#the new winter magic thing is a bit weird

[horseskitchen]

The night is closing in

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Creations Dance

Danny likes to dance in the night sky while flying in his new ghostly form which is very ethereal holding glimpses of different parts of space and creations unknown, this continues even after he moves to Gotham.

The sky around him becomes his stage,

A stage that matches him and follows his lead.

Gotham has never had such clear skies, able to see each and every star shining brightly.

Twinkling in many colours almost seeming to dance alongside Danny,

Sharing his joy in their existence.

~

Duke had seen the new phenomenon that was Gotham's skies, who hadn't it was all he would hear people talking around him anytime he left the house, speaking of which were also discussing the same.

Bruce, Tim, and Barbara all researching to see what had caused the change, their bet so far was on magic but not sure who or what was causing it or the reason why.

He had seen the others also poking around seeing if they could find a lead.

But the most curious of all being Jason's new demeanor, ever since the night skies had changed he seemed to calm down almost seeming peaceful.

Which don't get him wrong was a great thing to happen but the timing of it all was too weird, honestly even Bruce was tense about the sudden turn around in demeanor.

So with everyone else occupied he decided he might as well go and enjoy the night sky, it was a very amazing view to miss out on.

He had discovered a new spot a bit far from home but it was quiet and private and would make the perfect spot to stargaze comfortably without being interrupted.

~

He had fallen asleep accidentally but something had woken him up.

He noticed that it was cold, cold enough that he could just barely see his breath in the air in front of him which should not be possible since it was almost summer, had Mr.Freeze escaped?

Looking around now alert he caught a flash of something up above his head.

Looking up he saw..light and darkness and so many things that his mind couldn't comprehend rather less describe.

His eyes shifted trying to make out what he was seeing, in the center was a being..dancing?

The being seemed to feel his eyes on them because in the next moment they turned to stare at him.

He could feel the weight of their eyes on him their entire presence focused around him radiating power and joy.

Continuing to stare at each other the only thing Duke could think of was,

"You're gorgeous.."

Duke snapped back realizing he had said that out loud his face warming, but the being in front of him seemed delighted.

"Thank you! I'm surprised you're able to see me."

"It's hard not to, you were dancing so happily I could feel it in my chest."

They-he? floated closer

"If you liked my dancing so much you could continue to visit me here to see."

" If you're okay with it then I would really like that, my name is Duke."

"It's a date then Duke! You can call me Danny."

~

God what was he going to tell the others? He found the cause for the change in Gotham but Danny seemed to be good, not a villain.

Well he'll keep it a secret for a while more right now he had to prepare for his date!

~

Duke sees Danny dancing around in the sky: "We'll have a winter wedding."

~

Duke seeing the Bats stressing and losing sleep trying to figure what's going on: "Should I say something? Hm nah."

~

Danny Dancing around in the sky while Duke is in the background being a supporting bf cheering him on with pom poms: "That's my boyfriend woo~!"

~

The bats for some reason arguing about each other's past relationships and crushes

Steph pointing at Dick: You're the one with the strangest taste seriously out of everyone in this family Duke and I are the only ones with normal taste! Right Duke!"

Duke " My Boyfriend is a Being/Ancient Ghost of Space That Most of the Time Doesn't Look Human/Humanoid" Thomas: * face sweating while he tries to sneak out of the room* "Umm..*voice crack* y-yeah."

~

I really enjoyed writing this one, I don't see a lot of Duke/Danny, but the works I've read are all so wonderful ♡

~

Just an Idea

[artofshinga]

A bit ago I did a whole-ass set of warlocks based on D&D 5e subclasses - mostly for fun and also because my RP group was planning a warlock game. I didn't HAVE to draw one of each but doing so DID help me decide which one I wanted to play (this is, to note, why the characters are all pretty fem-coded - because that's my favorite to RP) Anyway, after I drew them all, folks asked if I'd do other classes too. And I was like, maybe? But, sorcerer did sound fun to do this with so over the last few months I've been working on them kinda on the side while I put most my energy in, like, the commissions I need to finish lol. But here, a bunch of theoretical sorcerers I'd personally play in a game:

Let's start us off with Iris, a half-elf who'd be living a pretty normal life in a normal job (I was thinking she was probably a waitress or somethin) until she finds something weird - a piece of a meteor or something, you know how it goes. Suddenly she has powers, and that's where her adventure would begin More sorcerers under the cut!

Tally I struggled with because, as it turns out, little mechanical fairy wings are complicated to draw. BUT also fun - I liked the idea of a fairy who's lost her wings and while she's trapped in the material plane she befriends a clockmaker who builds her little wings for her and eventually her magic ends up kind of syncing up with the mechanical way he teaches her about the world

Elysia was actually the last one I drew, since I have a DIFFERENT Divine Soul sorcerer I've already designed and want to play as a priority, but then I happened to see something about Greek gods while watching TV one day and thought, oh hey, that'd be a fun way to play with a divinity-themed sorcerer - maybe a musician that caught the affections of a god who blessed her with magic

Cherish is a cheerful tiefling working at an inn with her former-adventurer mother. We can guess what sort of things her mother got up to in her adventure since she ended up raising a child with some mysteriously draconic features

NGL Aine was just a way for me to play with some of the inspirations I used to cling to as a kid. Sailor Moon and other various bits of anime and JRPGs and such that I loved in my youth and used a LOT to inspire art. I wanted to remember that - and a catgirl wearing too many belts sounded perfect for that

Leila is probably my weirdest - she's SPECIFIC, like if there's a campaign set in the Shadowfell or something, I imagined a maid working in a mansion that gets magicked away to this realm and her gaining that shadow power when it happens

One of my first 5e characters was a storm sorcerer - more focused on rain and lightning and thunder. I used the same hair color and close to the same skin color to make this new storm sorcerer as a bit of a nod to that character, and wanted this one more focused on winter storms (including making her a winter eladrin elf)

and last but certainly not least, Gemma the halfling cursed with wild magic. I think she started off her adventuring life with a thieves' group before they found the wrong magic artifact. You know how it goes

[bokettochild]

Hyrule headcannons because :)

he doesn't actually understand Hylian Sign, he grew up in Calatia and knows their sign, but he's still new to Hylian anything, but since the others don't realize this, he sometimes gets left out of conversations

He's bi-lingual, Calatian and Hylian both, with a small smattering of Labryn

he absolutely loves sweet things, with a preference for sugary items over juicy ones

he tends to save extra non-perishable foods in his bag for a rainy day

he has a favorite type of bug, and yes, it's based off of flavor

he adores butterflies and likes finding out new kinds, because their wings are all so pretty and unique (he will not eat them)

he knows a lot about geology, just not the proper terms. he has his own vernacular for geological happenings, but he has a good grasp on the science of it all outside of that

he's better attuned to magical signatures than the rest of the chain

he likes Wild as a person, but while they share interests and habits, Wild's magic is strongest when he's doing what he loves and because his magic is Very Off-Putting, it makes it hard to be around him for extended periods

he has so many unspoken puns. Pun King. He doesn't think they'd be appreciated by the others, but he's biding his time until they're all comfortable enough with each that it won't matter

his favorite color is yellow because that's how his parents described the sun before Ganon's power corrupted the world

he's very good at weaving, and while art isn't his thing so much, designing new patterns for his fabric is a fun past time when he's very bored

because Hylian culture is new to him, he's been studying it a lot and, unlike the others, has already pieced together a rough timeline

he actually doesn't care much for his fairy form and only uses it when he needs to, mostly because he perfers the freedoms that having a larger body gives him, even if flying is nice

the idea of birds is still very new to him, and he tends to be off-put by bird-song and the sound of wings; the world making noise is still weird to him

while he's okay with having someone treat his wounds, he's very insistent about clean-up afterwards due to his blood being a key to resurrect Ganon. He's not above using Legend's hemophobia as an excuse either, if it gets him out of explaining

a bit of a clean freak in general, he likes to keep his items in perfect condition and organized, even his cave has precise places for everything

while birds are off-putting, he likes feathers, he likes collecting fallen ones to wash and tusk in his bag, not to use on anything particularly, just because they're pretty

he thinks cows are one of the most beautiful creatures in the world (Malon loves it)

he's very particular about gift giving; showing thanks is important, but giving gifts out of the blue feels rude because it makes others feel awkward, still, he'll make sure to return any gift given to him, usually with a particularly pretty feather, rock, or a small woven trinket

during long winters he used to build tiny houses with sticks to entertain himself, and his designs are very intricate at times

his favorite type of food (outside of sweets) is soups, he fully supports food being drinkable and when Wild introduced him to smoothies (sweet and drinkable) he fell in love

he loves art, although he doesn't care to try making it, but legend's sketching and Sky's carving have his full support and awe. Aurora likes to paint as well and he can spend hours just watching her work

he's terrified of babies, he's certain he'd either break them or get them sick or somehow screw them up, so bringing a baby in the room is one of the quickest ways to make him leave

in contrast, he loves cats and handles them like most people do babies

math whizz

[m-jelly]

Requested:

Levi x reader + Narnia (base?/theme? from the three movies) 😊😅

I know the Narnia books and movies. I can work with this! Normally I don't do movie or tv or book inspired, but I know this and I can make it Royal AU with magic easily!

Another land with love

Levi x fem!reader

Royal AU, magic AU, fluff, romance, falling in love, villain Levi is actually the good guy, becoming a couple, Narnia inspired.

In your attempt to flee your terrifying partner, you climb through a closet and end up in a new world. You're soon captured by Count Levi Ackerman whom you're warned is evil. During your time with the Count, the two of you fall in love, discover your powers and learn the Queen is the true villain.

Warning, this is a long one because I was given too much free rein on this! It wasn't a scene. Sorry it's a tad long, I tried to cut it down. This has two parts to it.

@ladycheesington @darkstarlight82 @levisbrat25 @galactict3a @nyxiieluna

@li-anne @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

@searriously

Panic consumed your very soul. The heat from your heavy breathing wrapped around you as you tried to stay quiet inside the closet. Tears stung your eyes as terror took over. Your body was working overdrive listening to anything. Fight and flight were kicking in.

As your partner's footsteps got closer to the room you were hiding in, you knew that he'd find you and beat you. So, you wiggled further back into the closet and felt cold air. Intrigued and hopeful that this could be your way out, you turned and shoved your way through the musty clothes towards the coldness.

Musty old clothes soon turned into rough pine branches covered in snow. Pain shot through your feet as you ran through thick snow, you were not wearing the clothes for this kind of weather but you would rather face a bitter winter than what was behind you.

It was like the trees were trying to help you be free because there was a push behind them. Eventually, you flung your body out of the treeline and slammed against the snow. With the momentum of your efforts, you rolled down the hill and smacked into a post of a fence lining a road.

You lay there for a while as you let the tears run down your cheeks, you were fed up with everything. After crying for a bit you pushed yourself up and started following the road until you noticed lanterns and a town in the distance. You needed to find someone to help you out.

As you shook from the bitter cold air you noticed posters about the dreaded Count, to be careful of him and to inform the Queen of any and all of his activities. Count Levi Ackerman seemed handsome from the drawing, but you knew better than to have anything to do with bad men again.

You stumbled into an empty tavern and over to the keeper. "H-Hello. I a-ah, need help."

He stared at you. "You're not from here."

You shook your head. "I came here through some weird doorway." You shivered. "I don't know what's happening."

He hurried around to you and guided you to the fireplace. As soon as he sat you down, he wrapped a blanket around you. "I'll get you something warm to drink."

"Th-thank you."

The keeper sat with you and explained you were in a snowy land called Paradis which was ruled by a kind Queen, but rumours are spreading that she might be causing the long winter. He informed you that Count Levi was the Queen's rival, he'd been raiding lands and taking it for his own. All people who use magic are with the Count.

It was clear the more this man talked, the more there was disgust and dislike for anyone with magical abilities. The Queen had linked magic to the Count and therefore all magical people and things were bad. The more he spoke the more uncomfortable you were becoming because you had come here by magic.

He stared at you. "Are you magical?"

You gripped your drink. "No. Magic doesn't exist in my world."

"But you came here by magic."

You put the cup down and held your hands up. "I'm not magical."

He stared at your hands to see a light pink light dance around your hands. "Filthy blood! You're a magus!"

You stood up. "I'm telling you, I'm not from this world. I don't use magic."

He grabbed your upper arm and dragged you out of the tavern. "You're all the same! Disgusting magus!"

You screamed when he threw you hard out of his tavern and against the muddy road. "Ow!"

"You belong in the mud! You pig! MAGUS! MAGUS!"

"Tch, oi?" Both you and the tavern owner looked at a man sitting on a black horse wearing a thick black cloak, black clothes under, black undercut hair and the most devilishly handsome face. "Watch your mouth."

The tavern owner shook. "Th c-count!"

You watched him trip up his stairs and fall into his tavern and lock it. A shiver ran through you as you felt the Count's eyes bore into you. You turned your head and gazed at him only to see his gaze was not of rage or disgust, but something rather soft. Never in all your years has a man ever looked at you like that before.

He jumped off his horse and strolled over to you. "So, you're a magic user and by the looks of you, you're not from this world."

You gulped hard. "I fell into this world through a doorway. Please, don't make me go back."

He crouched next to you and felt his cheeks heat up at how pretty you were. "You must be frozen and scared." He pulled his thick cloak off and wrapped it around you before scooping you up into his strong arms. "Tell me, why do you fear going back?"

"There's only pain. A man is waiting who claims he loves me."

"He hurt you?"

You nodded. "Yes."

Levi gripped you tightly. "I won't let you go back." He sat you on his horse before climbing up and holding you. "I'm Count Levi Ackerman."

You gave your name. "Thank you for your cloak, but aren't you cold?"

"I use fire magic, I'm fine." He looked down at you and thought you looked adorable. "Rest, I'll take care of you and bring you somewhere safe."

You admired Levi's cold beauty. "O-Okay."

He held you close and activated his power causing you to feel a gentle warmth coming from him. He wasn't sure who you were, or where you came from but when he looked into your eyes he saw a connection with you. The two of you were bound in some way, and he felt a need or desire to take care of you.

He glanced down at you as his horse walked and saw you were clinging to him and asleep. He smiled softly and enjoyed the contact with you.

It'd been a few weeks since you'd arrived at Levi's manor. Everyone had cared for you and treated you like you were the Countess of the home. Levi treated you as if you were his darling love. He was so kind and attentive to your needs.

Magic lessons with Levi were fun, he was teaching you how to embrace your newfound abilities. You listened to every word he said and in return, he listened to you about your world. Levi was fascinated by your world and all the cleaning products you had access to.

The way Levi gazed at you, talked to you and smiled at you made you think he possibly had feelings for you. As the weeks passed, he started bringing you gifts that brightened your day. Some of you hoped he cared for you like you cared for him.

You reached out and watched a huge oak tree grow from the earth from your pink magic. You marvelled at how big and brilliant it was. "I can't believe I can make something like this."

Levi stood behind you and ran his hand down your arm stretched out. "You are brilliant. I've never seen this kind of magic before. You're almost as powerful as me. I believe if we work together we can stop the Queen."

You turned and faced Levi as he played with your hand and caressed your cheek. "I hate that everyone has you wrong." You leaned into his touch. "You're a good man who is misunderstood."

"I'm happy as long as you understand me."

Your cheeks heated up. "I need to ask you something."

"You can ask me anything."

You let out a shaky sigh. "I need to know how you feel."

He tilted his head. "How do I feel? I feel okay."

You shook your head a bit. "N-Not that, b-but I'm glad you're okay."

He released you and stepped back as he called your name.

You panicked a bit. "I-I'm sorry, I w-won't ask!"

He called your name again. "You can ask me anything. I was just moving back because look."

You lifted your head to see flowers everywhere and Levi was covered in them too. You gasped a bit and felt your heart race. "Ah, s-sorry."

He smiled. "It's beautiful. You must be feeling something good."

You stared at him and admired his smile, which only caused more flowers to grow around him and little lights of pink to float around him. "Levi?"

He looked over at you as some light landed on his finger. "I'm in love with you."

You gasped. "H-huh?"

He blushed hard. "S-sorry, but I just felt so compelled to say how I felt." He approached you. "It's true though." He held your hands. "I hope you feel the same way."

You nodded shyly. "I do. I love you too. I was going to ask you if you care for me, but now I have my answer."

Levi pulled you against him. "May I kiss you?"

You whined a little. "You may, but I will warn you if you do you might be swallowed up by flowers."

Levi chuckled and held you against him. "I'm willing to take the risk. Besides, I might end up surrounding you with my flames."

You gasped when fire danced up your arms. "Warm."

He leaned closer and spoke against your lips. "They won't hurt you. They're gentle like I am with you."

Before you could answer him, he pressed his lips against yours and hummed in happiness. The heat between the two of you was addictive. The two of you clung to each other as the kiss deepened. More flowers grew and combined with Levi's flame abilities causing big, bright and dazzling flame flowers to grow around the two of you.

Levi pulled back from your lips and sighed. "Better than I imagined."

You giggled. "Yeah, you're right."

"I think you're my soulmate." He groaned a bit. "Tch, that sounded so cheesy."

You cupped his face and kissed him. "I think we are, soulmates that is."

"I'm glad you feel the same way."

You nibbled your lip and noticed the flowers. "We made flowers together."

He held you close and looked at the flowers you mentioned. "They're...wow...incredible."

[venuscxre]

hii!! i love ur account so much<33 could i request a lancelot x reader where reader is meliodas and elizabeth’s child and her, tristan and lancelot have a sleepover and lancelot and reader end up cuddling eachother? tysm<3

☆: ❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ❞

synopsis ; the tristan platoon are supposed to be having a sleepover together, and as the prince’s younger sibling, naturally you’re invited to join them. however, lancelot is there too and he makes it his goal to get on your nerves. but, there’s nothing a good cuddle can’t fix!

content warning ; fluff, ooc lancelot since he’s relatively new to me, reader is tristan’s younger sibling, lance and the reader bicker a lot.

author’s note ; i’m glad you enjoy my content, thank you for this request anon!! i hope it’s up to your taste!! like i said, lance is new to me so he might be a bit out of character, but i really enjoyed writing for him!!

word count ; 2.4k

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

IT’S A FAIRLY NORMAL DAY IN LIONES, you’re out and about doing your normal royal duties which consists of assisting the villagers, dropping off some weird magical artifacts and herbs for hendrickson, assisting more villagers. you know, the usual. by the time you’re finished with all your duties, it’s dusk and you’re covered in grime and sweat.

you wave goodbye to the nice family you were helping out before mounting your horse alexander to head back to the castle, your pace is much slower than what you usually go by. you want to get home as soon as possible to take a nice long bath and get something to eat, sure, but at the same time, you longed to watch as the sun descended behind the clouds. it’s not everyday you get to do that with how busy you are nowadays.

your mind wanders as you ride. you take in the cool breeze, shivering when the wind blows a little too harshly. if you catch a cold neither your mother nor your older brother would let you hear the end of it. they’d baby you ‘till you can no longer stand it.

speaking of your brother, you wonder what he’s up to. ever since he was officially established as a knight of the apocalypse, you’ve barely seen him. he’s either out doing one thing or the other with his platoon or training to get stronger.

truth be told, you miss being able to do runs like these together. you sigh sadly as you recount the times you guys would prolong your outings to get some snacks or watch the sun set, sometimes you guys would wait ‘till the sky is filled with nothing but the twinkling stars. your father would always give you both an earful but he gave up after a while seeing as it was reoccurring. it became routine. but now, you can barely say good morning to tristan, sometimes you don’t see him for days on end. it’s lonely but you don’t want to express that empty feeling, he’s busy enough as is. you’ll just spend your days playing with the children of the village to pass time.

as the castle comes into view, you slow down even more, taking your sweet time before you’ll have to depart from your beloved steed. “welcome back, your highness,” the guards at the castle’s entrance greet as you trot in. you wave to them as you hop off alexander's back, leading him over to the stables where the horse tender takes him off your hands.

you stretch, popping your back and shoulders as you walk down the large halls of liones castle, heading up to your room to take a quick bath. by the time you’re out and ready to relax, the sun is out of view and the moon has begun to peek out from the horizon. “the days seem to be going faster now,” you mummer, “winter is closely approaching.”

you shut the door to your room behind you as you make your way to the kitchen. your stomach had been growling throughout your bath and the maid helping you had left to prepare something as per your request. as you draw near to the grand kitchen, you hear hushed whispers and little squeals which elicits a raised eyebrow of curiosity.

you peek into the kitchen, and lo and behold, your brother and his platoon are there all dressed in comfortable pyjamas as they gather some snacks. your snacks. you love your brother, you really do, but nobody takes your snacks.

“i’m gonna whoop his—“

“what’re you doing, y/n?”

you let out a screech, your soul almost leaving your body. you turn back to face the person who’d come up behind you, and your eyes meet lancelot’s ruby ones. he looks down at you, his arms are crossed over his chest, and he has an eyebrow raised in his typical sassy fashion.

“lancelot, you scared me…” you huff out, standing up straight. you awkwardly scratch the back of your head. this is not a good look for you.

“you should’ve heard me coming up behind you. don’t tell me you’ve been getting sloppy with your perceptive skills, your highness,” he leans closer to you, getting far too close for your liking.

“of course not! i was just… preoccupied,” you lie through the skin of your teeth, turning your head away to stare into the dimly lit hallway. lancelot says nothing in response, but gives you a teasing smile in return.

“sure, princess. sure.” he obviously doesn’t believe you. he pats your shoulder and walks into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets and back hunched in terrible posture just like his dad. god these two are so alike.

“princess y/n!” isolde squeals in delight, engulfing you in a warm hug the minute you step into the kitchen. you can’t help but grin when she scoops you into her arms, holding you off the floor to nuzzle her cheeks against yours. isolde gives the best hugs, hands down.

“hey, isolde. long time no see, eh?”

from the corner of your eye, you see jade waving to you and next to him is chion who just gives you a stare before turning his attention back to your older brother. typical.

“y/n! when did you get back?” tristan is quick to give you his own hug when isolde sets you back onto your feet. you wrap your arms around him and take a moment to relish in his warmth before answering his question.

“about an hour ago. i was in the bath.”

your brother hums in response, giving you a squeeze before he pulls away. “we were about to have a sleepover, would you like to join us?”

a sleepover, huh? that explains the pj’s and the snack theft. but, it sounds like a nice way to unwind. why not? it wouldn’t hurt, right? you follow after the tristan platoon and lancelot as you all make your way to your brother’s bedroom, the site for the sleepover tonight.

“i’m surprised you stuck around, lance,” you look towards the blonde who scratches his nape, heaving a sigh at the nickname. he doesn’t dislike it, really. he finds the intimacy in nicknames quite comforting, but when you call him that, he gets all nervous and jittery. he hates that feeling, it’s too out of character for him.

“didn’t i tell you not to call me that?”

you let out a huff at his comment. he should know by now that you’ll use every opportunity you have to annoy him. “aw but, lance,” you make sure to stress the name, silently snickering when he side eyes you, his face bearing an exasperated expression. “i’ve been calling you this since we were in diapers! why does it matter now?”

lancelot rolls his eyes at you, your shit eating grin serving to piss him off further. however, he makes no move to speed up his walking pace, it’s not like he’s actually mad at you. a little annoyed, sure, but, you’re the only one in the group he can actually stand so he might as well swallow the teasing. “cram it, princess.”

you let out a fake gasp of offence, dramatically placing your hand onto your chest. “lancelot! how vulgar!” you hear tristan snicker as lancelot lets out a loud groan in response to your antics.

when the lot of you finally reach the prince’s bedchamber, jade is quick to run in and flop onto the big mattress, sighing in content as he practically melts into the cotton. you follow suit and cuddle up to one of the pillows. the familiar smell of lavender immediately engulfs you and fills your senses, bringing back nostalgic memories that run as far back to your toddler days.

you clutch the pillow tight, thanking whatever deity that’s out there for allowing you this chance. they must have taken pity on you when you were reminiscing earlier and granted this opportunity. when the space beside you dips, you look over to see lancelot and notice how he still has his shoes on, not caring if the white bed sheets get dirty because of them.

“how crude of you to get on the bed with shoes on. dirty shoes no less.” lancelot’s left eye twitches at the jab you’d made. you’re seriously making him contemplate not being as nice to you as he normally is. so much for being the most tolerable one of the group.

“i suggest you watch what you say to me, princess,” he folds his arms over his chest, kicking off his shoes nonetheless. you cringe when they hit the wall with a thunk.

“what will you do if i don’t, hm, lance?” you egg him on, shooting him a pointed look. he scoffs at you.

“you really want to find out, princess?”

“alright, you two, no more fighting!” isolde scolds from her place at the foot of the bed, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. tristan nods in agreement.

“isolde’s right, we’re here to have fun and relax. put your bickering aside for tonight, please?”

you and lancelot side eye each other but grumble out your respective affirmations. tristan smiles at your compliance.

“now, let the fun begin!!”

remember when you said that partaking in this sleepover wouldn’t be a bad thing? yeah, you take that back. wanna know why? lancelot made it his mission to annoy you tonight.

you’re playing hide and seek? he’s making sure to scout you out first. you��re playing card games? get ready to lose five times in a row. it’s like he gets off at your misery. maybe you should ask his mom to teach you how to conceal your thoughts because this is just getting ridiculous.

“aaaand, i win, again! you really suck at this, princess,” lancelot gives you a smug smirk and it takes all your self restraint to not jump over the table and start brawling with him, but you’d probably lose at that too, so you just pout in annoyance instead.

“that’s just by luck, don’t get cocky!”

“mhm, sureeeeee.”

sensing that your patience has thinned considerably, tristan is quick to intervene. you really might start a fight with lancelot and that’s the last thing you all need. meliodas would definitely give you an earful about how “you need to conduct yourself with decorum,” even though he acts the exact same when your uncle ban pisses him off.

“how about we head to bed? it’s gotten really late,” the silver-haired prince smiles, already packing away the cards.

“oh come on, what’s one more round? the princess seems to be dying for another rematch.”

lancelot disregards the glare you send his way, your brother sighs. “y/n, do you want to play one more round?”

you see a flicker of pleading pool in his different coloured eyes and shake your head. you’ll get lancelot back at your own time, you guess.

“aw, scared i’ll kick your ass again, your highness?”

“shut the fuck up or i’ll shove those cards up your ass,” you hiss at him.

“oh, yeah? how crude of you to speak in such a vulgar way, princess.”

your eye twitches in response to his teasing and isolde is quick to hold you back from doing something you would most definitely regret when morning comes.

“that’s enough! to bed, both of you!”

you pout when tristan takes on a scolding tone of voice, grumbling about how lancelot started it. the man in question just shrugs. if all he had to do was annoy you to get so many cute reactions from you, he might as well make it into a habit. you already do this with him everyday, surely you can take what you dish out.

finally, you all settle into the king sized bed all ready to fall asleep, but there’s one tiny problem. lancelot is right behind you, breathing down your neck. when isolde suggested you all cuddle up on tristan’s bed, you didn’t mind being squished together with your childhood friends and your older brother, but having lancelot behind you was not ideal. it’s not like you hate him or anything, really, you don’t. it’s the opposite actually. you like him, that’s the problem, and you fear that he can hear your heart palpitating or he can hear your thoughts spiralling out of control at how close he is. you can feel his warmth bleeding into your skin. he’s so, so warm.

“can you please stop thinking so loud, princess? it’s hard to get some shut eye when all i hear is how warm i am.” your soul almost leaves your body when lancelot whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. you want to crawl into a hole and die there.

“…sorry.”

lancelot can’t hold back the chuckle that escapes him and wraps an arm around you. he leans in close enough to give you a teasing peck on your neck, fully aware of how sensitive you are. “go to sleep, princess.”

gosh, now there’s really no hope for you.

“aww, they’re so cute!!”

“shh… don’t wake them!”

you’re pulled out of your peaceful slumber at the hushed whispers around you. what the hell are the yapping about so early in the morning?

“shut your traps,” you hear lancelot’s voice come out in an annoyed grunt and feel his arms tighten around you. hold on, his what tightened around you?

your eyes flutter open and you see that you’re pressed against his chest, giving you a front row seat to the ethereal sight of the sun illuminating his face just right. wow, he really is a fairy. it’s not fair how beautiful he is, especially so early in the morning.

“like what you see, princess?”

when your eyes meet his ruby ones, you feel as if you’ve died and reached heaven. he grins down at you. you were too busy admiring him that you couldn’t even say anything back, huh?

“good morning to you too, i guess.”

you’re snapped out of your daze and push him away, quickly getting up and making up some half assed excuse before running out of the room. isolde chases after you, fully set on teasing you while the others, with the exception of chion, try to make sure the both of you don’t wake up the entire palace. lancelot chuckles, the image of your flustered face will forever be in the back of his mind. yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

© 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐗𝐑𝐑; plagiarism, retranslation or reposts of my work are completely unauthorized.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. <33

[vexwerewolf]

Hi Vex,

I had a mech idea/concept that I really want to flesh out but I'm not exactly sure how to best build it. The idea came from a conversation I had with my group about the Mecha genre vs the Sailor Moon/Magical Girl genre. And I thought, 'what if they kissed worked together?' So I decided to try and build a Magical Girl themed Mech.

So far, I am considering using Manticore as a base frame because I am really tempted to call it Sailor RA and do the whole "In the name of RA, I will CASTIGATE you!" thing. Other than that I'm thinking about maybe a Controller type build and/or maybe focusing on the really weird/paracausal abilities? Do you have any ideas for this kind of build?

Thank you!!!

Since we're doing Sailor Moon Magical Girl stuff, have you considered that instead of using the Manticore, you could use the Lycan, a Manticore altframe from the upcoming Operation Winter Scar module?

-- HORUS Lycan @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] HORUS Manticore 2, IPS-N Nelson 2, IPS-N Blackbeard 2 [ CORE BONUSES ] Overpower Caliber, Gyges Frame [ TALENTS ] Executioner 3, Nuclear Cavalier 3, Walking Armory 3 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:0 ENGI:2 STRUCTURE:4 HP:21 ARMOR:2 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:8 REPAIR:5 TECH ATK:+1 LIMITED:+1 SPD:4 EVA:8 EDEF:10 SENSE:8 SAVE:13 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Shock Claws Integrated: Fuel Rod Gun FLEX MOUNT: Thermal Rifle HEAVY MOUNT: Nanocarbon Sword (Thermal Charge) // Overpower Caliber [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, Beckoner, Smite, Armament Redundancy

I call this one ECLIPSING BINARY SUPERGIANT PRISM POWER MAKEUP.

So the Lycan's basic conceit is that it's a two state system. You start combat with your normal stats as listed above, and a dormant superheavy weapon called the Shock Claws that cannot be used.

It has Slag Carapace just like the Manticore, giving it resistance to Energy and Burn damage. However, it replaces the Manticore's Unstable System, Charged Exoskeleton and CASTIGATE THE ENEMIES OF THE GODHEAD traits with two new ones. Interference Field causes nearby enemies to take Difficulty on attacks that don't target the Lycan, and Power Flux, which causes enemies to potentially become Impaired and Slowed if you take heat.

Your mech plays mostly like a normal Manticore for the first part of the fight. However, at any time, you may activate your core power, GO LOUD, which as a full action causes your mech to violently shed its outer plating. You lose Slag Carapace and Interference Field, your base Armor becomes 0 and your base speed becomes 6. You may then immediately move your speed and attack an enemy with your Shock Claws.

That's not all, however: you can charge up your Shock Claws by watching your allies get hurt.

If your friends take Structure damage before you GO LOUD, it charges up your Shock Claws. They initially deal 3d6+6 AP Energy damage (Overkill) in Threat 1 (although Gyges Frame already bumps that up to Threat 2) and cause another nearby enemy to take 1d6 AP Energy damage. If you see an ally take Structure damage, that goes up to Threat 2 (Threat 3 with Gyges). If you see an ally take Structure damage a second time, the damage increases to 4d6+6 AP Energy (Overkill) and the number of enemies who get struck by secondary damage increases to 2.

If an ally is destroyed in your line of sight before you GO LOUD, your Shock Claws instantly charge to full power, no matter what state they were in before.

This is a little bit more Super Saiyan than Sailor Moon, but you do get to go through a whole transformation/power up sequence and smite your enemies because they were mean to your friends.

[carlyraejepsans]

As a canon sans fanatic, man,I JUST LOVE HOW YOU WRITE SANS! I want to write sans as faithful to the canon like you one day, so you have some tip or something to master the art of writing sans undertale as accurated as possible?

make a file with all of his lines. the undertale text dump is your best friend. select all, copy, open a new document, paste it in. the deltarune one is a bit trickier because it's not formatted as tidily but it's there too. as for the rest, you're on your own. alarm clock winter dialogue, casino dialogue, crosstitch book, Q&A. all of it. snoop around. and then format it into looking normal. this means removing all the asterisks and putting it all back into chronological order because the dialogue dump is a bit all over the place. i used to be annoyed about it, but honestly it was a good excuse to look at the dialogue more. i already have a fully formatted doc but... not gonna share it with ya. half the benefit comes from having to read it so many times yourself while putting it together. actually, this is a practice I'd recommend to learn the voice for any UT character

you are going to treasure this file. consult it constantly. now, make ANOTHER file, open them side by side, and start jotting down shit. sentence length, structure, vocal tics, any pattern you can spot. look at what makes him tick. for the more, uhhh, mathematical side of the analysis, sometimes i plug bits and pieces of it in prowritingaid. the free plan does 500 words per session. it rules.

i am not kidding, are you writing in his voice? then consult that file constantly. if a specific term feels weird, look if he's said it before in canon. if he hasn't, look for a synonym (or shortened version). if he doesn't have that, either reword your bit, look for phrases where he says basically the same thing but with a different structure, or just say fuck it and leave it in anyway. hey, I'm not your babysitter

undertale is a comedy and sans is a comedic character. his comedic role is as crucial to his persona as his speech pattern is. sure you can make him be funny, but is he being funny in a way that fits his role?

continuing off the previous point: sans is a "born lucky" character. a jester. a troll. in a comedic context, this means he's always landing on his feet. this man's got the rules of comedy wrapped around his fingers so tight you'd figure they owe him money. one does not simply "dunk" on sans undertale. either the situation isn't goin to arise full stop, or you're going to get your ass handed back to you with "some king" written on it in magic marker, or he's going to roll with the punch. people don't laugh AT sans, they laugh WITH him.

do you however require him to eat shit for story purposes? alright. like i said, roll with the punches. if he can't turn the situation around in his favor, he's going to brush it off with humor and nonchalance. relegate the shit eating to the machinations of his inner monologue

so! you managed to get all the way here with a reasonably canon sounding sans and now you're finally at that emotional scene you wanted to write for so long! how exciting! dial it back. it's too emotional. "but i already d-" nope. trust me, I'm guilty of this too. artists and writers love melodrama, but whatever you're thinking is too showy for him. so dial it back again for good measure.

"but what if i insult his brother to his face-" you can do that in-game, he tells you sarcasm isn't funny, says a nice thing about him, then moves on like nothing happened

"but what if i killed his brother-" you also do that. in the game. he leaves. hauls ass immediately, drops off the face of the earth, takes a memento with him and then he's Gone. his meetings with him afterwards are brief, sterile and resentful, but he doesn't explode or anything

continuing once again, Angry Sans Does Not Yell. there's a whole fandom subgroup dedicated to making him a big burly roaring axe-weilding cannon blazing killing machine. this is very cheap. sans is an example of one of the most impactful uses of audio design in undertale, and it's when it cuts out entirely as he begins to speak. sans is terrifying because he's quiet.

there's only one occasion where he raises his voice and acts intimidating in a more stereotypically tough guy way, and that's in the second part of his fight. you know, when he's getting tired by the minute, his trap already failed and he's not so metaphorically feeling the hounds of hell yapping at his bony heels. he's panicking, and it takes him a LOT to get there, so if it happens in your story don't throw it out there all willy nilly.

likewise, long gone are the days of teary eyed sans clutching papyrus' scarf, vowing to revenge his death and bring you to justice to protec-wait a second this is undyne. anyway, those days are gone and thank god for that. sans is inherently conflict avoidant, in a very similar way to papyrus. but most of all he's private: with his emotions, with his grief, with his backstory, with his trauma. sans faced with something devastating, or depressing or just plain hopeless doesn't beat his chest like a woman in some trashy romance novel. he shuts down. he leaves as soon as he can..

now, sometimes you're writing a story and you kinda NEED him to eat shit. or become emotional when confronted with something, or get him flustered cuz he's in love, or cry or get angry or snap, etc etc. for plot purposes! that's completely fine. not everything has to follow undertale's criteria. but, if you want to keep it feeling authentic, try to keep it mind that this condition is NOT standard for him. this is uncharted territory. it's the exception that confirms the rule, not the new average (think eggs husband joke in dr), and thus you're going to need to justify it in the face of the story. give him a reason to get to that point. build it up slowly and carefully. too much and you break the character. if you're doing a backstory for him, maybe before he was as cynical as he is today, you might have a bit more breathing room, but you're gonna have to work backwards to explain How He Got Here, both morally and personality-wise

this response is already colossally long so I'm gonna close it here. it's pretty late now in my country and I don't know if any of it is coherent, but i hope it helped you at least a little. night night!!

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024 #16, experiment

Read parts 1-11 on AO3 here

Part 12 only on tumblr so far

++++++

The Perfect Place - Part Thirteen

John put the skull back on its place on the mantelpiece and pointed at the dagger Sherlock had stuck into the wood to keep several letters in place. He frowned and gave Sherlock a disapproving look.

“You shouldn’t keep such a sharp dagger in the wood.” John chided.

Oh dear, here come the admonishments, Sherlock thought.

He braced himself against what John was likely about to say. “It’s dangerous to keep a sharp object here. People could get hurt.” Or “You’re destroying the wood, it’s difficult to repair damage like this.”

John continued. “It’s really bad for the blade, it’ll get dull, you know? Also, the tip might break and get stuck in the mantelpiece. It would be a shame to ruin such a fine dagger.”

“Erm, okay?” Sherlock stuttered, surprised, “Yes, will do.” Not what I expected.

When John peeked under the sofa, he pulled out the Turkish scimitar that Sherlock had already missed.

“Oh, great, you found it! I’ll be needing it tomorrow.” Sherlock called out happily.

“What for?” John brandished the scimitar and made some thrusts into Sherlock’s direction. “You going to waylay guileless travellers?”

“No, of course not.” Sherlock decided to test John’s sense of humour. “I’ll need it to chop the remains from the latest flatmate-candidate. He insulted Billy and therefore he had to die.”

John looked Sherlock straight into the face, utterly deadpan. “Good then that I didn’t. Also, you’d better use this letter-holding dagger for precision cuts through the corpse’s joints.”

They stared at each other for three long seconds before they exploded into raucous laughter.

For the next ten minutes, Sherlock watched John hopping excitedly around the sitting-room, ogling things, pawing bits and fondling bobs.

It was an amazing sight of utter joy.

Sherlock was reminded of a toddler experiencing their first Easter egg hunt in a magical wonderland. He suppressed the urge of handing a basket to John so that he could put the found treasures inside for later perusal.

(Others might have been reminded of a squirrel suffering from dementia, getting excited over and over again about finding the same nuts it had hidden juts several minutes ago, thinking they were new.)

(And yet others would have thought of a cuddly hedgehog searching for windfall like apples and pears to gain weight for the next winter.)

John commented on every mysterious, unusual, weird or quirky object that he picked up, showing it to Sherlock and silently asking for more information, data that Sherlock was more than happy to provide.

“Are you needing a cup of tea as bad as I?” John asked after a lot of talking, “I’m parched.”

(Also, his throat was terribly dry from all the dust he had inhaled while scrutinizing Sherlock’s things.)

“Let’s make some,” Sherlock offered, “and you could have a look at the kitchen.”

Sherlock put the kettle on while John first commented on the lovely choice of green tiles on the kitchen wall and then asked about the array of chemistry equipment on the kitchen table.

“I’m doing a lot of experiments here,” Sherlock explained, “to gather data and evaluate clues in order to solve the crimes that I consult on.”

(This was true, of course. Also, it sounded much better than the whole truth. Namely, that Sherlock followed mostly some whims he had when he was bored and just experimented with whatever was available to him. He had produced mountains of laboratory journals with millions of spreadsheets of data that nobody would ever use. Like one of his latest obsessions when he had tested the durability of mummified Guinea pig embryos after being exposed to various kinds of acids and then thrown against a bed of nails.)

“What is it you’re currently experimenting on?”

“I’m measuring the coagulation of saliva after death.” Sherlock replied and poured the hot water over a teabag.

“Interesting.” John said. “I’ll get us some milk.” He reached for the handle of the fridge.

Sherlock suddenly remembered where the saliva had come from and an electric shock of terror struck him.

“No, don’t open…” he began to shout.

But it was already too late.

“… the fridge.” Sherlock whispered.

John’s shriek reverberated in the deadly silence that followed.

+++++

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear  @raina-at

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hello!! Recently found your page and when i tell you i binge read almost all of your lookism content i mean it.

That being said i would love to ask if you could do a scenario where y/n and Goo hate each other but fake date in order to make Gun jealous and of course annoyed (in Goo’s case), however in the end they both fall for each other.

Aww!! THANK YOU FOR READING!! Isn't this community great. Isn't Lookism great.

I LOVE fake date fics! Slight deviation to just trying to prove Gun wrong (the plot is thin, okay).

Goo Kim x Reader: Fake Dating

"Get your hands off me!"

"It's called acting, you bitch!"

"Dumb bastard!"

"Stupid hag!"

"Four eyed fuck!"

"Shit for brains!"

A door slams shut. You and Goo freeze for a brief moment before throwing yourselves at each other. Your lips smash painfully together, and hands wander. It's for authenticity, you see.

(And it works.)

Gun stops in his tracks, "What the fuck?"

.

.

You had been chit-chatting as you usually do during one of the lulls in your missions with Gun.

"-and winter weddings are sorta magical, y'know? I like the idea of getting married and having snow falling all around me. But summer with the weather, I-"

Gun has had enough of your mundane chatter. "How the hell do you find the stupidest shit to talk about. You can't even get anyone to date you."

You throw a punch at him, "We dated!"

He dodges your attack, "And we broke up."

"Fuck you, loads of people want to date me!"

Gun peers over his sunglasses at you, he knows you are bullshitting.

Ugh. You'll show this asshole.

.

.

"Hey, you big lump," you kick Goo's chair. Oops maybe a bit too hard. You cackle as he tumbles into a heap on the floor.

"AHH! What was that for, you dumb bitch!" Goo gives you the filthiest look.

(On paper you and him should get on like a house on fire. But the first time you met, he had opened his mouth and asked who brought along this pretty little bimbo. You tried to rip out his tongue for that. Well, the rest is history.)

"So..." You eye up the blonde dusting himself off and readjusting his glasses. Is this one of your worst ideas? Probably. "Wanna piss off Gun with me?"

"I don't need you to do that."

"But what if we can take it to new realms of irritation?"

"..."

"I'll pay you."

"Why didn't you say so, Princess! I'm all ears."

Goo had always thought you were a little weird. As if this doesn't prove his point exactly.

Whatever.

He's making money and irritating Gun. Two of his favourite things. Add in beating someone up in there, and it's his holy trinity.

Hmm, maybe he could beat you up after this. That would be fun. He gives you a sly glance as you're explaining the 'fake dating' and what it entails.

Seriously, what an oddball.

.

.

After Gun discovers you two all over each other, he turns around and swiftly exits.

He did not care for getting involved in your love life. That ship had long sailed.

The only concerns are with his own sanity.

Having you and Goo together is a dangerously irritating, annoying combination. It doesn't just increase his chance of getting a headache and into trouble two-fold, it increases it exponentially.

...And the fake dating begins.

.

.

"Sweetheart, this song reminds me of you!" Goo gives a mocking smile that only you could see.

Gun is sitting in the back while Goo drives and you occupy the passenger's seat. That's fine as far as Gun is concerned. The further he is away from the both of you while you have this little... thing going on the better.

He honestly could not care less. But even listening to you two flirting is like nails on a chalkboard. The headache is returning. He should really invest in some headphones.

"Aww~ You are so sweet!"

You run your hands along Goo's thigh then brutally dig your nails in as you pinch him. This fuck. Did he think you couldn't hear the lyrics? The woman in this song is a useless doormat.

Goo blows you a kiss in return.

.

.

"Cupcake!" Goo matches pace with you and goes to hold your hand. You hear Gun's unhappy grumblings from behind. "There's a new hot restaurant that opened up. We should go on a date!"

"I would love that," That really would be thoughtful if you guys were an actual couple.

"We can have a nice night out and walk along the Han river."

"Perfect."

Goo's grip on your hand tightens, he looks deviously at you. Oh no. You prepare yourself for whatever comes out of his mouth next.

"And afterwards we can go back to mine for dessert? You know what I mean? By dessert? That's how everyone phrases it right? To mean we will just fuck all night? With my big, huge, throbbing-"

You hear a stumble and cursing from Gun. You look at Goo and feel him mentally high five-ing you.

Heh. That'll teach Gun for being such a dick. This isn't such a terrible idea after all.

.

.

"Sweetheart! Don't I look handsome!"

Gun questioned his life choices.

You and Goo had insisted on running into a designer store for something quick. 'Something quick' had turned into an hour of Goo parading around in suits. And now Gun is waiting sullenly in the corner for you both to finish up whatever the fuck you are doing.

"Hurry the fuck up,"

"Gun, you sourpuss! It's for the HNH function tonight. Goo needs to look his best."

Goo definitely did look good, you'll give him that. The blonde has a great body and a keen eye for fashion.

"Honeybun?" you turn your attention towards your 'boyfriend' as he strides out the fitting room. The suit looks like it was tailored especially for him.

Oh. Has he always been this handsome? You start to think maybe he isn't so bad until-

"You said you'll treat me for showing you a good time last night?"

You must be a better actor than you thought. Your mouth doesn't drop open at his boldfaced lie and your face remains neutral.

This prick. No doubt he's going to rack up an absurd bill and make you pay.

"Let's have a closer look then," you walk over to him, playing the part of a sweet girlfriend. Your hand smooths out the lapel and shirt.

"Silly, your tie is all askew," you adjust the knot and tighten it until it almost chokes this idiot.

Goo doesn't say a word, just looks down at you with a smirk. You feel the urge to wipe it off.

"I do like this one," you say. Your hand reaches out to caress his face. He stills at your unusually tender touch, his next backhanded comment gets stuck in his throat.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

As if on autopilot, Goo's arms moves to circles your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. Something about the way you fit with him feels natural.

You nip at his lower lip. Hmm, Goo really is a good kisser.

Gun closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. You two are getting on his fucking nerves. He really shouldn't kick your asses here. He takes a deep breath and counts to ten.

Scratch that, maybe one hundred.

.

.

Goo, with his arm around your shoulder, eyes your Uno cards.

He had already won a couple rounds ago, and now you and Gun are determining who between you is the loser.

"No cutie-pie, don't put the green one down. Gun will +2 you!"

"Don't help her out!" Gun growls at you both sitting across from him. He gets awfully testy even with silly games.

You hum and haw at whether to trust Goo as he studies your hand, trying to come up with a strategy.

"Put this one down," he ignores Gun and points at a particular card, "cross my heart babe!"

Fine. You follow his instructions.

Gun huffs and picks up a card from the pile. Guess he couldn't follow your colour or number.

Goo taps twice on his cheek. You giggle and reward him with a loud smooch.

.

.

"Like this,"

Goo comes up behind you, pressing himself fully into your back and helping you adjust the grip on the golf club.

You subtly elbow him.

"Watch it," you whisper.

"You're paying for my boyfriend services," he responds under his breath, a grin never leaving his face.

Your voice returns to its normal volume, "I thought I was doing it right?"

"Nooo Princess, your swing is all off!"

He rests his head on your shoulder, actually telling you about where your hands should be and correcting your stance.

If you were a weaker woman, you would be feeling butterflies, and your face would flush. You would think about how sweet Goo could be, and how fun he is in a relationship...

You see Gun from the corner of eye and quickly derail any straying thoughts. Instead, you turn and lightly graze your lips on Goo's cheek and shuffle your hips into his crotch playfully.

Goo, delighted at your movement, chuckles.

Off to the side, Gun facepalms.

.

.

You open your mouth obediently as Goo spoonfeeds you.

"Isn't it extra delicious when your Goo-bear is feeding you?" He flutters his eyelashes. God, this guy is so ridiculous you couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you have to fucking do that? I'm trying to eat here." Gun glares at the display.

"Don't be jealous just because you'll never know love like this!" Goo snaps before feeding you another mouthful.

Gun rolls his eyes. Why does Charles curse him with the most idiotic partners.

"Yeah I'll just pay for mine and the wifey's food," Goo smiles at the waitress, handing over some cash.

"Just pay for it all you cheap asshole!" Gun is exasperated. It's a goddamn hole-in-the-wall, not some fine dining establishment. The total is pocket change.

"Nope!"

"You fucking-"

The waitress clears her throat awkwardly.

"Pay for it yourself, you prick," Goo retorts as he nuzzles into your neck.

Gun angrily slams down some money.

.

.

"What's this?"

So much for doing work. Goo loudly makes an entrance into your office and wafts a piece of paper in front of your face. You snatch it irritably.

"My invoice!"

What? This wasn't the duration that was agreed.

You narrow your eyes at him, "But we're not done yet!"

"No, we're not."

"So?"

"So I thought I'll give you a 100% discount for the foreseeable, sweetheart."

Your eyebrows knit together. Does this mean what you think it means?

Goo is a picture of nonchalance, he perches on your desk as he examines his nails.

"You mean you actually want to...?"

"I'm having a good time. You look like you are too."

Hmm, you couldn't deny it. And you never thought kissing him could be so pleasant.

"So we're really...?"

Goo gives you a smile and a casual shrug. "If you want to, Princess."

How does nothing ruffle his feathers. How can he be so relaxed about this?

You mull it over. What's the worst that could happen? The last few weeks have been undeniably fun. You don't think you had ever laughed so much.

You school your expression and give him a nod.

Goo's easy smile turns into a toothy grin. He pulls you close and kisses you, like all the times he had before. But this one feels sweeter. Real.

Goo fucking Kim is actually your boyfriend. Who would have thought?

When you finally pull away, you both stay within touching distance, beaming at each other like morons.

"Bastard."

"Bimbo."

Goo suddenly frowns, and the magic breaks. "This doesn't change anything. You still need to pay the bill!"

[ace-reviews]

WINTER 2024 ANIME RECOMMENDATIONS

I counted and there are 8.5 blonde ladies in either a lead or primary love interest role this season (8 if you count the one whose hair is sometimes black as half of one). Do what you will with this information. I only share it because it’s something that was ticking me off that I noticed.

Anyway, we’re trying out a new format this season: Instead of only recommending anime we’re not familiar with, we’re each picking one we are familiar with and one we went into completely blind.

ACE’S RECOMMENDATION #1: MR. VILLAIN’S DAY OFF

After the deluge of isekai that try to teach the importance of having a healthy work-life balance by having the lack of one kill off it’s main character in the first five minutes of the episode, it’s really nice to have something that teaches the same lesson by choosing to model what one looks like rather than killing anybody. It’s also got a lot of pandas in it, which is always nice.

ACE’S RECOMMENDATION #2: SENGOKU YOUKO

Satoshi Mizukami seemingly can’t catch a break with anime adaptations of his manga: Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer sucked and this one is being seriously overshadowed by all the other really good and/or long-looked-forward-to adaptations this season. (Planet With was an anime first so it escaped the curse.)

Anyway, please watch this and have your friends watch this and buy the Blu–Rays and have your friends buy the Blu-Rays so my dream of a (good!!!) Spirit Circle anime can someday come true.

---

CHARLIE’S RECOMMENDATION #1: SOLO LEVELING

(for the sake of our more sensitive readers, actual screenshots of the anime cannot be shown at this time)

If you like Cheat System anime, and don’t mind “a bit” of graphic violence (read: so much. There’s just so much violence.) , give this a shot. It’s based on one of the Korean manhua that made the genre what it is today, and as far as I’m concerned, they’ve done a good job being faithful to their source so far - they didn’t even give them Japanese names, you guys.

CHARLIE’S RECOMMENDATION #2: A SIGN OF AFFECTION

(adorable)

It’s cute, and disability rep is always a bonus. I like how they animated the sign language, which seems fairly realistic to me, someone who speaks no sign languages.

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FEN’S RECOMMENDATION #1: LOOKING UP TO MAGICAL GIRLS

This is a series I’ve been following since there were only five chapters out in the manga, so I would like to preface this recommendation by saying I’m the only one who’s actually right about it. I’m a veteran, a true soul who’s stuck with it for the past x years since it first released, and as such everything I say about it is valid and correct and anything people who aren’t as familiar with it says is complete horseshit pulled out of their ass. This is a factual statement.

Mahou Shoujo ni Akogarete, which has been translated for the manga as “Looking up to Magical Girls” (correct) and by vile HIDIVE as “Gushing Over Magical Girls” (bad and wrong) is a trashy, over-indulgent yuri series for weird perverts that is good, actually, (genuinely), and if the adaptation manages to capture Onanaka Akihiko’s remarkably deft hand in weaving the series’ fetish gags with the story’s genuine moments of pathos and surprising character depth then the anime will also be good, actually.

Dude trust me.

FEN’S RECOMMENDATION #2: METALLIC ROUGE

This is an anime original series about super fighting robots on Mars doing a hitman shit on android rebels for the government and also yuri, maybe. ACAB includes Rouge Redstar, watch this show.

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BONUS RECOMMENDATIONS: DUNGEON MESHI AND ‘TIS TIME FOR “TORTURE,” PRINCESS

A recommendation to watch Dungeon Meshi is the most redundant thing on the planet this season, but even so you should still watch Dungeon Meshi. Also, Fen and I had a bit of a back-and-forth over who would recommend Torture Princess since it was something she was familiar with and something I had only heard of and I wasn’t going to recommend it because I thought she would and she apparently chose not to recommend it because she thought I was going to so take it as a recommendation both from someone who is and someone who isn’t familiar with Torture Princess to watch Torture Princess.

[xihe1874]

Hello everyone!!! I know it's been quite a while (who am I kidding it's been a year or so). But here I am, posting stupid nothing about these stupid lover boys again.

This is a Harry Potter crossover, but you don't have to have read Harry Potter to understand this.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you like this, please let me know as this author lives for comments and likes <3

Wish you all the best <3

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Relationship: Iceman/Maverick

Tags: Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining, Angst, but just a little bit, because they are both idiots, Idiots in love, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Mildly Dubious Consent, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Alternative Universe - Magic, Love Potion/Spell, Truth Serum, Actually the tags are spoil alerts, Not actually unrequited love, Requited love, First kiss, Falling in love

Word count: 3534

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"Goose, you sure it's the real thing? Why does it look so weird?"

Pete shook the vial and regarded the liquid in it with a suspicious face. Even if it was just a prank, he — the youngest Seeker Gryffindor had ever seen in history who had terrified so many enemies both on the oval pitch and in love — needed to ensure that it was the best prank of this century. Using some fake stuff? Totally unacceptable.

"Of course." Nick nodded, holding a book as thick as a brick. "Absolutely. Transparent, colorless, bubbling. Exactly the same as written in the book. Besides, it was from Carole's third aunt's second cousin who has connections in the Knockturn Alley. So if you doubt this potion, you will be doubting Carole."

There seemed to be something wrong with the logic. But Pete was not gonna argue with his best friend.

"But I thought it would be a bit… fancier? Like, I don't know, pink? After all, it's…"

"Love Potion, I know. But love is just like this, Mav." Nick sighed sagely. "When love approaches, there is not necessarily any obvious sign. You won't be noticing anything. But when it strikes, it's arresting, overwhelming. Like the peace before a storm."

Pete couldn't help but howl with laughter. He shook his head, massaging the aching stomach. "Such a poet, huh, Goose? How many Carole's Muggle fics have you read?"

With great amusement, he watched a blush climb its way into Nick's cheeks, and the taller wizard began to stammer out a feeble denial. 

"All right, all right. Like you could have me fooled by that. But it's not bad, considering that we will add it to water. Less likely for them to notice."

Nick was visibly relieved. He put the book down and summoned the cup they prepared.

"Carole told me that the Love Potion is custom-made, and it will not push whoever drinks this to fall in love with us. Rather, it will let them love a random somebody. The effect lasts for one day."

Pete smirked with mischief. "What a pity. I'd rather be loved by some dumbass Prefect, and then dump them. Must be delicious."

Something unreadable flickered across Nick's face. He opened his mouth, then decided against it. Just as Pete was about to ask whether his friend was hiding something from him, Nick took the vial from his hand and opened the cork.

Instinctively, Pete inhaled.

A strange feeling spread from the tip of his nose, like a long winter that was finally clearing up, with warm sunlight gradually seeping into his blood. He felt his heartbeat suddenly quicken as if it were trying to break free from its restraints and reveal all the secrets he had hidden away. Pete felt like he was dreaming. He wanted to wake up but knew he would rather give up everything—except Quidditch, maybe—than let this dream end.

He felt both excited and scared.

The air was filled with... the unique pine fragrance of a brand-new Firebolt, the sweetness of chocolate cookies, and another scent, not overpowering, but it instantly captured all of Pete's attention.

Mint.

It was a faint minty smell similar to a Muggle snack called chewing gum.

He knew this snack because there was someone who loved it. The said person was always chewing it, a habit that could be annoying, but the minty scent around him was actually pleasant. So every time Pete saw him, he couldn't help but lean closer—though most of the time it was to tease and counter-tease. Each time he passed by him on the Quidditch pitch, catching a glimpse of the other's sweaty blonde hair and rosy cheeks from the corner of his eye, Pete couldn't help but close his eyes and take a deep breath, unable to resist imagining whether the man's kiss would also be...

"What did you smell, Mav?"

Pete was snapped back to reality.

"Uh, well…" His voice was a bit hoarse. "Just, Firebolt."

Nick frowned at him with disbelief written all over his face. Pete knew his own face must be flushed, but he stubbornly stared at his friend, refusing to back down.

Fortunately, Nick was just as clueless about the Patronus charm as Pete was. Otherwise, he would discover Pete's extremely awkward crush.

A crush on the biggest rival of Gryffindor in Quidditch.

A crush on the Ravenclaw prefect, the Quidditch captain, and the Straight-A student—someone who should have been Pete's sworn enemy.

The crush on Tom Kazansky. 

Pete cleared his throat, grabbed the potion, and added two drops to the cup in front of him, trying very hard not to let his hands shake too noticeably. "We need to hurry, Goose, only a few minutes left."

That was true, though. Only five minutes later, the Prefect's meeting would start, as the time announced on the bulletin board, and they still had to sneak back to the secret room behind their dormitory.

Nick shrugged and let it pass. But Pete knew he would eventually ask about the love potion again.

He'd deal with it later, Pete thought. 

That was his life motto anyway.

Five minutes later, Pete stood in the empty common room, starting to doubt his entire life.

"Where is everyone?"

Nick shook his head, indicating he didn't know either.

"Then what was the point of all this preparation?"

"Preparation for what, Maverick?"

Great. Just fantastic. It seemed that fate had decided to make things harder for him, as Kazansky chose this moment to walk into the common room.

Pete cursed under his breath and slowly turned around.

Fuck. He shouldn't have done that.

Kazansky had just finished a round of Quidditch practice, it seemed, as he was still in his sweaty suit that clung to him. A few beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, sliding down beside his perfect lips and along his perfect cheek. His face was slightly flushed, probably from the exercise, and his breathing was a bit heavy.

Pete had to clench his fists to prevent himself from doing something stupid (like reaching out to touch Kazansky's hair, as he had been wondering if it was soft).

Kazansky took a step closer, tilting his head. The mint scent surrounding him made Pete a bit dizzy.

"What the heck are you up to this time?" he asked, leaning in further, fixing his gaze on Pete.

Pete would retort back, he really would, but that would have to wait until something meaningful solidified in his brain. For now, he could only stare into those icy blue eyes, desperately praying that his gaze wouldn't drift down to Kazansky's lips (or that he wouldn't be caught if it did).

The suspicious and slightly annoyed prefect mode somehow made Kazansky look even more attractive, which was unreasonable.

"We… got you some water!"

Both of them jumped at Nick's cheerful voice. Pete turned to see Nick holding up a cup of water.

Holding up that cup of water.

No.

He was about to speak when Kazansky interjected, "I don't believe that you guys would be so kind…"

Pete nodded vigorously toward Kazansky, at the same time trying to signal to Nick with his eyes that they were not gonna do this.

"Yes, that's right. Don't trust it, Iceman."

He wasn't ready to face Kazansky, who had taken the love potion and fallen in love with a stranger, even if it was just for a day, even if it was all fake. Whenever he tried to imagine Kazansky tenderly looking at someone who had a blurred face, smiling at that person, slender fingers holding the other's wrist, then slowly, slowly moving closer, gently giving the other a mint-flavored kiss, Pete felt his heart tightened suddenly as if he had just eaten the most bitter Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean.

"...But seeing you agreeing with my point of view makes me doubt again."

DAMN.

"It seems like your plan is to not let me drink this cup of water."

It's not. Not at all.

"Then I'm definitely going to drink it."

Seriously, how did Kazansky get into Ravenclaw with this only brain cell?

In slow motion, Pete watched Kazansky reaching for the cup.

He quickly raised his wand, intending to knock Kazansky unconscious, but the other easily deflected his attack, swiftly dodging to the side.

"Really, Maverick, Stupefy? Just for this glass of water?"

After speaking, Kazansky raised the glass and drank it in one gulp.

Pete stood dumbfounded, unable to speak or move. Kazansky licked his lips with his tongue, and put down the empty cup.

"Sweet, tastes like butterbeer. Wait, now it's kind of... like... like..."

Kazansky furrowed his brow, his gaze searching the room, then settling on Pete. Pete watched as the clarity in those blue eyes gradually faded, replaced by a strange, dazed determination.

"Pete."

Kazansky pronounced his name softly, as if it's a prayer, as if in murmured whispers, as if this name meant more to him than the whole world, as if this name was the only thing he wanted, as if...

As if it belonged to his lover.

No.

No!

Nonononono.

Pete took a step back, then another. He turned towards the wall to escape, but Kazansky strode over, grabbing his wrist with a searing warmth that clutched his pulse.

"Pete, don't go, I have something to say..."

"I don't wanna hear it."

"You... you don't want to hear it?..."

Pete froze, even though the blonde had already let go of him.

Kazansky sounded... soft. Cautious. Quite unsure.

Very sad.

Pete squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He knew he would regret this, but he didn't want to hurt Kazansky, even if it meant his own heart would shatter into a million pieces.

And this might be his only chance to feel what it's like to be loved by Kazansky, said the part of Pete's heart that was accustomed to self-deprecation.

He took a deep breath and turned around.

—And then forgot how to breathe.

While he was steeling himself for the inevitable, Kazansky had moved a few steps closer, trapping Pete between his strong body and the wall. Now there was only a breath's distance between them. Pete could feel the hot breath of the other brushing his cheek, making him shudder involuntarily. He had to lift his head to gaze into the eyes that had occupied countless of his dreams, eyes that were now looking back at him with endless affection.

Kazansky leaned down, his lips close to his ear.

"I remember you said you didn't want to hear it?"

Pete bit his lower lip to keep himself from making any embarrassing sound.

"So, you want to hear it now?"

Their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Pete felt the other's warmth, the scent of mint around them so heady that it clouded his thoughts.

He nodded.

Kazansky looked into his eyes and grinned broadly.

This was the first time Pete had seen him like this. Kazansky radiated pure joy, flashing his white teeth at him. There were small lines at the corners of his eyes, his nose slightly wrinkled, as if nothing would make him happier than Pete willing to hear him speak.

"I love you, Pete Mitchell. I love you so much."

Pete felt his eyes stinging with tears, but he fought to keep them open.

Tom was confessing his feelings to him. He couldn't cry.

Even if it was all fake.

"Really?"

"Really. I have been in love with you for so long. Ever since I saw you fly for the first time. No, ever since I saw you. I noticed you, Pete, you must have forgotten. But I noticed you in your sorting ceremony in the first grade. You were queuing up for your sorting, and I looked up and our eyes met. I was completely stunned at that moment. All I could think was that I had never seen such beautiful green eyes."

Pete hadn't forgotten.

During the sorting ceremony, he felt like others were all rumoring about him, so he was a bit lonely and scared. But he stood tall, chin up, putting on a brave look. Then, a blonde boy sitting at the adjacent table looked up, his clear blue eyes earnestly observing him. Somehow, Pete felt more at ease, walked with his head held high to the front chair, sat down, and then walked to the Gryffindor table, where he saw Nick smiling kindly.

"You were sorted into Gryffindor, I was a bit disappointed—though later, after getting to know you, I found out you were indeed not a Ravenclaw—but you made it into the Quidditch team. You know, every time I saw you on the Quidditch pitch, I couldn't help but stare at you. Pete, I just couldn’t focus. You flew like a maniac, but you're always laughing, tilting your head back to let the wind blow through your robes, always risking yourself to help your teammates out of trouble—although, to be honest, most of the trouble was caused by you. I've been secretly watching you all the time, and it's a miracle I haven't been knocked out by a Bludger yet."

It's unbelievable, Pete thought, that Kazansky hadn't noticed him staring back.

Oh. Then he remembered. It's just the Love Potion speaking. How could Tom really love him?

"Do you remember when Nick got injured last year? When I saw you then, I just wanted to reach out and hold you, tightly and never let go, to let you know that everything would be okay, to tell you I'd always be here, whether you wanted me or not."

He wanted. He wanted so fucking badly that it almost hurt.

"Can I..." Kazansky lowered his gaze to Pete's lips, then back to his eyes, "Can I kiss you, Pete? I've wanted to kiss you for so long, and that’s all I could think about sometimes."

Nodding was too easy. He didn't even need to say anything, just tilting his head slightly, and he would be meeting Kazansky's lips, to know if his kiss truly tasted of mint.

Everything he wanted was right in front of him.

The only problem was, it was all fake.

Tom's love was fake, Tom wanting to kiss him was fake, Tom's gentle gaze was fake, everything Tom said was fake, all because of that stupid Love Potion.

He could kiss Tom, but after today, the Love Potion would wear off, and he would return to a life without Tom, the only difference being that now he knew the feeling of the other's lips on his own. But he could never have them again.

This was your life, his inner voice began to mock him, always sabotaging yourself, always fantasizing about things you could never have, ending up with an empty heart trying to grasp ephemeral love.

"I want to kiss you, I love you, Pete, I..."

"Enough."

Pete blinked, ignoring the tear that fell at last.

"Enough, Tom. I'm sorry, but I can't let this go on any longer."

He raised his wand, hesitated for a moment, then raised his left hand to touch Tom's cheek. Tom turned his face into his palm, his gaze shifting to the wand.

"Although you won't remember..." Pete hated the tremble and choke in his own voice, "but I love you, Tom Kazansky."

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Pete didn't give him the chance.

"Finite Incantatem," he whispered.

Magic flowed from his fingertips, and Pete felt like a part of his soul had gone with it. He closed his eyes and only wanted to return to his room and sleep for three days after Kazansky left.

"...You love me?"

Pete opened his eyes sharply.

Kazansky hadn't left. He was frozen all over, unmoving as if turned into ice (excuse the pun). He looked at Pete, his face transitioning from disbelief to surprise, then ecstatic joy, then to cautious hope.

"You love me?"

What's wrong? Pete racked his brain, trying to recall the spell he had just cast. It should've worked, thinking of the Love Potion, pointing at the target, casting the spell, it should've broken the charm—though honestly, he spent most of his time in Charms class stealing glances at Kazansky instead of listening to the Professor.

He raised his wand again.

"...Finite Incantatem?"

Kazansky was still there, squinting his eyes at him.

"Alright, it is quite dubious now... Have you been under Imperio, Maverick? That could explain you saying you love me..."

"What? No, I haven't!!"

"He hasn't, I can prove that. It's you."

Pete was startled by Nick's voice. He had completely forgotten his best friend was still in the room. Kazansky took a step back. Pete turned to look, and Nick's face was a mix of awkwardness and amusement.

"I've been under Imperio?"

"No, no. More precisely..." — Pete closed his eyes, preparing for the impending embarrassment and heartbreak — "You've been under Veritaserum."

"What?"

"What??"

"The truth serum, the strongest kind, a precious baby." Nick held up the vial in his hand.

"But weren't we supposed to use Love Potion, Goose? How did it turn into Veritaserum? You clearly told me..."

"Where did you get the Veritaserum? This violates Educational Decree number thirty-five, I should hold you in..."

"...Carole's third aunt's second cousin has connections in Knockturn Alley? Wait, so you're saying this idiot here just..."

"...detention. Wait, Nick, he mentioned Love Potion? You were planning to give me a Love Potion? And this idiot here..."

"...drank Veritaserum? But he clearly said..."

"...did he also drink it? Because he just said..."

"...he loves me."

They said in unison.

Pete felt like all his thoughts had become a tangled mess in his mind. His breathing hadn't calmed down yet, and he could only stare at Nick in front of him, watching him raise his wand and point it at Kazansky, reciting the antidote spell for the truth serum.

Kazansky took in a sharp breath beside him.

"Although I didn't understand most of what was said earlier because you two morons were too loud, I heard the last sentence. Yes, you both said it. Now, I'm leaving this room. Firstly, because that will definitely be the most embarrassing memory of my life, even if I include the time I accidentally rode my broomstick into the Whomping Willow when dating Carole. Secondly, because I have some tasks to report." Nick gestured towards the door, "So… Enjoy yourselves. Don't ever tell me what happens."

"Report?" Kazansky asked, deliberately avoiding looking at Pete.

"Chipper and Sundown posted the meeting notice. Wolf and Wood got the special truth serum, Slider was mainly responsible for letting you know Mav is here."

"You..."

"We couldn't take it anymore, bud. If you two don't bone each other for one more second, we will all go crazy."

"So Carole wasn't involved after all?"

"Carole's suggestion was to snatch your wands and lock you both in the broom closet, but I thought that was too violent."

Nick winked at them and left the room.

In the silence, Pete felt his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He stood stiffly, his gaze fixed on the ground, feeling like his knees were about to give way any second.

He didn't know how to make sense of what had just happened. Should he pretend nothing happened and flee the room, taking advantage of Kazansky's distraction...

"Maverick."

Well.

The blonde hesitated, reached out a hand, and clasped his wrist. His pulse throbbed against Kazansky's palm, like a kind of declaration.

"Pete, I..."

"Do you really love me?"

"You are asking the floor?"

Pete raised his head, meeting Kazansky's gaze. His eyes had always been sharp, but now that light was soft with his long eyelashes slightly lowered. Like Pete was the most precious treasure in the world and he didn't know how to express how much he loved the person in front of him.

Pete knew this feeling so well.

"Yes, I love you, Maverick, Pete Mitchell."

"You think I can't get into Ravenclaw?"

Kazansky—no, Tom—rolled his eyes, furrowing his brow in feigned anger, but the curve of his lips gave him away.

"After all those heartfelt words I said, that's what you remember?"

Pete shrugged and tiptoed closer until their breaths mingled.

"I just want to make sure you remember what you said."

"Do you remember, then?" Tom tilted his head, brushing Pete's cheek with the tip of his nose.

"Remember what?"

"If you play dumb, I will leave now."

"Don't! Don't," Pete laughed, reaching out to wrap his arms around Tom's neck, "I remember. I love you."

"You didn't drink any love potion?"

"Seriously? Tom, you are my love potion."

Seeing Tom's expression like he had just eaten a whole lemon, Pete grimaced too.

"Sorry, cliché. But..." He pulled Tom closer. "...you like it?"

Pete tried to make it sound like a confident tease, but some insecurity seeped in and it ended with a slightly trembling question mark. Tom probably sensed it, because he reached out to embrace Pete's waist, leaning down to press his lips against Pete.

Pete closed his eyes.

"I love it."

Mint. he thought dimly. Soft, sweet, perfect minty taste that was exclusively his.

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles part III bonus: the eclipse

(~2,8 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

Every couple of years, there’s a total eclipse in this world. The moon is big, obscuring the sun in a horrible totality, entrapping it for what feels like too long. This is a big event, but not because people are eager to spectate the sky and bask in its weirdness. No, it has much worse connotations.

Because the eclipsed moon affects many of the hybrids. Especially the animal ones.

Hunters look forward to the eclipse because it promises a lot of loud, distressed, instinct-driven hybrids scattering about without many defences. They prepare traps specifically for this occasion and organise big hunting parties, eager for the upcoming bloodbath and bounty.

The eclipse happens mid-winter while Scar and Grian are on the server.

And it’s awful.

[cws violence, murder (no known characters), panic, mind-altering states and a loss of self control, haywire instincts, non-consensual manhandling, horrory vibes]

They don’t really know what is happening at first. Hermitcraft is a safe server which has many things coded differently, and because eclipses hurt many hybrids, they never happen there. So Scar and Grian have never experienced anything like this, and the yank it has on Grian’s state in particular is startingly sharp and terrifyingly confusing.

Scar himself is alright, because—and the two of them don’t know this at the time—vexes are immune to the eclipse. 

Actually, that’s not quite accurate. The eclipse helps heighten their magic.

They thrive.

Grian does anything but thrive.

His instincts go absolutely batshit haywire. He starts getting disoriented and incredibly uneasy, anxiety holding him in a choke hold, and all rationality and caution leave him, replaced by pure fear. 

He starts making inadvertent chirping sounds, panicked, and no matter what Scar says or does, Grian can’t seem to stop.

It’s so dark outside. And Grian’s chirping isn’t the only one that sounds through the forest.

In a world where they thought avians might be all nearly hunted to extinction, there are now suddenly, in this darkness, piercing faraway chirps. Just as panicked and lost-sounding as Grian’s own.

But those are not the only sounds the looming forest has to offer.

There’s also hollering and cheers. Whistles and barks. Twigs snapping under careless boots. Hunter parties following every single hybrid noise right to its source only to slice it shut. Shrill, chilling screams before some hybrid inevitably plunges into absolute, horrifying silence.

Scar’s desperately trying to get Grian to shush. He pleads him to stop, to be quiet. Tries to calm him down.

But it’s all futile. Grian has no control over himself. He can’t make it stop; it’s a wholly new kind of fear, overpowering and unfamiliar, yanking at his instincts. (It feels, a little bit, like a huge moon crashing down while the ground underneath him shakes and disintegrates.) (It feels like locking eyes with someone and not being sure if he’ll ever get to see them again.) (It feels like apocalypse. Like the end.) (His mind screams at him and he can’t help but scream along with it.)

Scar wonders if he should put a hand over Grian’s mouth. He doesn’t know what to do, but the hunters are out there, in large numbers, tireless and eager, and Grian’s voice is now the beacon luring them over, pinging with their exact location.

Grian is slowly backing away, hunched, feathers puffed. His wings are semi-curled around him, no longer tucked under the cloak, even though they’re out in the open. 

He doesn’t seem like he’d do well with being touched.

But Scar needs him to be quiet. For Grian’s sake too.

Before Scar can do anything, though, Grian’s earwings flit wildly and he whips his head to the side, honing in on some noise.

It’s a distressed chirp, one that sounds closer than any of the other ones. 

It’s an avian in distress calling for help.

Grian thought there aren’t any avians but him, and now there is one, still alive, so very close, desperate for aid, and— Grian’s mind blanks. There’s only one single thing to do here. He isn’t thinking. His heart beats wildly in overdrive. His body moves.

Blindly, Grian bolts in the direction of the sound. 

And it’s up to Scar to scramble and run after him. 

It’s more than that. More than just following Grian. Because there is so much at stake, and he needs to stop him and quiet him and— And he might have to exert force, and—

Oh. He is basically hunting Grian down here.

He is the hunter following in the steps of a terrified avian.

And Grian, in his dazed and fragmented perception of the world, feels just like prey. There is so much happening for him right now: it’s dark and all he can see is Scar’s piercing vex eyes when he glances over his shoulder; he’s lost in panicky instincts, trying to reach another avian in distress, hurtling blindly towards potential danger; and he does feel hunted.

On top of that, he can’t stop the stream of bird noises. He can’t pull his wings under his cloak either. He’s stumbling and tripping and scaping himself all over, but he feels like he needs to keep running.

He no longer knows if he’s even heading the right way. The chirping he was following fell dead silent. His head is just screaming at him. Hot white panic and a cacophony of unstoppable, overpowering instincts.

Scar has to stop him before he gets himself killed.

As awful as it is, Scar doesn’t care about that other potential avian (it could be a trap) nearly as much as he cares about Grian. His priorities here are clear, desperation thick and loud in his lungs, pressing at his ribs. There’s no time for bargaining or for steeling himself. 

He needs to act.

Scar grabs Grian and tackles him to the ground.

He’s pinning him down, sort of straddling him, hands on Grian’s mouth, hopelessly trying to muffle the noises. He feels absolutely vile, but he doesn’t know what else to do. His breaths come in little sharp huffs of blue magic, shiny through the darkness as he expels a ton of emotional energy just to keep himself from panicking and crying.

He finds that it’s not as easy to hold Grian down when he doesn’t want to be pinned down. But also it is. It is easy, far too easy—harrowingly so. Grian’s so light. (It frightens Scar to even touch the thought of how simple this would be for the hunters too.) 

He’s terrified of hurting Grian accidentally. He’s very capable of it; Grian’s made of brittle hollow bones after all, and Scar’s grip is a bit too strong, but he doesn’t have a choice here. Grian won’t stop thrashing, fighting to be freed. (But Scar knows that letting go would almost surely result in Grian’s death.)

And where Grian’s attention is kind of selective, not processing things at all, Scar’s attention is sharp—sharpened by panic—keenly attuned to their surroundings. He hears all the various noises come and go. Not necessarily chirps; other hybrids, too. Them falling silent. The hunters yelling. And the screams. God. The awful screams.

They’re all too far away for now, thankfully, but if Grian won’t stop, they’re bound to come this way. After all, if Scar can hear them, surely they can hear Grian too—?

Scar feels nauseous and horribly helpless. The hunters cheer and laugh as the hybrid noises go dead silent, one by one— only the hounds left barking and howling in their wake.

Scar knows that, even though it’s awful, they can’t help any of those hybrids. But he’s going to do everything in his power so that at least the two of them can survive this.

Despite all his (pointless) efforts, the hunters catch up to them anyway.

As they approach, Scar is struggling to quiet Grian down, and Grian isn’t thinking straight enough to properly fight. It’s the worst possible situation. 

There’s no point in quieting Grian down anymore when the hunters are right here though, and so Scar moves on the defensive, ready to give it all to keep Grian alive. The fight is ugly, drenched in frightening desperation; Scar is numb to the pain even when something tears. Grian’s chirps get worse. Warmth drips down Scar’s face.

But then a different sort of howling breaks through Scar’s mounting panic, and—

A group of wild vexes rushes in. Not to save Scar and Grian in particular; it’s just a lucky timing.

Because as it turns out, just the way hunters set off to hunt down hybrids during the eclipse, the vexes—who are more powerful at this time, magic thrumming strongly in their veins—set off to hunt down the hunters. So nicely accumulated for them. So loud. So easy to find. 

The vexes and the humans clash, and in the swell of the chaos, Scar manages to drag Grian away. 

He wants to keep going, increase the distance between them and everyone else as much as possible, but all too soon the forest opens up into fields, and no way he’s pulling a dazed Grian out there where they can’t hide. So instead he swerves, anchoring them against a rock formation—an array of boulders and a jagged cliff wall. 

He presses Grian into a small dent there, covering him with his own body (imprisoning him there, in a way). Hiding Grian’s wings, muffling his chirps, whispering frantic things that are meant to be soothing. The sky is still dark, and Grian’s still chirping, although it’s quieter now; it’s clear he’s exhausting himself, but he’s still making noises. Still unable to stop, despite the terror and the fatigue.

They get found again.

But it’s not the human hunters that find them this time. It’s the vex group, sneaking up on them, all their sharp edges drenched in blood, glowing with magic.

Scar turns his back to Grian, still pressing against him, tucking him against the rocks, hiding him as much as possible. He’s ready to lash out. He’s ready to fight with these vexes, even if he’s outnumbered. (He’s got no species loyalty here, after all.) 

In a curious tone, one of the vexes says: ���That avian is going to get you killed.���

The words register to Grian through the haze. He’s still absolutely lost amidst this all, barely understanding the world around him, struggling to process anything. But there’s something about the words avian and get you killed, and the thought of Scar, that makes it through the fog.

It only serves to make him more distressed. He breathes in sharp, shallow breaths, and his chirping grows louder again, high pitched. But it’s not just the chirps this time. Some of the sounds he makes are choked, merging into something more like himself—the sound of helpless sobs.

Scar is shielding Grian with his back, but that means he’s turning his back on Grian’s cries and all of his misery. He cannot comfort him. He has no words that would make Grian not afraid right now.

The vex suggest leaving Grian or—worse—using him as a bait.

Scar’s staring them down, growling lowly, one eye squinted as blood runs down his face. “How about you leave.”

The vex don’t budge. They think they’re after a good thing here, after all. Surely, Scar also wants these hunters dead?

What they’re suggesting isn’t to sacrifice Grian as a bait—they don’t actually want to outright hurt or endanger him, even if it maybe doesn’t translate well through their stance and words. They’re not malicious in that way. What they’re suggesting is simply pragmatic in their minds. (I mean, they wouldn’t grieve if the avian happened to die there, but it wasn’t their goal to let it happen.) 

“We’re hunting the humans,” they note, as if that should’ve been enough to sway Scar. “We could use the avian—”

“No.”

One of the vex, white hair braided and smile sharp, peeks past Scar, trying to glimpse the feathers. The violet shade reflected in the glow of their magic tells him everything he needs to know, sating his curiosity, and he whistles, impressed. Amazed that an avian like this has lasted so long.

Scar lunges at him for getting too close.

He gets laughed at in return. What’s he gonna do, all alone? Not even channelling his magic to heal his own wound. It’s just funny to them. Cute. “What’re you going to do?” they tease, a bit too cheerily for the situation at hand. It rings threatening. “You’re outnumbered, pal.”

Scar doesn’t back down. “I’d take at least one of you down with me.” It’s a big statement. Covering up all of his nauseating fear and unending tension. Because he’ll do it. He’ll fight if he has to, and it will be ugly, and he might fail—he might die—but he’ll for sure give it everything he has.

And he can tell there’s camaraderie between this group of vexes. That they don’t really want any of them seriously hurt. 

They, as vexes, know the best how dangerous a feral, cornered vex with something to protect can be.

There’s a sliver of respect this earns Scar, unbeknownst to him. The will to stand up to them even when he’s outnumbered like this. To not give in to the pressure and instead fight for his values. For what he cares for.

The white haired vex—seemingly a leader of the group of sorts—reiterates, tone a bit lower, that the avian is going to get Scar killed. That he’d be better off without him. (Essentially voicing the deep rooted fear Grian already has.)

He also extends an invitation, almost in the same breath, impressed by Scar standing up to them. But it’s only Scar who is invited, and it’s blatant—the condition laid down is drop the avian or let’s use him as a bait and hunt together. 

With sharp ire and a swell of protectiveness, Scar counters that he’d be better off without them, actually.

There’s a snort and a mocking, “Aight, let’s see how long you can last.”

The relief Scar feels when they relent and leave is immense, leaving him weak in his knees.

He thinks they’re foolish, risking themselves like that. In his mind, they’re the definition of the violent vex, that dark reputation that seems to now stick to Scar and follow him too by the virtue of being the same kind of hybrid. He doesn’t want anything to do with that. 

And of course, he’d never leave Grian.

Grian is his last connection to home. He loves him, even if it never feels like it’s enough.

Excruciatingly slowly, sun eventually peeks back out. But even then, it takes Grian a very long time to untangle himself from these dazed, nonsensical instincts. It’s such a heavy, sticky veil and he’s left disoriented and confused for the longest time. Through his exhaustion, he feels weak and dizzy and out of it.

Scar is also exhausted, but they’re nowhere near safe yet. Still pressed against the rocks. Every nerve ending is flared up, Scar’s senses alert to the point of flinching at the subtlest sound, hypervigilant. But as Grian slumps and quiets down, Scar’s firm grip on him follows. 

Slowly, so slowly, Scar’s hold on Grian becomes comforting instead of restricting and terrifying.

He can tell that it left bruises.

Scar hates everything about it, but— They’re alive.

The sun is back, Grian is quiet, and they’re alive.

But they still need to find safety. And Grian’s so frazzled, still processing what even happened. The blurred memories of chirps and howls and screams swirl through his mind. He feels lightheaded, and like his skull is stuffed full, unable to think clearly. He doesn’t quite understand any of it, and his body feels locked in place. 

Grian wants to stay sitting here until everything starts making sense, but they don’t have that kind of time. They can’t stay. They need to move. They need to properly hide. 

Scar feels awful, but he needs to push through. He needs to force Grian to move.

The snow is splattered with blood. The forest is dead silent, scattered bodies left behind all across it. The area is riddled with traps, some activated and others still hidden, waiting to be triggered. 

The sun is shining.

The silence is eerie.

The scent of blood is thick and fresh and nothing feels safe.

--

Later, when Grian’s more coherent, he says, “They were right.” In an incredibly quiet, fragile, unsteady voice—but laced with determination—he tells Scar: “You should’ve taken their deal.”

Scar immediately tries to dismiss it. Preferably to not engage with this conversation at all. “Not interested.”

Grian registers the shut down of the discussion, but that doesn’t make it any less loud inside of his mind (and heart). He simply goes quiet and withdraws. Lips pursed, lightly frowning, staring somewhere away.

They don’t talk about it again.

Late at night, when Grian can’t sleep because he’s too high strung, he thinks of how it’d feel like, to be used by those vexes as a bait.

He dreams about it.

He dreams of faraway chirps and laughter and hounds finding him.

He has so many nightmares after this.

-------

BONUS screenshot for shits n giggles:

[torhues]

oikawa tooru.

oikawa loves to watch you sleep.

it's nothing new. you've been living together for a little over a year now, his mornings begin with you sleeping by his side most of the time but, but oikawa doesn't look like he has moved on from the way you look when you're sleeping.

he thinks you look funny— ugly, maybe not ugly, but definitely funny. you look like such a mess, make weird faces, leave trails of incoherent words that wake him up in middle of the night. your limbs are all over the bed and most of the time, they're above him, as if he's your bed or something. you never wake up the way you go to sleep, always ending up on his side of the bed, pushing him to the edge while wrapping your arms around him as if you're holding him for falling down, like you're not the reason why he's in that position in the first place. you end up taking the whole comforter and it got to the point where oikawa suggested using two different comforters for the sake of both of you, but it didn't help either, since you would leave yours and slide into his every single night.

but he doesn't complain, not at all. he doesn't mind if you steal his comforter and he has to sleep without one every night. it's fine if he falls down from bed once a few days, or if he wakes up with a neck or back pain thanks to your habit of having your hands and legs all over him. oikawa doesn't have any complaints because he thinks it's a blessing to wake up every night and look at your beautiful face.

he thinks you're the prettiest while sleeping because you don't seem to care about the way you have to present yourself to people, even if it's just him and you in the room. you smile while sleeping, or frown, make some sort of angry face, etcetera etcetera; oikawa thinks it's adorable, because those are the moments when he realises he's in love with you.

"you could've woken me up," and sometimes, he's too busy falling in love with you, he doesn't realise you've woken up already.

"thought i'd let you sleep a little more," he speaks just above the comforting silence enveloping the two of you, trying to maintain the decorum, matching the intensity of his voice with yours while caressing your cheeks. "you're making me want to sleep again,"

"well, y—" he slips in next to you, making you shift involuntarily to make space for him. his hands are a little cold, sending bits of shivers down your spine as he wraps them around your waist, letting his fingertips trace random patterns on the bare skin under your sweatshirt. "i'd love to sleep more but, we need to make breakfast,"

"what's so good about breakfast at seven on a winter morning?" he whispers against the crook of your neck.

you chortle at the contact, "may be that it can help me with my hunger?"

"if we sleep, we won't be hungry anymore," oikawa pulls back, allowing his eyes to admire your face while you take your time presuming the words behind his love sick eyes. "can i tell you something?"

"go on,"

"i think i'm in love with you,"

your lips curl into a smile, "you tell me that every day," or more so, multiple times, every day. it's more of a remind so that you don't forget he loves you, and that he loves you more than anything else in this world, as if you're ever going to forget it.

"no i mean, i'm in love with you right now, at the moment, while we're lying next to each other; like, i'm falling in love with you right now and—" a pause, as if he's trying to build up suspense or create the atmosphere. it's simply an oikawa thing to do, he wants everything about you to be special. "— and, i don't think i can ever stop falling in love with you,"

it's magical how every single word that falls off his lips manages to flutter your heart. his smile never fails to fluster you even though you've been dating for three years now. oikawa has you going crazy and also keeps you sane. it's difficult, but you're somewhere in between. he has you head over heels for himself, making you fall for him every morning that you wake up. he's keeping you afloat but is also the reason why you're drowning. he is like a pool of contradictions in your life and you can't help it because every part of him makes you feel alive.

that is the effect oikawa has on you. so, you cup his cheeks, hoping that you have the same, if not more, effect on him as well. "i don't think i can ever stop falling in love with you either,"

[tarotenvelhecida]

pick a card– your next (platonic or romantic) love

"It's pouring, the trees are getting greener before my eyes, I love you. I'm almost afraid of the intensity of this happiness." — Vladmir Nabokov, Letters to Véra.

Whether a friend, a lover, a companion – platonic or romantic – who is going to love you next? who are you loving next?

1. THE FIRST.

A young woman or a girl, maybe younger than you - or at least seems to be.  This is definitely a platonic relationship, something that has been going on for a few lifetimes already. Quiet, almost melancholic. Tired all the time. Water sign; Cancer or Scorpio. “Weird little girl” vibes, but has the mentality of a 90-year-old grandmother. Likes reading or is just generally smart, almost crossing the line to “a little bit cunning”. The type of friend that doesn’t like going out of the house; a good listener, loyal to a fault. You two will end up very close friends. Probably the youngest of the friend group, someone who everyone is extremely protective of. Introvert. Sensitive, intuitive. Been through a lot.

If you’re pregnant, planning to be or considering adopting, this might even reference a future child. For people who have no interest in having children themselves, there’s a possibility of this being about a future sister, a niece, someone from your family or related to someone you consider family. 

Words associated with both this pile and this person are — Melancholy. Knowledge. Guidance. Magic. Fate. Water. Beach. Rain, summer thunderstorms. Butterfly. Lamb. The moon. 

2. THE SECOND.

A man around your age, maybe just a few years older than you. Trustworthy, calm. The lighthouse in the middle of a sea storm, a beacon of cold light. Earth or fire sign. For most of you, this is going to be a fraternal relationship - to others it will end up romantic. Might also be a relevant past life connection.

He might be a teacher, a lawyer, a writer. Has high standards, prides himself on working hard. Honest, but compassionate. Might appear aloof or distant sometimes - a little bit boring. Has the tendency to bury himself on his job or hobbies. Likes to be alone; an introvert, with a tendency for isolation. He resembles a pine tree, standing tall, watching the world both grow and die around him. 

Words associated with both this pile and this person — Glasses. Magnifying glass. Winter. Fireplace. Smoke. The coldness of burning. Ink. 

3. THE THIRD.

A woman - a butterfly, the type that lives just one day; but lives either way. You two might have a platonic or romantic relationship, depending on who you are. She’s an ambivert, with strong Leo and Capricorn vibes. She feels like a comfortable Café, like the throes of a warm affection, fondness, dripping gold. 

Fiercely loyal to all of her friends, capable of being almost apologetic. Probably has some unhealthy tendencies regarding relationships and understanding boundaries, though is not inherently malicious. Likes meeting new people and hanging out in calm, family-like places. 

Might be an artist, a painter, someone that enjoys doing things with her hands. Other people may see her as lazy, but, really, she just enjoys life and enjoys doing nothing but that. I have the image of a cat basking on the sun coming from the kitchen window. And The Caterpillar, from Alice in Wonderland. A true wild heart.

Words associated with both this pile and this person — Gold. Summer. Warmhearted. Lion. Laughter. Sand. Garden. Hands. Secrets. Breeze. Fondness.

[seafoamreadings]

week of july 16th, 2023

aries: not the best news for your sign this week with your ruling planet opposing saturn and the sun squaring the nodes. you'll feel almost certainly held back in some way, or several ways, and slow going is not known to be an aries favorite. just try to relax into it. things speed back up later.

taurus: your ruling planet goes retrograde this week. it can be hard for natural venusians such as yourself, especially during the first and last few days. but it can also be exciting, and you can make it a relaxing self care event if you insist on putting yourself first, which is only right for such an earthly incarnation of aphrodite herself.

gemini: naturally you have an ability, actually a gift, for being able to enjoy small and flirtatious things even in heavy and weird times. actually you can turn chaos into magic, without even trying. it's great, but others will find it grating at this time, so don't be too flamboyant about it until the sun is well into leo (where it ingresses later on this week).

cancerians: this week has a new moon in your sign and then boom, leo season begins. the spotlight is off of you, which will suit many cancerian people who like to be quietly at home, and now your finances get a cool stroke of luck somehow.

leo: while cancer season tends to be relaxing and calm and restorative, the end of this one was a bit tough if not downright harrowing. after the cancer new moon this week, your own leo season begins, and things get both more fun and more glamorous.

virgo: i almost hate to break it to you but this week is either chaotic or painful (or both?) in your close and committed relationships. i say "almost" hate because ultimately the outcome is FREAKISHLY productive/constructive and all in your highest good, and that of your partner or whomever else is included in this construction.

libra: what does venus retrograde in leo bring for you? most likely your aesthetics and partnerships that are already sealed are pretty solid, although if they've been tumultuous they may take the opportunity to disintegrate. what's shifting really is your social scene, the acquaintances around you and your network at large. evaluate the status of these things in your life and mine them for insight.

scorpio: the whole week has a watery and ominous tone. the best advice right now for you is to recede from the limelight. sometimes the sultry air benefits you but for now and the rest of the summer (winter in the southern hemisphere) it functions much better in private.

sagittarius: you may need to go farther out of your way than some others to make sure venus retrograde doesn't get you down. that's ok, do what it takes. try to focus on yourself even when that advice gets to be its most annoying, and as much as possible also work on quietly expanding your mind.

capricorn: your yearly partnership new moon is incoming. you can find a business partner if that's what you really want, or the lustier capricorns ruled more by the god pan find long term lusty companions. or at least they're seeking them. the finding depends on personal factors, but as this moon waxes it's a great time to start looking.

aquarius: for good reason, venus retrograde is associated with love stuff. but for you in particular the focus is on committed relationships - and it doesn't fully let up until october. what partnerships (do or would) bring you pleasure? which are more of a ball and chain? what can be done about it all? start asking now, and hopefully in a couple months your answers are settled.

pisces: there's much to affect you all week so watch the transits closely. in many ways it affects you in muted tones. meanwhile the retrograde of venus does get your daily routines and may have you feeling that the magic has receded from the mundane. in truth it has not, and no one is better at seeing the spirit within the seemingly inanimate than you are.