#the bull nose ring of course

[benegesseritofficial]

Shout out to the person wandering the oddities fair dressed as a butch minotaur. Like, picture a goth butch going all out with the dapper goth butchness. But also a bull head fully covering their head, and some furry calf warmers. And they were pulling it off??

[pocket-deer-boy]

oh of course he's a bull boy with bangs over his eyes and a nose ring and a cowbell choker and he's beefy and chubby. next you'll tell me his cock is huge and his balls swangin

[anoddlystoatishhyena]

Just Like Glass

CW: slight body horror (disfigurement/amputation)

(This is also quite a long post, so bear that in mind)

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Notes: THIS IS MY FIRST WRITTEN THING EVER I HAVE NO EXPERIENCE WITH WRITING - This is somewhat based of Land Of The Lustrous/Houseki No Kuni because I have been SO hyperfixated on that, and also inspired by this image that I have found on Pinterest:

If you know who originally made this picture please let me know Ok back to the fanfic-

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It'd been a while since Glass Joe would get to fight against another boxer, having been injured pretty badly in his previous fight against Bald Bull. The Turkish boxer had managed to do quite a number on him, so much so that the Frenchman's personal doctor was worried some damage would be more permanent than the usual brain damage or broken ribs. Luckily, Great Tiger offered to help, to speed up the healing process if it meant Glass Joe could get another turn in the ring faster. How kind of him. Now Glass Joe's in high spirits, not just because he's not in pain from his former injuries. The Administrator has just informed him that his next fight is only tomorrow, and it's against Disco Kid of all boxers. The happy-go-lucky boxer from Brooklyn is the only other fighter with a negative win-to-loss ratio, so Glass Joe was hoping he'd be able to snag another win from this next fight. It won't fix the ninety-nine losses, but he figured he had to start small to work his way up.

"I'm telling you, mon vieux, I'll be able to improve my win to loss ratio eventually!" The Frenchman exclaimed, explaining his plan to Von Kaiser as the two walk down the hall. "I may never make it a positive one, of course, but it'll be better than just one!"

Von Kaiser could visibly see the pep in Glass Joe's step, as he stomps next to him in his usual stiff and tense walk. "...I must say, Mein Freund, I admire your dedication. You've been doing this for... how long now?" "Hmm... around twenty years, if I'm not mistaken." "Really now?" Von Kaiser paused, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he attempted to do the maths in his head. "...I've been here around twenty-two years. I will admit, I'm surprised time has flown by so quickly." "It really is a wonder, non?" The Frenchman remarked, as the two finally make it to the WVBA's lobby. "Perhaps we can reminisce over a lovely coffee and croissant from the local café? My treat, mon amour!" This is met with a stern sigh and weary chuckle from the German boxer, Von Kaiser moving one of his hands out from behind his back to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You always find a way to twist my hand into taking you to that café, don't you?" He scoffs, though his tone is more of a joke than an actual show of annoyance. "...Fine. Let's go."

Luckily, the weather is perfect for a small walk to the cafe - The sun is bright, the clouds adorn the sky in many odd shapes, and there isn't a drop of rain in sight. The two older boxers walk out of the lobby to the WVBA, Von Kaiser reaching for the stairs' railing and holding onto it with one hand tightly. "Remember to actually use the handrails, Joe." He speaks up sternly, glancing back at the Frenchman as he begins to descend the concrete stairs. "I don't want you undoing the work Great Tiger has done to heal you." "Oui, oui, I know..." Came the dejected reply, as Glass Joe reaches for the handrail and begins using it to get down the stairs as well. "...It feels like you tell me to use the handrails every time- wuh-woah!" Of course, Joe being clumsy ol' Joe, he somehow manages to lose his footing, missing a step and grabbing onto the handrail to catch himself. The sharp sound of glass breaking cuts through the air, stunning Von Kaiser into silence for a moment. Glass Joe can see Von Kaiser tense up from the sudden noise, the German boxer's grip on the handrail nearly denting the metal pole as Von Kaiser attempts to calm himself down. Once he recovers enough to begin breathing normally again, he sighs with a disgruntled scoff as he glances back at Glass Joe. "D-Did you somehow manage to break your little compact mirror again?" "...Non, it wouldn't have been that loud.. Maybe Aran broke one of the windows back inside." "But the noise came from here." "...You're right, maybe-" Glass Joe begins to talk, but the second he stops looking around for the source of the noise, and looks down at his foot, the one that missed the step, he goes silent. His foot has somehow shattered into pieces, the translucent, glass-like shards reflecting the sunlight as they lay on the stairs. The impact has reduced Glass Joe's right foot to nothing but a jagged stump, the two men staring down in horror at the gemstone-like shards now scattered across the ground. "M-Mon dieu.." "..Oh mein gott."

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride 2

The Meeting

Say hello to my intersex Imp Styx. As I'm sure many of you know the evenly stripe horns are indicative of male Imps and the thin strips white are Female. And also my hellhound Pluto. Also Vagqie is 5'4 and when lucifer met her they were about the same height; but also keep in mind that he was wearing heals (that's canon, like it's in the episode). Finally, I can't believe that he has a nose

When you woke up you were still in the old wedding dress and heals. The veil had fallen from your head, you had slid it back on and flipped the veil back over your face. Whatever brought you here isn't going to get to have you so easily.

You wandered around to the halls of the place you fell into. They were red with gold columns lining every few feet. The walls were lined with apples and the columns were accentuated with what appeared to be snakes coiling around them. "Whoever designed this place needs to be fired."

On the other side of the palace, in the thrown room, Lucifer was panicking. 

"Okay! Everything's going to be fine!"

A little Imp wants in. They were taller than most Imps and had big horns that curled inward towards each other like a heart. Their hair was slip down the middle. White on the left to match the male Imp horn that was slightly bigger than the one on the right; which was female in origin with black hair that was almost tinted dark blue from some angles.

"Styx! Did you get everything set up?" Lucifer asked panic evident on his face.

"Yes sire!" They saluted him. They stood at about 4'11 and wore black leather pants, a short burgundy corset, and a white shirt with long sleeve frilly.

"Good! good."

"Sire. It might be a good idea to take off your ring as to not scare or confuse the young miss."

"Oh! Yeah, I guess." He slid off the ring that had matched Lilith's. The first time he'd taken it off in seven years. "Can I really do this Styx?" 

"Well it is up to you, but if you want you could let her go."

"But then I'd be alone again."

"I suppose so Sire."

Lucifer looked down at his ring again and materialized a black box to slip the circlet if gold into. "I can do this, somehow I know it."

You hadn't gotten very far in your expedition of the strange new place you'd found yourself in. You found a library though which was good. Always good to have a place to hide. Eventually a small fluffy creature resembling a bull dog. She had grey fur and wore a loose black dress that went down to her knees, with a red wine colored bodice. She was only 4 and a half feet tall.

"Good evening my lady." She curtsies and you awkwardly due the same. "Please my lady. Don't feel the need to bow at me. Please follow me to the thrown room."

"Thrown room?"

She sighed. "Yes. Where the king is." She looked back at you and saw you planted firmly in place. "Come on!" she motions for you to follow.

"What's going on? Where am I? Who are you? What was with the spooky fiery rift in space back in the store?"

"Are you serious right now? You sold yourself to the king of hell. Don't play dumb and pretend like you have no idea what's going on. And what's with the wedding dress? Do you actually think the king would choose some lowly human like you?"

"I'm sorry I seem to have misheard you. I thought you said the king of hell."

"I did."

"...hell? ...as in-"

"Lucifer yes." She cut you off.

"There has to be a mistake! I didn't sell my soul to him! I shouldn't be here!"

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't."

'Maybe I can convince him to let me go. He can take Regan or Kaitlyn, I don't care!'

"Head inside." The bulldog ordered.

"May I please have your name."

"Pluto."

"I hope you have a good day Pluto." 

You walked into the room. 

"Darling!" A short man ran up to you and pulled you into his embrace. You struggled as best you could but his grip was firm and unrelenting. "Sorry, to tight?" He lessens his grip and you shirk away.

"Please don't touch me. We don't know each other."

"Oh of course! My apologies. Lucifer Morningstar, your new husband~" 

"What? No... um I think there's been some mistake. I don't belong here."

"Of course you do! You're going to be my bride! That little bug wouldn't have dressed you up like this if you weren't the one intended to be my new wife!"

"But I didn't exactly want that to happen."

"Well you're here now so you might as well make the most of it!" He cheered coming closer to you.

"Wouldn't you rather have someone who wants to be with you? I'm sure there's plenty of goth girls or satanists who would kill to get this opportunity."

"Ugh. You know you humans are really ignorant. Him and I aren't the same. Neither are I and Beelzebub."

"Okay...?"

"That's not important right now." He came even closer and you back into the door. He grabbed the bottom of your veil and you snatched his wrist.

"Doll..." He sounded serious. "Show me your face."

"No thank you."

"Sorry Doll but that wasn't a request." He yanked out of your grip and took your veil off with him. "There! That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You backed up as close to the wall as you could and actually got a look at him. He was about 5'4 and had platinum blond hair. His eyes seemed to glow piss yellow while his pupils were blood red. He wore a white suit with a pink and white stripped vest underneath. His books were black as were his hands though you weren't sure if those were gloves or his actual hand color. 'but he's so pale.'

"Hm? Take a picture it'll last longer~" You rolled your eyes. "You know darling if you're so interested in my hands I can give you a demonstration of what they can do~" Your face heated at his words, and the face that he brought one of his hand up to his mouth in a V shape and licked his lips.

"Why me?"

"Because you put on my ring!"

"But I didn't know what I was doing! Why not choose someone who knows what they're agreeing to?"

"I want you Doll. You're beautiful and my heart is calling out to you. The moment I saw you for the first time in that store i knew I needed you. Come on! We have a Wedding to plan! I'm thinking next month."

"Next Month?!"

"I know it's far off but We'll need to give our guests time to prepare gifts and of course we'll need time to send out the invitations."

"Well I was thinking of more of an August wedding. But eleven months is basically a year and I'm sure it'll still be warm in hell in September so... maybe we should make it a year from now?" Your voice grew meeker as you spoke. "It would also give us a year to get to know each other."

"If I make it a year from now will you be willing to marry me?" He asked excitedly.

"Um maybe?"

"Good enough for me! Come on then! you're probably tired and you'll want to get out of this old thing."

He takes your hand and leads you through the palace.

"Mr. Morningstar?"

"Call me Lucifer! You'll be a Morningstar soon! I suppose I'll have to talk to heaven about turning you immortal. Charlie had begged me for siblings when she was younger, so I'm glad to finally be able to fulfil that."

"Lucifer, I think that we should stay in separate rooms."

"What? But why?" He whined.

"We just met." 'and your the devil.' "And I'm rather traditional." 'No I'm not but you don't need to know that.'

"Alright if that's what you wish Darling."

"And one more thing. Wouldn't it be so romantic if our first kiss was the one we shared on our wedding day?"

"Ooooohh! Like the ones in those romance novels that are so popular on earth!" She squeaked. 

"Yeah... like those."

"Well here we are! It's the best guest room in the place! I'll have Styx put on some new warm sheets on the bed and I'll get you some clothes. You probably want to go take a bath."

"Um I'm good I'll shower in the morning."

"Nonsense Doll. Unless this is a backhanded way to invite me to join you~"

"I'll go take a shower ON MY OWN!" You said running out of the bedroom.

"What am I going to do?

After your shower you cracked the door and looked down to find a pile of clothes and no Lucifer in sight. You changed into them and found the shirt tight on you and the thong given to you a bit too revealing for your taste. "What am I going to do? I can't walk out there and show everyone everything."

"Yeah, I'd prefer this all saved for my eyes only." Lucifer's voice called from behind you.

"Ah! What are you doing in here?"

"Just admiring the view." he slowly gazed up and down at you tracing the curves of your body.

"May I please have something that actually fits me?" You rolled your eyes and your arms came up to cover your chest.

"Fine..." He huffed annoyed. "But I think the size of my old shirt looks cute on you." He snapped his fingers and the shirt grew so long it basically became a night gown. 

"Is this really okay to do to your clothes?"

"It's an old shirt I don't wear anymore."

"This thong better not have belonged to your kid."

"No! no. nonononono! It was uh, my ex-wife's."

"Oh. That's a bit weird isn't it?"

"I'll take you out shopping for clothes tomorrow, but for tonight you can either use those or go commando. I know which option I'd rather see~"

"Goodnight Lucifer!" You pushed him out of the room.

"Goodnight Darling!"

'What am I going to do?' You thought.

[sandbarbirdie]

At What Cost

Description: Rhett Abbott's dreams start to take shape, but at what cost?

word count: 2.5k

c/w: blood, descriptions of injuries.

a/n: a formed thought from conversations with @sebsxphia that manifested into. This is the longest thing I have written in probably over a year so be kind.

Adrenaline pounded through Rhett. A strong pulse rang in his ears, contrasting the sharp sound of the metal gate latching and the booming announcer on the megaphone. Cheers from the stadium rumble through the earth, the high-pressure atmosphere illuminated by the bright lights shining through the dusty haze kicked up by boots.  Eight seconds. 8 seconds to win. 

Rosin sticks to his worn glove as it works into the braided leather. Simultaneously, his other hand readjusts the hat perched on his head. His eyes search over the sea of people in the stands, smiling softly to himself as they land on the familiar shape of your hat and the color of your worn jeans. He can tell adrenaline and concern courses through you, even from a distance. You swallow your worry, manifesting in how your knuckles are white from gripping the metal railing of the bleachers. Pride overpowers your outward worry as you cheer his name, your smile lighting up the stadium. You ease his stagnant anxiety.

He'd had a good circuit, making it to the Semi Finals within the collection of neighboring counties. He placed in the top 3 every ride for the entire circuit. Currently, on his second ride of the night, he sat in first. If he kept the momentum, he'd break into the national circuit at the end of the night. A rough hand on his shoulder breaks him out of his gaze and back to his place on the bull. With a deep breath and a roll of his bad shoulder, he gives a curt nod. The chute opens.

1 second. 2. 

6 more seconds to make his score. You refuse to take your eyes off him in the center of the ring to look at the timer. With each second ticking, the world slows around you. The bull's heels are high, and in a tight twist, Rhett rides. The buzzer sounds with a sharp ring throughout the arena. Instantly you are on your feet, calling out his name with joy. You were ecstatic, his hard work, and your shared sleepless nights leading up to this minute. Yet, within an instant, your breath hitches as his grip falters and he cries out. In a chaotic flurry of motion, dust kicks up. Your world stops. 

The stadium is quiet as the dust settles. Your world is unmoving. Rhett lays on the ground, and the bullfighter is yelling something incoherent to the chute. The commotion is enough to feel fear rise from your feet. Your heart quickens at the telltale stain of dark red on the dry dirt. "Get up. Come on! Get up" Your heart sinks. "Rhett, come on. Get out of there". Desperately, you call out his name, breaking the tense silence as the bull returns to the side of him. "RHETT"  Rhett grunts as he hits the ground. His hat is a few feet from impact. Numbly and gasping for air, he narrowly turns his head into the dirt, missing the hoof land on the ground adjacent to his shoulder. He blinks in a daze as a body collides above him and covers his torso.  Seconds tick by. He gasps for air, the wind knocked out of him. He only registers that he is on the ground when a hand is placed on his chest to stop him from sitting up.

Someone is speaking to him. A blurry figure tugs his vest off. His body limply reacted to the motion, ears ringing. His shaking hand reaches to the bridge of his nose. His eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to subdue the spinning. With his eyes shut, blood speckled across his cheek and forehead, his mind could only focus on you. 

Where were you? 

The bull clears, and before you can stop yourself, you are trying to jump the railing, ignoring the people beside you trying to call out to you. All you could think about was getting to him.

Pushing through pain and shallow breaths, he cranes his neck, wincing at the stadium lights. Disoriented by the brightness, he could not register the faces or what was said to him. His head spun as he tried to piece together anything. Where were you? He thought he had seen you here. Swallowing, he weakly called out. Your name tasted of copper on his lips. A cough shook his diaphragm, his world growing blurry, edges fading. He felt hands on him and weakly tried to push back. A shadow blocked the harsh lights overhead.  It had been the longest 3 minutes of your life. The determination to make it to Rhett removed any ability to make a sound judgment of time. The moment your boots hit the ground from the 4-foot drop off the stands, you started running. Fear twists in your gut with each step closer. The closer you got, the more desperate you became. Your breath hitched as his neck craned in your direction. His eyes failed to focus on you, just a few feet away. You pushed past the stadium EMT, not caring what he had to say at this moment.  Rhett coughed as your knees sank into the dirt by his head. With your hands cupping his face, you watched as his eyes looked up toward you, his vision wavering in and out of focus. Your heart sank as you realized that he could not see you. He flinched at a motion from the paramedics, overcome by blinding pain. Weakness withheld the ability to reach out to you. Rhett, you said softly in a desperate attempt to help him regain focus.  "I am right here. I am here Rhett." His eyes never reached yours, and he struggled to focus beyond the blurry edges of darkness. Unknowingly, his wide greens searched desperately for the familiar comfort of yours. Shallowly drifting out of consciousness, he murmured something that sounded like your name.

"Rhett. Rhett! Stay awake. Please- Come on Cowboy. Keep those pretty eyes open." You knew your pleads were useless as you watched his eyes blink into stillness. That did not stop them from tumbling from your trembling lips anyway.

Tears ran freely down your cheeks as you numbly watched as Rhett transferred to the backboard, a neck brace having been placed on while you kept his head still. You flexed your hands into fists in an attempt to stop their trembling.  After briefly speaking to the EMT, you returned to the parking lot. His hat found its familiar home on the dashboard. Tear-stained and with a tight chest, you climbed into the driver's seat. It numbed you to pull the seat forward instead of seating your long-legged cowboy. With a shaky thumb, you flipped through your contacts and let the tone run on speakerphone.  Caller ID: Royal 

You hadn’t slept. The nurse's tried to convince you to take a break or walk to the coffee machine at the end of the hall. Royal looked at you with an unspoken concern when you refused his extended opportunities to rest. You and Rhett had agreed that you wouldn't call him unless it was important and you were grateful for his presence when speaking with the Surgeon. Yet you let Royal off the hook from your anger, not having the energy. He hadn't been there to watch his son ride and couldn't move past leaning in the door frame watching the rise and fall of Rhett's chest. Eventually he had to return to the ranch. He gave a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes as he turned away. Leaving you and Rhett alone. Yet you never left Rhett's side. Your fingers traced patterns surrounding the IV in his hand. The nights left you with your head buried in your hands next to his bedside, often waking up from short bursts of sleep during the nurse’s night rounds with a blanket placed on your shoulders. You were grateful that the staff allowed the violation of its visitor policy with a turned eye.  Before the second surgery to reset his shoulder, he had been in and out. A few mumbled hi’s with low squinted eyes and “I love you’s” drawn out into sleep. A concussion haze took over and then the fever.  You were cautious carding a hand through his hair, unable to ignore the heat radiating and the sweat clinging to his soft curls. Fingers carefully avoiding the stitches. It was almost cruel how peaceful he looked. The bruises on his jaw had begun to heal. The underlying yellow served as a subtle reminder of the passage of time. Your heart ached, flooded with memories of similar moments in the light of early morning in your shared bedroom, a calloused hand on your hip.  His recovery hadn’t gone as initially planned. Stitches, broken ribs, and, a dislocated shoulder were enough to land him in the hospital, along with the concussion. The surgeries were successful and it was now only up to time. He had pulled through most of it, however, more concerning was the development of a building fever and potential further bleeding. 

A low hum rumbled through his chest. You missed it at first. You felt it the second time rather than heard it. Your hand had traveled to cup his face and brush a curl behind his ear.  Weakly he swallowed and pressed his head back into the pillow. Slowly, with heavy lids, his eyes blinked. His brows furrowed as he blinked again. His vision adjusted to the low amount of late afternoon sunlight streaming in the room through half-open blinds. His whole body felt heavy, he fought against it with a grunt to stay more or less upright. Confusion spun through his mind.  "You are alright", a soft voice said beside him.  He took in the edge of the hospital bed. His eyes wandered to his name written on a whiteboard by the door. He silently studied the patterned hospital gown and the sling on his left arm. Confusion continued, especially as his attempt to sit up was unsuccessful and fatigue coursed through him. His eyes wandered to the hand resting interlaced in his. His breath was shallow as he fought against the heaviness pulling him back.  He slowly turned his head towards you, eyes shut as he tried to fight the wave of exhaustion. His eyes met yours. The familiarity overwhelmed him. He’d spent so much time trying to find your eyes. Now he was searching for himself within them.  "Hi" he mumbled, wincing at the exertion of shifting in bed.  "Hey you", you said softly, smile following.  "Shit. I-" he breathed. "It’s okay. You’re okay, take your time" You spoke softly and let him process on his own. After a few moments of silence, he blinked away tears, his hand squeezed yours weakly. "Darling- I’m sorry. I scared you real bad, didn’t I?" His free hand comes up to cup your face. His thumb gently swipes underneath your eyes.  "What am I going to do with you", you laughed softly, overwhelmed with emotion. You cupped your hand over his and sighed. "but yeah, you scared us all quite a bit there" "I- I thought I heard you scream my name." He said after some time. "I tried calling out for you. I couldn't find you. Tasted too much like blood" His voice cracking. Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes. You hadn't expected him to remember.

"I was right there. Ran as fast as I could to you" He swallowed. Then he leaned back and let his hand drop from your face. His head throbbed, he pinched the bridge of his nose as a wave of dizziness overtook him.  "'m sorry." Rhett stared at the ceiling with watering eyes. Guilt racked through him. "I don't know what I was thinking" "Rhett-" "No. It was too good to be true, semifinals." He scoffed to himself. "I should've known I wasn't making the championships anyway. For what? A check and buckle? Just some bullshit. There was never a real chance of getting us out of here. Not like this anyway. " his tone shortened. "Hey- none of that. You gave them hell Rhett. People dream of riding like you did last week" "Why'd you stay? You- " He paused and looked up at you knowing not to bring up the fact that he knew that you had probably not slept much. It ate him alive, to know you had worried this much about him. That he had placed this burden on you. Previous arguments between the two of you weighed heavy on his chest. Yet sitting here, on the other end of the fear, he didn't know if it was worth it anymore. Aside from you and the animals, it was his everything. His out. His route to leaving this shitty town behind for good. He decided against finishing his thought. Dizzy, in pain and overwhelmed he closed his eyes.

"Seriously, do you think I'd just leave you like this? After everything- You paused as you realized the silent tears running down his cheeks. "Hey Hey. You'll be alright Cowboy. We'll be alright." you said softly as you ran your hands through his hair again. You cursed softly realizing just how warm he had grown. His body started to relax and he mumbled something about being dizzy as fatigue started to return. You pressed the call button and wiped his tears.

"Will- Wiil you stay?" He hiccuped.

"Course. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here when you wake up"

[octuscle]

The bros at my work have always been dicks to me, calling me stupid and whatever, and recently they've been whispering and grinning at each other when I'm around.

I just found a note saying "Grunt, white boy" in my locker, what does it mean?

Aside from the note, you notice the smell in the locker. But is anything different? The astrophotographs are on the door, your shirts are neatly stacked in case you need a fresh one, no, everything else is the same as it always is. "Grunt, white boy. A bit silly to put something like that in the locker of an Indian-born IT administrator. You make a note in your remarkable to install a security system for your locker.

Some joker also changed your favorites list in the browser. What are you interested in protein powder stores? Or porn sites. If they are porn sites. At least they show pretty naked pretty muscular fellows. Fuck, why does your dick jump at that? Okay, these fellows are really hot! You don't realize how long you've been surfing the NSFW pages until a colleague calls you and asks if you'd like a coffee for breakfast. Shit, you've been looking at bodybuilders for over an hour. And on the side, you bought over $200.00 worth of supplements.

Your colleague says at breakfast that the radical buzzcut suits you. A bit unusual, but suits you. Emphasizes your bull neck. You shovel in the liter of low-fat curd cheese with protein powder that was in your compartment in the refrigerator and nod. Tell your pal something about your training and nutrition plan. He looks at you a bit uncomprehendingly and asks if you want to watch the transit of Venus together with your telescope tonight. You laugh and say that you don't stalk bitches. But with the hot Latino stud from across the street, you're in.

Back at your desk, you're a little unfocused. Taking care of your to-do list is really hard for you. You haven't really accomplished anything yet. But you take your lunch break a little earlier than usual. You get your gym bag out of your locker and take the subway to the gym. Lifting iron will bring you back to the right thoughts.

Yes, you've overstayed your one-hour lunch break a bit. Your boss calls you on your cell phone and tells you to get your ass to the company, there are problems at the wastewater treatment plant. Of course. Always at the squats. You don't bother to shower and change. Wastewater treatment plant doesn't sound like it's a white collar job. So get in your pick-up truck, head to the company, get to your locker and get into your janitorial overalls. And then see where the problem is. Fuck, you literally have to go knee-deep into the shit. So once again the rubber fishing pants over your clothes. The long gloves are helpful, you don't need a gas mask anymore. The other colleagues are wimps, but you grew up on a farm in the Midwest, you are used to slurry and pigsties. And with a well-aimed grip in the shit, you've also solved the problem.

Your cell phone rings again, you take off your right glove and answer it. One of the trucks won't start. You are really the handyman around here. To avoid making a big mess, you walk around the outside of the building. Nevertheless, the people you pass hold their noses. Idiots! Yes, you stink of sweat and feces. But someone has to do the dirty work. The nice thing is that everyone still stares at you. It's clear, in your work clothes your big muscles come out even better. The next tie-wearer who stares at you, you grunt like a pig. Come on, it's true! You're not an animal in the zoo here!

Nevertheless, the colleagues in the car shed refuse to repair the truck with you. First you have to wash yourself. If they want to, let them get a hose. That's how you did it on the farm, too. You have no problem with that…

[stopisa]

your shared bedroom is typically very quiet if you ignore the snuffs of breath your boyfriend exhales through his nose sometimes in concentration. tonight is a different matter, a completely different matter, actually. an otherwise peaceful space has been disrupted with four very distinct sounds; flesh slapping against flesh, the ringing of a cow bell, your partner’s grunts and the helpless moans that escape your plush lips.

your face is buried into the pillows, moans barely muffled by the fabric every time ushijima withdraws that abnormally long cock, heavy balls slapping against your sensitive clit when he forces his way back in. you’d think it was his favourite pasttime to mount your smaller body, large calloused hands palming at any inch of your body he can - he particularly likes to grab at your ass, pulling the flesh of your cheeks apart so he can watch the sweet cunt he loves to breed so much struggle to fit every inch of that god forsaken cock of his.

the bell is a constant reminder of ownership, healthily of course. you’d gifted it to him barely two years into your relationship and he’d refused to part with it since. in your household, it’d become a familiar sound to hear it chiming as ushijima moves around. but when he’s clambering over your back, roughly trying to shove as much cock into you, it’s just a futile reminder that you’re not the one owning him.

“—jima!” you wail out, almost drowned out by his vocal grunts by your ear, his hot breath fanning across your skin. he’s either planning to bend your body in half or merge you with the mattress - either way, you’re feeling it in the morning.

he’ll continue until the pillows are damp with your drool and pretty crystalline tears, not a thought in your head other than the numerous loads of thick cum he’s dumped into your womb, filling you up like an unsatiated hunger. he’ll continue even if your legs are shaking and quivering, your body struggling to hold yourself up. he’ll continue even if he has to flip you onto your back, your hands grabbing at his shoulders and long protruding horns for some semblance of something to cling onto while you endure just another mating season with your beloved partner.

you wouldn’t change it for the world.

hybrid tuesday order no.1 !! 🌷

hoLY SHIT thank you so much for blessing me with some bull hybrid!ushi😭😭 i am so grateful u went through the lengths and feeding me like this. fuck but now you have given me such ushi brainrot that you plus others will have to hear me yell about !!

all i kno is this is how i b post-mating szn

[shootybangbang]

The Nature of Hounds [Part 1/?]

[Ao3 link]

[Pairing]: Arthur Morgan/Reader

[Rating]: Mature

Tinkering around with low honor Arthur Morgan. Unedited, feel free to point out errors and give criticism.

------

When you shake the pocket watch, it rattles with the jingle of loose parts. You frown and set it back down on the table. “This is broken. Best I can do is three dollars.”

“Get outta here with that shit.” Arthur taps the metal casing. “This is real gold. You can do at least ten.”

You weigh the watch against your palm.

“Well?”

“Gold plated.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“You know I don’t kid when there’s money on the line.”

“Lowest I’ll go on this is nine.”

“Four.”

He gives you a look.

“You think that yokel over in Emerald Ranch’ll give you a better deal?” you ask.

Seamus would buy this fucking watch for no less than fifteen fucking dollars. He’d give the thing a once over, offer a timid “I can give you five”, then buckle at a glare and go triple. And yet here he is. Following the whim of his cock and his own misplaced affections, like a bull with a lead strung through its nose.

“I’ll tell you what. Mr Kuang downstairs used to be a watchmaker. This thing doesn’t sound that busted, and he owes me a favor anyhow. I’ll do you four fifty.”

He raises his eyes up to high heaven and sighs. “Fine.”

“So adding up the rings, the pendant, the cameo, and the, uh… the teeth… I’ve got you totalling seventeen.” You slide a neatly penciled memorandum across the table. “Check my sums if you don’t believe me.”

“I ain’t botherin’ with that.”

“You’re the only one who doesn’t.” You sweep the little pile of stolen goods into a drawer. “Is it because you’re stupid or you’re sweet, I wonder?”

“Prob’ly the first.” He dips his head down to steal a kiss, but you press a stern palm against his shoulder and hold him at arm’s length.

“Not when I’m behind the counter.”

“Take care of this shit later.”

“Down.”

“C’mon—”

“I said down.”

So he steps back with his heart sunk one notch lower. Posts himself near the front door, arms crossed, hat brim tipped low, cleaning the dirt beneath his fingernails with a pocket knife as the rectangle of light spilled from the window begins to tick across the floorboards in a dimming dial. He presides over the thin trickle of customers and peddlers alike with a baleful eye, and it’s not until the bell tower in the square tolls five and you swing open the side gate in a flurry of swirling skirts that he can pull you in by the waist and sink into the frantic kiss that you press him with.

Locked door, shuttered windows. Hurriedly, you flip the sign posted against the glass from OPEN to CLOSED as he flattens your back against the wall and pulls the ribbon at your throat loose with a yank of his teeth. You sift your fingers through his hair, then grip hard, yanking his head back. “Three weeks without a letter, you bastard,” you snarl. “Thought they’d hanged you someplace out west."

“Aw, don’t tell me you was worried.”

“‘Course I was worried. You’re my best earner.”

The smile you flash along the slight is sweet and quick as a fleeting slip of riverlight, and he forces himself to smile back, but the truth remains that he has never come here empty handed. Still fearful of the risk that you might cut him with the same expectant look Dutch has at the end of deals gone wrong and scores lost.

Your eyes shut slow as you kiss him again. He runs his palm up your back as he finds and unclips the clasp of your blouse and the tension in your hand loosens like weakening resolve. It surprises him still, that gentling spread that flows arterial at the simple touch of his hand.

The room tucked behind the storefront is cramped and cluttered with belongings that you have only recently begun letting him examine. When you lead him in, it’s with your hands clutching his neckerchief like reins, tripping over the hazard of table corners and your lone, bystanding chair. You walk backwards into your unmade bed, and he lets you pull him atop you with an obedience he scarcely understands. You fumble to pull down his belt and he yanks down your skirt in a confusion of hands as you work to lay each other bare. “Did you miss me,” you murmur, and he answers not with words but with a violent jerk of his hips, relaying with friction what he does not know how to otherwise.

Arthur cups his hand to your cunt, trails his middle finger along the wet seam like tracing the crest of a wave. In red fantasy, he takes the time to prime you for him, spreads and sucks the soft furl of flesh with his mouth, but you have never had the patience for foreplay. It's as if the unselfish act of pleasuring you were a step too intimate; even in this, a necessary expectation of quid pro quo that you have not the inclination to entertain.

“Come on then, gunslinger,” you growl. Another kiss, fierce and carrying the admonishment of teeth. You jerk the fabric of his shirt up to reveal his chest, then stiffen and splay your hand over the filthy bandage wrapped there. “Christ.”

“It’s nothin’.”

The cloth is stained with old blood that has seeped from the locus of his wound like a rust colored bloom, and is grimy from sweat and travel. You stare at it with revulsion. “Morgan, this is disgusting.”

The prickle of shame that stretches up his spine has transitioned to sullen indignation by the time it reaches his head. “Didn’t figure someone in your line of work to be so goddamned squeamish.” He tries to pull his shirt back down. You grab his wrist.

“Keep this off,” you say. “I’m running you a bath.”

[rosemaidenvixen]

Between Daylight and Darkness

Chapter 7

<Previous Next>

Ao3

Jim shifted uncomfortably under the uv light; part from the slimy, crawling sensation the light gave and part from the extended period of strained silence. He really wasn’t sure how he’d expected these rock guys–

Trolls. They’re trolls, he’s a troll, you’re a troll–

To react when he showed that he was really a human. Shock was understandable but the dead silence and bug-eyed stares were starting to worry hi–

Abruptly the older looking troll leaned down to hiss something in Blinky’s ear, Jim had just enough time to see Blinky’s eyes widen before he broke away and bolted out of the cave. Before he could even start to process that a large, gray hand filled his vision. The big mossy guy slowly reaching out towards him.

“Human…”

The second the purple light touched big guy’s hand there was a soft sizzling sound, big guy jerking his arm away with a wince. Wait was that smoke coming up from–

A loud snort pulled his attention back to the big blue spiky guy, who’s expression had gradually shifted from shock to seething rage, standing there panting through gritted teeth while he straight up stared daggers at Jim. All that combined with the nose ring reminded him of an angry bull–

It suddenly hit him just how much bigger these troll guys were than him, and how much more breakable his spine was in this shape.

“Hey Tobes I think you can kill the light now,”

“Whoops, sorry, got it,”

The uv light and the slimy sensation vanished, Jim shifting back to his blue shape, letting out a small sigh of relief.

His relief was short lived as the older looking troll pushed past the angry spiky one and stalked towards Jim.

“So you claim to be human?”

“Uhhh…..yeah?”

The old troll tapped the tip of one of Jim’s horns, making Jim flinch.

“You don’t appear human at the moment,”

“I can kinda change back and forth,”

“Change?” the old looking troll whipped down until his face was inches from Jim’s, his milky gaze narrow, Jim shrinking under the scrutiny “How?”

“Well that’s a bit of a complicated st–”

“How now changeling!”

From out of nowhere something flew in and smacked Jim on the face, sending him staggering back, clapping a hand to his cheek.

Whatever it was that had hit him fell to the floor with a clang. Jim slowly peeled his hand away, the blow had been far more shocking than painful, looking up to stare at Blinky, who was staring right back with all six of his eyes blinking.

“Umm ow!?”

Blinky swept forward, grabbing the object off the floor and pressing it, startlingly cool, up against Jim’s face.

The beginnings of a low growl rumbled out of the back of Jim’s throat before he caught himself, stepping back and shoving Blinky away from him. With the distance he could finally see the object in Blinky’s hands.

It was a horseshoe.

Blinky looked at Jim then down at the horseshoe “Well that was…unexpected,”

“Actually I think that was a very expected response to having a horseshoe thrown in your face,” Mary said snipily.

Blinky– well, blinked at her “Horseshoe?”

“Never mind that,” the older troll gave an impatient wave “Blinkous, the rest of them,”

“Ah, yes, of course,,”

Without warning Blinky surged forward and pressed the horseshoe against Mary’s cheek.

“Hey!” she slapped him away “What the hell!?”

Blinky ignored her and moved towards Claire with the horseshoe. Claire frowned and tried to step back only to be blocked by the big mossy guy standing behind her. Allowing Blinky to touch the horseshoe to her face as well.

Toby and Darci didn’t try to run, allowing Blinky to tap them with the horseshoe with matching grimaces and a muttered ‘personal space much’ from Toby.

“Ok seriously,” Jim stomped towards Blinky “What is with the horseshoe!?”

“Well you see–”

Blinky was cut off by the old troll deftly plucking the horseshoe from his hands and tucking it into his waistband.

“No matter, we might not be certain of what you are but now we are certain of what you are not,”

“Ok enough with the cryptic answers,” Claire approached them, hands on her hips “What’s going on he–”

“He can’t be the Trollhunter!”

Everyone, human and troll, whipped around towards the big spiky guy, who somehow looked even more pissed off.

“He’s not a real troll!” he slammed a fist into the side of the cave wall, making the whole cavern shudder, tools on the table rattling.

The older troll rushed to his side, grabbed him by the horn, and yanked his head down “Lower your voice!” he hissed “Do you want to alert all of Trollmarket of this…irregularity,”

“Trollmarket deserves to know that the amulet is in the hands of–”

“While I admit the amulet’s choice is…unprecedented,”

Old troll and spiky troll shared a look at Jim that made him more than a little uncomfortable.

“But while I’m not sure of what exactly he is, we know he isn’t–”

The next word was something coarse and guttural, not in english, something completely unlike any other language Jim had heard.

“And I will not risk inciting mass panic by having the entire market speculate otherwise. So as far as the rest of Trollmarket is concerned, our new Trollhunter is an ordinary stripling, albeit one that keeps…peculiar company,”

Jim frowned “Hey, leave my friends out of this,”

Old and spiky completely ignored him, spiky too busy gawking at old’s words “You expect me to conceal the truth like some kind of–”

“Conspiracy!”

They all whirled at Blinky’s shout, two of his hands clasped to his cheeks in horror, a third hand pointed accusingly at the old troll.

“Can it be so!? Am I witnessing the birth of a dreaded conspiracy orchestrated by our market’s elder himself right before my six eyes!?”

“See!?” spiky threw a hand towards Blinky “The scholar agrees with me, Trollmarket must know!”

The old troll pinched the skin– stone between his eyes. Jim was still figuring out how to clock trolls’ facial expressions, but he didn’t need to be an expert empath to tell that this guy was completely done.

Abruptly the old troll looked sharply back up at Jim “You, Trollhunter, is there a sanctuary you can rest at on the surface?”

“Ummm…yeah?”

“Good, go there with your companions, AAARRRGGHH will escort you to the surface. Return to the bridge tomorrow at dusk, we will discuss more then. In the meantime I will smooth things over here,”

Spiky scoffed “You can’t truly expect us to–”

“One conspiracy breeds more, today the Trollhunter’s a human, tomorrow gnomes will rule the market!”

The big guy– AAARRRGGHH presumably, gently nudged Jim’s shoulder, urging him towards the exit. Stretching his considerably long arms out to herd them all towards the exit of the cave. Confused but eager to get away from the yelling, which was steadily increasing in volume, Jim complied, and after glancing and making sure AAARRRGGHH wasn’t being too rough with the others, allowed the large troll to herd them out the door. 

AAARRRGGHH took a different direction than Jim had coming here; old, spiky, and Blinky’s shouts fading behind them as he led them through a narrow stone corridor– well narrow for his size, you could probably drive a truck through this hall. Eventually leading them back to the crystal staircase towards where they’d come in.

“So uh…” Toby craned his head back, trying to get a glimpse at the top of the stairs “You guys don’t happen to have some magical version of an elevator? Or maybe even an escalator?”

“El…ooh…vay…tor?”

Toby huffed a deep sigh “Of course you don’t,”

Despite literally everything Jim could help but crack a smile “Relax Tobes, I can give you a lift,”

“Not on your life,” Toby clamored up to the first step “Do you know how many points this is worth on my chubby tracker? I’m doing this,”

“Hey if you’re offering free rides I’ll take you up on it,”

Jim started and glanced down, spotting Mary standing right next to him staring up at him completely unashamed.

“What? It’s a miracle I didn’t break a nail during our run from tall dark and ugly, no way am I risking my manicure over stairs,”

“No problem,” Jim crouched down, allowing Mary to climb on his back “But say one word about a hair care routine and I’m dropping you,”

They began their ascent, Jim taking an easy lead even while carrying Mary. The others were a lot slower, having to use all four limbs to scale stairs that were clearly made for much larger creatures, even Jim had to do a little hop between steps. AAARRRGGHH could have probably easily outpaced them all, but he hung back, bringing up the rear with no doubt deliberate slowness.

Soon enough they reached the top, Jim letting Mary down while Darci eyeed the entrance uneasily “So the guy who tried to kill us earlier is gone now right?”

AAARRRGGHH nodded “Bular gone,” he reached out holding a pointed, glowing orange crystal, drawing a glowing arch in the wall with its tip. Once it was complete the wall beneath the arch crumbled away, revealing the empty canal on the other side.

Jim and the others cautiously stepped through, the second they were through the wall started rebuilding itself. AAARRRGGHH waving at them from the rapidly rematerializing wall “Bye, see tomorrow,”

Then the wall was sealed and he was gone, leaving the five of them standing in the canal. No trolls, no Trollmarket, no glowing crystals, no nothing. Bare concrete lit with sickly yellow streetlights. A car rumbled on the bridge overhead.

For a few seconds they stood there in silence, glancing around at each other with uncertain looks. Mary opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out a loud series of chimes and beeps filled the formerly silent canal. All five of their phones going off simultaneously. They all scrambled to pull them out while Jim held still. His phone was sealed up in his armor, honestly he was still trying to figure out the physics of where his clothes went when the armor appeared, but he saw Toby pull out his phone, and saw who all the notifications were from.

Jim winced, oh this was not going to be good.

“Here let me,” he held out a hand “It’ll probably be better if I’m the one who talks to her,”

Toby plunked the phone down in his armored hand with no hesitation “Better you than me dude,”

In the time it had taken Toby to hand off his phone it had chimed five more times. Too many texts and voicemails to check, better just call right away and rip the band aid off. Swallowing hard, Jim pressed the dial button, lifting the phone to his ear as it rang, the other side picking up in just two rings.

“Hey mom,” he spoke up before she could get a word out “Some stuff happened but we’re all fine. We’re underneath the bridge on Main, can you come pick us up? I can explain more face to face but we uh….we learned a lot…”

[mrs-murder-daddy]

I was wondering if I could request some Ronald Speirs x Gender neutral reader fluff? Thanks :)

A/N: Of course! After all I am his Mrs so I should hope I can write for him haha - I hope you enjoy!

Also please let me know if I've missed something in making this gender neutral!

Whatever You Want to Do Is Alright with Me

Ronald Speirs x Reader

Ron Speirs had never given you the impression that he was sentimental or romantic. That’s not to say he didn’t love you, or that he didn’t prove how much he cares for you every day. You just never pictured him being engaged or married to someone, let alone that person being you.

But spending the better part of two months in a freezing forest with no idea whether the other was safe changed something. After Ron congratulated Lipton on his battle commission, he found you half asleep tucked under Bull Randleman’s arm. 

Ron suspected some of the men know of your relationship, perhaps not how serious, but enough to understand that you care for each other. Bull gave you a gentle shake when Ron approached and you rubbed a bleary eye.

You pat Bull on the shoulder before following Ron to a room at the back of the church. It wasn’t much but it gave you both some semblance of privacy. You essentially fell into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and dropping your head to rest on him.

One of his arms settled around your middle while the other hand rubbed up and down your back. All was quiet for a while.

Then, in typical blunt fashion, Ron asked, “How do you feel about marriage?”

You leaned back to scrutinise his face, “I wouldn’t mind getting married one day, why?”

He simply hummed and the corners of his mouth dipped down in a rather comical expression.

“What’s ‘hmm’ mean?” You mimicked the little movement. He shook his head and kissed your temple.

And that was that.

As Easy Company moved through Germany and later Austria, your Captain looted more than anyone else, you were certain. His favourite thing to steal was jewellery, mostly rings, because they were small enough to send lots of it home. And he could get you exactly the ring you wanted. 

“Too small.” Well his mom could wear it.

“Too big.” Surely a cousin would love it.

“I like this stone but I’m not sure about the size of it.” Perfect, that just narrows it down.

It was one beautiful day in Zell am See, you were sunbathing on the pier while some of your boys splashed around in the water. Your name was called by a private, some replacement you should know the name of.

He told you to meet your man at the house he was billeted in. When you got there, Ron led you inside to ‘his’ room where a stunning formal outfit was laid out for you, next to a suit for him. You figured this was going to be the night he formally proposed.

By the time you both got dressed and went downstairs, the house was suspiciously empty.

“How did you manage to get everyone out of here?”

“I have my methods.” He smiled and showed you to the dining room where a small dinner was prepared along with your favourite (accessible) drink. He pushed your chair in when you sat, lit the candles on the table, then crashed into his seat across from you.

You ate in comfortable quiet, speaking only when you wanted to. The meal was delicious and you made a mental note to find out who cooked it later. Once you were finished and everything was squared away, Ron took your left hand in his.

You sighed through your nose, “You’re sure about this right?”

“I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life, sweetheart.”

You smiled brightly, nose tingling and lips beginning to quiver.

Ron pulled a chain out from under his shirt, a stunning ring hanging from it. A ring more beautiful than even your dreams could come up with.

You looked at him for permission, which you got, before taking the ring in hand. Tears began to fall in earnest, your grin growing ever wider.

“I love you Ronald Speirs.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

[deadmanscity-writing]

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Request: N/A (Wasn’t requested)

Scenario/Background: Reader accidentally timetravels/replaces her doppelganger (Because I’m in love with that trope). Also, this is placed in Episode one of the third season: when Robin first appears.

Reader can be anywhere from 16-18 years old.

I’m also going to try to write /most/ of the episode this time, and not die from pausing, unpausing.. “Wait.. what did they say?”

In this fanfic, Stranger Things is still a show.

Doesn’t follow the exact story, since it is in Reader’s point of view, so it may throw you off just a little bit.

H/T(C) = Home Town(or city)

!!WARNING!!

Actions of assault in the beginning, and mentions of it later on…

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11:54.34pm:

H/T(C), [state/province], [country].

June 28, 2024 (1/6/2024):

Walking outside, with a silent hum, from a celebration of my friend’s seventeenth birthday. As I pick at the long sleeve I decided to wear on this warm night, I hear scuffing of shoes against the pavement behind me not even a minute after leaving the building.

Feeling oversuspicious at the probability of being followed, I hasten my steps.

Why’d the parking garage have to be so damn far away..!

Turning the nearby corner, I feel the person grab my hair from behind me. They swiftly throw my head against the bricked wall I stood next to. Nothing turning from it, minus a likely concussion and a future headache, I turn around to face the person, almost as instinct. Before I even get a glimpse of anything above the belt- “such a pretty thing…”- He smashes my stomach with their boot, and my face with his knee.

With a grunt, all that I can sense is ringing in my ear. I slip into the abyss as my body turns limp.

—Timeskip: eleven hours, thirty-six minutes, five seconds: 11:30.39am—

June [2?], [!??4]

Location [UNKNOWN]

Shit… I squint open my eyes. Where am I..? I sit up, looking around. I’m behind what is likely… a mall. Did he just dump me? Damn. Standing up, I run the back of my hand and arm under my nose. Dried blood either falling off, or attaching itself to my sleeve. Fuck… “This is honest bull.”

Remembering my bag, I turn my head, rapidly looking for it. I spot it in the general area I once laid.

I drop to a kneel. Opening it, I try to look for the small amount of aid supplies I usually carry inside. “How I hate the extra luggage, but I’m so glad I brought you.” I whisper to the inanimate object.

Finding the alcohol wipes, I bring out my phone, turning on the camera to aid me in cleaning myself.

“You!-” I groan, spotting the bruising on my right eye, “motherfucker…” At least it’s not swollen.. I end up roughly cleaning the bloch of dried blood under my nose, and the rest of my face. And throwing my phone into my bag.

Honestly.. These aren’t as bad of injuries for getting beaten. Well. More so, nothing is broken…

Remembering the sunglasses in my bag that I keep forgetting to take out, I rummage for them, eagerly I put them on to hide the blackeye.

Huffing, I get back up, swinging my bag over my shoulder. Walking to the front of the building, I instantly decide it best to go inside.

Not knowing where to go, I head down the escalators, spotting… a certain ice cream parlor. Looks like I gotta keep a little secret.

June 28, 1984

StarCourt Mall. Hawkins, Indiana

I wandered to other stores, buying new clothes, accessories and stopping to eat a couple times. I will tell ya’, inflation is a bitch. So glad I took cash with me. These damn prices are heaven!

Already with changed clothes, putting my old, teared, and bloodied clothes in a completely separate bag from the already few I hold. I decide it best to either wander or sit, waiting.

All until it reached 21:27pm (9:27pm). That’s when I saw the party. The main five. All of them walking inside. When they reach the bottom of the escalator, Lucas gives Erica a short lecture when he spots her with friends. Of course, I can’t hear them with the current distance. But I know what they’re saying.

Soon, I detach myself from the wall I was leaning on, following them to the ice-cream parlor.

Instead of following all the way to the counter where Mike, may I add, obnoxiously rings the bell, I stop and go to a table. Setting all my bags down, soon setting myself down too.

“Hey, dingus! Your children are here!”

“Again?” Steve slides open a window connecting to the back room. “Seriously?”

Mike just looks at him before ringing the counter bell one more time.

Steve leads them to the hallways connecting all the departments shortly after.

I set my head on the back of the seating close to the wall.

After just sitting for a couple more minutes, I decide that I want to talk to at least one of them: Robin, or Steve? I ponder. I don’t feel like thinking about the interference with the plot right now. I just want to talk.

I get up, but as soon as I do, the power goes out. I forgot that this happens.

“That’s weird…” I hear Steve. I then hear him flickering the light switch behind him. Over, and over again.

“That isn’t going to work, dingus.” I then hear Robin’s voice.

“Oh, really?” He says in response, flickering the switch faster, while looking up, facing the lights to see any reaction from them.

“It really isn’t.” I speak up.

The power then came back on, almost as soon as it went out.

“Let there be light.” Steve says smugly to Robin, who silently mocks him. He then turns to me, keeping the same smug look.

I look at him with a straight face, in return, before a wave of paranoia hits me. All I do is shiver, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

I raise an eyebrow back, “What?”

“Nothing.” He says nothing more for a few seconds, “So-”

I check the time on my watch. “Shit..” I mumble to myself. It’s nine fifty-eight.

I turn around. I was wanting to try and figure out a place to stay before ten, but it’s almost that time… damn it all. I guess… I can risk it. I don’t want to stay with Steve, but he’s also my best bet right now. I just… need to make it.. extremely clear. Or, I can ask for a ride to a Hotel. Just- something!

I turn back around to face him. “Hey! Um,” I quiet myself immediately after realizing my raised volume. “I’m, like, extremely new here, in town. I got dropped off here from the bus, and this is also my first day here, so… I was wondering if, um, you could drive me to a nearby hotel..? If you have a car. You don’t have to though!” There are… SO MANY HOLES IN THAT! What the fuck! Now I’m praying he’s stupid as some of the show betrays him to be!

“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t mind!” Not even a second later. No hesitation. He is… that stupid. Okay.

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

He grins. Wow… maybe, don’t inflate his ego too much next time…

—Timeskip: Twelve hours, fifteen minutes, zero seconds: 11:14am—

The next morning at the mall

I figured it best to not wear my sunglasses today.

“Alrighty. One scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty five. Here ya’ go.” I see Steve smile at the girl from where I sit. He looks at her shirt, “Purdue. Fancy,” I cringe.

“Yeah. I’m excited!” She response, giggling.

Steve types something in the register, “Yeah, you know I considered it. Purdue. But then I was like, “You know what? I- I really think I need some real life experience.” You know, before I hit college. See what it feels like. I don’t know.” He grabs her change from the register, “See what it’s like to earn a working man's wage. You know wh- uh.” The register rings. It’s broken. And… He’s freaking out. “Hold on. Sorry.” He then continues his story. “I think that’s, like, really important.” The two girls just look at him. Smiling at his failed attempt at flirting with the one in front.

“Yeah. Totally.” Gotta love sarcasm, but damn.

“Yeah! Anyways, this is like, so fun.” He forces a short laugh with her. “We should, kinda like, you know, I don’t know, hang out?” He hands her her change. Either her failing to catch it, or him having poor hand to eye coordination; it wounds up falling. “Oh- sorry about that. Uh- I don’t know.” He puts his hand on the counter, trying to appear more confident, hoping for the outcome he obviously wishes for. “Maybe next weekend, or,” He waits.

“Yeah, I’m busy.” She reaches to put the change in her purse.

“Oh- that’s cool. I’m actually- I’m working here next weekend.” He gestures. “So… the following weekend is better for me,” He says defeated, but hope still underlines his tone.

“Ah- no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Okay.” She says. What’s with the bitchy tone?.. I eye her, rolling my eyes. “Thanks.”

Steve tries to speak up as they walk away, “I could- this is my first day here.” I then eye him with a raised brow.

He huffs in defeat.

Robin rolls to the opening of the window. Almost as if on cue. I smile at what she’s about to say. “And another one bites the dust.” She slides her white board in view. Steve turns around to face her, scuffing at the sound of her voice. “You are O-for-six, popeye.” She places a tally mark under the words ‘You suck’.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can count.” Steve says agitatedly, while nodding, arms crossed.

“You know that means you suck, right?” She says in a teasing tone.

“Yep. I can read too.” I can tell Steve is tired from all Robin’s teasing with his rough tone he carries towards her.

“Since when?” She teases him even further. Almost as if she’s trying to knock him over the edge.

“Hey?” I get up from where I sat, walking up behind Steve. “Do you think you can put another one on there? Make it O-for-seven?” I ask, in a mocking tone.

“Oh, dingus got dusted not six- but seven times?” She looks to him, playfully shocked, before looking towards me, “Now, dingus’ friend, who was this unlucky lady?” She asks with the same tone.

“Me. When I was hitching a ride with him last night.”

“Wow… dingus, you don't know when to quit, do you?” I breathe out a short laugh.

“Sorry, Steve,” I pat him on the shoulder before leaning on the counter. “Your oh-so-sweet co-worker has to know.” My tone, similar to Robin’s.

“It’s this stupid hat!” I sigh, shaking my head. “I am telling you!” Robin sighs at his complaint too. “It is totally blowing my best feature!..” It really isn’t the hat.

“Yeah,” Robin moves the board, locking her hands, placing her arms to lay on the wall under the opening of the window. “Company policy is a real drag,” she shakes her head. “Y’know, it’s a crazy idea,” She looks up at him from her position, “but, have you considered..” She shrugs, blowing up her cheeks before continuing, “Telling the truth..?” She basically eyes him.

“Oh, you mean that I couldn’t even get into tech, and my douchebag dad is trying to teach me a lesson? I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?” He speaks with dual honesty.

I move as I hear the clacking of heals, back to my seat.

Robin grins before pointing out to Steve, “Hey, twelve o’clock.”

Steve follows, “Oh shit, oh shit. Okay. Uhhh… Goin’ in. Okay, I’m goin’ in-” just before he turns around,”-and you know what?” He reaches to take off his uniform hat, throwing it behind Robin, “Screw company policy.”

“Oh my god, you’re a whole new man.”

Steve begins to walk away backwards, “Right? Oo,” he does a small dance. He turns around as me and Robin laugh at his actions. “Ahoy ladies! Didn’t see you there!” He practically screams, causing me and the girl he is speaking to to jump. He places both of his hands on the counter top. “Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me?” He says with great enthusiasm. “I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Harrington.” He loses a little volume near the end.

The girls laugh, “Oh god,” I hear one mumble.

“Can I get you guys a little taste of cherry suebly?” He butchers the last word, sorbet. “No? Anybody? Banana boat?” He takes a look at all of them. “Four people, four spoons?”

Robin slowly slides away, cringing as she does so. I get up as she does so, walking behind the girls, and proceeding to the back room, Steve doesn’t seem to care.

Steve continues, “Anybody? It’s hot out there.”

Once I get through the door, I see Robin has put another tally, “O-for-eight..? He really is desperate.” I walk over to close the window. Sitting down at the table in the middle of the room after.

“Yeah. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask; what’s up with your eye?” She points to her own.

“Oh, I-” I touch the fading bruise “It’s nothing. Just some weirdo kneed me in the face.” Robin, thankfully, doesn't pry. “But- uh- anyway-” I take a deep breath, “I get the whole “girl crazy” thing, but he doesn’t seem like the type.” I rest my head on my palm, facing Robin. “I feel like everyone gets the same feeling after breaking things off with either their first relationship, or first love.”

“Really? Who's the boy that broke your heart?” She raises her brow with a sarcastic smirk. She then sits in the chair next to me, “Would love to hear about it.” She keeps her taunting tone.

“You wouldn’t know him,” I say in a similar tone to hers. “But, the feeling is like, you get so used to being in a relationship that you feel out of place when you’re not in one. Some people try to give it some time before actually doing that, to avoid a rebound. But after some time, they’re either content but still want a relationship, or just… content with being single ....”

Robin boredly hums to my rant in response.

“I hope you know I avoided going on a long ass rant, just for you.” I grin playfully.

She looks back at me, “Ah, yes, thank you for saving my ears.” I smile in place of a laugh at her reply.

“I rant a shit ton. Not even when I’m nervous, usually when I’m happy, or ‘forcing’ someone to listen to me. But I hate that I sometimes stutter, or accidentally skip a word, or even make up one in some scenarios.” I shrug.

She shakes her head with a slight smile.

[morningstar-chronicles]

do you have any agreste family headcanons for your dr?

definitely! but what kind largely depends on the DR, i think. i only have one miraculous DR listed on my pinned, but i have several kicking around in my head. so i'll just give you all of my headcanons! keep in mind i stopped watching the actual show a long time ago lmao

case #1: adrien and julian

despite adrien actually being older, julian acts older. adrien is still very much in the mindset of "i want to make my father proud!" and julian is kind of trying to act as a better role model for adrien to aspire to.

julian frequently dyes his hair loud colours and pierced his septum against parental consent (this is actually how he got the bull miraculous, which is a nose ring. master fu is the one who pierced julian's nose).

adrien wants to be a good role model for julian, and julian does want to look up to him to some extent, but their dynamic is very complicated considering how differently they feel about their father.

julian has wayyy more freedom than adrien (mostly because last time gabriel said no to something, julian pierced his septum. adrien would never).

julian models casual lineups for gabriel, and adrien models business and formal stuff. julian would have a lot more fun modelling for marinette though, since his style just doesn't match gabriel at all, and would probably completely turn on gabriel fashion as a company for one chocolate chip cookie. he absolutely fucks with marinette's ideas though- especially anything inspired by jagged stone.

despite looking like he would listen to emo or punk rock music -which he definitely does- he also hardcore vibes to taylor swift and other pop songs. once he stops doing things exclusively to piss off gabriel (i.e. once gabriel is dead) he gets into indie music and everything about him completely softens. he's a huge puppy dog.

julian gets perms. he also wears glasses (his father prefers him in contacts and makes him wear them for photoshoots).

adrien and julian are often forced to go to galas. their father doesn't attend with them. julian only goes if he can bring a friend, otherwise nathalie will have to drag a ragdoll julian into the car, and then julian lays on the floor of wherever the gala is until nathalie drags his ragdoll ass back home again. it's just a really bad look for the agrestes, honestly.

julian doesn't like felix. felix loves him like a brother. sometimes felix pretends to be adrien just so julian will tolerate him for a day. truthfully, julian doesn't like felix because he sees a lot of the things he doesn't like about himself in felix. he doesn't want to end up like that.

case #2: emilie's fertility treatments

this DR/AU stems from the popular headcanon that adrien is a sentimonster (did they make this canon??) because emilie had trouble conceiving- except instead of using dark magic, emilie just went to a fertility clinic like a normal person.

this resulted in five kids- the triplets (adrien, chase, and beau), and the twins (julian and emmy).

emilie was super excited to have all these kids, but died pretty promptly after the twins were born, so now they're all gabriel's problem.

adrien is the sweet summer child we all know him to be, and julian is of course julian.

emmy is julian's twin sister, and the only agreste girl. she's sporty and she's fun, and she's always nice to everyone. she and abby would be good friends!

chase is like adrien if adrien was kind of a dick. like, chase isn't actually rude or mean or anything, but he has sort of that energy to him where he probably would have been a bully in middle school and then grown out of it later in life. that is, if he ever went to school.

chase is a full-time model, and honestly has no interest in doing anything different. he's a nepo baby at it's finest. the only reason he would ever go to school is to make friends his age, but the condition of that would be keeping his grades up. besides, chase and chloe actually are good friends.

beau on the other hand is super interested in learning, but has no interest in making friends. he's extremely introverted and prefers to work on his own. he also doesn't go to public school.

adrien and chase are both models. beau is not. when he was little, gabriel tried to get them in triplet photoshoots and beau bit him. chase thought it was funny and considered also biting gabriel, but he actually likes all the attention he gets from modelling so he didn't.

adrien likes to braid emmy's hair. he learned to do a bunch of intricate styles so she could feel pretty even while they're not modelling.

emmy and chase model sports clothing, adrien and emmy model formal, business, and casual clothing, and again, julian models the most casual lineups.

gabriel cannot force all five kids to go, especially with no handler adult present. adrien, emmy, and chase go. sometimes julian goes just because he wants to bring me with him to impress me lmao 😭.

bonus: general headcanons, applicable to any miraculous DR

gabriel is a natural brunet. his hair is just white because he's old.

nathalie is working with gabriel because she's in love with emilie, not actually gabriel himself.

adrien views nathalie as his stepmom because he thinks she's in love with gabriel (gabriel also thinks this, but they're both wrong).

gabriel handed the butterfly miraculous down to lila because he views her as an apprentice. not quite like a daughter, because he does actively akumatize her and let her be in danger frequently, but he views adrien as a mirror of emilie and lila as a mirror of himself, and wants to be able to live vicariously through them. it's really weird and messed up.

hot take- i feel like emilie also wouldn't have been all that great of a parent. adrien is super attached to her obviously, but she would have been super fake and treated her kids more like accessories or therapists than kids. so, marginally better than gabe, but... still a pretty fucked up dynamic.

adrien has dimples, which he inherited from emilie. felix also has dimples, which he inherited from amelie. the only differences between them physically are that felix is slightly paler and adrien's hair has a slight wave to it that felix's doesn't have naturally. felix is also ever so slightly taller- only about a half-inch. only marinette and kagami can spot these differences.

this is either way more than you were expecting or not what you were looking for, but i had fun writing it!

[abyssmarked]

* speak of the devil . this is a sideblog to @infernalbarbarian for another “tav” original character from baldur’s gate 3. nepharia is half tiefling / half succubus, multi - classed as a warlock rouge. this blog will contain a lot of triggering and mature content ( mentions of sexual violence & trauma, heavy violence & gore ), please be at least 21 before interacting. beneath the cut is a more detailed explanation of who nepharia is and her background. anyone can interact! always welcoming to canon and ocs alike. <3

* dossier . name. nepharia graylock. nicknames. she likes to be called neph, and would prefer her friends to call her that ( if she had friends ). race. half tiefling / half succubus. class & specialization. warlock ( the fiend ) / rouge. age. 40. gender & pronouns. cis female / she, her. orientation. pansexual. height in tiefling form. 5’6”. height in true, succubus form. 5’10”. hair. straight, light gray & silver, just below her shoulders. eyes. light gray - blue, almost white. complexion. her skin is almost colorless, a pale, gray color. she has a few patches of light freckles speckled upon her nose, shoulders, back, and hips. distinguishing features. she is marked in abyssal language upon the left side of her face, given to her by her patron as a symbol of ownership over her. true succubus form. in her true form, she stands a bit taller at 5’10”, and her claws grow longer and sharper. the whites of her eyes turn black, and the pupils become a bright, glowing white. her teeth come to a sharper point, and of course, she sprouts pale, fleshy wings with a span of four feet in each direction. piercings. she wears a silver hoop in the cartilage of her nose, a bull ring. alignment. between chaotic neutral & neutral evil, honestly.

* personality . nepharia gets through her life using dark humor to cope with her traumas, she’s heavily sarcastic and can be really mean and harsh most of the time. she’s not used to normal social interaction, and normally when she’s being talkative and charming, it’s because she feels like she needs to use her fiendish charms for survival. she uses it to gain advantage over someone, not when she’s genuinely interested in someone. she doesn’t let herself get close to people she actually likes, but if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. she’d probably be fighting a constant fight or flight with her own feelings.

killing people, especially powerful men, is just something she’s grown accustomed to. whether it be through her deadly seduction, or just the power her patron offers for the deed, she’s gotten good and has grown numb to both. it’s second nature to her now, but she likes to fantasize about a life where should live normally. settle down, fall in love, maybe start a family — but she knows it just isn’t in the cards for her. it can’t be. she’s used to violence and blood, however, a gentle touch and a kind word makes her cringe, as if she doesn’t deserve anything soft.

* quick backstory . nepharia was born into an extremely poor family, and her mother died giving birth to her. her father always hated her for this, and eventually sold nepharia to a powerful man who owned a tiefling brothel at the age of only sixteen. she also was born a pale, gray color, whereas both her mother and her father have crimson colored skin, her father always assumed her mother had been unfaithful to him, and also resented nepharia for this. nepharia is the name her mother would have chosen for her, had she survived the childbirth.

but it’s true, neph’s father isn’t her biological father, for neph’s mother was ravaged in the night while she was sleeping by an incubus, and thus nepharia was born. half tiefling, half succubus, though she wasn’t aware of this, not for many more years.

nepharia spent another decade under the abusive ownership of theodor, the owner of the brothel, forced to be with countless clients though never touching any of the coin made from her labor herself. eventually, people started to complain about feeling abnormally sluggish and weak after buying an evening with nepharia, and she was even the reason many warriors fell in battle -- after a single night with the succubus, the strongest of warriors could meet a bloody end. before too long, after enough complaints, nepharia was punished by being offered to the more -- rough -- clients of theodor, clients he always promised she wouldn’t have to deal with.

after weeks of brutality, neph started to get visited by a regular client at least once every other day. this customer never wanted sex, in fact, he only ever talked to her during their sessions, telling her that she was far more than just a tiefling to be beaten, used and discarded. this client revealed himself to be a devil, residing in the depths of the nine hells deep in the abyss, and he craved the lifeforce of rich and powerful men in the mortal realm, but retrieving their souls was difficult. but it wouldn’t be for nepharia, all she had to do was what she’s been doing since she was a young teenage girl.

when the devil offered her great power to slay her captors, to kill theodor and everyone that ever hurt her, nepharia was so desperate and broken that she didn’t even hesitate to agree. the devil laid his hand upon nepharia’s face, and she winced and yelped at the searing pain burning into her. as the devil pulls his hand away, she’s left with a mark in abyssal, saying that she is the property of ‘zymimor’ for the rest of eternity.

after that moment, it was as if the fires of the hells coursed through nepharia’s veins, triggering her true form. she stood taller, her fangs and claws grew slightly longer, and gray, pale wings sprouted from her shoulder blades. she never knew she could do that, just as she never knew she was a succubus to begin with. for the first time in her entire life, she had power. she hid within the wingless form she was used to until she could get theodor alone. she seduced him, almost eagerly, and now she knows what she could do. as she gave him her body, she drained every ounce of energy from his, absorbing his lifeforce into her until there was nothing left, and he was just a corpse beneath her. she made sure to spread her wings in his last moments, so he could see what she really was, and the creature he made the mistake of fucking with. the devil offered her knowledge of the power she already had, and also the power to slaughter the rest of the men inside of the brothel with the magic she never had before.

for about four to five years after escaping theodor and the brothel, nepharia enjoyed the power she was given in the beginning. no one could fuck with her, she felt invincible -- like a god. zymimor, her patron, always had work for her, and in return made sure that she was well paid. there are few empires who know of the true nature of what nepharia is, and in those areas, she’s already assassinated many a king and dictator, emperor and ruler, with her abyssal body alone and her fiendish, deadly charm. zymimor eventually taught her how to travel to the abyss, where she is to bring back the souls of the men she kills for her patron to absorb.

recently, though, nepharia is getting... depressed. sometimes, she feels like the only thing she’s good for is fucking men to death, and how many of them actually deserved it? some of them treated her rather well, but she had her orders. she fell in love with one of her targets once, and that ended in brutal, bloody heartache and she hasn’t really been herself since. she’s deeply sad, deeply broken, deeply conflicted and lost. she craves love, something she’s never felt once in her entire life, but she’s convinced that she doesn’t deserve it. not after everything she’s done. not when she kills the people she loves. she wants to believe she’s “free”, trying to convince herself every day that she’s not still a slave, afraid of the person who commands her. she knows love is something someone like her gets to feel. so she secludes herself, not allowing herself to get close to anyone, and just doing her job -- and doing it well -- it’s all she’s ever known.

then, after years of her only regular social interations being when she’s on a job and trying to seduce the victims of her patron, the nautiloid wreaks havoc on a small town she keeps to herself in, taken right out of her home in the middle of the night…

* other / misc info . nepharia hides the fact that she’s a succubus from everyone she meets, not wanting to be treated differently for what she is, she sees enough racism simply existing as a tiefling.

more tba.

* half - illithid verse / act iii. the fight with ketheric thorm was hard, and neph barely made it out alive. she gave it everything she had, including her wings. she fought the battle in her truest form, and the apostle of myrkul snatched her out of the air, ripping off her wings before throwing her into a wall. she believes her fury, the mourning of something precious to her, is what got her through the rest. the raw power of her anger was just enough to defeat ketheric, plus the help of her mighty companions.

nepharia’s wings were special to her. the look on people’s faces when she would shift into her truest form, the power she felt, the intimidated murmurs she received. the freedom of being able to fly was unlike any other. when the emperor offers nepharia the special tadpole, she’s hesitant, but it doesn’t even take an entire day for her to decide to consume it. she knows the horrors of what they are facing, and she knows she’s going to need all of the power she can get if she’s going to survive. but she doesn’t just want to survive. she wants control. if nepharia can control the elder brain, then she doesn’t have to worry about anyone ever again. no man, no devil, no god would be able to touch her ever again.

more tba.

[the-whispers-of-death]

10 Fun Facts About Kali

This is because Kali is an unknown OC to... everyone right now and I thought, let's learn more about him!

Kali loves the sun (yes this is me being self-indulgent with yet another OC) and he loves it so much that he'll often sit outside just to feel the sun rays on his skin. He doesn't care if he burns, let him burn.

When he was sixteen, he got his parents' permission to get a nose piercing. It was a regular nostril piercing with a nose ring and he thought he looked so cool. He honestly loved it, until he realized that he wanted to get into the military so then he took it out and let the piercing close.

Due to being born and raised in Georgia, he has a southern accent but he also has an Indian accent due to his parents being Indian immigrants. So he has a mixed accent that confuses the fuck out of people.

While Kali is an only child, he has a huge extended family that all live in India. He loves going to India and visiting his family, he's a huge family man. All of his cousins are women and they have kids that he absolutely adores and since he's the only man out of his cousins, their kids call him Auntie Ashok for the consistency (and he loves it).

Despite it not being in the intended age audience when it came out, he has read of The Hunger Games books and watched all of the movies. Yes, he's a simp for young Coriolanus Snow. And he will never forgive Suzanne Collins for killing off Finnick.

Kali loves to sing. He used to sing in retirement homes when he was younger and he often sings while he's walking around the base. Hence why his nickname is "The Phantom of the Opera".

Before his love for wolves, he loved horses. Like so much so that all of his friends in middle school were those horse girlies. He was so down to listen to them rave about horses, simply because he also loved horses.

If Kali walks into a bar where there's a mechanical bull, he will not leave without trying his hand at riding the mechanical bull. He does not care if it bruises him, the cowboy in him loves those mechanical bulls.

Speaking of Kali loving the sun, he actually moved to Texas (but of course he lives in Austin, Texas) because Georgia just wasn't as hot as he liked.

Ironically, Kali has a fear of height. The man is 6'6", with a fear of heights.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[mega-ringsandthings-world]

Oh Rings—can I call you rings?— with every Analysis and au you post my mind becomes intrigued you really understand and get to the heart of are favorite sometimes divorced most times fight couple that is Mishanks. I adore it and your post make you day.

But this Loguetown AU... now, that's some sadness and angst waiting to happen. And genius, truly. It makes sense to draw all these pirates and people to the execution and snap them up as they come rushing in. I'm guessing a lot of Marines and civilians died, but I’m sure that was a sacrifice the World Government was willing to make. Did Doflamingo get caught? He’s got friends or at least blood high up, so I assume he wasn’t caught for long.

And I’m certain just as how Shanks isn’t our fun-loving, calculating Yonko, and Mihawk isn’t our ever-bored, apathetic gardener warlord, as we know and love them in the future. Familiar faces will definitely have differing personalities, yet to face the horrors of paradise and the new world, yet to have their Sabaody arc(or maybe this is their Sabaody) and oh Mihawk you ambitious, vicious, little teen you. I can’t wait for you to earn your new epithet, i’m sure it will be… bloody. And I’m also assuming in this timeline that whoever decides to bring him the offer becoming a warlord is laughed at and then bisected for the gull.

Also total forgot Dragon. Mans is in his prime.. I’m sure he got away maybe he even run into a blue haired red nosed clown? Maybe not we can only guess but ahh that’s the fun of it! Who lives who dies who becomes a revolutionary? pirate? who gives up? that’s what it is really all that aren’t they?

All that to say, I love this au I will now place it delicately into my one piece brain au folder we’re it will be chewed on like a pit bull with lock jaw.

Rings is great! I have to say, I'm thrilled my mishanks posts are such a hit, with you and everyone else enjoying them! I was having fun putting my random thoughts on them out there, and now it's even more fun. Angst and sadness is the key! Maybe it's horrible (and I'm not apologizing for that, lol) but I love drama and discord and awful high-stake situations. And what can give more angst than messing with Shanks right after Roger's death? And throwing Mihawk in there for the ride? The entire pirates-are-captured-by-the-World-goverment-at-Roger's-execution is one big excuse to get Shanks and Mihawk into Marine custody together, where they have only themselves to rely on. And since they are going to meet and fall in love in Marine captivity (they will be there a while) their dynamic will be more intense from the start. Their natural connection + the trauma bond. There's going to be a huge fight and many dead for sure, because none of those pirates are going quietly, but the marines had a plan from the beginning, of course. If they didn't they wouldn't have been able to take anyone. And I will say that they were also gunning for Shanks specifically. For reasons. The marines/admirals/world goverment will certainly be the villians of the story. Doflamingo knew enough to get out of dodge before anything went down, as did certain other people. Coincidence? Well, maybe not. I do love young!mishanks, so Mihawk and Shanks being earlier versions of themselves is half the appeal about this AU. You can see their older selves in them, but they are younger and there's everything that comes with that. They are not quite the men they will become. (and that goes for all the other characters too!) Which means they can be hurt much, much more easily.

I said this was one of my darkest wips because Bad Things are going to happen to them, it won't just be threats or easily patched wounds. This being their Sabaody is spot-on! Everything will be All Right in the end, but they're going to go through things to get there. Mihawk's rise will be bloody. (so will Shanks') and maybe it's too early to talk about this plot, but they're also going to get revenge. through some interesting means. After what Mihawk suffers in the time spent as a captive, the very idea of him becoming a Warlord would be nothing but the highest insult. (That's not to say that becoming one is off the cards, but that's a different story) Ahh, Dragon. He's one of the ones who gets away, with someone else important. Buggy having got away is crucial, because him being free comes into play later. I don't plan on killing many people, but making them suffer is fair game. And this entire scenario is going to change the course of the future for sure. All that is too say, I have all this I need to write and get out there to you guys already, lol. I love how much you love it!

[eclipsedcrystalstar]

hmmm astrals design notes

Aquarius: some kind of vase imagery, perhaps skin looks more painted in the way old vases were while maintaining the astrals color scheme?

Pisces: Fishnets on the arms and legs, fins in the place of hair, scales on face

Aries: Design already made

Taurus: physically larger, bull tail, horns of course. Nose ring

Gemini: Castor with a scar. Pollux with lightning themes. Emerald and pearl weapons (birthstones for May and June, the months Gemini is in)

Cancer: Glasses in the shape of the symbol, tough armor, many arms

Leo: Lion furry Lion with golden fur, sharp claws

Virgo: Woman with wings, harvest themes

Libra: Maybe blindfolded, scales of course, maybe looks a bit like a jackal due to Anubis

Scorpio: must I even say it. Scorpion traits

Sagittarius: Centaur with an arrow quiver

Capricorn: Goat furry