#monstrous-twilight

[trueishcolours]

I just realised I can tell the internet about the fucked up (lighthearted) thing that happened to me.

So I was with my colleagues, and it's a residential job so we're all staying in the same boarding house.

I go downstairs and find some of them relaxing in the communal area, I join them, they've turned on the TV, Fifty Shades of Grey is playing.

I think it was the third one, Fifty Shades Freed?

So we're all idly watching and making a lot of jokes about watching dirty movies in the workplace (it was actually an extremely tame movie, NOTHING was happening). And generally commenting on the badness of the movie, and the novels, and I say,

'They're all based on Twilight fanfiction.'

And my colleagues go, 'what?'

And I say, 'they're based on Twilight fanfiction.'

And they say, 'how do you mean?'

And I go, '................as in the author originally started writing a story about Edward and Bella, and then changed the names and sold it as an original novel.'

And my colleauges go, 'so, what, it was about billionaire vampires, or...'

And I say, 'I think it was about billionaires INSTEAD of vampires.'

And I think a bit about how to bridge this vast cultural chasm, and I say, 'it's called an Alternate Universe.'

And THEN my colleagues say, 'we're not sure we believe you.'

And I'm like, 'you don't BELIEVE me???????'

And I'm just sitting there trying to fathom the fact that Fifty Shades being based on fanfiction is..........no longer common knowledge? There was at least a TIME when it was common knowledge, right????? When the novels first came out everybody was discussing, 'there's this book, it's got kink right on the page there in the mainstream, how shocking, it is misogynist and a sign of society's moral downfall, AND ALSO it is based on Twilight fanfiction.'

Anyway my colleagues had never heard this and they maybe didn't believe me?????????????? And I thought I was just tossing out a well-worn fact???????????????????? Help???????????????????????????

TRULY fandom is not the world...

[monstrous-fusion]

Rancher / Twilight Princess / he/she / 21 years

Though he is but a simple farmhand from Ordon, Rancher is exceptionally brave, often going out of his way to help those in need. Possessing a heart of gold and dogged loyalty to his greatest good, Rancher is the ideal hero. The only thing marring her perfect image is a shadowy form and a regret that boiled his blood.

A huge thanks to @wildsage00 for all the help with her design! I really appreciated your guidance and advice with this one <3 she looks wonderful

Some fun facts about her under the cut!

This MIGHT just shock you, but he loves Ordonian Goats. Sometimes she wishes she could have been turned into a goat rather than a wolf--they're more friendly, but still powerful and not to be trifled with. It still hurts him that the goats hate her wolf form so much.

Bugs!!!! Every once and awhile, she'll go out to the city and help Agitha with her bug preservation, and he ended up learning a lot about them! His favourite sub family of bugs is Holoptilinae (a subfamily of Reduviinae, or Assassin bugs) because of their feathery little legs! Also, he WILL give you a huge rant about how Daddy Long Leg ""spiders"" aren't actually spiders (Minish would agree).

Rancher is their best horse rider in the group and physically the strongest next to Engie (guess a lot of chucking coal into a furnace makes you pretty physically strong). She can (and will) lift a fully grown Ordonian goat if she has to.

[llondonfog]

twst (horror) tober — day 6 (time)

➤ Day 6: Time | “How long has it been?” 

Silver once told him that ever since stepping into the role of caring for Lilia, the concept of time turned meaningless to him.

Silver told him that he can only categorize the days now on a continuum of good and bad.

There were days when his father would wake up with the hint of recognition in his eyes and an agreeable slant to his lips, and Silver needn't coax him out of bed to amuse him with the trinkets and gifts bestowed upon him by well-meaning classmates and a grieving liege. There were even better days when a glimmer of memory not yet lost would surface in the dark and mired deadlands of his father's deteriorating mind, when he'd pat the cushion beside him on the couch and regal Silver with a tale he'd heard at least several times before— each time, he listens just as patiently as if it were the first.

And then there were bad days when the fae that awaited him on the other side of the bedroom door screeched and howled in a long-lost tongue, days when Silver was forced to use the iron bolts that Malleus-sama had pleaded with him to install on the wooden frame if he wouldn't listen to reason and use manacles fixed to the bed instead ("My father isn't a monster, Malleus-sama, I won't humiliate him and strip his dignity away!") to stop those wild, ragged claws from tearing through the wood like paper to scratch out his eyes. Days when it is hard to separate the loving, smiling father from the feral creature caught in a losing battle as it succumbs to a fate inevitable to its kind.

Sebek listens to his friend, remains silent for once— it is unlike Silver to share his burdens, to even talk about the difficulties of caring for a fae so advanced in the decay as Lilia lest he fears that anyone find him complaining. They had all tried to talk him out of it when they had learned that Silver had already rescinded his studies at Night Raven College with the intent to care for his father to the bitter end. Malleus had nearly been beside himself, for safety could not be guaranteed, even for a human as strong and determined as Silver— "He'll overwhelm you," Sebek had watched his prince all but beg the boy to reconsider. "You know naught of what you are consigning yourself to, you have never seen our kind at our most frightful display. He would not wish this upon you, he would want his memory to remain pristine in your mind!"

But Silver had remained steadfast, loyal and devoted to his father beyond all rational persuasion. "I will not allow his last moments to be in suffering and all alone, Malleus-sama. He has sacrificed his life for the country, for you, and for me— I find it hardly equal what meager weeks I can give to him so that he may go in peace."

And so they had left to that cottage in the forest, the only home that both of them had ever known. Sebek had visited only once, the nature of being Malleus-sama's sole guard until Silver's return dictating that he shoulder a more hefty responsibility. They had both appeared rather worn and weary, bags deeper under Silver's eyes than he had ever known them to exist before, but together at least with wan smiles on their faces, as Silver had so desperately wished for them to be.

All the same, Sebek's gaze had keenly noted the presence of thin, crimson lines along Silver's forearms and neck— he found himself too much of a coward to glance at Lilia's hands.

Today, however, he's visiting for a much different reason than merely personal concern. Malleus-sama had bid him to venture out into those isolated, lonely woods, a frown deep and haggard on his perfect face; Sebek knows that if he were to look in a mirror, the same expression would be reflected back at him. For two weeks now, not a single letter delivered to the cottage had returned with correspondence, courtesy of Silver's little feathered friends usually so delighted to concede to his requests. Normally, a week's worth of silence would have jolted the both of them into worry, but with the whirlwind of a recent goodwill trip to the neighboring human countries, Sebek had merely assumed there would be a small pile of daily updates from Silver for them to look forward to reading upon their return. Imagine then, the foreboding that had settled in like an ominous pressure at the lack of any such notes.

That pressure only mounts and builds with a wicked weight upon his shoulders as he approaches the darkened cottage, silent among the stilled trees. A pressure that twists in his stomach like a corkscrew, and grips his throat in a vice, thinning the air he breathes as he stares with dread at the front door swinging off its hinges, and a faint, nauseating smell choking the scent of violets from beneath his feet.

Today, it seems, is not simply a good or bad day— it is an awful one.

[devotedlystrangewizard]

totk really is one of those games that make me go "ok thanks for the characters, setting, and general plot, but ill take it from here <3" because the entire historical timeline had so much potential for interesting and nuanced story telling but they just went with the old zelda story formula and YES thats how theyve always done it but botw was such a reset in terms of gameplay that they couldve overhauled how they handle story in totk. but they didnt

[cto10121]

Anti fans: If Edward could read Bella’s horny thoughts about him, he would write her off as a whore!!1!1

Canon Edward: How strange, Bella’s heartbeat always accelerates whenever I smile. That’s something Jessica Stanley and Mrs. Cope do when they have their offensive fantasies about me. Could it be that Bella feels the same? Do I…✨dazzle✨ Bella? 🥹 Do I affect her…as a man? 🥹 Big if true…but I mustn’t get my hopes up 😔 She could be anxious or frightened…it is too much to hope for, that my monstrosity could ever be attractive to her 🥺

[riverofempathy]

My version of Bella is anxiety-ridden and selfless-to-the-point-of-destruction (basically canon, just amped up a notch) so this take actually would work well for her.

The thing is “My love becomes a vampire so I’ll become one too to stay with her” can’t hit the same anymore. It’s become just a “ooh being a vampire would be sexy!” or “yay we get to live forever!” romantic thing versus the most defiantly heretical devotion that would make the paper it was written on burn. There’s no “ooh~ vampires~” but rather being willing to join everything you fear and dread the most, that once shattered your mind to endure.

It also just can’t hit the same without that backdrop of severe Victorian social mores one dare not set a foot outside, and a lifetime of being bound by them. Or without the certainty that heaven is real, and you’re willing to bar yourself from it for eternity if your love isn’t granted entrance.

This is gothic Romance with a capital R at its pinnacle and I’m never going to stop thinking about it

[distantshore]

note to self. don't take a class even slightly related to gender studies ever again, you Will be forced to sit next to some of the most annoying people you've ever met in your life

[mndvx]

Death was close, of that much I was sure. But lo, a Valkyrie descended. Beautiful it was, but monstrous... And silence fell. For the fighters knew the creature would decide who would live and die on that field. Others were taken. We were spared. By whose design, we do not know. But as it left us... The Valkyrie bowed. To my Sigrid. TWILIGHT OF THE GODS — The Bride-Price (Episode 1)  written by Eric Carrasco | directed by Zack Snyder

[gryphonlover]

Linked Universe AU Directory

Anyway, I didn't put every single AU on this thing. I do not have the time and energy for that because there's over 600 LU works tagged as alternate universes on Ao3. I did follow some general guidelines when I was deciding which works to add, the most important one being that the AU had to be more than just canon divergence and had to affect all the characters equally. Feel free to add onto this post, if you think something is missing.

Link to the Ao3 Collection

Age Swap | Age Shuffle AU

Apocalypse - Unspecified | Brothers In Arms

Apocalypse - Zombies | Autolysis

Apocalypse - Zombies | LU Zombie AU

Fae | Across the River

Fae | Flower Garden

Fae | From Open Seas, to Dark Tangled Depths

Folklore | If You Thought This Was Gonna Have a Cool Title, You Obviously Don't Know Me

Fusion - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland | Hyrule's Adventures in Wonderland

Fusion - Among Us | Good Riddance

Fusion - Atlantis: The Lost Empire | The Sage's Journal

Fusion - Big Hero 6 | Fierce Hero 9

Fusion - Captain America: Civil War | United We Stand, Divided We Fall

Fusion - Dungeons & Dragons | LU x DnD Crossover

Fusion - Full House | Full House AU

Fusion - Lethal Company | Linked Company AU

Fusion - Lethal Company | Linked Universe AU: Lethal Company

Fusion - Mad Max | And the World Ends Again

Fusion - Monstrous Regiment | Linked Regiment

Fusion - Nailed It! | You Really Nailed it Right There, Buddy!

Fusion - Pokémon | LU Pokémon AU

Fusion - Pride and Prejudice | Pride and Prejudice but it's a Fair-Play Whodunnit

Fusion - Tangled | LU Tangled AU

Fusion - The Hunger Games | LU Hunger Games AU

Fusion - The Incredibles | Linked Universe Incredibles AU

Fusion - The Secret World of Arrietty | The Secret World of Wild and Twilight

Fusion - Spirited Away | One Summer's Day

Fusion - Star Wars | Tales of Courage from Across the Galaxy

Fusion - Warrior Cats | Faronclan AU

Gods & Goddesses | And the Universe Said "I Love You"

Heist | Heist AU

Historical - 1800s | City of Light and Dark

Historical - Supernatural | 1931

Science Fiction - Space Crew | Linked Nexus

Mermaids | Flared Fins

Miscellaneous - Disability | Shatterproof

Miscellaneous - Intrigue | Castle Intrigue

Miscellaneous - Magic | We Could be Immortals

Miscellaneous - Unspecified | Eyes Wide Open

Miscellaneous - Unspecified | Manus Lupus

Modern | Adoption AU

Modern | Good Enough

Modern | In the Heart of Hyrule

Modern | LU Modern AU

Modern | Modern Zeldas AU

Modern | Ranch House AU

Modern | The Many Realities of the Hero Spirit and Modern Living

Modern | The Roadtrip AU

Modern | The Weather Outside is Frightful

Modern - Actors | Linked Universe Actor AU

Modern - Coffeeshop/Café | Looking for Group

Modern - College/University | All You Need to Know

Modern - College/University | Linked University

Modern - College/University | Oh No, They're Theater Kids Now

Modern - College/University | RIP

Modern - Emergency Services | Of Officers and Stuffed Elephants

Modern - Farm | Fresh from the Farm

Modern - Ghost Hunters | A Haunting in Hyrule

Modern - Healthcare | How to Save a Life

Modern - Healthcare | LU in Healthcare

Modern - Magic | Everything but Blood

Modern - Magic | Family is Made of...

Modern - Magic | Maybe Human 

Modern - Magic | Summer Camp Lon!

Modern - Magic | The Chain that Binds Us

Modern - Magic | Wild's Magic Shop AU

Modern - Monsters | Here There Be Monsters

Modern - Movie Theater | There's a Remlit... Loose in the Theater!

Modern - Music Camp | Linked Repertoire

Modern - Newsroom | BSX: Hyrule SatellaNews

Modern - Newsroom | Professions and Professionals

Modern - Office | Linked Corporations

Modern - Opera | Opera House AU

Modern - Retail | The Hot Topic Debate

Modern - Retail | What Goes Down at Festival Foods

Monsters | Seelies and Selkies

Murder Mystery | How to Kill a God

Post-Nuclear War | Chain Reaction

Royalty | Every Other Star

Royalty | I'll Be There

Royalty | Royal Links AU

Royalty | Lost Prince AU Part 1 & Lost Prince AU Part 2

Soulmates - Platonic | Marks on Your Body, Marks on Your Soul

Soulmates - Romantic | Castle Town Coffee Shop

Vigilantes | Empty Streets Full of Life

Vigilantes | We Will Find You, Wherever You Are

Wings | Four's a Dad!?

Wings | Wings AU

Wings | Wing Bois

[piracytheorist]

Spy x Family would have been so fucking bleak and depressing if it weren't for the comedy angle. It could have easily been a story highly focused on how war impacts people even years after it ends, being constantly pessimistic and dark and focusing on the monstrous things people are capable of. It could easily show just the hopeless side of it.

Instead, while it's very realistic on how the characters have been affected by the war, it chooses to put that face-to-face with natural, everyday humanity. Twilight's reluctance to accept his feelings for his family is treated with a touch of humor because it's compared to the innocent way Anya and Yor offer their love - and that's what being human is.

We're meant to live with each other. We're meant to love each other, it's literally in our fucking DNA to create bonds and depend on others for emotional support. Our very first instinct upon being born is to cry because our DNA tells us we will be brought into a world that will hear our cry and help us. It's how people find hope in each other, in small acts of everyday kindness because we're meant to live like that, to support and help and connect with each other.

And the characters' bleak past is contrasted with humanity's innate everyday kindness to the point of making it humorous because war is such a deviation from how humans are meant to live that a man who spends his entire life affected by it looks almost comical in contrast with a little girl who, based on her basic human instincts, believes that she can find a family to love her and can help achieve world peace, with someone right in the middle being one who has seen war but had had a constant reminder of how humanity is about connection and love (Yor, with Yuri being her reminder).

And I just find it so very fitting and also very based of Endo to choose to add that angle in the story. Humanity is not bleak. Even if we deviate from our path we can still find our way and we're naturally inclined to that way. We just have to see the good in each other, to believe that we will not be left alone, to share and know that if we're ever in need, someone will offer their hand to share with us.

[naffeclipse]

The Eel's Hips Pt. 2

Vigilante Mer!Reader x Detective Mer!Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Everyone tell @o-cinnamonstickz thank you for requesting a part 2 to her first commission! I can't tell you how excited I am to continue this storyline where we left off. The boys are determined to keep the vigilante under house arrest and their little fish is making it ever difficult, as always.

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

The midnight sea glows with the silvery light of a full moon. You would admire the coral reef so deliciously dusted in the celestial shine were it not for the two mers surrounding you on either side. They hurry you along, Sun’s hand wrapped tightly around your own as Moon's small finger hooks your pinky. Long, sharp fins and fanning frills easily push you through the water at a swift speed that would have exhausted you in moments were it not for their ability to carry you and cut through the ocean like seaweed.

It’s a shame this isn’t a stroll through the gentle dark with your two favorite mers. They were so insistent and brisk that you came with them. It’s hard to tell them no when they refuse to let you go or slip out of their grasp. How can you blame them? It would have been a tragedy to separate the three of you.

Even in the dimness, you spy life in the Reef. Vibrate hard coral frames the home of sunlight and twilight zone mers alike. Fish slip around anemones while lobsters rest under rocky covers and seahorses hook tightly to seagrass. Sponges, sea turtles, and clams rest low in the valley between mer shelters made gently out of the reef bed. They take you towards the narrow edge of paradise to all, though there is always trouble seemingly churning at every bend. 

There are a few twilight zone mers drifting quietly through the dark. They’re adapted to the lack of bright, yellow sun rays, and the quiet without the bustling sunlight zone mers must be a comfort. You’re not certain. Sun and Moon don’t say much from their days before the Reef welcomed all kinds of mers. From what little you gathered, the twilight zone in the sea is cold, dark, and isolating, even among their own kind.

You’re three linked like the ropes of a net, all of you, shutting your past into the darkness where no one else swims.

It’s better this way.

Distantly, you spy on a couple. A twilight zone mer with the lower half of an octopus causes your gut to clench before you register the orange tentacles which blend into red and then pitch-black tips. He glows a faint cyan light while he guides a sunlight mer towards a home in the coral. Her tail is yellow in the darkness and her hair streams freely behind her, long and wavy and golden brown. She smiles at the midnight mer despite the stark difference in their biology, monstrous against meek. A tender hand touches her cheek. He wraps a tentacle loosely around her tail, and the twilight zone admires her for a breath before they saunter over seagrass and disappear into the shelter.

In the corner of your vision, Sun and Moon glance down at you, curious with arched brows at you grabbing their hands tighter. You swiftly loosen your hold.

“Do you miss the twilight sea?” you voice quietly to distract from their prying gazes. Immediately, a sharp glance cuts between the brothers.

“No.” Moon tugs you further along. His crimson eyes stay the day ahead with an edge that shines like a hook’s tip.

“Why?” you pry, watching him closely as if you had a chance of revealing what they don’t wish to show. “Not enough pretty fish for you to chase?”

“It’s beautiful here,” Sun says, his voice subdued, reverent. He tilts his rays of venomous spikes as he studies you gently. His blue eyes shimmer. “There’s so much light.”

You find yourself quiet. The tip of your tongue presses against the back of your teeth as you ponder what it would be like to grow up in darkness, barely swimming with others of your kind and scrabbling for scraps of food. Of course, they are natural predators. By all accounts, you and the rest of the sunlight mers are their prey, and for many, many years the only things anyone would believe of them are their wild savagery. No one paused to wonder if they were sentient and deserving of a little bit of safety and light that the Reef offers, until recently.

Then came the gangs and the struggle for power and dominance. Then came Sun and Moon. Then you. Then Eclipse.

You swallow roughly. Rebounding and perking up, you slyly try another tactic.

“What of—”

“We’re almost home and it’s late. Let’s keep our voices down.” It is not a suggestion. The smooth cut of Sun’s voice leaves you with an arch brow and a cheeky grin. Your question was pierced before it left your lips as if he hurled a harpoon at it. Lucky for him you’re feeling generous. For him, you’ll hold back any further inquiries of your two favorite mers’ place of birth.

At the edge of the reef, towards an edge that dips low into the deep blue sea, a shelter crafted of rock lies covered in black and fire coral. An idea of suggesting slipping in through the ceiling dances in the back of your thoughts. In an uncanny prediction, Moon levels you with a glare of warning while Sun holds you tightly before descending into the entry tunnel of their home. They’re no fun.

The main chamber holds a floor of thick, soft alga. A few supplies are stashed in the corners including nets and baskets, each holding precious materials of food and cleaning supplies for instance of scale rot and other unpleasant conditions a mer would not enjoy suffering for a moment longer than necessary. You sweep a glance over the brightly colored sea stars which lie dormant and mute across the walls in the late evening.

You sweep a sultry look between the two.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two are nervous I’m going to slip away.” If only you had a hand free. You would seep a lock of hair over your shoulder and twirl it around your finger.

“Not nervous, just prepared,” Sun suggests in a chary tone, ripe for rebuttal. His fins give a sharp, anticipatory flick. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

Moon holds your gaze. The back of his claw touches the side of your palm and you give a dramatic sign and nod with great grace.

“Since you’re being so polite, starfish,” you hum. Freeing your hand from Sun’s grasp, you set a finger under his chin, admiring how his eyes dilate and turn almost completely white as he tries to stare down at your touch. Tilting his head up until his eyes meet your own, you singsong, “I’ll be good.”

His lips part breathlessly.

You flash a dangerous smile. “For the moment.”

“You need to tell us what you were doing,” Moon growls. The grumble fills you when he tugs on you slightly and presses his tail against yours. His deep blue and silver face looms over you. “What were you doing outside of the Reef?”

You slip naturally into an easy smile. Flicking your fins, you glide against Moon before he releases your pinky finger. His eyes flash a brighter scarlet, if you’re not mistaken, and you’re not. How could he not be affected by the presence of your body? You twist back to face them both. 

“Who, me?” you press both hands to your chest, eyes wide open and innocent. 

Sun says your name, ever-lasting patience running thinner still. He blinks and rubs a hand down his face. In a snap, you realize how exhausted he must be, working so late into the night as he is. 

But he didn’t have to give chase after you slipped into the chasms. Of course, you are worth the lack of sleep he’s getting.

“You have been leaving the Reef more than usual,” Sun tries again. “Is there another gang you’re fighting?”

Oh, perhaps. You’re quite busy, going here to kill some goons and rushing there to stop an innocent sunlight mer from being forced into ‘protection’ by another thug. There’s just never enough sun in the day. It’s a wonderful thing that you have one with you instead.

“My, you two look so handsome when you’re interrogating me,” you simper. You press a finger to your cheek and tilt your head, eyes coquettish swinging between the two sleek and strong mers. “Really, I’m flattered you want to know so much about me.”

Moon scowls. His sharp teeth flash in the darkness, sending your heart into a downward spiral. Sweeping around you with a whip-like motion of his tail, he shadows you like the dark side of the new lunar cycle. 

“If there’s bad mers, you need to let us know.” His harsh rasp brushes the shell of your ear. “You can’t fight everyone. You will slip up.”

You turn to face him, inches between your mouth and his crooked snarl. His eyes betray him and fall down to your lips. You grin.

“I think you’ll find that I am quite amazing,” you lower your voice until it smokes like wintery fog over the sea, “if you haven’t already, squid.” 

Your hand finds his shoulder. The slight twitch of his tail gives away your allure as your fingers tap softly along his collarbone and slide up to his spindly throat. Tracing the strong cords of his neck until you reach his jawbone, you admire the strength he wields. His bite could crush you easily. He wouldn’t, no matter how much he storms and darkens around you.

He slowly takes your hand and presses it closer to the corner of his wide mouth. Slowly, he lays a kiss on your palm.

Sun softly says your name. The water ripples and a few bubbles arise as he slips around you. His tail slides over your own before two pairs of eternal eyes hold you. 

Suddenly, you are small. You are no better than the mer who used to cause mayhem and bloodshed in the Reef just as the twilight zones were earning their welcome among the coral and softer, weaker mers. 

A gang is a gang. It wouldn’t matter in their eyes. You are guilty as sin, and your hands are still red despite all your efforts to wash yourself clean. The Reef deserves better. It will have it. You will give those who are in need justice and those who cause suffering punishment. But now, you hide a dirty fish under your shiny, sparkling veneer. 

You can stay with them, but not for long. They’ll have you as you are now, concerned for your safety and worried about what shoals you swim with but not as you were. 

You will keep your past sunk far, far into the deep.

“You’ve been returning more and more with bruises,” Sun says gently, “And you’re disappearing more and more. We can’t keep you safe if you won’t let us.”

“Safe? That’s precious,” you sweetly hum. Your heart, however, sways gently under Sun’s concerned gaze. “A beautiful thought, truly.”

“You’re going after Eclipse,” Moon states in a flat accusation.

You stare back. The blueness of Sun’s eyes fades until only a pale, concerned color remains. Moon mirrors dark irises, eating up all the light. Your lips crack into a slow, wide smile.

How could they fear their own brother so much? What do they know?

“Why would I ever do such a thing?” You bat your eyelashes. “I would never! Nor would I ever stray too far from the Reef!”

Disregarding today’s chase through the chasm, of course, but you don’t mention that little tidbit out loud. You smile sweetly until Sun sighs a bone-tired sound. Moon’s claws are tighter around your hand for a heartbeat, and you eye him sharply before he lowers your palm from his cheek.

“It’s late,” he says softly.

Victory tastes bittersweet on your tongue as you nod. 

“It is, I should get going before the sun rises and everyone knows what lovely company you keep in the dark—”

The flick of your tail is impeded by two mers taking your arms, guiding you away from the entry tunnel and towards one of the branching paths from the main chamber.

“You should rest here for the night,” Sun decides despite the cheery tone of his suggestion. “There’s no reason for you to be out so late swimming around.”

“You’re tired,” Moon adds with a gentle but firm note upon his tongue. His eyes shimmer like jewels in the dark. “We’ll stay with you tonight.”

“Oh, how gracious, but I’m afraid I have to decline,” you breeze while your eyes fall back to your escape quickly diminishing in the dark.

“We insist,” Moon whispers. His hand on your waist leaves no room for argument. 

Guiding you down a tunnel, small and almost completely dark to your eyes, Sun and Moon take you deeper into their home. A complaint of being netted in their home like some common criminal laces your tongue, but you don’t think they’d disagree with you. Sun glows faintly. Golden bioluminescence offers the slightest aid to your sunlight zone vision and illuminates the room—Sun’s room. 

A bed of moss lies soft and green. Along the ceiling, several soft corals grow in flowing blues pinks, and reds. 

“Taking me to bed, boys?” you draw with a coquettish undertone.

“Only to rest,” Moon gruffly reminds. His scarlet eyes ease when you meet his gaze, and he guides you down, setting you on the resting place like a child. His hands on your waist are strong and steady, and you shiver under the softest scrap of his claws.

“And you need to stay out of trouble.” Sun spares you a knowing look, blue eyes bright in the golden rays of his light. “Just for tonight. Please.”

You rest on your side. Head propped on your hand, tail slightly curled, you conjure a cheeky, rebellious smile at your two favorite mers.

“As lovely as such an evening would be with the darling protectors of the Reef, I’m afraid I’m simply too restless.” Your half-lidded eyes are only for their pleasure and not to suggest an ounce of exhaustion. 

How could you sleep, surrounded by two dishy twilight zone mers? They’ll learn soon enough. No wounds or bruises keep you held down, and without medicines to soothe you into a good night’s rest, you long to be out there, hunting down the scum that poison the Reef with their violence and lust for power.

But your two favorite mers share a look. A dangerous glance whispering of a dastardly plot, and you realize just how outnumbered you are.

“We’ll make you tired,” Moon flashes a sharp, hungry grin of shark teeth. 

“You’ll have sweet dreams,” Sun promises, but even his golden light is alluring, promising a bright golden aquatic flower while hiding a mouth full of fangs. “Come here, sweet fish.”

You feel a shudder running down your spine and into your tailfins, a most curious thing when you’re so used to watching them flounder into flustered messes. Sun slips behind you, resting on the moss beside you. Before you can twist around to face him and protect your back, Moon sinks down and rests a hand on your waist. You freeze, effectively caught between two predators.

“Oh, you boys are ganging up on sweet, little me,” you bemoan. Dramatically, you lift your hand to cover your brow with the back of your head, head falling back in a swoon. “Will I ever be treated right?”

“Hush,” Moon whispers. Your eyes widen slightly when his fingertips trace up your side, evoking a soft shiver over your skin. “Sleep.”

“How can I? There’s simply so much work to do and—” You stifle a soft sound in the back of your throat when Sun draws a hand down your back. Softly tracing the ridges of your spine, he stops on a scar on your lower right side. He circles it gently for a moment.

“I think you’ll find a way,” he gives quietly though with no less cheer.

Sun shifts his tail slightly closer to yours, the flaring end of his fins covering you like sunlight as he dims his bioluminescence until there is only the dimness and your two favorite mers loving on you. The deep blue scales of Moon’s tail rest against your own. Effectively, you are caught between them with the softest caresses and husky, lowered voices to ease you into sleep.

“Lay down.” Moon gives little room for argument when he takes your shoulder. Sun’s hand on your hip pins you gently to the moss, and you stare up at the ceiling, your hands searching through the dark. You are not disappointed. 

Moon leans over you gently. With his free hand, he traces your lips and you’re forced to bite back a sound of content at the gentleness. You yearn for more. A lot more. How freely they give their affection when Sun takes your hair, still tied back in flowing red algae leaves and, of course, their golden seashells, and strokes it softly. His claws card gently over your scalp and your eyelids shudder under the sensitivity it conjures.

You could ask them where they found such precious shells deep in the twilight zone, but they might not tell you. Not now, when they need you to rest. No more than you could confess how addicted you have become to their presence, the light of their bodies, the colors of their eyes. How afraid you are to lose them.

But sweetly, gently, they coax you to forget fears as they rest against you in the darkness. You stifle laughter once when Sun’s hand brushes over your stomach while wrapping his arm around you. Clasped tightly, you understand how clear Sun makes it known: he is not letting you go. Moon moves closer and allows you to rest your head on his arm. He rasps gently against your forehead, bidding you goodnight. His kiss finds your mouth in the darkness, and you hold tightly to him for one moment.

Their traces and petting hands slowly still, falling to simply rest on you, covering you in their presence—perhaps to assure you won’t slip away, but you won’t blame them this time for needing you so terribly.

Exhaustion takes hold. You bask in their warmth and coolness. Tucked so sweetly between them, you dream of their forgiveness for all the blood on your hands. For not yet atoning for all you’ve done.

You fade into dreams of stars and moonlight.

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

I like it when vampires are like werewolves.

People get so bogged down in the classic wealthy victorian vampire aesthetic that the monstrous parts get abstracted. They turn into bats in a poof of smoke. That's not wine in his fancy glass cup wink wink. Drinking blood is sensual and leaves only two perfect fang puncture wounds. Everything is so nice and refined.

Werewolves are allowed to be animalistic. They bite and claw and chew. Their transformations are marred by snapping bones and morphing skulls. They act too feral to be human, even when they look human.

Werewolves and vampires are both driven by instincts. The werewolf is allowed the full range of animal instincts but the vampire is only bound by one: He must feed. In every other way he acts human. This is especially true in the romance genre, where the vampire might be overcome by desire to feed from his paramore. If a vampire is allowed the full range of their monstrosity, either in form or actions, they are delegated to horror stories. You do not see a horrific half man half bat with menbranous wings in twilight. The werewolf is allowed a horrifying transformation while still being the romantic partner.

I just wish there were more vampires who owned their monstrous nature without it being horror you know? Vampires who leave gaping bite marks in their victims necks, who have animal instincts, who are allowed to be a little fucked up actually, who aren't just pretty elves who also happen to drink blood.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 4: Sensory Deprivation

Ao3 link

- Twilight & Time

- Summary: A spell cages Twilight in a realm of nothingness

CW for hallucinations

————————————-

Ever since twilight touched him, his senses have been strong.

The world no longer brushes its gentle fingers against him, distant and meek. Now, it screams, now it assaults him, pummeling his head with the sheer immensity of it all. He can see things, smell things, hear things he never has before.

It is wonderful, useful. It hurts.

But this hurts far worse.

He breathes in, a haggard crescendo of panic. It is the only sound in this place of unending white, the only sensation.

The spell had been excruciating when it hit. An explosion in his body, in his mind, at the strike of a wizzrobe’s rod. That was to be expected though. The sudden onslaught of mind-numbing nothingness was not.

Wild had screamed his name, reached out. Time had spun, black blood flying from his blade, icy terror and fiery fury battling for ownership of his expression. 

Their faces had been the last thing he saw, their voices the last thing he heard. 

Since then, there has only been an endless abyss of white. 

No noise. No feeling. No delicate drifting of differing hues. 

Everything is the same. The madness of it roars in his ears, pounds against the backs of his eyes, sears his flesh. 

He reaches out, retracts his hand as though burnt. There is nothing here to tell him whether or not danger lurks. Nothing to alert him to a swift and deadly plunge.  

To move forward is to risk more than mere injury. 

But…the alternative is to remain motionless, melt into the terrifying dullness, become empty.

He cannot bear to do that.

Especially now that things have begun to change. Twilight doesn’t know how long he has been here. Time is yet another object that cannot exist in a null universe. But other things have begun to take shape.

Dark, monstrous things.

Shadow beasts.

They turn their heads toward him. Twilight’s breath catches in his throat, quickly transforming to a snarl.   

How? How are they here?

He doesn’t have time to ponder. 

They scream. They leap. And when he raises his hand it feels heavier than lead. 

His sword is gone, discarded he knows not where. But he has his arms, his hands, his legs. They have been strengthened and hardened by years of labor beneath a cheery sun, by days of hauling goods and halting the flights of panicked goats, by nights of patrolling with Rusl.

Twilight lashes out, placing all his strength behind a punch aimed at the first beast’s head. His knuckles connect with its maned cranium, and for a mere moment he feels the exhilaration of a successful hit. The rush of relief at the prospect of making it out of another battle alive.

But it is gone as quickly as it comes. His hand slides through.

As though he were clawing at a cloud, the beast dissipates. A dark mist floats forward, envelopes him, flies away. 

Twilight stumbles backward, heart fluttering in his throat, hand still clenched in a fist, brows dipped in confusion. 

What…

“Link!”

The barely-formed question shatters, replaced by the sheer emptiness of terror. He whirls. A name is on his lips.

“Colin!”

Wide eyes stare from a young face. A petite form trapped in the bulk of a moblin’s meaty arm. 

The monster grins at him. His grip constricts.

“No!”

Twilight lunges, aims to tackle the thing to the ground. But once again, he plunges through it, sending the granules of existence to drift away. 

“No, Colin!” He chokes, grasping desperately for the boy. 

After a moment, though, he too, is gone.

“Link?”

Midna.

He would know that voice anywhere. It is imprinted on his consciousness. A burn upon tender flesh.

She reaches for him, he for her, turning so quickly his ankle protests. Their fingers brush and he readies himself for the chill of her twilight-caressed touch. 

But it is not cold. Neither is it warm. She erupts into one million dazzling shards of glass and is gone. 

There is nothing to grasp at except the air. 

Twilight stumbles. His legs give out.

The silence is screaming now, tearing at his mind. 

This isn’t real. 

Another monster forms before him. Everything within him orders him to move, to defend himself. He forces himself to remain in still surrender. Even as his heart pounds and his hands shake, even as tears bud in his eyes, he does not allow himself to budge.

This isn’t real.

Claws rake through the air. He flinches away seconds before they strike his forehead. He can’t help it. Even before he became a hero, his survival instinct was strong.

There was nothing to fear, however. Again, the beast disappears as though it were never there at all.

His breathing has reached the speed of hyperventilation now, his extremities have turned ice cold. At least there is something to feel now, to reassure him that he is real. 

Twilight backs up, waiting for his back to hit a wall, waiting for something to ground him, to lean against and crumple.

He is real, though nothing else here is. He is real. He is…

“Twi! Twilight! Rancher!”

He tries to ignore the voice, tries to shove them away between hiccuped sobs that turn his vision spotty. He needs to calm down, has to, but he’s too far gone now, too far gone and he can’t, damn it he can’t…

And then there are hands on him. Then, there is sunlight. Then, there are more voices, tumbling over one another like a river over rocks. 

A single eye a piercing blue that matches a winter sky stares into his. Worry turns it so sharp that Twilight cannot help but think that if he gets too close he will be cut by it. 

He finds that he is not afraid.

“T-time.” It is a choked gasp, desperate and mournful and questioning. A child crying out to a father. 

Time pulls him close and he buries his head in his shoulder, careless of the cut of his armor plates. It is good to feel something, good to know that he is solid and living and real. 

Something that hurts cannot fade away. 

“Cub, are you alright?”

Twilight means to nod in response to the voice that rumbles like oncoming thunder. But then Time pulls back and cups his face gently, oh so gently, and looks over him again, searching for wounds he will not find…and he ends up shaking his head instead.

Fury joins the fear in the old man’s expression. But he only sees it for a split second before Time draws him into an embrace once more. Twilight curls into it, breathing in his scent, listening to his heartbeat an erratic pattern of panic, feeling his chest rise and fall, hearing the chatter of his brothers rise and wane like waves….

“You’re real,” he whispers. Time holds him tighter. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Tbh grim reminds me of spike from mlp, like both breathe fire, eat gemstones, and can turn into this big monster kind of, and both have like parent figure with them (yuu and twillight)

And they’ll be brought back from their bigger beastly forms with the ✨ Power of Friendship ✨

I think Grim and Spike slot nicely into that archetype of right-hand man. Though they generally play supportive roles, I like that they are their own characters with their own thoughts, feelings, shortcomings, and insecurities. Beyond the superficial (as in, easy to spot/you can physically see it) similarities like them munching on rocks, breathing fire, having more monstrous forms, and having that partnership with Twilight/Yuu, I also think Spike and Grim are similar in terms of their desires.

At a glance, their personalities are notably different. Grim’s much more arrogant and rude, but doesn’t have the skill to back up his confidence. Spike is the more diligent, polite, and capable of the two. However, they’re both ultimately characters who want to prove themselves or to be taken seriously. As a result, may come off as being in a rush to grow up. It’s a charm point they share ^^

[semisolidmind]

Random question that struck me out of nowhere but what do you think of, like, vampires? And I don't mean the hot ones everyone obsesses over, I just mean in the sense that theyre...kind of just parasites 😭🙏 (you'd have to convince me with reasons why I should like one) I know that you're a schmoopy sort of love kind of person but for you, does that still apply to these dudes? Does you even care what the monster is as long as they're lovey dovey

im not a big fan of them overall, but i think they can be fun if you get a lil creative with em

like, the general zeitgeist has sorta adopted the twilight (or if ya wanna go back a bit, the lost boys) trope of "vampires are hot people who drink blood and are sexy," and that's not really my thing.

i have drawn a vampire monster before, but i went the bat-like route. i don't see a lot of vampires that are monstrous without them defaulting to hot person form almost immediately. i get why they're considered one of the sexy monsters (they're the lure and the trap, looking human is part of it), but that's kinda...all they're allowed to be, unless they're a nosferatu type.

eh, i don't mind them if they're a more classic, bat-like monster that's in love with a mortal; but they're nowhere near a favorite for me.

[polishchuk]

Yukio Mishima as Saint Sebastian (60s)/ Guido Reni - Saint Sebastian, 1615

“I was flipping through one of the last pages of a volume. All of a sudden, from the corner of the next page, there flashed before my eyes an image that I had to assume had lurked there for my benefit alone.

It was a reproduction of Guido Reni’s Saint Sebastian, which figures in the collection of Palazzo Rosso in Genoa.

The trunk of the tree of torment, black and slightly oblique, stood out against the Titianesque background of a gloomy forest and a serene sky, gloomy and distant. A young man of singular loveliness stood bound naked to the trunk of the tree, his arms drawn up, and the straps that clasped his crossed wrists were fastened to the tree itself. No ties of any other kind were discernible, and the only covering of the young man’s nakedness consisted of a rough white cloth that loosely wrapped around his loins.

I imagined that it was a description of a Christian martyrdom. But since it was due to a painter of the eclectic school derived from the Renaissance, even from this painting depicting the death of a Christian saint exuded a strong aroma of paganism. The young man’s body - one could even compare it to that of Antinous, Hadrian’s favorite, whose beauty was so often immortalized in sculpture - bears no trace of the hardships or exhaustion derived from missionary life, which imprint the effigy of other saints: instead, this one uniquely manifests the springtime of youth, uniquely light and pleasure and gracefulness.

That white and incomparable nudity of hers sparkles against a background of twilight. His sinewy arms, the arms of a praetorian accustomed to flex his bow and brandish his sword, are raised in a harmonious curve, and his wrists cross immediately above his head. The face is turned slightly upward and the eyes are wide open, contemplating the glory of heaven with deep tranquility. It is not suffering that hovers over the expanded chest, the taut abdomen, the barely twisted lips, but a flicker of melancholy pleasure like music. Were it not for the arrows with their points stuck in his left armpit and right hip, he would rather look like a Roman athlete relieving fatigue in a garden, leaning against a dark tree.

Arrows have plunged into the heart of the young, pulpy, fragrant flesh, and are about to consume the body from within with flames of heartbreak and supreme ecstasy. But the blood is not gushing out; the swarm of arrows seen in other paintings of St. Sebastian’s martyrdom has not yet raged. Here instead, two lone arrows send their quiet and delicate shadows over the smoothness of the skin, similar to the shadows of a branch falling on a marble staircase.

But all these interpretations and discoveries came later.

That day, the moment I glimpsed the painting, my whole being quivered with pagan joy. My blood roiled in my veins, my loins swelled almost in an emptiness of rage. The monstrous part of me that was close to exploding waited for me to use it with unprecedented ardor, rebuking my ignorance, gasping in outrage. My hands, not at all unconsciously, began a movement I had never learned. I felt something secret, something radiant, launching itself rattily to the assault from within. It erupted suddenly, bringing with it a blinding intoxication....

Some time elapsed and then, in a desolate mood, I looked around at the desk I stood in front of. Outside the window a maple tree was casting a vivid glare everywhere -- on the ink bottle, on school books and notebooks, on the dictionary, on the image of St. Sebastian. Splashes of a dim whiteness appeared here and there - on the title in gold letters of a textbook, on the margin of the inkwell, on an edge of the dictionary. Some objects dripped lazily, others glowed with a dim gleam like the eyes of a dead fish. Fortunately, a reflexive movement of my hand to protect the figure had prevented the volume from soiling.

That was my first ejaculation. And it was also the clumsy and totally unplanned beginning of my “bad habit.”

–Yukio Mishima “Confessions of a Mask”