#just around the corner au

[irequirealobotomy]

jatc!donnie as my fav pic of marie curie

i am a huge fucking nerd forgive me

image of reference below cut o7

[allyssl]

“Sorry if they’re inaccurate- I can’t exactly see the animals.”

Newt and Bo offer some gifts! @tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Raph's tail thumped as it excitedly wagged. She carefully cupped the little clay cat in his hands, almost to tears with how cute it was. She leaned down to gently headbutt them both before the cat caught his focus again.

"Thank you so much! They're so cute! Raph'll take good care of them!"

[irequirealobotomy]

them frr

Draw your characters like this

[silver-fire-wolf-pokemon-lover]

“Sorry if they’re inaccurate- I can’t exactly see the animals.”

Newt and Bo offer some little gifts. @tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

"Ohmigosh their so cute!" MH!Mikey squealed as he took one. "And you made these yourselves! Oh you two are so talented!"

MH!Donnie rose an eye ridge at the seeing comment. Granted yeah it was very impressive if he did it without seeing anything.

[spacedace]

Had a thought about the Reluctant War and made myself a bit sad and I have no idea if it'll make it into the story proper so I'm going to inflict it upon all you guys:

Dick Grayson on the streets of Gotham trying to do everything he can to help as everyone join the ghosts in fighting the GIW, suddenly has a version of the GAV barreling down towards him and for some reason he can't get out of the way in time.

He thinks he's about to join the army of the dead in a whole new way, when the tank fo a vehicle is suddenly sent flying as something massive charged it from the side. He hears a familiar bellowing and then realizes that it's Zitka, a ghost after passing away peacefully a few years before.

She wasn't apart of the army of the ghosts, wasn't brought in to fight. She's just been following her tiny human child around all these years and now that there's enough ecto in the air to do so, she's going to protect him with all her might.

Dick is emotional, so thankful to have his old friend back, but the city is still in a state of chaos. He gets onto Zitka's back and they get to work, running - flying - around helping to grab the injured and whisk them away to safety or take out other GAVs and the like.

It's absurd and freeing and wonderful all at once to be literally flying through the skies of Gotham on the ghost of his elephant best friend, and if Dick wasn't already on the side of King Phantom he is *now* and -

He gets shot off Zitka's back.

A GIW agent was aiming for the Ghost elephant but somehow *missed* and hit Dick instead. Not enough to injure him too badly, but enough to send him flying off Zitka's back and plummeting to the ground. His grapple is broken, and Zitka is diving for him but she's being shot at and she's not going to make it in time and -

A hand, reaching out to him in midair, familiar with its callouses and strong grip as he reaches out and grasps it, body suddenly swinging in a different direction and muscles acting on memory as he falls into the old, achingly familiar routine of his childhood. His mother, ethereal and bright as she smiles down at him, hanging upside down from a bar suspended from nothing but open sky as they swing and he is let go, flipping on instinct and caught by the steady strong hands of his father.

The Flying Graysons reunited in the skies above Gotham, Dick's ghostly parents determined to ensure their little bird never falls the way they did.

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[irequirealobotomy]

oh? i “havent been posting art”? here, a useless sketch

your honor theyre idiots

this is officially my favourite election picture ever taken

[sleepyc63]

candycane posting (my brain is rotting)

[irequirealobotomy]

Hozier has my brain right now so here, an offering while I work on straightening their story out

I love Too Sweet, I know it’s popular. And its them fr, so, y’know.

Panels!!!

Btw, someone saw me making this and told everyone. I exposed my cringe for you all. Enjoy this.

[allyssl]

Oh no! It appears Cabin 2’s Bo ruined his favorite dress while playing recklessly being super careful looking at outfits! Whatever shall he do?

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Mikey let out a soft hiss as ve walked up with a dress.

"Raph and Dee are cleaning the other one, but Raphie made this one a while ago. You can wear it while we wait!

[justalittleobsessed]

Mikey stops when the Kraangified Turtle points at him. Very quickly he turns around, and when he looks back, he has a red mask on and a scowl on his face. "As a Raphael, I am very competitive and therefore would love to compete in this event." Then he brightens in a very non-Raph way at the mention of his Raphael twin.

"Of course my twin will come! We'll dominate the competition!" He looks around, obviously searching for something.

After a few seconds he laughs, waving his hand as he yells off into the distance. "Hey twinnie! Wanna race some go-carts?"

@languajix I think it might be time for our Mikeys RAPHs to shine...

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Fibonacci invites you on an fun, adrenaline-pumping race on professionally built go-karts! (Genius-Built is not responsible for any injuries sustained on the track, which are entirely possible to sustain even with the provided safety gear. No child under 9 years old should ride alone, and any children under 13 seen alone on the premises will be personally escorted to their guardian.)

Link for more context: https://www.tumblr.com/irequirealobotomy/756468858323419136/genius-built-go-karting

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Mikey seems like he wants to join the go karting event! Under the condition that he is allowed to bring his twin @justalittleobsessed 's Mikey

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

[kettlefire]

DP x DC Therapy Prompt

Part 2

Bruce Wayne makes a point to send all his kids to therapy. It didn't matter how much they moan and groan, they were going.

If Alfred thought it was a good idea to force teenage Bruce to go to therapy, then it's definitely a good idea to send the Batkids.

And it helped. Therapy did good for his kids, and eventually, without fail, the kids started being okay going.

Wanting to go.

So yes, when a new black hair, blue eyed teen joins his family, he included him.

Especially when Danny dropped a trauma-bomb during the middle the dinner like it was nothing. 

If any of his kids needed therapy, it was him.

Thing was, getting Danny to the therapist was like getting a dog to the vet. If the dog had ghostly abilities and was extremely hard to catch.

Cut to the new weekly tradition of "will Danny go to therapy this time?"

They never managed to catch him for his appointment.

Bruce was getting fed up with all the chasing, and arguing, just all of it.

So he decided on a new course of action. His therapist absolutely wasn't the one to suggest it. He decided to finally just ask Danny why he was so against therapy.

He didn't get an answer. Instead, Danny deflected the question. Asked him why it's so important, the teen was fine. He didn't need therapy. Danny got defensive.

Bruce dropped it.

After all, how could he forced an over-powered teenage king into going to a regular old therapy office?

As much as Bruce says he forces his children into therapy, he doesn't actually really force anyone. If someone puts their foot down, he'll back off.

He never brought up again, never bothered trying. Danny made it clear he didn't like therapy, regardless the reason.

Bruce can respect that. He just wished Danny would just give it a try.

Then one night, when he got home from patrol, Danny was waiting for him in the cave.

Looking ridiculously uncomfortable, and fidgeting, Danny finally talked to him. Even as Bruce watch tears gather.

Danny recounted everything that happened when he dealt with a therapist for the first and only time. How she turned out to be an evil ghost, driving the students of his high school into a deep depression.

How it took so long for him to be able to get pulled out of it. His fear that there will be a repeat, and he doesn't think he can handle it. All the fear and anxiety he felt every time they mentioned him going to therapy.

The adrenaline response he’s body would kick into. 

That night ended with a hug as the teen silently cried. Bruce promising him over and over again that no one would force him to go. If he ever decided to give it a try, he can leave the session at any moment. Fire the therapist.

Whatever Danny needed, Bruce would give it to him. 

A few weeks later, Bruce was happy Danny was giving it a try. 

[headfullof-ideas]

HTTYD AU idea that I’ll never write because I have too many projects, one a personal rewrite of the HTTYD universe following a potential outcome where the kids all follow Hiccup into exile via dragon back, and speed running the events of RoB, DoB, and RTTE in the span of a few years. ANYWAYS

Snotlout and Hiccup are cousins, but Spitelout, being Spitelout, starts dropping earworms in Snotlout’s ears about how Hiccup will never be Chief, being too small and sickly and un-vikingkly. Only this is when Snotlout and Hiccup are smol, and somewhat close-ish, as little kids tend to be before they get older and start developing an awareness of their surroundings.

Baby Snotlout hears this and comes to the five-year old child logical conclusion that he must protect his smaller cousin from everyone who might hurt him, so he can have the chance to grow up big and strong like everyone else, and be the bestest chief ever!

Snotlout earns a reputation of biting any adult or child who comes within three feet of Hiccup. Not even Stoick is safe from this treatment. Snotlout bit and got into a five-year old child’s equivalent of a fistfight with a sheep that accidentally knocked Hiccup over. No one’s safe. He insists he is protecting the tribes future awesome and amazing chief.

The years pass on. Snotlout is still stubbornly protecting his cousin, but as they get older it’s different. He grows to learn that his cousin is just small, but Snotlout is adamant Hiccup will be a great chief. Because he has a witty tongue that leave adults flabbergasted, and is slippery when the other kids start picking on him, and Hiccup will have Snotlout, who will obviously grow to take his own fathers place as general, and so that means he can just protect Hiccup from all the bigger scary stuff like rival chiefs and dragons so Hiccup can be Chief without worry.

Hiccup does not get relentlessly bullied because his brawny, overprotective cousin throws hands at any slight insult to Hiccup. Hiccup learns how to talk down people from other tribes who aren’t so persuasive much earlier than he does in the show because some boy from another tribe gave him a funny look and his stupidly loyal cousin ran across the room to try and throw him into a table.

When Hiccup thinks he shot down a Night Fury, none of the kids say anything mean spirited about the chaos that followed, because Nsorlout had made a reputation. When they start dragon training, Snotlout and Hiccup get the lowest marks at first because Snotlout heard “Grab a shield” and decided to use himself as a shield for Hiccup, which his cousin does NOT like

It is not Astrid that gets taken out on a flight on the back of a Night Fury, but Snotlout, who wondered where his cousin was spending his free time, because Snotlout at least understands privacy and isn’t hovering over Hiccup 24/7, but also saw how pissed Astrid was at losing and came to find his cousin before she did so she wouldn’t try anything. It is Snotlout, clutching his cousin and screaming as a dragon tries to kill him on his back, because his cousin is his best friend and he has decided he doesn’t want to share. Snotlout is nervous later about the Monstrous Nightmare that his cousin leads to his open hand, but he trusts his cousin, and so touches the dragon.

Snotlout and Toothless do not get along at first, Snotlout protective of his cousin and Toothless protective of his best friend and neither of them wanting to share with the other. Hiccup walks around a corner to see the pair of them going at it with each other, because they couldn’t agree on who was going to follow Hiccup and make sure he was safe. The day Toothless and Snotlout finally start getting along is the day Hocvup realizes he will never know peace again, because there is a Night Fury and his stubborn cousin who’d fistfight Odin if he so much as looked at Hiccup wrong, and of course a Monstrous Nightmare, because Hookfang isn’t going anywhere without Snotlout, so he too is also following Hicvup and making sure he’s safe. Hiccup eventually reminds himself of the alternative and forces himself to live with his two and a half protective, self-appointed bodyguards.

Snotlout is stubborn and loyal and has a very hard time letting Hiccup defend himself in a physical manner at first, but learns to let Hiccup fight his own battles. So long as Snotlout and Hookfang are nearby in case someone fights dirty or cheats or Hiccup has a bad day and decides to let his cousin have at it. He doesn’t once think of trying to become Chief, and Spitelout doesn’t know what to do with a son that refuses to try and take leadership because he’s too darn determined to make sure his scrawny fishbone cousin grows to be Berks Chief. And he can’t complain about it because it’s kinda all his fault anyways.

[i3utterflyeffect]

What if one day, Alan came home early, insisted that Chosen would stay to dinner, and they have big family dinner together? And everything so surreal for Chosen, so when they come back home, Dark can't stop asking Cho why they look so stunned.

god yeah-- i don't think he'd insist on chosen staying personally but there's no way SC doesn't beg them to stay--

[beentobeetle]

Proud member of the “Boromir Deserved Better” club ✊😔

[triglycercule]

ok imagine nightmare sans. now imagine those minecraft villager trading halls where all the villagers are stuck in the little cell blocks to get ideal trades. now that but replace the villagers with the murder time trio and ideal trades with negativity. he's maxxing out the negativity output for every square foot i guess,,,,,,,

there's absolutely NO space for movement it's practically a little closet. only thing is like basic necessities like food and water distributed by a killer (because he wouldn't get attatched to any of them when there's so many,,,, perhaps a different cell warden for a killer only section to avoid a killer meeting another killer and then having to deal with the mindboggle they'd face and then UGH!!!) these little negativity farms cost so little effort to make!!! all nightmare has to do is keep as many (living) sanses (IN FACT NOT EVEN THE TRIO!! but also the trio since they're easy to break down) in as little space as possible and he's practically got like. + 100k negativity every hour with just 6 of these farms. how efficient!

what do you mean it violates the genevarsal convention. DREAM STOP CONDUCTING PRISON BREAKS

(a little birdie told me u wanted 2 be tagged,,, @qin-qin16)