#might rewrite it eventually

[lilacskyly]

Honored Ones: Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

(This might be bad idk :,> not that proud of it)

Throughout Heaven and the Earth, he  is the honored one. 

Then what does that make you?

“Oh goddess~ You aren’t hiding from me, are you?” you heard Satoru Gojo coo as his steps echoed throughout the abandoned building. You covered your mouth, trying your best to cover your shaky breath. “You can’t hide from me forever~ You know we’re bound… right goddess?” You heard him laugh and then a chain rattled. You froze, staring at your wrist to see the spirit bind chain that was shackled to your wrist. “Stop fighting me. You already know I can sense you… right?” he questioned. Tears fell out of your eyes just as Gojo teleported in front of you. “Found you~”

You jumped before he covered your mouth. He put a finger to his lips, “Sssshhh my dear…. Ssshh… I’m here… those special grade curses are gone… there’s no need to cry!” He smiled for you before planting a small kiss on your forehead. If you didn’t know better, he would’ve just been his normal self. But, after you saw him kill those curses and some of his fellow jujutsu sorcerers for ‘getting in the way’, you knew you couldn’t trust his smile.

“S-satoru…”

His smile only grew upon hearing his name come from your lips. God.. those perfect lips of yours. He was practically salivating.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts. “Yes my goddess?”

“W-where are the others?” you asked.

“The others? Oh… you mean the pests. They're gone now. They can't bother us now~” he whispered in your ear. “You cryin’? It's okay my goddess… you're safe now.” 

He took your hand in his and lifted you off the ground. Despite your fear of him, you hugged him and started crying even more. He engulfed you in a hug as well. “Never do that again.” he said, getting scarily serious for once.

“I-I won’t! I swear I won’t!” you cried. He knew better than to take your word for that.

He sighed, “Let’s go home goddess. You’ve had a long day..”

You couldn’t track how long it took you to get to his place. Time always seemed to mush together when you were with him. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Gojo locked the door behind you two when you entered his place. He collapsed on the sofa, pulling on the spirit bind chain to get you to come over. 

“Y’know goddess, I never imagined being this close to you…” he started. “After all, you’re barely a jujutsu sorcerer my dear… it’s a miracle we even met.”

“... y-yeah… I-I’m sorry, I’m really weak..” you said, looking down at his hands. 

He shook his head. “Stop lying to yourself. You may not be as strong as you want… but soon enough you will be.”

“H-how?”

“I’ve been hinting at a surprise haven’t I? I think it’s about time I finally reveal it.” he smiled softly at you.

You tilted your head, confusion spread across your face. “W-what do you mean?”

“You’re almost entirely mine, my precious goddess~ Did you figure out what I’ve been doing yet?” he asked innocently. 

Wait. He didn’t.. He fucking wouldn’t.

He smiled after seeing your expression. “You’ve figured it haven’t you? You’re so smart my goddess! I’ve been putting drops of my blood into your food I’ve prepared for you… and you know how your cursed technique works.. Right?”

Of course you did! You weren’t stupid.. Were you?

“Your cursed technique isn’t very practical… at least for you. You have to quite literally consume a part of a person to gain their strength. But but but! If you ingest too much, your life becomes officially theirs to control. It’s funny really.. You get stronger but you become less and less you the more you do so!”

“G-gojo… w-what..?”

“Look my goddess… I know someone as holy as you could never be mine… so, I’m taking fate into my own hands. We will be together now, forever. No matter what you do, you won’t be able to die as long as I’m alive. You can’t even escape me in death. We’re bound, remember goddess? You’ve sealed your fate the very moment you agreed to this.” He grabbed your wrist, showing the spirit bind you two established. You both had to ingest some of each other's blood to even establish it. You just wanted to be stronger… to be protected by someone…

You should’ve died to those curses in that building earlier.

Before you knew it, Gojo tore at his wrist till it bled heavily. He held it up for you to drink his blood. He chuckled as you looked at him in horror. “H-how… how long have you..”

“Oh, since we made the pact. I’ve had my sight on you for quite a while my dear.” he said nonchalantly. “Now, drink up. Haven’t got all night.”

You shook your head causing him to laugh loudly. “Seriously? You’re still being stubborn? You really don’t get it dear… you’re mine.” His blue eyes pierced your own, seeming to tear into your brain. “Now, drink.”

Your body moved without you as you downed his blood. The taste was repulsive, you hated doing this. Gojo however seemed to be enjoying it as he petted your hair muttering ‘good girl’ every now and again. He pushed you away after some time. “Now now dear, we don’t want to suck me completely dry, do we?” he teased.

“Mhm…” was all you managed to say.

“Y’know… the pact is fully made now, right? Ha! How funny! I can literally control you now!” he laughed lightly. “We can claim this world as ours… and ours alone. After all, we’re gods… together we are the honored one…”

He pulled on the now fully materialized chain around both your wrists and hummed cheerfully. 

“Let’s go have some fun, shall we?” 

[edwinisms]

wait yeah hold on how the hell did edwin open a door from hell to earth? like if powerful beings like the night nurse or certain demonic entities are necessary to open and close doors to other planes (especially hell where souls being trapped there is kind of the point) then what the fuck did edwin manage to pull off? did he somehow trick a demon or whatever into opening one? was one opened for one reason or another– maybe upon a demon’s return from retrieving a soul– and he timed it, booked it, and jumped in? there certainly isn’t just some constantly open ever-accessible door at the top of The Endless Staircase considering that would make hell kind of pointless. did edwin payne manage, somehow, over the span of 70 years, to figure out how to open a door from limbo/the staircase to earth by himself? am i just missing something here?

[rampagingfanfictioner14]

relativity falls, but... (Part 3)

And then we come to the crux of the matter. What happens next?

Well, Bill makes good on his promise and talks to Candy and Soos. He'd like to limit the number of people involved in this project, but he needs Soos's hands and Candy's brain to make this whole thing work, so he's just going to have to put up with it.

Candy excitedly accepts the proposal, not even thinking twice. Sure, Mason sounds a bit weird, but maybe he's just caught a cold or something. She's a curious person at heart, and a brilliant one too. After college, she'd moved away from Gravity Falls to somewhere in California, selling some junk like personal computers and whatnot. Still, at "Mason's" insistence, she drops everything and moves back to her hometown anyway, already thinking about all the discoveries they could make through such an ambitious project.

Soos... doesn't. He apologizes, but he's got family to take care of now, and he can't dedicate himself to the project like asked. Bill is angry by the refusal and almost starts shouting at him, but eventually settles on slamming the phone down and forcing himself to think that it's better this way anyway. That fat oaf wasn't good for much other than his strength. He'd make do somehow.

The main task was drafting the equations for the portal. The thinking. It required brains, not brawn.

The actual portal construction was a problem for later, he decides. This Candy better be as smart as Mason had made her sound.

...And yep, she definitely is. Her relationship with the anxiety-ridden Mason is... similar to Ford and Fiddleford, but not quite. Mason's adventurous, very much so --- but whenever she tags along he's quieter than usual, almost always worrying over something or the other, unable to focus (a side-effect of Mabel leaving; his anxiety roams unchecked and his social awkwardness is worse than ever without her to be his rock).

---Unless he sees something cool. Then he's bolting off towards it with that journal of his, and leaving Candy in the dust.

As they work, they form a close friendship. It's always been there since their college days, really, but... Candy likes Mason, for all his quirks. Maybe likes him a little too much.

But Mason is far too distracted by Bill. Maybe in some other time, if they'd done this a year or so ago, they could've been something more. It's too late now. He's not always even there. He tries to keep up with Candy, but his main concern is the portal, and besides, Mason doesn't like social interactions much anyway.

He scrawls his notes in his journals to keep records of his findings, and spends all of his free time either with Bill, drawing up equations, or with Candy, poring over paradigm theory and other complicated jargon. Sometimes he drifts off and unconsciously allows Bill to take over, waking up to fully completed drawings and a new couple of stacks of equations to check.

His obsession with that portal eventually gets quite tiring to deal with, honestly. It's like their college days all over again. The one thing that Candy doesn't appreciate is having to constantly nag at the man to eat or drink something. Did he not feel his body shutting down? At this rate, he was going to waste away.

It's a pretty nice life, though, ignoring Mason's occasional, inexplicable "personality switches" (she can't think of anything else that would make him act so strange and off-putting; she'd searched the whole house for any evidence of drugs but never found any. Either Mason's upped his hiding game, or he's gone and developed some mental illness, but she doesn't have enough evidence for that and she's not going to confront him while having no proof).

She doesn't understand in time. The time comes to test the portal, and everything goes wrong.

Brief summary, 'cuz I can't be bothered writing it all out:

Candy gets chucked through the portal (whether that be because of canon reasons or some other universe-specific one is up for grabs).

Mason manages to pull her back, but she's knocked completely off-kilter; shellshocked and terrified; stuttering, spewing gibberish, before abruptly running away from the house and quitting on the spot.

Mason's... confused. He realizes that he was being insensitive by demanding to know what she'd seen through the portal, but surely it wasn't anything too bad, right? Bill told him so. He reaches out to her after a few days of radio silence, but she brushes him off, almost seeming to have forgotten the whole thing entirely. This makes him kinda angry. Why was she being so dismissive when it was clear she'd something terrible? Why wouldn't she tell him? He goes to the only friend he has left, Bill, for answers.

Bill convinces Mason that Candy's just another betrayer, like Mabel, taking advantage of him. Still, Mason can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Bill tells him to focus on the portal. It was his only priority.

Final tweaks to the portal are made. Mason realizes that Candy's starting some sort of cult, having disregarded his advice to get rid of her memory gun, running around town and erasing the memories of everyone who'd seen something strange.

That does it. He knows something's wrong. Candy never acted like this. There was something terrible behind that portal and he needed to have a very serious chat with Bill.

And whatdya know, surprise surprise, Bill's a professional backstabber in disguise. Womp womp, Mason, his monsters are gonna invade your dimension, and it's all because of you! Because you trusted the wrong person... again.

Mason goes full panic-mode. Like Ford, but worse, because he's Mason, and when he gets paranoid, he gets paranoid. He locks the doors and buys like fifty different deadbolts. He locks the windows and the skylight and even the entrance to the roof, and spends his nights in the basement still, huddled up in the darkest, most hidden corner with only a lamp to keep him company. Every shadow makes him flinch, every sound as loud as a gunshot in the silence. Every time he accidentally drifts off he wakes with like a dozen serious injuries and angry, bloody scratches and scribbles on the walls from Bill's unsuccessful attempts to break into the retinal-scanner protected portal room.

Mason's not in a good place. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

---

My brainworms have taken a break for now so I'll have to sum up the next plot points:

Mabel receives a postcard from Mason, agonizes over it for a minute or so before promptly dropping everything and rushing to Gravity Falls.

Mason doesn't open the door, too paranoid to move from his spot in the basement. Using a secret code from their childhood, he'd encoded the instructions on how to get to him, hoping that Mabel would remember (and besides, the man's running on about ten shots of caffeine and hasn't slept in over a month; cut him some slack --- he's definitely not thinking clearly).

Thankfully, the universe aligns properly and Mabel does remember the code, hurrying down to the basement and instantly tripping an alarm, about three traps, and injures her wrist.

Mason's wild eyes meet hers. The estranged twins exchange a brief moment of absolute, utter shock: Mason not having expected Mabel to actually turn up, and Mabel not having expected her brother to look like a dead man walking.

Same stuff as canon basically happens: Mabel and Mason haven't learned to communicate well due to their less than ideal childhood, and both of them are tired, traumatized, and tactless with their words. A fight happens: although with a lot more hair-pulling, slapping, and shouting than punches.

Mason doesn't believe he's better than Mabel, so there's no talk about doing "the first worthwhile thing" in her life and whatnot. But still, there are some pretty damn hurtful words thrown about. Mabel gets branded by the symbol next to the control panel. Mason almost dies from sheer exhaustion.

It doesn't really matter, though. In the end, the results are the same. Mason is still thrown through the portal and his first journal still ends up in Mabel's hands, the constellation shimmering on the cover almost tauntingly; the only real thing she had left of her brother.

At first, she almost doesn't believe it. She waits for him to return, frozen, her shoulder burning as the brand sizzled on her skin. Then reality sinks in, and she's horrified. Had... Had she just killed her twin?

Then that famous determination sparks. Mabel vows to bring Mason back home, even if it's the last thing she does. Even if what's left is only a few specks of dust, even if he hates her for it. She's a terrible person, she knows, and Mason's got every right to despise her. But the thought of him asking her to just leave, like she couldn't care less about him... Well. Frankly, the mere idea pissed her off.

She stays at Mason's house, unwilling to leave until she finishes her mission. And over time, she begins to recollect more details that she'd missed in her blind anger. She remembers Mason's distraught face, the dark liquid (blood?) trailing down his right eye, his pale skin. Something terrible had happened to her brother, she thinks with a rough swallow, looking down at the crimson staining the bathroom, red constellations etched almost mockingly in the unkept place. Something absolutely terrible. Horrible. Unspeakable.

She knows she needs food to continue her mission. Restarting the house's water and electricity would be nice too. And someone needed to pay off the mortgage. So she does what she does best: puts on a show.

The Dream House (this universe's Mystery Shack) begins as a simple Sparkle Hut. Something nice, something pretty, something that would catch the eye of wandering tourists or townspeople. But mere glitter isn't enough. She starts flipping through her brother's journal and complies a mismatched assortment of various creatures, creating a sleepy, almost hypnotic atmosphere to the shack--- and what better name for it than the Dream House?

>>>And that's it, peeps. My version of relativity falls is over (at least, the backstory part). I've speedran this whole thing over an hour, so some details are still rough --- but tell me what you think! It's funny that this whole thing was sparked by a lil conversation between me and my friend.

In short, Mabel and Dipper are not perfect twins. I think people underestimate just how much their decisions and experiences and attitudes was shaped by their summer in Gravity Falls. Remember, Stan and Ford were thick as thieves until they became like, 15 or something. A lot can change after you enter high school, especially when you've got your parents arguing 24/7 and terrible communication skills. Mabel and Dipper are not going to hug and be nice to each other after thirty years apart --- thirty years to stew in anger and regret and pain and sadness. They're not going to be as close as they were as kids, and that's okay. Don't be afraid to give them flaws in this au. It's absolutely wonderful to explore :)

---Thank you for reading.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5(prev)

[whatudottu]

If I thought the Transformers (Aligned) timeline was convoluted, god the Trollhunters timeline is fucked beyond all hell, and worse of all because they use Merlin - bloody MERLIN - as a character that created the amulet there's an upper limit of time Trollhunters have existed before, heck even Myrddin Wyllt his welsh name (and canonical alternate name in the show), Merlin stops being the Merlin from human myth and starts becoming Merlin a similarly named folkloric character in troll myth-

I wonder if I, a fan coming in at minimum 2023, am arriving to this a little late but- if this isn't going to be a timeline rewrite then let me complain about how specific canonical details contradict with one another, including the glaringly obvious issue of Wizard's addition to the timeline, making Deya the Deliverer the first Trollhunter and thus practically erasing most of the historical Trollhunters or conforming to fit them all in a timeline of 900ish years.

I'll address the elephant in the room when we get to it, but let's set up the basics, both for me and any viewer not already in the know (given that my audience is mostly from transformers and ben 10, I'd say it's a lot of you).

Trolls and humans got off to a bad start, humans living on the surface and trolls having originated from a realm called the Darklands, accessible from a bridge (a gateway) Kilahead bridge. Like with any civilisation there are good and bad trolls, the baddest being Orlagk the Oppressor, leader of the Gumm-Gumms. Having been introduced to the surface, trolls fought with the humans who already lived on it creating the War for the Surface Lands, and their fighting lead the first Heartstone (a gigantic magical gem that serves as the centre of troll caverns, healing them and providing power) to corrupt and birth Gunmar. This war lasted for millennia, Gunmar taking over leadership of the Gumm-Gumms after slaying Orlagk at some vague point, up until the Battle of Kilahead Bridge where the Gumm-Gumms were sealed away in the Darklands again thanks to the Trollhunter Deya the Deliverer.

Okay, sure, that doesn't sound very bad at first, up until you realise that the Battle of Kilahead Bridge was 900 years prior to the series (2016 was it's release date) and thus in the year 1116 AD give or take; the legend of Merlin as a magician, a wizard, was in the 12th century which would've been instead at minimum 1300 AD that's 200 years of difference. Not to mention Angor Rot - a character and antagonist in the show - came begging for magic to stop Gunmar's armies from destroying more and more independant troll tribes, like his own, in 1200 AD at least. Why in the fucking hell would Angor Rot bother to risk his own soul asking for magic, from a sorcerer known as (among many things) the Eldritch Queen, if Gunmar and his Gumm-Gumms were already kept within the Darklands. Gunmar's son Bular, the one Gumm-Gumm to not be banished, is surely not that much of a threat to not one but multiple villages it would send someone to the doorstep of the Pale Lady. In addition, Angor Rot was responsible for killing at least a few Trollhunters, one known and named being Voltar the Voracious, who was the only Trollhunter given an exact year of choosing in 1578. And the fucker is listed BEFORE Deya on the wiki but that alone doesn't mean anything, however she does die in 1620 to Bular, 396 years before the show.

Alright then, so you look at Merlin's mythological existence and go 'now what about the whole thing about millenia' because 12th century doesn't allow the War for the Surface Lands to have a Trollhunter, even with 11 named Trollhunters that come presumably before Deya (Unkar the Unfortunate, despite being trained by Blinky who in human standards - assuming his human body tells us his age - is probably about middle age give or take, fought in the time Gumm-Gumms were still around even if slain by Bular). Given that Trollhunters itself references Merlin's original Welsh name Myrddin (and his in show last name is Ambrosius, which would be Emyrs in the original Welsh, as opposed to Wyllt for 'of the wild), I thought that potentially looking into when Myrddin first came around I would be able to get a better timeline; Myrddin Wyllt was said to have been born - and not just the legend - in 540 AD, which gives between that and 2016 1476 years to work with, allowing the 400ish years ago that Deya died (and the 438 years from when Voltar had the amulet) and the millenia's worth of war the War for the Surface Lands took.

Done deal, right?

Well guess what, some fucker named Spar the Spiteful (not even the first Trollhunter like Deya so proclaims to be) died 5200 years before Jim, our protagonist and first HUMAN Trollhunter, ever picked up the mantle. 5200 years before 2016 is the bloody fucking 4th millenium BC. This period included the beginnings of the Bronze Age, and was the bloody time WRITING was invented! And in Spar's time, there was no DOMESTIC HORSES! HORSE RIDING DIDN'T BLOODY EXIST WHEN SPAR DIED HOW FUCKED IT THAT!?

God FUCKING DAMN IT!

Fine, I can work with this.

Merlin in the show is all the old man we think of him as in myth, but he's also still old when we go back in time to when the Battle of Kilahead Bridge takes place, albeit it without a full head of grey hairs (how does the old man age more than his teen/young adult apprentice) potentially as a young sorcerer/wizard/whatever they use these terms interchangeably, Merlin or Myrddin created the Amulet of Daylight. You could even give more wriggle room between whenever trolls came to the surface and when Merlin made the amulet, because although Orlagk was a figure explicitly older than Gunmar, there is no mention of an amulet without Gunmar simply a time when he was still not a leader. In fact, given that Merlin's original name - Myrddin - came from a riddle designed with the intent to kill Gunmar, a piece informing the Trollhunter teams how to kill Gunmar rather than Orlagk the original leader, perhaps it's befitting to make Myrddin technically younger than the trolls; given that the original purpose of the Amulet of Daylight was not to kill Gunmar but to protect trolls, seeing as how one of the keys to Gunmar's destruction is a Triumbric Stone (one of 3) that resulted in the death of Orlagk, the amulet can date to before Gunmar and have been made after the Gumm-Gumms took out their rage on other trolls instead of humans alone.

The Trollhunter after Spar the Spiteful was Boraz the Bold, named that specifically for taking on 1000 Gumm-Gumms, was killed by Bular who was - as I said - Gunmar's son. While that does not mean that Spar the previous Trollhunter existed before Bular did, it does mean that by the time Boraz was selected after Spar's position Bular was competent enough to slay a Trollhunter, especially one as 'Bold' as Boraz who felled a thousand Gumm-Gumms before falling to 1001. It would mean that his father Gunmar would be much older, potentially tracking further and further back in time and putting Orlagk's death deeper and deeper into the War for the Surface Lands, potentially even aligned Orlagk's death and the Triumbric Stone's creation to a period humans heard of Myrddin, the death of Orlagk potentially landing in 540 AD, perhaps even in 573 AD where an actual battle took place, the Battle of Arfderydd; this details a Riderch Hael, King of Alt Clut (Stratclyde, a Brittonic kingdom in northern... well... Britain, which got annexed in the 11th century AKA 1000 AD to become part of the emerging Kingdom of Scotland) slaughtering the forces of a Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio, Myrddin having gone mad watching that defeat.

The remaining named Trollhunters, ones that weren't explicitly dated and timed, are in a bullshit order on the Wiki that I just have to piece together what is being said to put together a timeline.

Maddrux the Many, he/him in the show and she/her in the comics, was canonically an active Trollhunter before another, Araknak the Agile, was either born or an actual functioning adult; Araknak is the ancestor of the previously mentioned (and assumed to be) middle aged Blinkous Galadrigal and his brother (an older brother or twin depending on who you quote) Dictatious Maximus Galadrigal, the pair being present for the Battle of Kilahead Bridge and still alive by 2016 and idk about Tatious but Blinky appears in 2017 or at least whenever RoTT takes place. To use the term ancestor instead of grandparent or even parent, which technically ancestor can be used on either anyway, means that the exact family history is undetermined. However, we can place Maddrux at the very least on the timeline where Orlagk was still active in, seeing as that was her major enemy in the comics.

At the end of her service instead of going directly to Araknak, a Trollhunter preceded him in Magmar the Molten, the only known mountain troll to be a wielder of Daylight. Interesting to note, Araknak learnt from Magmar a certain combat move so, even before his selection by the amulet Araknak was already preferring the lifestyle of a warrior in comparison to his scholar parents; a trait that outlasted the warrior spirit and descended to the Galadrigals however many years later. Mentioned specifically as preceding not only Araknak but Tellad-Urr, we have another date to place as Tellad-Urr the Triumphant - very soon to be Tellad-Urr the Terrible - was active until 501 CE where Orlagk was still alive; how convientient. It helps that Gogun the Gentle - his immediate successor - would be the only Trollhunter to die of old age, potentially because Gunmar was too busy killing Orlagk and Orlagk too busy being dead for either of them to do anything.

Hopefully Gogun was already an old fart because the oldest recorded troll Chokeenamaga lived to 5352 years and I have no idea if that's slightly above average, notably old, or specific to a troll type (like for example, mountain trolls may have the longest average lifespan of all trollkin), and it's not like I can look at the show for any reference because Draal the Deadly, son of Kanjigar the Couragous and the previous Trollhunter did not age between 900 years yet there are no troll whelps in modern Trollmarket, let alone the fact that the Battle of Kilahead Bridge according to our established Trollhunters could not have happened before 1578 but must have happened between then and 1620. And Draal is an adult in modern day but is rather impulsive and I do not know if that is simply a troll trait or the trait of a twenty something year old that should've had a different design in the past but couldn't because of the limitations of 3D show animation (Prime fans would know or at least see visually that you can't just design a cybertronian version of a bot's root mode without things getting expensive, it's why Skyquake couldn't fly despite looking the same before and after alt mode acquisition).

Speaking of age, this is also the time where Aaarrrgghh!!! was a teenager, which either means that Blinky is actually much younger than Aaarrrgghh!!! or there is another Trollhunter or few between Araknak the Agile and Tellad-Urr the Terrible; 5200 years is a lot of grounds to cover, especially with a Trollhunter dying of age between it. Tellad-Urr has an appearance similar to Kanjigar, and given that it's a book cover rather than a 3D model there may be grounds for him being of the same tribe as Kanjigar if not an ancestor like Araknak to Blinky. It could work give or take, especially since 'ancestor' is less of an official word and more of a footnote for someone's opinion, but it isn't word of god nor anything found in any media.

And keeping with age (last one I promise) Gorgus the Gorgeous, referenced in terms used by modern trolls 'By Gorgus' or 'Great Gorgus', was one of the youngest Trollhunters to be chosen. Whether he was younger than Jim Lake Jr, 16 years old at his time of getting the amulet, depends on what the hell the age of 24 fucking means to a troll. Is it the equivalent of 24 years in troll years? If so then why the hell does he begin training 32 troll years later at age 56 if he wasn't chosen to have the amulet at 24 human years old. What is 24 human years to a troll. NotEnrique, a changeling (troll whelp cursed to change into a human, can do so at will) is canonically a few centuries old, and he is fresh from the Darklands after replacing a human baby Enrique. He at a few centuries old is able to throw and host a troll party at his age, and maybe changeling's age differently and a changeling hosting a troll party would be very new because haha discrimination, but no troll flinches at the concept. And a few centuries could be considered more than 2 (being a few it's already more than 1) so the more centuries you tack on to this college type frat party host the more and more Gorgus' age becomes terrifyingly young like exorbitantly so.

If a few centuries means 'ability to host a party where full grown trolls do keg stands' then 24 probably means whelp, baby, a fucking toddler by troll standards, assuming changelings follow troll aging standards against their human mimicking physical development standards. If a 24 year old Trollhunter is only ONE OF the youngest Trollhunters, who was the youngest? Predestined at bloody birth!? Gorgus started training at age 56, presumably when he was old enough to wield a sword, being trained by none other than Kanjigar himself; Gorgus died during training when a group of Gumm-Gumms attacked, an arrow hitting him in the head. If NotEnrique was an adult, or at the very least on the cusp of it, at a few centuries old - more than 1, probably more than 2 - then what of someone at age 56, less than a few centuries, less than one. Whether Kanjigar was a father at the time or not, loosing a kid under his guidance - to death no less - would've stuck with anyone. Why was this child sentenced to death, and so young too. One can argue all the Trollhunters to failed to live up to legacy, who became their own version of Unkar the Unfortunate, were sentenced to death and fated to die young. Gogun may have defied fate and beat the ticking clock, but Gorgus the Gorgeous - a gorgeous child, a son to parents that will never see their little boy again - proved that there is no outrunning the clock for the bells toll for thee.

If Unkar was before Gorgus, then it is to be presumed that by dying on his first night - after 6 hours of training - that Gorgus the Gorgeous was failed by Blinkous in the same way Unkar had been. The next Trollhunter in line was summoned too soon, so because of Blinky's failure the trolls against Gumm-Gumms were without a defender, potentially reducing the remaining candidates for better trainers by slaughtering them before the Trollhunter was of age. If Unkar was after Gorgus, then Kanjigar needed to step away from training, even as it was his task given to the aging elder Rundle, potentially a younger but very busy Vendel, an elder by proxy of everyone else dying on the edges of Gumm-Gumm blades. He couldn't sacrifice another child to death, and as the amulet falls onto the arrogant overconfident Unkar, Kanjigar could not bare to have stone dust on his hands again. Blinkous Galadrigal (there is no mention of Dictatious despite the presence of Gumm-Gumms in Unkar's time) is tasked to train Unkar, to teach him the tennants of Trollhunter and put to good use his scholarly teachings and pray that the soul of his Trollhunter ancestor guides him. Unfortunately - as Unkar will be enshrined in by title - you cannot let a scholar do a warrior's duty.

However way it plays out, Blinky was young (or at least younger), and his failure marked his reputation for centuries.

There is a Grimbald the Grave, trained with Kanjigar AND Deya, which would definitely place that before 1620 and potentially before 1578; Voltar wasn't mentioned to have been trained by either, but given that he was the last Trollhunter before Deya (at the very least in close proximity), Grimbald most likely came before. Now this seems like a non-issue, if you consider Grimbald against our timeline nothing seems to be wrong, potentially Kanjigar's age since he's been around for a while but his son's an adult in the modern day so he could potentially be older than Blinky who knows. But I have an elephant to address and since it's been so long since I brought it up it's been drinking tea this whole time.

Wizards, the third installment of the Tales of Arcadia series, sequel to Trollhunters, introduces to audiences that Deya the Deliverer was originally Callista the Calamity, a troll who's tribe had been wiped out by humans and had been living in human custody since she was a whelp (or of an age that she had forgotten her name). Deya makes the timeline such a mess, because her first appearance in the comics, she was of an age where Rundle - Vendel's father - was the elder of Glastonbury Tor Trollmarket at the time of Deya, the Trollmarket before Dwoza which is the Trollmarket before Arcadia. Rundle was around in 501 AD, but it was his father Kilfred who was the elder and his son Vendel was of age enough to help in consulting, however old that is. In Wizards however, Vendel was the elder of Dwoza before Deya was Deya and when Callista was still an outcast, and even then he was only the elder by proxy, signs of his father Rundle or of Kilfred missing. Of course however Rundle could have been elder of Dwoza, as his father before him was elder of Glastonbury Tor, simply that he was potentially slain potentially died of old age and that Vendel being one of the few older than most of the Dwozan trolls took over in his father's stead.

The issue with Deya is that I really like the Callista part of her backstory, of being an outsider, an outcast, in the world of trolls that still hated humanity but held a deeper fear of the Gumm-Gumms. Diaspora for trolls, Callista the Calamity is seen as a human pet despite her wanting to find her way home, a home she can never go back to because it had been destroyed long ago; the one place that she could be accepted don't because they see her as too human, a far cry to being called a monster by humans but certainly not relieving. But she had become Deya, and found her footing as the Deliverer, by turning the Trollhunter from a single force to fighting alone to rallying a bunch of... gravellors? (Whatever, I like to think of Dwoza as essentially a refugee tribe given it's diversity in comparison to the Krubera tribe who are only krubera and the Quagawump tribe who are only - save for the generic troll king Angor killed - quagawumps) to fight one last fight against the Gumm-Gumms and ending the War for the Surface Lands.

...SO... that probably means that Grimbald was trained exclusively by Kanjigar after the whole Unkar and/or Gorgus ordeal and eventually got the Trollhunter's amulet himself when Deya was slain, her sacrifice delivering the migrating trolls of Dwoza a chance to get to the New World (or the Americas). Oh and their migration was after Vendel and some king wrote a truce called 'The Pact', which - I mean - it's described as a feeble truce and with a name like that I don't blame it, where they promise to stop eating humans and limited their diet to cats and used clothes which well- they might've broke on the journey to the New World because hiding in the cramped ballast of a 1600s era boat isn't fun nor is it fast. But regardless-

I think for a sense of cohesion, let me pull out an almost timeline for this post.

Trolls who had previously been in the Darklands somehow get to the surface

Tensions between trolls and the already present humans grows beginning the War for the Surface Lands

The intensity of the war corrupts the first Heartstone, giving birth to Gunmar

A young wizard Myrddin creates the Amulet of Daylight and gifts it to the good trolls

Spar the Spiteful gets the amulet. He dies 5200 years ago

Boraz the Bold gets the amulet. He dies to Bular, Gunmar's son.

Maddrux the Many gets the amulet

Magmar the Molten, the first mountain troll Trollhunter, gets the amulet

Araknak the Agile, ancestor to Blinkous and Dictatious Galadrigal, gets the amulet

Tellad-Urr the Triumphant, turned Tellad-Urr the Terrible, gets the amulet. He is killed in 501 AD

Gogun the Gentle gets the amulet.

Orlagk the Oppressor is slain by Gunmar. Gunmar loses an eye

Gogun dies of old age.

Angor Rot makes a pact with the Pale Lady, trading his soul for her magic

Unkar the Unfortunate gets the amulet. He dies 6 hours later

Gorgus the Gorgeous, one of the youngest Trollhunters, gets the amulet. He dies at age 56

Grimbald gets the amulet

Voltar the Voracious, born of two minds, gets the amulet in 1578. He dies to Angor Rot and his soul is stolen

Deya the Deliverer, previously Callista the Calamity, gets the amulet

The Battle of Kilahead Bridge is fought. Gunmar is defeated and the Gumm-Gumms (+ Dictatious Galadrigal) are trapped in the Darklands

Deya dies against Bular, last remaining Gumm-Gumm on the surface, in 1620

Kanjigar the Couragous, trainer of many Trollhunters, gets the amulet. He dies to Bular in 2016

James Lake Junior gets the amulet, and the events of the series take place

So, members of the Trollhunter fandom, how'd I do? If you stuck around this long, welcome to my gimmick, long posts :)

Hoo boy how should I tag this?

[amberdoesthings73]

recently watched hazbin hotel. here's vaggie getting her wings torn off tux paint fanart

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day eight

@ailesswhumptober 8 — rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.” ↳ the refuge word count; 1.1k

cw; grooming, manipulation

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Morris hadn't meant to freak out.

Truly, he never does — it just happens. Always has, ever since he was tiny, whenever he's feeling too much.

And he's been feeling on edge for days.

Oscar has been ignoring him completely ever since getting back from solitary a few days ago, not talking to him or even looking at him, so Morris has been alone. He doesn't deal well with being alone. He's not supposed to be on his own. He can't sleep when he's alone, so he's tired, and he hasn't eaten because Oscar hasn't been making him, and his throat hurts from all his talking.

He'd been attempting to rectify the loneliness.

He'd talked and talked the first couple of days, desperately rambling and chattering and babbling to try and get something out of Oscar, engage him in conversation or annoy him into anger or anything, but none of it had worked — until finally the words had seemed to dry up in Morris' throat after endless attempts with no results, and he could no longer speak at all, no matter how desperately he wanted to. He'd been helpless, utterly silent then.

Silent, at least, until one of the other boys had tried to strike — trying to take advantage of Morris being devoid, for once, of his older brother's protection.

Morris can't remember much of it. The details. But he remembers being grabbed by his hair and dragged to the floor, pinned. He remembers being called awful things, things Da used to call him, and hit and slammed down and and strangled.

He remembers turning and going at the boy like a dog the first moment his hold had slipped.

He remembers hitting him, over and over, again and again, as hard as he possibly could. He knows he'd been screaming — he'd kept screaming, unable to stop, even as two guards came in and wrenched him from the boy, tossed him aside like a sack of grain. But Morris had started on himself then, hitting and scraping as deep as his worn-down nails could get into his skin, still shouting and screaming. He'd slammed his head into the leg of the nearest bunk, then the floor, again and again until the guards had managed to get ahold of him again and restrain him.

They'd dragged him off then, legs being scraped bloody along the filthy ground, and when he'd started to wail again, a swift hit had knocked him unconcious.

He doesn't know where he is now, but it's quiet.

There's a gag in his mouth.

It's soft, Morris thinks. Cotton, maybe, and it smells like Snyder's clothes do — rich and clean, like it's been freshly washed, though it's tied no less tightly at the back of his skull than any other gag has ever been. He tries to move, tries to reach hazily for the knot to see if he can work it loose, and finds his hands won't go where he wants them to. Won't move at all.

They're behind him, he realises. Another hazy pull triggers another scrape of something around his wrists, so he pulls again, and again, wrists beginning to burn —

"Morris," Snyder tuts. "You should know by now that you're only wasting your energy when you fuss like this. And you're wearing your poor skin away. You'll have yet more scars."

He's close, Morris realises. Somewhere behind him. He flinches when a hand touches him suddenly — an instinctive reaction, trained. But Snyder's touch is gentle. An uncalloused hand clasping carefully around one bony wrist, a thumb tracing the warmed skin where his bindings end.

It's rope, he realises. Thick, awful rope. Snyder makes a sympathetic noise.

"It is a pity," he soothes. "But you were causing yourself needless injury — and we can't have that, can we?"

Morris hears him stand, and then a few, rhythmic clicks of his immaculate leather shoes as he walks slowly around to Morris' front. Snyder's eyes are dark, looking down on him with something indescribable in his face.

"And you're so much prettier this way."

It's a whisper, like something private. Something he perhaps wasn't meant to hear.

Morris doesn't…feel especially pretty. Not right now.

His skin feels raw all over. He hurts, not at all helped by how he'd scratched and scraped at himself just earlier. His head is pounding from him hitting it — or maybe it's from that hit that had knocked him out. He tries to speak, though he has no idea what there is he could say, but all he manages is a muffled, garbled noise behind the gag, all too aware of how drool is pooling in his mouth.

The very corner of Snyder's lip twitches.

He reaches out with the back of his hand, like Morris is a dog to be tamed, and traces his knuckles softly along the side of his bruised cheek. Then dares to turn his hand, cradle Morris' jaw just beneath where the gag runs across the softness above it.

"You are quieter than your brother. None of his mouthiness." It's praise, from a line of thought Morris hasn't been a part of, though he soaks it up regardless. "But the awful wailing, the screaming. We'll have to curb that. And then..."

Then what?

Snyder must see the question in Morris' face, because his lip twitches again.

He doesn't say anything more.

Morris spends that night in solitary, but Snyder comes and fetches him first thing, and Morris spends the morning sat in Snyder's office. He perches on a chair with his wrists still bound behind him, gag still in place to keep him silent, and he simply watches as Snyder eats his breakfast, reads the morning paper, looks over some paperwork.

Snyder looks pleased when he's finished and Morris has been sat still and obedient the entire time. The look makes Morris' chest bloom with pride, and something else he doesn't recognise as Snyder approaches. He leans down and gently unties Morris' wrists with effortless experience, soothes his thumbs over the reddened burns that remain when the ropes are gone.

And, for the first time in his life, Morris has his minor injuries tended to with expensive medicine and proper care. Herbal-smelling salve rubbed into his wrists by gentle hands, and a clean towel soaked with cool water held to his bruised cheek.

When he returns to the bunk room, it's with a stomach full of fresh, buttered toast, and a clean face, bandaged wrists. And Oscar talks to him immediately. Drags him close and demands to know what happened, what Snyder did, if Morris is okay.

Morris tells him, but not everything. Too betrayed by his brother to let slip the promises Snyder had made, about more rewards if Morris is good. The quiet remark that there's something special in him, something Snyder wants to cultivate.

For the first time, Morris keeps something to himself.

[choco-bloop]

Consider: HcVH X Persona 4

Etho's a transfer from the city to the peaceful country side, staying with his old friends Beef, Doc and Bdubs. But when he enters the town, strange murders begin to occur, all while a new mysterious "Midnight Channel" becomes the talk of the town. (not to mention this guy called Igor also introducing himself in his dreams) Aside from his old friends, he makes friends with 3 of his classmate (Iskall, False and Stress), which marks the start of a year long investigation into the mysterious world of the TV and the truth behind the murders.

And maybe a lot more truths will be spilled about the people around them than any of them realise.

The current join order I have is: Etho, Iskall, False, Stress, Joe, Xisuma, Hypno, Xb, Wels. I might change it in the future but for now I think this is all good.

but ofc there's still a lot of other details i need to sort out (social links, everyone's arcana, who are the remaining social links, base-upgrade-final personas, shadow form designs + boss forms...) yeah it'll be a while haha

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

can i ask for a quick rundown of your mcd and/or mystreet rewrite? i’m a new follower and a tiny bit lost 😭

Ah, Ofc!! this will be a long post, because you said 'quick' and i just heard 'explain everything'. just because I don't know HOW to summarise everything, so I just explain what I can... which is too much.

each section will have a TL;DR if it's long, though.

So, the only rewrite I’ve actually, like, done so far is Amaranth (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31310384)

It’s an MCD rewrite, the first one I did, and it’s not **technically** related to my overall rewrite universe, though I’m not going to totally discredit it. It’s where I got a lot of my ideas, and it was sort of a first draft for me. It’s very similar to MCD, just with events changed to how I would have written them myself. Major change is that the Zane/aphmau engagement actually goes somewhere. My favourite change was the Pikoro arc tho for some reason bc it was just my first significant deviation from the original plot.

Now… cannibalism and cult stuff, yeah?

(Don’t read past this point if you are uncomfortable with discussions of human-on-human meat/organ consumption)

Lycoris Radiata (https://archiveofourown.org/works/50710504) is the only part of this current era of rewrite!Aphverse that has any content so far.

TL;DR for this section: i mostly just emphasised themes present in canon, there's cannibalism for magical reasons, Shad is more relevant early on, and there's a reason why characters look like that when i draw them, i promise. Also, cult stuff!

LR is an MCD rewrite, which has some lore changes. It begins with Avra (Aphmau) travelling with Visher, Garroth being angsty, and so on. Only the prologue and first chapter are currently posted, and you don't need to read Amaranth to begin it (though it will follow similar storylines later on). Basically, the main premise is that it’s kind of a criticism of imperialism, organised religion, and so on. Those are themes already present in original MCD, and so I… expanded. Blood Magic is the main magic focused on as well. It's the kind that Avra uses, and it's the kind that makes SKs function. Avra has to consume blood and meat (typically organ meat, preferably human) in order to have any amount of magic, and depending on what creature the meat comes from, also grants her some fun little magical extras. She also has a strong association with Judgement(Shad) in my rewrite, and there is a reason I draw them so often together. Most character changes you'll see have some lore-based backing for it. Characters who are made darker-skinned, or have had their haircolour changed, it's typically due to them belonging to a particular ethnic group that i made for Ru'Aun or Tu'La, which does impact their characters in the way that they obviously grew up under certain cultures. Sometimes it'll just be because I think it looks cool, or for visual/thematic parallels with another character. If you're ever curious as to knowing why i have certain characters looking the way I do, then just ask. Oh, also, people aren't just loyal to Avra because she's nice. there's like an actual cult thing that begins happening and to say there's some weird shit with that would be... underselling it.

A Royal Tale, and Mermaid Tales both fall into the timeline between LR and the MyS rewrite. they're quite insignificant series, but i decided to devote myself to being a completionist.

My plans for them aren't really set in stone yet, but I know i want to expand upon them and their lore a lot more, and they will eventually both fall into the, uh, cannibalism and murder theme of the rest of the rewrites. they'll likely be little side projects. I have trauma from ART tho. Show makes me *uncomfy*

Mystreet.... yayyyy...

No official name for the rewrite yet, I'm working on it.

TL;DR: If you let an edgy teenager write MyS but they also watched desperate housewives so they write some sitcom episodes on the side. Also, Avra needs that gross-tasting nailpolish that stops you from chewing on your nails... but like... all over her body.

Basically, MyS except they've always been reincarnations of their MCD (or LR, in this case) selves, with some residual trauma and habits because of that. I'm going to lean more into the darker seasons, even though Ik popular opinion is that the light-hearted ones were the best, and I'll just focus more on lore and stuff. PDH has a 17 year old Avra joining PDH, after being homeschooled for a while due to having some mental health issues. I'm going to go a little more 'general highschool drama' vibes, might have some mystery shit idk. Will be less cringe than canon, because yes, i'm cringe and i'm free, but even i have limits. The more lighthearted seasons might just be amalgamed into one big 'sitcom style' fic, which will be set before S4 and such, but i'll probably make lighthearted chapters between the serious ones. S4, Aphmau's Year, S5, S6 and Her Wish will be my main priority, and will go into the whole murder and cannibalism theme of LR. It'll already have been kind of expanded upon, because MyS!Avra has a bit of a habit of auto-cannibalism (eating the skin around her nails/on her fingers, on the inside of her cheeks and on her lips) which eventually just... goes a little crazy. There is gonna be cult stuff in MyS too, it just might present differently to how it does in LR. Or maybe similarly. Idk, depends on how you view it.

[a-shadowedvales]

when jane's powers return in season four (and because they were regained by her confronting and accepting her past, rather than being retraumatised with it!) they're stronger than they ever were. when she starts getting a handle back on them, she very quickly comes to realise not only have they affected her, but her mother, too. one of the biggest losses that came about with her losing them was the fact that she could no longer visit terry in the void; while there was no real communication there, it did allow jane to sit with her, and gain a little more connection than she could in the real world. when she first visits the void after their return, it takes her three hours to find terry, something that is both unexpected and incredibly worrying. but when she does, it's something of a miracle. jane's increased strength and control over the void actually wakes terry up from her catatonic state, but only in the void. there's no way to help her mother physically, but she does do so (unbeknownst to her) mentally. terry is reborn in jane's newfound control over the vale of shadows; she becomes the woman she once was, and while her body remains frozen in a "good dream", her mind connected to jane's own allows her some freedom. jane is able to speak to her mother in the void, is able to be held by her, and while it's still unfair and jane cannot stay in there forever, it's something. this only lasts for about eight months, as each visit slowly begins deteriorating terry's physical and mental state, and jane's health begins declining after spending hours upon hours in the void each and every day.

when jane finds out these visits are actually killing her mother on the outside, she deems to stop, but terry expresses the importance of them being able to speak, that she'd prefer to die on the outside, if it meant she could have just a few months with her daughter like this. terry and jane's connection was always so strong, which ultimately led to terry "waking up" in the void, but even jane's newfound strength cannot save her from the harsh realities. each visit nearing the end of those eight months, terry fades more and more, becomes weaker in the void, and her real body eventually gives up. jane's in the void when her mother eventually passes on, and physically feels their connection weaken, like some part of her suddenly becomes lost in the shadows, a part she'll never find again. jane falls into a depressive state for weeks after her mother's death, given she's technically lost her a second time, but soon comes to realise she was lucky to have even shared those eight months together. it was better than nothing at all. there is a proper burial and funeral, (and when jane dies, she's buried next to her mother) which allows jane some sense of closure. she never fully recovers from losing terry, nor from the fact that she never had a proper relationship with her, but she does eventually find some peace with it all.

[amphiptere-art]

A history of dragons, their culture in the locked door.

What the hell is the locked door?

Dragon culture has changed alongside it's history. So there are many versions of dragon culture and how it has changed. There are also many magical and physical abilities that dragons possess. Alongside species and elemental prowess. In order to smooth the reading process, and also to allow young users to understand.

Hey!

I will first talk about the The culture of the time, and the history that took place at that time. If there are any species related or magic related exclamations to understand that current culture. I will leave a recommendation for a book that should lead to that explanation.

The beginning times.

When dragons first appeared on this planet like many other creatures we were no more than animals. Simply fighting for a will to survive. The Artist decided to give us minds, so we would no longer fight our companions and be lost. Soon the draconic people begin to grow. Taking on many shapes and sizes. We were limitless in design and magic. The artist had yet to place strict guidelines.

That is until the great God Tick Tock, known more formerly nowadays as Clockwork, came upon The locked door. At first he was a wild dragon like the rest of us. But the artist gave him purpose. He was a living tool for a human adventure. But like many dragons he outlived the human story. Soon he was left alone without any story to progress with.

He had a different name? Tick Tock sounds so silly.

He saw our wild kin, and decided he wanted us to feel the tragic pains and the great victories of a story. So he called out to the creator that gave him purpose. The artist answered. He sacrificed his physical representation on this land to become her pencil. The one that creates all and strives to give everyone their story.

I've heard this kid's tail a thousand times. But this one makes a sound like we are nothing but characters in a storybook. It's weird.

Although he was underneath the Artist's hand, He was able to give his people the wishful mind and purpose that he wished. Any creature that had been given intelligence by the artist was crafted further by Clockworks pencil. Each and every one of them making cultures, stories, histories, and all matters of other things. The locked door was no longer a world of mindless illustrations. Instead it was a world full of wonder and people.

While Clockwork worked hard to maintain all the creatures' new purpose. He made sure his dragon brethren for his focus. They quickly developed into a complex culture. Dragon's designs were no longer mindless. They became focused and split into species. Magic was no longer a wild feat, but the elemental gods rose up and made them defined. Each dragon gained complete control over three elements. And all were blessed with the heated breath.

Why is a myth inside of a history book?

The first dragon culture.

It is here when many dragons started to finally write their own histories. And no longer must we deal with the cryptic words of myth and legend. Although any would be smart enough to realize it is real.

I'm supposed to believe that convoluted story of creation is real? Ha!

But now we can get onto concrete information More well known to the masses. Although if you are not an historian, I suppose this might be a mysterious time. It might have even developed into myth and been lost.

We'll see.

The first dragon cultures split themselves into elemental tribes. Dragons almost remotely lived on their main continent of draconia. With few venturing out to other lands.

As there are many elements I will leave a recommendation to read the elements and magic guide. As there were many more tribes than I am going to mention specifically.

Although let it be noted that all the tribes had tough relationships with each other. The only thing that stopped the tribes from ripping each other apart, was the tribe leaders and the monthly meetings.

Do I really have to read more books?

The tribe leaders were honestly over their heads. There are many dragons to each species and to each elemental class. Meaning that while they represented their people, They often only represented the people in their direct cities. Each tribe leader was blessed with the ability to never age. Not unless they gave up their throne or died in battle. They were immune to almost any disease, and of course they could not die to age. It was often a tribe leader would finally step down when their children outnumbered them to the point that they could not find mates.

While the dragons were not split by species. There was often a specific precedence between different elements. Many elements were expected to be paired up with a certain dragon species.

If you wish to learn about the different dragon species. Go read the book: dragon species and abilities.

Elements separated the dragons highly. While dragons themselves were allowed access to three elemental powers. These elemental powers were somewhat restricted in access. The first element is what usually defines the dragon's physical appearance and hot breath. With the other two magical feats being something that could be learned easier with time.

Due to the heavy separation between elements. There was a heavy prejudice between species. Fire dragons were wrongly called easy to anger. Water dragons were considered softer than they were. Rock dragons are always considered stubborn. But the biggest of these prejudices, The one that sparked a line of change. Was the prejudice that light dragons were good, and shadow dragons were bad.

Sounds sucky.

The Shadow wars.

Tensions were always high, but when an old light dragon King stepped down and was replaced with his son. Many things went wrong. The son had a heavy hatred of Shadow Dragons. Considering them evil and vile. It is not recorded why he hated them so much. Although some people believe it was simply a prejudice that went too far. The light dragon king convinced the other tribes that shadow dragons should not be allowed on their lands.

Despite protests from the Shadow Dragons. Not mentioning the fact that they had done nothing wrong. All the dragon leaders banded together to outcast their species. Driving them across the ocean and into the desolate Isle of the shadowlands. It was a cold place. There was barely any resources or sustenance to support them. Shadow dragons became desperate. And due to desperate actions, They soon became what the other dragons believed they feared.

Dude I have a shadow dragon friend and he is the nicest person ever. What were these guys thinking?

This terrible decision became a spiraling effect. While it might have casted dragon culture into a golden age, It was a nasty time. The old Shadow dragon King eventually died. There are many rumors that the Shadow dragon King's son killed them for the throne. As the new Shadow Dragons King. Going by the name Shadon, took his place upon the throne.

Shadon!? That evil sucker is real!?

Shadon was angered by their mistreatment. And while his anger was fair, He took it too far. Shadon wished to claim their territory back on the continent draconia. Leading his people on a war crusade. It just said the first night they invaded the sky was black. There was no sun for 3 days. The only thing that could be heard was the terrified screams of the dragons as the Shadow Dragons took back their place on the continent.

That really happened? I thought it was a myth.

Shadon was unfortunately not done with that. The dragon still resented The other tribes, Even more so after their aggressive overtaking. Given that they were still fighting tooth and nail to kick the shadow dragons out. Eventually Shadon commanded a borderline be made. It caused a resource supply shortage. As much like The Shadow Dragons before, The dragons of draconia could not go out and receive resources from other islands. He had made a continent-wide lockdown.

Shadon’s tyranny did not stop. Eventually his lust for revenge turned into a lust of power. He started to send out troops to other continents, other isles. Soon the whole world new shadow dragons as evil beings that would take over your home. Dragons became desperate to stop Shadon’s onslaught. So they performed a ceremony to summon the artist onto the land. Unfortunately, a creator cannot meddle with the universe they control. Although they did spark courage in another.

Why not? It sure sounds like they meddle with our lives all the time.

Shadon’s son shadow. While I have not spoken of them much. Shadon had two sons. One named Shadow, and the other named Viserin. Viserin was his eldest son, but was born with albinism. Something he hated and despised. In order to try and impress his father. He became the best assassination shadon had in his troops. His son Shadow on the other hand. Had no such special traits. He was scrawny, small, and had no battle training. Yet Shadon promised him the crown over his elder brother.

Ass.

The artist came to shadow when he was hidden away in despair. His father's violence was something unliked by the child. The artist spoke to him, and while the exact words are not known. They encouraged him to go against his father. That even despite his weak body, the artist would promise victory.

You beat him up buddy.

And so Shadow went against his father. While many proclaim the victory under his claws. Shadow was indeed not strong enough to defeat his father. Instead it was his brother Viserin that killed the tyrant. Ending the suffering of many. And while the tribes accepted the shadows back on draconia, It was more so out of fear.

Shadow led a peaceful life. Light dragons still hated Shadow Dragons with a passion. But the other tribes eventually let go of their grudges. Realizing that Shadow and many other Shadow Dragons had no true evil hearts. Shadow element is in fact not an element casted only with hatred. But it is a sign of lower motions such as grief and sadness. Something one needs in order to recover from events.

Correct. And these old dragons were dumb for believing otherwise.

Shadow unfortunately did not continue his bloodline, as he believed it tainted. Instead when he had gotten the kingdoms to a relatively peaceful state, He asked all the shadow dragons of that brooding season to give their eggs up to the castle and one would be picked at random. The egg that was picked was indeed two twins. Marking another era and unfortunately another war.

So Shadon's line doesn't exist anymore? Just gone?

Dragon culture after the first Shadow war.

The culture still remained relatively the same. They were still cut up as tribes, and elements still held precedent. Although due to shadons crusade, It was quickly taught that you should never judge an element. Although in some tribes this was looked down upon. As tribes such as the light dragon's still heavily practiced prejudice. Something that still heavily impacted the shadow dragons.

The light Dragon and Shadow Dragon war.

The two twin leaders both still felt the tension of the light dragon's kinds rage. The light dragon King still protested against their presence. And while the sister of the twins simply wished to encourage shadows peace. The brother wanted to put the light dragons in their place.

It is unknown exactly how the discussion went. But the sister and the brother split. The sister went into hiding among the tribes, while the brother stayed and led his kingdom to war against the light dragons. While it was only against the light dragons, the light dragon's alliance with other tribes nullified this idea. The brother still refused to hurt or fight the other tribes. But his people would defend themselves nonetheless, and it was believed he'd become another tyrant.

Ohhh. Sibling fights.

While the brother led his war. The sister found a prince of the same age from the light dragon King brood. Soon they grew a relationship. Although both knew they would have to hide it from the light dragon King. They formed their own mini alliance. Shadow dragons and light dragons that disagreed with the hatred between the two tribes joined them. Along with some other elemental dragons that were tired of prejudice impacting The Shadow and light Dragons lives.

This joined alliance fought against not only the light dragon king's warriors, but also the Brothers warriors. Causing not only for the sister's and the prince's affairs to be revealed, but also proving that light and Shadow Dragons could work together. The fighting unfortunately did not stop for some time. Compiling in a battle where the sister herself fought against her brother. The sister using the ancient fire wing technique to take him out.

Well that sounds sad.

If you wish to read about the fire wing technique. Please read dragon species and abilities book.

When the dust had settled the sister cried over her brother's death. As while it is unknown what specifically the brother said to the sister while she drove him to his death. She swears upon her life and it was an apology for all he had done. While the light dragon king celebrated victory. The sisters alliance and the Shadow Dragons mocked him for causing so much pain across species. This mockery spread around the tribes. Although there was still nothing to be done about the segregation between shadows and light dragons.

This dang gon light dragon King sucks.

Dragon culture after the light and shadow dragon war.

Again not much changed after the shadow and light dragon war. Although due to the sisters' alliance, some Shadow dragon and light dragon cities allowed the tribes to walk among each other. Some of these cities the treading was equal. In others, It was not, unusually there would be some segregation over what uses and areas the other species would be allowed.

Will this story of them just fighting ever end? I've gone through half of this book and I feel like I've just heard the same thing like three times.

The New Age.

While the world still lived in misery, The sister and the prince's affair soon became a partnership between the two. The two mates had a son. The first tribe hybrid in years. They named this son Trygan. And with the help of this tribe hybrid, a new age would finally come upon dragons. The age that many would recognize.

I know Trygan! Finally somebody that doesn't sound like a thing from a myth!

Trygan lived among the world where he was not quite one or the other. He lived with both the distrust and the acceptance of multiple tribes and cities. It was confusing for the young dragon at first, but eventually he came upon the same realizations as many shadow dragons had come on to him before. This has to end. But Trygan knew the consequences of war. While it had gotten some results, It was terrible and caused a bunch of bloodshed. So he instead sought to follow his mother's footsteps. Making an alliance that was even stronger than the light dragon king could ever anticipate.

Unfortunately Trygan was not a man of words or politics. His father and mother could only teach him so much. Although luckily he had help from the most unseen places. The God clockwork and finally decided he was done with all this ruckus himself. Whether it was his own need for peace between his own kind, oh perhaps simply wanting to illustrate a new world, is unknown. All that is known, Is that clockwork came down upon Trygan, and offered his services in not only creating the new world, but ensuring that he had the backing of all the tribes.

Oh so now he's meddling.

It is then that Trygan started a different type of crusade. A crusade of letters. Millions of letters he wrote with Clockworks pencil. Sending them not only to the tribe leaders, but also to the mayors and influencers of different cities. It is around this time when Trygan met a female undead dragon. One that was of a species that was not expected of her element. A wyvern. With her help, and many other dragons that searched for him after their letters were given, scoured across the land speaking of peace for not only the shadow and light Dragons, but for all the tribes.

Yeah!

The light dragon King was of course upset by this. As many of his own people had joined to Trygan and his alliance. Only the cities he visited often seem to stay by his side. Although he was foolish and believed that the tribe leaders would still follow his word. Trygan was not a tribe leader yet. So he thought that letters would be unheard by the tribe leaders.

That was until the Shadow dragon king, Trygan mother. Stepped down so that he could have a personal word with the Lord's. It was considered the youngest Lord that had ever stepped down. Sending not only the Lord's ideas of their immortality being utilized. But also to face the fact that Trygan's letters were now official.

So the current King just gave up their immortality just so Trygan could make their point? Ha!

Many of the leaders had already indeed heard of Trygan’s letters. Some who are not stuck up with pride had also read those letters. Trygan had already a heavy group supporting his side. So when he came into the tribe meeting, there was no question who was going to win the argument. Trygan stated the facts clearly. It was the light dragons fault that all of this had started. It was all of their thoughts supporting this prejudice. They all wanted out of this torment, and he had a way. Proudfully explaining that he had the God clockwork on his side already with the solution.

He's got the power of a god and the tribes on his side!

While many agreed. The light dragon King and a few others protested the idea. Calling him a fool for believing he could talk with a God. Mocking the god clockwork as something old and foolish. Proudfully announcing that if this was something they all believed in. They would go to war for it. A while to Trygan did not wish to go to war against the light dragons for another time. The roar of his supporters and the words of clockwork made him accept the challenge. Stating this would be the last war Shadow Dragons would ever do as a tribe.

And so the war commenced. It is recorded as the longest and most strenuous of the wars. Elemental tribe against elemental tribe. While Trygan's alliance held more people, It did not have the rage that the light dragon King and his alliances had. As Trygan still did not wish to bring death upon the land. His alliance left many injured but alive. This continued until Trygan and the light dragon king met in combat. The two battled until Trygan won.

Get screwed sucker!

When the battle was finally over. The God clockwork finally revealed themselves. Commanding that a new order be made. No longer would they separate themselves by elemental tribes. Instead, They will separate themselves into their cities. Their clans. The most respected and loved of the dragons would become king, not some lineage or pure bloodline. These kings shall be marked by a crown of horns. Showing the new order by making try again the first dragon King. Gaining of crown of beautifully twisted horns. Marking the new era.

This is a weird representation of how the war ended. Most books describe Trygan stating these rules. Not Clockwork.

Dragon culture as we know.

It is finally after years of war and struggle. That we get to how dragons are now known to function and operate. There are not as many wars to note after the beginning of a new era. As it was firmly established that elements would no longer act as prejudice, and it is heavily frowned upon to treat a species in a similar matter. Plus for the first couple years the God clockwork used Trygan as a physical vessel to spread the word.

Wait. So was it Trygan walking around or was it Clockwork?

Onwards to the discussion. The history and the myth of Clockworks words is pretty straight on. The dragon tribes split and dismantled. Dragons were told to mingle among whoever they wished. While at first elements still banded together, It allowed other dragons to greet other elemental dragons. And soon many others followed in that path. Rulership was no longer continent wide. Instead they usually ruled areas of land where a certain city or home was established.

This I know.

Within each of these little communities, there would be one dragon that would grow an excellent twisted pair of horns. These horns could either be twisted or be intertwined with others. This dragon would still be given immunity to age and sickness. Although it did not last forever. After a good 20 years that immunity was on the line. If that king decided to be unruly, they're horns would fall off much like a deer's antlers. Not only marking them as a foul tempered dragon, but making them lose their status as king. It is then within the ranks of the clan, another dragon would grow a twisted pair of horns. Marking them as the new leader.

I have to remember that the word King refers to any dragon that is in a rulership position. Some of these kings might have been females.

Unlike in the old times where a king could step down. Dragons of the New era were unable to do such a thing. Although many found ways around it. Different clans would form different rules. Ones of which the king was unwilling to rule, would often form communal groups that would basically rule alongside them. Often naming Sir Kings.

Yeah and it's the best job to have.

Due to the fact that dragons usually rule in clans. Rules will differentiate. Although there is always a couple that are steadfast.

Oh dear goodness here is the boring list.

The first rule is that the dragon with horns is always the king. If conflicts or meetings should arise between clans, It is their duty to deal with such arrangements. Whether that be by themselves or by working as an advisor with their people.

The second rule is that if a messenger or a letter is given to a clan from another clan, They must read and receive it. While they do not have to accept anything within the letter, They must read or listen to the other clans demands or pleads.

A third rule is that bloodshed stays between the fighting clans. While clans that have good alliances with each other are allowed to support with resources or pleading words to the enemy clan. They are not allowed to shed the other clans' blood. Although sometimes this is circumvented by alliance clans declaring their own war against the one that is fighting their friend clan.

A fourth rule is that dragons must be allowed to leave their clans if they wish. There will be no restrictions trapping a certain dragon with a clan. The only time this is allowed is when holding another clan's dragon as prisoner. Of which either that prisoner has to be released or killed at the end of the conflict.

A fifth rule states that no dragon should be judged for their element or species. There are some clans that still do not follow this rule, but this often leads to war with other clans. These clans often also do not have king dragons with as brilliant twisted horns. Some of these clans not even being ruled by a dragon that has twisted horns.

These rules usually keep the clans in peace. Although there were of course conflicts that arise. Usually determined by differentiating rules between clans. Sometimes also created out of territorial disputes. Dragons for the most part live in peace between each other. There is only one dragon species that does not quite live by these clan rules.

That is the dragon species Amphiptere. While they still follow the same rules, It is uncommon they will mix with other species other than a simple clan alliance. Amphipteres as the gods clockwork chosen dragon, usually have heightened numbers and a unique species like system.

If you wish to read about this specific system. You can read Dragon species and abilities book.

But know that Amphipteres have an extra rule that prevents them from fighting other species or clans unless it is in self-defense. I suppose it is Clockworks way to circumvent the fact that they are not communal with other species in a clan-like fashion.

Why do they get a freebie from the clan rules? Just cuz they're special?

Now. The next book in this series goes over the different dragon species and their abilities. And as you can see from my many footnotes, It is heavily suggested that you read that book after this one.

I don't want to read any more books!

[glorytodroidkind]

Painting the Town

Oh this takes me back. This bad boy was the first oneshot I'd ever written for the series, and it was a request from Wattpad!

I have mixed feelings on this lol, it's cringy at times and it's just...I was just starting to understand them and. Yeah.

even tho it makes me cringe, it is special to me.

Pairing:

Adam x Human!Reader x Eve

(platonic with a sprinkling of pining)

"I have never seen so much white in one place," you groaned as you attempted to sketch a mural that would add more color to the copied city. Scattered around you were the rejected ideas. Everything from "you're my butter half" to the Jaws movie poster had been considered, but each of them had their problems.

   "Hey Y/N!" Eve called, practically leaping into your room. "Whatcha doing?"

You giggled at his antics and held up your current sketch-a Halloween mural, complete with floating candlesticks, jack o lanterns, and other spooky Halloween must-haves. "I've been doing a little bit of sketching, nothing much," you finally replied.

   "Wait, didn't humans eat pumpkins?" He asked. "That's what my brother told me at least, so why are those pumpkins not being eaten?"

   Inside, you cried a little because it had been forever since you had a good pumpkin spice latte or whatever. "Well, we do eat pumpkins, but we eat the insides. Has Adam not read about vegetable carving?"

"There is a seemingly endless pile of books I have yet to read. Surely you can't expect me to have read them all so quickly?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Adam's response. "Um, how long exactly have you been here?"

Adam chuckled lightly at your response. "Long enough time see your artwork, Y/N. Does the artwork have any purpose?"

"You mean like...does it help me live my life? No, I could live without it," you began. "But there's only so much white I can handle, and having even a splash of color, I don't know how to describe it exactly, but it makes me feel...happier? I have no idea."

   Adam was silent for a moment. "If it will help you with your morale, I suppose it would be...fun...to see this city pop with color."

  "Yeah!" Eve cheered. "We'll help you! Where do we start?"

This was how the three of you found yourselves painting a large mural in your room. The ceiling was painted to resemble the night sky, complete with an aurora borealis. Each of the walls was decorated to look like a holiday. The wall your bed was against was Christmas themed, with cute little penguins in Santa hats, a Christmas tree, and of course, reindeer. The wall opposite that was thanksgiving filled, which meant a lot of turkeys. The wall to the right of your bed was Halloween themed, and the one across from Halloween was Valentine's Day themed.

  "Thank you guys for your help today," you said when the task was finally completed. You then noticed Adam, who had red and green (and possibly white) paint stains on his usually clean white shirt. "Wait-Adam painted with us? And I didn't even have to convince him! This has got to be a dream."

Adam chuckled lightly at this. "No, I decided that it couldn't hurt to do what you humans used to call hands-on research this time."

  "Hey Y/N?" Eve questioned, red and pink paint splattered basically all over him. "What's the significance of all these hearts?"

  "Well, um, we set aside one day in the year, February 14, to really show your love and appreciation for someone else, whether it's romantically or not," you explained. "I've always thought it was kind of silly since you should always show appreciation for those you care about regardless of the day of the year."

Eve nodded, but you figured he'd ask you to explain it again sooner or later. Adam on the other hand was probably mentally noting the information immediately so he could read about it.

"How close are we to this Valentine's Day?" Adam asked at last.

"Depends. I haven't seen a calendar in who knows how long so I have no idea what day it is. I feel like it's closer to Halloween though."

"Is Halloween also a day to show your appreciation?" Eve questioned. You laughed a little at that.

"No, Halloween is about embracing the scary. You go through haunted houses, dress up in costumes, and demand candy in the dead of night," you explained.

Eve grinned. "That sounds awesome!" He exclaimed. "I want to celebrate Halloween now!"

"I am going to do some more research on the subject of Halloween," Adam stated as he calmly strode out of the room.

"Hey! You said you play a game with me later!" Eve exclaimed, chasing after him.

You chuckled as you watched them go. 'Be still my heart,' you thought, as you once again began daydreaming about what might happen if you dared to tell them exactly what you felt about them.

"Maybe next time..." you said quietly. "Next time I'll tell them."

[luciality]

insane brain telling me to turn one of my oldest wip fics into an ask blog instead vs i dont wanna draw

[rainofthetwilight]

alright so ive decided the first three chapters of as the years pass by are getting rewritten!!

updates with each will be slow, but ill try to somehow release them all at once to not confuse things since there are some things i need to add, plus i realized how i wasnt actually focusing on jenna and ethan properly so yeah a rewrite here we come lmao

[autisticrosewilson]

•°•Spotlight Overture•°•

Pairing(s): Willis Todd & Catherine Clemens, Catherine Clemens/Nathalie Knight (Nocturna), Willis Todd|Wingman & Natasha Mitternacht|Nocturna, Catherine Clemens/Willis Todd/Nathalie Knight

Warnings: Gotham typical crime, canon divergence, eventual polyamory, secret identity shenanigans, this mini series is going to get very sad, don't ask me about the time period DC doesn't know and neither do I

Willis is led through the darkened club by two men in matching suits. It's a tasteful place compared to his usual haunts, the dance floor is a blur of star confetti and neon light bouncing off the disco ball on the ground floor while the bar and tables litter the top. The old Hollywood decor reminds him of a girl he knew in highschool, he vaguely recognizes the posters framed on the wall as musical productions she used to like.

The nature of the patrons is obvious immediately, older men in loud suits and the scent of too-strong cologne permeating the air under the reek of alcohol and sweat. Gotham's nightlife is in full swing here, ripe with the parasites that fester in her underbelly.

Gotham's old money is hardly his first choice of employer, but things have been tight at the shop lately and cash is cash.

"Wingman," a severe looking older man greets him when he enters the study, "a pleasure to have you." The man greets him curtly. Charles Mitternacht, head of a prominent, if lesser known crime Family. Owner of The Spotlight and the man who will be signing his paycheck, although Willis isn't entirely sure what he's being paid to do yet.

A bad idea to go into a situation like this without all the details but no guts, no glory he supposes.

The office decor differs from the rest of the club, the bookshelves are overstuffed and the furniture is worn but well cared for. The Mitternacht's are an old family, and this is an old building. Let it never be said that they're uneducated or arrogant, you don't stay under the Bat's radar even with their kind of notoriety by thinking like the common crook.

It's another reason why Willis agreed to the terms so easily, they wouldn't have him do anything too heinous or flashy, they know better than to think it wouldn't come down on them eventually.

Mrs. Mitternacht is sat beside her husband, dark hair done up in elaborate victory rolls reminiscent of the faded photos of his mother in her youth. Well, now he knows who decorated the place. Her lips are a bright shade of red and her eyes are sharp, calculating despite the ditzy smile on her face, with straight white teeth befitting of the silver screen.

He doesn't buy it for a second.

Their children are gathered behind them, standing at attention in a straight line. He knows three out of the five, the other two he at least recognizes from past events, but there's one set apart from the others. A separation so distinct he almost doesn't recognize that she's a part of the family at all. He suspects maybe she's a daughter in law, but he's never seen her before, and there's nothing the elite love more than showing off.

She's pale, unnaturally pale, like she's never been touched by sunlight before. It's stark, even for a Gothamite. The dress she wears is different from the others, simpler, something you'd wear at a dance recital rather than a high society event. There's a dark veil covering her face, obscuring all defining features behind layers of lace. She's the tallest one in the room, even taller than him, although she's lanky and thin. Frail, almost.

He doesn't believe that either, he's reliably certain that there's at least one knife hidden beneath her dress. He's under no illusion that even in the thin ballet flats, she's a threat. One look at long nails sharpened into vicious points is enough to confirm it.

"I apologize for the secrecy of this meeting, but word travels fast in our circles." Charles pulls his attention back to the reason for his being here. "This request might be a little unusual for someone of your...caliber," with the way he said it, Willis can't tell if that's an insult, "but you have a reputation for being reliable and versatile. Both admirable traits that I think will serve our cause well." He continues.

Willis takes a moment to think about that with arms crossed and head tilted slightly, expression hidden behind his helmet. "What kinda job 're we talkin about here?" He decides not to beat around the bush.

Charles nods, seeming to appreciate his bluntness. "A bodyguard. It'll be a longer job, but I assure that you'll be paid handsomely should you accept." He explains, straightforward and confident despite the curve ball he's just thrown.

God bless him but Willis has never been able to keep his mouth shut. "...You hired a gun for...protection?" He can't help but voice his confusion. Sure, hirelings take all kinds of jobs, but protection detail usually goes to more high profile mercs. "Kinda the opposite of my job." He points out.

"I believe in subverting expectations." The man grins, cold and sharp. "I think you'll do just fine. More than competent enough for the task, and discreet to boot." Ah, there it is. Subtlety isn't a practice most Gotham criminals employ, but the Mitternacht's have turned it into an art form. "If you'll accept this contract, I'm positive we'll all benefit." He proposes.

"And who would I be guarding, exactly?" Willis asks after some deliberation. He already has an idea, but he'd like to have it confirmed before he agrees to anything.

"Natasha." He orders, gesturing for the mystery girl to step forward. Her hair is so dark it almost blends with the veil, stringy curls falling over her white skin like an oil spill. She moves silently, nothing but the whisper of her skirt to signal her approach and if Willis weren't watching her, he'd never be able to tell she moved at all.

"My youngest," Charles introduces, "a newer addition to the family." He says cryptically. That...could mean a lot of things. But if they don't offer, he won't pry. None of his business.

He can see her a bit better now that she's separated from the shadows of the room. On closer inspection she can't be much older than him, maybe nineteen or twenty.

Willis nods slowly, trying not to give anything away through his body language. "How long should I expect this contract to last?" He urges.

"A few months, at the least." Charles shrugs carelessly, although he's too tense to read as casual. "You'll be well compensated the whole time, of course. You seem like you could benefit from a long term paycheck." He sniffs, pointedly eyeing Willis's patchwork of homemade gear. Sure, it's not the best, but it's functional and cohesive, certainly not deserving of that much ridicule. He can't deny that he's in need of the cash though, it's the only reason he's here at all.

Thinking back to his near empty fridge and the long list of things that need to be fixed, and replaced, and bought makes him swallow the snarky remark bubbling up in his throat in favor of thinking logically. "...Deal." he decides. "Where do I sign?" He straightens up from his casual lean, plopping down into the chair on the other side of the desk.

Catherine inhales deeply, the musk of the Alley preferable to the stagnant air of the club. She misses the smell of wet earth and clean air, wishes she hadn't taken the ability to breathe easily for granted. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

She knows she smells like a mini-bar, the fruity perfume she'd doused herself in before her shift having faded through the night. She can't wait to get back to her dorm, the showers should be empty this time of night, perfect for her to take her time scrubbing the layer of sweat and gunk from her skin. Unfortunately, her shift isn't quite over yet, she's working a double tonight since her favorite coworker is out sick. She barely managed to escape outside for her break, luckily she's been working here long enough to have some seniority and she managed to wrangle one of the new hires into taking over for a while.

She sighs, rummaging around her pockets for her cigarettes but pauses when she can't find her lighter. She curses, double checking just to make sure and clicking her tongue when she comes up empty handed.

"Need a light?" A voice at the end of the Alley catches her attention and her free hand falls to the pocket housing her switch blade on instinct.

Her gaze locks on a tall, broad man with dark curls and a crooked grin. He's dressed down in a plain black button down, the first few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Immediately she can tell he's not the usual bar patron. He's got messy curls and an obnoxious tie reminiscent of an arcade carpet hanging loosely from his neck. His accent is too thick to be upper class, the kind of lilt that can only be found in some of the worse parts of the city.

His posture is relaxed, nothing about him is hostile or demanding. He doesn't even make a move to approach, just waits for her to answer. Like offering a treat to a skittish cat.

She swallows thickly, fingers wrapped tightly around the knife, but she nods. "Yeah, please." She mutters, just loud enough to be heard in the quiet alley. Well, as quiet as Gotham gets. There are cars passing by every few minutes and a dog barking a block over, she can see lights on in the surrounding apartments and there's an old woman smoking her own cigarette on the balcony above them.

It doesn't make her relax any, she knows full well that Gothamites stay to themselves. It probably wouldn't do her much good to call for help. She's on her own, but she's used to that.

The man stops just short of arms reach, movements telegraphed as he tosses her the red Bic. She catches it easily, the "Good throw," Slipping out before she even thinks about it. She's quick about lighting the cigarette, moving to toss it back the second the flame catches.

"Keep it," the man insists, "I got spares." He assures. He leans casually against the grimey brick, body angled towards her. It's not as claustrophobic as it might feel otherwise, there's a good chunk of space between them, she has faith that she'd be faster than him if she needed to get away. She relaxes just a bit, exhaling a puff of smoke into the humid night air.

"Thanks." She nods curtly, eyes glued to the graffiti on the building across from them.

They lapse into what she's pretty sure is an awkward silence, although the man doesn't seem bothered. Studying him out of her peripherals gives her the impression he's perfectly content where he is, lips tilted up just enough for one of his dimples to show, no sign that he's planning to leave anytime soon.

"Y'do any sports?" He asks out of the blue, startling her into facing him head on.

She blinks at him, bewildered for a second before deciding to answer. "...Used to." She offers hesitantly. "Softball and volleyball." She elaborates a little.

He hums approvingly, "Thought so. Gotta good arm on ya." He grins at her, and it's a stupidly endearing thing. Unrestrained delight and so very proud of himself. It softens the lines of his face, seems like it lights up the whole alley.

"Thanks." she says a little more sincerely this time. Inhales another puff of smoke and then let's it out. "How about you?" She wonders.

"Hockey, wrestling. Some football." He shrugs. She can see it, he looks like the kinda man that can throw his weight around. He doesn't look like the kind of guy who likes to. An enigma, to be certain.

"I'm Willis by the way." He introduces himself officially. It's so casual it catches her off guard. You don't just give your name to people, she learned that early on. Gotham almost seems to operate by fae rules, where deals are currency and reality is altered. Names have power, you don't just hand them out.

It could always be a fake name, but something tells her that's not the case. Willis is either very cocky or very stupid. He hasn't struck her as either yet.

"Kat," she offers the same name printed on her name tag, "nice to meet you." She almost means it too. As far as late night encounters go, this hasn't been nearly as bad as it could've been.

Willis grins at her like she just put the stars in the sky and it pulls a soft smile to her face before she can stop it.

The back door swings open with a creak that makes her jump, pushing herself off the wall where she hadn't realized she'd started to slump. A frazzled server emerges, dragging his feet as he nods to her. "Louise wants you back, new kid is fighting for his life in there." He informs her, already pulling his own cigarettes out.

"Thanks Chen." She nods to him as she starts making her way inside.

She pauses just before the door, glancing back to Willis whose still grinning like he's won something. "See ya around." She waves him off, pointedly ignoring her coworkers raised eyebrow. She's sure she'll know his middle name, address, and blood type by the time their little nightshift crew finally goes home for the night.

It's only a few hours later when she goes to slide the lighter into her purse that she catches sight of the number written on the back in sharpie.

"Cathyyyyyy!" Her drawn out whine rings through the apartment. It's 10 AM, half an hour before it's time for her first class to start. She lets herself fall to the second hand couch, arm thrown over her eyes to protect them from the morning sun streaming from the open kitchen blinds.

Catherine hardly spares her a glance from where she's scribbling away at something, pages and books spread out on the tilted kitchen table. To her credit, she closes the blinds quickly. "Mornin' Nattie." That southern lilt drips out, saturated with amusement. "You sure are up early." The red head chirps. She's always been the morning person between the two of them. It's exceedingly unfair how easily she seems to work through her lack of sleep. Nathalie doesn't know what she'd do if she didn't have her abilities to aid her through long nights and arduous lectures.

"Is breakfast ready?" She decidedly does not pout. She can't be expected to help it. If she were still residing in her family's estate a full course meal would already be prepared.

But then she wouldn't be waking up to Catherine every morning. Wouldn't be able to see her backlit by the sun like an angel as she sips her cheap tea out of a novelty mug. It's a fair trade, she supposes.

Her fortune will be waiting for her at the end of her studies, hopefully she'll have convinced Catherine to come with her by then.

Catherine hums an affirmation, finally looking up at Nathalie with that impossibly fond look. "In the fridge, gonna have'ta heat it up if ya want some." She grins.

"Cathyyyyyyyyyyy!" She groans, arm thrown back over eyes.

"Somethin' the matter, darlin'?" It's not fair how effective the nickname is on her, how it makes her melt into a puddle on the creaking couch.

Catherine doesn't make her wallow in her misery for too long. Nathalie hears a snort that makes her look up just in time to see her fiddling with the microwave. It's a minute or so before she pops it open, careful to stop it before the beeping can wreak havoc on Nathalie's sensitive ears.

"Breakfast is served, my lady." Her twang is replaced by a posh accent that mimics Nathalie's own. It's not as mocking as it would be from someone else. The affectionate warmth is soured when she thinks of the new bodyguard she's been assigned, the man that will be tailing her every night for the foreseeable future.

"You ever go outside? Or would that be too much for my lady's delicate sensibilities?" Wingman had teased, his voice muffled from behind the birdlike mask. It reminded her of a plague doctor at first, but on closer inspection it's more mechanical.

She had not dignified that with a response.

She gratefully accepts the bowl of reheated pasta. It's not gourmet, but it's a family recipe Catherine was delightfully proud to show off, which might make it better. If you subscribe to sentimental things like that. Which Natasha Mitternacht most certainly doesn't.

She's glad she's just Nathalie Knight right now. It means she can forgo all of her manners to shove the biggest bite she can into her mouth and grin with unsharpened teeth. There's a trill of victory when she sees Cathy huff out a laugh and plop down beside her.

"Better eat quick, ya gotta start gettin' ready soon." Catherine reminds her, thumb rubbing soft circles on the pale skin of her ankle.

Nathalie hums in acknowledgement, eating at a slightly slower pace now. "What would I do without you?" She remarks, and it's a joke but it's really not.

"Perish the thought," Cathy grins at her, "You got me." She promises. Nathalie wonders what her lips taste like. The lipstick she wears today reminds her of cherry pie filling, bright red and glossy.

"Do you work tonight?" Nathalie asks, as if she doesn't know. As if she doesn't see Kat behind the bar every night, faking smiles to bad men and struggling to hide her sympathy for their escorts. As if she's the uninterested, unobservant roommate she pretends to be.

Catherine sighs, slumps against the couch and lets her head tilt back to stare at the ceiling. "Yup, 'nother double tonight." She informs.

Nathalie shifts her legs into Catherine's lap, bare legs against faded jeans. "One day I will pay for everything and you won't even have to look at that place." She promises. She always keeps her promises, but Catherine doesn't know that. There's a lot of things Catherine doesn't know about her.

"Yeah, okay." Catherine snorts, predictably brushing it off as a joke. She will learn, eventually. Nathalie does not need to convince her right now. "One day." She sighs, tired and longing.

Nathalie wonders what Catherine's one day is. Hopes she's included. Knows that's wistful thinking at best.

Her alarm goes off, faintly buzzing in the pocket of her (Cathy's) hoodie. She ignores it, and even though Catherine undoubtedly hears it she doesn't say anything either.

One day.

[updownlately]

not happy with that new blurb tbh but i wanted to get that idea out and at least getting something out yk?

anyways, im tired adios! goodnight amigos!

[unofficialadamtaurus]

spite makes right