#impractical magic au

[thatmexisaurusrex]

WinterFalcon Bingo Round Two 2022-2023 Masterpost

Here is my masterpost for my fills for the WinterFalcon Bingo Round 2 2022-2023 hosted by @winterfalconevents. I have no clue how I did so many yet didn't make a bingo 😂 My fills are:

Midnight Lover (E, 3.7K, Vampire AU) - Sam Wilson has a lover. Someone he only sees at night. Sam knows can't possibly last. But Sam keeps seeing Bucky Barnes, nonetheless.

Before You Go (M, 1.6K, There Was Only One Bed) - On a dark and stormy night while Sam's house sitting Sarah's place in Delacroix, he hears a knock at the door...

my mind has changed my body’s frame (but, god, I like it) (E, 9.1K, Free Space) - Sam Wilson finds his soulmate in a hole-in-the-wall bar. Things escalate from there.

Impractical Magic (M, 10.7K, Spell Gone Wrong) - Sam's family is beloved by their town, charmed with all sorts of gifts. However, like everyone in his family, all of Sam's lovers are cursed with bad luck.

A Feast of a Man (M, 4.2K, Deal with the Devil) - Sam Wilson is an incubus. He's also asexual. It's... a little complicated, but not as complicated as you'd think. It gets a little more complicated when he meets Sarah's new neighbor, Bucky Barnes.

come along now (run away) (M, 10.7K, Growth) - When Sam Wilson was twelve years old, Sam met Bucky while Bucky was looking for a friend in the woods. Ever since then, he's been meeting the mysterious boy every Halloween night.

Five Times Bucky Got Dirty... ...And the One Time Bucky Got Sam Dirty (M, E, 6K, Don't You Dare, Didn't Know They Were Dating) - Five times Bucky gets dirty around Sam. The one time Bucky got Sam dirty.

Playing with Fire (M, 17.5K, Post-Blip, Gay Chicken, Fake Marriage) - A year after events of The Falcon Captain America and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky go on an undercover mission and end up playing gay chicken while pretending to be a married couple.

For the Holidays (M, 25.6K, Blind Date, Wrong Number, Bad Pickup Lines) - After Sam is dumped by his girlfriend, Bucky suggests he pretends to be Sam's boyfriend while Sam's visiting his family for the holidays.

You'll Never Be My Maybe + You're My Always (M, E, 19.4K, Secret Relationship, First Time) - Is Sam Wilson dating Bucky Barnes?

[quinquangularist]

AAAAAAAAA HOWLING AND SCREAMING IM NORMAL IM NORMAL IM NORMAL /POS ;0;

@quinquangularist umm I just found out that you posted the witch!tubbo fic that I’ve been looking forward to for ages now and I’ve never felt greater betrayal than this

(for some reason the tubbo in this au gives me feral/flirty vibes but like in a contained kinda way, don’t ask why)

Link to the fic -> Impractical Magic

[bloomeng]

everyone mourn my batman in a skirt designs you will be missed (ignore the roughness)

[dashielldeveron]

Binding Magic and Other Medievalisms | 1 | Shinsou Hitoshi Series Masterlist Summary: after sixteen years of civil war, you are just about to retire from your position as court mage when you're roped into an arranged marriage to finalise the oncoming peace. to shinsou. your childhood friend, turned an infuriatingly annoying spymaster for the opposing side. too bad the binding spell between the both of you won't let you murder him in his sleep. medievalist fantasy au for an enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage between two people desperately trying to get out of it. to what lengths will they go to 1) shirk the responsibilities brought on by their marriage while 2) ensuring the country doesn't erupt into civil war again?

Warnings: female reader, violence (war + wartime consequences).

~4k

It’s back-numbing work, robbing the dead.

But if you kept your head down and the tattered shawl over your hair, no one would guess that the House of Yamada’s mage was scouring between bodies piled along the edges of the battlefield. On your hands and knees, you could pass as any one of the other scavengers, tottering along the border, all shapeless and matted and unsexed, though you knew most of them to be women.

In the sharp, cold air, nearly two hundred men lay as if they never had the spark of life in them. Your stomach had turned under salty tears the first time you’d scavenged post battle, hardly having the mettle to yank gold from fingers, but as the years passed, the men seemed less real to you. Less like a human and more like a vessel.

Through the blood-crusted folds of a quilted cloak, you spotted a glint of silver. A badge, perhaps, or insignia—you always needed more of those to melt down to resell; something had to fund your work—but you hissed when you pricked your finger. You first moved to lick the blood but, remembering where your hands have been, wiped it on your dirt-caked trousers instead.

And here, you’d thought anything of value had been gleaned by now, since it’d taken you so long to give the lords the slip—but as you squinted, crouched in the black mist of early dawn, you made out something extraordinary—or, at least, something Keigo would willingly fence: a blade no longer than your middle finger, not silver but iridescent if you got it out of shadow, with an almost translucent-blue gem in its hilt. You recognised it by its size: it’s what they call one of the Impracticals. Meant to be hidden in the palm of a glove, and, moreover, fae-made.

You scrutinised the body. Human. No gloves. A scabbard at his waist for a larger blade, empty. And this one hadn’t even been in a pocket but shoved amongst gathered fabric. He’d stolen it.

You stowed the blade in your tunic, apart from the rest of your findings, and you slowly stood to stretch, vertebrae popping. Best to keep scavenging. An abrupt departure would signal you’ve found something of worth.

Somewhere behind the wood, the sun was rising, and the battlefield finally stretched on past your feet. If you hadn’t been a part of it, you’d never have guessed which army had started the skirmish on this side, considering how close in number the colours of both the House of Yamada and the House of Aizawa marked corpses. Thank God this would be the last time you saw it.

You moved in silence from body to body, working less meticulously than you normally would. You’d left the handkerchief you’d tie over your face back at camp, and the stench of drying blood, wet wool, and rotting meat was making your head throb.

You stiffened at the sound of a faint groan, pulled from beyond the mound of bodies you knelt by. In these sixteen years of civil war and your thirteen of scavenging, you have only found soldiers still alive three times. It was rare, since the winning army combed the field post battle to kill any surviving wounded. All of your encounters were found when you were young enough to merit requesting help from your elders. Now that you’re well past coming-of-age, you’d have to somehow deal with it yourself.

Pulling the shawl closer about your shoulders, you crept towards the sound, searching each body for the rise and fall of a chest underneath the chainmail and leather, but—you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Someone struggling to prop himself upright against a tree, having dragged himself from the carnage, trailing a sludge of blood in his wake.

Reaching for your wand, you slithered towards him; you shoved his chest against the bark (eliciting a pained grunt) and yanked back his hood, ready to tear his hair out if he tried anything—

You stopped. And you laughed.

“My esteemed Lord Spymaster Shinsou,” you said, straddling his waist to block his access to his scabbard, scanning the twitches of his bruised and bleeding hands for sudden movements, savouring the scorn painted on his grime-smeared face, his violet eyes as sharp as the rightful king’s blade even at death’s door, “Never thought I’d see you trampled like this. Is it because the sun’s rising? Does a man not have shadows to slip into, to lick at his wounds?”

Shinsou’s quick to grab the hand that tilted his chin up, though he panted harder after the movement and took effort to swallow. “Get off of me before I gouge your eyes.”

“You can’t touch me,” you said, grinning, and you removed his hand, slamming it back against the tree and appreciating how he winced. “Your master’s surrendered. We’ve won. If you harm me, I can only imagine what they’ll do to you.”

Shinsou shifted underneath you, sweating and clutching his free hand to a bloodstain on the side of his stomach, scrunching his eyes shut. “God knows you’ve wanted my head for years. You’d really give others the satisfaction of taking it? Kill me here. Now. In any way you want. You’ve earned it, haven’t you? Crow about your triumph to the world or let me fall as a casualty to war,” he said, chest heaving, “I had rather die in battle than in—”

From somewhere on his belt near his wound, he jabbed a dagger towards your closest flesh, your inner thigh, but—you didn’t have to hide it around Shinsou—you caught the blade with magic, white-hot and invisible, swirling between the dagger and your palm. When Shinsou, frantic in his loss, moved to bite down on his tongue, you jabbed your first two fingers and thumb between his teeth.

“Not so, Shinsou Hitoshi. I know you.” You flung the dagger to the sea of bodies, magic softening the noise as it landed to prevent scavengers from swarming. “Fortune smiles not on you today,” you said, dragging your middle finger along the roof of his mouth, “You and I will live to see another sunrise.”

***

You’d tried to escape the moment they’d decided that there would be no change in regime but simply a change in current leadership.

But, having grown accustomed to it over the years, Prince Regent Yamada caught out of the corner of his eye the flutters of your billowing coat as you made to slip out of the window, already grasping at the ivy climbing up the stone wall to the castle’s third storey. “You’re needed here, Court Mage,” said Yamada from his place at the head of the table, silencing the dozen or so leaders of both factions, navigating the aftermath, “No matter how much your studies are missing you.”

Bound by your patron’s hard gaze and the weight of pausing a meeting with such gravitas, you eased your weight back onto the window’s ledge, and once you’d draped your skirts and cloak around you, settled, Yamada lowered his hand, voices erupting around him again.

Strange to see those you had struggled against for so long to advocate diplomatically for their share of power, to walk about the castle freely, to sleep in the chambers of friends whose deaths they had caused, and in this cramped, sweating room, where the future of the six provinces would be decided, the losing side appeared to flaunt their freedoms: Kirishima was allowed to have his swords on hand, Lord Midoriya to take his private notes, Lady Yaoyorozu to provide tea—though Lord Aizawa, perhaps, had shown that their previous violence could be tamed through asking Bakugou to reheat his tea with fire magic.

Good to see your old, estranged friends, you supposed, even if they were too important to care to speak to you now.

(The House of Aizawa had surrendered. Treaties had been signed; policies refined; trade resumed; families reunited. Restoration had been underway for more than a month now; the castle town filled with construction crews hired from across the six provinces. Nobles jumped at the chance for recreation now that they had the chance to engage in it once again, so hunting parties ventured out every day, and a celebratory festival was planned.

Yamada remained regent, but supporters of the House of Aizawa were still unsatisfied. To them, it seemed less like a welcoming into a fold of forgiving peers, as publicised, and more like the quelling of a rebellion.

King Nezu’s death prompted a civil war of succession between the Houses of Yamada and of Aizawa. In his youth, King Nezu had named both Yamada and Aizawa as his heirs, and he’d intended to narrow his choice based on how well they each passed trials of his own design—unheard of, but Nezu had always been an eccentric—but he’d passed without holding the trials.

The nobility took sides. Grew violent. Gained public support.

Growing up as his ward, you’d never garnered that Yamada wanted war, but you have heard enough of his anger to merit it.)

“There’s no precedent for co-regents. While yes, it’d be a gesture at peace, it would either devolve into another faction war upon your deaths or dissolve into anarchy. If Lord Aizawa, as a sign of submission, assumed the role of counsellor—”

You plucked at a new leaf of ivy, still wet-fresh and curled into itself. The machinations of government have always exasperated you, and now that they were unavoidably in the same chamber, the idea you’ve been entertaining for the past few weeks cemented: you would retire your position as Court Mage.

Sixteen years of wartime service was enough to recompense for a noble’s education, yes? Yamada would not miss you, nor would anyone else in court—you were more of a tool than a person, really, with your low birth. Nothing kept you here; the stresses of war had weakened friendships, and too many ghosts from your commoner past haunted the lower floors.

“You have no legitimate children,” said Yamada, pen intended to write the terms of the treaty flat on the parchment in front of him, and he spoke as if Lord Aizawa’s wince never happened. “Nor can I wed you. I’ve taken a vow of celibacy to enhance my magic.”

You’ll leave Yamada’s service. Build a cottage in Tiirnham Wood, where you won’t be reached by anyone who isn’t desperate. You’ll only study magic you care for and won’t be responsible for anyone’s lives ever again.

Hell, you could take a nap. Read what you want. Get a cat.

“—then name an heir, for fuck’s sake,” said Lord Bakugou, twisting his bone ring around his index finger, “Both of you. They can marry, unite the houses, and consolidate the lines of succession into one.”

“To unite the houses sounds like a deliberate show of faith. The heirs would need to be selected from the most valuable members of each house.” Lord Todoroki blinked blearily, tucking behind his ear the white hair that had fallen out of its slicked-back style. “Perhaps, for public understanding, it would be best to select heirs from the leaders present in this room.”

Yamada wouldn’t want the Court Mage position to be open for long. Could you arrange for someone else to take over? Keigo was your best bet, but he’d long established that he was content to run his shop in town.

Grimacing at the thought of taking an apprentice, you caught a bee before it could drift inside. You cupped it with a globe of lightly swirling air magic and guided it closer to your lap, where it ambled about in its ball, releasing a surprised bzzt when it first knocked into the side.

You’ve avoided taking an apprentice, because studying for yourself to keep up with magic was gruelling enough. Plus, it’d mean you have to find some kid, someone who has the drive to commit to a career when she’s hardly out of childhood. Maybe you could keep an eye on the children training as pages to ascertain if anyone tires of the idea of knighthood. You could talk Captain Iida into giving up a soldier, right?

Wait, but training an apprentice could work. It would give you time to find or build a cottage yourself, to furnish it, to establish all the barrier spells to be left alone, and to…yeah. Yeah, this could work. Yamada would have a deadline for your departure; he’d have a replacement, so no one would go searching for you. And you’d have a place to go home to.

You floated the globe an arm’s length outside the window, where you released the bee back into the air, and as it buzzed erratically into the distance, your chest felt considerably lighter. A glorious thing, to consider—a quiet life. Living deliberately, following your own desires, instead of someone else’s. No more politics. No more war.

The strident call of your name startled you so abruptly out of your thoughts that you gripped the drapes and window’s ledge to keep from falling out. “Come here,” said Yamada, sighing as he released vox, his vocal magic (he must have called your name before he’d gotten your attention).

When you reached the head of the table, Yamada, for some reason, took your right hand to make it lie palm up, and he planted his right hand atop it—and he’d already inked the runes on the back of his hand, the spell taking effect the moment his skin touched yours.

Yelping, you strained to pull away your hand, but the spell held you fast, its light passing through each etched rune, their characters fading as the spell progressed. But you made out the scratching of Midoriya’s pen and remembered where you were and what was happening: you cannot show weakness in front of the conquered, and you cannot protest that you’ve been made Yamada’s heir. It’s an honour (Todoroki, in particular, you knew would be suited to serve, and moreover, he wanted it) but one you dreamed not of.

When the last rune faded, you jerked your hand away, shaking the prickliness out of it. “Dear God,” you said, grumbling, “Are there not worthier candidates, your grace?”

Yamada raised an eyebrow. “Were you not listening?” Uh. “We decided to name our most valuable assets as our heirs. Considering that you, my dear, are both my beloved ward and gifted Court Mage, there is no one better to offer as a sign of good will.”

And he’d drawn the runes before calling you over, because he’d known you’d refuse.

Seems like sixteen years wasn’t enough.

Yamada reached for Aizawa’s hand to draw the runes for his heir-naming, and people were standing, stretching, reaching across the table to have smaller conversations with others, talking about going for a ride later, about dinner and the entertainment, and you were—you were lost. What did they know that you didn’t? Why were they starting to leave, as if the meeting were finished?

You turned towards your patron and his old friend, and your stomach lurched in understanding. Aizawa needed no time to consider his options for heir. With the slightest turn of his head, he beckoned closer the one man in the House of Aizawa you have yet to acknowledge.

Peacetime suited Shinsou Hitoshi. The stresses of war had hardened his expressions, made him sharper and gaunter, almost pinched, but here he stood, broad-shouldered and infuriatingly placid about his life’s imminent upheaval. He moved silently and with ease to Aizawa’s side, footsteps light despite his bulk. The stab wound in his abdomen and the gash in his left calf had healed annoyingly swiftly within the past month. When he placed his hand under Aizawa’s, Shinsou’s eyes were on you, cold, glinting, and pinning you on the spot.

You cannot believe that your childhood friend grew into this.

“A fair sacrifice,” Aizawa was saying, withdrawing his hand from Shinsou’s and nodding towards Yamada, “My spymaster for your mage.”

Yamada laughed, a wide, echoing thing that you’ve always connected with happier memories, but before he could say anything, young Lord Midoriya cut him off.

“Excuse me.” Midoriya closed his notebook at last and moved to stand, his allies trailing towards the chamber door. “It is not my intention to argue. I agree that this is the most utilitarian solution moving forward. However,” he said, pushing in his chair, “when I consider the past relationship of the heirs, I fear that our houses’ differences will not be resolved. How can we ensure this marriage will genuinely unite our factions?”

Todoroki glanced at Yamada before answering. “What do you mean?”

“Their hostility is well-known, even beyond our province. I—” Midoriya bit the inside of his cheek, ears flaming red (Bakugou laughed through his nose and looked away. What do they know that you don’t?). “Not that I’m saying that love must be a contributing factor in a political union, of course; I’m aware there usually isn’t, but—and I’m not saying they would, by themselves, murder each other—necessarily—but since it’s widespread that they aren’t fond of each other—”

“I see where you’re going,” said Yamada, stroking his goatee, and he angled his chair to face you.

(Ice has been flooding your veins since the spell was cast. You’ve stood stiffly behind Yamada’s chair, eyes glazed over, words barely processing, and utterly sick to your stomach.)

“I normally wouldn’t consult a party involved,” said Yamada, “but since you’re my Court Mage, you’re the one to ask. How effective are love spells?”

You sniffed. Cold in here. You wiped at your nose, hands shaking in your otherwise stilted movements. “Not very,” you managed to say, jaw tight, throat dry, “They’re effective for a time, depending on the strength of the caster, but they always wear off.” (And that was the truth, but no way in hell are you casting a love spell on yourself and Shinsou.)

“Ah! Figures,” said Yamada, shaking his head, and he caught Aizawa’s eye across the table. “Well, we wouldn’t want something that flimsy, regardless. Love is so fickle. Public opinion wouldn’t be swayed by a simple display of emotion. It could end at any time. No, to prove that this peace is here to stay, we’re not talking about love. We’re talking about commitment. Something to show that the peace is lasting and permanent. A proverbial bondstone.”

Okay, now you were sick to your stomach.

“My beloved Court Mage,” said Yamada, turning back to you, and a hard glimmer passed through his eyes. “Enlighten us. Is there anything we could implement to establish a true permanence to the peace through your relationship? A type of magical objuration, perhaps?”

Feeling the eyes of the room weigh on your back, you swallowed thickly but kept your own gaze on Yamada, willing him to somehow understand that you were not going to say it, that he was cruel to make it seem like your idea, when he’s only ever used bondstone and objuration in the context of what he’s about to make your fucking fault—

“I hesitate to speak, your grace,” you managed to say, dry throat constricting (supressing the choked noise), “There is possiblya solution, but it’s—” You sucked in through your teeth, minutely clamping them down to threaten Yamada. “—a fae spell.”

(Todoroki halted in bringing his teacup to his lips; Midoriya’s knuckles whitened around the strap of his rucksack. Taking a sharp breath, Bakugou cleared his throat and glanced towards Aizawa, who nodded at him to close the door to the chamber again.

[Shinsou remained still.]

Humans couldn’t use fae magic without some major drawback, usually physical. It was different for each spell and varied for each magic user; any fae spell could murder any human, whether it’s the first time they cast the spell or the hundredth. Something about the inherent, magical makeup of fae allowed them to create and cast more complicated and powerful magic, but humans were too mundane, too worldly, too bound to the soil they tread, to practise any magic not learnt through careful study, besides the magic for the naming of heirs.

Therefore, only humans who have studied to be as magically protected as possible should cast fae spells, and, at the moment, you and Keigo were the only two in the nine provinces qualified to do so.

Neither of you liked to risk it.

[Moreover, Yamada has ordered you repeatedly never to use fae magic without his permission. “It’s never worth it,” he’d say, “and you’re too valuable. Save it for when you’re older, yeah?”])

“Even better,” said Yamada, clasping his hands together, “The chance of death will heighten the value. Tell us more.”

The room tilted. Felt like your stomach turned inside out. Dizzy, you gripped the back of his chair, clenching your fingers around the carved wood, doing your best to stay upright, and blinking to stay focused. “Your grace, if Lord Shinsou and I were to be united by a covenant spell, then—then we would be bound for life. Unable to be separated for long. Created under a union of permanence. And, to alleviate what Lord Midoriya mentioned earlier, Lord Shinsou and I would be unable to kill each other. By any means. It’s a type of magic first invented for—” Glancing around the room, you realised no one would care about the history of fae magic, and you somehow deflated even more. “—similar diplomatic solutions.”

At Aizawa’s careful tilt of his head and narrowing of his eyes, Yamada propped his chin on his fist and said, “Then it sounds like you’d better start studying, Court Mage.”

You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation. You moved woodenly as Yamada guided you to a seat and forced a cup of tea into your hand, all the while dominating the conversation with Aizawa and Todoroki, and you fantasised in a detached sort of way about ripping into Yamada once the two of you were alone. And Yamada, that jovial, gentle bastard, would probably fold as he usually did at your anger, and he’d probably apologise and explain himself, leading you to make up as you usually did, within the hour (charismatic bitch). But a floating, distant thought surfaced through the numbness: you might not make up so easily this time.

The taste of cooled tea lingered on your tongue.

A bead of sweat trailed down your shirt and between your shoulder blades.

Liquid splashed onto your lap. You blinked and found your hands were shaking, so you returned your cup to the table, where you lay your hands flat, palm down, to steady yourself.

You tried to ground yourself by focusing on the grain of the wood, running vertical underneath your fingertips—but it lasted hardly a second.

Shinsou, silent as ever, had appeared by your side and snatched your left hand into his. But he didn’t bow over it, as etiquette dictated; he merely held it, rubbing his thumb over its back, as he glared down at it with a cold disdain. “My dear lady enchantress,” he began, voice slick.

(And you teemed with vexation, because that’s yet another of Shinsou’s aggravating traits: he has always known entirely too much, especially when it comes to you, often knowing some truth about you before you’ve articulated it yourself. He’s always held that above your head, even before the war.

Once again, he’s flagrantly displaying that he takes pains to find annoyingly accurate information when others were willing to pass it by: while your title is Court Mage, you’re not actually a mage. You primarily study enchanter magic. If someone isn’t studying magic themselves, then it’s hard to know the differences in the disciplines. And not only has this bastard learnt the differences, he’s figured out how to apply it to your studies.

God. He’s the same as he ever was. How infuriating.)

Brow furrowed, Shinsou flipped your hand over to trace his fingers over your palm, following the life line and then backtracking to circle your ring finger. An easy grin stretched across his face once he noticed your quiet fury, and, running his tongue over his lower lip as he glanced towards his master and yours as they trailed out of the chamber, Shinsou bent to look you in the eye and spoke softly, almost conspiratorially, as if you were sharing an old joke: “Are you yet living?”

[pomefioredove]

the fact fellow in one universe says he doesn't wanna be around so many stuck up brats potentially fakes his death. W his lil bro.

And then gets a card aka moves into ramshackle to add to it

like

man traumatized these kids for life says nah yall kids SUCK I AINT MOVIN IN THERE . MONTHS LATER. Howdy hey kidding. Been awhile huh. The headmaster let me in. Cuz I knew he would let me in if I used afew pretty words

again the ramshackle au is so impractical and funny. imagine being one of the guys and going like "oh that's the crazy guy who tried to eradicate all magic that one time" and then "oh that's a 26 year old man who used to kidnap little kids. Hey wait why is he even here Is he even allowed near schools"

[tummypjotime]

Intro

(This is essentially a sort of backstory, all snippets will practically take place within the same vore au unless stated otherwise)

Something Percy had learned since he was introduced to the Greek pantheon was the concept of tummy time. It had other names too, but that’s how Percy would refer to it in his head most of the time, since it was the term used the first time it was explained to him. It didn’t have the same meaning as when mortals talked about tummy time, when a baby is placed on their stomach so they’ll lift their head and thus train their neck muscles. When gods and demigods talked about tummy time, they meant a practice of a godly parent or older sibling putting you down for a nap or soothing you or just spending quality time with you by placing you in their tummy, as in their literal stomach, that apparently doubled as the pouch of a koala or a kangaroo, except this pouch is usually accessed through the mouth. The gods could also sort of, magic you inside. If anyone had ever put their kid in their tummy through the… other… opening, Percy hadn’t asked, because he didn’t want to know.

The first time Percy had tummy time was after a particularly terrible nightmare. He’d woken up in his cabin cold sweating and heart pounding. His father had turned up after a few seconds and picked him up in his arms. It might have seemed pathetic for a thirteen year old to still need to be cradled and soothed by a parent after a nightmare, but mind you, Percy had been through situations a tad more terrifying than most thirteen year olds and could care less about being embarrassed over an adult having to comfort him.

Poseidon had rocked him back and forth slowly while whispering soft reassurances that he was here, that Percy was safe. He’d felt small in his dad’s arms, though with how dark it was in the cabin, he couldn’t tell for sure how small. The gods would sometimes shrink you down to swallow easier. They’d also grow larger themselves sometimes, but that was a bit impractical when you’re indoors. Percy had calmed down somewhat and was half asleep when he felt his dad change his grip on him. He was lifted up and vaguely noted some warm silky material lightly squeezing his feet. It pulled him downward into a soft tube, his father’s hands keeping him steady. He felt a warm breeze against his face before another squeezing sucked him further down the tube, its warm walls enveloping his legs just above his knees. Because of his pjs, he could only fully feel the silky surface around his feet, though. The process repeated two or three times until the hands let go of him and he slipped fully down the tube. The walls rhythmically constricted around him as he was pulled further downwards. Percy found the feeling odd, but it was oddly comforting, like a full body hug.

He was dropped into a sort of velvety sack. It was soft and plushy and when he opened one eye a little, he saw a soft blue glow lining out the folds of the walls and worked kind of like a nightlight. It was cozy in there. It felt like he’d been wrapped up in a weighted blanket and it was mostly quiet aside from a steady ‘ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump’. A weight pressed against him through the walls cradling him and he heard his dad’s voice vibrating around him.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe within me. I’ll keep you safe.”

Percy fell asleep quickly afterward, free of any nightmares.

It didn’t fully register in his mind until the next day that; ‘Wait a minute, did my dad actually eat me?’ Because he hadn’t been fully awake, he wasn’t even sure if it really happened or if he dreamt that part. He mentioned it as a weird dream to Annabeth later, hoping that he sounded somewhat indifferent about it.

“Hm, I miss tummy time,” Annabeth mused, apparently Percy hadn’t properly implied it to have been a dream. “My mother seems to think I’m too old for that now.”

“Do… all gods swallow their kids?” Percy asked, perplexed.

Annabeth looked at him a little surprised.

“Well, yes. As far as I know they do. Everyone here has had tummy time in their godly parent’s stomach at least once. Or, well, at least the claimed ones have.”

Once he learned what it was, he also noticed that the topic was rather freely talked about. If one demigod was absent from an activity, the others would assume he or she was having tummy time. Someone would talk about a nightmare and add that they could go back to sleep after some belly cradling. You would look for one of your friends and their half siblings would tell you their godly parent was holding them right now. Different cabins had tummy time at different frequencies, which seemed to be from different parenting styles by the gods. The demigods in cabins 6 and 9 usually had only ever had tummy time once or twice while the demigods in cabin 7 seemed to have tummy time up to twice a week.

If you knew what to look for, you could sometimes spot a god at camp cradling their kid in their stomach. They’d sit in the shadow of a tree, or stand leaning against the wall of their cabin. Some would have a visible bump on their stomach while others would only give away what they were doing through the way they’d rub their abdomen with a fond look on their face.

It was odd, Percy wouldn’t deny it, and it was also a very vulnerable position to be in. But he found himself liking it. There was nowhere else where Percy felt as safe and comfortable enough to be so vulnerable as he did tucked away within his dad’s bioluminescent light, the muscles encapsulating him softly rocking him back and forth, soothing him for whatever has him worried, stressed or scared. Poseidon’s heartbeat was sometimes accompanied by his voice, telling Percy about the diverse ecosystems of the oceans, from the shallow sea of Azov, to the deep mariana trench, or, when Percy had woken up from nightmares, soft lullabies from the ancient times in Mycenaean Greek. At those moments, Percy could actually feel at ease.

If you have any feedback to give, please do! This is my first ever attempt at writing vore, and while it is first and foremost for self indulgence, I always seek to improve my writing skills

[fireandspiceland]

Summing up some spicy cardverse thoughts from a conversation with Art @coralcatsea and ArtTea @artea-artie because they are too lovely to keep them hidden <3

♠️💚♠️💙♠️💚♠️💙♠️💚♠️💙♠️💚♠️💙♠️

Cardverse au where Queen Arthur is a powerful mage, but what no one (not even the Queen) knows is that Alfred has 1 (one) magical ability and it is reading the thoughts people have about him which contain strong emotions. Arthur’s mind never shuts up, and while Alfred does get quite a kick out of knowing this Queen is thinking and fantasising about him almost 24/7, he sometimes finds himself in rather.. impractical situations. 🤭

As ArTea suggested it's particularly fun to consider this in an enemies to lovers setting, where they loathe each other at first - the royal born prince who became king and the queen who stems from peasantry and has yet to make peace with his new role? - but slowly Arthur's feelings towards Alfred turn from fantasies about violently breaking their divinely chosen bond to... still violent fantasies, but now he is sexually torturing Alfred in his mind. Those once malicious thoughts that craved nothing but the worst for the other, turning into not-so-innocent fantasies of a tear-stained Alfred calling out Arthur's name.

Alfred wonders why he hasn’t been hearing any malicious thoughts from Arthur in a long while (which would be at a time they where they finally start to get along) just for him to suddenly get hit with this- What does he do with that information? It's the first time he encountered such a malicious thought about him. 😆

Queen Arthur and King Alfred sitting next to each other at some official event in the throne room, suddenly there’s thoughts of him being made to undress and kneel before his Queen with tears of shame streaming down his face, broadcasted directly into Alfred’s mind. Needless to say, he’s unable to leave the event so he’s forced to sit there and act like he’s not feeling like melting into a puddle. Through the event Alfred is unbelievably fidgety, enough that it even gains Arthur’s attention - who of couse asks Alfred about his strange behavious. He tries to brush it off, but does it in a manner Arthur finds adorable - blushing and stuttering - which only worsens the fantasy as it inspires the imagination within Arthur. 🔥

Arthur sits up a little straighter and with his legs slightly spread while thinking about Alfred sucking him off there on the throne. Meanwhile Alfred is slouching in his seat, hoping to disappear while he keeps biting and licking his lips and glancing at Arthur’s groin. Arthur catches of course and thinks Alfred is having similar thoughts, but he doesn’t know Alfred knows what he’s fantasising about and it all just continues to get worse.

As Art put it so well: The cycle just continues. Self-fulfilling prophecy. And then Arthur catches him later and tries to call Alfred out for his behaviour (bonus kabedon possible) and Alfred is like, "But YOU-!" but he can't finish that, because it's supposed to be a secret that he heard and saw Arthur's fantasies before his own inner eye.

And sometimes when Arthur is around Alfred, he notices him getting hard for "no reason" and assumes Alfred just really likes and has a lot of dirty thoughts about HIM. When really it's ARTHUR'S dirty thoughts that keep causing it. ❤️

[chaos-has-theories]

Character concepts for the Mad Scientist/Girl Genius AU I'm working on for AU Roulette 2024

More description and story concept under cut.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng: GIRL GENIUS

a Spark from the city of Paris. While she doesn't have a particularly impressive lineage, her talents are impressive.

Her focus is on textile based inventions, with her breakthrough project having included a small viscose spinning device.

She also builds little clockwork ladybugs.

After she managed to piss off every single noble family in Paris, she essentially went into exile. Since then she's been travelling and doing assorted heroics all over Europa.

She's got her shirt and waistcoat because everybody in GG wears them. No skirt, because it would impractical in her field of work; long jacket tails because a) I like them and b) Ladybug wings :D

She's also supposed to have a Ladybug locket and her little silk gun, but. Forgor

Before she leaves Paris, her outfits are more like Circus Era and Classic Agatha.

Nino Lahiffe: A normal guy with a normal life

No, really.

Well, he used to be, okay?

Former classmate and childhood friend of Marinette's

Marinette, Adrien and him were essentially inseperable after Marinette's breakthrough.

Except no, they weren't, because Adrien is still in Paris while Nino followed Marinette into exile.

People tend to assume that he's either Marinette's minion or her construct or both. She doesn't consider him a minion; and while he's taken his share of damage, he has never died once.

(He is very proud of that.)

The reason why he doesn't break his neck once a week is that Marinette is very good at her job. His outer shirt with the hood works as like, exoskeleton, hardhat and airbag in one.

His outfit and general style are inspired by Lars, specifically here.

Alya, Last Princess of the Lost City of Cesaire

what it says on the tin.

Descended from one of the last God-Queens

in the face of all that, only a rather minor spark.

Also, her science kind of... looks like magic to most europeans.

and anyway she doesn't want to be a scientist!!! she wants to be a warrior

her mother agreed that she could go on a trip and just come home and learn princessing once she's seen everything she wanted to see

THERE IS ALWAYS MORE TO SEE

joined the Miracle Squad about a year ago, because a) they're fun and b) Nino is very cute even if he can't flirt to save his life (and it has come up)

Based on both Zeetha (who gave her the bare biceps) and Violetta (who gave her the boots), but the outfit really is mostly Rena Rouge

Adrien Agreste, son of the famous Spark and heir to the House de Vanily

???

went to school with Marinette and Nino for a while

in recent years, has only been seen in public during Important Events

perfect dutiful son

like, he does everything his father tells him to!

definitely human though.

100% perfectly completely human

Marinette definitely never had to resurrect him either

Never seen in anything less than a fully buttoned shirt, long sleeves, and full slacks.

I have a design for him based on Classic Gil, but this is fully grieving madboy Gil (+ skirt + happiness + catboy :3)

All of these pictures are sketched over the basic character images for ML and I didn't really feel like shading but... maybe one day

[coinlockerrbaby]

Guys Verlaine if he wasn't a loser and also was a magical girl from hit animanga series Madoka Magica 🙀🙀 (and also a gal :3)

get ready 4 my yapping (and better quality close-ups) below!!!!

Okay so in this AU them and Rimbaud r both 19!!!

Verlaine's wish was to bring Chuuya back after he went missing; Chuuya disappeared at 5 and was gone for two years before Kyuubey showed up.

In this Chuuya's 14 and came back @ 7 so Verlaine would've made their contract at 12!!! (They've been a magical girl 4 a hot minute)

They still keep a lot of the whole "I'm not human" edginess but this time it's over being a magical girl (bro did NOT react well to finding out abt the soul gem thing). Them nd Rimbaud have a bit of a better relationship than canon cuz Rimbaud's also a magical girl so Verlaine actually feels understood in this universe.

Story-wise they both were doin pretty good until an amount of circumstances led to them having to kill Walpurgisnacht on their own. While they did succeed, they both had completely used up all their magic and were gonna become witches </3

Rimbaud pulls a Madoka and sacrifices himself with their only grief seed :( Verlaine's forced to kill Rimbaud (or the witch that used 2 be Rimbaud el oh el) and it fucks him up a little :3

Verlaine's super devastated cuz bro lost the only person who understood them and they essentially gave up on living; so they decide to just start killing witches (and quite a few magical girls!!!!). It doesn't take long for them to transform into their own witch and get killed (probably by Chuuya nd Dazai) </3

OK DESIGN DETAILS!!!

Their weapon is a sniper rifle, it's magical so they can summon it but only one at a time so not like Mami's many revolvers!! It can shoot lil mini black holes and it's pretty fancy :3

Also close-up of the Soul Gem this took like 4 tries to look okay </3

Their outfit's pretty similar, I gave them like a huge coat that they don't rlly wear cuz it'd be so impractical in battles </3 also the design on their gloves and tights are supposed to mimic brutalisation :3

(also if u look real close they have heterochromia yippee!!!)

MY FAV PART THE WITCH FORM

The runes (hopefully) spell out Guivre cuz that's the name of Verlaine's witch form :3

I wanted to reference what's described in Stormbringer so the "tail" nd "head" are inspired by that tomfoolery!! It's also supposed to mimic a dragon with butterfly wings instead of normal wings (idk why i drew butterfly wings they're just fun ig) and it also has horns :3

The lil halo thing in the back's supposed to look divine in a way????? also it just looks cool

meow

Im gonna draw Rimbaud in the future but 4 now I'm done yapping thanks 4 reading this :3

ALSO this started like 2 years ago when Pinterest did this!!!

and then my wife drew the first iteration of magical girl verlaine...

:3

[thecryptidgrey]

As an avid lover of his Dark Materials I have yet to see a BG3 daemons concept and that is a Crime. So here are some Thoughts below the cut :)

(Also something something about the representation of religion in HDM and how it correlates to BG3's depictions of faith and trauma. I have the Idea but I am too tired to do much with it; may return to the thought later.)

Shadowheart- a borzoi. Elegant, spooky looking, dramatic. Borzoi don't make much vocal noise but are very playful- instincts surpressed by Sharrens that thrive with the party (see that very cute night orchid scene specifically). Generally very sweet, loyal animals, like SH when you get to know her. Plus they look amazing.

(Act 3 spoilers- I also appreciate that she'll match it when she dyes her hair. Seems suitable dramatic for her.) Anyways, I also really like borzois and think it's be funny af to see in them trotting around in game like the weird willow tree ghost things they are.

Lae'zel- Githyanki don't have daemons; she finds them baffling. Very impractical to carry one's soul on the exterior, although perhaps an efficient companion in combat to have someone you share instincts with. After much discussion by the others she decides for them if she did have one it would be a red dragon. Nobody argues with that.

(She does decide she'd have to prove herself worthy of such a beast first, and if she trusts Tav admits that maybe she'd like if Vlaakith could give her a daemon bond with her future dragon. Would she get a dragon if she became Vlaakith's chosen? Idk, she would now.)

Karlach- Tieflings also don't have daemons. She wants one wholeheartedly. The party finds her a magic ring that allows her to summon a familiar- she gets a direwolf puppy as enthusiastic and adoring as she is :)

Said ring is obtained somewhere in the Shadowlands after she gets the cooldown upgrade so she can hug it as soon as she has it. Also it grows up absolutely massive. Its paws are the size of its head when it's a puppy. All the better for cuddling with!

Gale- Tara. Wizards, sorcerers, etc, tend to have magical creatures as familiars. This AU he had Tara since the beginning. He still summoned all the other weird shit he did as a kid, just with Tara's help. She is his voice of reason and holder of the braincells; he gets to keep one and it's all about Mystra. She's protecting the rest from its corruption. He gets them back when the party convinces him to tell Mystra to go fuck herself.

(I do chew upon the trans Gale headcanon sometimes. If anyone wishes to muse with me on how daemons, which are typically of the opposite sex to their human, would be incorporated into that, please do.) Edit- pls see comments for very illuminating interpretations of daemons and gender!! Very cool stuff!

Wyll- lanner falcon. Medium sized yet formidable bird of prey, the head of which was often depicted on Egyptian gods like Ra and Horus. Beautiful, noble and nimble creatures (good for a dexterity based build, which I focused on for him alongside charisma).

Mizora's pact significantly lengthened their tether; her devil-form punishment broke it and weakened their bond significantly, much to their distress- they hate to be out of vision of one another as a result. Halsin, Jaheira and especially my Tav Cerewyn helped him adapt to and understand the new tether.

Druids and their daemons are based on the His Dark Materials witches, who have significantly lengthened bonds. Druid bonds are just as strong in markedly different ways; each is more independent and their personalities more distinct. I will definitley expand more on this; I adore Wyll and really want to do his character justice. He's the knight in shining armour but he also made a deal with a devil to be said knight, so, y'know. His daemon should really reflect that complexity.

Astarion- luna moth (changed when he turned- he can't remember what she was before.)

Beautiful in a fragile, showy way. Short-lived. Desperate for the light. A silkmoth; silk for embroidery. He resents her for being such a reflection of the self he tries so desperately to hide yet is fiercely protective of her, so beautiful and soft and hopeful- moths exist to seek light, craving it like he longed for a knight in shining armour, like he yearns for the sun.

Cazador liked to pin her wings.

(I love my sad wet cat very much and so as payback for hurting my soul he is subjected to the tragedy that is my attempting to be poetic :) )

Halsin- bear. Druid daemons reflect their favoured Wild shapes. Strong, steady, reliable, protective. Optimal shape for snuggles, very nice and warm, overall :) vibes to look at and be around. (Bear is not present for That Scene. That Scene and daemons are not up for discussion, you degenerates. Thank you <3)

Jaheira- Eurasian lynx. Struggled a bit on this one- didn't think any of the wild shapes suited her as a daemon- so looked up the national animal of Romania (supposedly Jaheira's accent?) for potential inspiration. Got the lynx, which seems perfect. Medium sized, elegant, very dignifed and deadly hunters who inhabit forests. Notably very quiet and hard to track. Endangered, which resonated with me because of Jaheira's status as one of the last of the Old Guard, so to speak. Nocturnal, which I like because we meet Jaheira in the shadow-cursed lands. Ambush predator, which just goes with my Gloom Stalker build for her. Overall seems perfect for the legendary druid.

Minsc- Boo? Fuck knows man, Minsc gonna Minsc. I spent way too long thinking about Jaheira and now I don't have the energy left. If Gale can have Tara, Minsc can have Boo. I do love Minsc so I will be back to expand on him if the mood strikes me but also I think maybe I don't need to? Daemon Boo just seems Right. Will consult Minsc's backstory and update later if necessary.

Minthara- yet to recruit her so uncertain. Displacer beast seems apt, maybe? Something felinoid would really fit her tbh. Elegant and lethal, very aloof but loyal once you've got her. Input would be appreciated.

My Tav, Cerewyn, just in case ya'll are interested- a raven named Gwyn, short for something I haven't figured out how to spell yet.

Clever, calculating, very blunt and sarcastic to balance out Cere's generally stoic, quite, calm demeanour. Sharp eyed bird for a sharpshooter ranger's daemon. Cere is a beast master ranger/ druid of land multiclass; ravens are summonable both for wild companions and familiars and are a wild shape (Cere's preferred wild shape too).

A common species but not to be underestimated and generally unpredictable, which suits her. She romances Astarion and both she and the raven think he and his luna moth are the prettiest things they've ever seen. They're also very patient and perceptive of trauma due to (Extensive Backstory), so they're more than happy to take their time with earning his trust. Astarion is very appreciative of all the shiny things the raven likes to bring him, and also that it clawed one of Cazador's eyes out for daring to speak to Astarion like That.

CONC.; symbolism is fun and also painful :)

Daemon names are a work in progress; the muses gave me this then said lol nope and fucked off before I could ask them for appropriate names. Might post them with some sketches of the party and daemons together?

(I wrote this in Notes app at an ungodly hour with fuck all editing. It is incoherent, but if anything is genuinely incomprehensible, please tell me so I may at least try to fix it. Much love <3 if you made it this far you get to know I welcome suggestions for NPCs to give daemons next!)

First edit- I misspelled quiet so many times omfg

[satirn]

i am once again redesigning the Dib design for this au /ref.

i wanted him to have more of a cia fbi esque vibe in this, but still goth like siouxie and the banshees, with a touch of like precure magical girl in it, ykwim. that general vibe feels very dib to me.

it also looks more practical for battle than the other one i think, though with the bigger and longer cape and platforms it can be difficult to move around and not get caught on things. this, seeming to have practicality when its very impractical, is generally the point in my ngod au designs :3

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Writer_Lethogica's Table of Contents

THE TABLE OF CONTENTS HAS ONCE AGAIN BEEN UPDATED. Anyway, reposting an updated Table of Contents for my AO3 works. You can check it out on AO3 by section here:

1) MCU Fics (Mostly SamBucky, but also SamSteve, SamRiley, Samquin, Samdall, etc.)

2) 9-1-1 Fics (Mostly BuckTommy, but there's a HenRen one in there)

3) IWTV Fics (I have a Loustat fic)

Or, if you'd like to see the Table of Contents here, it's under the cut!

MCU Fics (Mostly SamBucky):

Canon Divergence:

The Bucky Quest Saga, which tells the behind the scenes story between Sam and Bucky post-Captain America: the Winter Soldier through to The Falcon and the Winters Soldier and beyond that

A Captain and His Bucky which is what if Bucky was the original Captain America, Sam has been Captain America since the events Avengers Movie, Steve Rogers is the Winter Soldier, and Sam found Bucky thawing from a chunk of ice in SHIELD headquarters during the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier and has now taken him in to help him navigate life in the future

My Aaron Davis/Peter B. Parker Fake Marriage Enemies to Lovers Fic You're a Sunflower (I Think Your Love Would Be Too Much)

My Heimdall/Sam Wilson Post-TFATWS Fic Series, Loving Are All-Seeing Men and Midgardian Captains

Sam Wilson finds himself in a very strange game show with some asshole named Bucky Barnes, The Marriage Game

Two clubbing feelings with porn SamBucky fics. One that happens post-TWS during Bucky's European Tour and one that happens during the black market art auction nightclub scene in TFATWS. The fics titles, as well as this collection title, are based on lines in the song hand crushed by a mallet by 100 gecs, I didn’t get to tell you goodbye

A story about Sam and Bucky finding out that Sam's dead husband Riley is a Winter Soldier, Captain America, The White Wolf, and the Winter Soldier

A story about Bucky hearing Sam truly laugh for the first and a bonus series of vignettes about Bucky's twenty-three goats and their pun names, Sam and Bucky's Cabin

Time After Time, or my Sorcerer Supreme Sam Canon Divergence Fic

Back in the Gulf, where Sam Wilson tries to figure out where he fits in the world post-blip and if he wants Bucky Barnes to be part of his life.

My All Caps fic, sometimes that's all we need, an Endgame Canon Divergence where everyone lived, no one went old and went to the past, and Steve and Bucky are competing for Captain America Sam Wilson's love and attention

Five Times Bucky Got Dirty and the One Time Bucky Got Sam Dirty, a two-part fic about five times Bucky got dirty around Sam and the one time Bucky got Sam dirty

My gay chicken, post-blip, accidental undercover fake married fic, Playing with Fire

My Valentine's Day Fic about Sam Not Knowing He's Actually Dating Bucky, You'll Never Be My Maybe.

Meanwhile... a short two-part fic about Sam and Bucky figuring out their love for each other while on a mission.

My Gideon Visits and Shenanigans Ensue two-parter, A Surprise Visit

The Beyoncé Trilogy, a series of three fics inspired by the Beyoncé songs "Blow", "Cuff It", and "Texas Hold 'Em" that take place during an alternate version of CATWS.

Fantasy AUs:

My Fantasy/Medieval/Arranged Marriage AU, Golden is the Sun

His Wingless Stranger, which is a "What if WWII Bucky fell off that train into a world that spliced Tomorrowland with Hiyao Miyazaki and Sam lived in a future society where everyone has wings?"

My Zombie AU, ESCAPE TO WAKANDA

My Apothecary Meets Prince Who Accidentally Becomes His Apprentice Fic Series, The White Wolf Apothecary

My Star Wars AU, Star Wars Episode IV.V: The Phantom Hookup

Fairytale AU, The Little White Wolf

A story about monster Hunter Joaquín meets Vampire Sam and Werewolf Bucky in a bar, Joaquín Torres Monster Hunter

The Two Strangers, A post-apocalyptic future western SamBucky AU on a different planet

My Practical Magic inspired AU, Impractical Magic

My matelotage Pirate!Sam, Merman!Bucky fic, Reaching Out For You

My Future Kid Fic, Pre-Vampire Apocalypse fic Canary in the Coal Mine

My Selkie and Pirate two-part love story, The Selkie and the Pirate Elect

My If You Were the Last AU, The Hypothetical

The Midnight Lover, my bittersweet Vampire AU

My Percy Jackson and the Olympians AU, Sam Wilson and the Olympians

No Powers AUs:

My Single All the Way AU, A No Snow Christmas

My Popstar AU, The Only Thing That I Refuse to Forget

My one fantastic impromptu date fic, A Night With You

My airport chase confession fic My Best Friend's Brother

My Bachelor AU, If I Take You Home

My Christmas Fake Relationship Fic, For the Holidays

From That Show, my Sitcom Actors!AU

My High School AU fic, Walking and Running to You 

My Anthologies:

The SamBucky Halloween 2021 Anthology I made for the SamBucky Halloween 2021 event the SamBucky Library is hosting

The WinterFalcon Week 2021 I participated in that's being hosted by the WinterFalcon Week tumble

The Nine Short Dates with Sam and Bucky ficlet series I made

The Sambtember Ficlets and Drabble Anthology I created for the Samtember event hosted by the Sam Wilson Fest tumblr

The Kinktober Collection 2021;

Water They Waiting For anthology series. It's 9 writers, 19 stories, and a lot of sexual tension involving water

My SarahBucky fics for Fleur de Louve Month2021

My SamBuckyTorres anthology, Captains and Falcons and White Wolves, Or My!

My collection of three fics for the MYSU Holiday Gift Exchange 2021!

My collection of fics based on the SamBucky Library's Candy Hearts Event 2022, SamBucky Library's Candy Hearts Event 2022 Fic Anthology

My collection of stories inspired by my the Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary on my tumblr, The Daily SamBucky Fluff Diary Auxiliary Stories

My collection of fics based on the 2 card of the MYSU Valentine's Day Bingo 2022, MYSU Valentine's Day Bingo 2022 Fic Anthology

My collection of fics based on the photos in post by hot-chocolates-world on tumblr, The Tush Collection

My collection for the SamBucky AU Week 2022, My SamBucky AU Week 2022 Collection

My collection of Drabbles and Ficlets for Samtember 2022

My collection of WinterFalcon Bingo Round Two 2022-2023 Bingo Fills 

My collection of fills for SamBucky Halloween Bingo 2022

My collection of fills for the Sam Wilson Bingo Round 2

My collection of fills for the SamBucky Festive Bingo 2022

My collection of fills for TFATWS Anniversary 2023 Fics

My collection of All Caps Bingo Round One 2023 Fills

My collection of SamBucky Summer Bingo 2023 Fills

My collection of Samtember 2023 Fills

My collection of SamBucky Halloween Bingo 2023 Fills

My collection of SamBucky Gift Event 2023 Fics

My collection of SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 Fics

My collection of TFATWS Anniversary 2024 Fics

My collection of SamBucky Summer Bingo 2024

My SamBucky One-Shots!

My Other One-Shots!

9-1-1 Fics (Mostly BuckTommy):

Canon Divergent:

My BuckTommy Canon Compliant Fic Series, the  Denial-verse, which includes my 7.03-7.05 fic, caught in this denial (tell me the day, I’ll say no more), my post 7.05-7.06 fic, Muay Thai and Flying Lessons, my  7.07-7.10 fic, Burnt Lasagna and Slow Dances, and my in-between season hurt/comfort fic, The Fire is Inside the House

No Firefighting AUs:

My HenRen D.E.B.S. AU with a touch of BuckTommy, The Red Herring Date

My BuckTommy Modern Day Cowboy AU, Hill Country and Swamplands and Rodeos

My Anthologies:

My collection of fics for BuckTommy Week 2024, including my "What If Buck went to karaoke trivia?" fic, the boy is mine, my Incubus!Tommy fic, Your Recently Assigned Incubus, and my Buck 1.0/Just Came Out Tommy Canon Divergent fic, The First Evan

IWTV Fanfics:

Canon Divergent:

My IWTV Season 1, Episode 2 Loustat fic, I don't think you realize (but you are in my insides)

[smallraindrops-blog]

I Know A Place (just for you and me)

Part 5

WMFTD!Y/N X Hypnos

Word count: 7.3

Warnings: Fluff, heavy angst, implied sex, death, AUs out of the wazoo, no beta.

Notes: 

I was going to hold off on posting this but with how long it's been since I posted anything I made, I decided to push this one out a little earlier. Thanks everyone for their patience and I hope y'all enjoy this!

also everyone go tell @jun-yng thanks for their big brain idea of ‘How to train your dragon’ AU, it wouldn’t exist without them. ( also look at their pretty art and pet the screen as you mutter like a feral person)

All parts can be found on the Masterlist

~

Fighting Evil by Moonlight (Magical girls au)

Hypnos wanted it to be noted in the records that she wanted nothing to do with any of this. 

Like she was going to hire a handsome lawyer who would nod with compassion as she told him everything and yell ‘objection!’. He would do it for her honor, then he would confess to falling madly in love with her the moment she stepped into his high rise office. 

She had been more happy to stay home with her clay mask and her softest pj on while she reread ‘The Surrender of Aphrodite’ for the millionth time. 

Unlike Zagreus who had seen the shiny dumb egg fall out of the night skies and went chasing after it. 

”Duck!” Zagreus yelled to the team, her dark hair fanned behind her as she twisted out of the way of the queen monster’ glimmering beam, causing her black skirt to lift up.

Hypnos landed on the damp, cold ground of the park, cursing as the disgusting mud touched her bare thighs. Her - stupid, too short, too ruffled - ruby red skirt hid nothing as she rolled to get out of the way of another beam.

Once this dumb thing was sent back to the underworld or wherever they went to, Hypnos was going to treat herself to a double cheeseburger with some fries and a good crying session in a very hot shower.

“We need to kill these things and fast!” Melinoë called out. Her swift form was a blur of orange as she swung her weapon, taking one of the freaky and smaller monsters out.  

“Like you don’t say? I thought we were going to invite them over a sleepover!” Hypnos snapped between chatting teeth. 

Hypnos took the chance to get back on her two feet, wobbly on the high heels and flipping her long curls over her shoulder. In a desperate attempt to summon her own weapon, she waved a hand in front of her chest.

Her impractical red flower brooch began glowing from its place in the middle of her giant bow but no weapons formed. Again.

Instead she coaxed her own magic forward, pale and misty. So unlike the vibrant colors of the other princesses, Hypnos thought sourly. 

A moment later, red flowers bloomed from the mist in her palm.

While everyone else got cool weapons and flashy attacks, Hypnos just had these dumb red flowers. However if she tossed enough in her foe’s face, they went down for a nap time. 

That little fact she discovered the first time in pure panic when Zagreus found that egg and a slime monster tried to eat them. 

One of the monsters rushed toward her, the eyes in the skull glowing an ugly yellow, its mouth a gaping black maw and Hypnos readied the flowers in a tight fist. 

Only to realize in horror that two more were charging from both sides.

Hypnos froze, her breath caught in her chest as she tried to work out what to do. She wasn’t a fighter- she wanted to go home- they had only been magical girls for two weeks-

Just as the monsters were about to jump her, their fangs sharp in the moonlight, Hypnos felt something heavy wrapped around her waist, yanking her up against a solid form as they leaped away from the oncoming monsters.

The monsters slammed into each other, so hard that they vanished. 

Hypnos blinked, dizzy as she realized that she was unharmed, her hands grabbing at the heavy arm around her waist. Then she saw the fluttering cloak in the breeze, matching the scarlet of her ridiculous outfit, and the golden shine of armor. 

A gleaming spear moved in front of her, another barrier of protection.

”Protect the princesses!” Her knight in shining armor roared to the other arriving knights, each one swiftfully taking out the monster far more faster than any of the princesses did.

Zagreus and Meilnoe weren’t going to be happy about the Knights coming to the rescue once again but Hypnos couldn’t find it in herself to be that upset. She slumped against the knight with a heavy sigh. 

She parted her lips to thank her knight.

Only to get dragged away and shoved into a bush. She winced in pain at the sharp jabs of the leaves.

”Hey- what is the-” Hypnos went quiet as the gloved finger pointed at her. The knight’s face was hidden by the golden helmet and shadows. But Hypnos still felt the intensity of their eyes on her.

“Stay here. I will fetch you when it is safe.” The knight growled then turned away, still muttering. “I swear you all are a butch of boneheads. Pains in my ass, all of you!” 

“Am not!” Hypnos called back, suddenly wishing that the knight didn’t save her just so they would have felt guilty when Hypnos got hurt. She huffed as she watched the knight neatly killed off the monsters.

Zagreus was yelling at one of them, silver armor with a black cloak. Melinoe was just trying to help finish off the last few with her knights in silver and orange. 

Hypnos’ knight - not that she liked calling them that but it seemed the magic wanted them all to be color coded for whatever reason- looked far too dashing in their golden armor and red cloak as they ruthlessly killed the queen monster in a single hit. 

Like a knight from a storybook that Hypnos would daydream over. 

Deciding for herself that it was more than safe, Hypnos stood with a huff and went to join her fellow princesses. 

~

It was after five minutes or so of listening to Zagreus arguing with the knights that Hypnos decided she was far too cold and hungry to stay out much longer.

Besides, it was a school night anyway. And she was done wearing these heels.

”I’m leaving.” Hypnos informed the group in a loud yawn. Not that anyone was paying attention to her anyway.

Hypnos turned on her heels and began the long walk back home. Hopefully her brothers or mom won’t notice Hypnos sneaking through her bedroom’s window, she will just act like she was asleep the whole time when they finally do see her.

A moment later, she sensed rather than hear the knight join behind her, a watchful guard - or a babysitter if she was being honest. 

“I will be fine. Shoo, go polish your armor or kill a dragon or whatever it is that knights do.” Hypnos waved a dismissive hand over her shoulders. 

“What knights do is watch over their foolish princess, especially when she tries to walk home alone in the dark.” Her knight shot back. Hypnos felt her cheeks flushed at the implication of the words but only scoffed.

She lifted her arm up, scowling at her flower brooch, and with a tap on it, her school uniform was restored in a gentle light as the brooch changed back to a dainty bracelet with a single charm of a red flower dangling from it.

Thankfully - or unfortunately depending- it returned her school bag as well, but her knight picked it up before Hypnos could, swinging it onto their shoulder. Hypnos gave them a cool glare before she began her walk again.

If her knight wanted to carry her stuff, so be it. Less work for Hypnos.

While the long sleeves of her button up and longer skirt helped a little, it wasn’t as much as she hoped. Shivering, Hypnos crossed her arms. She really needed to remember to get her beloved coat from school tomorrow.

“I swear you guys don’t know how to take care of yourself at all.” Her knight grumbled. Before she could snap back, a heavy, warm weight enveloped her form. 

The cloak. 

If Hypnos was like Zagreus, so desperate to prove herself, Hypnos might have protested but she wasn’t. Hypnos sighed deeply in relief, wrapping it around tightly and buried her face in it to get warm. There was a faint scent to it, almost like a campfire maybe. 

Whenever it was, it smelled good.

For a long moment, they walked side by side in silence. Even with the armor, the knight moved with a quiet, easy grace that Hypnos was envious of. 

“Thank you.” Hypnos said finally, peeking up from her lashes. Gosh, but the knight might be one of the tallest people she ever met. Beside Asterius.

If the voice was deeper, more masculine, it could be Asterius… Hypnos felt her heart flutter with hope.

“Just be more careful next time.” Her knight grumbled. Their voice was low, more like warm silk but most certainly not Asterius.

Hypnos nodded, her hopes dashed but she was surprised to find that she wasn’t that upset. Asterius and his ‘friend’ had something going on even if Hypnos was the only one to notice. “I'm just not made for fighting. I don’t even get a weapon.” 

“You are the reincarnation of a sleep deity or something right? Why would you be near a battlefield anyway?” The knight asked. From the way their tone sounded, it seemed like that question had been on their mind for a while.

Hypnos shrugged, her tone dry. “Seems wrong to get some type of power and not help out my fellow princesses. Zagreus also wouldn’t leave me alone. And I don't want to upset whatever god tossed that egg our way.”

Another silence fell between them. The trees rustled, losing more of the bold leaves. 

“You know what?” Hypnos said suddenly. “I wouldn’t mind all this- the fighting, the late nights -that uniform- you saw how short that skirt is right? Especially with those heels. Anyone could see my panties.”

At that the knight made a strangled noise, like they were in great deal of pain but Hypnos decided it must be their version of laughing in agreement. 

Hypnos sighed, waving her hand around, scowling at the sparkling charm. “I wouldn’t mind if I was actually useful. All I can do is create those dumb red flowers- ow!“

She stopped, hissing at the sharp pain in her scalp. She twisted her head, staring at the charm that was caught in her curls.  Hypnos heard the knight muttering something under their breath, stepping far too close. 

A gloved hand caught her chin, their thumb pressed against her sudden flushed cheek. The leather was cool against her skin but it didn’t help to cool her skin. Hypnos’ heart raced, like a bird caught in her chest as the knight leaned in. 

With gentleness Hypnos didn’t expect, the knight began to untangle the charm out of her curls. 

“Stupid flower.” Hypnos said, desperately trying to look anywhere else. Her other hand tightened on the cloak.

”Poppy.” The knight said abruptly. Hypnos frowned up at them with a quick glance, her eyes on them once again. Even this close, their face was hidden away.

”Those flowers? They are called poppies.” Her knight chuckled, they sounded too amused for their own good. 

“Oh. Wowie, didn’t know that.” Hypnos whispered, once again unable to look at the knight. She sounded like a fool and she wanted the ground to open up to swallow her.

That little laugh had sent a pool of warmth to her chest and Hypnos was torn between running away, her hair be damned or leaning in closer. 

Hypnos wanted to say something else, something clever or seductive like Lady Aphrodite would come up with but her tongue felt heavy as she caught a whiff of that spicy scent again.

“They are supposed to help with pain and with rest.” Her knight spoke up, their voice low. “That's why the chaos egg gave you these gifts. Poppies belong to you, princess, just as sweet dreams and gentle sleep all belong to you.”

Hypnos felt the moment that her charm was freed, the knight’s warm hand curled around her wrist. With a shaky breath, Hypnos looked up, wishing desperately that she could see their eyes.

The knight shifted closer, there was barely any space left between them. Hypnos licked her lips nervously, her heart racing. Like a flash, Hypnos wanted to stand on her toes and kiss this stranger.

Then they jerked, as if realizing how close they and Hypnos were. Her knight immediately stepped away, dropping their hands away.

Hypnos swayed, thrown off balance by the abrupt change. She had been sure they were about to say something else. Her knight shifted the bag on their broad shoulder, already walking away. 

“Come on, princess. It is getting late.” They snapped. 

Hypnos gasped in outrage. She almost didn’t follow them but then remembered they had her bag. 

Fuming with a childish anger, She stuck her tongue out behind their back.

”Put that back in your mouth.” They called out, not even turning around to look at her.

Hypnos sighed loudly and had to run to get caught up.  Nothing was more said between them. Hypnos kept glancing over them but unable to find the right words.

“We are getting near the park’s entrance.” Her knight informed her and Hypnos blinked in surprise. She didn’t realize how close they were, too lost in her thoughts.

“Oh.” Hypnos said. They were still hidden by the evergreen shrubs but it would be easy for someone to spot them once inside the park.

Hypnos gave her Knight a side glance. “You should probably change back. People will notice someone walking around in shiny, gold metal. The movie set thing won’t work, trust me.” 

She couldn’t hide the hopeful tone of her words. Hypnos wanted to know the face behind that helmet. She wanted to know the person that damn egg had paired her with.

”Nope. Sorry, princess.” Her knight said, not sounding all that sorry. Hypnos resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a toddler.

The knight handed over her school bag and she huffed as she looked back at the city. “Stay in the lights, I will protect you until you get home safe.”

Hypnos frowned, turning back to glare at the knight but the space next to her was empty.

“W-what-“. Hypnos turned in a circle, trying to find her companion in the shadows of the park. “Oh come on!”

Hypnos tightened the red cloak around her like a blanket. She stomped her foot. “This is so unfair. I am keeping your cloak!”

~

(The next morning)

At the sound of a motorcycle, Hypnos lifted her head up to scowl at her new guest. Next to her in a sleek sport bike, you peered at her through the visor as you stopped the vehicle in the bike lane.

Thankfully this street was empty with no traffic, making it easy to hear.

You were dressed in your uniform of jeans and your worn leather jacket open carelessly to reveal a black shirt with your parents’ gym logo in the middle.

She felt her cheeks flushed, those familiar butterflies returning to her stomach. She pointly didn’t look at your chest. Or shoulders. 

It was so unfair how much cooler you were. All of Hypnos’ life, you were always this untouchable cool girl that everyone wanted but couldn’t have. 

It didn't do anything to kill her crush on you however, if anything it just made it worse.

“Get on.” You ordered, with a nod toward the backseat. “Did you sleep in again?”

“I was up late last night, you know, saving the world and all that.” Hypnos replied cheerfully. She could be lackadaisical as she wanted, she knew you wouldn’t believe her.

You rolled your eyes like Hypnos knew you would. “You are so spoiled. I have your stupid helmet in my side bag.” 

With a half-hearted glare,Hypnos moved quickly as she could, pulling out her cherry red kitty ears helmet. She loved it so much. 

With a practiced grace, she got on the bike as she placed her helmet on.

it would mess up her hair but as long as she didn’t get in trouble for being late for school again, she didn’t care.

She wrapped her arms around your solid waist just before you took off. Hypnos tucked herself in close with a sigh as you expertly weaved around the traffic. 

You should have been in school with her but you had studied harder than most students and graduated a solid year before anyone else to help with your family business. 

You were probably the reason your parents' business hasn't gone under especially with the rumored health problems of Patroclus. 

Hypnos gave you a squeeze, hoping you knew what she was trying to say. 

And oddly enough, afterwards the faint spicy smell of campfire lingered around her for the rest of the day.

She was going to ask you where you got that cologne, it should definitely be a clue on which guy from school was her knight.

~~~~~~

Speak. (Podcaster Au)

It was around three in the morning when you gave up the ghost. 

Sleep didn’t come again.

Your body felt too anxious, sure that enemies lurked in the shadows, ready to bury a blade in your neck. You rolled out the bed and began to pace in your room. You lived alone, so you wouldn’t be bothering anyone else with your craziness thankfully.

or PTSD as the therapist called it, throwing more alphabets at you along with bright orange pills bottles. Colorful pills that did nothing for you and you glared at the medicine on your nightstand.

It was unfair because you knew this stuff had to help others but it had been months, hell years since you got a good night's rest. Even nightmares would be better than insomnia at this point.

You just wanted to be able to close your eyes and sleep.

~

It was the desperation of seeing another sunrise with dry eyes that burned that sent you looking at podcasts, Zagreus never shut up about them. He always seemed to have one on, and constantly sent you links that you never opened.

Maybe there would be one that would bore you to sleep.

You carefully avoid the ones about current events, you were not in the right headspace for that shit right right now. Definitely not the true crimes one. You scoffed at the alpha males podcasts and rolled your eyes at the historical wars ones. 

No one knew what it was like until it was them in on the muddy fields, listening to everyone dying-

You shook your head sharply, slamming it against the headboard. You didn't wince at the sharp jolt of pain that shot your mind like lightning. You welcomed it. You resisted the urge to repeat it.

You closed your eyes as you forced yourself to do the breathing exercises. 

In.

Hold. 

Out. 

Breath. 

Half an hour later, you resumed your hunting, this time on the much softer couch. Beams of sunlight peered in, dust molts in the amber light. You debated trying to eat something but the thought of even trying made you nauseous. 

It was only by luck when you saw it. You remembered that Zagreus had mentioned it, the name unusual enough to stick in the dimness of your mind. It didn’t seem very popular.

You read the title again.

‘Shut up, Hypnos: A rambling podcast.’

Frowning, you skimmed over the playlist. It seemed this guy picked the most random topic imaginable and then spent anywhere from three to- you blinked and squinted, bringing your phone closer- sixteen hours just talking.

Shut up indeed, you thought with an exhausted chuckle. 

Deciding the seven hours episode on the history of the card game ‘Uno’ was a safe one, you began it as you stared up at the ceiling. There was the first minute of ads, a woman talking about building websites in a near orgasmic tone. 

Then.

”Helllloooo, welcome to my closet and to my podcast. If you don’t know me, my name is Hypnos - yes, I know the name is weird, tell that to my mom- and this is ‘Shut up, Hypnos.’ Where I will talk to you until you either toss your phone into a river with pure disgust at humanity or fall asleep from sheer boredom! Whichever comes first.” 

You blinked, of all the voices you expected, it wasn’t that one. It was airy, not bad but something that told you the man might be pitching it up higher than natural. 

But still, not bad.

”Uno. Dos- tres- No, only Uno please.” Hypnos laughed at his own joke. It was a nice laugh. Your eyes traced the sunbeams on your ceiling.

“That game was the bane of my existence from the moment I gained consciousness and the dexterity required to hold the cards. I don’t think I won a single game and I always ended up with half of the deck in my hands.” Hypnos rambled on. 

You never ever saw this man, not a single clue of what he looked like but you could picture it, a child scowling at the cards. 

“A family ‘game night’ brought up the memories of my horrible childhood and I decided to look up who created this game solely to torture me and me alone. So, my listener, if you haven’t driven us off a cliff yet, let me take you to a magical place called ‘Ohio’ in the year of 1971…”

The last thing you remembered was Hypnos’ outraged at the man who mortgaged his house for a mere eight thousands dollars - ‘shush, listener, I know it was the seventies and it worked out for them but still!’- and the way the golden light seemed to dip like honey.

Hypnos began speaking off topic something related to the game but his voice was faraway now, a quiet murmuring that flowed like the river lethe.

You didn’t remember closing your eyes.

~

When you woke up, you had dried drool on your chin with no idea what time or day it was. It was dim inside and it felt like you had been sleeping forever. Your mind was sluggish and it actually took you a moment to sit up. 

Your phone was on the ground, Hypnos’ cheerful voice still going. You rubbed at your face as you tried to wake up. 

He was no longer talking about ‘Uno’. You weren’t sure what it was about but when Hypnos had said something about genitalia and heroin in the same sentence, you finally picked your phone up.

The episode was named ‘The Ballad of Sexual Dependency by Nan Goldin: post Stonewall art’ 

Then you saw the time. 

You had slept for a solid fifteen hours straight. 

Your phone was clinging to life with six percent left and you needed to pee and you felt your stomach growl, hunger sharp in you for the first time in months. You still felt lost in the fabric of time and space, your head heavy with sleep.

Hypnos was still talking, ranting about an art project that a teacher failed him on because it wasn’t showing Hypnos’ truest intentions.

“What does that mean? What the fuck-“ Hypnos ranted, his anger so genuine that you smiled. “Why spend hours telling me art is subjective then go tell me that-“

You never felt better.

~

A week or so later, Hypnos was spinned around in his wheely chair, sipping on his ice coffee, trying to decide if he wanted to rant about the elephant and their pinnae. He eyed his computer with about twenty tabs he had pulled on elephant ears as he kept spinning.

Monie was staring at him, or rather at the iced coffee in his hand. Her little white Pom tail swayed with hope.

“You can’t have this.” Hypnos informed his dog for the millionth time, still spinning even as the world was getting blurry. “You will die.” 

Monie only made her black eyes bigger and wetter and so much sadder because Hypnos loved her enough to make sure she didn’t kill herself with caffeine.

“I know Monie, no one’s life is harder than yours, you silly dog.”

He heard a ping, meaning his Patreon just got something. Hypnos stopped himself, dizzy as he tried to see what he got. He usually got a dollar or two here and there. So he could definitely get more coffee. 

Maybe even enough for some Taco Bell. He was a big dreamer afterall. He laughed to himself as he looked.

His face went numb, his coffee spilled over his lap as he stared open mouthed at the screen.

He was reading it wrong.

Right? Right.

He automatically picked Monie up so she couldn’t lick at the spilled coffee.

Oh gods.

Rubbing his eyes hard as he could with one hand, he leaned forward, Monie still held aloft as he stared like a fool.

A fat, whole ten grand. It had to be a mistake. He was sure of that.

Then Hypnos saw the message, no real name, just random numbers and letters. 

Just a simple ‘Thank you, Hypnos.’

~~~~~~

Fly high (HTTYD Au, Icelos' pov )

The day they lost Dad, all Icelos remembered was fire. Fire and screams in the dead of the night, the black smoke of dragon fire hid even the stars. Her father’s scream of anguish was louder than even the mightiest dragon roar.

She remembered crying, her twin’s face was a mirror of her own pain.

It was the day they lost their Father too, a proud man who left as a hollowed out ancient tree after a great fire, one that still stood, blackened and ruined.

~

The few scraps of information that Icelos got about her Dad came from others, an off hand comment here or there from Achilles or a neighbor. They had uncles and aunts from their Dad’s side but they never visited anymore.

Icelos wondered often if they blame her father for what happened. 

Sometimes she wanted to write to them, her neat penmanship messy from her anger, to let them know, their stones of guilt were mere pebbles to the world that her Father carried.

She never did.

Instead she hoarded the few bit of her dad that she could.

’Your Dad had the worst sweet tooth I have ever seen, especially with honeyed goods.’ That had come from the baker, after waving a wooden spoon at Morpheus for taking a third helping of hard honey.

‘I still expect to see him napping on the porch.’ Achilles had remarked to Patroclus once, not realizing that Icelos was still in earshot.

And when she was younger, she found books tucked away in a box, many with notes inside an unfamiliar handwriting. It had been the mentions of her Father’s name along with ‘my husband’ that she realized it must be her Dad who wrote these.

She devoured every last one, reading the off hand comments and the bad jokes - so many that it reminded her of Morpheus- to some akin to worship. Icelos thought maybe if she listened hard enough, she would hear him like a lost god murmuring her ears.

Father rarely spoke of Hypnos, although sometimes Icelos caught how Father would watch them sometimes, like he saw someone else. His harsh demeanor softened for a moment.

Icelos wanted to ask him, what did he see? 

Was Dad there in the curve of Morpheus’ cheesy grin, or the way her twin brother would find a perfect patch of afternoon sun to nap in like a cat? 

Was it Photobtor and his eyes, perfect honey gold even in the dark of the night?

She had wanted to ask, perhaps more than anything, did she have anything from Hypnos that none of the others had? Something that was purely theirs. Hypnos and Icelos.

Father always turned away before Icelos found her courage, his broad shoulders just slumped ever so slightly.

Unwillingly, their dad had become a shade in their lives, or something so mystical that it would ruin the house if spoken aloud. Or maybe it would just burn away at the last remaining bit of their father, causing him to fall like an old tree, wood too rotten even for warmth in the cold, lonely night.

~

Icelos was so startled by how warm the dark scales of her night fury felt underneath her palm that her breath hitched. The dragon closed its eyes, completely trusting Icelos.

She let out a breathless laugh. Tears burning in her eyes.  

If her Father could see her now…

She looked down at the trusting beast, its hot breath gentle on her skin. 

He could never know.

~

So of course, Father found out a week later.

But there wasn't time, she had to save her best friend, her father and her grandparents, to show her brothers, everyone what it meant to really fly.

What she remembered wasn’t the flames reaching up for her. It was the determination in her night fury’s eyes. 

Sometimes Icelos wondered if she actually heard her Father’s voice, screaming out her name.

~

After everything, years later with dragons flying in the cold skies of winter, it was Icelos that Father brought to the clan meetings. 

She stayed quiet, standing by his elbow as he dealt with clan matters of hunting, food storage, supplies for homes and the construction of new pathways. There were disputes to settle between the clan members- land rights, cattle and so on- and there were so many countless little things that she never thought about before. 

Her Night Fury had fallen asleep about five minutes in and Icelos never felt such envy before.

When the last of the villagers left, her Father sighed heavily.  “I don’t suppose your dragon won’t mind adding to the fireplace for us?”

“What?” Icelos yelped, waking up her dragon who huffed at her. “But what else is there to do?”

Father smiled grimly as he nodded toward the books on the table. “We shall start with the fun stuff first. We have to go through the incident reports- your dragons are a little too enthusiastic about helping then we have the petitions, expense reports, contracts, reports or requests for help from other clans, livestocks records and so on.”

Icelos moaned in pain as she fell backward into a chair, rubbing her face. Her dragon grumbled at her, sending a burst of flames toward the fireplace. 

“My thanks.” Her father told the dragon, taking a large piece of dried jerky from the table and tossed it. Her nightfury snapped it up greedily, purring in pleasure.

”Father, must we?” Icelos glanced over the piles of books. Was this why she didn’t see her Father until late in the evening? Her knee ached, the false leg cold against her skin. 

She used to like winter but as the weather got deeper and she got older, she found herself not enjoying it as much as she did in her youth.

Icelos shifted and somehow her dearest friend knew, pressing its warm body against her leg, resting their heavy head on her lap. She gave them a pat on their head.

Father approached her, his brow furrowed. “Is your leg bothering you?”

”Yeah but I want to stay.” Icelos said firmly, straightened her back as she met her Father’s hard stare. She kept her head high, not glancing away like someone else might have from her father. 

She may be older now but a single glance from those eyes could still make her feel little like a girl with her hand in the cookie jar.

For a long moment, Icelos thought he would order her to go home but he just nodded, pulling out a leather flask from his cloak. When he poured her a small drink of ale, she nearly went bug-eyed. Father was a hard ass about his kids drinking hard liquor.

”Just this once.” He told her with a wry glance. She thought she almost saw a rare smile. “For the leg. Don’t tell your brothers.” 

Icelos nodded, suddenly feeling very grown up with her drink and paperwork.

After a deep drink for himself, Father brought the books closer to her along with papers and quills. She didn’t have to do any of the paperwork yet but he went over each piece of information carefully, telling her the context and exactly why it mattered. 

It was late in the night when they were done. Icelos slumped in her chair and she watched with heavy eyes as Father placed the paperwork away. 

“Do you know why I chose you?” Father said abruptly, causing Icelos to wake up a little. After a moment, she gave him a goofy smile.

”My neat handwriting?” She guessed, not sure where he was going with that. He huffed, an almost laugh.

”No.” he told her, returning to stand next to her. He placed a large, warm hand on her shoulder. His expression shifted, unreadable in the firelight. “You remind me so much of your dad.”

Icelos blinked, her lips parting but no sounds came out. How long had it been since she last heard Father speak of Hypnos, the shade that haunted their lives? The one that Father still seemed to look for sometimes. 

Father was no longer looking at her, staring into the fire. “Your dad wasn’t suited for leadership but he knew how to… keep me grounded, to make sure I didn’t lead with an ax in my hand and damnation in the other.”

Icelos only nodded, too stunned to speak. She gave her confused dragon a pet on the head, the smooth scales comforting her. 

“You have the best of him. He knew how to stay cheerful even in the darkest times, he was gentle even if he couldn’t help but make smart comments, especially to me.” Father continued, his voice was so quiet, so hopelessly fond. 

Years and years later, he still sounded like he was in love. “Just like you.”

”Oh.” Icelos swallowed, tears forming unwillingly. She didn’t want to cry because if she did, Father might stop.

”You could be a great leader for our clan, Icelos. You have his gentle heart but my iron hand. The fact you already unified our clan and the dragons is only the tip of the iceberg of far you could go.” Father turned back to her, his eyes watchful.

And maybe she was imagining it in her sleep deprivation but- he looked proud. Of her.

She nodded, trying to appear like a leader. She wanted that desperately, to fit in the role her father gave her. “I want to be great. For you and dad.” 

“You already are.” He said, squeezing her shoulder gently.

~

Icelos thought she was going mad. 

Her body was shaking, her breathing kept hitching sharply. Her Night Fury let Icelos braced herself against them, their eyes locked on the pair before her.

A Light Fury was glaring at them, their teeth bared but the man next to the dragon didn’t move, didn’t breath.

How often had Icelos seen those white curls, those golden eyes reflected back in the mirror?

Faintly she heard a noise. Soft and broken. 

Then she realized it came from her twin. Morpheus was shocked into silence, his harsh breathing the only thing hint to his anger, to his pain while Phobetor watched with an hesitant expression. 

“Oh my little starlights.” Hypnos said quietly. the once shade, the ghost that haunted their home, that broke her father beyond repair, smiled warmly. 

His sunlit eyes were bright with tears. “It really is you. All of you.”

Just like that, Icelos and everything she thought she knew fell apart.

~

In the chaos of everything, Icelos had tried to plan for how Dad and Father were going to be reunited after she fixed the issues with the alpha dragon and the bastard keeping other dragons locked up. 

Only for Father to come looking for his lost ducklings. His stormcutter, an old king like her father, has swept in the hiding place with a liquid grace. 

There was no chance to warn him.

Icelos waited for the rage, for the hurt to spill forward like the flames of a Monstrous Nightmare. 

It was clear that Hypnos was doing the same, his shoulders tight, arms crossed over his chest. Father was staring at Hypnos like he couldn't believe he was really there, like he was seeing a ghost. 

Her father was rarely surprised, the only other time she had seen this was when he had caught her riding her beloved dragon. Then he flew in a rage unlike anything she had ever seen.

For painfully long moments, the silence grew. The heaviness of it barring down on her shoulders. 

“I would welcome you to my humble domicile but you didn't even knock.” Hypnos quipped, his voice was airy but Icelos heard the tension in it, a bird’s racing heartbeat. “Just like our wedding night. No manners whatsoever.”

Icelos knew she looked bugged eyed just like her brothers, no one had ever spoken to their father like that. Not even their most ferocious enemies.

Father stepped closer, his eyes locked onto Hypnos. Hypnos swallowed, but didn't look at him, eyes on Father's chest. 

Slowly as if Hypnos was more mist than flesh, Father touched his chin and lifted his head up, studying every line and curve of his husband's face.

Father looked raw, like something made new. His expression tender as a heartbreaking smile broke across his face, his eyes shining. He was about to cry, Icelos realized.

“You're as beautiful as the day I lost you.” His voice was low, rough and so in love. Hypnos gasped, his face crumbling with tears.

They embraced, clinging together so tightly not even the gods could part them now. 

Hypnos was sobbing, his words spilling out of him in a rush. Father was shushing him, his own mighty form shaking as he cupped the back of Hypnos’ head.

At that point, Phan touched her shoulder, jerking his head toward a different, far away area. Icelos nodded, realizing that the other two had already left, giving their parents some privacy.

Later, Icelos dangled her feet off the edge, smiling as her night fury chased the light fury. She had a suspicion her dragon was madly in love but she won't tease them just yet. 

Morpheus had taken off, needing to lick his own wounds, still hurt and angry at their dad. Her twin was speaking to Phobetor of what happened that night. 

He had been far too young the night it happened. 

And Icelos… 

She watched from high above,a stolen moment in the gentle lights, the soft greenery of the cave as her parents swayed together. 

Their voices were too low, too far away but they looked happy, even with tears marks on their cheeks. 

Maybe it was too soon, everything still too raw by the scraping of lost years on their souls but somehow she knew this would be for the better.

~~~~~~

Decisions (Reincarnation au)

Hypnos woke up alone, his cheeks stained with tears. He sniffed, rubbing his face as he sat up. His wings fluttered against his hands. The blanket was spilling off of him and onto the floor.

It was already fading, whatever it was that brought him to tears although the familiar grief lingered in his chest.

Waking up like this was something that just happened sometimes. Hypnos wondered if he would ever get used to it. If he even should get used to it.

”You’re crying.” His captain’s voice was low, gravelly as the bed dipped under your weight. 

“Was. Now I am at the gross snotty phase.” Hypnos corrected, shifting as you pulled him into your arms. Hypnos sighed, tucking his head under your chin. Humans were so much warmer than his species, their bodies hot as a pure summer day.

His wings flared out and lifted up, the tips kissing your cheeks as a greeting. You turned your head, nuzzling against one, and Hypnos couldn’t hide his smile. He loved that his captain tried to mimic his species’ sign of affection with his own human ones.

Your hand rubbed up and down his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hypnos hummed low in his chest, thinking about it. 

It was no secret that you had oftentimes disliked the other versions of you. Your born calloused, possessive and beastly nature against the civilized knight of your mind were often at war with each other. 

Sometimes the knight won, other times it was the beast. Sometimes they coexisted. 

Hypnos didn’t have the heart to tell you that you still carried such behaviors even now. 

Your large hand spread over Hypnos’ lower back when someone else looked a little too long, the way you would dipped your head to listen to him, the adoring nips on his vulnerable neck as you worshiped him like an pagan and their god. 

Beast and man, always at war with each other.

“I don’t agree with some of the choices I- the other me made. I understand but I don’t agree. I think.” Hypnos sighed. He wiggled in your lap until he could look at you. “How do you deal with it?”

“I call them -or myself- a worthless bastard and try to move on. Can’t change it now.” You said, trying to lighten the mood like Hypnos often did.

Hypnos nodded slowly, then decided he didn’t want to think about it. He silded his wings behind your head, pulling you down for a greedy kiss. Your hands squeezed his waist, pulling his slender body flushed against yours.

Later, tangled together like vines and dozing, Hypnos mused on cycles, death and birth, the ebbs and flows of time until his eyes grew heavy and he returned to the realms of dreams.

~~~~~~

Dappled lights (a quiet world au)

In one life, there was a butterfly with gleaming red wings, fluttering slowly on top of a single daisy as it ate. 

It was unaware of the other butterfly watching them, admiring the shine and artwork that was their existence in the golden lights.

They will only have two weeks together, a mere blink in the eyes of gods but for them it was forever and a day.

In this life, one was a wolf, born with a deadly grace and teeth that gleamed. The other was a lost half breed, their fur soft as snow. They ran together under the moon, eyes shining and tongue lolling, they were light and darkness side by side.

When one had to leave, the other followed, curled around their mate in their small den. 

Another, so short was the lives of mayflies, only here for a moment but they fell together.

in this one, they were oak saplings, growing together side by side. Their branches grew out as they got taller. One stopped, unable to grow anymore but the other, healthy and strong, grew the branches downward until they met, tangled together forevermore.

Just one more ( it is always just more life together, just more one moment then they would be satisfied. They never are) 

But just one more, a sheep and its guard dog, bloodied to save their beloved companion. 

But just one more, two sparrows and their wings lifted by the winds, the sun shining down on them.

Just one more, one was fire and the other was fuel.

One more, an impossible, empty sea and a life giving river met, a line marking where they kissed.

One. it was the sun, warm and golden and the other was the cool, dark earth. Life bloomed wherever the sun caress them.

More. They were void and the other was everything.

Again?

Time was a flat circle, reality was infinite and they spun and spun around, laughing as they kissed.

Again.

[bloomeng]

Shout out to the person who noticed Steph was the only one in heels and said Dick would totally wear heels. You didn’t know it but you were ahead of your time (it was always my plan to put discowing in heels).

Steph originally wasn’t going to get heels but then I got the idea to add the wings and I fell in love but I think the in universe reason is she wanted them for the drama and she was extrapolating design elements from Batgirl’s og outfit and Batwoman. I was going for like a gothic princess sort of vibe which turned out a bit more Fischl from gi than I intended, but I think that actually suits the vibe pretty well.

Another shoe detail: Jason’s shoes are meant to be slight platforms to match his desire to be tall and imposing.

This is a side tangent but I want to talk about it. For this au I’ve been trying to strike a balance between feminine and “would this character actually wear this?” Now the answer is mostly no. The outfits by nature are impractical as hell bc that’s how magical girl media is, so the question I’ve been asking is more “would this character feel comfortable in this outfit?” I want each look to be equally feminine which means I’m hyper conscious of not making the women more feminine than the men. Magical girl designs are hyper fem by default so my goal is to basically make everyone relatively the same amount of fem.

However, I’m also trying to take into account personality. This is where I might lose some people but hell it’s my au. So why are Jason and Cass the only ones so far with real skirts? This is totally my headcanon but I think they’re the only ones who would benefit from skirts:

Dick would be fine with wearing a skirt but I think he’s ultimately neutral about it. He would totally do it though if someone asked and would be fully aware of how nice he looked.

I don’t know if I’d say Tim would like wearing skirts so much as he doesn’t care. He’s more concerned with practicality.

Steph doesn’t have any issues with skirts but I think as a part of her uniform she would feel stifled. As as I said previously I think part of her look is based on Bats she would’ve looked up to but also partly it was secret wish fulfillment for that little girl who would’ve loved to look like a kickass mary sue demon princess from a y/a novel.

Duke in my opinion wouldn’t see the appeal. I think he’d be similar to Dick but just a little more shy about wearing one. I gave him a little ruffle though bc I thought it was cute.

Babs is fine with skirts but tends to prefer pants.

Cass is a bit different because I think wearing something frivolous is so novel to her. I wanted her outfit to be a blend of her canon design and her appreciation for dance. I tried to contrast her more practical elements (like her pants and armor) with the soft things I think she would enjoy (like a flowy skirt.) I still have ambition to go back and design a Black Bat outfit for her but I haven’t quite figured out the direction I want to take with it.

Jason on the other hand— this also very much in hc territory— I think didn’t know how much he would enjoy a skirt until he got to wear one. Stepping away from the universe for a sec; Jason is the most masculine design fundamentally which means that in order to match the vibe I would have to make him the furthest from his canon design. I’m really not trying to make a statement or subvert things by putting men in skirts bc it’s supposed to a silly au with aesthetically pleasing designs. I like feminine things and it shows in my work however I don’t see clothing as naturally gendered. That’s my little context psa back to my point. I think Jason is the most likely to wear a skirt and actually feel empowered by it. At first I think he was embarrassed by it but the outfits choose you so he just went with it out of necessity. And through that he found he really thrived in the juxtaposition between his intentional imposing figure and this unashamed femininity. He’s a drama kid at heart and fr what’s more dramatic than an ill-advised fit that serves. The skirt to him feels like a costume that helps give him the confidence to be Red Hood or ig… Red Bow. (Which is sorta how I think of the red helmet in canon but I also do believe that Jason and Cass would have the most fun wearing a skirt.)

I haven’t decided if Bruce will get a skirt or not but if he does just know that my reasoning is that his artifact was humbling him. Like you take yourself too seriously calm down with the brooding. He would use the skirt as a way to conceal more weapons.

(I think Kon would love wearing skirts but in this au because he built his own outfit I think he was trying to seem impressive and edgy and distinguish himself from Clark. I also think, despite enjoying skirts, he would have to work up the courage to wear them in public and never as Superboy because he would be too conscious of his image.)

Anyway I don’t claim to always succeed with my intentions coming through in my work but this is what is running through my head.

[steddieficfind]

Actually looking for two fics, similar topic though. Both were on Ao3. The first was Witch Steve where he becomes Joyce's apprentice. I remember there's a part about a bracelet that Steve accidentally uses on Eddie. I think he also made a luck charm and Eddie got angry for the false confidence. The second one was Witch Eddie and was a Practical Magic au where Eddie curses himself to never fall in love unless it's the perfect guy. Max and Dustin were Steve's kids in it and Eddie made them charms.

Requests 1017 & 1018!

1017 is Impractical Magic by EddieSpaghetti, on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42408330

And 1018 is And I Knew (in the Crystalline Knowledge of You) by PippinPips, on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43381260

Send us an ask if either of these don’t sound right & Remember to comment, bookmark, and leave kudos!

[nicestgirlonline]

omgomg im very veryyy curious abt impractical magic!! mind sharing abt it a lil bit...?? wink wink

I’m also very very excited about Impractical Magic! It takes place in the Magic Shop AU I’m working on along with Demonology and I Put A Spell On You. In each story, a reader is drawn into the Scarlet Witch Magic Shop looking for white magic spells only to be lead down a dark path by agent of chaos Agatha. This segment will focus on a reader who is an un-awakened witch that visits the shop and Agatha takes an interest.

Of course Wanda also has her eyes on the new witch in town. She’s not too happy about Agatha causing chaos in her shop either. It becomes a wickedly, witchy love triangle.

I don’t have much written for this one yet 😫 hope this little snippet is juicy enough for you!

You blush when you see the next cabinet. Next to all the rose quartz and heart shaped gems, there was a whole section marked Sex Magik, with candles in the shape of penises, vulvas, naked torsos of men and women. There was incense burning sending out wafts of deep musk, which was spicier and darker than the patchouli smells filling the rest of the shop. Purple smoke curled itself around your vision. You waved it away, the strong aroma making you sneeze.

“Goddess bless you.” Agatha appeared while you cleared the smoke from your eyes. Her dark eyes glimmered and she gave you a wry smile. “It's strong right? One of my signatures.”

“Oh! So you make all of these?” You had no idea how she had gotten from the other end of the shop in front of you so fast.

“I make all of the good ones. So. Having some trouble in the bedroom? Boyfriend can’t get it up?” You could feel her eyes looking you up and down. Butterflies burst in your stomach.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” you murmured as she stepped closer to you.

“Lesbian bed death? I have options for that too.”