin, although having a family he loved and cared for, let his experiments drive him onwards to the point it cost him his life. Starlo willingly gave up who he was to be North Star, letting the Wild East become his life.

5) Yes, and?

I could go on and on about more similarities and differences between Starlo and Chujin, but I feel like I’ve brought up what I need to for now.

Why bring all of this up in the first place, though? What’s the point of going on about these characters’ missions, or their secrets, or all the light and dark symbolism you could hypothetically draw from it?

Let me talk about those sprites again.

I’ve spent ages going on about Starlo and Chujin, and how they parallel, yet contrast each other. They’re foils, in a way. These similarities and differences are what make these two little sprites so interesting to me.

You could say it’s all because that’s what the scene needed at the time, and that statement likely has truth to it. I already talked about how. But the knowledge of the context of the scenes and these two characters is what makes me wonder if it all was done on purpose.

Chujin, shrouded in shadow, revealing a part of him kept secret from even those he loved most. His reasoning for his hatred for humans comes on full display, and he begins to formulate a mission, the same one his life would eventually fall to. If the royals won’t see how much he cares for monsterkind, he’ll show it himself.

Starlo, left in the Swealterstone’s light, revealing a part of him the Wild East knows nothing of. His mission starts to redefine itself, and it’s original intent becomes more clear. He only ever wanted to be someone. He only ever wanted to help. Maybe now, with the hat off, he can learn to make others happy, but not forget himself in the process.

A conclusion:

So. Do I think that these two sprites for Starlo and Chujin were intentionally made to parallel yet also contrast each other?

My answer is a big fat Maybe. I can’t be entirely sure.

Truth is, I’m not a UTY dev. I literally only discovered and got into this game a little over a month ago. I don’t know the true intent behind the spritework, I don’t know the conversations that happened behind the scenes. I am literally just A Guy ranting on the internet about a silly little fangame that I have brainrot over.

But! I do have a finalized game and commentary I can analyze, and knowing that some spritework details were intentional (the way that Chujin’s talk sprites face are made to match Ceroba and Kanako’s), I could see something like this being either intentional or a really fun coincidence. The type of thing the devs can look back on and realize “oh! That’s funny how I accidentally made that parallel. I didn’t mean to do that, but it works.”

I can only hope it was intentional. Chujin and Starlo are both incredibly interesting characters to me, especially in how they can be seen as foils. Something as minor as this I think just shows the love put into this game and these characters. UTY is just a great game overall, in my opinion.

But yeah! That’s my ramble, all because I was doing sprite studies and looking for references in the Spriter’s Resource for art. Hopefully I made at least some sense :)

[draken-rotzi]

Tarnished Lore?

From my draconic girl Emma?

Yes she got it!

Though it's mostly a set of points in her story, I do need to write them down in a google doc ToT

I usually just throw my characters into the world, not really thinking in a deep backstory until later when I've defined their personality and relationships, they just fall into place and I add into that !

I'll try to make it as short as possible, since its not that much of a linear story I think? It happens paralel to "the chosen" tarnished's journey (the game's canon), so world events can progress without much issue!

Her name is Emmlyn! Emma for short

• Tarnished from the warrior/hero category, draconic mom and blood noble dad who mysteriously left so she basically never met him (Ansbach lol)

• Arrived at the coast in Limgrave, following the grace, led her to Agheel Lake where she met Yura and learnt about dragon communion

• Unable to beat Agheel, made her way east to Caelid, at Redmane Castle she trained (painfully) with the Leonine and Crucible Knight there, managing to defeat the smaller drakes around and crafting her (altered) drake knight armor

• Back in Limgrave convinced Yura to help her defeat Agheel and kept the heart, not doing communion (yet)

• Heard of a dragon at Stormveil, got to defeat Morgott with the help of Rogier. Didn't fight Godrick after she learned that the dragon was a corpse, proceeded to Liurnia following word of glintstone dragon Samarag.

• At Liurnia she met Bogart and Rya, she offered Emma a future visit to the Volcano manor, seeing her interest in dragon hunting the two wyrms around the place might interest her.

• Went to fight Samarag and failed, wounded she had to retreat, deciding to rest against the walls of the Rose Church where she met Varre, who made fun and dismissed her for being so weak.

• Back at the roundtable she notices Rogier's situation and decides to find a way to help him. (Basically what kickstarts her main story)

• Still following grace, she needs to be stronger to explore more dungeons and reach farther for any means to help her friend, she takes Agheel's heart to Caelid where her first step in dragon communion happens, she takes on more dragons around the area to further her goal.

(Not defined yet other than her draconic heritage but for the sake of convenience instead of the dragon eyes she can use a dragon form for a short while now, gives a boost in stats for combat but clouds the mind)

• Hunting dragons leads her back to Liurnia where she beats Samarag, on her way back she finds Varre again who is now interested in her strenght and offers his usual deal, she reluctanctly agrees bc that's another medium for her goal if needed.

(Pretty much Fia's quest minus "enter Ranni's service" happens here)

• Rogier's condition worsens, things get desperate, so she reaches out to Varre and his bloody finger offer.

In the end nothing can help Rogier from dying of deathblight, Emma is left with two curses and the lost of her beloved, she lost the ability to see grace as well.

• Varre takes advantage of her grief and makes her get attached to him (whats better than a knight elevated by toxic love?)

• Some time passes and Emma makes the trip to the Volcano Manor, now with the craving of more dragon hearts. Meets the recusants, specifically Diallos who is the kindest of them, but she keeps him at arms' distance.

(You can insert the DLC here)

• More time passes and they have become friends with benefits, though it distracts her from her duty at Mohgwyns (not good)

• In this story its Varre who sends the poachers to kill Diallos

• Now that again Emma's got no one else she fully throws herself into being a bloody finger (with a side of dragon hunting). It gets to a point where she's almost always in her dragon form, unable to turn back on her own.

(Next bit subject to change tbh lol)

• Her mind and heart broken, in the end funny enough Varre slips speaking about her past lovers' gruesome deaths and thats what does it, the floodgates open and both curses take away her remaining humanity, turning her into a violent mindless beast of blood and fire.

And there it is! I play around a lot in scenarios with my friends but this is basically her canon lore/ending ^^; hardly anything complex but I've been having a lot of fun with it ♡

[larsisfrommars]

The Light Won't Die (Part 6)

Halsin x Tav

Rating: T for Teen (Canon Typical Gore)

Chapter: 6/??? (<- Prev Chapter)

Word Count: 1596

Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Content: Halsin x Tav, Male!Tav, Fighter!Tav, the meat of the matter, oops turns out this is also a sickfic, budding feelings, Tav mini lore drop, Shadow Cursed wounds are the best kind of wounds don't you think?

"Tav knew Halsin was in no state to travel, let alone defend himself if more Shadows came. They had to find somewhere and fast."

———————✨🌿✨———————

“Well,” Halsin coughed “that’s curious.”

He took an uneven step forward, about to explain himself or theorize the nature of his previously uninfected wound. What came out instead is something between a cough and a groan.

The strength left the Druid’s body before Tav could get a word in. His eyes rolled back, his knees buckled, Nature’s Snare clattering to the ground. It took the majority of Tav’s strength to catch him and prevent them both from crashing onto the cobblestones.

Halsin regained his senses at the sudden jostling. But it was clear that the Druid could no longer stand on his own two feet, not without help at least.

“Easy, easy, easy! Let’s sit you down for a moment. Gods Halsin! Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt so badly?!” Tav hissed incredulously as he set himself and Halsin down against the low stone barrier beside them.

Halsin’s his head lolled back against the wall, grimacing, breathing heavy, trying to piece together a reply.

“Your wounds… from the fall… more urgent… did not know, though it was a flesh wound. Clearly… I was mistaken.” The elf spoke between labored breaths. Letting out a half chuckle that dissolved into a wheezing cough.

Tav couldn’t even pretend to be amused, they were both in danger now because Halsin had put his needs above his own, the selfless oaf.

Then again, Tav had been unconscious when they hit the bottom of the cliffside.

Tav had assumed he’d died, perhaps that wasn’t far from the truth. Halsin had looked unusually relieved when he came to, maybe he feared the worst… maybe…

Tav shook his head, he had more important things to worry about than a personal brush with death. Those were a copper a dozen for him. It was Tav’s fault they were down here anyway, a healing potion was the least he could do.

“Looks like some kind of poison, I thought you told me about all the dangers of the shadow curse already?” Tav glanced up at the wound as he rifled around his bag. Looking much stranger and angrier than it had as he watched it made by those accursed Thorn Blights.

“This is new… I have neither suffered nor seen a wound like this before.” He turned to look at Tav now. “There are a great many things that have changed since I last saw this place, not just the landscape. When the Curse first fell, most were either transformed, killed or were the precious few like myself who escaped with minor injuries. Perhaps the sun cured whatever ails this wound, or perhaps… I shudder to think-”

Halsin’s conjecture was interrupted by a coughing fit. Tav finally unearthed a potion of lesser healing from his bag. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. He uncorked it for the Druid, prepared to help him choke it down if it came to it.

“The curse may be evolving.” Halsin finished soberly, gingerly taking the petite glass bottle in both hands. Emptying it in a signal swallow.

They waited with baited breath, Halsin’s breathing did not ease, nor did the narrow, angry gash in his side show any signs of closing. Not even a fading of bruises, not a thing done by such a valuable vial of magic. They looked at one another, Tav didn’t have to ask whether or not he felt any better.

“Bone Chill.” Tav realized with a nasty feeling in his gut. So much for the least he could do.

“We need to get you somewhere safe. Can you stand?”

“I will try.” Halsin breathed.

It took the staff and Tav’s help, but he was able to get back to his feet. Their travel speed now slowed to a crawl. Though he would if asked, Tav knew Halsin was in no state to travel, let alone defend himself if more Shadows came. They had to find somewhere and fast.

Slim pickings to put it lightly, less searching for a decent shelter and more so “which one of these ancient buildings is the least derelict”. Tav eyed a large silo shaped cobblestone building with barely any roof. At least the walls were intact, and he didn’t know of anything that would attack them from above.

It would have to do.

“Come on, just a little further to go.”

The Druid only nodded in reply.

Tav helped Halsin ease himself onto the dirt floor of the strange old silo, relieving himself of his pack. Rifling through it for bedroll, torches, anything that would help, he had one more health potion but obviously that wasn’t going to do any good until the Bone Chill wore off, if that was even what it was. Up until recently Tav had been a complete stranger to necromancy.

He wished he still was.

Four torches, they’d have to be relit every few hours but that could last them two, maybe three days, not counting using the Mace for backup. He had enough rations for the both of them for much longer than that thanks to raiding the Creche.

Halsin obviously needed the bedroll more than he did, he’d sleep on the floor, lightly, sitting up, just in case a torch died. Now, if only he could put a flare together to show the others where to find them.

No, bad idea, that could draw the Absolutists right to them, not to mention all manner of light hating beasts that slathered these lands in their ravenous pitch. No matter how ominously Halsin had described the Curse it was nothing compared to actually being inside it yourself. It was oppressive, if only you really could cut air with a knife. Then maybe he could think straight. He already had enough incomprehensible forces gnawing on his grey matter as it was!

“You should rest.” A shallow voice rasped from the corner.

Tav gasped, immediately putting hand to mace hilt, he almost didn’t recognize the elf’s voice.

It bothered Tav how slow he was to take his hand away from the mace although he knew full well even if Halsin were well, he’d never lay a hand on him. Even as he thought that, his mind wandered to the thorns in his chest… The mace clearly wasn’t enough, he really must light a torch!

So he did, and all the anger and fear washed away in face of a new and more powerful force. One that he’d become all too familiar with in Halsin’s presence.

Care. Not only that but the self assured sense of protectiveness he felt for all their companions, something he hadn’t quite realized was ebbing away in face of this gloom.

“Are you… well?” Halsin asked wheezily, half-conscious.

Beads of sweat speckled the Druid’s brow despite the omnipresent chill the Curse bestowed on the land, one of its many gruesomely charming features.

“I am. But you’re not.” Tav brushed Halsin’s hair from his forehead with the back of his hand “Gods Halsin, you’re burning hotter than the Hells. You’ll be competing with Karlach soon enough. You should lie down.”

The Druid not argue, perhaps he couldn’t. Strong, warm, dry hands were made cold and trembling by the strange poison running through Halsin’s veins. A hand in hand to ease. A hand laced through russet hair so that the weakened elf would not hit his head too harshly on the ground.

Gingerly, tenderly, his hands did what was necessary, what was right, as they always did. It took no real effort, so why was his heart pounding so violently in its cage then? Why did he feel as though he needed to catch his breath? He had practically been ready to cave this man’s skull in not moments prior just for startling him! Gods it had been a long day.

Tav took out his canteen.

“Drink.”

Halsin abided, with a bit of propping up.

“Thank you, Tav.” Halsin managed, followed by yet another coughing fit.

Tav was no healer but, you don’t become a Flaming Fist without getting some rudimentary first aid training. “No bleeding out before the Clerics show up!” His drill sergeant used to bark.

No Clerics around here Tav thought bitterly. Removing a water jug and a bundle of clean linens from his pack.

“I’m going to have to remove this.” Tav spoke mechanically, gesturing to Halsin’s armor. Trying focus on the task at hand and not the sudden return of that same rush of feeling from before.

Halsin nodded his understanding, doing his best to make it easier for Tav. The wound looked even worse beneath the cuirass. He wasn’t particularly squeamish given his line of work, but this wound was magical, alien, and Tav couldn’t help but wince.

The initial shock passed Tav got to work, methodically, gently cleaning the dirt and blood and ichor away until all that remained was what continued to well-up from the wound, which was quickly tapered off by the makeshift bandages he’d rustled up.

Tav had done what he must, and Halsin had finally given into exhaustion. Hopefully what people said about Elves only sleeping to heal was true. All that could be done without magic had been.

Despite his efforts, despite the Blood of Lathander, despite the lit torch, one haunting lingering anxiety for which no curse could be blamed lingered in Tav’s mind.

That fever, the dark magic in that would could kill Halsin in his sleep, and there would be very little Tav could do about it.

He fought his own tired body to the last, just to watch his breathing.

Just in case.

[meloncholy-words]

Robin: A Word That Means Run (Chapter 1: Nightwing)

Nightwing hasn't been Robin in years. He still remembers what that name means in a situation like this.

A/N: I'm not going to apologize for any inaccuracies in lore and characterization. If canon can fuck off and do whatever they please than I can too. I'll try staying as close to what I know as canon as possible but also I do what I want lmao.

~~~

Chapter Warnings: Explosions, minor gun violence(no one gets shot but there are guns), canon typical violence(nothing graphic/explicit! it's just there), swearing, Scarecrow's fear toxin (though the effects of it happen off screen), mentions of past violence, mentions of injury(stitches, concussion, etc.). No permanent injury or death occurs! Let me know if I should add more warnings!

AO3 | Chapter List

The case was simple: Scarecrow was shipping out vials of fear toxin to buyers from other cities. There were five buyers; one from New York City, Washington DC, Brooklyn, Metropolis, and Blüdhaven. All that they had to do was intercept the sales, arrest the buyers, and run tests on the toxin to check if it was a new strain. It usually wasn't, but it never hurt to check. If it was, that would mean that Scarecrow was planning something big.

The issue was that all sales were happening on the same night, and all in different parts of Gotham, with not enough vigilantes to handle all of them.

Red Hood was investigating a new business of dealers near his territory, trying to gauge how much of a threat they were so he could take them out. They were experienced, and growing fast; if he didn't nip it as fast as he could, it might grow out of control and start becoming an issue.

Spoiler and Black Bat had had a recent run in with Killer Croc, and were both benched due to injuries. Steph had a sprained ankle, and many stitches all along her arms and back. Cass had a dislocated shoulder and concussion, as well as many stitches along her legs and torso. Both were lucky to have not gotten worse.

Signal, despite insisting that he should go, was out of commission. He'd already worked well into the night shifts the previous three nights due to several kidnapping situations that happened too close together to not be connected, but ended up just being very coincidental. That, plus his need to keep his grades up, had him pretty sleep deprived. While not usually an issue, a fourth night out later than he should've been would've only made it worse, and fear toxin with sleep deprivation was one of their absolutely nots.

That left only Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing to deal with busting the sales. Four vigilantes to deal with five sales in five separate locations within the city. No problem, could be done very easily.

Nightwing had gotten the sale in Fashion District. The information that Oracle had been able to dig up lead him to an alley behind a two-story boutique. An unusual meeting place, but better than some abandoned warehouse. That was just becoming cliche at this point.

He was perched on a rooftop above, blending into the dark, clouded sky. It wasn't as efficient as the shadows, but he had been yet to be spotted. A car was already waiting, three guys twiddling their feet as they waited. The buyers, undoubtedly. Nightwing sat studying them from above.

Their car was a black SUV, covered in family stickers. Likely to be more inconspicuous, but could've been from one of their moms. Criminals were just like that sometimes. Two of the men were obviously well built, their frames on the bulky side. The third wasn't quite so built, but he seemed relaxed as they leaned back against the metal frame of the car, so he wasn't just some lackey dragged along. Likely a getaway driver, maybe the leader of this operation.

After around 15 minutes of sitting around, a van pulled up to the entrance of the alley. The driver stayed inside, while the the passenger and a few men from the back hopped out. The gimmicks of their outfits told Nightwing that they were Scarecrow's men. One of them was carrying a briefcase, which he identified as the goods.

The three guys snapped to alert, the leaner man taking charge. That clued into him being the leader. They met each other half way, a conversation springing from hushed voices. Nightwing strained to hear what they were saying, but that wasn't the important thing. What he needed to do was stop the sale from happening.

He monitored the men for a bit longer, listening to them speak. They were haggling, probably. If they sale went through, than he would need to apprehend all of them. If it didn't, he'd only need to deal with Scarecrow's men. The others would be their own cities problem.

"My sale fell through," came Red Robin's voice crackling through the comm in his ear. "Moving in now."

Below him, the leader gestured back toward the car. One of the bulky men moved towards it, opening the back and pulling out a small duffel bag. He handed the bag over, and Nightwing shifted to get a better look at the bag that was being opened.

Yep, that was cash.

"My sale is going through," Nightwing said into his mic, hushed. "Moving in."

Before the trade off could happen, Nightwing slipped off the ledge of the roof quietly. He angled himself slightly, making sure that when he landed it was on the lean man's shoulders, sending him shooting down to the ground under the weight. The man under him grunted as he hit the ground, letting out a wheeze. He wasn't unconscious, but he made no move to get up. Probably due to the pain of being slammed into an alley's concrete floor from roughly 180 pounds from above.

"Gentlemen," he chirped in greeting, electrifying the ends of his escrima sticks before flipping of the man under him towards the other two. The men reached towards their waistbands, likely reaching for a gun, but it mattered little when the electricity pressed hard above their collarbones. They spasmed, muscles stiffening under the shock, before collapsing as he pulled back.

Scarecrow's men gasped, followed by shouts and the sounds of feet scuttling away. Nightwing grabbed the lean man's collar, tossing him towards the other two. He dropped a bead in between them that exploded, wrapping cord around their limbs and tying them together.

"I'll be back for you!~" he called in a sing song voice, spinning around to watch the henchmen loading into the van. He pulled one of his sticks up, letting the hidden grapple inside of it shoot into the side of the building. The van roared to life, and Nightwing used the momentum of his lines tension to propel forward, landing on the roof as the wheels screeched against the road.

"Sale went through, moving in," came Robin, and from the sounds of exertion coating his voice, he was a little late on that callout.

The van wiggled underneath Nightwing's grip, trying to shake him off. Nightwing acquiesced, his hands gripping the edge of the top as he forced his legs down and through the windows of the back doors.

Several more shouts filled the air, and Nightwing was quick to silence them. He was also careful to not shatter the fear toxin that had been dropped on the floor in the struggle. The passenger in the front whipped around, and Nightwing was distantly aware of the glint of metal pointing towards him, but he snapped the wrist pointing the gun at him before he even recognized it as a gun.

The henchmen yelped in pain, and then did it again when his head was slammed into the dashboard. Nightwing hopped over the seats, landing on top of the unconscious body, his feet resting in the lap of the driver. In his hands, a stick came to life with more electricity.

"You gonna pull over?" he asked, smile in his voice as he waved the shocked-up end at the other. The henchmen let out a small whimper, leaning away from the weapon. Nightwing almost felt bad for him as he screeched off to the side, obeying.

When all of the henchmen were tied up, and Nightwing had doubled back to make sure the almost-buyers hadn't managed to escape, he notified the police before sitting back on a roof, basking in his victory.

"All involved are apprehended and waiting for police custody, and the toxin has been secured," Nightwing said, stretching out from where he was sat. The men didn't put up much of a fight, but the few blows the did land would probably bruise in the morning. Probably. This was a surprisingly easy run. "Reports?"

"Scarecrow's men are being tied up now," Red Robin replied, his voice soft after the fight. "Toxin secured"

"All involved apprehended," came Batman, who hadn't given the status earlier, the asshole. "Toxin secured."

"You never notified us you were moving in," Nightwing said helpfully. Not that it mattered too much; he was Batman, he'd be fine. "I'll start moving into the last sale now. Send me the location, O." Then, after a beat, "Robin, status?"

There was a brief stutter of silence. Nightwing hardly noticed it as he crossed from building to building, careful not to break anything. Hardly.

"Robin?"

"All involved apprehended," came the shaky voice of Robin. Uh oh, not good. "Toxin secured, one... one vial broken."

Shit.

"Try staying calm, I'll head your way," Nightwing said, spinning on his heel to where Robin handled his sale in the Narrows. It was on the opposite side of Gotham, but he'd be damned if he didn't do anything to-

"Actually," cut in Oracle's voice, "You should get over to Diamond for that last sale. You're the closest, and if all other sales are finished by now, that one might be close to done, or already finished. Red's the closest to Robin, he can go."

Red gave an affirming hum into his mic. "On my way, hang tight Robin. ETA like... 12 minutes."

Robin didn't respond, which made Dick's heart stop, but he turned back to his original path. His family was reliable, and they'd be fine. Stopping this sale was important, and he wasn't even close enough to object.

"I'll go with Nightwing," Batman said, voice gruff and focused as usual. "If they're wrapping up, and he gets there too late, I can keep speed with the batmobile."

"Acknowledged," Nightwing acknowledged as he soared over the gaps between buildings. "ETA 5 minutes."

Those five minutes were rather silent, only filled with his heavy breathing and grunts and he hopped and rolled around and off the rooftops. The vials in the briefcase he had pressed against his ribs clanked together ominously, but there was not breaking glass yet. He hoped there wouldn't be.

This time, the place of sale was some old, rundown warehouse. Nightwing gently set down the briefcase on the roof, dropping through a shattered skylight and moving like a spider in the rafters. There was arguing below him, loud and... not quite angry. No, it was frustrated, and building up to anger.

"I'm just saying, that seems like a high price to pay for something we don't even know works." The accent suggested Blüdhaven. Good, these were his own criminals then. He could handle that just fine.

Nightwing slipped around the rafters a little more until he had a clear view of everyone. He took a quick headcount. Five of Scarecrow's men, and he thought he saw another van outside, so probably more in total. Seven men stood before them, and Nightwing thought he recognized them from a gang who caused a lot of problems for him. It was hard to tell in the dark. This warehouse was so run down that there wasn't even any lighting in here.

"Twelve counted inside, likely more spotted outside," he said into his mic, his voice kept low and even as the men continued to argue. "The outcome of this is probably gonna be a big fight, so have your rebreather on just in case."

Nightwing slipped his own rebreather over his mouth, fastening it tight behind his head.

"Understood. I'm pulling up now."

The arguing below softened, and Nightwing was struggling to hear what was being said again. He did notice the exchange of bags, though.

"Good, the sale just went through. You're just in time."

Once more, Nightwing dropped from the sky like a missile. This time, he focused on the henchmen, as the gang men had the fear toxin. He had to be careful to not break them open. Even if he had his rebreather on, fear toxin wasn't fun to deal with.

These henchmen put up a bit more of a fight. Not good enough, of course. The metal pipe to the back of his head was, though.

Four of the five of Scarecrow's men were down, and what knocked him off his feet was a metal pipe. Damn. He tucked and rolled with the blow, bouncing up on his hands and knocking the weapon away with a kick. He was back on his feet, escrima sticks in both hands and poised to fight when a shadow descended upon the others.

The fighting only increased with a new player in the ring, but it was easier this time. Batman wrestled the briefcase of vials out of the gang's hands, tossing it on the floor behind him and out of the crossfire. The final henchmen had been forgotten in favor of the others. By the time another four men were down, Nightwing had realized that it was a mistake.

A click of metal made Nightwing whip around, arms raised and ready to either take or deal some serious blows. What he saw, instead, was a grenade mid air, heading fast towards him. It bounced off the ground, nestling against the briefcases handle.

Nightwing's muscles tensed, crouching low and fast, the hold on his weapons loosening. He needed to grab the briefcase. If the toxin blew, everyone without a rebreather would be affected. Dealing with a large number of criminals was hard; dealing with a large number of criminals who were terrified out of their minds and fighting like caged animals was hell.

His eyes flicked over to the grenade, and he hesitated. That wasn't good. You never hesitated on the field like this. But he knew those grenades. Most had plenty of seconds of fuse in them, for optimal range. If a grenade blew up too quickly after it was thrown, you'd get caught in the crossfire. But these ones, the one that had been thrown his way and was nestled against too many vials of fear toxin, was very short fused. The best way to take out a bat was to surprise them. That was very hard to do.

Using a weapon with no guarantee of survivability for the user was a good way to do it.

Nightwing wouldn't have time to move, not anymore. Maybe if he'd jumped at first, he could've gotten far enough away. But he was crouched down low, leaning toward the thing rigged to explode in at most two seconds, one hand reaching forward. His mind processed, vaguely, that he should run. Maybe he could run still, maybe, but would his body catch up to his thought process? Probably not. It hadn't even registered he was in danger yet.

Shit. He was going to die, huh? Or at the very least get badly injured. He was going to maybe die because he was too slow to recognize danger and his body was even slower to respond to his mind's commands and-

"Robin!"

His body moved before his mind caught up this time. He didn't know why. He hadn't been Robin in, what, 8 years? 9? But he new that name. He new that tone. He'd heard them both countless times over the years. And when they were paired together like this, when his veins were full of adrenaline and his stomach felt like a pit of ice, it meant run.

So he did. His legs pushed up, and his hips turned so fast he might've gotten whiplash, and his arms reached out until they found something firm and dark and safe. There was the flutter of a cape, and then there were strong arms around him, grabbing so tightly that the skin and bone underneath them ached.

There was an explosion. He didn't feel it. He could hear the sound of it, the gunpowder igniting and swelling into a cloud of fire. He could hear shouts and shrieks around him, groans and yells and maybe something breaking. He could feel his side grinding against something he recognized as the floor, but it felt distant.

He could feel his face pressed into a chest, coated in a thick material that had repelled knives, bullets, and wandering hands and fingers that traced the bat design on it after he had saved someone that he would gag about later in the back of the batmobile because he was too small to ride shotgun.

The floor under him stopped moving, and the screams had cut off. He peaked an eye open, looking up at the roof of the warehouse. There was a face there, with a chiseled jaw and scars that were small enough they could only be seen up close. There was black material that only covered the top half of that face. Above them was a thick substance in the air. Fear toxin, he registered after a few moments.

Slowly, the two bodies pulled apart. A hand was under his arm, guiding him up to stand. A survey of the area showed no deaths. Everyone unprotected had at least been far enough to only have been blown back. No missing limbs, no cuts, no burns. Just a few bruises.

"Are you guys okay?" Oracle asked, a hint of panic in her voice. "Cameras showed a bright light go off inside, and your vitals are off."

"All good, Oracle," said Batman, still surveying the scene. "There was a little explosion. No one seems seriously injured. Everyone else is unconscious, though, and there's toxin in the air." He didn't mention calling for his Robin.

"Good news about that!" Red Robin chimed. "It's not a new strain, which means we have antidotes on standby. Also, Robin's doing alright."

"Hn, good. We'll tie up loose ends here and head out. See you at the cave."

There was a round of sign-offs, and the two in the warehouse began rounding up the unconscious thugs. Toxin seeped out of the skylight above. The henchman that threw the grenade was nowhere to be seen, likely having fled during the chaos.

"I left my case of toxin up on the roof," Nightwing said when everyone had been restrained. He didn't mention the name either.

Batman let out a hum of acknowledgment. "I'll be waiting for you in the batmobile to head back to the cave." The flutter of a cape - one that had protected him - let him know that his dad was gone.

Nightwing climbed his way up to the roof once more, slow and deliberate. His body ached a bit more, now that he'd taken more hits and had been thrown across the floor. Being thrown by an explosion wasn't fun, 0/10, would not do it again.

Despite that, there was a smile plastered on his face.

Dick kinda liked being Robin again.

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

Rolan's lisp headcanons:

Inspired by this post [alt]

A/N: I am not a doctor. I am not claiming that Rolan's voice actor has a lisp IRL, nor am I speculating on the causes of his lisp IF he has one, this post is nothing more than me reaching for angst for one of my blorbo's. Does Rolan have a lisp in-game? It sounds like he does to me, but maybe he doesn't have a lisp and that's just how his accent sounds to my uncultured US American yee-haw ears. --- This specific post is not a lore breakdown, it is pure speculation and conjecture. Some actual lore-breakdowns are linked to provide the canon sources that led me to these headcanons. I posited the information below as though it is factual because it is true for my headcanons, not because it is actually canon.

Content: Angst, a nonmedical-professional speculating on medical things.

TW: physical trauma, brain/head injury, anxiety/stress, child abuse, species-targeted violence*, orphans, homelessness, real-world parallels to discrimination.

*A/N: I am taking a page from WotC and using the term "species" instead of "race" because of the real world connotations that "race" has. And frankly using real-world terms like "racially targeted violence" when discussing a fictional world seems disrespectful to the very real people who must contend with it in their actual lives. And such terms hit too close to home— I'm ethnically ambiguous and pale enough that I don't have to worry about racially motivated violence in my day-to-day life, but many of my family members and loved ones don't have that privilege.

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A/N: (Hard facts are in green, information bookended by green * is info that I'm fairly certain is factual— everything else is headcanon.)

● (Section 1) Possible reasons why Rolan has a lisp:

Rolan was was born with an articulation disorder:

Rolan's speech impairment was much more pronounced (pun unintended) when he was younger.

He taught himself how to speak Common despite his disability because he wanted to be a wizard, who needs to be able to properly pronounce the verbal components of a spell, and because he was severely bullied about it as a child— as it was yet another thing that othered him.

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Rolan has a forked tongue that makes it difficult for him to speak Common:

(A tiefling specific physical reason why he has trouble speaking.)

A/N: (I don't think that any of the tiefling character models in game have a forked tongue. But based on what I know about tieflings, at least some of them should have a partially or fully forked tongue.)

"The speech of subjects with bifurcated tongues, while intelligible, shows a higher proportion of perceptibly atypical fricatives and significantly greater variance than seen in the control group." Source *Translated into layman's terms: While having a spilt tongue makes it noticeably harder to clearly enunciate and correctly pronounce words, people with a forked tongue are still able to be understood when speaking.*

Keep in mind that the test subjects in the above study were adults who had already learned how to speak. They already knew where and how to position their tongue when speaking, they just needed to adapt to speaking with their newly forked tongue.

Rolan had no one to teach him how to speak common with his naturally forked tongue.

A forked tongue is required to properly speak Infernal , so his lisp serves as yet another reminder of his infernal heritage.

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It was caused by an improperly healed injury:

Unfortunately, prejudice against tieflings is very common in the realms. *Rolan grew up in* Elturel, a city that tolerated tieflings better than most (until the Decent into Avernus). *A combination of moral superiority and* strict laws enforced by the Hellriders meant that Elturel had a very low crime rate.

In a city where cursing in public could get one into legal trouble, who could ruffians take their aggression out on without penalty? Street children, specifically tiefling street children. Without any adults to look after or protect them, many orphaned/abandoned tiefling children have to resort to stealing to survive (like Mol)— which unfortunately feeds into the stereotype of tieflings being criminals.

Committing a crime against tiefling urchin would be easy to get away with. Because who is the city guard going to believe— a purportedly good and upstanding citizen who was simply defending themselves, or a gamin devil-kin thief?

Before descending into the hells overtly hateful prejudice against tieflings was kept behind closed doors and away from polite company— it would be uncouth to be openly intolerant. The holier-than-thou people of Elturel looked the other way when injustices were committed against tieflings.

After Elturel was retuned from the hells openly displaying anti-tiefling sentiments became socially acceptable and widespread amongst the non-tiefling populace of the city. *Before the tieflings were banished violence against them had dramatically increased in Elturel. (Which sadly meant that the general levels of violence tieflings faced in Elturel now matched Faerûn as a whole.)*

Rolan was abandoned by his human parents because he was born a tiefling. Even if Rolan wasn't a street urchin and had instead been taken in by an orphanage or a temple; his prospects there weren't much better, maybe even worse, than being on the streets. (Rolan was, at some point, thankfully adopted by Cal and Lia's mother.)

Rolan would have suffered because he is a tiefling— either at the hands of the orphanage's/temple's care-takers and/or from the other unwanted children (Rolan is intelligent and magically gifted, jealousy is a hell of a motivator for school-yard bullies), or from criminals/assholes who wanted an easy target, or all of the above.

All of this to say: Rolan was, likely repeatedly, subjected to species-motivated physical violence when he was a child, causing him to receive an injury that never properly healed or that permanently damaged a portion of his brain that controls speech/speaking.

"Neurological disorders, such as stroke, brain injury, or dysarthria, can affect the brain regions and neural pathways responsible for speech production. A disruption in the neurological pathways can lead to difficulties coordinating and controlling the muscles involved in speech, including those of the tongue and lips. As a result, individuals may struggle to produce specific sounds correctly, potentially manifesting as a lisp." Source "Dysarthria can be caused by conditions that make it hard to move the muscles in the mouth, face or upper respiratory system... [which] control speech. Conditions that may lead to dysarthria include... Brain injury... Head injury." Source "An injury to the tongue or teeth can also cause a lisp." Source

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Rolan developed it as an adult due to stress:

Everybody responds to stress differently, and sometimes our bodies respond in strange and unexpected ways— such as developing a lisp.

"...anxiety and stress can cause a lisp. This is more common in adults than children." … "Stress and anxiety can surprisingly trigger or exacerbate lisping..." Source 1, Source 2

Reasons Rolan has to be stressed TF out before the events of BG3:

*Abandoned by his biological parents because he was born a tiefling.*

Grew up in an abusive orphanage/temple, in the streets, or both.

He is a tiefling, a species of humanoids in Faerûn that look like devils and are heavily discriminated against because of it.

*Rolan is the oldest and most responsible sibling.*

*His adoptive mother died, either before or during Avernus— leaving Rolan in charge of caring for his younger siblings.*

*Rolan and his family grew up poor, he knew that his magical talents could pull them out of poverty* and he trained incredibly hard to hone his skills without a teacher.

*Due to his lack of proper schooling*, and because his lisp prevents him from properly pronouncing the verbal components of spells, Rolan had to make his own versions of common spells.

He feels responsible for Cal and Lia's wellbeing, and is willing to go to extreme lengths/endure extreme things if it means he can provide a better life for them.

He doesn't truly believe that they consider him their brother/family.

Elturel, his home, was pulled into Avernus for at least a tenday.

He and his siblings had to survive actual hell.

Tieflings were blamed for the city falling into the hells because they look like devils, *leading to violence against them.*

He, his family, and all the other tieflings were exiled from Elturel because they were tieflings.

*He had to leave behind almost everything he had worked so hard to acquire.*

Reasons Rolan has to be stressed TF out during the events of BG3:

He has been roughing it with the other refugees for gods knows how long.

If he takes too long to get to Baldur's Gate he risks his apprenticeship, *his one and (thus far/possibly) only chance to learn how to become a powerful enough wizard that he can support his siblings.*

The druids are threatening to kick them out of the grove.

If they are forced from the grove everyone will be slaughtered by goblins.

Some meddling adventurer convinced his siblings to stay and help protect the other refugees instead of making a break for it on their own.

Wyll is a devil now!?

They traversed through the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

Insane, murderous, cultists attacked the tiefling caravan intent on slaughtering them.

Zevlor (seemingly) betrayed them.

His siblings were captured by said insane, murderous, cultists *because he wasn't strong enough to protect them and the children at the same time.*

That asshole adventurer is back, and they save him and his siblings again.

Baldur's Gate is refusing the refugees entry into the city.

Lorroakan doesn't let Lia and Cal stay in the tower.

Lorroakan is an abusive fraud.

He has to help the Nightsong and the adventurer fight Lorroakan.

He is suddenly the master of Ramazith's Tower and owner of Sorcerous Sundries.

A Netherbrain is set to attack the Gate and take over the Sword Coast.

He promised his help in the fight against said Netherbrain.

He has to figure out how to get the tower's arcane cannons, *which Lorroakan had neglected and allowed to fall into disrepair,* up and running before the final fight.

Just to name a few.

● (Section 2) Rolan's lisp misc. headcanons:

Rolan's lisp gets worse when his is tired or stressed.

It is ironically easier for him to speak clearly when he's drunk (up to a point) because he's used to struggling to pronounce words.

His adoptive mother taught him where to position/how to move his tongue when speaking common with a forked tongue.

Part of the reason he speaks in such a haughty tone is because doing so makes his words more clearly pronounced/enunciated.

His siblings only teased him about his lisp once when they were children, Rolan was so distressed that they vowed to never tease him for his speech impairment again.

Lia got into several fights when she was younger with kids who made fun of Rolan's lisp.

He might as well be a wild magic sorcerer with how often his spells have gone awry because he mispronounced a verbal component.

He is deeply self-conscious about his lisp.

He holds the forks of his tongue together, even when his mouth is closed, which gives him persistent tension headaches.

Once he gets comfortable enough around a romantic partner he stops (actively) trying to suppress his lisp around them and his siblings in private.

● (Section 3) Rolan's lisp forked tongue NSFW headcanons:

Because he has adapted to speaking common with a split tongue he is able to independently control both sides of his tongue.

His tongue is strong because he constantly flexes it.

His tongue is long. While this makes it harder for him to speak, it also leaves his partner very satisfied.

You know you're fucking him real good when his begging words start to slur together.

His ahegao face is top tier.

The amount of time it takes him to recover his ability to speak after an orgasm is increased by how mind-blowing said orgasm was.

[iateyourfav]

Beastification - Chapter 1

Cid sends the Bad Batch on a mission to rescue a certain Mr Beast from the grasp of Jabba the Hutt. After they retrieve him, something changes. There's something different about Mr Beast and they can't tell for certain what it is. Will they ever get rid of Mr Beast?

The Bad Batch x Mr Beast

Tags: sfw, Crack fic, slow burn, Mr Beast AU, I'm trying to be serious about this.

CW: the y/nification of Mr Beast, mentions of child abduction, canon violence, indication of mpreg (sfw), Mr Beast talks to a invisible camera, Lore breaking content

Words: 881

Will update on Wednesdays and Sundays

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Read on ao3

Cid hadn‘t told them much about the mission, as usual, but still, something felt fishy about this one. What was most suspicious was that Cid had this slight smirk on her face the entire briefing while she neglected details on whatever would await them at their destination in favor of talking about how they would thank her for this mission once they come back.

Tensions were high on the Marauder. Everyone hoped Cids indications would mean better payment this time around. While Omega was asleep in her Gunner Mount/Room the rest of the batch gathered in the cockpit.

Wrecker, who sat in the copilot seat, broke the silence first. „I don‘t know what’s going on with Cid and this mission. I just hope we‘re gonna get paid and not killed.“ He crossed his arms, pouting.

„It will be a rather simple extraction. To be completely honest, calling it a pick-up would be more fitting. We will meet the target on Mos Eisley. Though I do wonder how they ended up there and why we are sent to bring them back. This mission seems to mock our abilities“ Tech replied, sounding just slightly angry at this extraction not having to make use of his heightened intelligence. „We‘re approaching Tatooine.“

Hunter leaned against the back wall, brows furrowed. He didn’t like this. Usually, when they were sent on simpler missions, only two of them would go, but Cid insisted they would need all hands on deck on this one. It didn‘t make sense to him. Deep in thought, he almost didn‘t notice the small hands pulling on his arm. 

„It‘s gonna be fine, Hunter, don‘t worry. It could be fun!“ Omega smiled up at him, excited as ever. Of course, she had never been to Tatooine before, so that fact alone made her excited to go through on this mission. Though that excitement quickly vanished.

“You‘re staying on the ship. The mission is simple, but we‘re not gonna take you into Jabba's Palace. That place is swarming with scum.“ And with that, her smile dropped.

Hunter knelt down to be able to talk to her face to face. „It‘s for the better. It‘s nasty in there, you wouldn‘t wanna see it anyways.“ Her patted her on the shoulder before standing up again. By this time they already entered the atmosphere of the planet and were getting ready to land in front of Jabba‘s Palace.

Shortly after leaving the ship the batch found themselves in front of the massive doors leading into the Hutt's Palace.

“I‘ve only heard horror stories about this place. Can‘t say I‘m excited to go in there.“ Echo commented with an already disgusted look on his face, despite not even having entered the building yet. „It‘s gonna be a quick job. We‘ll be in and out in no time. We just pay the bail and leave with the target, that‘s it.“ Hunter responded.

This triggered an annoyed huff from Wrecker. „Great, another mission where we can‘t blow anything up.“ The gates were opened for them and quickly after placed in front of Jabba to state their business.

„We‘re here to bail out one of your captives.“ Hunter tried to keep the conversation short, not desiring to speak to the Hutt more than necessary. Tech handed over the payment to one of Jabba‘s servants at the same time, also wanting to leave as fast as possible. To nobody‘s surprise, all of them felt uneasy in an establishment like this, with bounty hunters all around.

The protocol droid finally translated whatever Jabba was saying. „Your prisoner will be brought up shortly. Jabba wishes for you to leave with him as quickly as you can, he can not bear to hear any more of his voice.“

Just then their target was brought in, a sight to behold. He walked in, with the most dazzling blue eyes any of them had ever seen. Body moving in a perfect curve, hair just shaggy enough, and beard perfectly trimmed. He looked at them, one after another, through perfectly curled lashes. 

It took Hunter hitting his shoulder for Wrecker to snap back out of this state of hypnosis. „Wrecker, get him.“

His cheeks turned slightly red before going up to the hostage and taking him from Jabba‘s guards. They immediately made their way towards the exit. Wrecker tried to ignore the fact that he was guiding this incredibly attractive man out of imprisonment.

The man‘s head turned towards him, ever so slightly and elegantly, like every movement he had seen from him so far. „THANK YOU.“ he whispered. This wasn‘t directed at them as a group, but exclusively at Wrecker, making his face grow even hotter. He could only muster up a grunt as a response, feeling flustered.

Omega waited for them in front of the Marauder.

“I told you to stay inside.“ Hunter shouted towards the girl, slightly irritated. „I‘m fine. I got bored so I wanted to at least wait outside for you.“ she yelled back. Then, her glance shifted from Hunter to the hostage her brothers were bringing with them. Her eyes widened, jaw dropped. 

Everybody stopped in their tracks, expecting the worst from Omega‘s facial expression. A ambush, maybe. But her eyes rested on their acquired target.

“Woah, is that Mr Beast??????“