#no beta just vibes

[slippinmickeys]

A couple of months ago on Discord, several people were super kind and supportive when I threw out a couple of questions about releasing fic. They encouraged me to post the fics set in the Funfetti Universe (SO GLAD I named it that, womp womp) as its own story on AO3 and @calimanc asked for a prompt: Thanksgiving play at school with Mulder complaining about history being whitewashed while Scully is recording and being like "shut up and watch your son." Something happens with Addams Family Values vibes.

I knew I'd have a minute to write today, so I loaded the old prompts onto AO3 last night, and sat down today and cranked this one out.

Thanksgiving Pageant

It was cute. He had to admit it was cute. The little black outfit with an old white handkerchief looped over his son’s little shoulders. 

Scully had sat at their kitchen table with Elmer’s glue and construction paper, doing her best not to swear as she held together two gummy pieces of black paper that would serve as the headband of William’s Pilgrim hat in the school’s Fall Show. William, oblivious to his mother’s consternation, rehearsed his lines with halting earnestness. 

“We were so thankful to learn how to grow food in this land,” the boy said. 

“In this new land,” Scully corrected him. “‘We were so thankful to learn how to grow food in this new land.’”

���Can you do the part before mine, mama?”

“Sure,” Scully agreed, flitting her eyes to Mulder, who was very much trying to keep his mouth shut. Her look communicated quite clearly that he’d fucking better.  

“‘The Wampanoag showed us how to take care of the land and plant crops like corn and beans,’” Scully recited, part of her glad that it was another kid who had to pronounce ‘Wampanoag.’ 

“We were so thankful to learn how to grow food in this new land,” William finished, beaming at his success. 

“Good job, bud,” Mulder said, turning to his son, his hands dripping dishwater everywhere. “Gonna end the show with a bang.”

“Can I be done?” William asked. 

“You may,” Scully said, and William darted up the stairs without another word, no doubt to the LEGO table Mulder had set up for him. His bedroom door closed with a resounding snick. 

“I can’t believe they’re still doing Thanksgiving pageants,” Mulder said, shaking his head. “It’s such whitewashing bullshit.”

“We can address Colonial violence with him when he’s older, Mulder,” Scully sighed, clearly not in the mood to be having this conversation. “In the meantime, can you grab me a binder clip off of your desk before this capotain becomes a permanent part of my thumb?”

Mulder put the last pan in the rack by the sink and dried off his hands, then swung into his office for the requested binder clip, a piece of equipment he was pretty sure he’d liberated from the FBI supply cabinet when he’d moved from the basement to the fourth floor. 

He set it on the tabletop next to her and leaned down to drop a kiss onto the end of her nose. 

She attached the clip to the hat she was making and looked at her sticky fingers with distaste.

“It’s a kindergarten play, Mulder,” she said, leaning back in the chair. “What would you have them say?” 

Mulder lowered himself across from her and leaned forward, elbows on the table. Upstairs they could hear the distant, muted sounds of William humming happily to himself. 

“He goes last, right?” Mulder said. 

Scully nodded. 

“How about something like ‘What you just watched was a sanitized and oversimplified whitewashing of history. While this story is comforting and well-intentioned, it obscures the colonial violence, cultural erasure, and exploitation Indigenous people endured as European settlers expanded their presence in North America.’”

His wife stood up and gave him a deadpan look. “It’s perfect. Age-appropriate. He definitely wouldn’t stumble over any of those words. No notes.”

She moved to the sink and began washing the gunk off of her fingers. 

“I think so too,” Mulder agreed breezily. He thought but didn’t say that it would be a great touch if William pointed at his classmates dressed as the Wompanoag and highlighted the fact that they’d all be dead of smallpox within five years. That would teach ‘em.  

XxX

Scully held up a small digital camera trying to get the entire stage to show up in the viewfinder. Satisfied by her framing, she lowered the little device into her lap. 

“By filming this, you’re perpetuating-” Mulder started.

“Stop,” Scully interrupted. “What I’m perpetuating is my mother’s tolerance of what she considers our weird choices. She will watch it 33 times and show it to all her neighbors. It is what it is, Mulder.”

The elementary auditorium was chocked full of parents and bored older siblings, coats strung across a line of seats to save them. It was very warm. 

“It smells like feet in here,” Mulder said. 

“It kind of does, yeah,” Scully agreed. 

“We should have sat on the edge. We could have snuck out right after William’s class did its thing.”

“His teacher already hates us, we’re going to be conspicuously present and smiling,” Scully said without looking at him. “Before, during and after the show.”

The school was K-5, which meant they’d have to endure five more Thanksgiving-themed song-and-dance routines. Mulder couldn’t help but twist around in his seat and locate the nearest exit.

“Relax, Mulder,” Scully said, noticing his nudgyness. “There’ll be lemonade and cookies after. You can have as many as you want.”

“I don’t think elevating my blood sugar is going to make up for losing 45 minutes of my life to this-”

“Shhh,” she shushed him quiet. The lights of the auditorium had begun to lower. 

Shortly thereafter, the kindergarten class shuffled out on stage, stumbling into each other and missing their marks. Several waved to their parents in the audience, loudly, and one little Pilgrim began to wail and had to be escorted off the stage. 

After a song in which the music teacher was the only one who knew and sang all the words, William and several classmates took a big step forward and held hands. William was on the far right and would be the last to speak. He waved at Mulder, who couldn’t help but laugh as he waved back. 

The Indian on the far left had to be prompted to speak, but it flowed fairly well after that. 

“We didn’t know much about this land, but the native people taught us.”

“We learned new ways to live and we tried to work together.”

“We wanted to say thank you for all the help we received.”

“So we invited the Wamp. The–how does it go again, Ms. Wendy?”

Beside him, arm holding the camera as steadily as she could, Scully quietly chuckled. It was almost William’s turn. 

He stepped forward with a big smile and Mulder, having heard the phrase maybe fifty times, was ready for We were so thankful to learn how to grow food in this new land. So it was something of a surprise when William said: 

“What you just watched was a sanitized and oversimplified whitewashing of history.” 

The auditorium went deadly silent. 

“Oh my God,” Scully hissed. 

William, unphased, continued, “While this story is comforting and well-intentioned, it obscures the colonial violence, cultural erasure, and exploitation Indigenous people endured as European settlers expanded their presence in North America.”

Mulder was both astonished and impressed. His son had not only gone full Wednesday Addams, but he’d repeated–word for word–the exact words Mulder knew for a fact the boy couldn’t have overheard. 

William then turned toward the stage and pointed at the cluster of his classmates who’d been dressed as the Wampanoag.

“Oh no,” Mulder said, reaching out to grab Scully’s arm. 

“What-” she began.

“In five years,” William announced loudly, somewhat gleefully. “You will all be dead of smallpox!”

Several audience members gasped, even more laughed, and two little Wampanoag started crying. The stage descended into chaos. 

Beside him, Scully slowly lowered her camera and turned to Mulder with a horrified look on her face. 

“Tell me you got all that on tape,” Mulder said. 

“Oh my God, Mulder.”

“You still want to stay for cookies and lemonade?”

[musubiki]

recently thinking about how it might be useful to incorporate some kind of face covering into witch attire..

[razrogue]

A Gentle Touch (Zayne)

Zayne x Reader/You

Tags: Early Mornings, Sleepiness, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff

Notes: No edit, no beta, we ball (please be kind 😊); curly hair care mentioned; Zayne has a nickname

Words: 830

Read on AO3

The sunrise was just on the horizon but the apartment was thankfully still dim enough for his exhausted eyes to have a break. Zayne removed his shoes and shirked off his coat, hanging it carefully on the coat rack beside the door. He tossed his own keys into the wooden bowl on the foyer table, grinning as they clinked against the cute keychain set still nestled there. Zayne raised his arms overhead, stretching to the ceiling, trying to ease all the tension in his shoulders and back from his long shift.

He was supposed to get off in the late evening, he’d miss dinner with you but he knew he’d be able to bring a late dessert for the two of you to share. Just as he’d placed his stethoscope around the neck of his lab coat hanging in the small closet, the emergency tone on his phone began blaring. His hands dropped to his side as he sighed and reached for the phone ringing from his desk. “Raincheck on dessert?” He ended the question with one of the snowman emoji you’d installed on his phone and got ready to go tackle the latest emergency that was keeping him out from another evening with you.

His message tone rang out just as you opened the door to his place. Hurrying to free your hands so you could respond, you were a little defeated when you didn’t see a message letting you know he was on his way home. You knew he was a dedicated doctor that was great at his job, in fact you admired that about him. You admired the way he worked hard, sometimes tirelessly, for his patients. He was considerate and thorough and would always see the cases through to a solution. Sometimes though, you wanted him to be a little more selfish, to give a little more time to your relationship. As soon as the thought cropped up, you shook your head vigorously trying to clear it from your mind. You knew what you were signing up for, just like he knew what he was signing up for - the both of you were dedicated to your jobs and to saving lives in your own ways. Pushing that fleeting thought far from your mind, you prepped some bowls for him to quickly heat up once he made it home before settling in with your own meal for the night.

Zayne loosened his tie and headed into the kitchen, the handwritten note on blue paper taped to the fridge door catching his eye as he opened the fridge to see three containers stacked neatly on the top shelf.

Z - From that place we wanted to try. I picked out all the carrots.

The three little hearts signing the note made him chuckle quietly to himself as he grabbed a small bite from the top bowl. With a slightly satisfied hum, Zayne made his way to the bedroom.

He could just make out the nest of blankets near the center of the bed as he removed his clothes. Down to his boxer briefs, he carefully sat on his side of the bed, setting his glasses down before reaching out to the blanket to gently rest his hand on you. Your pineappled curls peek out of the top blanket, scarf no longer on your head, but thankfully Zayne made it a point to buy silk pillowcases to have at his place when you stayed over. He didn’t quite understand at the time but he listened thoughtfully as you explained caring for and protecting your hair to him some months ago. He finally slid into the bed behind you, placing his arm around your waist and carefully pulling you closer to you. With his face nuzzled into the side of your neck, Zayne sighed, the scent of the fruity lotion on your warm skin filling his nose and making him all the more content and happy to be home. You finally stirred from your slumber as he began covering your shoulder in soft kisses, rubbing his cheek against you in bliss every few kisses.

“Z, what are you…”

Before you could finish your statement, he tightened his arm’s hold on you slightly and pulled your body flush with his. Satisfied that you were right where he wanted you to be, Zayne’s hand reached for yours so he could lace your fingers with his own. You freed your other arm from beneath the pillows and rested it on top of the muscled arm around your waist.

“Did you eat yet?” You inquire as you softly caress his forearm. Zayne doesn’t respond, instead closing his hand around yours a little more, settling himself against you, a contented sigh his only answer. You shake your head a little in amusement, continuing your soothing touch along his arm. The two of you remain there in the middle of his bed, cuddled together for who knows how long until you hear soft snores in your ear.

[val-of-the-north]

Tibia Mariners and Those Lost in Death

While I am at it, I should talk about a detail found in Messmer's Shadow Keep. On the way to the Specimen Storehouse, you'll be faced with a peculiar sight: boats lit on fire.

This seems to be a callback to Viking funerals, except the boats are placed in a row and burnt on land. It's certainly an odd practice, but it might only be done this way because Messmer's forces are far from an accessible shore or water that's deep enough to perform it normally.

However, something else caught my eye. The boats looked quite familiar so I went back to check and...

It was the EXACT model as the boats used by the Tibia Mariners! Perhaps it is obvious seeing as the Messmer boats are used in a funerary rite, but I think it's still quite a significant connection, especially since the old Mariners have gotten quite a bit of new lore in the DLC. In Charo's Hidden Grave we can find the skulls of boatmen as a crafting material, presumably that of previous Tibia Mariners.

This is outright confirmed after finding the lone Tibia Mariner in the area, who upon defeat drops the Tibia's Cookbook, which describes them as the oldest of grave keepers.

(Btw I love the detail of the piece of lace cloth and golden ornaments, they are the same found on the Mariners themselves. They even come with the same ghostly glow)

This is quite the revelation, as prior to Shadow of the Erdtree we had no way of knowing that these guys actually predated the spread of Deathroot and Godwyn's transformation into the Prince of Death. And how could we doubt that, since they even drop Deathroot themselves? But there was something that most people have neglected to note about the Mariners, me included.

In the base game, the Tibia Mariner found in the Wyndham Ruins drops a spell called Tibia's Summons. This inconspicuous sorcery of the servants of death actually holds a perplexing description which mentions a group known as "Those Lost in Death".

There was something seemingly redundant and unexplained about these guys. What does "Lost in Death" mean? Why aren't they simply called "Those Who Live in Death"? It wouldn't blame anyone for assuming that this description just contains an outdated term for the undead before they stuck with the one used in-game. However, through the Tibia's Cookbook, we find a NEW reference to this same concept.

Roughly the same title (Those Lost in Death = one lost in death), the same underlying sentiment, and we have verifiable proof that the Tibia Mariners are outright ancient... so what's the deal with this? Well, I have a theory.

The descriptions of these things hint at the fact that the dead have been wandering for a very long time, and that they are in need of leadership. Before the DLC, it was easy to assume that the undead were simply a result of Deathroot, and the game seemed to suggest the same thing by stating multiple times that it was the origin of Those Who Live in Death...

... but that's the thing! Prior to Deathroot connecting them to Godwyn, the undead amounted only to shambling corpses. They were not LIVING in Death, but simply LOST in it, which is how the Mariners were able to control them in ancient times through the use of sounds, both their horns and the Calls of Tibia. It's only through the guidance of a lord, in this case the Prince of Death, that they found an identity and new life.

It's likely the undead waned in the era of Marika because of her elaborate Erdtree burials and general control of life and death. Heck, the figure of Rosus, who guides us to the Catacombs, must have also played a big part in their disappearance. His axe has a similar power to the Tibia's Summons and it's called Rosus's Summons. Its description also mentions that the dead easily lose their way, meaning that Rosus was meant to lend the dead a guiding hand. "Those Lost in Death" would be lost no more.

Without people Lost in Death, the Mariners kind of lost their purpose and vanished for a long time... until the Shattering and the rise of Those Who Live in Death of course. It might mean that the only reason they hold onto Deathroot is because it attracts and connects the new undead.

I guess Godwyn was meant to be a sort of "lighthouse" for all undead. He would make sure they never lost themselves but also that they would be allowed to live instead of being forced back to rest like with Rosus and Marika. Him being a "lighthouse" also fits the marine theme that all this death business is going for quite neatly I think...

But to return to what started this... maybe those boats lit on fire are Messmer's way of making sure the soldiers of his army aren't lost to death after their passing. A way to give them a proper rest the way Marika would have wanted, even though he is limited in what he can do about it. The Catacombs are now corrupted with Deathroots and Godwyn's corpse bodies, and guarded by his fervent golden Death Knights.

(P.S. - I didn't know where to put this, but "Charo" is one letter off from Charon, the ferryman of the dead in Greek mythology. Seeing as the place is connected to the Tibia Mariners, who shepherded Those Lost in Death in an age long past, I find that this connection might not be mere coincidence...)

[necrotic-nephilim]

JayTim

“So, like… Do you want to fuck me up or do you want to fuck me?”

“Can’t it be both?”

you're SO real for this. this is absolutely them. have like. a VERY short ficlet, this is only 1.3k but i loved the thought so. enjoy anyway <3

Tim still hadn't figured Jason Todd out.

For every time he thought he understood Jason, the rug was yanked out from under Tim's feet by Jason upping the ante. One day he was fighting Tim for no reason at all, the next he was crashing Tim's patrol just to talk. Which was Jason's way of saying he would beg for Tim's attention until they inevitably came to blows again.

And this time, as Jason pinned Tim against a rough brick wall and held him a solid foot above the ground to force Tim to look Jason in the eyes, Tim had no idea which end of the spectrum he was going to get.

"So like..." Tim groaned, trying to breathe in. He was pretty sure the slam against the wall was enough to bruise his ribs. His face was already bloody from the previous fight Jason crashed and he had to blink to keep blood out of his eyes. Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was his ever-thinning patience running out, but Tim had the brazen idea to say the question that always sat in the back of his head. "Do you want to fuck me up or do you want to fuck me?"

The question was a joke. Mostly, at least. Something to throw Jason off his balance and it worked wonders. Jason wasn't wearing his helmet, giving Tim the glorious view of Jason's expression shifting as he leaned back, eyes going wide and jaw falling slack. The feral smirk Jason always wore around Tim was gone, replaced by surprised, parted lips.

Tim waffled back and forth on if he actually believed Jason wanted to fuck him. It'd been a crude joke from Stephanie the first time when Tim ranted to her about yet another run-in with Jason. He hadn't taken it seriously at the time.

But the longer the question sat in Tim's psyche, the more he really wondered.

It was the closest he had to a reasonable explanation for any of this. Though, expecting reasonable explanations for anything Jason did might've been Tim's first mistake.

Jason managed to regain his composure by sucking in a breath through his teeth. His eyes narrowed and he leaned in as close as he could get to Tim's face without them physically touching. Just when Tim was completely positive Jason was going to rip Tim's jugular out with his teeth for the implication, Jason smirked again.

"Can't it be both?" He whispered, voice dropping an octave.

Tim swallowed.

Great corner he'd backed himself into with that one.

What response was he expecting out of Jason for either answer?

"I don't think that's how love stories work," Tim found his voice, even if it barely sounded like his own, breaking on a few words. "Courting comes with roses, I think. Not punches."

That answer just seemed to stroke the fire in Jason's eyes. His smirk grew into a deadly grin. "Didn't know you were a romantic. Do you want roses, Drake?" Jason tilted his head, then shrugged. "I can do roses. Can't promise I'll pull the punches, though. Call it a compromise."

Did Tim want roses?

Or, better question: did he want Jason?

That was something Tim had been dancing around since he seriously considered the possibility of Jason wanting him. Tim shut it down every time he thought about it. He didn't like where his mind wandered.

The mental images he dreamed up would probably make Bruce go into early retirement.

But Tim's heart was beating too fast, now. And his answers were too slow. His only protection was that Jason couldn't see Tim's eyes under his mask. He couldn't see how Tim's gaze kept drifting down ti Jason's lips.

"More of an orchids guy," Tim artfully dodged the real question.

Or maybe, he answered it in his own indirect way.

"Orchids, then." Jason nodded in a way that made Tim wonder if he'd accidentally just shook hands with the devil. "They'll be red just for you, Red Robin." He put force into the way he said Tim's name, looking him up and down. "You look cute in my suit, by the way. But I think you'd get your point across better if you just wrote 'property of Red Hood' on your forehead."

"That is not why I'm Red Robin and you know it-"

Jason cut Tim off by abruptly dropping him, then punching Tim hard in the gut. Tim groaned and doubled over, accidentally resting his head on Jason's shoulder. Before Tim could pull away from the compromising position, Jason grabbed Tim's shoulder and held him there, going in for another punch, this time to Tim's ribs.

It knocked the wind out of Tim's lungs. He gritted his teeth and ignored the groan that broke free from his throat.

"Told you I was keeping the punches," Jason said with utter nonchalance. "If you ask me, fucking you up and fucking you can be the same thing. You're just not thinking big enough."

Tim bit back a swear. "Think I'm a masochist or something?"

Jason dared to laugh. "I know it." He grabbed Tim's jaw with the same hand that was just punching Tim and tilted it up. He leaned down and for a second Tim froze. Instead of a proper kiss though, Jason just brushed his lips against Tim's cheek.

Tim tried to ignore the feeling in his chest that was disturbingly close to disappointment.

"See you around, Red," Jason hummed. Then he let TIm go. "Here's a gift for the road." A short shive was slammed into Tim's hip. Dangerously close to Tim's crotch. As close as Jason could've gotten without cutting Tim's dick off, even.

Tim swore. He grabbed the hilt of the blade and pulled it out. The wound was so shallow he wasn't even sure if it would need stitches. His suit was thick enough to have protected him from the brunt of it. Blood was still trickling out of the wound and sharp pain danced through his veins, reminding him exactly what he'd gotten himself into.

When he looked up, Jason was gone.

The feeling in his chest was definitely disappointment. Tim sighed and slipped Jason's shiv into his belt. He could think about this later.

When Tim got home hours later, he was sore and tired. He went through the motions of stripping his armor, showering, and tending his wounds so robotically that he barely noticed his surroundings. Tim was seconds from faceplanting his bed before he froze.

In the center of Tim's ivory sheets, right on display, was a bundle of red orchids.

Or more appropriately, once-white orchids that were now dripping with crimson shades that had already stained Tim's bedding beyond repair.

When Tim carefully picked the orchids up, they were still with a liquid he knew far too well.

Blood.

A note was tied to the flowers and Tim stared at the sloppy scroll.

hard to find orchids this time of year so I had to improvise. can't say i'm not courting you now. and don't worry, it's not mine. -J

The blood not being Jason's just made Tim more worried about whose it was. Someone who was probably long dead now.

Tim's stomach should've churned over that. He should throw the orchids away. He should get a sample of the blood for a DNA test.

Instead of any of those things, Tim found himself smiling. He carefully carried the orchids over to his kitchen. To preserve them, he put the flowers in his freezer while he thought about how he would handle Jason's inevitable next confrontation. Somehow, Tim found himself humming a love song he didn't know the lyrics to.

If TIm had gotten himself into this game, he wasn't going to let Jason be the only one playing it.

He had punches to throw too.

[little-pondhead]

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

[nuctua-larc]

thinking up some alternate designs for the gangs alchemized outfits

[nyc-pizza-rat]

okay thinking about her

the tree bark at his back scratches him as he shifts. there are bruises on his skin that sting. he feels the slide of blood at his temple, unsettling and unfamiliar, even after all these years. castiel looks down at his hands, a little calloused, now, and wrinkling, and tries to center himself. there is dirt on his palms, under his fingernails. a small cut on his index finger that is loud and sharp. he curls his fists and tries to reach within himself. the well of his grace has been running low for a while, now, and castiel hasn't been sure of...well, anything.

it's harder to find his dimming grace within, here in purgatory. harder still to coax it to the surface. sweat beads at his brow but castiel keeps his fingers clenched, mumbles to himself in enochian — words to songs of praise and comfort and strength that mean so little now, and yet come to him easy.

there is a thin stream of silver light, and castiel heaves a breath, sinks further into the hollow of the tree. he unclenches his fist, and there are red half-moons carved into his palm. the cut is gone, but there is a scar, still, and castiel cannot stop looking at it. it looks like a thin tear in fabric, like the cracks in between the worlds that let them through. it looks like the beginning of the end.

he rubs his thumb over the scar, feels the slight raise of his skin. his thoughts begin to spin, and all he can focus on is the heat building at the back of his neck, the rushing of blood in his ears. suddenly, then, a ripple within. a breeze by his ear that pull at his core. that compels him to quiet, to listen.

someone, somewhere, is invoking him in prayer.

his grace surges now, easy as it hasn't been in a while, and while it doesn't heal him still, castiel feels more angel than he has in a long time.

Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late.

castiel sighs, something inside him relaxing. he hadn't even noticed the way his muscles had been pulled taut. hadn't noticed the tendrils of fear creeping into his heart. dean's alive. dean's alive.

I should've stopped you.

castiel swallows. digs his fingers into his thighs. his grace spins out, trying to find the source of the prayer. It's harder than it is on earth, and harder than it should be for an angel of his caliber, but castiel keeps trying.

You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.

castiel wishes dean would stop saying these things. he bites his cheek, listening, following dean's voice. he's always following dean's voice, even when he doesn't want to.

I – Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that it's – i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how –

dean breaks, and castiel pauses, stares at the blinking doorway that will lead them back onto earth. back into a battle that they are bound to lose. he thinks about jack, lost forever. about chuck, who cannot be beaten. about the pointlessness of what they are doing, the desperation with which he has been clinging to hope.

— how bad I want to, I just can't stop it.

he wishes he could see dean. there is something solid pressing against the back of his throat, like he has swallowed a rock, like it is blocking the air. his eyes sting. he wishes dean would just — just talk to him.

And — And I — I forgive you. Of course I forgive you.

castiel shakes his head. his wings are more bone than anything else, skeletons he lugs around because he cannot bear to sever them from his trueform. now they twitch, twined with his grace as they are. castiel lets them curl inwards, pretends he can feel them whole, their warmth, the comfort of it.

I'm sorry it took me so long – I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm – I'm so sorry.

castiel forgives him, despite everything. thinks he'd forgiven him long before this, before dean ever thought to ask. he wonders if dean knows that castiel doesn't know how to loathe him, even if he wanted to.

longing surges out to him, the pull of the prayer strengthened by cords of need, of want.

dean thinks he's dead, and he's desperate for him to not be. castiel knows what dean can be like, when he loses those he considers kin, when he's even faced with the prospect of losing them.

Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me.

longing can feel a lot like love.

angels were never meant to decipher the nuances of human emotion, and despite all the time he's spent on earth, even castiel is not all that good at it. so when prayer is made with longing, it can feel a lot like love.

and maybe it is. castiel doesn't know.

it's almost unsettling, the way warmth bleeds into his trueform, as dean finishes praying, as he makes his way closer. castiel tries to reign in his weak grace, pulsing away under his skin. tries to not let himself get carried away.

he looks up at the grey sky, the sunless world he is trapped in. he thinks about the empty. he thinks about his son.

maybe it isn't. human love is so complicated, after all.

somewhere to his right, footsteps. castiel breathes, wills his lungs to loosen, his heart to slow. he pulls the leviathan blossom out of his coat pocket. all that fighting and the fidgeting has smushed it a little. he rubs a thumb over one of its strange petals, and puts it back in his coat.

dean is getting closer. castiel can hear him breathing now. can hear the way his heart races.

he gathers himself and pushes out of the hollow of the tree. straightens a little.

"dean," he calls. he sounds tired, even to his own ears. human. god. "you made it."

[moeblob]

OC

[kurinhimenezu]

Yandere Abel - manipulative and obsessesed with Adam's little friend. Adam used to always tell you to stay away from his loser son.

No one would believe such a sweet and all around good guy would EVER try hurt you

He follows you around? What do you mean ? Did he ever say anything when you see him? No? Probably just a coincidence

Someone broke into your house and you think it's Abel? Why? Gold feathers ? It was probably Adam's when he last visited

Listen you're probably just tired... it'll be okay..

You feel suffocated as you try to tell someone ANYONE about your fears. No one saw how he looked at you like he wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh...no one believed you when he placed a finger against his lips when you saw him climb out your window.

Cold sweat runs down your back as his arms trap you against his soft chest, a small grin is pressed against your temple.

"Don't worry everyone... they're just grieving about my father's death..."

You can feel his cold leather glove trace your jaw.

"I'll take very good care of them..."

[juustozzi]

soccer club shenanigans! also, don't mind the alt uniforms, these were drawn while I was writing and while they're not exactly fic art they share the vibe

[britcision]

Dungeon Meshi omegaverse headcanons because I can

1) the different human folks have different versions and different degrees but we’re gonna focus on the elves because I want to

2) afab alphas and amab omegas are just a thing that happens, it’s pretty normal and not considered worth commenting on unless you’re really insular, so while there are some sexist stereotypes (like that afab alphas are more attentive parents, although not as good as any omega) it’s not on the “male omega bad” side

It’s about 20% of the alpha/omega population (and betas make up about 60% of the human population so 8% of people total), so not hugely common but way more common than red hair and only a little less than being left handed

Some amab omegas can carry children (especially with magical assistance) and it’s actually a little easier for afab alphas to sire children, since that’s a one time output rather than a prolonged physical process

You also get things like secondary sex homosexuality (alpha-for-alpha gay, ditto omegas) which are basically ignored anyway unless someone’s fussing about bloodlines, and difficult cases like alpha-presenting-omega; an omega who reads like an alpha in scent and all other aspects except when they’re on heat

That’s hard to detect before the cycle actually starts and causes rampant excitement every time, but since alphas being with other alphas isn’t considered noteworthy except in high society, it’s also only a problem around the cycle

3) just like they don’t have sexual dimorphism, there’s no visible external differences between elves in secondary sex either

They’re more about magic than physical force, so you might be able to tell the difference based on their magical specialties (that’s how elves claim they do it but it’s bullshit they are lying)

This often confuses other folks who do; tallmen alphas are physically larger and more muscular (Falin’s an alpha) and omegas are smaller and slimmer, but all the elves are small and slim so tallmen often think they’re all omegas this is not helped by

4) almost all the Canaries are omegas; service is a doubly beneficial arrangement for noble families, who offer their children to show their loyalty just like canon… and to keep inconvenient extra bloodlines from cropping up if those extra omegas have kids

All of the wardens are omegas (except possibly Flamela; this is actually another reason why she’s not allowed into dangerous dungeons) and most of the prisoners are too, although occasionally alphas are allowed to serve

This is not considered a risk because while alphas are more aggressive, elves also consider them less capable leaders since they’re more likely to lose their heads and act rashly when riled up (like when Izutsumi was a kobold from the changelings and had to be stopped from fighting til she died) and just generally less capable, so an alpha convict with their magic bound isn’t considered a serious threat to a capable omega warden

Alphas also don’t necessarily fight to the death, since there’s all the posturing and fighting for position

Elf omegas, on the other hand, will tear your fucking throat out at the first sign of violence because if a fight gets to them it needs to be ended immediately to protect the babies

They have absolutely weaponized this against the demon and the dungeons by intentionally putting their omegas in combat situations

Alpha prisoners are usually only assigned to a single warden for the duration of their service, because they tend to get overprotective of their omega squad-mates and don’t handle personnel shifts well

5) The wardens get sterilized as part of their training, the prisoners are required to be on birth control for the duration of their service but can also request sterilization - birth control’s usually by magical implant so it’s not a huge inconvenience but listen if you want that ute yote it’s yoten

6) Heat cycles absolutely do sync up between themselves and with rut cycles, and the squads get mandatory downtime for a month on either side; luckily they’re elves so they’re on multi-annual cycles rather than seasonal

(Elves who find out how often short-lived omegas go into heat tend to react with shock and sympathy and an immediate “ooooh this is why you die so early”)

(More than one squad have accidentally maimed their alpha if they have a surprise heat)

How a squad handles group heat is up to them, suppressants are part of the basic gear, as are knotting toys, and there’s a whole industry of “heat hotels” where any human single omegas can go to ride out a heat safely either alone with toys or with vetted beta staff (on birth control) of their choosing - the Canaries semi-regularly take them over and occasionally incite orgies because while the heat demands a knot what elves accept as dominance is magical power, not position, so the strongest arcanist in a squad usually reads as an “alpha” to other humans despite their actual sexes

And since there’s no actual rules that omegas can’t hook up for a cycle at the heat house, so long as everyone arrives and agrees before they go into heat it’s a “the more the merrier” situation

They also sync up between different types of humans, but elves sync very slowly and have such long cycles almost no one notices

For no godly reason gnomes sync the fastest but they have relatively mild cycles and don’t seem to mind

Fuck it cycle table:

Dwarves - 6 month cycle - 1 week rut/heat

Elves - 2-3 year cycle - 2 weeks rut/heat

Gnomes - 4 month cycle - 5 days rut/heat

Half-foots(feet?) - 2 month cycle - 3 days rut/heat

Oni - 2 month cycle - 5 days rut/heat

Tall-men - 2 month cycle - 5-7 days rut/heat

7) Mithrun’s squad are extra goddamn protective of him because his cycle also got broken and doesn’t sync properly, but he deadass will not notice when he’s on heat and just continues as usual, while radiating pheromones. He also will not take suppressants any more than he’ll drink or eat

Luckily he also almost never actually goes onto heat, so he just vibes and trains while everyone else is on their heat break and occasionally gets impatient and starts bar fights

Lycion’s been a permanent squad member despite not being an alpha (he’s a beta but the werewolf gets a knot anyway sooooo he’s busy on heat breaks) because he can smell when Mithrun’s going onto heat ahead of time, way before anyone else can

Mithrun’s gone into heat twice since rejoining the Canaries. Cithis, Otta, and Fleki bitch about this constantly with varying degrees of envy, right up until the next time it happens out of the blue and they have to drag his dumb ass out of a dungeon because literally no one was prepared

Otta’s not even an omega she’s a beta too so she uses their heat breaks to flirt with half-foot women which is why she has enough time to date despite being a convict death squad member

(And yeah she’ll “help out” any half-foot lady omegas if they’re not actually already in heat when they arrive at a house the squad’s taken over and can hold a conversation first cuz while technically everyone else can still go through their heat alone and ignore the elves…

Well they’re loud, they’re expansive, Fleki is allergic to personal space, even in heat Cithis has enough top energy to dominate a city block, and Lycion only has one knot and will occasionally need to sleep - more than the heated omegas. They like sharing and there are no consequences provided the hotel has a room big enough)

Fleki will absolutely still use her familiar while she’s on heat and she will not remember to tell anyone she’s doing it, but since she basically just flies away until the next wave demands she get fucked again it’s not all that different from taking a nap from anyone else’s perspective

(Flying in heat is nowhere near as good as flying on shrooms but it does still beat reality)

(Everyone. Everyone has asked her if she’s fucked in the bird. Absolutely everyone. And she never specifies but makes absolutely filthy and biologically unlikely insinuations.

She absolutely did try it once. And since her familiar has genitals at her own discretion, and didn’t google bird genitals before hand, results were Mid)

Cithis has been denied access - or have had people attempt to deny her access anyway - to more than one heat house because absolutely no one who is not an elf believes she’s not an alpha without proof

All the elves have Elf Twink Disease so their alphas aren’t buff and macho anyway and everyone knows it, so her sheer Step On Me Please energy has gotten the whole squad into trouble

(She blatantly refuses to do anything about this and will often make the situation worse for fun or profit until Mithrun tells her to stop)

8) half elves like Marcille have the extremely exciting and unfortunate bonus of potentially being crosses in secondary sex too, just like the non-linear aging - something about the long-lived/shorter-lived magic combo and the elves’ own permutations in particular mean that other human-alpha and elf-beta/omega sometimes happen on the same gene, and other human-omega and elf-beta/alpha is also more likely than elf-alpha and other human-alpha coming together

Some half elves get lucky and get double beta, Marcille did not and got beta-omega (which is at least easier than alpha-omega, the rarest combo but hey if you’re flexible or magically inclined with that one you can kinda just go fuck yourself)

This is why she gets super over-protective of the people she cares about (see: get back in the kitchen while I take over the world), but doesn’t really have any kind of self preservation instincts or a desire not to run face first into danger and explode it

She’s never had a heat cycle and if she’s lucky she might never get one, so long as the beta side stays dominant

But Falin’s an alpha and possibly the person who activated Marcille’s omega side to get that over-protectiveness in the first place, so if (when) they do mate Marcille is gonna learn some fun and exciting things about her body

(Toshiro’s an omega, but his family insisted on raising him like an alpha anyway because Oldest Son. Falin was the one to actually tell him he was an omega, because Maizuru was ordered not to

This is part of why he’s so incredibly jealous of Laios, who is an actual alpha as well as autistic as hell, so Shuro’s not only jealous of his complete disregard for social rules, he’s also exceedingly jealous that all of the “alpha” stuff he has to work incredibly hard to fake comes to Laios completely naturally

Laios had no idea Shuro was an omega at all (possibly Nakamoto family scent blockers, possibly Laios Not Paying Attention) and has actually been idolizing Shuro as the Manliest Best Alpha To Ever Alpha - like all them flashbacks of Shuro standing between downed Laios and danger

Maybe Laios doesn’t find out until after Falin’s revived successfully. It blows his mind. Toshiro weeps in frustration.)

9) fuck it it’s official, alpha Flamela, that’s why her twin was taken (twin was an omega, elves still think alphas are too impulsive and hot headed to rule) and Flamela wasn’t stopped from running off to join the Canaries

They did try to skip the sterilizing step with her, cuz while the coal black skin definitively doesn’t reliably pass from parent to child there’s still a chance her kids would have better odds of inheriting it

Flamela lost her shit when she found out she was being treated differently from other wardens (doing other elven alphas absolutely no favours about that “too impulsive” thing because she genuinely didn’t even notice that what was happening was that she wasn’t being given invasive and permanently life altering often nonconsensual surgery) and threatened to do it to herself if they wouldn’t do her

Someone suggested they fake it, put her under, make the cut, leave everything alone so she just got a scar, someone else pointed out she might be slightly less knife happy afterwards, the smartest person in the room pointed out she would be Exceedingly Fucking Knife Happy if she ever found out and possibly kill them all

She was sterilised at her own insistence but her genetic materials (eggs and sperm why not) were stored rather than discarded in case she changes her mind

This has also alienated her from the other wardens because not only is she the only one who actually volunteered to be a Canary, she volunteered for the whole thing and genuinely doesn’t get why any of them are unhappy about it

Rut isn’t all that fun and she doesn’t think heat sounds good either, since her default position with people is distrust and keeping them at arm’s length, so she always rides hers out alone and assumes others will too - but both sound way way way better to her than having to carry or raise a child

She’s not cruel or aggressive about it but she’s about as tactful as a rhinoceros and just gets loudly confused, so it’s not worth trying to confide in her or bond over the extra level of being discarded by their families

(And since she hates gossip and will aggressively curtail it, she only finds out what anyone else on her squad does for heat if she actually has to help arrange it)

She was so offended to find out she’d still have rut cycles after surgery. The one thing absolutely every other warden can agree with her on

Most elf alphas are actually significantly more level headed and stable than Flamela, she still has her entirely independent emotional baggage but she is what all the elven stereotypes say an alpha is

There’s some real world racist bs about Black women and especially darker skinned Black women being less feminine, but it’s bullshit and fuck that it’s illegal here, alpha women are just a thing that happens and it has nothing to do with gender

Flamela’s not especially feminine either by elf standards, but that’s her decision and she is beauty, she is grace, she will stab you in the face and you’d deserve it if you commented

10) communication pixies are affected by their maker’s heat, but not by getting anything similar themselves; it’s an intentional part of the spell, the pixie gets all sleepy and “drunk” and will not connect any calls without a specific code word, because absolutely no one wanted heat-sex pixie butt dials

This isn’t just an elf thing but it is in the elf-magic version of the spell; if you make a pixie with gnome-magic instead there’s a 75% chance it will also go dozy during your heat buuuuut a 25% chance it just keeps going as normal

General consensus is that the ephemeral will of magic either can’t tell when humans go into heat or considers the occasional magic butt dial necessary to the balance of the universe

A lot of older gnomes just plain don’t care about any of it and think it’s a bit funny when anyone else makes such a big fuss, since it’s just another part of life

(If Falin ever makes a pixie you KNOW it stays active during her rut you KNOW Marcille gets a butt dial dear gods is this how the Farcille confession happens in this AU)

11) orcs and kobolds don’t actually have secondary sexes by dint of not being human (wrong number of bones) and tend to consider the whole thing a little weird, but not their problem

Some orcs suspect the whole alpha-omega thing is why humans get violently territorial for basically no reason, and the sympathetic ones tend to be very gentle with someone once they learn they’re an alpha or omega

Big “oh you poor thing that sounds so difficult, let’s make sure you don’t get over excited” energy

———

I’ll add more later if I come up with anything else, but by all means hop into my sand box and play with anything you like!

A bunch of other characters and their alignments in no particular order:

Kabru - beta, but one of his only decent spells is to fake either alpha or omega pheromones at will. He’ll play any of the roles to get what he wants and what he thinks will serve him best

(He almost always plays omega with elves because 1) they don’t respect alphas the way most other humans do and 2) they’re gonna read him as a child anyway, so having specific “adult” pheromones might occasionally sway them to respect him a little more, but they’re also more likely to subconsciously protect him

He tried alpha on Mithrun when they were alone in the dungeon for all of 15 minutes before determining Mithrun couldn’t tell the difference

(Mithrun could he just doesn’t care))

Namari - alpha, works well with usually being the party tank, but as a dwarf her instincts are more “provide for needs” than “fight off enemies” which is why she loves armour and wants other people to wear it

Senshi - omega, he’s going to see the babies fed by any means necessary (but yeah it’s part of why his mining crew didn’t let him fight the griffin, he hadn’t fully hit his second puberty but they Had Suspicions)

However, since he lived alone most of his life (and was surrounded by alphas before that) he presents almost entirely as an alpha, and unless he hits heat no non-dwarfs will ever notice he isn’t

There’s not a huge difference between dwarf alpha, beta, and omegas anyway, but the alphas tend more towards crafts and making or procuring physical items to see to their loved ones’ needs while the omegas are more focused on acts of service

(Physically they’re just all Like That, like the elves)

Every dwarf who has ever met Senshi clocked him as an alpha in the first five minutes, and clocked him equally hard as an omega ten minutes later and had some mild cognitive dissonance. None of them mention it because that’s Rude

Izutsumi - alpha cat, hates you all

Chilchuck - tallest skinniest half foot omega you ever did see. Has adopted his entire union since he doesn’t see his girls anymore. His wife was a beta and the only reason she got them in the “divorce” was the girls had already moved out

(She moved in with Puckpatti)

Chilchuck is constantly low-grade losing his shit about it

Maizuru - omega, deeply dislikes how Toshiro’s father has treated him and does genuinely believe deep down that an omega like Toshiro might be a better leader specifically because he’s more empathic and considerate than their society’s demanded alpha behaviour

She will be miffed to be told the elves agree with her though

Rin - beta, accidentally presents as an omega because she picked it up in self defence while living with the elves. She does not like it but she does tend to keep herself closed off, avoid skin contact, and comes off as trying too hard not to seem meek, so people with opinions on strangers’ sexes assume she’s an omega who escaped a bad situation

(They’re not fully wrong, she hates that they’re not)

Kaka and Kiki - Kaka’s an omega, Kiki’s a beta but she intentionally presents as an alpha to keep anyone from noticing or saying shit about her brother

If she’s loud and noticeable, they won’t wonder why he’s shyer and quiet

(Kaka 1000% imprinted on Namari the first time she saved his life she is his big strong alpha he is a helpless fucking puppy so even though he’s self conscious about his height he can’t help wanting her to like his legs

Unfortunately for him Namari’s gay as hell and Kiki’s extremely into her as well and he wants his twin to be happy so he’ll be pining forever and make do with a familial alpha bond)

(Namari will never know she coulda had her pick)

Mikbell - beta cuck and a scab

Holm - the only actual alpha on Kabru’s team, has definitely noticed him switching up the pheromones and he mostly doesn’t care, he thinks that secondary-sex-fluidity is actually a really good quality in a leader (it shows he respects all of them and acknowledges the strengths they all have)

But when it comes to his sister Nope Nope Nope buster don’t you dare seduce her with some mocked up alpha juice

His sister is also an alpha but she’s alpha-for-alpha gay and gender bisexual and he’s not having it

Daya - omega, but prefers to present as an alpha because she’s actually just not that comfortable with the stereotypical omega “role”

(Again for dwarves, it’s mostly “will do caretaking” over “will procure necessary items”, but her birth clan were heavy traditionalists who considered an omega’s primary job to be “be pregnant” so she’s tossed the whole situation)

(Her partner is an alpha and oh boy did he have to work to prove he was nothing like the boys back home. He’s fully happy to be the caretaker while she brings home the bacon and she loves him for that

Most dwarves will assume he’s the omega unless told otherwise, and they’re both very comfortable with that on the extremely rare occasion that it comes up since Island dwarves usually don’t care anyway)

Kuro - kobold, not his problem, but oh boy he’s adopted Mikbell as his puppy and is gonna do his best taking care of this man

He’s fully aware Mik’s a mature adult (despite how often he pretends to be a kid to fuck with people), he can smell his pheromones, he just believes Mikbell needs a father or at least older brother figure to guide him more than just a buddy

(He and Kabru also suspect Mik might be into non sexual (probably?) age play, since he claims he acts like a kid to fuck over assholes who assume half-foots can’t be real adults, but he does it A Lot and with joy and fervour)

(Mikbell can never learn this)

Grandpa Tansu - cranky lil alpha gnome

Granny Floke - also a lil alpha gnome, they’re also alpha-for-alpha gay, but she likes watching her husband get all loud and up in arms so she doesn’t bother getting involved much

(Full Madame Giry from the good Phantom of the Opera productions, she only has to say one word to put her foot down but she actually is a nice smiling little old lady… which makes it scarier when she does it)

Tade - alpha oni, but in oni omegas and afabs are actually much bigger so she’s still pretty small for an oni (bigger than amab alphas though)

This does tend to confuse pretty much everyone else but those little buggers come out BIG and HORNED and it’s just better all around to have more space for the lil niblets

This is why Marcille’s oni form was head and shoulders too big to be seen standing next to her party she’d’ve been around a foot and a half taller than Tade because I said so

Thistle - oh the saddest most broken lil elf omega, he was in a bad way before Delgal’s dad died and then when Delgal did the “only you can save us we’re all gonna die” Thistle reverse-pioneered the Canaries by going into omega-murder-mode so hard he dungeoned an entire kingdom

And since there was not a single alpha older than him anywhere to be found he just never got to turn that off (if only someone scruffed the little bastard idk if that’s an omegaverse thing but the imagery is peak)

Imma headcanon he never actually had a cycle by dint of not finishing elf-puberty before he went Kingdom In A Bottle and stopped aging but honestly any flavour of fuckery and whenever you think he stopped aging is all good

(Since not only was Yaad born post dungeon, he grew to young adulthood and other people did age, they just didn’t die, so aging was for sure happening for like 20 years post dive)

Winged Lion - the alpha and the omega solely for the joke

If you can think of anyone else or if you have any questions lemme know and I’ll spin something off the dome for ya! (This totally wasn’t prompted by me nearly having the first full chapter of. Something. Ready to go. 👀)

If anyone else wants to chop and screw with any bits of this for any reason go wild and all I ask is a tag in because I like free candy as much as anyone else. Despite Farcille commentary it’s technically ship agnostic because honestly that’s the least interesting part of an omegaverse AU for me I’m here to get weird with sex and gender roles and cultural variance

I haven’t actually played in this sand pit much before so we can all thank/blame Omega Jason Todd week for finally tipping my interest over by giving me new levels of fuckery, we stan a 6’ omega built like a tank

[oifaaa]

I'm just wondering why they called you a LOW LEVEL beta.

Maybe it's the Tim vibes.

The low level thing is what's really getting me bc I don't really understand what it means? Like I've never read a abo fic were they had rankings

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

So how’s it going on the writing?

Its going- Im going through my asks and then about to start for the day so we shall see!!

(also I sent you the link right??)

[mortellanarts]

Today I am posting my ZTD Aftermath fic on the only thematically appropriate day I could think of, the first day of a new year! Especially fitting since it took almost exactly a whole year to write these 45k words lol happy 2025 everyone ♡

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Just thinking about Kamala Khan and her boyfriend Kon-El, and her two boyfriends-in-law, Tim and Bernard, and look. She and Bernard would be allowed to hang out unsupervised ONE (1) time. Tim and Kon lost contact with them for a week and when they finally popped back up they had uncovered a centuries old conspiracy like :DDD wym you thought we were dead or kidnapped or worse? what's worse than dead or kidnapped? oh yah don't touch that it's cursed :) very sweet of you to worry DON'T YOU DARE TAKE THAT MOUNTAIN DEW IT'S MINE

They drive home because the logistics of Kon flying all of them is a bit dicey and ten minutes into the drive Bernard and Kamala are snoring in the backseat

(To be clear, Tim and Kon do NOT count as supervision)