#sorta- just to be safe ^^

[dizzybizz]

i haven't drawn iguin in so long.....

[mooreaux]

Emmrich: I do suppose Nevarra's grand displays might seem exotic to you all-

Lucanis: "exotic" is not how I would describe your dead body collection!

- banter as we are being attacked by corpses in the necropolis is absolutely priceless Lucanis is a gem

[sepezzz]

magnus charas pt.2 !

/ tma s1 spoilers

[starflungwaddledee]

a light shines through a cloud of colour fumes and i can feel the warmth of the sun

Gravity, let me go ♫⋆｡♪ destroyer - of monsters and men

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ kirbytober 2024 #01 ★⋆ dream // revenge // song

[chiangyorange]

these two mean so much to me. theyre just little guys. size of 1 sauce... molecules even......

heres my impression of the ending of eow. ueueuUEUEUEUEUEUEU🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[justaz]

thinking about arthur who has crazy quick reflexes and is a relatively light sleeper who woke up to the sound of someone in his room and saw merlin crouched down messing with his keys before softly asking “whatre you doing?…before breakfast?”

[primarinite]

i'm a big fan of whatever is wrong with them

[spiderfights]

ULTRATOBER #1—favourite soundtrack

[myceliumelium]

girl idk what to tell you, sometimes you've just gotta rip the blorbo apart

[mazzystar24]

You know what REALLY irritates me?

The way people keep criticising the buddie fandom as delusional for seeing things in the show and are pretending that writing and editing and camera angles and costuming isn’t made up of intentional choices

Like you guys do realise there are wholeass departments of people doing things on purpose here right? Like clothes aren’t decided by eh this looks good enough🤷🏽‍♀️ cameras don’t pan places just for funsies, scripts and scenes aren’t included just because🤷🏽‍♀️

Like shipping aside, like that’s just how shows/movies work like it’s all preplanned and intentional

like I beg some of these fans before they hop on acting like everyone is crazy, to just spend a few minutes looking at how some costume departments explain their intentions for specific clothes or camera crews/editing departments talk about why they use certain angles or shots, or writers explain why tiny moments seasons ago sometimes are preplanned and crafted

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[misc-obeyme]

weird question but do we... know if the demons are fertile at all??? obviously they have sex drives,,, but do we hear of any kids? i mean if it comes down to it adopting luke is always an option. just going to have to wrestle him from Simon if you're with anyone other than him

🐈‍⬛

Note: discussion of fertility and having kids (just in case)

Hello there, 🐈‍⬛ anon!

As far as I know, the only demon kids we hear about are Diavolo, Mephistopheles, and presumably Mephisto's little brother.

Diavolo tells us that his mother died after giving birth to him, so I think it's safe to assume that demons are fertile to some extent.

Of course, there's always the fan favorite theory that Dia's mom was a human or an angel. Which would mean at the very least that demons are fertile enough to have children with other species. So even if this turns out to be canon, I think it's still safe to assume demons are fertile.

We hear a lot less about Mephisto and his brother, but the brother certainly sounds like he's still considered a kid. And Mephisto says something about being born to be Dia's friend, so generally I think most of us imagine them as having been kids together.

Due to this, I think it's perfectly reasonable for any of the demons to have kids. It seems that it may be difficult, though. Because if demons could have kids as easily (and sometimes accidentally) as humans, then likely there would be a lot more demon kids than we hear about. (And possibly a lot more demons in general.)

I like to think that the demon population is much smaller than it is for humans (by like a lot 'cause dang there are a lot of humans). I think of it as like maybe being around 8 million in the city proper (like the size of New York City). And then the rest is more scattered and in a lot of less populated cities and such. Maybe around 20 million? And some of that would also be non demons, since they talk about vampires and whatnot else. And also some of those are gonna be those small type demons that sound like they're fairy sized.

Anyway, all of this is to say that if demons are popping out kids at the same rates as humans for all their long lives, there'd be WAY more of them. Like the whole world times five maybe. I dunno, it sounds like the live for thousands upon thousands of years, but still might only have one or two kids that whole time.

So they either have amazing contraception or it's actually rather difficult for them to actually have a child.

Then there's the question of how demons might be created from magic - whether exploding out of a different demon's emotions Satan-style or possibly just magical spells that allow one to create a child.

In the case of MC, I think it's possible. They might need to use some magic to make it happen (depending on how easy it is for any of the other demons to impregnate MC/get impregnated by MC), but it definitely sounds like something that can happen.

I like the idea of MC just adopting random demon kids, though. 'Cause you're right, you'll have to wrestle Simeon for Luke lol!

[witheredhope2007]

CAN'T THINK, NEED DRINK

WRONG KIND OF THIRST.

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [3/5]

Whatever It's Worth

“For whatever it’s worth, I think it always looks fine. I think you fuss over it too damn much, but regardless… it’s… fine. You always look fine to me. You’d look fine even if you didn’t have any hair at all.”

A small smile blooms across your features as his words sink in. “That’s… that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Sun.”

You turn and he lets the ends of your hair slip from his hands, looking a bit caught off guard at your sudden motion. You ignore his false eyes and look directly into the camera in the center of his screen. “Thank you.”

He remains frozen for a moment before his display dims to black and he turns, quickly scrubbing the worst remnants of conditioner off of his hands and onto a nearby towel. “I think your hair has been conditioned enough.”

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Sun attempts some level-headed honesty with his hands in your hair, and Moon gets a little overzealous when it comes to his unofficial position as Household Chef.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 4,779

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [implied EDNOS] [invasion of privacy] [implication of past self-harming behavior] [Reader has their period (not graphically described)] [discussion of menstruation] [discussion of various foods and nutrition] [one (1) use of a gendered term for Reader] [discussion and feelings of dysphoria] [eating]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3 (you are here)]

That I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth.

After rinsing the remainder of lightly-tinted soap suds out of your hair, off of your body, and down the drain, you bend down to turn the shower off. Gently squeezing the worst of the water out of your locks, you straighten back up and pull the shower door aside.

Then you shout.

“SUN! What the fuck are you doing?!”

You quickly step behind the blurry frosted glass of the shower door, leaving only your head peeking around the edge. You shiver in the relatively cold air that rushes to fill the shower stall as you await an answer. The solar automaton is currently leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and casual as ever, monitor flipped around 180 degrees in what you assume was meant to be a silent assurance that he wasn’t watching you.

“I have a question.”

Your eyes pinch closed and your features scrunch up in frustration, silently asking any higher power out there to grant you the patience to deal with this nonsense. “And it couldn’t wait until I got dressed?”

He shrugs. “I don’t see why it would need to.”

You silently press your forehead against the cool metal of the shower door’s frame.

“…Are you decent yet or must I continue admiring the grout between the tiles on this wall behind me?”

You huff, reaching out of the shower and grabbing your bathrobe off of its designated hook. “Just one… damn second…” You cinch the rope around your waist and step gingerly out onto the bath mat. “Okay, I’m ‘decent.’ Now—pray tell—what do you need to ask me?”

He leans his upper body away from the wall, rays retracting to give himself enough clearance to flip his monitor around. His rays slide back out in tandem after he turns his head to face you, and he rests his shoulders against the wall once more. “I was wondering why you’ve taken three showers today.”

You stand there, blinking in disbelief. “That’s it?”

“Yes. It’s… concerning. I wanted to make sure you weren’t up to any… harmful behaviors in here while left unsupervised.”

You roll your eyes. “‘Left unsupervised…’ What is this, some kind of inpatient program? Christ, Sun, this is my house! Can’t I catch a break?”

You throw your arms up in frustration, and he doesn’t answer you immediately. It isn’t until you deflate, dropping your exaggerated expression and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose that he finally responds in a quieter tone. “You… concern me. I don’t know what to do.”

You sigh, trying to reign in your frustration.

Sometimes you forget that he has a lot less experience with being a person than you do.

You try to cut him some slack. “Sun, I appreciate the concern over my wellbeing. But I promise you, the only destructive behavior going on in this bathroom today is the damage I'm doing to my hair.”

He’s quiet, processing your words for a moment before he announces an observation. “It’s a lighter shade than it was this morning.”

You nod. “I sure hope it is. I’ve been in here washing the hell out of it with this fading treatment, trying to get the color I wanted.”

His expression is something between confused and disapproving. “You aren’t supposed to do that. It’s bad for your hair to wash it so much.”

You turn to the mirror and toy with your hair, dismissing him. “Yeah, yeah. Jeez, who are you, my hairdresser?”

He steps into view beside you in the mirror, leaning in closer to examine your hair. “Maybe if you’d gone to one instead of DIY-ing it you’d have gotten the color you wanted.”

You lock eyes with his reflection for a long moment. “…Touché.”

He seems pleased enough with your response, stepping back a bit and watching you futz with your hair in the mirror.

“Have your concerns been quelled now, or…?”

“…I suppose.” He replies, making no move to exit the bathroom.

“…Well then are you gonna just stand there and watch me apply my leave-in conditioner or what?”

He ignores your question, leaning in close to you again. Pinching the end of a damp lock of hair between the pads of his fingers, he hums his dissent. “You really need to quit fucking with your hair if you want to still have any left.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Goodness, the way you worded that almost sounds like a threat!”

His eyes meet yours in the mirror again and he smirks. “No… just a warning.”

He drags the tail end of your hair along the palm of his opposite hand, like idly toying with a paintbrush. “You’re always awfully concerned about the appearance of your hair.”

You cock a brow up at that. “Are you sure that isn’t a threat, Sun?”

A noise escapes him: half-scoff, half-laugh, and he sounds oddly genuine when he reassures you. “It’s not. I just… noticed.”

He releases your hair and you can finally lean far enough away to open the cabinet. “Mhm. What don’t you notice.”

He ignores your comment in favor of hitting you with another set of sudden left-field questions. “Are you afraid of getting older? Or are you afraid of losing control.”

Your hand halts, hovering halfway toward retrieving the conditioner from the cabinet, and drops back down to your side as you turn to face him. “What?”

“I’ve learned that some people dye their hair because they want to appear younger than they are. I’ve also seen many posts online where people describe making drastic changes to their hair while going through something difficult in their life. The concept appears in a number of song lyrics too. It seems to me like an attempt at gaining a sense of control.”

The fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that they’re always asking questions and compiling information about the world around them.

The not-so-fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that they’re always asking questions and compiling information about the world around them.

You’d liken it to having a fully grown adult with the curiosity and learning capacity of a child, if you didn’t want to feel even weirder about your “Creator x Creation” dynamic than you already do sometimes.

“While I… appreciate your attempts to psychoanalyze me based on my hair-dyeing habits, I regret to inform you that it’s neither of those things for me, Sunny.” You consider it a moment more, and add on. “…As far as I’m aware, at least.”

His head tilts to the side a bit. “You don’t have to patronize me.”

“I… wasn’t?”

“You used that name for me. ‘Sunny.’ It made your statement sound… patronizing.”

Another fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that you get to clear up all sorts of little miscommunications.

“Oh, no, I—I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m sorry, Sun. That wasn’t my intention.”

He doesn’t let it go so quickly. “Based on my calculations, a nickname like that tends to be used in one of three ways—patronizing, dismissive, or affectionate. Care to clarify which one it was?”

You level him with an unamused stare. “No, I don’t care to clarify.”

You then turn to retrieve the conditioner from the cabinet, effectively shutting down that line of questioning. You grab the body lotion while you’re at it, and as you set your items down on the counter, you attempt to free yourself of your overly-curious bathroom companion. “Unless you’re waiting around to help me put this stuff in my hair, I'm afraid it’s time for you to go find something else to do for a little while, Sun.”

His response is… unexpected. “I… can help.”

What has gotten into this guy recently? Used to be you had to fight to get one nice word out of him and now here he is playing ‘20 Questions’ and offering to condition your hair?

“I… didn’t expect you to actually—”

“If you didn’t want me to offer then why’d you ask?”

You squint at him, unamused. “Sun, c’mon, I know you grasp the concepts of sarcasm and rhetoric.”

Once again ignoring your statement, he pushes himself away from the wall and holds out his upturned palms in an open gesture of offering. “Would you like me to help or not?”

You’re quite sure he expects you to turn him down, so you agree to his offer, if for no other reason than to subvert his expectations. “You know what? Yeah, sure. I’d love the help, Sunny.”

He freezes for a moment—processing—but you’ve gotta admit, he collects himself surprisingly fast, apparently feeling up to the challenge.

Once you explain how much of the product to use and how to apply it, you quickly find yourself staring into the mirror, watching Sun carefully and methodically work conditioner into your hair and wondering how you got here.

Eventually a question pops up and you break through his focused silence. “Does it really look lighter than it did earlier today?”

“…Yes. But if you want my honest opinion it looked just fine before you scrubbed the life out of it three times.”

You huff in surprise at his bluntness. “Damn, okay, tell me how you really feel…”

“When have you ever known me to mince my words?”

“I know, I know. It’s fine. I appreciate your honesty.”

Silence settles over the two of you for another few moments, but he eventually pipes back up. “For whatever it’s worth, I think it always looks fine. I think you fuss over it too damn much, but regardless… it’s… fine. You always look fine to me. You’d look fine even if you didn’t have any hair at all.”

A small smile blooms across your features as his words sink in. “That’s… that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Sun.”

You turn and he lets the ends of your hair slip from his hands, looking a bit caught off guard at your sudden motion. You ignore his false eyes and look directly into the camera in the center of his screen. “Thank you.”

He remains frozen for a moment before his display dims to black and he turns, quickly scrubbing the worst remnants of conditioner off of his hands and onto a nearby towel. “I think your hair has been conditioned enough.”

Your tone quickly becomes teasing. “Aww, is somebody flustered?”

He reaches for the doorknob. “It’s time for me to walk Zero. I trust you can moisturize the rest of yourself without my assistance.”

Quickly making his very smooth retreat, as your laughter subsides, you’re left there to apply your lotion in thoughtful silence.

That I would be great if I was no longer Queen.

“Does this feel more like an ‘apple-cinnamon’ or ‘banana-walnut’ kind of day?”

You release a soft sigh as you raise your head from where it’d been… briefly planted atop your crossed arms, and you lean back into your seat at the kitchen table. “You really don’t have to do every single thing for me, Moon.”

His monitor clicks, spinning a few degrees back and forth to accompany his playful rebuttal. “And leave me with no task to occupy these idle hands? Why, I feel like that’d be just cruel.” The pout he wears doesn’t do much to convince you, nor to ease the guilt you feel.

He can tell as much, and tries a more serious approach. “Star… you’re menstruating. From what I can tell, this is a more painful period than normal. I’m sure in no small part due to the excess stress you’ve been under this past month. You deserve to rest as much as possible right now.”

“I figured you’d be in favor of me getting up and moving around. Isn’t that supposed to help in the long-run?”

He nods. “It can. But it tends to help the most when stretching and physical activity is maintained throughout the entire monthly cycle, not just once you’re already bleeding and in pain.”

His explanation is straightforward, but soft spoken, everything in his tone and body language obviously trying not to offend, accuse, or criticize. “Besides, bugging you to exercise tends to fall more under Sun’s jurisdiction, and he’s had his reasons for prioritizing other aspects of your well-being this month.”

Speak of the devil, Moon’s other half strides into the kitchen with Zero trailing closely behind. He has no trouble falling into the conversation. “I can help you through some gentle stretches later today if you’d like, but I second the notion that you should rest right now. I don’t need to hear any more groans and curses from you like I heard after you insisted on cleaning up the living room and prepping your own dinner last night.”

You rest your chin in your palm. “I ‘insisted’ because I just… I feel like I put too much on you guys. You don’t deserve to have to do all this shit for me.”

Sun scoffs, speaking with his back to you as he pulls open a cabinet door. “Trust me, you’re doing us all a favor by letting this one over here dote on you. I fear he’d go mad if there wasn’t always some task he could busy himself with, and he seems to favor any task that falls under the realm of taking care of you.” He turns to face you, mug in hand. “Now, what do you want to drink?”

You’d laugh at the juxtaposition of his words and his actions, but the deep pain of another cramp sets in and you weakly wave a hand in defeat. “Just some hot water, please.” He hums in confirmation and moves to grab the kettle. You turn your focus back to Moon. “I’ll let you… appease your instincts. It’s kinda my fault that you’ve got ‘em in the first place.”

His expression brightens, round eyes curling into his signature crescents. “Good! Now, shall I list your options again?”

You shake your head and hum a negative, mulling it over for a moment as you take hold of the steaming mug of water that Sun quietly slides in front of you. “Uhh… actually, can I just have it plain today?”

Moon smiles softly, head twisted back over his shoulder to look at you while he pulls a carton of dry oats from the pantry. “Of course, star. Would you like some sugar on it or do you want it truly plain?”

You shove aside the inner voice whispering to you about ‘empty calories’. “…I guess a little brown sugar wouldn’t hurt.”

Moon brightens a little at your answer. “Good choice! I hear that brown sugar gives it a maple syrup-y taste thanks to the molasses. Oh, that makes me think of pancakes! And waffles! And french toast! I should make one of those tomorrow. How does that sound?”

You smile at his growing excitement over tomorrow’s breakfast, in spite of the fact that he won’t even get to partake. Another cramp sets in as you respond and you try to keep the strain out of your voice. “They all sound good, but I don’t know if I can choose right now…”

He gently places a small pot of water on the stove, turning the burner’s dial with practiced precision. “That’s alright, there’s no rush! It’s just some—heh—food for thought!”

Sun groans at the joke, and Moon defends it. “Hey, no—that was a good one!”

Zero noses at Sun’s hand, stealing his attention before he can begin to debate with Moon. As you passively watch him pull the dog’s breakfast from the fridge, a random thought occurs. “Do we still have any Ruffles left?”

Moon opens a different cabinet and shuffles a few bags around in his search. “Weeee… do!”

You’re hesitant to request the odd combination, but your craving wins the inner battle. “Can I… have some of those too?”

“You certainly can!”

Sun reaches past Moon to grab Zero’s bowl from the dish rack, speaking beneath his mechanical breath. “Sugar and salt, what a breakfast.”

“They’re fine choices!” Moon chipperly responds, the word ‘fine’ punctuated by a small smack to the back of Sun’s monitor.

Sun’s rays retract as he ducks down and steps back, distancing himself from Moon’s reach. “I never said they weren’t.” He sets Zero’s bowl on the counter with emphasis. “But you might want to throw some sort of multivitamin in with that salty-sweet mix.”

“I always see to it that they meet their daily needs, Sun.” Moon’s voice rarely wavers from its amicable tone, but there’s an undercurrent of finality to it now that quiets any further commentary from his other half.

As he stirs the simmering oats on the stove, his monitor turns to face you. “Oh, speaking of! I was thinking about making you something with spinach and tofu for lunch. You could use the iron, and the magnesium might help to ease your cramps. Plus the vitamin C should help you absorb the iron, and- oh! I could add some wild rice, or potatoes. The additional B vitamins should help the magnesium, and they support progesterone prod—” The kitchen timer dings, stealing his attention and interrupting his ensuing nutritional ramble.

Twisting his head back around, he turns the burner’s dial off. “Anyways—point is—how does that sound to you? I could cube the tofu and toss it into a spinach salad, I could slice and fry it and arrange it together on a sandwich, or I could even sauté the spinach and make a tofu scramble!”

His excited discussion of all of your lunch options is a bit overwhelming to you, considering you haven’t even conquered breakfast yet. Still, you bear in mind that he’s only trying to help, over-enthusiastic as he may be sometimes. “Uhm… the sandwich sounds nice.”

“Alright! Then it shall be yours.” He moves to pass behind you, enroute to retrieve a bowl from the other side of the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your blanket-clad shoulders in a brief embrace. “Anything the Queen of the castle desires is hers upon command.”

You both giggle a bit at his playful expression, and Sun rolls his eyes, accompanied by a dramatic gagging sound. Zero’s happy tail thwacks repeatedly against one leg of the kitchen table. All is well.

Except it isn’t.

As Moon returns to the stove and Sun portions out Zero’s meal, you struggle to fight back the feeling that what he’d just said didn’t sit right.

It had nothing to do with his devotion to service and everything to do with the concept of you being “Queen.” All of this morning’s focus on your menstrual cycle, coupled with this ‘princess’ treatment and compounded by his casual use of feminine terms for you, suddenly has you feeling more like a woman than you suppose you’d like to.

Trying to push the nagging uncomfortable feeling aside, you pull your phone from your sweatpants pocket. You attempt to distract yourself with a mindless scroll through your notifications as the pleasant smell of your breakfast fills the room.

After presenting Zero with her own breakfast, Sun takes a seat across from you at the small table. You can feel his analytical gaze on you, pointedly avoiding eye contact when you glance up from your phone to sip your water.

By the time Moon presents you with your breakfast, the feeling has done nothing but rapidly fester. You try to distract yourself with the meal, but not even the absurd sight of your requested potato chips—on a plate, methodically arranged by size and laid atop one another in a spiral—is enough to rid you of it. You do your best to sound unbothered when you thank him, and he falters as he moves to step away from the table. “You’re very welc-ome… Is, uh… everything okay, star?”

Sun doesn’t beat around the bush. “Something’s wrong. Is the pain getting worse?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just… thinking about something.”

Moon’s hand comes to rest on the back of the nearest empty chair. “Well… talking tends to help people sort their thoughts out, no? We’re all ears if you’d like to get it off your chest.”

You hesitate and Sun straightens in his seat. “If my presence is preventing you from opening up, I can leave the room.”

Your gaze flicks to him, brows knitted. “What? No, no—I… why would you think that?”

He shrugs. If the notion bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. “I’m sure Moon is… the easier of the two of us to talk to. You seemed to be getting more uncomfortable the longer I sat here. Makes sense to me that maybe you’d rather me not hear about whatever’s going on.”

You start to feel a bit guilty that that’s the conclusion he jumped to. “No, Sun, that’s not… I mean, okay—yeah, I could feel you watching me, but just about anyone gets uncomfortable when they know they’re being watched. Your penchant for staring isn’t… you’re not keeping me from opening up.” You look him directly in the eye. “There isn’t anything I’d say to one of you that I wouldn’t want the other to hear. I don’t want either of you thinking that.”

Sun’s fingertips drum along the table and his faceplate clicks to the side. “Okay then, what is stopping you?”

You pull in a deep breath, internally debating whether it’s even worth explaining.

“You… don’t have to tell us, if you really don’t want to.”

You give Moon a tired smile, opening your mouth only for a defeated sigh to fall out. “It’s… nothing, really. Stupid, even.”

Moon frowns. “Did one of us do or say something wrong?”

“No… I mean—not really. Not intentionally! It’s just…” You groan, resting your forehead in your palms. “I feel uncomfortably… feminine. Today. For some reason.”

He nods slowly. “Oh…kay…”

You attempt to elaborate. “I know I don’t talk about it much. You guys know I use She/They pronouns and there’s no more explanation really required. But… I don’t know. Something lately has just had me wishing I was more masculine. Or—at least more androgynous, I guess. And with all this focus on my period, and—”

Sun, the ever patient listener he is, cuts you off. “Menstruation is not inherently feminine. Any human can have periods if they have a uterus.”

You nod quickly. “Yes—I—I agree, but you’ve gotta take into account that that’s a relatively new take on the concept. It’s a good one, of course, but… a lot of people still associate having periods with being a woman. It’s been so tied to femininity for so long, always seen as a ‘woman’s issue’ that… it can be a difficult thing to un-internalize. It’s a common cause of dysphoria in transmasc and nonbinary people.”

He listens intently, rays slowly circling his head as he considers your point. “Right… right. I see. That makes sense.”

You take a pause to sip your cooling drink and recall where you left off. “It… honestly doesn’t usually bother me this bad. I couldn’t tell you what’s different about this month, it’s just not sitting well with me. But I do appreciate knowing that you two don’t see it as making me feminine. That does help. It’s just…” You shake your head. “Ugh, this is so silly…”

Moon slowly pulls back on the chair he’s been holding onto, stepping around and gently taking a seat. “It’s not silly if it’s bothering you.”

Sun nods, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “He’s right.”

You meet both of their gazes in turn with a small smile before casting your eyes back down to the table. “It’s not a big deal, though. It just… on top of already feeling very feminine, it sat with me wrong when you called me ‘Queen’ earlier. That’s… that’s literally all!” You punctuate your confession with laughter, trying your best to make light of the issue.

Moon’s eyes brighten. “Oh! Oh… oh goodness you’re right! I didn’t even—I didn’t even think…”

You raise a hand out toward him, quick to stop his unnecessary apologies. “It’s not your fault! I promise. You had no clue I was feeling… this way today, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not upset with you, I’m… honestly way more upset with myself that I’m so bothered about it in the first place.”

Sun throws his opinion into the ring. “I don’t think either of you are at fault. Moon didn’t know you were feeling this way, and you can’t really control when you feel this way.”

Moon nods and you follow suit. “Yeah, I was hesitant to say anything because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already feel like I’m… hah—‘overly-sensitive’ right now anyways.”

Sun’s expression quickly shifts to disapproval. “Oh, that stereotype can get fucked. You feel how you feel and that’s that. It’s just as real right now as it would be at any other point in your cycle.”

Your eyes widen at Sun’s insistent tone and Moon chuckles a bit at the sight. “I agree, star. And… I don’t think that you’re making a ‘big deal’ about it at all. Honestly, I think the best way to not make it a big deal is to not be afraid to tell us if we use a term for you that makes you uncomfortable. I’d much rather you tell me than just try to ignore the feeling.” He reaches out to place a hand over yours. “We know that your identity isn’t set in stone. If there’s ever something you want to be called, or something you don’t want to be called, the best thing you can do is just let us know, okay?”

Unable to fight the affectionate smile that pulls at your cheeks, you flip your hand over to grab his properly, and squeeze. “Okay. Yeah, that… I can do that. Thank you for understanding.”

His faceplate contentedly clicks a few degrees to the right, his smile soft. “Thank you for telling us.”

Feeling flustered and just a bit overwhelmed by how surprisingly smooth that went, you give his hand one more squeeze before pulling back to wrap it around your mug instead. You clear your throat as you do so, looking for something less intense to say. “I uh, I guess for now I’d just like to stick to gender-neutral stuff, okay?”

Moon nods eagerly. “Of course! Easy-peasy. I can even remedy what I said earlier if you’d like!” He’s muttering to himself before you can even tell him that that’s not really necessary. “Oh—uhm… hmmm…. what’s a good neutral alternative to ‘Queen’…”

Sun instantly starts listing suggestions. “Monarch. Ruler. Sovereign.” His rays spin a quick round, a tell that he’s taking his internal database search online for more information. “‘Caln’ is apparently a monarch word based on the Q slash K sound of Queen and King, if that sounds better to your ear.”

He suddenly barks a laugh and your brows raise in interest. “What?”

He shakes his head dismissively, still chuckling. “Nothing, just… Quora results. The questions some people pose are truly something.”

Moon’s interest is piqued. “What’d you find that was funny enough to make you laugh?”

Sun’s voice shifts to his ‘default human’ impression. “If Queen Elizabeth announced she was gender fluid, dot-dot-dot…”

You stifle a laugh. “That’s certainly one way to pose the question.”

“What's the rest say?” Moon asks.

Sun waves his hand in dismissal. “I don’t know. The preview was humorous, but I wasn’t compelled to follow the link to the full thing. Quora gives me a headache. I’ve moved on.”

Moon playfully pouts as Sun expands his list of suggestions. “Excellency. Majesty. Highness. Grace. Eminence. …Quing?… Oh, apparently ‘Caln’ is queer. Wait, do they mean queer created or queer exclusive…”

You interject before he spends the next hour falling down a rabbit hole of royal terms. “You could go the meme-y route and call me Liege.”

Moon’s attention shifts back toward you. “Is that one gender neutral?”

“I… think so?” You shrug. “Sounds neutral enough to me. Though I honestly wouldn’t mind a bit of masculinity to counterbalance the way I’m… feeling right now.”

He nods sagely as Sun’s list of suggestions continues to grow, getting more and more obscure as he delves further and further into his search.

You can’t help but laugh a bit as you dig a spoon into your oats, beginning to breathe easier with the reminder that you’re in very considerate company.

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll be back in a few days with part 4! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x

[meamiki]

Can we hear more about the King in the reverse isekai au?

Sure thing!! :D

Funnily enough I’ve been slowly working on and off on a silly lil comic including the King from Reverse Entry AU recently. So have a messy concept sketch of what he’ll look like. Before the mumblings under the cut (design will most likely be tweaked later tbh ASFASD)

To talk about the King I also need to talk a tiny bit about this Siffrin’s background, so here is the briefest of rundowns for them first (which will prob get a more elaborate post some other time):

Siffrin’s parents used to run a storefront (refer to first bullet point section in this post). 

It was their life’s work and they loved that place dearly, since they built it themselves from the ground up.

However, his parent’s passed when he was 19-20, and that storefront ended up falling into his hands.

They were in college at the time, and ended up switching majors to try to get better know-how in running a business.   

But at the end of the day, they had to sell it.

[the above premise was heavily inspired by stuff that happens in a webtoon with the initials GH since it is very near and dear to me actually] 

With that established, onto talking about the King in relation to above!

The King was a family friend to Siffrin’s parents.

The wooden crown is actually a gag gift from one of Siffrin’s parents due to “The King” being a nickname for him from college, it’s not actually his name ASFASDA.

(It’s actually too big for his head and sometimes it falls above his eyes actually LMAO)

For a time, he worked underneath the storefront when he was down on his luck, and he is eternally grateful for that.

After he got back up on his feet, he still made sure to visit from time to time, and even helped lead a couple of the crafts sessions the store did. 

When Siffrin’s parents passed, he was devastated, since they were close, and had known each other basically forever.

And they had done a lot for him when he needed help as well.

But, at the time he was not in the best position to try and help with the storefront from a financial standpoint.

However, he, alongside a couple of others, did try to volunteer around the storefront to help it stay running for a time (it was well-beloved in the community, after all!)

It just wasn’t enough. 

He was one of the few people at the time who was against Siffrin’s decision to sell it off to some random company

(which happened to be the crafts company that Siffrin and the King and literally everyone else now work for now)

Mainly due to knowing what that store meant to Siffrin’s parents / how it helped him when he was at his lowest / overall having lots of good memories tied to it / he didn't want to let one of the last remnants of his friends to be thrown to the wind 

And to end this off, some miscellaneous tidbits on the King in the present time of this AU:

The King actually joined the company specifically because it was the one to buy out the Siffrin Family Storefront™ and usurped what they were doing with it

But uh…. he’s like in the IT department?

And has like no real influence on what goes on with whatever acquisitions the company makes

Or what the company does with them LMAO (without it being probably directly illegal)

Best he can do is be a nuisance to those working around it tbh

Like actively slowing down conversations on fully discontinuing the products attached to the storefront to further stretch out its life?

Or being annoying with tech and just? Not being helpful. When people are having system issues that cause delays in work despite being a main contact.

And in general probably being more nosy in places he probably shouldn’t be tbh.

Stuff like that!

There’s a chance that some of this gets tweaked the slightest bit / elaborated more on later since I am always Indecisive, but those are the vibes!

Thanks for asking :D!!! Also again if anyone has any questions on literally anything from this silly AU feel free to ask!!!!! 

[zinthelost]

Everything And Nothing You Wanted

I have a story roaming around my head about this and it being why Erik quit being Magneto between dofp and xma. Cus something had to have happened right? For him to walk away? What was his post-divorce rock bottom that made him just say fuck it? Cus it wasn't prison. That dramatic bastard walked out of prison and promptly dropped a stadium around the White House. So what did it?

Let's say Mystique runs into him post dofp. And she's pissed cus he tried to kill her. After everything. After all their time working together and history. But she also still wants him and she's frustrated at not getting what she wants. Ever! And why shouldn't she get him? She's looking for a fuck, not true love.

So she comes on to him in some safe house and "No, Raven. Honestly, you're still on about this? No."

And she's had enough about being told no so she slides the metaphorical knife in. She shifts into Charles as he looked in XMFC, soft and clean and perfect, and smirks at him. "Maybe you'd prefer something a little different?" Cus she has eyes. She saw how Erik looked at Charles.

Erik goes rigid at the sight of "him" and snarls at her to take that form off but she's unimpressed. She knows what he wants and why shouldn't he indulge, she asks. Of course Charles knew he wanted him. Erik knows that, right? Little wonder he hates Charles so much after being denied again and again, deemed not good enough for even a quick screw.

Erik grits his teeth. "Let it go, Raven. Fine! I wanted him. Congratulations! But he owes me nothing simply because I wanted him. And why would I fucking hate Charles for being straight?" he snaps at her, turning to leave (cus he can't take her doing this while looking/sounding like Charles) but she/he laughs caustically at that.

"You think Charles is straight?" And Erik is frozen in his tracks, hand on the door knob as she/he continues. "Oh God no. I saw him bring home so many men and women when he was in college. Charming Charles cut a wide swath."

"He's a telepath, Erik. He doesn't care about the 'wrapping', just the contents. If someone's mind, someone's soul was good enough he'd haul them home in an instant. No questions asked."

"Charles" goes on, twisting the blade. "But you? Making eyes at him over that damn chessboard every night? He knew you were on offer and he just wasn't buying. But I guess that's understandable given all your ugly bits? Can't imagine saint Charles would want a killer. The thought probably made his skin crawl."

And here Erik snaps: rage, self-hatred, and heartbreak tangling up and exploding. Grabbing him/her and throwing him/her against the wall, he shoves a thigh between his legs and has his mouth in a punishing kiss.

And it's everything he wanted, and it's nothing he wanted, because this isn't how it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be soft and loving in Charles' quiet home, not this tearing rageful thing, all teeth and nails and bruises.

He takes him hard against the wall and on the shitty bed. And it isn't Charles. No bit of this feels like Charles. His silk-soft thoughts don't brush Erik's mind, he can't feel the unintentional sparks of emotion Charles would always emit when he got too excited about something. There's no laughter. No light. But he'd have never had him anyway. Charles was right to refuse him, despite his lies about him being worth more than violence. Clearly they were lies.

He'd have never wanted his bloodied hands on him. 'There's so much more to you...' but not enough more to me, right, Charles? Not enough.

Afterwards Erik grabs his clothes, cursing her for goading him, exposing him, and tries not to vomit till he's out of her earshot.