#in the words of The Velveteen Rabbit

[leos-regression-cove]

I think it says a lot about me as a person now that that the easiest way to make me cry as a child (and still now. I didn't think I'd tear up while writing this lmao) was to imply that the majesties and wonders of childhood and imagination are all a dream that inevitably leaves us as we get older that we can only regain in death and that the vivid inner worlds and personalities we give our toys in our early years either feel abandoned, vengeful, or die entirely as we age.

[devine-acension-831]

“You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

Margery Williams - The Velveteen Rabbit, 1923.

[paperbunny]

Going to somehow turn this into a poster for my classroom...

[litandlifequotes]

It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams Bianco

[badlydrawnbabydirk]

theory time because someone else sent one and I've been holding this between my teeth since I saw that one gif. from this post.

Dirk is a Heart player and Heart is about souls. Dirk is a baby and also has not played the game yet so obviously cannot really control is powers, but as evidenced by Hal in canon— and maybe/probably even Brobot, who he sent to Jake— he can clearly still USE them, even if it's not really a conscious thing.

so like. with robro here. he wasn't built to be a person, we all know that. most of us are probably quite glad that he is !! I sure am. but it wasn't in his design parameters. he was supposed to be a nannybot to keep Dirk alive until he could take care of himself, basically. but what I'm thinking here is that baby Dirk has everything to do with his sapience and having A!Dave's memories. to Dirk, this is his Bro. he's a baby and doesn't understand things like Being Alive yet.

but on some unconscious, soul deep level, the baby has poured his love for robro into making him Real. it's giving me extreme Velveteen Rabbit vibes and I'm dying.

most of my internal thoughts on this are just incoherent wailing so I hope I've presented this in a way that makes sense because Words Are Hard, to quote these youtubers I like named Evan and Katelyn. but like. I've been absolutely freaking out and losing it over this idea since that post dropped. you get it right like do you get it

I feel bad for robro, that he has to know that he's sort of a cosmic accident, or however else you want to look at it. but I'm also glad that he gets to love Dirk fully, and that little baby Dirk gets a real guardian after all. (and I am pointedly ignoring how hard I want to cry at that other asker's theory about an 8 year old Dirk's tragic lack of mechanical engineering skills. nope. no thank you <3)

// DING DING DING YOU FUCKING GOT ITTTTT

[sequinsmile-x]

Velveteen

A short tale about Aaron, Emily, their toddler, and a tiny stuffed rabbit.

AKA I just really needed to write some fluff.

-x-

Hi friends,

Work was rough this week, so I decided to write some very fluffy fluff based off a cute picture I saw on twitter of a man in a suit with a little bunny in his pocket, and a conversation with the lovely @astridncs <3

I really hope you like this, and that if you've had a bad week too I hope it makes you smile.

-x-

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: pregnancy. so fluffy I hope you have dental insurance

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Mama, up.” 

Emily smiles as she feels Evie tug at the material of her jeans, her tiny fingers digging into her thighs as she tries to get her attention. She looks down at her little girl and is, as she always was, taken in by her wide eyes. She runs her fingers through Evie’s dark hair, her unruly curls shifting against her skin, “Can you wait until we get off the elevator, sweet girl?”

Evie huffs out a breath as if she has the weight of the world on her two, almost three, year old shoulders. “But you’re holding the baby.” 

She chuckles, running her fingers through her hair again, “I’m not holding the baby Evie,” she says, her other hand on her bump, “The baby lives inside of me, remember? I’ll pick you up the second we get out, okay.” 

She struggled to pick Evie up at the best of times at the moment, her almost full term pregnancy and shifted centre of gravity making it tricky enough when she was on solid ground, let alone in a moving elevator. 

Evie nods and wraps both of her hands around Emily’s, squeezing her fingers tightly as she sighs, “Fine.” 

Emily has to press her lips together to stop herself from smiling, her daughter’s wilful, stubborn, attitude one of the many things she loved about her, even when it was aimed at her. Ever since she’d first been handed Evie, back when she was a tiny thing no bigger than Aaron’s hand, everyone had always told Emily she was just like her. At first, it was just about her looks. The undeniable Prentiss nose, the eyes that were the same depth of brown as hers, the dimples she and Aaron would playfully argue over - each saying they were from the other. As Evie grew and her personality grew with her, the comparisons only became more frequent. She was exactly like her. Emily couldn't, and didn’t want, to deny it. Every single trait her mother had complained about in her nothing short of beautiful in her own little girl, a type of love that had eventually turned inwards. A strange type of recognition that if she loved those things in Evie she should love them in herself. 

As promised, the moment they step off the elevator she picks Evie up, resting her on top of her bump as the little girl wraps her arms around her neck, “There you go, baby.” 

“I not baby,” Evie demands, giggling despite her cross expression, a stern look she’d picked up from Aaron, when she feels her little sister kick against her from below, “She baby.” 

Emily laughs as she presses a kiss against Evie’s temple, “You’ll always be my baby.” 

“Princess,” Derek calls out as Emily steps into the bullpen, his smile wide and excited as he walks over,” And Mini Princess,” he says as he addresses Evie, “What are you two doing here?” 

“We are meeting Daddy for lunch, aren’t we?” Emily says, poking Evie in the belly. The smile and nod she receives warms her heart just as much as it had the first time she’d seen it when she was just a couple of months old, the joy in it growing with her. 

“Maternity leave boring you already?”

It was the first working day since her maternity leave started and she was already itching to get out of the house, hence why Aaron had suggested she and Evie came to meet him for lunch.

Even though she’d left the BAU when she had Evie and was now in Counterterrorism the team had thrown a small party for her in the conference room. Penelope had baked a cake that they still had the leftovers of in their kitchen at home, and everyone had bought gifts for the baby even though they still had everything from when they had Evie. Despite her grumbling, which they all knew was put on, she loved that Jack, Evie and the little girl in her belly had so many people in their corners. That somehow she’d found a village that would always be there for her and her family. 

She raises her eyebrow at the question, “Maternity leave is a lot less relaxing when you have a toddler to chase after.” 

Derek smiles at her with mischief sparkling in his eyes, but he’s cut off when Aaron steps out onto the walkway, something they are alerted to when Evie tries to scramble out of Emily’s arms, her excited yell reverberating around the office. 

“Daddy!” 

Emily puts her down, smiling when her eyes meet her husband's as Evie runs towards him, determination and excitement in her movements as if it had been weeks since she’d last seen him, not just a matter of hours since he’d left the house that morning. 

“There’s my Evie girl,” Aaron says when he meets her at the bottom of the steps, hauling her up into his arms, his smile something that would have once been considered rare as he kisses her cheek before he settles her on his hip, “Are you excited for lunch?” 

Watching them together was something that Emily knew she could never get enough of. She loved watching Aaron be a dad. A type of contentment she hadn’t known existed would flood through her whenever she saw him press a Superman bandaid to a skinned knee, either Jack or Evies - the toddler always keen to be like her big brother - or whenever she overheard him reading a bedtime story. She’d always loved watching him with Jack, his gentle care for his son one of the many things she’d loved about him before she could admit she was in love with him, but there was something about watching him with Evie that would almost knock her off her feet sometimes. Something about the absurdity of such a tiny little girl having him wrapped around her little finger, able to convince him of anything with half formed sentences and a sparkle in her eyes Aaron always said was all her, made her ache. 

When they first found out the baby she was pregnant with was also a girl she’d worried he’d be disappointed, a fear that was born out of a comment her mother had made when she’d told her the news. 

“Poor Aaron - he and Jack will be outnumbered.”

Emily had held it in for a couple of days, her fears eventually all spilling out with tears she couldn’t control after he unknowingly, and good-naturedly, made a similar comment. He’d apologised repeatedly, his lips against her temple as he assured her that not one part of him was disappointed. His promise that if they had a half dozen girls he could be nothing close to disappointed or annoyed, desperate to have a world that had as much of her in it as possible. 

Aaron walks over and leans in to kiss her cheek, unashamed in his affection for her around their co-workers since she was, for all intents and purposes at the moment, simply his wife. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” she replies, smiling widely at him, her hand lifting to rest over his on Evie’s back on instinct, never wanting to be too far away from either of them. Her attention is drawn to the small pink fluffy bunny in the pocket of his suit pocket. It was Evie’s favourite toy, part of a set of small bunnies that Aaron had bought when Emily was still pregnant. Evie had pressed it into his pocket first thing that morning before he left, her tongue stuck out between her lips as she concentrated on her task. She’d told him he had to look after it and keep it in his pocket all day, and it looked like he’d kept his promise. “I see your little friend is still present and correct.” 

He hums, raising his eyebrow at her, his amusement clear behind his mask of fake annoyance, “He’s come to all my meetings with me today.” 

She has to hide a laugh with a cough, her enjoyment of the situation only made stronger by his straight face. She’d told him as she saw him out of the house that morning, Jack keeping Evie entertained in the living room as their parents exchanged goodbyes and kisses like they were secrets, that he could take the bunny out of his pocket. That he didn’t have to sit with it in there all day during meetings with Strauss and the Deputy Director, but he’d simply shaken his head at her, his expression serious when he said he’d keep it there. 

“I promised her, Em.”

It made her love him even more, the absolute sincerity he had as he walked out of their house with the pink bunny in his pocket, its arms hanging over the edge of it like a strange pocket square. 

“You should have seen Strauss’s face when she walked in here earlier,” Derek says, confirming for Emily what she already knew - that Aaron had kept his promise to Evie and sat in front of his bosses with the bunny on full display, “I think she thought he’d lost his mind.” 

Aaron sighs, “Morgan.” 

“What’s your little friend's name, Evie?” Derek asks, undeterred by Aaron’s attempt to be stern, his usually effective glare diminished by the little girl in his arms and the pink bunny in his pocket. 

Evie beams, her smile wide and entirely Emily’s as she traces the ears of the toy in question with tiny fingers, “Medatwon.” 

Derek frowns, his eyebrows pulled together as he looks at Emily, her lips pressed together as she suppresses a smile, “Medatwon?” 

Emily clears her throat, “Megatron,” she corrects, Evie’s inability to pronounce the name she’d insisted on for her favourite toy something that made it infinitely more adorable.

“Megatron?” Derek asks incredulously, “Like the Transformer?” 

“Jack obsessed with the Transformers and Evie is obsessed with Jack,” Emily says, an edge of challenge to her voice that they all know has more to do with her hormones than anything else, “You do the math.” 

“Okay Princess,” Derek says, his tone teasing as he throws up his hands in mock defence, “You can chill out, I was just asking.” 

She hums, only calmed down as Aaron wraps his arm around her, his smile tinged with amusement when she looks up at him. She clears her throat and looks back at Derek, “Sorry.” 

“No harm, no foul,” Derek replies, throwing a wink at her, “Plus, you said much worse when you were having Mini Princess here.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Look, how many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn’t have eaten my sandwich.” 

He chuckles, “A crime that deserved me the title of ‘stupid fuc-’”

“Let’s remember there are small ears in the room,” Aaron says sternly, nodding towards Evie, making Derek nod and clear his throat apologetically. 

“I seem to remember it being in French anyway.” 

Emily hums, “Evie knows some French,” she says, leaning in to kiss her daughter’s forehead, “N'est-ce pas, mon ange?” 

“Oui Mama,” Evie replies, mimicking Emily as she mimes the words for her, the words half mumbled as she tripped over the pronunciation.

“Smart girl,” she says, kissing her forehead again, not missing the pride that sparks in Aaron’s eyes too. She smiles at her husband, “We should go eat before I cuss out Morgan for being annoying again.” 

Derek scoffs, “What did I do?” 

She hums playfully, “Something, I’m sure,” she looks at Aaron again, “You ready?” 

“Always,” he replies, turning to Derek, “If Strauss comes by-”

“I’ll tell her you took your girls and Megatron to lunch.” 

Aaron nods gratefully, unable to stop the corners of his lips from twitching up into a smile, “Thanks, Morgan,” he says, his hand on Emily’s back as he leads her towards the elevators, “Right, what do we want for lunch?” 

Emily presses her lips together thoughtfully before her eyes go wide, “Cinnamon rolls.” 

Aaron barely hides a groan, his desire to make her eat at least relatively healthily well known, “Em, that’s not really-”

“We want cinnamon rolls,” she says, tickling Evie, making the girl giggle and squirm a little in her father’s arms, “Right, sweet girl?” 

“Cinna’ wrolls.” 

He shakes his head at them as they step into the elevator, “Fine,” he says, all of them knowing he was always going to get them for them anyway, “We’ll go to that place you love with the cinnamon rolls. But you’re having something else too. Like a sandwich or a salad. Deal?” 

Emily smiles and nods, resting her cheek against his shoulder, contentedly breathing him in. The smell of his cologne and something uniquely Aaron washes over her, the smell she would forever associate with home and safety. 

“Deal.” 

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

I so very rarely cry at fiction but from Tula’s first look in the ending of episode 5 of Burrow’s End I had tears rolling down my cheeks.

There’s something about roleplay I think that makes it a truly incomparable medium for emotion. To roleplay well and really immerse yourself in the game of it all you have to learn to live in your character’s reality. You have to be that character. Because it’s not even like normal method acting where you have the net of the script to catch/trap you, everything that they do every word that comes out of their mouth has to come from YOU. Right then in that moment. and for the trick to work it all has to be true. And that by its very nature inspires empathy and a sort of sublimation of the self to make room for this person and view the world through their eyes. You feel their feelings you experience their grief, their joy. Their catharsis is your own. Good roleplay is making the velveteen rabbit real and it’s one of the most impactful things I’ve ever had the privilege to witness and experience in my life, and God bless actualplay for bringing that to the masses.

[mikeology]

Um, hi! Ok, this is kind of a long ask so feel free to answer it in my inbox, but your little drawing of 1970s peter gabriel as a porcelain doll has deeply inspired me to write a fanfic (based on The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo, the short film The Forgotten Toys, and a little bit on The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams) about him getting turned into a doll by a witch because he's not respecting his bandmates or something and to get turned back into a human he needs to be recognized by them (they don't know it's him at first so they leave him at a consignment shop and it's a whole adventure from there to get back to them with the help of some other toys that look and act suspiciously like his bandmates). I do have some logistical questions that I need to know before I start writing, and I know you might not have thought as in depth about this as I have, but I just figured I should ask:

how tall is doll!peter?

do you have a drawing of doll!peter standing up so I can get a better look at his dress pattern?

does he have rooted hair or a glued-on wig? (I noticed he still had that bald patch as a doll, nice touch)

are his joints stiff or articulated?

does he have individual fingers, or just mitten hands?

is his whole body porcelain, or just his limbs and head?

Thanks for answering my questions! Hope you have a great day, and I hope I can have something to show you soon if you'd like.

hi i’m just about to go to bed and my sense of using words coherently is going downhill so sorry if this reply is badly done……please please please feel free to ask me to clarify if needed

first of all holy moly i never in a million years would’ve thought someone would’ve felt the need to write a fic about a little guy in my sketchbook. image of me⬇️ it means a lot

the premise of it sounds positively effervescent and i’m very excited to read it when you get round to it

to be honest i have barely thought anything through as it was a goofy art prompt my friend gave me offhandedly while we were watching a movie and i know jack shit about dolls but if i were to follow my heart i think

20cm tall

🧍

3. rooted

4. stiff

5. individual fingers, i just don’t like drawing hands skull emoji

6. limbs and head? i think he’d be soft in the middle

side note i have been working on a little doll project of my own over the course of the past few days. not at all close to finishing but i have five tapeworms

keep me posted and feel free to ask more dollpeter questions if need be…club bed ft dj pillow and mc blanky are calling…

[ihatesocialmedia45]

Chapter 3: The Velveteen Rabbit

Okay, I know I'm spamming - but I have like 13 chapters of this fic, so bear with me! I will post 5 chapters total tonight and then I'll stop, I swear.

Summary:

Homelander's descent isn't just apparent to him - but to the Seven as well. Sage and Maeve team up and investigate.

Notes:

"Maeve (and Sage)": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BfyVPHsAMM

Maeve slunk down the hall, a wobble in her step. The bright glare of the sun streamed down on her through Vought's gigantic windows, and she squinted, throwing a hand over her face. It was 10am - she was late for the Seven's meeting, by about 30 minutes. The thought didn't truly concern her - after all, what was there to say? "New York is a cesspool." "Crime is up 5%."  "Here's an itinerary full of staged saves."

She thought back to Starlight and Maeve's banter at the New Year's event, face souring in disgust. "350 saves," she mocked under her breath. 

But no matter. It's not as if, a few years ago, Maeve hadn't worn that same shining optimism on her chest like a badge of honor. It hadn't even been five, if she recalled correctly. Saving children from drowning in fake pools on sets, disgusted with the theatrics - but proud nonetheless, when she saw it reported on the news. She sighed. Badge of honor, she scoffed internally. Five years... had she really fallen so far, so fast?

Reaching the door of the meeting room, she prized it open tentatively, though she knew there was no use. Everyone within the room was super-abled - and, of course, as she made her faltering entrance to the room, all eyes of the Seven bore down on her, a myriad of expressions that set her nerves fraying.

There was Deep, in his usual stupor, lips parted in confusion, brow furrowed stupidly. He raised a hand, looking around the table. "Oh, hey, Maeve's here."

Homelander rolled his eyes. "Very astute, Deep. Yes, Maeve is here." She thought she saw a shadow of darkness flit across his eyes - which could have been about anything, she assured herself. If anyone cared less about these meetings than her, it was Homelander. The only rival to her apathy, her dark match in more ways than one. She let the thought blow past her. Not the time.

Maeve took her seat, settling in, letting Ashley's words lull her into a state of dull compliance and allow her to slip from the role of "lush, drunk at 10 am" to "attentive member of the Seven". 

She looked on with a half-lidded gaze, barely registering the slides Ashley clicked through, instead focusing on the heartbeats of her teammates. It was something she did when she wanted to still her own; Starlight's was jumpy, erratic - like an overexcited puppy. Maeve grimaced. Deep's was almost alarmingly slow, though whether this was a testament to his aquatic nature, or a reflection of a man unimpeded by thought (and therefore worry), she didn't know. She didn't care. Firecracker's heartbeat was... strong, she admitted with grudging respect. Red. A-Train's heart... she bit back an anxious rumble in her throat. She knew that his dependency on Compound V took a massive strain on his heart, and the super-speed likely didn't help, but the resulting arrhythmia was unsettling, nonetheless. His heart would race... then lull, then, for the smallest instant, stop entirely. His face betrayed his worry - a tightening of the eyes, a twitch of the hand, reaching, then stopping, for his heart. But the muscle resumed what would now be its normal pace, and he relaxed, if only for a moment. 

Sage and Noir's hearts, Maeve had noted with surprise, were nearly in sync, and the two she focused on when her own grip on control was tenuous. The two beat only one step out of tune with each other, the calm, resounding thud in her ears like the sound pat on a back. She didn't have the presence of mind to speculate on the reasons for this dance they unwittingly engaged in, but she did treasure it secretly. She watched them with vague curiosity, and wondered what it must be like to have that kind of resolve.

Maeve did not listen to her own heartbeat. She did not listen to Homelander's heartbeat. Never.

The thought of him brought dark, murky memories to mind, like fishing Polaroids out of a filthy swamp. The two of them, once blinding in their shared flame, wrapped in an embrace that suffocated her and bound her up, made her whole, all at once. All his love, all his devotion... it spread like a salve over a wound, seeping into her hurt, pressing a kiss into the weeping cut and coming up with blood on his lips. It had felt like coming home.

Sage nudged her, and she flickered back to life. Ashley had asked her opinion on something, who knows what. She blinked, and gave her best approximation of what they'd expect from her: a wry remark, a subtle put-down, a bitter swig of her drink. Sage nudged her again. Maeve shifted away from her. She nudged again, insistent - she'd written her something on a notepad, and slid it in her direction.

I could smell the liquor on your breath 30 yards out. Maybe you should cool it.

Maeve gave an irritated sigh, picking up the pen, scribbling hard as she filled in a big, red droplet beside her message, sliding it to Sage with a nasty smile.

Your eye is leaking blood. Maybe don't throw stones from the glass nuthouse.

Sage brought a swift hand to her eye, and finding no blood, gave Maeve a bitter scoff - but nodded, resigned.

The meeting carried on, placid and meaningless, until the subject of Vought's newest endeavor came up: the Annual Hero Expo. Homelander, of course, would be hosting, and Ashley looked around the room, with a look of premature defeat yet unrelenting hope plastered across her face.

"We have 3 additional slots that need to be filled! And there will be food, comped travel... free parking? A bonus, plus commission?"

The team turned its bleak gaze onto her, all seven of them the picture of distain and outright refusal. Ashley gave a whine.

"Come on, guys! Don't make me pick names out of a hat again, please? Deep... this is your target audience, males aged 16-25! And A-Train..."

A-Train gave her a petulant look - but the sight of her, imploring him, shifted his mood. He sighed. "Fine, sign me up."

"Yes! Thank you! See, everyone - you could all take a page from A-Train's book." 

A-Train seemed to brighten, if subtly, at the statement - though a withering glance from Homelander ended the moment swiftly.

Ashley managed to wheedle the other two - Sage, and Maeve (whom Sage had volunteered the both of, much to Maeve's irritation) before the meeting drew to an unceremonious close. The team hastily filed out, leaving the two women alone.

"Look, I don't know if being 'the world's smartest person' -" Maeve started, voice laced with disbelief and barely-concealed rage. Sage cut her off smoothly, her self-assured nod making Maeve see red.

"I am," she replied simply. Maeve ground her teeth until she felt the slick shift of her molars give way to a grind of aching intensity, the crack audible in her ears. She closed her eyes, and started again.

"I don't care. That doesn't give you the right to impose whatever Lex Luther ass plan you have on other people's lives." Sage snorted.

"What else did you have planned for the day? Burying your sorrows in pussy and Jack Daniels? We have good shit, by the way. Your self hatred is just so all-consuming you won't even allow yourself good poison."

Maeve had had it; with that, she rose to her feet, gathered Sage by her shirt, and slammed her into the wall, breath violent against her cheek.

"You need to watch how you speak to me," she whispered, the snap of her canines hot on Sage's nose.

Sage looked up at her, her lips parted slightly, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Curiosity, Maeve realized, too late - and before she knew it, Sage had darted a hand up to her ear - her hand, soft, warm, almost hot - and pressed soundly on the space behind her earlobe. Instantly, she erupted in pain and staggered back, her hold slackened. Sage stepped smoothly out of her reach.

"And you... should keep your hands to yourself," she answered lowly. She let Maeve come to, before extending a hand. Maeve gave her a glare - but took it, and rose.

"Bitch..." Maeve muttered. Sage beamed. "Don't forget it."

Maeve seethed quietly, but the dust had begun to settle in the wake of their fight. Sage gestured for the redhead to walk with her, and they exited the room, their footsteps echoing in the empty space.

"So... I know you didn't sign us up for that bullshit expo just for the fun of it. Why?" Maeve and Sage were sitting in Vought's cafeteria, lounging over coffee. They rarely left the Tower if not on business these days; while Maeve was sure that Sage had her own reasons, things to run from, for her, it was about the silence of her apartment. The stale scent of despair that wafted through the entire place, so thick and unyielding that she swore she could smell it on her skin when she left - and that others could, as well. Certainly Homelander could. He tried to mention it to her once - and she'd gone off. No thoughts of what he could do to her - just an endless stream of vitriol so intense that even he stepped back, hands raised. For anyone else, he would have repaid this disrespect with a death so gruesome that putting yourself out of your misery was the only viable option. But for Maeve, he relented. He knew what it was like for someone to poke the bear within. He understood.

Maeve took a sip of her drink - an Americano, dappled with a hint of French Vanilla, a load of heavy whip - and a bite of Daniels, a shark fin beneath the milky surface.

Sage took a sip in turn - water. Iceberg water. Antarctica. 

She nodded, and when she opened her mouth to speak, the faintest hint of a condensation cloud  billowed from her lips. Maeve leaned in. Condensation cloud... more like condescension cloud. She snorted at her own joke. Sage raised a brow - but Maeve waved it off. 

"You're right," she said, leaning forward in turn. "I want you to come to the Expo with me, to do a bit of... investigation."

Now it was Maeve's turn to raise a brow. Sage gave a discreet look around, before searching through her satchel to find a pen and paper. Maeve pressed her lips together, waiting.

"So, I saw your save last week on VNN. Really good stuff - my cousin actually showed it to me, she loves you," Sage's tone was light, belying the tense preamble she'd started just seconds ago. But Maeve caught on quickly, darting her eyes down to the table, to see that Sage had written, in small, neat print, unlined twice:

Homelander.

Maeve felt a slithering sense of unease ripple under her skin, though she did not shiver. She brought her eyes to Sage's for a brief moment, before writing in turn.

"That's so sweet... every time I do a save, I always think of the girls from my first Expo. My biggest fans. I paid for their colleges."

Why? Is something... wronger than usual?

Sage snorted, eyes crinkled in amusement, before her gaze turned more severe. The scratch of the pen against the paper rattled Maeve; she took another sip of her drink.

He was shouting last night. Talking to himself. He hasn't been the same since New Year's. 

Maeve furrowed a brow, pen shaking in her hand, dread creeping up her spine.

Not the same... how?  A violent scratch of the pen - Sage flipped the notebook over then, urgently. Maeve gasped.

Sage placed the book, calmer now, into her bag, before turning her gaze - piercing, methodical. The Arctic - onto Maeve.

"I don't know," she said lowly. "But we need to find out."

They started with the camera footage, going after hours so as to not arouse suspicion. Clad in black (Sage had insisted, the dramatic, Maeve snorted), they crept into Vought's Surveillance Department, the whisper of their footsteps muffled by pieces of cloth Sage had glued to the bottoms. Logging into the system brought a vibrant glow to the room, the blue light casting eerie shadows onto Sage's face. But no matter - she'd taped a thick, black sheet of poster board to the window at the door.

The hum of the monitor droned low and threatening as Sage clicked through the security footage, flicking through with a dizzying speed that Maeve had to turn her eyes from, until Sage gave a soft gasp, and she turned to face her.

Homelander. He was flying home, sneaking in through the window - the video was timestamped at 2:38am. January 1st.

"Why the window?" Maeve murmured, leaning in despite the mounting disquiet that swirled within her.

What does he have to hide?

The video ended there, with him sweeping inside the window, shutting it behind him, then cutting to static.

Maeve looked at Sage, a million questions on her lips - but Sage held up a finger, and fishing through her page, produced a small camcorder.

"I recorded this the other night. Outside his room."

The two women leaned into the camcorder, ears nearly touching, listening to the crunch and pop of the tape rolling within.

Anger, in his voice. But... not just anger. Rage. Blindingly hot, searing rage. The intensity of his shouts made Maeve flinch... but the next thing out of his mouth made her entire body go cold.

"Jo-ohn..!" Maeve's jaw dropped, and she looked to Sage, who'd heard this nightmare already - her gaze, though level, hinted at a subtle disturbance by the audio.

"There's nobody in there..." Maeve whispered. Sage shook her head.

"And get this," she continued, fishing her phone out of her bag as well, and playing a video. Homelander's New Year Speech. Maeve grimaced.

"Yeah, even I'd noticed he was a bit... off, that night." she recalled his blank stare, the way they'd had to try for attention 3 times on the walk to the meeting room. He'd seemed... almost defeated. Depressed, even. Maybe bordering on a mental break... she couldn't banish the thought of his eyes, clouded over and flat where they usually sparked with dark vigor, and power. Broken, Maeve realized. The realization brought a sinking feeling with it. Homelander survived only by virtue of the mask. The one that painted him as a god, untouchable and blisteringly cold. If that mask were to slip, or crack... Maeve's anxiety spiked.

"I think something happened, either before New Year's, or directly after," Sage stated, logging the computer off, storing the camcorder and phone away. "That's why we're going to the Expo. To find out."

She rose to her feet, retrieved the poster board, breaking it down into squares, and put that in her bag, too. Then, she rolled a chair to the way they'd entered: a vent in the ceiling. Maeve hoisted her into the crawlspace before joining her, the thud of Sage's heartbeat echoing in their close quarters, resolute as always. Slowly, as she let the sound move through her, Maeve felt her pulse stop its jagged upward climb.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

It's interesting how word associations change and don't change over the years, because even though I don't really know what 'velveteen' is (besides some kind of material) the idea of a 'velveteen rabbit' still conjures up something small and cute and soft and strokeable— but meanwhile his best friend and mentor The Skin Horse sounds like something out of a second rate creepypasta that gave you nightmares when you were thirteen.

[saintsenara]

as we gear up for the next round of @ladiesofhpfest, the first week of which begins tomorrow, i'm having a self-indulgent saturday-night promote of the pieces i wrote for the 2023 edition of the fest...

you can find the ao3 collection here - featuring seventy-five amazing [and completed!] female-character-centric stories and artworks - and, if the inspiration strikes you, you can find the schedule for this year's fest here.

chewing gum

remus lupin/nymphadora tonks teen | 2.1k words an auror walks into a bar and misses a werewolf.

the velveteen rabbit

mrs cole & tom riddle general | 3.2k words a boy has scarlet fever and wants his mother. he gets mrs cole instead.

five motets for a time of mourning

minerva mcgonagall & severus snape general | 6.5k words five snapshots from hogwarts castle, in that dreadful year when snape was headmaster.

the scrunchie

minor characters general | 4.5k words nobody would have let hermione granger borrow the scrunchie. but that's fine, because this story isn't about her at all.

the shack at the end of the lane

merope gaunt & lord voldemort general | 4.2k words it was an unconventional choice, on the part of the universe, to make tom riddle's victims meet his mother the moment they arrived in the afterlife.

death (eaters) in paradise

bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort mature | 7.3k words a spanish anti-muggle group wishes to meet with the dark lord in marbella. so, it makes perfect sense for his favourite lieutenant to go with him. after all, she could do with a holiday.

leather

nymphadora tonks/various explicit | 2.9k words war looms and tonks goes on a journey.

atramentum

bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort teen | 1.9k words two lovers pass a halloween afternoon.

bookbinding

tom riddle/myrtle warren teen | 35.5k words which will win: sixteen years of planning for brutal world domination, or one (1) teenage girl?

everlasting ink

delphini riddle & ginny weasley teen | 6.2k words ginny weasley has always been a magnet for dark-haired orphans. what's one more?

inhuman resources

dolores umbridge teen | 4.2k words speaking from the fire in the gryffindor common room, sirius black will assure his godson that dolores umbridge is definitely not a death eater. how does he know? well, he's seen the paper trail...

catmint

minerva mcgonagall & pomona sprout teen | 1.6k words the day after the war ends, grief is green.

the pleiades

bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort teen | 2.6k words bellatrix learns to fly.

sparkling cyanide

hokey & hepzibah smith general | 1.4k words tom riddle had nothing to do with the death of hepzibah smith. hokey had just had enough of being a slave.

bó na leath adhairce

merope gaunt teen | 6.6k words a coming of age story for an invisible girl.

ecclesiastes three

andromeda tonks & bellatrix lestrange & narcissa malfoy teen | 9.4k words to sisterhood there is a season.

[princess-of-the-corner]

So, are you still taking MonsterMHA Asks? What is everybody?

YES

So this is basically trading powers for Magic and Monsters SO

Gonna start off with the Complicated™ bits before going into what everything is.

The Complicated stuff is the AfO/OfA and Izuku-Tenko situation!

AfO and Yoichi are both Fae.

The OfA passing-down-power thing is a powerful Fae Deal made between the users and passed down. Some users were various other monster species.

Now for the Izuku-Tenko situation. Basically, Changelings!

AfO wanted to yoink Tenko to use for his plans because he's a petty bitch like that. But he /is/ Fae he has to obey by the nature of Fae and trade something. So he creates a child of his own to trade for a different child.

He puts the Changeling Child in Tenko's room, the child's magic working to make him resemble the other, and takes the real Tenko. But he's also still a petty bitch so he decides to try and kill the family via house fire.

This doesn't entirely work because the Changeling Child wanders off. He's found by Inko, and imprints on her as a mother-figure almost immediately, his still-active Magic causing his features to switch from looking like 'Tenko' to looking like if Inko was his real mother.

Because the Child ran away and looks different, no one clocks him as 'Tenko' anymore. Tenko is presumed dead by fire, the Child is assumed to be abandoned. Inko takes him in and names him 'Izuku'.

This leads to some later fuckery because the Changeling Deal is not complete, as Izuku didn't replace Tenko, and now he never can because he's crafted the identity of 'Izuku'. But both Izuku and Tenko have claim to the name 'Tomura Shigaraki' or anything where the wording is about AfO's child.

Anyway! All the other fuckery of who's what:

the rest of 1-A

Katsuki - Werewolf (newly turned. Like literally had a single Full Moon before UA)

Ochako - Bakeneko

Shoto - Demon/Angel hybrid (Yeah basically for all the Todorokis just imagine their same Fire/Ice but with this nonsense)

Kirishima - Dragon

Mina - Slime

Denki - Frankenstein's Monster

Iida - Pegasus

Tsu - Merfolk

Sero - Arachne/Spidertaur

Momo - Selkie (Bear Variant)

Jiro - Human/Witch (Bard)

Fumikage - Harpy (botw-style rito tbh)

Eimi - Living Shadow

Hagakure - Ghost

Koda - Gargoyle

Ojiro - Tsukumogami of a Wing Chun Wooden Dummy (think Velveteen Rabbit)

Sato - Human/Witch (Potionmaker)

Aoyama - Sphinx

Himiko - Shapeshifter(sometimes also called Changeling but different from Izuku) and afflicted with Vampirism.

Shinso - Siren

(I still don't have anything for Shoji so RIP)

Other UA students:

Tetsutetsu - Dragon

Pony - Unicorn

Mei - Gremlin

Teachers:

Aizawa - Gorgon

Present Mic - Banshee

Midnight - Succubus/Incubus

Vlad King - Vampire

Nezu - Former Witch's Familiar, now a Witch himself.

All Might - Human-turned-Fae via OfA Contract.

Bonus characters:

Eri - Kirin(Dragon/Unicorn hybrid)

Lady Nagant - Human/Witch (Necromancer), formerly The Grim Reaper

Hawks - Erote, currently The Grim Reaper

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - May 7th

 HELLO MY LOVELY FRIENDS I MISSED YOU!!! Last week was a mess BUT I closed on my house Monday (OMG) and now we’re in the home stretch before we move (!!!!!). Quick note: 

I’m going to be moving May 21, so the rec list might be kinda off that weekend, but I’ll pre-plan something! Enjoy and be sure to drop a kudos/comment for your author! 

~*~ 

Mark Zero by enkiduu

Tony wears his lack of soulmark with pride.

lover, we always fall by enkiduu

Dying in a world with reincarnation is easy. Living in one is hard, because history inevitably follows you, and you can't always decide what your legacy is.

You try to change history, but your Icarus only ever chooses the same thing he's always chosen.

(In which Tony is Icarus and Steve is the ocean.)

ignorance is (not) bliss by earliebirb

One of Tony’s hands shoots up to grab his wrist, gripping it tightly. Slowly, Tony opens his eyes.

Steve’s blood freezes in his veins. His heart sinks with dread. 

“Tony?” Steve hopes that this is just some weird bout of sleepwalking, but Tony doesn’t sleepwalk, and from the thoughtful way Tony regards him, Steve knows that Tony is somehow very much awake, which means—

Tony swallows, his eyes wide and alert in a way Steve didn’t think they were capable of being twenty minutes ago. 

“Steve,” he says, the single word carrying too much weight.

the stark-tangled man with a crappy plan by Serinah for AvengersNewB

*At first, it seemed to be an easy job: find the O, secure the O, and hand him over to his guardian and the fiance. Simple. Unfortunately, the omega wasn't onboard. At all.*

OR:

Steve has to return a runaway omega to his guardian Mr. Stane.

Where Lies A Home by XtaticPearl

They're in the middle of the most complicated and risky fight of their lives, placing their bets on a distant memory right now, and basically in deep trouble if the plan doesn't work out. Steve knows he should be stressed and somewhere in the corner of his mind, he is a little. Mostly though, he's having fun and strangely, so is Tony.

Yes, Just Like This by gottalovev

Tony wakes up in a hospital on another planet missing his memories of the last eleven years. It's now 2023, and he learns the Avengers saved half the universe. Unfortunately, not everything he forgot is good news.

(An Endgame Alternate Universe AND Civil-War fix-it and get together story, weaved through a space road trip with Steve, Carol and Nebula. Complete but cut in 5 chapters for ease of reading.)

messages from the stars by Thahire

Steve's not expecting to find anything remotely of interest when he steps into Macy’s, of all places, in a last-ditch effort to find a present for Tony.

Somehow, he ends up leaving with an engagement ring.

Still Got It by KandiSheek 

Ever since Tony's close call in their battle against Thanos Steve treats him like he's going to break at the slightest pressure. He won't so much as look at the bionic arm either. So Tony takes matters into his own hands to prove that he can still handle himself just fine.

Soul Searching (The Hop, Skip, Jump Remix) by navaan

Tony lives a peaceful life in Irondale and then Steve Rogers drifts into town. It's the beginning of a romance — and not all is what it seems.

Code Icarus by FestiveFerret

Steve Rogers hates falling, but he hates being caught even more.

Truths, Lies and the Tipping Point by BlackEyedGirl

The news report seems more interested in the argument between the team during the fight than the way they eventually won. And then it gets worse.

Me in You by Captain_Panda

What if J.A.R.V.I.S. was Tony?

That is, what if a lonely genius Velveteen Rabbited his computer program into a real being instead of just his own thoughts talking back at him?

A deep dive into a broken psyche, contemplating Tony's loneliness, J.A.R.V.I.S.'s protectiveness, and the mother of all broken genius families. Mostly because Howard Stark never hugged his son.

Depthless by Captain_Panda

"Depthless: (1) unfathomably deep; (2) shallow and superficial."

Weeks after defrosting Captain America, S.H.I.E.L.D. finds Steve Rogers lying at the bottom of a pool. Assumptions are made. They have no idea what they are dealing with.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark, the man-in-the-spotlight, has demons lurking off-radar that are literally filling his lungs with water.

Ignoring either problem was never an option. This is the story of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark's collision course.

For What It's Worth by Captain_Panda

S.H.I.E.L.D. thaws out Captain America, expecting a combat-ready soldier to greet them.

They get Steve Rogers instead, a broken artist who turns to the violin for salvation.

hold your fire by JenTheSweetie

He watched Tony eat an entire steak and listened to him talk about the work he was doing on the Milano while he downed glass after glass of expensive scotch. Just as Steve was about to suggest they head back to the jet, Tony finished his last glass, put it down firmly, and said, "I want to blow you."

Steve stared at him.

"Let's get a hotel room," Tony said, like that was that, and somehow - and Steve never could explain how, not then and not now and not later - it was.

Say It Now by ishipallthings 

“I’m glad you’re here, Tony,” Steve tells him. It’s not everything he wants to say, but it’s enough.

Steve thinks it might be one of the most important things he’s ever said.

(Steve and Tony have a conversation the night before the time heist. Maybe second chances aren’t impossible after all.)

a hop, skip, and a jump by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)

“Before I go, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

“About?” they ask they return the stone to its place.

“Timelines. Alternate realities.”

--

Steve returns the stones to their rightful places in time, gets his dance with Peggy, and then embarks on a whole new search.

Give Me Just A Little More Time by Robin_tCJ 

Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame. A full summary will live in the author’s notes, so you have to click to read it, but the premise is that this is technically canon divergent in the sense that I’m treating it as… a few deleted scenes in the middle, there. It’ll only make sense if you’ve seen the movie, and if you haven’t seen the movie it will definitely spoil you for it. Written in kind of a sketchy, lots-of-really-short-scenes style.

falling like the stars by complicationstoo

When Tony starts at MIT, he's excited to finally be in the same city as his older brother, Bucky, again. Then he meets Bucky's roommate and best friend Steve Rogers and falls faster than he would have ever thought possible.

[theelvenhaven]

Unexpected Gift

Little!Vanifinwe x Brothers

2.6k words

Make You Pretty | Enhanced Beauty | Breakfast Reveals | Unexpected Farewell | Unexpected Gift

* * *

Carnistir was silent as he looked over the new stuffed rabbit he had sewn together. Vanifinwe had lost hers… permanently. A pup of Celegorm’s had mauled Sir Rabbit to the point that he couldn't be fixed or saved, all of his stuffing ripped out, his face ripped apart and fluffy bits of fabric had been left everywhere. She had been an inconsolable mess when she had arrived back to see the said surprise. Only to find him in shreds. 

It had been something Carnistir had thrown together as just sewing practice, never intending for it to become Vanifinwe’s comfort item. Yet it had been her most precious possession, and now he was gone. So Carnistir had taken it upon himself to create a new Sir Rabbit. 

One that was much nicer than the scrap fabric one. Especially seeing her so sad and even heartbroken over the loss of her toy. Nothing so far could replace Sir Rabbit, their parents- try as they might- offered up toys of all kinds to soothe her. Yet it just wasn’t the same for the elfling, rejecting all of them no matter how soft and beautiful that they were. No matter how many rabbits or even bears…. And little stuffed animal doggies were an absolute no for now. 

Vanifinwe wouldn’t even see Huan, distressed by any dog that got near her and what dolls she would play with. Even if Huan wasn’t responsible, the damage had been done. Tyelkormo had even been making efforts to try and soothe Vanifinwe and entertain her feeling guilty that it had been one of his pups that had gotten ahold of Sir Rabbit. 

No one knew how to fix it, save maybe Carnistir. Who had made this stuffed animal rabbit, look strikingly like Sir Rabbit, save he was made from exquisitely soft velveteen. What fabric bits and glass eyes and nose was left over, Carnistir was able to fashion them to the rabbit. Hoping it would offer her comfort and familiarity. 

He even remembered Sir Rabbit’s proportions. Which at the time had seemed so foolish that he remembered something as silly as a stuffed animal's proportions. But never had he been more grateful that he had until now. 

No one, save Curvo, had known that he had decided to take on the task of trying to recreate Sir Rabbit. Having spent weeks on making sure he was just right, and even making little prototypes he could give to her later as well if she was receptive to this one. Though he wasn’t wholly optimistic of what the outcome would be, and naturally Curvo hadn’t been much for reassurance either. 

Telling him that it was a waste of time seeing as Vanifinwe was just going to reject it just as she had every other stuffed animal that had been given to her. Going on to add that even if there was a slim possibility that she would take it… It was far too nice and she’d just destroy the beauty of the rabbit. This one was incredibly nice. A labor of love, as others would say describing things they’ve created. 

But Carnistir didn’t care if it would drug through the mud by the elfling, he just wanted to see his sister happy again. Who had been incredibly difficult in these last few weeks without her comfort item. Only Atya could console her and even then she wasn’t wholly cooperative for him either, still putting up a weak fight and getting teary eyed and only going to sleep if it was with him and on him. 

Their Amme and Atya’s bed had surely been crowded over the last couple weeks, and she would only stay up all night if she was left to her own devices in her room. Making her a mighty terror the following morning and day. Her behavior was completely uncharacteristic and it didn’t seem like she was getting over the loss any time soon. 

Everyone needed a break from Vanifinwe, and Vanifinwe needed a break from her very big emotions for someone so little. 

Gently Carnistir ran his thumb across the reddish brown velveteen, looking into those little glass blue eyes that were chipped with a tooth mark or two and its little button nose. His hand squeezed making sure Sir Rabbit was fluffy enough, coming down to its feet where he had sewn a patchwork of the old scraps onto them. With a little star on the bottom in fine gold embroidery. 

Nothing like the Feanorian star, just something simple that he knew little Vanifinwe would enjoy once she saw it. He sighed out, before standing from his sewing table. Knowing he wouldn’t be fully satisfied until he knew whether or not his little sister was satisfied with the new Sir Rabbit. 

Leaving his room, Carnistir began to make his way through the hallways. Passing by maids and servants, ner and nis who were there for reasons Carnistir didn’t care about. So he paid them no mind, save for when they greeted him, he tried to at least nod in their direction. To have a semblance of courtesy towards them, though today that was not his sole focus. 

It was the sounds of Vanifinwe’s disgruntled voice that began to fill the hallway. Her little foot stamping down onto the floor and Carnistir could hear the pout on her lips as she spoke to Tyelkormo in a sad tone. Quietly he crept to the door of her room, passing by Huan who lay loyally outside the door even if Vanifinwe wouldn’t let him in. Only to find Tyelkormo dressed… interestingly…

A small satin cap was around his neck, and his platinum hair were in an array of numerous pigtails sticking off all around his head. Carnistir curled his lips inwards to see him, trying not to smile or laugh to see him in such a manner. It only added to the hilarity as he jingled when he moved, holding a doll in one hand with other hand on his hip, dressed with bangles on each wrist and jewelry draping from his neck. 

From what he could see there was red lipstick smeared across his face, and his eyes were hastily done with lots and lots of blush… In fact almost his whole face was pink. He really had been trying to do anything to make things better for their baby sister. Carnistir would certainly credit him with that much at least. Any other time he’d have a slew of insults and would laugh at him, but Tyelkormo spoke next;

“Vani, you are clearly tired. You need a nap.” Tyelkormo said in a firm but exasperated voice, but the little elfling only humphed out folding her arms even tighter across her wrinkled red dress. 

“I want Atya.” She rebutted in a sad voice, her little lip poking out and quivering slightly. Making Tyelkormo sigh out again, trying to reason with an elfling who had their mind set on something was impossible. Especially one with a will like their father’s. 

“Vani… Atya is busy working, he cannot be here for you today.” Tyelkormo tried to reason despite himself, knowing it was only going to fail. But Vanifinwe only began to sniffle, bringing her hands up to cover her eyes with the heel of her hand. Something she did when she tried not to cry, 

“Vani… Don’t cry…” Tyelkormo said in a surprisingly soft voice, moving to approach her with a little swoosh coming from his cape, Carnistir watched as he kneeled down and brought his hands to her shoulders. Trying to pull her into him for a hug, but he was met with resistance. Vanifinwe immediately began to pull away from Tyelko.

“I want Atya! I don’t want you!” The elfling rebutted in a weepy voice, Carnistir watched as his hasty tempered brother was quickly losing his patience and he found it was his cue to step in. Before Tyelkormo couldn’t handle anymore, seeing as he had been the sole person to spend time with her in an effort to make up for what his pup had done to Sir Rabbit. He knew when his brother was at his breaking point and Vanifinwe was quickly driving him there. 

“Vani-” But before he could say anything else, Vanifinwe was already there hugging his leg sniffling. 

“Moryo, tell Tyelko I don’t him, I want Atya.” He heard Tyelkormo groan and when Carnistir looked up at him he couldn’t tell if his face was reddened with frustration or not. For the love of Eru… Generous with the makeup had been an understatement of what was going on with his face. 

Regardless Carnistir began to squat down and held one arm out to coax her into a hug, and though she was reluctant Vanifinwe went into his arm immediately. Bringing Tyelkormo to both feel frustration that it was so easy for Carnistir, and relieved that she wanted someone other than him. Everyone had certainly shouldered some of the blame onto him, even if they hadn’t said it directly. 

So he went and sat down at one of the tiny chairs in the room, resting his head in his hand and watching Carnistir and Vanifinwe interact. 

“I know Vani, but Atya said he was busy today.” Carnistir said in a gentle voice, and he could hear her whimper out. Before burying her face into his chest, she was exhausted and it was clear in the way that she acted and from what he had seen on her face too. He only wrapped his arm a little tighter around her shoulders and hugging her close. 

For a long moment the pair stayed like this, with his arm wrapped around her letting her keep her face buried into his chest. She was unmoving from her spot, and after sometime Carnistir and Tyelkormo both shared a look, both wondering if she had finally fallen asleep before he felt her shift in his hold. Starting to fidget and bring her arms up to hug his neck, her little fingers fiddling with the collar of his tunic. 

“Vani, I have something for you.” Carnistir said softly, feeling her only continue to hold him for a long moment, before she finally pulled away. Her hand coming to gently wipe away the tears that wet her lashes, 

“You do?” She asked sniffling still, and Tyelkormo shot him a look telling him no. Due to the fact he knew where this was going, Tyelkormo didn’t want to deal with a full blown meltdown because the stuffed animal didn’t work out. He vigorously shook his head at Carnistir’s words in an effort to deter him. But it was too late. 

“I made this for you.” Carnistir answered, looking at his little sister who looked up at him with big blue eyes watching him with sleepy curiosity. Quietly bringing out the new floppy velveteen rabbit out from behind his back. For a moment there was silence as her big eyes moved to land on the rabbit that he was holding out to her. 

Like all the others for a moment she brought her hands up to her eyes, before Carnistir watched her peek out from behind them looking back at the floppy rabbit again. All was still as they both held their breath waiting to see how Vanifinwe would react to the rabbit, even Tyelkormo had to do a double take seeing as it looked strikingly similar to the last rabbit. 

But after a moment, Vanifinwe pulled her hands away from her eyes and gently reached out for the rabbit. Quietly she held the rabbit in her hands, looking down at it’s glass eyes before she began to grow emotional. Not because she hated it, because it was just like Sir Rabbit, except he was brown instead of blue and gray. 

“You made this for me?” Vanifinwe asked tearfully, slowly beginning to bring the rabbit up to clutch tightly to her chest in a hug. Carnistir began to nod at her words, letting a little smile come to his lips seeing that she was so accepting of the stuffed rabbit. Tyelkormo threw his head back, sighing in relief as he leaned back in the little chair. Finally the reign of terror from the inconsolable elfling was over. 

“Thank you hanyo, I loves hims so much.” She began in a weepy voice, starting to cry as she moved back in to hug Carnistir. Even hugging the rabbit, felt just like Sir Rabbit. Carnistir came and brought both of his arms around her, picking her up from the floor as she rested her head against his shoulder. Still tightly clutching the new rabbit. 

“Thank Eru Iluvatar.” Tyelkormo breathed out, relieved that finally someone had come up with something to soothe her. He didn’t even have the heart to chastise Carnistir for taking so long, just glad that it had finally been done. 

It took hardly any time for Vanifinwe to grow comfortable on her brother's shoulder, closing her eyes as the tears finally quelled themselves and growing limp in his hold as she fell asleep in his arms. Carnistir simply held her close before the pair looked at one another, 

“Don’t say it.” Tyelkormo said defensively, seeing the faint smirk on Carnistir’s lips. Knowing that he was going to tell him how he looked like shit, and that was perhaps the understatement of the century. Tyelkormo rose to his feet, his pigtails flopping about from the force in which he stood, ready to defend himself from his brother. 

“You look like shit.” Carnistir said it anyways and Tyelkormo shot Carnistir a glare, 

“I know. But what was I supposed to do, tell her no after what happened?” He grumbled out, folding his arms over his chest. Vanifinwe only stirred slightly in his hold, taking in a deep and shaky breath, squeezing the new rabbit in her hold even tighter to her. Both ner grew quiet for a moment, watching her on baited breath a little fearful she would wake up. 

“I am taking a break. To get this-” Tyelkormo began to wave and motion to his face that was slathered in makeup, “Off my pretty face.” Carnistir snorted at Tyelkormo’s words, 

“I don’t know, I think it is just better hiding what’s under there.” 

“ Watch it. ” Tyelkormo growled out angrily, coming to undo the tie on the little cape around his neck, making Carnistir release a breathy chuckle. Happy to see him so riled up and upset for once, rather than causing Carnistir to be so upset. 

Tyelkormo grumbled out, snatching the little cape from around his neck and setting it on the table, before he began to walk out of the room. While Carnistir began to move to the bed to sit on while Vanifinwe napped against him, he supposed he could take some time to cuddle with her. It wasn’t often Vanifinwe wanted anyone to cuddle with her while she slept- except Atya recently. 

Tyelkormo paused at the threshold of the door for a moment, debating on what he should say. 

“Thanks, I guess.” He said turning to look at Carnistir, who looked back at Tyelkormo as if he had grown a second and third head. Did he just thank him? For giving Vani her new toy? Or was it because it had spared him from having to argue with the elfling?

“Don’t look at me like that. And don’t get used to it, it’s the only thanks you’re getting.” Tyelkormo said in a temperamental tone, before he stormed out of the room with Huan right on his heels following him. Carnistir only leaned back against the headboard of the bed and closed his eyes, holding his little sister. Wondering if he too would be partial for a little nap with her. 

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss

[fandom-nursery]

Diavolo agere headcanons

Regresses between ages 4-8

Voluntary regressor 

Regresses as often as his work schedule will allow although he rarely feels like the amount of time he gets to be little is enough 

He wishes that he was able to regress whenever he wanted to but his duties as the demon lord get in the way frequently

He is typically a very energetic and enthusiastic little and loves to play! 

Incredibly talkative since he doesn't need to watch what he says while little and can happily to chatter on about all his interests and never have to be quiet or worry about how his words will affect how he is seen as a ruler by his subjects 

He can be a little bit spoiled and gets very bratty when he doesn’t get his way. He grew up as a prince and is used to people doing what he wants 

He craves attention. Growing up without a mom and with a distant father who was quick to be strict with him he didn’t get a lot of it and so will do everything he can to get it now even if it means he has to occasionally act out 

He hates being in trouble so much. He hates to disappoint and doesn’t like it when people are mad at him  

He gets lonely very easily and this results in him being a bit clingy. He likes to be able to see you 

When he’s big his memories of his regression get a little bit fuzzy. He will often admit things to you while small only to not remember telling you once he’s big again 

He will not nap. He gets to regress so rarely and he doesn't want to waste a second of the time he has with sleep no matter how tired he is. He can sleep when he’s big 

He is a little big for most to carry but he loves being in someone's arms and receiving physical affection any way he can so he would be more than happy to be carried if you are able to 

He is up for anything most of the time while little and loves to try new things including art, pretend play, and movie nights

He is very fond of novelty rubber ducks and has started a collection to keep him company in the bath 

He loves to go out and do things. He can’t do much in the devildom due to his status however, he has been able to go do things in the human world with you (and an additional glamor charm barbatos and lucifer both insisted on)

He loves animals and is enraptured by zoos and aquariums 

Diavolo is very active and games like catch and tag are a lot of fun for him. 

His favorite thing about being little are the moments where he gets to be held and cuddled and told that he is good and loved and that you will always be there to take care of him when he needs you 

Big fan of spaghetti and meatballs! Which is great because it’s a very easy meal to hide his veggies in since he usually throws a bit of a fit about eating them 

He gets very messy while little. When he’s big he has to constantly be aware of his appearance but when he’s little all of that pressure goes away and he can be messy without any consequences 

He can not resist purchasing toys for himself and Barbatos and Lucifer frequently have to talk him out of buying anymore. He is a real sucker for any stuffed animal or toy that he thinks looks lonely. Stories like corduroy and the velveteen rabbit really get to him 

He can not be left alone for too long. He spent so much of his childhood alone and while regressed he hates feeling lonely for even a second. If he’s left alone he will very quickly become sad and instantly go searching for someone. If he can’t find them right away he will often be overwhelmed with sadness and loneliness and end up sitting down and sobbing until someone comes and comforts him 

Barbatos insisted he have clothing outside his normal attire for the times he is regressed that can get dirty and be played in without getting ruined. Diavolo has no complaints about this although he can sometimes get fussy about which of his play clothes he wants to wear 

Barbatos and Lucifer have both known about his regression for a very long time. He doesnt hide anything from them usually and he was sort of hoping that if they knew they would volunteer to be his caregiver 

For a long time Barbatos and Lucifer were his caregiver however they are both so busy that between their work schedule and his he almost never got the time to regress. When you come into the picture and offer to help out with taking care of him he is over the moon  

He doesn't plan on using parental titles for you while he’s regressed and it takes you both by surprise when he does.

[elizabethplaid]

Holy shit, I think I just had the best cry I've had in a decade. My god, the catharsis! Like, snot dripping from my nose. And I stayed with the feelings for quite some time, instead of instantly switching to "Oh I'm going to get an A in therapy!" proud of myself, as sometimes happens.

Key phrases were as follows:

I'm seen

I'm not a ghost

I'm real

I did it; I made myself real

Not entirely sure why I chose the word "real", but I think it's in the sense described in "The Velveteen Rabbit". Well, at least partially; and that ties with the phrase "I'm seen".

Idk I just kinda let stuff happen, let my thoughts flow as they needed.

Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that jazz.