#most fanfics aren't

[ekat-fandom-blog]

"It was retconned," they say.

"That only happened in an alt universe and not in the actual canon," they say.

"That happened in an alternate timeline, not in the current canon timeline," they say.

Fuck your retconned, alt-universe, alt-timeline, not canon bullshit. It is the version that made the most impact on me so it is part of my personal canon that I have built using scraps of what I've been given. You can disagree all you want with how I choose to write the characters I've used in my fanfics, but know that what I write is not written with you personally in mind.

"That's not how that character was characterized in this show/comic/movie that you're using as a basis," they say.

Guess what? I observed what they did in that media and extrapolated based on my own personal experiences and biases. I formed my own opinion and sometimes that opinion is skewed drastically based on who I think the character is most similar to among those I have close relationships with. Some characteristics struck a chord and stuck with me, others didn't. I'm not rewatching/rereading something I do not have time to find in order to make things fucking canon compliant.

[anto-pops]

Bitter Truths - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Following the revelation that Sebastian has gone back to dabbling in the Dark Arts, you end things with him and try your hardest to stand firm in the decision. He has no intention of making things easy for you, however, and he’ll manipulate any situation to his advantage if it means getting you back on his side.

Even if that means manipulating you.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, dark!Sebastian, emotional manipulation, explicit sexual content

Full fic is also up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure

You weren’t sure who you hated more. Professor Sharp for refusing to hear you out following the disaster in potion’s class, or your idiot of an ex-boyfriend for causing said disaster in the first place. 

There was absolutely no reason for it either. Even though the two of you hadn’t talked in a week, you liked to think you were familiar with his tendencies in school. Helping Garreth with his obscure, insane ideas had never been something Sebastian made a habit of doing, which just left you all the more frustrated. 

He had clearly landed you both in trouble intentionally. 

Following your fifth-year, you had dutifully stayed firm in your boundary that if Sebastian so much as glanced at anything pertaining to the Dark Arts, you would cut your losses and leave him to deal with the consequences. For too long, you had wallowed in self-pity at the blatant way you had let him take advantage of your kindness, manipulating you into helping him essentially get away with murder. The broody persona he had returned to Hogwarts with your sixth-year had led you to believe that he wouldn’t listen, but he had proven you wrong. Bending over backwards to get on your good side, you had eventually relented and let him back into your life, and that inch given quickly turned into a mile earned when both of you started dating.

After making it through the entire year without a glimpse of his former habits, you had mistakenly assumed your final year of school would be much the same. For the most part it had been– until last week, apparently. 

You had found Salazar Slytherin’s spell book in his dorm. 

It had been well hidden, too; charmed to look like an ordinary textbook, then wrapped in one of his old scarfs and stuffed at the bottom of his trunk. Call it a gut feeling, but you had known something was going on with Sebastian even before finding the book he’d sworn up and down he had destroyed years prior. He would stay out well past curfew, coming back looking anxious and worn down. The far off look in his eyes you had seen towards the end of your fifth-year had returned, along with the dark circles under his eyes that told you he wasn’t sleeping much, if at all. 

Most damning of all had been his three day absence from school. Sebastian had said the Ministry had summoned him to London to finally sign over the deed to Solomon’s old house in Feldcroft to him. An innocent enough excuse, and a believable one when it had been relayed to the Headmaster and to the faculty… but not to you. 

Sebastian wanted nothing to do with that house. He had told you so himself numerous times. 

So why was it that when he’d returned to Hogwarts after those three days, the barely there scent of Dark Magic accompanied him?

Gaslighting yourself into believing that you were imagining things had been difficult, but you’d managed to convince yourself that it wasn’t real– that the rotting, smokey scent that had clung to his clothes for that brief moment was a trick of the wind. But then you’d found the book.

After throwing that stupid spell book in his face and swearing at him with every curse-word that existed, you’d followed through on your promise to him. You ended things then and there, too angry and too irrational to even take the time to hear him out when he’d begged you to. 

“Please just listen to me! It’s not what you think, darling, I swear. I was only–”

“I don’t give a damn, Sebastian!” If looks could kill, the glare you shot his way would have had him collapsing on the spot. “I don’t need to hear the lies or the justifications. You lied to me. You told me you were done with this shit, but apparently that was a fat load of crap. I can’t even look at you right now.” 

Turning away from him to reach for the door handle, you yelped in alarm when his arm shot past your head to hold the exit shut. You spun around, eyes wide with shock and anger, and met his stormy, frantic gaze. He was unrecognizable; his chest heaved violently as he drew in quick breaths one after another, and his mouth was drawn in a tight line across his face. Coiled tighter than a spring, you worried that he would snap with you in his crosshairs, and that thought induced a kind of fear that you hadn’t felt since your fifth-year. 

“You need to let me explain,” he grit through his teeth. You heard his nails scrape against the wood of the door as his hand curled into a tight fist, and the sound snapped you out of your momentary stupor. 

Planting your hands squarely against his chest, you shoved him away with the strength of a Troll, sending him stumbling back towards the middle of the empty dorm with a look of disbelief etched across his face. “No,” you turned back for the door, wrenching it open and flinging it behind you as you stepped into the hallway. “I don’t.”

He had tried and failed to speak to you since then, but you had gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. You found yourself sitting with Poppy and Natty during mealtimes, and you’d skipped a few classes altogether to spare yourself the torment of having him try anything there. If your friends knew something was wrong with you, they didn’t comment on it, and you were immensely grateful for their willful obliviousness. 

Unfortunately for you, however, you had underestimated Sebastian’s ability to manipulate situations to his advantage. 

Even after two years, Garreth hadn’t stopped concocting his… unique brews. It was a gamble to walk into Professor Sharp’s class and assume that nothing would blow up in his face that day. You knew it, the Professor knew it, everyone knew it. 

So why Sebastian had seemingly gone out of his way to help Garreth this time around told you enough about his unwillingness to let you go quietly. 

There was no way of knowing what he had given Weasley to add to his Restorative Drought at the beginning of class, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. The exchange had transpired right before you eyes, and whatever thick goop Garreth had dumped into his cauldron had caused an explosion that put all his past fuck-ups to shame. Instantly the room had filled with a pungent gas that was so foul and nauseating, Natty had been forced to run out into the hallway to expel her lunch from her stomach. In the midst of your own gagging you had pulled out your wand to cast Ventus, a wind charm that collected the bulk of the gas into a concentrated funnel that was then directed towards the open window in a bid to clear the room. 

Your plan would have worked… had Professor Sharp not blocked the magically condensed jet of putrid air with his face. 

To say he’d been angry would be a monumental understatement. The palpable rage that had radiated from him was a deadly sort; simmering beneath the surface, powerful, and silent. He had wasted little time after that in docking you, Garreth, and Sebastian fifty house points each before sending the three of you away to detention for the evening. 

Garreth would have attended… had he not gotten violently ill following the debacle. He hadn’t even made it down the hall outside the room before folding over on himself and vomiting profusely all over the floor. Evidently he had taken the brunt of the eruption and was left to cope with the aftereffects. You didn’t envy him. 

Nurse Blainey had apparently promised that her patient would make up the detention as soon as he was done throwing up the contents of his stomach, which had ultimately left you stuck in Professor Weasley’s classroom alone with the current bane of your existence. 

You knew it was pure chance that Garreth was unable to sit in detention with the two of you, but for some reason you were convinced that Sebastian had seamlessly orchestrated the whole thing. 

The bastard was probably feeling awfully smug about it, too.

Sebastian sat at the table furthest from you, boring holes into the side of your head that you were doing your damnedest to ignore. The only thing that likely kept him from outright trying to speak to you was Professor Weasley anally watching the two of you like a hawk in-between grading reports. She had already scolded the life out of you both, taking additional time to chastise Sebastian, because apparently she had seen him in detention “far too many times this semester”. Yet another thing he had kept from you, evidently. It didn’t even seem like he had taken the reprimanding to heart if his slack posture and disinterested expression was anything to go by, but you were too angry to pay it any mind. 

This was shaping up to be the longest three hours of your fucking life. 

The chipped wood on the edge of the desk continued to captivate your attention in favor of meeting the brunet’s unrelenting stare. Your jaw ached from how hard you’d been clenching your molars together, and your leg had cramped up twice now from bouncing it to rid yourself of the jitters that plagued you. You were prepared for the bulk of the detention to continue like that; slowly, suffocated by a tense silence, and wholly uncomfortable. That is, until the door to the classroom was thrown open rather aggressively. 

Looking up from your desk, you watched as a nurse from the Hospital Wing barreled through the entryway, her hair disheveled beneath her bonnet and her glasses crooked atop her nose. She sucked in a sharp breath before straightening herself out and saying, “Matilda– I’m so sorry. Nurse Blainey asked me to fetch you. Your nephew is… well, he’s in quite the state.”

Professor Weasley took her own glasses off to pinch the bridge of her nose, heaving a heavy sigh before muttering, “Merlin, that boy will be the death of me, I swear. Is he alright?” 

“He’s– well…” the nurse trailed off, nervously wringing her hands together as she searched for the right words. “He’s alive, but whatever he added to that potion is causing some… concerning side effects. He has four arms and quite a few extra toes presently.” 

“He what?” Professor Weasley abruptly swiveled her head in Sebastian’s direction, fixing him with an incredulous look that he had the good grace to shrink at. “What exactly did you give him to add to that potion?” 

Stubbornly, you watched through your peripheral vision as Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly before murmuring, “Just troll bogeys. He didn’t tell me what he was trying to accomplish with them, though.” 

Pointedly, Professor Weasley rose from her seat and walked around her desk, brushing a few wrinkles out of her skirt as she strode for the door. “I’ll save my questions about how you got your hands on such a thing for after I get back. In the meantime, don’t even think about going anywhere. Both of you.” 

You could only furrow your brow indignantly before she had turned her attention back to the nurse. The woman spun on her heel to lead the way without a second glance, and as soon as the massive door clicked shut behind them, your heart sank into your feet. 

You were alone. With him. 

An uncomfortable feeling emanated from within the room, the air ripe with tension thick enough to cut with a knife. It took everything in you to keep your eyes averted at your desk before deciding to simply put your head down against the wood. If Professor Weasley was bound to be preoccupied in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the evening, you could at least catch some shut eye in the meantime. The events from the last week had taken a toll on you mentally, and you were beyond eager to wrap up the day so you could fall into your bed and sleep. 

It couldn’t have been thirty seconds before you felt the table jostle as the culprit of your misfortune made himself comfortable next to you, and with your face still hidden in the crook of your arm, you pursed your lips in blatant distaste. 

Maybe if you pretended to be asleep, he would give up? There was no way he actually thought that there was a conversation to be had after everything he had done. Aside from a handful of inappropriate, choice words that were unbecoming of a lady, you had nothing to say to him. 

Evidently, it seemed that Sebastian thought otherwise. 

“We need to talk.” 

Merlin– even though you had heard his voice around school in the last seven days, having it directed at you while he used that deep, commanding tenor was another thing entirely. A weak, naive part of you was inclined to listen, but you stubbornly burrowed your face deeper into your arm and somehow pressed your lips together even harder. No, you thought, we don’t. 

“Either you talk to me now while we’re finally alone in here, or I’ll drag you to the Undercroft afterwards. Willingly or not.”

At that, you sat up to glare incredulously at him. The unmistakable conviction in his voice and the obstinate tilt to his chin confirmed that he wasn’t lying in the slightest, and he crossed his arms over his chest as though daring you to call his bluff. 

He wouldn’t…

“I would,” he countered your thoughts with narrowed eyes, which in turn resulted in another unamused glare from you. “I’d be an idiot not to try when you’re finally in a position to listen. Especially considering you’ve avoided me like the plague all week.” 

The audacity of this man. How dare he make you out to be some heartless villain. His status as a pariah in your eyes was his own doing, directly caused by the steady flow of manipulations and lies that had dripped from his lips for who knew how long. You had given him another chance after everything, and what did you have to show for it now? Nothing but an aching heart and enough resentments to last a lifetime. 

“And whose fault is that?” you snapped, every word laced with venom. “Your priorities were made abundantly clear to me after you lied straight to my face. How long did you think you could keep it from me, hm? Did you think I was too stupid to notice, or did toeing the line right in front of me excite you somehow? You’re not allowed to be upset that your actions had consequences.” 

As you sucked down a breath and fixed Sebastian with a hard, unyielding look, he stared at you oppressively. His mouth pressed together as he processed your words. Whether it was what you had said that left him speechless or the fact that you had said anything to him at all, you didn’t know. Regardless, he took a second too long to reply, which gave you the chance to click your tongue disapprovingly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Sebastian. Go back to your seat before you land us in more trouble.”

At that moment, it was as if he had been doused with chilled water. Sebastian snapped out of his stupor and frowned, his back straightening as he gathered his resolve once more. “I beg to differ, I have plenty to say. We haven’t even scratched the surface of what needs to be said–”

“Nothing needs to be said!” you blurted, your steely resolve crumbling ever so slightly. This wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. To spit in the face of his pleading and remain firm in your refusal to hear him out. He sounded so… desperate. More than that, his words were tinged with unmistakable sincerity. Some internal part of you writhed in agony as you ignored your heart and forced out, “I don’t care, Sebastian. I’m tired. I gave you plenty of chances before and you’ve officially squandered every last one. I can’t do this with you– not now, not ever.” 

The telling sting of tears welling in your eyes had you averting your gaze to the door, silently praying for Professor Weasley to come back, because you were being made acutely aware of how difficult it was to keep this up. You had given Sebastian nearly two years of your life. You had loved him– you still loved him– but you didn’t think you had the strength to go down this path with him again. The Dark Arts had brought the two of you nothing but misery, and for him to go back to it after all this time not only infuriated you, it saddened you. 

He had done so well for himself. He had changed, wholly and truly. Even Ominis had let him back into his life after a grueling six months of pleading. But for him to pull all of this on you a second time… 

How did the saying go? Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice…

You were tired of being tricked. 

The sudden feeling of Sebastian’s hand skimming down your spine had your head swiveling back towards him in a flash. Your arm flew up to knock him away, but he anticipated the move and caught your wrist with his other hand, coiling his fingers around the limb to lock you in his grip. Through the well of tears in your eyes, you watched as he brought your trapped hand to his mouth, pressing a chaste, gentle kiss to the inside of your palm before nuzzling you affectionately. The motion was so tender– so adoring– that you couldn’t help but watch him completely dumbstruck. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the skin of your hand. Kissing you again, his dark eyes flicked back to meet yours, “I’m sorry for lying. I should have been honest from the start. There’s no one else I trust more in this world than you, you know that, right?” 

The hand on your back took to tracing languid shapes against your blouse, inching its way lower towards the waistline of your skirt, and your breath hitched in your throat as you hastily wiped away an errant tear that slipped down your cheek. You eyed him warily and curled your fingers in the hand he still held, but he made no move to pull away. “You should have done a lot of things, Sebastian. But you can’t change the past. You messed up, and I need you to accept that.” 

“But what if I could?” He spoke the words in a low voice, then tilted his head down so he was gazing at you through his dark lashes. The look… it was predatory. Animalistic, in a way. It scared you that you even began to find the expression intriguing. Moreover, you had no clue what it was he meant… but you wanted to. 

“What if you could what?” 

“What if I could change the past?” Your brows furrowed in alarm, but Sebastian ignored your wary countenance and slid to the edge of his seat so he was mere inches from you. The hand on your back reached the tucked hem of your shirt, his fingers brazenly sneaking beneath the material to trail his touch up your bare back, and despite your reservations, you couldn’t help but shudder. “What if I could use power no one has ever dreamed of? What if I was close to uncovering magic that could make anything possible? Dark or not, it’s magic. It was created for a purpose. What’s so wrong with using it? It’s a tool, same as all spells… it would be wasteful to bury it just because the Ministry says so.”

“But–” his fingers skimmed over your brassiere, toying with the metal clasps that held it in place with a look of mischievousness glimmering in his eyes. Unwilling to back down, however, you forced the rest of your retort from your lips. “It’s not just the Ministry that says so, it’s history. Look at Isidora–”

Sebastian tugged on the hand he still had clasped in his own, drawing you into his space so suddenly that you gasped softly. He let go of your wrist to cup your cheek, leaning in more until he was so close that you could see your own reflection in his eyes. “Isidora’s problem was that she lacked conviction. She was motivated, sure, but she still sought approval from the wrong people. Those Keepers became a vise of her own making. She was never going to get anywhere with her abilities so long as she waited for their consent.” 

You had a feeling you knew where he was going with this. A bad feeling. 

“But you?” His eyes jumped between your own, flicking down at your lips every so often as he slipped two of his fingers under the strappy attire beneath your blouse. “You could be so much better than her. You can control your powers with so much more finesse than she ever could, and together we could unlock untold secrets about magic. Think about it, darling. You and me, unearthing troves of hidden knowledge. What’s the harm in that?” 

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. The miniscule distance between the two of you vanished in a heartbeat as Sebastian closed in, and your words were stolen from you as his lips crushed against yours with an intensity that muddled your thoughts. You weren’t an idiot– you knew this was his way of distracting you from everything; his lies, the spell book, the utterly incomprehensible bombshell he had just dropped on you. In prime Sebastian fashion, he had disarmed you completely and reduced you to putty in his hands, your previous anger momentarily forgotten as he probed around your mouth with his tongue. 

It was entirely too predictable… but you would be lying if you said it wasn’t addicting. You had missed him. You didn’t think you would ever stop loving him– his faults be damned. 

The fact that the two of you were in Professor Weasley’s classroom barely mattered to you– especially not when the hand on your back finally undid the clasps of your brassiere with a dexterity that enticed you far more than was healthy. With that out of the way, Sebastian dragged the limb out from under your shirt and wrapped both arms around your midsection, continuously devouring the tiny sounds you made with his mouth as he hoisted you out of your chair and deposited you roughly on the desk. 

It was positively frantic. The hurried pulling of clothes and the panted breaths exchanged in-between kisses made it seem like the two of you had been apart for years instead of one measly week. You were still angry with him for lying, and you were worried about what indulging him now would mean for the two of you later down the line… but for the time being, you didn’t care. Sebastian was your vise, and you were certain that no matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to bring yourself to be rid of him. 

You were left to hold yourself steady as Sebastian let go of you to tug at his belt, his teeth biting and pulling at your bottom lip harshly as he drew away briefly to flick the leather aside and undo the catch of his pants. He pulled his cock from the confines of his briefs hastily, stroking himself furiously with one hand as the other blindly gathered your skirt into a disheveled heap below your navel. The ferocity with which he yanked your undergarments down your legs made you gasp, and as soon as those were pulled down past your thighs, he went right back to swallowing up the delicious sounds you made. 

Without breaking away, Sebastian dragged you towards the edge of the desk and lifted one of your thighs up, holding it firmly to his hip as he bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing cunt. The growing wetness there made the teasing slide of his tip through your folds positively heavenly for both of you, and you felt arousal curling in the pit of your stomach when the man before you growled. 

He broke away from your swollen lips with a shaky exhale, and you blinked up at him as you took in the ravenous expression that adorned his handsome face. Flushed cheeks, messy hair, and a lustful, wanton gleam in his dark, bottomless eyes. It was all for you, you realized dimly. 

It was one of the worst ideas you had ever had, but you decided to be greedy. If he was going to offer, then you were going to take. 

You adjusted your weight so you were supporting yourself up with one hand while your other flew to the back of Sebastian’s neck. If the feeling of your nails digging into his skin was unpleasant, he definitely didn’t care, seeing as he groaned appreciatively when you dragged his lips back to yours. It was all a flurry of tongue and teeth as the two of you shamelessly rutted like animals atop the desk, until he finally moved his hips to press into your sopping wet entrance, and the stretch was as delectable as it was jarring. 

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter against your lips. The fingers he had wrapped around your thigh dug into your flesh, the incredible feeling of your warm, pulsing walls enveloping him making him shudder with delight. “I love you. I love you so much, you know?” 

You nodded brainlessly, still processing the feeling of him breaching you. “I love you too. You’re everything to me, Sebastian. I–” 

His hips jerked forward at the declaration, making you cry out against your better judgement, and even though being noisy was quite possibly the worst choice either one of you could make, Sebastian seemed to relish in the sound. In a split second, he had you laid out on your back across the desk, tightening his grip on your leg with a strength you knew would leave bruises. He shook his head as he chuckled to himself, then fixed his sights on you as he began to pump his hips with a tenacity that left you breathless. Your spine arched off the wooden surface as he worked to set a brutal pace, his lust-dark eyes watching you rapaciously as your mouth fell open around a long, drawn out moan. 

“We were made for each other,” you heard him state gruffly. Your other leg was swiftly lifted and tossed over his shoulder, spreading you open for him so obscenely that you knew you would never be able to attend class here with a straight face ever again. The new position gave him the freedom to press his broad hand against your lower stomach as well, applying ample pressure so he could feel the head of his cock spearing into the deepest parts of you. It felt surreal– it was mind-boggling– and you were certain that you broke your nails when you instinctively dragged your fingers along the desk. “Two sides of the same coin, darling. That’s what we are. You’re mine, and I’m all yours. Only yours. You believe me, right?” 

Getting your tongue to work was next to impossible, so your acknowledgement came out sounding like more of a garbled wheeze. Sebastian only laughed at your fucked-out state, moving his hand from your stomach up your torso, shoving your undone brassiere out of the way to roughly squeeze one of your breasts in his warm palm. The intensity of his thrusts kicked up then, and he took to grinding his balls against the swell of your ass with every deep, aggressive plunge of his cock. 

Through your hazy vision, you saw as his head tipped forward between his shoulders, the pleasure he derived from fucking you on the desk taking him to new heights. You were inclined to think similarly, because for some unfathomable reason, the threat of the Professor walking in at any moment only added to the rush of ecstasy that coursed through your veins. 

The force of Sebastian’s thrusts made your arm shake as you lifted it from the desk, planting it squarely over your clit so you could rub aggressive, desperate little circles over it. The instant gratification had you groaning loud, your voice echoing off the walls of the classroom and dragging Sebastian’s attention back to you. He wrenched his hand apart from your breast to snatch yours away from your bundle of nerves, then pinned the limb to the desk beside your head. 

He leaned in close to your face, bending your leg so far back that the sinful sound of his hips slapping against your wet skin amplified tenfold. It was equal parts embarrassing and erotic, and you mewled pitifully as he smirked and proclaimed, “That’s my job, darling.” 

You were about to say that you didn’t care whose job it was, so long as it was a job that got done– but his calloused thumb planting itself over the nub interrupted your snide comment, replacing it instantly with a quivering moan that had him twitching inside of you. Entirely at his mercy as he pounded into you, the rapid flicking he bestowed upon your clit brought you closer to that blissful edge you yearned to fall over. The fire in your gut burned hotter, your senseless noises got raspier, and in turn Sebastian’s hold on you became possessive. 

He watched you unblinkingly, waiting for you to reach your peak with rapt focus, and all you could do was meet his unwavering stare as your climax finally washed over you. Your mouth fell open as a choked groan escaped your hoarse throat, and Sebastian swiftly released your thigh to cover your mouth with his hand, muffling the noises enough so that the sanctity of your activities wouldn’t be broadcasted to anyone nearby. 

You were hardly of a mind to care– you were seeing stars. Everything around you flashed white as you trembled uncontrollably beneath him, your muscles tensing and your walls sucking him in impossibly deeper. A rumbling groan sounded from him as he fucked you through all of it, only deigning to increase his pace once he felt you go lax under him, and then it didn’t take long for him to follow you over that edge. He repeated your name over and over again as he came, bottoming out into your soaked cunt as he emptied himself deep within your walls, those predatory eyes of his sliding shut for the briefest of moments. 

It was hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that; coiled around one another as you both worked to control your breathing. Sebastian’s hand slipped away from your mouth, granting you the ability to suck down deep, steadying gulps of air, and shortly thereafter you felt him trail his fingers down your sides soothingly. 

Through the post-coital haze that clouded your mind, you found yourself staring at him as he stood straight and pulled out of your brutalized folds. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly, scanning your flushed body beneath him with a sort of unbridled longing that left you feeling exposed. 

Where did the two of you go from here? What was next? 

Wordlessly, Sebastian helped you sit up, huffing out a laugh when your forehead thumped against his chest weakly. He took it upon himself to fix up your clothes, tucking your shirt back into your wrinkled skirt before carefully bending down to drag your underwear back up your boneless legs. You had to shift a little to help him get them on properly, but your head stayed firmly planted against him the entire time. 

A hand on your neck roused you from your hiding spot, and you cautiously tipped your head back to look up at him through your lashes. Sebastian stared down at you with a hopeful expression on his face– something else akin to excitement shadowing the look. “Do you trust me?” 

That was one hell of a loaded question… especially following everything that had transpired throughout the week. You mulled it over quietly, choosing your words carefully before opting to say, “I want to.”

He sighed and brought his other hand to your cheek, cupping your face in his clammy palms as he nodded. “Okay. No more secrets. No more lies. I swear to you, from here on out, you’ll get nothing but the truth from me.” He waited to see if you would push him away or refute the statement, but you didn’t. You just pursed your lips, hesitating only briefly before nodding. It seemed pointless to call his bluff right now. “Would you come with me? To do all the things I told you about?”

From outside the classroom, you could suddenly hear the sound of muffled voices approaching. Professor Weasley had to be returning from the Hospital Wing, and the two of you were still in a very precarious position. One that was guaranteed to land you in more trouble than you could fathom. 

Sebastian jerked your face back towards him, forcing your eyes to return to his as he looked at you with sheer desperation. “Would you?” he reiterated urgently. 

“I–” you gingerly lifted your hands to hold his wrists, opening and closing your mouth as you worked to formulate words. “I don’t know, Sebastian. It’s a scary prospect, and so many things could go wrong–” 

“Not if we work together,” he insisted, chancing a quick look at the massive doorway. The voices and footsteps from outside were getting louder, and you got the distinct impression that Sebastian thought that you were running out of time. He looked back at you, eyes burning, “If we do this together– as a team– there’s so much we could accomplish. You and me against the world, darling. We can bring in a new era of magic that no one has ever dreamed of. You just have to trust me.” 

It was terrifying to consider. It was balmy and likely to end in the worst of ways. You were both still so young– still figuring out where you stood in a world run by magic. Your shared, tumultuous past with Sebastian had barely opened your eyes to the surface of what your abilities could do. Of that, you were certain. Part of you was afraid to traverse that path once again and run the risk of something worse than Solomon transpiring. 

But another, much stronger part of you was curious to test your limits. Sebastian wasn’t wrong; Isidora’s magic was ripe with potential, and if he really did mean to help you along the way… 

If you couldn’t convince him to veer away from the path he had chosen, the least you could do was walk it with him. Maybe doing so would prove beneficial… or maybe it wouldn’t. There was no way of knowing for certain. 

“I do trust you,” you said plainly, the weight of the statement settling over the two of you like a blanket of iron. Despite your reasoning behind saying the words, you still couldn’t help but feel like you’d just signed a deal with the devil. 

He smiled at you then, the sight blinding when coupled with the excitement that glimmered in his captivating, brown eyes. Your grip on his wrists tightened a fraction, and Sebastian used your own hold on him to tug you off the desk and into his arms in one, swift motion. “Then hold on tight, darling.” 

It should have been impossible– and the implications of the action left your mind reeling– but in the next second, a deafening crack sounded all around the two of you and echoed off the walls of the classroom. You had no clue where he was apparating you to, nor did you know how he had managed to even do it while on school grounds, but you knew that you trusted him to keep you safe. 

From here on out, you had to trust him. You realized, through the roar of magic that flooded your ears, that there was no other choice. 

[toyouhellohowareyou]

Beloved, beautiful Seyph (Instagram) has done fanart for my LU fic Four and After

And I don't know if you've noticed, but it's ✨AMAZING✨

[necrotic-nephilim]

@profandomhopper i was going to reblog the original post this comment was left on but i felt it divorced itself from the original topic so much, you get your own post for giving me delightful permission to ramble about this. buckle in people this is long.

so, DC is a big fandom that expanses a lot of different types of content, and like anything, is subject to crossovers. the obvious ones like Marvel are for the reason of being a similar and equally popular superhero world, so it's easy to transpose the worlds onto each other and overlap the characters. both of these worlds deal with multiverses and endless, endless heroes. it makes sense and there's no real stretch to think Batman and Spider-Man could co-exist. i mean, there have been canon crossover comics. and even some more random crossovers like White Collar have pretty easy to trace origins, being an actor in WC was a popular Dick fancast back in the day so there was some bleeding over that led to a well-loved niche crossover space.

but Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug are where it gets interesting. because at a surface, MLB sort of makes sense. it's a superhero world, you're following a teen girl superhero and sure the mechanics are pretty contained, but the crossover should make sense. but when you compare it to the crossover numbers of other superhero media like say My Hero Academia, Ladybug takes the *crown* with such a bizarre popularity. and of course, DP feels like it makes even less sense. sure, you *could* lump it into at the very least, superhero-adjacent media, but it's not a true hero world like MLB or DC is.

but, the thing to always understand about DC, *especially* the Batfamily (which is where the crossover content propagates the most) is this: a *very* good chunk of fans don't interact with the comics. i would venture to say even most Batfamily fans don't read the comics and actively talk about it. we've all read a very fandom big Batfam fanfic where the author's note mentions the writer has never touched a comic in their life. typically, these fans are either cobbling together their understanding from fandom content, or by frankensteining unrelated DC adaptations to understand each character. you take Bruce from Batman: TAS, you take Dick from the animated Young Justice, you take Jason from Batman: Under The Red Hood animated movie, you take Damian from the DCAMU Batman vs Robin, and you read some fandom metas to fill in the rest and well, you've got some sort of an understanding of these characters. read enough incorrect quotes, some genfic, a couple of character metas, and boom, you understand the Batfamily fandom enough to start creating your own content. and of course now. now you have Wayne Family Adventures so it's even *easier*. a pretty easy to pick up webtoon that's filling in all the gaps for you. but i've been in this fandom long enough to remember before we had WFA and even then, this was still a common, if not the most popular way, to ween yourself into the DC fandom space. you cherry-picked the canon you liked and then plunged into the depths of fanon.

i'm not here to make in depth commentary on if i think this is a good or bad thing. trust me i have that commentary in my head, but that would need it's own post. i'm very split on it and my feelings are complicated. my feelings on WFA are even *more* complicated. because oftentimes, the attitude expressed by these fans who are frankensteining this version of the Batfamily/DC world they have in their head is they don't *want* to read the comics. the comics don't contain the content they're after. and to an extent, i understand that. if you're looking for light-hearted vibes of the Batfamily all getting along and having the occasional hurt/comfort moments but in the end, they hug and make up, you're right. largely, you won't find that in canon. of course there are so many comics to recommend for Batfamily interactions, but you have to get specific. you'll find them interacting in small groups, Tim and Dick bonding here, Duke and Cass bonding there, but largely, the comics don't care to balance the ridiculously large cast they've given themselves. but fandom does. it's easy to toss them all in a blender and ignore the parts you don't like. the default argument to ignoring the comics or writing something OOC is always "well the comics are OOC and inconsistent too" which, while a flawed argument that massively misunderstand how comics work as a medium, isn't an entirely incorrect one. you could serve on a silver platter to these fans, an easy and accessible way to get into comics and they wouldn't be interested. it's not what they're here for. fandom is always character-driven above all else. it's driven by character relationships and dynamics. if someone wants to consume content where Tim idolized and stalked Jason as 'his Robin' and now is trying to help him rehabilitate and they're super complicated but have this long epic forgiveness arc, why *would* they read the comics? because they're sure as shit not going to find that dynamic in the comics. it's laughably OOC and not canon at all, but that doesn't matter. what matters is the sandbox. most Batfamily fans care *far* more about the sandbox canon gives them than the actual canon itself. feel how you feel about that, this really isn't being negative toward that attitude, but it is a common attitude.

so, you have Batfamily fans playing in the sandbox and building their own narrative. common fandom headcanons are so common, you could practically write a guide on how the fanon Batfamily works with how consistent people are about it. or you could just read WFA, which is practically the new manifesto of it. even now, with this sudden spike in people talking about canon accuracy and "actually this happening in the comics", they don't actually care about the comics, just what they can cherry-pick for fodder. (even if they rob it of so much context they're just as OOC as they were before. see specifically: the recent phenomena with Tim Drake going from the woobified weakest member of the Batfam who everyone needs to save constantly and he's the smart boy but he's also the one with a sad tragic neglectful past who gets overlooked being the way Batfamily fandom played with Tim for years. but recently, people seem to be pushing this idea of a ridiculously badass Tim, Tim who *totally* has a kill count because of his actions in RR (2009) if you take them completely out of context, Tim who bested Ra's and is even more badass than Jason and he's the 17 yr old CEO of Wayne Industries being cool and flawless it becoming the new fandom zeitgeist. neither of these versions of Tim are canon, and the second fundamentally misunderstands his arc in RR (2009) but the shift has undeniably happened and it's been fascinating to watch. the same thing happened with people suddenly deciding Jason isn't the "angry violent Robin", he was a sunshine sweet boy who was perfect as Robin. neither of these are true, but the second feels more transgressive and new to fandom from cherry-picked panels.) the point is largely, Batfamily fans would rather build their own canon than play with the actual canon.

and then, you have Danny Phantom. i'm not into DP and have no interest to get into it, but what i know about it via fandom osmosis is this: DP fans sort of also don't give a fuck about canon. once again, the canon of DP is a sandbox, not a rulebook. the concepts and the characters are the draw, not the plot itself. i've seen DP posts explaining characters who are essentially OCs, but have become so dominant in the fandom via fandom osmosis. there are concepts and ideas about how Danny's powers work and potential concepts with his ghost nature that either aren't in canon or only happened once in canon and fans decided to expand on that and doesn't care about it's own in-universe logic. i've seen a lot of DP fans also express they haven't seen the show and they don't have plans to see the show. because the show is just some children's cartoon with some inconsistencies and a simple plot, as you'd expect from CN. the show isn't the point. no one cares about it's plot, they care about it's characters. they care about pushing the concept of half ghost boy to a logical extreme and seeing what you can get out of that. can you make it weird and fucked up. how much can you highlight on his trauma and body horror. what identity crisis can you give him and how can you build his interactions with other characters in his world around that and also make those characters fun and unique on their own. sure, the skeleton of canon is there, but the meat lies all in the fanon.

Miraculous Ladybug also exists in this similar vein. the characters, the concepts, those hold intrigue. and not even mentioning the fact the original concept for this show was supposed to be aimed to an older audience, so you can see the bones of something a bit more mature and nuanced under this typical, villain of the week magical girl transformation show. the show itself is a bit shallow and that's not a *bad* thing, it's just the medium it exists within being aimed towards children. but the concepts of a teen girl who's basically a sort of chosen one, a boy who doesn't know his father is the big bad of the show, and their weird identity porn love... square thing. those dynamics are *so* complicated and such a fun sandbox to play in with character-driven fandom.

so, at the core, you have three fandoms that care more about the culturally accepted fanon than the canon, with a good chunk of people often not even consuming the original canon content. and well, DC is an *easy* world to transpose just about anything onto. a boy who's half ghost and fighting supernatural threats? that makes sense, DC has ghost heroes like Deadman already. a girl who has this magical item that gives her animal themed superpowers? i mean that's practically the same thing as Vixen's Totem so that one makes sense too. they fit in pretty easy, no needing to change the world to accommodate them. and of course, if you're a fan of *one* fandom where you don't care for the canon content and only like the fandom sandbox, chances are, you'll get drawn in pretty easily to another fandom with similar mechanics. if you can teach yourself the DP fandom rules/concepts, you can teach yourself the Batfamily fandom rules/concepts. and well, since there's so much crossover in fandom members, why not write the fanfiction? crossover fics will always exist, but with such a shared member base, you have a really big boom.

it's why the characters you see DP interact with in DC are *always* characters who are far more driven by fanon than canon. Danny and John Constantine is a *massive* concept. for people who don't read Hellblazer comics. my poor partner, @divine-dominion has lamented to me pretty often about finding DP content in the Hellblazer tag that is essentially turning Constantine into an OC. because whatever version of Constantine is being written about isn't one bit comics accurate, and really, isn't trying to be. and the same thing happens with Shazam. you watch Young Justice and understand him well enough, you get drawn in by the character concept that you just run with it. people put their favorite blorbos in the same place because hey, wouldn't ghost boy be pretty cool in a city like *Gotham*. how would Batman even react to him. and then, the shipping. because ages for the Batfamily can be easily hand-waved and moved around based on where you plop Danny into the timeline, you have your pick of the litter with him, and same with Ladybug. of course there are the most popular ships but largely, the world is your oyster.

i don't think this is the worst thing in the world for either fandom. it's not hard to filter out the crossover tags and scroll past content i don't like. and sure, i see the appeal of making your blorbos from two different places meet. i've got my drafts *full* of DC/MHA crossover ideas because well, i like them both and think that would be cool. i think my only gripe with it is when DP or MLB crossover content seeps it's way into the wrong tags. using the above example, if you're writing about Danny and Constantine but there's zero content of the actual Hellblazer comics, i don't think you need the Hellblazer tag, just the Constantine character tag. tbh i wish this extended onto Ao3 and people utilized fandom tags better. if you're writing Batfamily fanfiction that is very clearly and obviously WFA driven in characterization and concepts, i would far prefer those fics be tagged with the WFA fandom tag rather than the Batman (comics) fandom tag. because well, you're not writing about the Batman comics. and there's nothing wrong with that, but it helps if you don't confuse yourself for content striving to interact with canon more. (this especially extends to Young Justice, by the way. if you're writing for the Young Justice tv show please, please stop using the Young Justice (comics) fandom tag. i'm at my wit's end- /lh)

the whole thing is fascinating. i've got zero interest in entering DP or MLB as fandoms because that's not my speed, but witnessing it as an outsider is my favorite pastime. i see a *lot* of posts going around the DC x DP space that are helping explain to people who's who, what's what, and understanding the canon/fanon of both of these properties so others can better enter the space. which is not something you'd need in a fandom driven only by it's canon content, but it is sweet watching others try to help newbies enter the space. it's a very inviting fandom space, i think, whether you lament it's existence or not. they're just sitting in their corner with their blorbos, and i gotta respect that. the posts explaining the Batfamily to DP fans are always fun for me to read, even if i disagree with some of the characterizations in them because it helps shine a light on what the fans of this crossover regard as "important" enough about each fandom to be worth including those sorts of primers. very fascinating stuff.

[1singulargrape]

This post has been living in my head ever since I saw it and what was supposed to be a prompt I wanted to store in my drafts ended up writing itself. Hope you enjoy!

Yuuji walks in to Sukuna sitting on the porch. His back is turned to the young man, something taking all of his attention.

Yuuji approached and understood immediately: it's a small ball of white with patches of orange and black spread around its fur. The kitty looked to be old enough to be weaned but still small; a few months old at best.

It was rubbing its head along Sukuna's hands, purring loudly. It meows needily when the caresses start to slow down and receives some chin scratches for it. If Yuuji had looked at Sukuna's face at that moment he could have caught the laughter in his eyes.

"I didn't know you liked cats". Yuuji sat beside him and brought his hand to the bite size lawnmower in front of them. The kitty sniffed at his fingers before rubbing itself with more fervor, demanding affection from the newcomer.

"...I never said I didn't." Sukuna's right eyes didn't leave the critter as he turned to look at Yuuji. "Besides, she's the one that dared to approach me. I had to at least entertain her bravery," he ran a finger down the kitten's spine, scratching the base of her tail; her butt wiggled with the movement. She tried turning around for more headpats but the hand had already retreated. "And she reminds me of you."

Yuuji turned to look at the other man "I don't see the resemblance."

"Watch."

Sukuna brought one of his hands to the kitten's face with his index finger extended. The kitty looked at it as if she had never seen it before and tried sniffing it, but before she could complete her investigations the finger moved and quickly pressed between her eyes. She went cross-eyed and blinked her big green eyes, hears perked up, while retracting her neck; she landed on her butt, bewilderment evident on the feline's face.

Yuuji wasn't impressed. He moved his hand under the cat and lifted it to his torso, "How does that remind you of me."

But while Yuuji was looking at his furry friend to make sure she was comfortable in his arms, a finger suddenly appeared in his vision, the boy went cross-eyed for a moment and when it left he blinked, once, having leaned back without noticing.

Before the embarrassment could catch up to him he wanted to berate his companion, but the words died out in his throat when he heard...

A soft chuckle made him look to his right and he saw Sukuna, smiling, his chest stuttering to the rhythm of his laughter. His face was relaxed yet happy, without any hint of malice or mockery. He was simply having fun, albeit to Yuuji's expense, but the younger man had never seen his companion so openly content before.

All of Yuuji's annoyance disappeared, and he smiled softly.

When he saw Yuuji's face, Sukuna went silent and his expression morphed back to his usual neutral frown.

"What are you looking at brat?" came the delayed question.

"Nothing. I'm just happy to see you." Yuuji was still holding the kitten who was trying to grab the collar of his shirt. The small claws were sharp but he paid it no mind.

"So, what's her name?" he asked, pulling free a claw that was stuck in the fabric.

"Cat."

"Cat?"

"Yes, until further notice." Sukuna placed an arm behind Yuuji and leaned towards him. He brought a hand closer and started playing with Cat again. The kitten was on her back and fiercely answered all of the man's "attacks" with vigorous biting and scratching. Although she could never do any real damage, Sukuna soon retreated, abdicating for now.

He was still leaning on Yuuji's shoulder when the other spoke up, "With the name you gave yourself, I thought you'd be a bit more talented at this." Cat was trying to paw his face now. "Even I could come up with a better name."

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at him for a moment. He then scoffed and stood up, "I highly doubt that."

He picked up a plate Yuuji hadn't noticed before, it was empty save for a few fishbones. "For now go walk our little guest. And buy more fresh fish and meat while you're at it." A small pause. "No canned food, her palate is far too refined for that processed junk," he added with disdain.

Yuuji frankly doubted that a stray that probably lived off vermin and thrown leftovers and was most likely infected with some kind of parasite would mind, but he addressed another issue first.

"You don't walk a cat? They just do their thing and you clean up after them." Cat was trying to jump out of Yuuji's arms. She was looking at the plate Sukuna was holding, forgetting she emptied it earlier. To emphasize her point she started meowing at him.

"I will not lower myself to pick up animal waste, and I better not find anything staining this propriety, so you take care of it." He punctuated his sentence by turning around and heading towards the living room.

"Sure Your Highness. Anything else this lowly servant could do for you?"

Yuuji didn't actually expect the other man to stop. Sukuna turned around and leaned against the doorway, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully, "She'll need a place to sleep. Don't get one of those plastic baskets, a fluffy pillow seems more appropriate. As for the bowls I'll accept ceramic or glass. Do whatever you want with the litter, so long as it doesn't smell."

And with that he disappeared inside before Yuuji could protest being made into the errand boy again.

...well, he did ask.

Yuuji stood up with a huff. He held Cat in front of him and she only stared back with her big empty eyes, "It's always like that with him, he does whatever he wants and leaves the gross part to me. But don't worry, I'll make sure he learns how to take good care of you too." Yuuji flashed a beaming smile towards Cat who showed no reaction, then sighed and went back to petting her. She seemed to have spent a lot of energy already and would hopefully rest in Yuuji's front pocket.

He headed towards the entrance making a mental list of everything Sukuna asked and a few extra things that will come in handy. He'll have to go to an animal store for good quality products. And book a visit to the vet. An unexpected spending for sure but thinking about Sukuna's smile and laughter earlier told Yuuji it was worth it.

///

Late in the night, Yuuji was heading back to his (empty) bed after getting some water.

Sukuna had been holed up in his study all evening with Cat doing god-knows-what.

Since he already knew sleep would not come back to him easily, he decided it wouldn't hurt to take a peek inside the room.

His companion was was sitting on the floor (again?) with Cat's head peeking out from behind his frame. She was sound asleep on his thigh, her soft purring barely reaching Yuuji's ears.

Brand new toys were littered around the room and sheets of paper surrounded the man, all with lines upon lines of ink with what looked like annotations and crossed out words. He tapped the end of a brush on his knee, and another hand was near his head. Although Yuuji couldn't see his face, he knew he was deep in thoughts.

Yuuji smiled and headed back to their bed knowing he would most likely spend the rest of the night alone.

After all, choosing a name for his first daughter was something Sukuna would do with the upmost care.

[indigos-stardust]

their autism clashes so hard (so do their traumas <3)

[doesnotloveyou]

the way other fanfic writers write boys and men tells me a lot of you have never observed men interacting in the wild much less had male friends of your own. he literally wouldn't do that

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[blvvdk3ep]

You haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of having to explain ao3 to someone who's never heard of it before

[pokimoko]

Hi, I just saw your art of the snake and the pigeon with aromantic flags, and they look amazing! I thought that a pigeon done in the colours of the queerplatonic and/or oriented aroace flag would be adorable. Did you know that pigeons mate for life and often show affection to their partner by cuddling with each other and giving them light pecks around the neck and head? They also are apparently great parents, with both males and females taking care of the young, this load is shared almost equally between the sexes. Both parents build nests, sit on eggs, and lactate (well “pseudo-lactation” technically) to feed chicks. I just thought the idea of two pigeons in a qpr would be really cute.

Sorry for the ramble about pigeons, I just really like them.

Don't apologise, I love me some pigeon facts. And you're absolutely right, two pigeons in a QPR would be really cute.

[gayest-squrrel]

doodle page for the fanfic Zuko Alone hehehehe

you should totally read it.....

[luminousjellyfishy]

Hey look I'm capable of writing?? Woah???

It's a oneshot, so it's not too much, but I'm still proud that I wrote something.

~

Haunting Lullabies

Characters (all Sanses from UTAU/MV): Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Cross

Word count: 3609

Trigger warnings: Swearing and harsh teasing (it's pretty much bullying)

Summary: Nightmare tasks the gang with watching a child for a day while he's out, thinking things will go smoothly. To his dismay, they don't.

~

The Bad Sanses were sitting in the living room, Nightmare on his chair, Killer and Dust sharing the larger couch, and Horror and Cross sharing the loveseat. Error had been absent for the majority of the day, either off destroying or hiding away in the Anti-Void. The five present members were each doing their respective hobbies in relative silence, enjoying the calm evening after a long, tiresome day of causing havoc throughout the AUs.

Nightmare took a rather large sip of his coffee, then said abruptly, “I feel that I should let you know ahead of time that Error and I will be gone all day tomorrow, and in our absence the four of you will be looking after a child. I owe a friend of mine a favour and it seems that… babysitting, is the task they’ve chosen.”

This sudden comment drew the attention of everyone in the room, actually resulting in a true, pure silence. Panicked eyelights were darting around the room between one another and Nightmare, desperately hoping that they had misheard.

“What…? Boss, what do you even mean? A kid?” Killer started suddenly, confusion all over his features.

“Please tell me it’s not a human.” Dust added, his eyesockets wider than his usual apathetic appearance allowed.

A small chuckle from Nightmare, “No, he isn’t a human. He’s a skeleton monster like yourselves. However, he is quite fragile, so please do be careful with him. I can imagine that you’re all wondering why I don’t watch him, as I’m the one who owes the favour, and the answer is quite simple: I don’t want to.”

Cross stared agape at the smirk on Nightmare’s face, apparently not understanding how one could just not follow through on a debt just because they “didn’t want to”.

“Is something the matter, you two? You seem awfully quiet and I thought you’d have more to say on the matter.” Nightmare asked Cross and Horror in a low voice, however completely unthreatening.

“Well, I don’t really know much about takin’ care of a kid… the best I got is Aliza.” Horror said slowly, evidently still processing the situation. Cross quickly nodded in agreement, still silent.

“I mean, you’ve had Chara living in your skull for a while now, so you’ve still got a step up above the rest of us. I mean, I guess that I worked with Chara for a while, but they were a maniac, so I don’t think they really count…” Killer said to Cross; however, quickly trailing off in uncertainty.

“I killed my human.” Dust added softly.

“What’s that gotta do with it?” Horror asked, now looking at Dust.

“I don’t wanna accidentally kill the kid we’re supposed to watch.” He answered.

“Trust me, that won’t happen.” Nightmare replied, doing little to alleviate his concerns.

Silence followed briefly before Cross said, “So how old is he? Is there anything specific we should know? Is his magic stable? You said that he’s fragile, so will we need to dedicate certain times to healing? We need so much information to make sure we don’t kill him!”

Nightmare seemed to ponder the questions for a small moment before replying with a smile, “He’s a few months past 6 years old, however he looks, acts, and thinks much older. He doesn’t have much usable magic, so you won’t have to worry about that. While he is fragile, there is nothing you can do to help, so no amount of healing will do anything. Just keep him comfortable and entertained and you’ll all be fine.”

“You really seem like you’re purposefully not telling us shit about him.” Killer commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s fully intentional, but please, do not worry too much. You’ll be fine. When you all wake tomorrow, I’ll be gone and won’t be back until late at night. He will most likely be here before you wake, so please try not to sleep in too much.” Nightmare replied with a soft smile and laugh at the end.

A pained groan quickly erupted from both Killer and Dust at the knowledge that they won’t be able to sleep in.

Nightmare laughed again, shook his head, and refocused his attention back onto his book.

~~~~

The child had been roaming the halls of the mansion for quite some time now, admittedly getting rather bored. He had pondered causing chaos multiple times since Nightmare left, but has decided against it every time… well. Every time but this one it seems.

He ran to the laundry area, in the hopes to find some buckets. After a short amount of time spent rummaging around, he finally found a few beside a washing machine. A silly, evil giggle erupted before quickly being silenced, even though he was two floors beneath anyone and he knew that no one had woken up yet.

He ran as fast as he could to the bedroom wing on the second floor, holding several buckets. After reaching the wing, he quickly made his way to Error’s room, hoping desperately that there was leftover string or yarn from the many dolls and scarfs that were so often being made. To his excitement, he found a rather large amount of lime green yarn that would work perfectly.

He set to work, filling four buckets with water and attaching fairly intricate pulley systems to each, rigging them all to dump at their perfect moments.

Now to wait…

He sat down quietly against a wall across from the bedroom doors and began to sleep. Or at least what appeared to be sleeping from an outside perspective. He had actually just entered a semi-unconscious daydreaming state that could easily be disrupted.

Time quickly passed with the child sitting on the floor.

Suddenly, a tired groan from one of the rooms awoke the child from his trance. He quickly stood up, waiting for whoever it was to leave their room. Some shuffling could be heard from what the child knew to be Killer’s room and they could barely contain their giggle when they heard him approach the door to come into the hallway.

The doorknob turned and the system was set into motion.

Killer opened the door and walked out, surprised to see the child waiting there, but raised his hand to say hi.

Out of nowhere, a bucket of water dumped onto his head, drenching him completely and resulting in a loud, startled yell of utter confusion.

The child burst into fits of laughter, unable to contain it any longer.

All the sudden commotion woke the other sleeping skeletons and forced them out of their rooms to see what the problem was. As soon as their doors opened and they walked out, buckets dumped cold water onto their heads.

Everyone was completely confused and staring at the child with reactions that varied from amusement to pissed off. The child in question was currently on the floor dying of laughter because apparently he found their suffering and misery to be hilarious.

“Ok… what the fuck? Huh??” Was all that could be said from Killer, still staring at the skeleton child on the floor.

Dust didn’t even bother saying anything about the situation, he just shook his head and turned back into his room to change.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Horror slowly approached the child, asking quietly, “I take it you’re the kid Nightmare wants us to watch?”

The child took a second to calm down, but then looked up at the large skeleton ahead of him and quieted down slightly, however still letting out copious amounts of giggles.

“Yeah, that’s me. My name’s Lullaby. You’re Horror right?” another burst of giggles, “Sorry about the water, I just got super bored because you were all sleeping and I didn’t know what to do.” The child, now Lullaby, answered through more laughter and wide smiles.

Cross looked around the hallway, noticing the very complicated design of the yarn attached to all four of their rooms, then back to Lullaby, very confused as to how a 6 year old managed to accomplish this, and wondering how long they had been here.

“You set all of this up?? How long have you been here?” Cross asked incredulously before Horror could think of a response.

Lullaby smiled innocently before saying, “I’ve been here for about 2 or 3 hours? Setting this up only took about 15 minutes, though.”

“Ok hold up, I need to wrap my head around. You’re telling me, this 6 year old brat that Boss is forcing us to watch set this all up in 15 minutes? I don’t buy it.” Killer said in a dark tone of voice, very tempted to summon some of his knives and get rid of this nuisance.

“Killer, calm down. It’s just water and not that big of a deal.” Horror grumbled in his raspy voice, watching carefully to make sure he didn’t try anything.

Killer just scoffed and turned back into his room, clearly annoyed.

“Don’t worry too much about him, he just gets… grumpy. Especially this early in the morning. Well, it’s early for him anyways.” Cross chimed in. He was still soaked in water, but was very clearly amused.

Dust finally came back out of his room, dressed in clothes perfect for lounging around the house all day. He approached Lullaby and kneeled down so they were on the same level.

“Good job, kid, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can piss off Killer so fast.” He said with a wide smirk on his face and held his hand up for a high five. Lullaby gave him one with a smile stretched wide.

“I know, I know. I should be a professional shit disturber, right?” Lullaby asked, his smile still going strong.

Cross and Horror broke out into small fits of laughter, clearly not having expected that, whereas Dust just raised his ‘eyebrows’ in surprise.

“You totally should, that sounds like a great occupation.” Cross replied, trying to steady himself. 

Horror nodded in agreement, then said, “I say we reward the newfound shit disturber with some nice cream.”

“Can I have some?” Killer called out from his room, still not opening the door.

Dust scoffed, “If you agree to play nice and not kill the kid then maybe we’ll consider giving you some.”

Silence followed for a few long seconds, when finally the door creaked open and out came Killer.

“Fine. I won’t kill him, BUT I will get my revenge.” He said maliciously, eyesockets narrowed at Lullaby.

“Oh noooooo, I’m so scared.” He muttered to himself; however, Killer unfortunately heard.

“I’m trying to be nice, and this is the reaction I get? Nah, I’m going all out. You’re going to regret coming here, kid.”

“We’ll see.”

~~~~

As the day passed by ever so slowly, Killer stayed true to his word. He had his fun torturing Lullaby, by first stealing his nice cream, then scaring him multiple times throughout the day, then taking away anything that he had been enjoying, and many more things that progressively got worse. He would taunt him and insult him, commenting on his broken and damaged bones, calling him names, teleporting him to parts of the mansion furthest away from anyone else, making fun of his purple clothing, and just overall making this day very unpleasant for him. The others tried intervening when they could, but there was only so much that they could do.

At one point, Lullaby seemed to have a mini panic attack that caused Killer to slightly falter, but not stop.

Cross, Dust, and Horror all talked to Killer, trying to get him to stop, but they were all met with a shrug and a comment similar to, “He knew what he was getting into. Besides, it's not even that bad, I’m just teasing him. It’ll help toughen the kid up!”

Eventually, Lullaby started avoiding him, if he saw Killer come near, he’d leave immediately.

Around 8pm, Dust caught Lullaby hiding in a broom closet with his eyes shut tight and muttering something, seemingly talking to someone. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, making enough noise so his presence was obvious. Lullaby looked up at him, startled as he sat down.

“Are you alright, kid? … No, that’s a stupid question. Killer’s been a complete jerk to you and it’s not fair or right. He’s not used to talking to people outside of our group unless he’s killing ‘em, so he might think that this is ok behaviour. I mean, fuck he’s always doing it to me. Well, not to this extent, but still…” Dust whispered to him, not wanting to draw outside attention. Lullaby’s shoulders sank and he hugged his knees tightly.

“I just thought it would be funny… I figured he of all people would agree. Do you think he hates me…?” He asked reluctantly. Dust’s head snapped towards him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“No, kid. Not at all. He’s just a massive hypocrite who can dish it out but can’t take it. Stars, it’s nothing against you.” He shook his head and pulled Lullaby closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He felt him tense up at the contact and quickly let go.

Lullaby looked away with a sad expression on his face and nodded, standing up to leave. Dust followed suit, opening the door and walking out.

The two walked the halls towards the kitchen, hoping to meet Horror there, but being intercepted by Killer. Lullaby hid behind Dust, grabbing onto his sweatshirt and careful not to touch his scarf.

“Awww, is the little baby hiding behind Dusty? C’mon kid, I thought you were better than that. Aren’t you the one who said ‘we’ll see’ when I told you that you were gonna regret coming? You think that was a little cocky of you? Maybe you regret your stupid your stupid water prank?” Killer taunted, his voice chock-full of spite.

Dust glared at him, “Seriously? He’s 6, Killer. He dunked you with water, because it’s funny. I thought you of all people could take a joke. You’re way out of line. How the hell do you think Boss is gonna react when he finds out how you’ve been acting? We were charged with watching the kid and making sure that he’s ‘comfortable and entertained’, neither of which you’ve been doin-”

“Aw come on! I’ve totally been entertaining!”

“Leave him alone. If I find out that you’ve continued antagonizing him, there’ll be hell to pay.”

A quick, unreadable look from Killer, and he was gone.

Dust turned to take Lullaby’s hand so they could keep walking, but quickly saw that he was crying. He kneeled down and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the violet tears that looked much more oily than a regular skeleton’s tears would. After wiping them away, they seemed to stain his bones a much darker colour than the tears were. It was almost black and caused Dust to do a double take.

“Kid? Why a-”

“He’s just like them.”

Dust sat in silence, his ‘eyebrows’ scrunched in confusion.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m staying.” He muttered to himself, but Dust could tell that he seemed to be telling someone else that he was staying. Someone that wasn’t himself or Dust.

The two of them stood up, and resumed their walk to the kitchen.

They walked in silence, eventually getting back to a sight that they didn’t expect.

Killer was sitting at the dinner table, his head in his arms and Cross beside him with a resigned look on his face.

Dust could feel Lullaby tense up, but neither said anything.

Killer looked up and his teasing stature seemed to crumble.

There was silence for a moment before he began, “Listen, kid. I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ve told you that I ‘struggle with emotions’ or whatever crap excuses they tried to give you to cover up for me. I dish out my pranks and comments to everyone, but I don’t know why I’ve been especially mean- no, cruel. To you. I guess I was taken aback that you got me first, so I tried making up for it like this. So I’m sorry.”

Lullaby said nothing, but Dust felt his grip loosen.

“I get if you don’t wanna talk to me or anything, but I just wanted to tell you that I really am sorry.” Killer muttered resignedly as he got up from the table and began to walk towards the door.

When Killer passed by Lullaby and Dust, Lullaby quickly grabbed onto him, pulling him tightly into a hug.

Killer stared down at him in shock, then slowly hugged him back.

“It was nice to hear you say that, but I can’t make myself believe it.” Lullaby said, dropping his arms and pulling back so tears could be seen to form in his broken eye sockets, “I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s too cruel. You’re great people and it was nice to meet you, but I really wish we could have started off better. Maybe I’ll bring myself to speak to you again later.”

Everyone’s faces shifted from confusion to shock when Lullaby’s body began leaking a dark substance from its crevices and orifices, especially his right eyesocket.

Slowly, Lullaby was completely engulfed in the goo, all of his injuries hidden and the hole where his right eye should have been was covered. Finally, his eyelight changed to a cyan slit and his demeanour changed from being a scared child, to that of a very pissed off King.

Nightmare glared at Killer, his tentacles lashing around violently, displaying his anger.

“You have no idea how much shit you’re in, Killer. It never occurred to you that maybe you should stop when you triggered him into having a panic attack? You never stopped to wonder why he did so? Why he hid?” He hissed, his tentacles sharp and pointed at Killer.

“I didn’t stop to think. I was upset that he got me fir-”

“I heard your whole speech earlier, don’t waste my time by repeating yourself.”

There was silence as Killer looked to his feet.

“Can’t explain yourself? Fine, then don’t. I don’t care to hear it anyways. As for my explanation, Lullaby is the name my past self goes by, as the name ‘Nightmare’ contains far too many negative connotations and memories. He follows me as a ghost that I can see and communicate with. I’ve been watching you all day, and honestly Killer, I’m very disappointed. You practically reenacted the worst years of his life. Of course, your ‘apology’ helps your case; however, I’m still quite upset.” Nightmare scolded, still glaring at Killer.

“He wanted to meet all of you, so we agreed that today would be a good day to do so, as Error would be out and we had no plans. I want to thank the three of you,” he looked to Dust, Horror, and Cross, “for assisting and comforting him. I appreci-”

“I’m so sorry.”

Nightmare looked back to Killer, only to see far less Hate leaking from his eyes, however being replaced by his red tears.

“I didn’t know. I thought that we were just having some fun, but I guess towards the end, I was just being mean on purpose because I wanted to feel powerful. Ha… feel powerful over a fucking 6 year old. Man, I really am the worst…” Killer sobbed, trailing off at the end.

Nightmare’s tentacles calmed and rounded slightly at the tips. He was at a loss for words. It was a very rare occurrence to see Killer cry, but when he did, it was genuine.

Everyone was quiet, broken only by Killer’s weeping.

Nightmare sighed, then pulled Killer towards him with his tentacles, gently embracing him. The other three respectfully kept their distance.

“Lullaby said it’s ok. He doesn’t blame you and you shouldn’t blame yourself. We both knew what he was getting into by taking control; however, I cannot let this go unpunished.” Nightmare murmured, gently rubbing his back with a tentacle. He felt Killer tense up slightly and he could feel his dread radiating. 

“It’s nothing cruel or torturous, I assure you. However, you won’t like it.”

He could feel the others’ apprehension as he continued to console Killer.

“You’ll be taking care of everyone’s chores, you’ll be assisting Horror with dinners, and you’ll be going to bed at 9pm, all for a month from today.” He asserted, instantly feeling his disappointment, but also understanding. Dust cheered when Nightmare said Killer will be doing their chores, Horror groaned when he said that he’ll be helping in the kitchen, and Cross laughed at the fact that he’ll have a bedtime.

Killer pulled away, wiped his face with his sleeve, and nodded.

“You said, Lullaby followed you as a ghost, and that you heard me talking earlier, so does that mean he can hear me now?” Killer asked slowly. To this, Nightmare with a quiet sound of confirmation. “In that case, I’m sorry, kid. I really am.”

Nightmare’s eyelight flickered into Lullaby’s purple one, but he didn’t uncorrupt, instead he said in his lighter voice and with a smile, “It’s ok. I really don’t blame you. Personally, I would have revoked your nice cream privileges, but this will do.”

His eyelight flickered back to cyan and his smile changed to a smirk, “I actually think that’s a great idea. Fuck you, no nice cream for a week.”

Killer fell to his knees dramatically, seemingly mostly back to his old self, and yelled out numerous profanities.

Everyone laughed at the sight, Lullaby included.

~

So, this follows my headcanon that Nightmare is made up of three consciousnesses: the original passive Nightmare (he goes by Lullaby now), the Corruption (literal negativity - goes by C), and Nightmare (he's a combination of the other 2 - primarily has control of their body). Lullaby can take control whenever he wants since he's the original (the other 2 can't take it from him), and C can take from Nightmare, but Nightmare can't take from C. For about 2 centuries after the Apple Incident, C (he went by Nightmare to keep up appearances) had complete control over their body because Lullaby didn't want to interact with reality at all (at this point, he wasn't even following as a ghost, he was just gone). After those ~2 centuries, the combination between them formed and others would notice that Nightmare had significantly calmed down, signifying the formation of the current and most well-known Nightmare.

This is inspired by a YouTube video by AButterfly (www.youtube.com/watch?v=10iGbkHDafA) and I seriously suggest you watch it! Not even just for context, but because it's cool.

Thanks for reading! :D

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[starlyte-writes]

Question: Would it be incredibly pretentious of me or would anybody be interested if I streamed/hosted a discord call where I go through all of my old fics on my ao3 account and talk about them, the writing process I went through, old fond dsmp memories, etc.

Like is that too narcissistic of me or would anybody actually be interested?? Half of it would be me joking around and roasting myself anyway

[legolasghosty]

if this doesn't scream boggie, i don't know what does: They smell like sparkles and sunshine and I want to kiss their stupid face so bad

Bobby slammed the apartment door behind him, heading straight for the couch. He didn't slow down until he was flat on his stomach, his burning cheeks hidden by a Gayosaurus throw pillow ("Like a normal gay, but more awesome!") that Willie had found somewhere six months ago. Bobby wasn't ever sure where he found this sort of thing. He'd given up on asking when they were still in college, the two of them and Alex randomly paired up in a freshman dorm.

"What happened here?" the previously mentioned pillow finder said from somewhere above Bobby.

The soft click of Alex closing their front door properly was followed by the drummer's sigh of, "Reggie, what else."

Bobby felt the couch dip near his feet as probably Willie sat down. "You wanna talk about it, dude?" they asked. Bobby couldn't decide if their tone was sympathetic or teasing.

"No," he mumbled into the pillow.

Look, dating your bandmates didn't work out well. Reggie and Luke had been together for a bit when they were all in college and it had burned hot and fast. Bobby had been sure the band would break up for good when they called it quits. It had taken a whole new person, Luke's now queerplatonic partner and their band frontwoman Julie, to get the two of them to talk it out and become friends again. Even then, it had been a rough couple of months for all of them.

So, no matter how pretty Reggie was or how sometimes Bobby thought he leaned a bit closer to their shared mic than necessary, they couldn't be a thing. It wouldn't work.

"Dude, you can't just keep ignoring it and hope it goes away," Alex sighed, now sounding much closer. "Remember how I tried that and it failed? Epicly?"

Bobby lifted his head just enough to shoot Alex a glare. "That's not the same thing," he protested. "No offense, Willie."

"None taken," they chuckled. "But Lex has a point. Shoving it down doesn't work, and it might just turn out better than you think."

Bobby dropped his face back down to the pillow and flipped them both off. "No."

He felt a foot nudging his shoulder, indicating that Alex had found his perch on the back of the couch above him. "Bobby, Reggie likes you back, you guys just have to get your acts together and talk about it."

"Hypocrite," Bobby mumbled. But he groaned and rolled onto his side, glancing up at his roommates and best friends. Maybe talking it out would help erase his stupid crush on his bandmate. "I know he maybe thinks I'm cute or whatever, but it wouldn't work. The band almost broke up when Luke and Reggie did, and I can't be responsible for doing that to you guys. I just can't."

"Okay, I get that," Alex began. "But what makes you so sure the two of you wouldn't work? I mean yeah, Luke and him didn't go so well, but there were a lot of reasons for that."

"Very much including the fact that they were 19 and neither of them had actually been in a serious relationship before," Willie added. "And I love them both, but their communication skills aren't the best now, let alone two years ago."

"You and Reg are good for each other," Alex continued, giving Bobby that heavy, open stare that he usually masked behind several layers of sarcasm. "He gets you out of your routine and trying new things. You help him slow down and talk things out."

"You're both better people for being around each other," Willie agreed, one hand resting on Bobby's ankle. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. "Not to mention the fact that you guys practically make out at the mic every other song."

"We do not!" Bobby insisted, forcing himself up on one elbow. "Mic sharing is totally normal."

"Mic sharing, yes. But you two take the phrase 'eat the mic' a little too literally," Alex laughed. Then his amusement faded. "But seriously. You like him. He likes you. And we're all semi-functioning adults who can at least pretend to be emotionally mature. At least talk to him."

"Even if you decide not to give it a shot, at least you'll have been honest with each other," Willie said.

"But what if it messes everything up?" Bobby asked, hating how small his voice sounded. "I mean, yeah, he smells like sparkles and sunshine and I wanna kiss his stupid face so bad, but I don't want it to destroy the band. Or our whole... family."

Willie's expression is now solidly in the sympathetic zone. "But what if it makes it better?" they countered. "I mean, Lex and I were great as friends, and we're better as partners, and we're both better friends to the rest of you because of being together."

The smile Alex gave them for that is enough to make Bobby fake gag and throw the Gayosaurus pillow at them. But... maybe they're right.

"Hug time?" Alex questioned.

Bobby just nodded, suddenly feeling heavy at the possibility of having Reggie as something other than a bandmate. But heavy in a good way, like crawling under his weighted blanket at the end of a long day.

Alex dropped down onto the couch beside him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him in. Bobby let Willie resituate both of their legs on his lap. He usually wasn't one for being manhandled by his friends, but it was nice to let them take care of him every once in a while. He tried to focus on the clean and salty scent of Alex's hoodie and the easy movement of Willie's thumb on his ankle.

Maybe, just maybe, they had a point. At the very least, he owed it to Reggie to let him be a part of the conversation, right? Bobby let out a soft sigh. This meant he'd have to actually have a conversation about it with the bassist. But he was getting better at those at least. It was 'healthy' or something. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe they would be okay.

"So..." Willie mused after a while, "what do sparkles and sunshine smell like?"

"Screw you," Bobby groaned, hiding his face in Alex's chest.

[seventh-district]

again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.