#the skin under her arm is actual skin. its not scales

[dinodogs]

Local woman who is full of hatred.

Not my fave design I've ever made but it works for what I need her for

(click for better quality. Don't like if you aren't going to reblog)

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Ten

masterlist

note: hi everyone! there's not much action going on here in this chapter but i just really wanted to give you guys another chapter. i may do longer wait times between uploading chapters like i did with this one since i deal with motivation issues but im gonna do my best to continue uploading the story till it's finished <3

professor sato stared at the wall of the elevator, his body slowly descending down from the first floor of his sons house. the doors opened, showing ultraman's face blocking any movement forward. he could only stare at him silently as kenji spoke.

"dad, im not asking for complaints, guilt, or criticism. not right now, i just... we need you help." he stepped aside out of the way from professor sato to walk in. a soft gasp escaped him as he looked at the scene before him.

he recognized your ultra form in front of him, holding down what looked like to be a kaiju. a baby one at that. he couldn't help but stare at awe at the sight in front of him. he eyes and mind couldn't believe that an actual baby kaiju laid in front of him.

"y/n, is that you?" he asked, confused about you and his son being together in the same room. he held no knowledge of your connections together. he would only worry about where you would go in the time that you weren't fighting kaijus that attacked. he shook his thoughts off to acknowledge the sight in front of him.

his hands touched the scales that littered their skin. "incredible." before he could say anything, kenji who sat on your side started to talk. "she's hurt dad. we were attacked. i don't know what to do." his voice was shaky, almost as thought he could break down in tears looking at the injured baby.

your heart clenched at the quiver in his voice, wishing you could comfort him but the priority of your babies comfort stood first in line. "she got loose, i should have been there." he gasped out. "no kenji, i should have been there, i was literally there. she got out right under my nose." you said holding the baby in your arms.

professor sato hands neared where the syringe of green liquid was stuck on the babies body. "shh shh" professor sato tried to comfort the pink creature as they whined in pain and fear. "dad please! careful with her." kenji cried out, anxious to see the kaiju he had grown to love was injured.

this was all new to him. growing up as a single child, he had no one to worry about besides his mom when they moved to the states. he had no close family, no younger siblings. he was truthfully forced to grow up too early.

but since the day he had first held the baby kaiju in his arms, he had found himself feeling a way. attached. love if you would call it that. he had grown to love them the way a father would. it was a sweet bittersweet feeling.

"it's okay, its okay, he's not gonna hurt you." said while you rubbed the babies head to soothe them as your other hand found kenji's back to rub. professor sato gently but quickly pulled off the syringe as he watched the way you two interacted. he didn't want to assume but there was a closeness between the two of you.

"it's good to see you again, professor." he smiled while turned to mina. "hello mina." he said holding the green syringe. "it's been a while." mina's voice was gentle, a slight tone of joy seeing the professor after a long while. "it has. can you do me a favor? can you run an analysis on this?" he held out the syringe to the robotic arm that reached for it. mina's 'eye' scanned the syringe.

professor sato turned towards the two of you. "dad, please, do something, help her." kenji whispered out. "please professor." you added on in desperation for help. for anything. he nodded and kneeled slowly with the help of his cane. "mina, it looks like like she might have a broken arm. can you confirm?" he turned to mina who began to scan the arm. "yes, that's correct. she has a mid-humeral fracture with associated hematoma." she finished explaining just when the the baby kaiju cried a little bit. "it's okay it's okay." professor sato comforted her.

mina began to speak up once again. "i have completed the chem analysis, professor sato. it's a powerful sedative, but it's harmless." you let out a breath of relief hearing that the liquid wasn't poisonous in any way. you felt kenji grasp the hand you one had on his back in his own. he squeezed it a comforting manner, making you smile internally.

"can you synthesize a 100 ccs?" professor sato asked mina, which she agreed too. "good, we'll need more." kenji heard his dad, turning to him in shock. "more? why more?!" he yelled in fear. "kenji, you may not agree with me on anything else, but right now, i'm the best chance she has. so please, please, let me help." he softly begged to his son. kenji let out a soft 'okay', giving his dad a nod.

professor sato's torso turned as he reached for the bag at his side. he pulled out a small bunny, one adorned with colors of yellow, green, purple, and red. he held it out to the baby kaiju, allowing you and kenji to see it. "dad, bunny?" he inquired softly.

"it always worked on you." he said softly as he clicked a button. a familiar melody began to play as your baby began to coo in joy. he played bunny on the babies arm, letting her watch it with curiosity.

he then began to sing with the song. "🎶 b-i-n-g-o, b-i-n-g-o," he grabbed his metal cane, placing it in the crevice of her arm. "okay now hold her steady, please y/n." he said as you listened and placed a gentle but sturdy grip on her.

mina's robotic arms came out from the ground as they grabbed at the baby kaijus arms to hold her arm steady. professor sato aligned his hip with the fracture at her hand. with one swift movement, he pushed against it, letting out a crack. in an instant, a cry erupted from the baby kaijus arm from the pain.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

you and kenji sat on the couch of the small room in his base. your eyes watched at you baby kaiju who laid in their containment unit, sleeping peacefully.

professor sato walked into the room with his cane holding a mug. you instinctively shot up from your seat, rushing by over to help him sit down carefully. it's not that he was at an age where he would need help but after his injury from being the past ultraman, you found yourself building a habit of helping him walk.

you led him to sit down on the sofa, taking away the mug he held and placed it on the table in front of kenji. "bad habit." he said looking at kenji who tapped his foot anxiously. you moved back to your spot on the other side of kenji, sitting closer to him for comfort.

"i'd say we did pretty well considering the circumstance." he spoke trying to continue a conversation. kenji turned to him. "dad i- i really appreciate you showing up, i do. but this doesn't make you ultradad. you know, we're not suddenly gonna be best pals."

kenj sat hunched over his right hand holding his face. the atmosphere had done tense. you felt your own body turn rigid from the feeling. as cliche as it sounds, you could almost cut the atmosphere with scissors from how thick it was. you turned to kenji, trying to hint to ask if you could leave, not wanting to be rude or intruding.

you felt his free hand next to you grab you hand nearest to him, silently reassuring you that it was okay for you to listen. professor sato watched the site in front of him once again, taking in these small acts of closeness between the two of you. staying silent once again.

"kenji, y/n, i need to show you something. mina, news please." what was once a window, turned into a tv as cheif officer of KDF, dr. onda, was shown talking on national television. you felt yourself tense up, recognizing the man that you had learned was behind all the kaiju attacks.

"fortunately, the KDF was able to contain the damage and no one was harmed. but the kaiju escaped, and it would appear that ultraman and the new ultra hero are actually defending the beast. the KDF are conducting a massive search for both the creature and the two ultra heroes. we will protect the families of this city. we will get to the bottom of this and we will eliminate the threat."

the news showed clips of the baby kaiju running around, then switching into the KDF jets searching for the missing kaiju. your baby kaiju. professor sato turned to the both of you, who sat intensely watching the new till it was turned off.

"kenji, i have been tracking onda. even y/n has when we would work together more frequently. and until now he's been content on just killing whatever kaiju attacks the city. but somethings changed. he wasn't trying to kill the baby. he wanted her alive. i've known onda for a long time. he is brilliant and cunning. and he will never stop, not until she's captured and you're dead. until you're both dead.

you head snapped towards professor sato, shocked to actually have to acknowledge the truth. kenji's eyes widened, his body had turned stiff as the three of you stared at the baby kaiju who shivered slightly as mina sang to her. you felt your heart clench in fear of her being alone, without you, the two of you.

professor sato sighed at the sight, turning back to kenji. "you and i don't have to be best pals, kenji. but can we at least agree that she is the priority?" he said staring at his son.

"yes, she is." kenji responded looking at his father while you gave him a quick nod. professor sato turned to the two of you. "do you have a plan?" just in that moment, mina came out to the two of you, laying out the plan.

"we thought returning the baby to her natural habitat would be best, professor sato. but the location of kaiju island remains elusive." she spoke. professor began to walk around, almost anxiously. "even if we could find it, without a mother to defend her, the baby might starve, drown, die from hypothermia, or another kaiju could eat her as a snack-"

his panicking rambling was cut off my kenji who spoke sternly. "i got it, i got it." his dad then turned to the two of you, his voice silently desperate. "we have to raise her, the way her mother would have." he said. his eyes were pleading for the two of you to agree as he walked away.

kenji stood up from his spot, pulling you with him as your hands were still intertwined. he then let go as he neared his dad, raising them in shock. "so you're suggesting that you and i- uh ultrapeople, people who are supposed to fight these things, should train this baby to essentially kick our butts?" he spoke as his body jumped with shock with each step he took.

"kenji, she needs us." professor sato spoke softly. kenji turned to you, looking into your eyes for what you would have to say. it might have been your attachment speaking or your mutual agreements with professor sato but you knew that not teaching her was not good.

"we have to kenji. i rather her kick our asses than know that she's struggling to even survive. i need to know she's safe and sound." kenji could only nod slightly, giving you a soft smile as he turned to his dad to agree.

TAGLIST

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @ldykir4 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @m00nd0v3 @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe @mtheooo @chreiiii @secretlyapartofthisfandom @greenmanshoe @badbishsblog @reallysparklychaos @deimmortales99 @ashsallyblue2 @matchalatte06 @random-3455 @reivelmin @jennyfernan @solatiiium @liliabrary @maxi-ride @22carolina08 @coffetears @vyxnn-xage

[oh-stars]

Ice Bath

wc: 509 | cw: N/A | gen rating | for @steddiemicrofic | Prompt: "edge"

---

Steve feels ancient. He may be active and still the strongest of their team, but he can feel his body fighting against him more and more every day. It’s like it wants to crumble under the weight, his knees cracking and the discs in his spine wobbling. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t fighting to keep what little remains intact. 

He spends hours every day training his body to be at its prime, to show off a finesse of strength and agility that most people have lost with comfort. Runs, weights, extreme obstacles; you name it and Steve has it in his workout routine. 

Steve shivers as he steps into the ice bath, trying to soothe his inflamed muscles and numb the pain… everywhere. Another grueling part of his routine. 

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself,” Eddie says from his spot on the closed toilet seat. “You’re miserable every time—“

“It helps,” Steve says, “even if it sucks in the moment.”

Robin hums a note from the ‘um, actually’ scale and kicks her feet so her heels bang against the cabinets beneath her seat on the counter. “Is it really worth it?” 

Another necessary evil to his routine: the peanut gallery. 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “Yes,” his teeth clatter with the syllable. He tries to even his breathing, taking in intentional breaths to distract from the biting chill. 

“Really?” Eddie asks, incredulously. Without looking, Steve knows his eyebrow is raised and his arms are crossed as a teasing smile halfway between fond and something Steve can never pinpoint dances on his face. 

“Is this about your youth again?” Robin asks, using a blend of her 'Steve' voice and a British accent — the voice she and Eddie use to tease him about his vanity or the silly ideals his parents shoved down his throat. 

Eddie gasps, adopting the same voice, “Oh can’t you see our dearest Steven is wilting before our eyes, Robilina?” 

Robin also gasps and Steve just knows they’re swooning into one another. “Oh Edwarnold,” she yelps, “whatever will we do?” 

Steve sighs and runs a hand over his face, dropping ice-cold water all over himself. He’s submerged to his chest, but at this rate, he wants to dunk himself and both of his loving dweebs under the layer of ice in his small bath. “Sue me for trying to keep my body in peak fitness,” he says, glaring at their giggling faces, “some of us actually have to fight.” 

Eddie gasps for real this time, leaning forward as his eyes narrow. “This isn’t about you getting old,” he crows, “this is about Wheeler beating you in the relay!” 

He throws up his hands, water splashing and revealing more of his pebbled skin. “I’ve lost my edge! It wasn’t even a close race!”

Robin laughs so hard she’s crying as Eddie leans forward to kiss Steve’s hair, a condensing gesture he won’t ever turn down. 

Steve continues, “I’ll take losing to Nancy, fine, but Mike? How the hell did I lose to Mike Wheeler?”

—

Thanks @lady-lostmind for betaing 💜

[skyliv]

i actually don’t even have a joke this time i just went wild and my notes app just so happened to be open for about 1800 words of sludge

so here’s the canon! 100% main! somewhat abridged version of skyliv meeting!!!!

Date: 4/12/18

Location: Alchemax - Hudson Valley Campus

Name: Ross, Lucielle

Age: 25

Species: Human [X-Gene active. DNA merged with Phoca vitulina.]

Height: 1.59 M - Weight: 59.42 KG

Appointment Time: 11:00 AM.

Subject Time of Arrival: 10:42 AM.

-

“You’re here!” Doctor Octavius exclaimed, her aloof expression stretching into a cheerful smile. She rockets off her exercise ball, kicking it with the back of her foot under the desk as she quickly steps to the door. Her subject was really there, the first mutant subject who volunteered and actually showed up.

Lucielle stepped in cautiously, idle fingers tracing the edge of the glass door that slid open with her arrival. She lit up, smile just as bright. “Doctor! I apologize if I’m early, I’ve wanted to visit the campus for quite some time.”

The door slid back shut just as Olivia cut Lucielle off.

“Oh, don’t even fret.. Look at you, just look at you! When I heard your mutation presented physically I didn’t expect this!” She flaps her hands at her hips, holding herself back from pouncing on the mutant like a dog on a leash.

“Really? I’m not the most- Out there mutant, I mean you could very well have met someone with orange skin, or covered in scales, or with the face of an animal!” Lucielle tries to deescalate the situation, to get Olivia’s enthusiasm pointed to anything else. She raises her hands with palms out, her small white bag dropping to the crook of her elbow.

Unfortunately, this didn’t work, as Olivia’s wide eyes shot right to the claws peeking over the pads of Lucielle’s fingers.

“And those!” She exclaims, rounding to the mutant’s side and ushering her further into the lab, “You filled out the forms, correct? I’d love to begin but it’s, you know, for the company’s sake.”

As she spoke Olivia stepped behind the mutant, stopping at her desk and rummaging through a drawer. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she leaves the drawer open for a moment and turns to a few stacked sheets in front of her, right hand scribbling something down. Lucielle stepped further in as well, mirroring the action and draping her bag’s strap over the desk. Her eyes were low, as if in a show of respect.

“I did,” She answered politely with a ghost of a nod, “And the surveys too, you don’t have to worry about those.”

Olivia pulled out what she was searching for, a black octagonal device that was just about the size of her hand. One side was accented with a screen, and the other was decorated with sensors and odd buttons. Her smile was wild, tinged with mania that just grew as nimble fingers flew across the screen.

“Alright, ok,” Olivia mumbles under her breath, before looking back and stepping up, “I’ll get some samples later, I just want to see if this works..”

Lucielle kept a gentle hand on the edge of the glassy desk, nails clinking against it. She raises a brow and is about to speak before Olivia holds out the machine, a few of its sensors lit up red. The one time she hasn’t stared at Lucielle was now as she watched the screen. The mutant gives her a skeptical glance, slate blue eyes flicking down to the notepad she practically scribbles on.

“Operational…” Is the only word she can make out, but her scrutiny is stopped when the small light flicks green and the back screen brightens. Olivia’s quick writing swirled to a stop, Lucielle could’ve sworn she saw the exact moment Olivia’s smile grew, how those hazel eyes shimmered with golden joy.

“X-Gene detected!” She exclaimed, “I knew it! We had some older DNA samples from other mutants, they didn’t really want me to keep them. So I had to let them go after the first tests- But this- This is phenomenal!”

As she spoke, Olivia draped her arm over Lucielle’s shoulder, dragging her closer to shove the screen to her chest. It read just as she said, with some more statistics that the selkie couldn’t care much less about. She was too concerned at the proximity, her hands coming up before she freezes entirely.

“It- It worked, great… But how do you know it’ll succeed long distance?” Maybe this would get Olivia off her side.

But it didn’t, the doctor turned her head a little, sharp roman nose just barely brushing the shorter woman’s thick bangs. “Trust me,” Her smile stretched before she continued, “This baby works up to a half mile radius! It sends its data right back to security.”

Lucielle almost jumped at the more sudden motions, a tight squeeze, quick glances, the way the doctor’s hand almost shook with her delight. She felt accomplished, almost proud that her basic participation could bring about such joy. But that warm feeling in her heart did nothing to erase the sense of social anxiety she was caged in.

“Great! That’s great,” The mutant says with a nervous chuckle. Olivia must’ve noticed that worry, but she didn’t play into it like she usually would- Rather, she let go and pushed Lucielle away with a flourish before leaning over her desk to scrawl down a few more notes.

“It’s more than great, it’s exceptional.” She laughed, her glasses sliding down her nose before she lifted her head once more. The mutant only caught her next chance to eye the notes when Olivia turned to discard the device on one of the long counters lining the office wall. Olivia’s lab coat had do be at least one size too big, as it billowed to her ankles and spun just as she did; even the sleeves seemed too large, they had to be rolled up to her scraped elbows. She didn’t worry about what the scientist was getting, she wasn’t sure why, but she took a quick peek at the clipboard instead.

That was not what she was expecting.

Olivia rattled on about the device’s intricacies, Lucielle would probably have to ask again later if she wanted to stay on the scientist’s good side. But she was too focused on the lined paper, and the rushed round sketch of what looked to be a seal. If anything, a child could do better, but it was scrawled out in a matter of seconds when she wasn’t looking.

“Like this,” A little note in blue lies below it, an arrow pointing up to the seal in the corner. It was right above a small section of notes on her appearance, something she didn’t expect to be all that important in the long term.

“Thankfully, since the machine is operational, I can just tweak some last pieces before pitching,” Olivia rounds out her speech, unaware of her volunteer’s lack of attention, “So now, I just want to be polite, but you still agreed to a few DNA samples-“

Lucielle snapped to attention, hair puffing up at her shoulders and heart skipping as she whisked around to face forward. “Oh!” She exclaimed, the loudest she’d been their whole meeting. Although, she does catch herself and soften her tone, “Yes, yes, I agreed..”

Olivia was almost scared to prolong this, so, she kept busy. She snipped off a few strands of Lucielle’s hair with the precision of a barber, pricked her left index finger with all the swiftness of a thief, but when she decided to do a swab for saliva last, she hesitated.

The two women had been practically silent for the most part, Olivia only cut through it to announce what she was doing so she wouldn’t scare the mutant. But now, as she stands just barely taller than Lucielle, hand just above that soft jawline, she felt herself pause.

“Just a subject.” Olivia reminded herself, feeling a spark of electricity set off in the harness on her back.

“Just do this, and you’ll never have to see her again.” Another small flicker, this time jolting right up through her spine. She couldn’t help but feel her brows furrow, battling her thoughts about this volunteer. She couldn’t find her pretty, right? There was that sense of warmth coming from the mutant, the way her form moved like the sea, the way those eyes glimmered like sunlight beaming through waves.

“Alright, could you open your mouth real quick? I juust need to get these samples,” Olivia directed, forcing herself out of her thoughts as she waves the stick of a cotton swab. She was so used to dealing with more unsavory sides of her work, she felt her face fall slack when the mutant actually complied. To stop herself from staring at those almost serrated canine teeth, she finally holds her left hand to Lucielle’s jaw and swipes the inner side of her cheek for a sample.

As quickly as she began, she spun back around, swallowing her pride. She’s cursing to herself, why didn’t she play into Lucielle’s earlier worry? Why didn’t she toy with her, just as she had with the others? Something compelled her not to, but for the sake of her work, she wanted to push that down.

“There,” Olivia packs away the samples into their own sterile containers, before turning her head to the side. Lucielle had stepped back, hand right where Olivia had held her face. The doctor could’ve sworn she saw a hint of blush crawling in front of those freckles. “That’s all I needed, actually..”

Lucielle’s eyes darted to a clock above the door, it had been less than a half hour, she came so early that just now was the planned time. Her hands clench at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she seethed in embarrassment. Neither of them could talk to each other, at least not yet.

Olivia tapped her hands on the countertop, watching and waiting as Lucielle turned to grab her bag. When she did, Olivia pounced.

“Actually!” She said suddenly, trying to bring that unhinged glee back into her tone. After a moment, however, she figured it was no use and calmed herself down. “I was wondering if you could come in next week as well- You can plan a proper appointment at the front desk, I don’t do much on Thursdays anyways, but you were a wonderful student at Xavier’s and I’d love nothing more than your input every now and then.”

Lucielle’s eyes widened, for the first time during their meeting she actually went silent out of shock, not embarrassment.

“I was… I was actually considering asking you that,” She answered kindly, before clearing her throat, “I’d love to- Is the same time alright?”

Olivia felt her right hand tighten around one of the sample cases, nearly causing it to rip. She smiled, not her usual cunning sneer, or the sharp grin she had when she discovered something, but a softer smile. With a small breath, she nodded, eyes low.

“Sure, of course.. Feel free to come early if you’d like, too.”

[klausysworld]

Klaus or Elijah with somebody famous please ♥️♥️

(Contains both Klaus&Elijah-just scroll down)

Klaus with a famous girl:

Klaus is the biggest supporter and biggest issue at the same time.

Because of course he would support his love until his dying breath, he would be so proud and encouraging. He doesn’t doubt her ability, wouldn’t stand for any hate she receives.

But his possessiveness and jealousy does not mix well. He hates how everyone is dying to have their hands on her, when fans are fighting for her attention and love.

But each time she just reminds him that it’s him that she chose to give it to, he gets the affection and he gets to be with her when she goes home.

His favourite thing to help with is the outfits. He has a lot of opinions and always brings in Rebekah for final validation.

He’s there through the whole process: hair, makeup, clothes. He’s right behind her, arms around her waist and lips on her neck with a low whine leaving him when she reminds him that he can’t leave any marks on her skin for the public eye.

It’s difficult when having Klaus under attention of the people, he can’t be too recognised because of the things he does. Neither of them want that and Klaus became very careful with compelling people and trying to do any killings/violence on the down low instead of as a display.

One thing that she told her fans about him was his artwork and his art show was fully booked immediately. He had been like a puppy wagging its tail when she showed him how many people came.

Klaus loved that the cameras would always seem to capture photos of their lips together, knowing that everyone would know she was his and that they loved each other.

Klaus is a comment reader and a shameless replier. He’s I’ll tell a hater exactly how he feels and he will go through liking fans comments.

Y/n always tells him he should stop but he can’t help it.

He admires her confidence and attitude toward life but also sees the insecurities and challenges she faces as a result of her status.

He will always be there for her whether she’s looking about ready for a photoshoot or is she’s crying on the bathroom floor.

His arms are her safety net, he would never let her fall through.

Klaus is often seen in photos just gazing at y/n and people comment on it a lot.

His outfits are always to a high standard but he also never wants to pull focus from y/n. As much as he wishes he could have her all to himself, he loves that people look up to her and that she is happy.

He watches everything she’s in (whether it’s films/tv/music videos/etc) and attends everything she’s invited to (awards/auditions/interviews/etc)

He doesn’t care if he has to wait in a room or if he actually gets to be with her, just as long as she knows that when she walks out he will be right there for her.

Klaus is happy for her to have her own driver, it just means he gets to have he run the back seats with him. The poor driver has heard it all as he rubs his scent all over after she just modelled her body for everyone to see.

Klaus would need to claim her all the time, make sure she knows that even though the world thinks shes theirs, she will always be his.

———————————————————————

Elijah with a famous girl:

Elijah is a man that cares about his image and so finding someone who was similar but on a different scale was rather interesting.

Elijah isn’t one for wanting all the attention but more the recognition but seeing how she thrived and how people made declarations of love for her just touched his heart in ways he wasn’t sure how.

Elijah and y/n are the best dressed couple without a doubt.

He is there at every event. He is both a lover and a bodyguard. Photogenic as you like and just about ready for everything.

He would carry anything of hers and help her with anything.

It once began to rain at an outside event and he pulled a umbrella from his pocket and had been carrying around her ‘beauty box’ so was able to fix her hair with she looked up at him with a soft smile on her lips.

Elijah is the first person to stand up in the applause at the end of her speeches, whether it’s for an award or an important event.

Nobody touches her unless she is 1000% certain its okay and even then he doesn’t like it.

Elijah is her designated driver and he is prepared for anything.

He is ready to carry her out of crowds if he has to.

Whether she’s drunk or doped up or just on an adrenaline high, he looks after her and makes sure the camera only sees her when she’s at her best.

He doesn’t want her to go through any hate or trouble. He’s very protective and has seen how fame can take its toll on people and so he is careful and is willing to keep you locked inside for a few days or weeks to keep her mental health safe.

Elijah is happy to have y/n with his family, Rebekah especially loves her and he likes that they are friends.

He worries sometimes because his family isn’t exactly normal and if anyone found out she was with a vampire then she would be ruined and they would have to go into hiding but he can’t help that he loves her too much to care. Instead he just keeps everything hidden.

The public see Elijah as a very protective boyfriend to y/n. He gets confused to be her bodyguard sometimes but he doesn’t mind.

Elijah is happy to be her main protector and he gets jealous of her actual body guards.

Sometimes he got frustrated, when she’s out all the time and he isn’t able to have very much one-on-one time with her.

He often insists she sit on his lap when in interviews of that he can have a hand on her upper thigh, he needs to be as close as he can to her. Make sure nobody can take her away and that the public know he’s not going anywhere.

As soon as the cameras turn off he wants to be ontop of her, it gets agitating not being able to touch her when she’s doing her job and he wants to feel her.

So many times they have to go to her dressing room for 10 minutes so they can relish in eachother for a moment before she’s needed again.

Elijah wouldn’t make her choose between him and her job. He wouldn’t want to know the answer either so instead he does everything he can to make sure she never has to choose. He gives her both.

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 2

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

Gunfire rains down intensely, yet another shootout coming about as the result of another risky tactic being taken. His gun sits comfortably against his palm, cold steel pressed against  rough skin. He ducks out of his cover, taking a few shots at the men aiming for him and whooping in delight when he hits all of his marks. 

Boothill’s good at his job. He knows he’s good at it. He works hard at anything he does whether it be feeding the cattle, tending to the plants, or shooting up any unlucky fuck who happens to be put in front of him. To him it’s not any different than taking a horse out back and putting it out of its misery when the time comes. 

He just actually cares about the horse. 

It doesn’t take long for the gunfire to die down after some more choice shots. Boothill finally stands from where he’s been taking cover, stretching out his muscles as he covers his mouth in a yawn. 

“Well, looks like you made a mess of things again.” 

He turns around to face the voice, smiling widely when he sees the owner of the voice. 

“Well, well look at what the Devil dragged in,” he drawls, crossing his arms.  

“Seems more like I’m staring at the Devil himself right now,” Acheron scoffs, coming closer to him to survey the carnage. 

“Were all of these people on the list? Or did they just have the bad luck of running into you today?” 

“Little bit a’ both,” he laughs, stepping over one of the poor souls as the two of them continue their conversation. 

“You finish up on your side then?”

“In a neater style than you but yes, I did finish. I didn’t find it necessary to go through all of…whatever this is. The job was simple after all. It could have been taken care of a lot easier if you just focused on the one target rather than going after all their men.”

The two of them walk towards a bookshelf, Acheron flicking through the pages in search of the other part of the reason why the two of them were there. Boothill leans up against the wood, shaking his head in amusement. 

“D’ya even remember which one that is?” he grins, breaking out into laughter as Acheron ignores his question. 

“Exactly my point. We had to split up, didn’ we? You wouldn’ be able to figure out which son of gun you were meant to shoot, I just don’ give a damn.” 

“Considering the fact that you’re just sitting around waiting for me to find the documents we’re looking for I’d struggle to say that you don’t need me either.” 

“I didn’ say I didn’ need you. Besides, I could figure it out by myself if I really needed to. It’d just take me longer, that’s all,” he drawls, tracing his fingers over the spines of the books. 

“Readin’ has its uses. Gotta make sure I ain’t getting scammed selling off any of my little ladies,” he says wistfully.  

“That’s right. You grew up on a farm. You miss it?” 

Acheron tucks an envelope under her arm, finally locating the stack hidden away exactly where their employer said they would be. 

“Been missin’ it more and more lately,” he sighs, drawing his gun again as he provides her cover for any stragglers. 

Whenever he had a moment to himself he found it easy for his mind to wander. He imagines what it would be like to have the tall grass rustle around him again, sitting underneath a tree as he takes a moment to remind himself that the world still spins no matter what he does. In the distance he can hear the sound of cows milling about, bells ringing softly with every step they take. The sun beats down on his skin, comfortably seeping into his body as his hat rests over his face. He doesn’t quite understand why but his body’s always run a little cold, needing some extra heat to keep him warm.  

He’d fight sometimes, maybe needing to protect some of his cattle from a wily coyote or some irritating teenagers who think themselves brave as they scale his fence to tip some cows. It would never be an issue though - he’d be able to keep his animals safe just by using his reputation. People already knew him now as a bounty hunter; it made perfect sense to him that he could use that to his advantage. It would keep him in shape, let him have that excitement he was chasing after when he first started this job. 

“Think about going back,” Acheron suggests, voice cutting through his thoughts. 

The two of them have finally made it back to the ship, Acheron starting to steer it back to their current home base. Boothill can’t help but watch as the stars whir past them, tapping his finger against the bottom of the window.

“The money we make from this job is more than any of our other jobs combined. You could very well retire now. Live a little longer.” 

“Now when did you go soft on me?” he chuckles, laughing a little as he turns to face her. 

“Worried I’m gonna die and leave you all by your lonesome?” 

“Nothing of the sort,” she scoffs. 

“You’ve just seemed out of sorts recently. At the very least it’ll make your skills sharper. I’m sure the Boss wouldn’t mind your resignation anyway. You’ve given a lot of yourself for the company. Consider retiring.”

He can’t lie. The idea does sound appealing to him. Acheron was right after all; he had been working hard for a while now and had saved up more than enough money to buy a piece of land back home he’d just been daydreaming about. He wouldn’t even have to worry about expenses for a while, knowing that he’d be able to successfully run a cattle ranch if only he just had the time to.

“Maybe you’re right,” Boothill finally says, turning his gaze back to the stars whirring past. 

“It’s about time I returned back home.”

[papier-ciseaux]

What's in my Magician Maker picrew?

I will try to answer this to the best of my abilities!

Skin colours

There are 16 different skin colours! Regular human colours and some more alien-like! Yellow and Green are dark because they're meant for specific fandom characters. Grey is here for all the homestuck trolls

2. Ears

Normal ears, elf ears, mermaid fins! And earrings that fit each!

3. Vitiligo, freckles, scars, etc

Vitiligo comes in 6 different faces pattern, with the possibility of extending it to the whole body. There are three density of freckles in 6 colours to accomodate the different skin colours. There are also cheek scales, beauty marks, simple birthmarks, acne, and two attempts at portraying rashes/eczema in my style.

All of those are in one category so can't be combined

Wrinkles and scars are in different categories tho! Scars include: various facial gashes, tiny cuts, cleft lip, lichtenberg figures, burn scars, punch cheeks/black eye, frankenstein-like sutures, fantasy cracky of the skin! Each of the option actually hide a second scar in the colors

4. Facial features

Noses and mouths are pretty classic and their preview showcases what you'll get rather accurately. Eyebrows change in thickness/shape/colour when going through the colour option.

Colour options on the eye shape will change the mascara, or make it wink. The 3+ eyes offer a different set instead of winking. The sclera can be changed to different colours. The iris section helps show the various eye shapes.

5. Eyewears

Once again, some digging through colour options is necessary to find all of the eyewears (24 total with colour variations + 8 eyepatches)

6. Hijab

There are 7 different head covering with 6 unique colours for each! Some have very cool patterns if I may say so

7. Hair

There are different facial hair available in various colours, including some funny moustaches

Hair is very customisable, with straight, wavy, curly and kinky hair, all available in 18 colours, including a rainbow and a bicolour (blonde/black) options. Some hair can also have a gradient dye of black, red or blue. Examples:

8. Prosthetics

In the body section, it's possible to not have any arms, but there's also the robot arm option in the sleeve section. There's also a hook hand somewhere in the items. This is probably the most lacking section of the picrew ^^; If you have suggestions on things to add, send an ask.

9. Hand gestures

All of those come with gloves (short, long and fingerless) options, black nailpolish, and rings if possible to show. Also LOVE HATE knuckles tattoos. The 6th and 9th gestures are made to hold something: the main goal is to hold a wand because this is called "magician maker" but you can hold flags, flowers, or even a bird

10. Wands

A magician needs a wand! This is where the "gloomverse" aspect of this picrew comes in: I'm sure not everyone would call those things "wands", but in the lore of the comic, they can be! Canonical gloomverse wands examples:

But you can do so much more, if you explore a little ;)

11. Hats!

As important as wands, the hat of a magician! They can look like anything and have a lot of decoration on them. Hats can be created by choosing the brim and top's shapes, or you can choose already made ones:

Decorations are sorted by types, so I encourage exploration! They can make for fun add-on to a character, like the ears and horns:

12. Clothings

Each clothes come in 5 different "body types" with various cup sizes. That is the best I could come up with without quadrupling my workload.

There are a lot of way to customise the clothes. There's the clothes under, over, the collar, the sleeves, pride buttons/pins, logos, etc. Mostly homestuck references. Pride flags that aren't on the pins are in the background options*. Pronoun pins include: He/Him ; She/Her ; He/They ; She/They ; They/Them ; Ze/Hir ; Ze/Zir ; Fae/Faer ; It/Its

*(flags have been sorted in sexual orientation / gender / aspec at first, but due to people requesting more flags, it's not as clear cut. There are also blue version of pride flags due to fandom stuff, they're not official at all)

There's a lot more that could be said, but that's more than enough already!

[puppycheesecake]

Let’s make a Sim!

I thought it’d be fun to do a quick step-by-step rundown of how I make Sims. Long post, so I’ll put everything under the cut:

Step 1. Start with a base.

I keep a set of blank base Sims in my gallery to start with, so I don’t have to waste time removing clothes/accessories/hair/etc. These one’s were originally premades (the ones that pop up when you first open CAS), but it really doesn’t matter what they look like because we’ll be changing everything about them in a second.

Step 2. Randomize!

First let’s untick everything but the “face” and “skin tone” boxes for the randomization options. (The whole point of starting off with a base Sim was so we wouldn’t have to bother removing stuff.)

And...randomize!

I use Zerbu’s More CAS Presets mod to add a bunch of additional presets, so randomizing will generally give me something different every time. (I also have a ton of custom presets, but linking them individually would take 100 years, so we’ll skip that.)

Perfect! We’ll use this as a base to work with.

I actually like her underlying structure, so instead of choosing new face presets we’ll just work with what we already have.

Step 3. Adjust, adjust, adjust.

Let’s start making some adjustments. We’ll pull the ears out so they don’t lay so flat against her head, and lengthen her face a bit. I find that Sims tend to have kind of round face shapes with small jaws/chins, and I prefer them to be a little longer and more defined, so that’s usually the first thing I do. (Obviously you’ll tailor your Sims to your personal tastes, though.)

We’ll make some small adjustments to her jaw, cheeks, nose, lips, and chin. I prefer bigger noses on Sims, so I usually drag them down/out a bit. I also like sharper and more “severe” bone structure vs. soft and round, so I like to add extra definition.

Next we’ll add CC eyebrows (@ikari-sims‘s Jenna brows) and adjust the brow line a bit... (I’m a big fan of distinctive brows, so I tend to make them thicker/wider.)

Change the eye color (I’m using @missrubybird‘s Aqua Trigger eyes here), make a few more small facial tweaks...

Aaand there we are! I’m happy with her facial structure, so now we’ll move on to...

Step 4. Body.

I prefer custom body presets to the ones that come with the game, so we’ll use one of @obscurus-sims‘s female body presets and adjust it a bit (widen the shoulders and neck, make arms a bit thicker).

Step 5. Add body blush.

The first detail I add is always tattoo body blush. It’s a small difference, but that little bit of color is a must for me. I’m using a mix of @simandy‘s Torrada Blush and @obscurus-sims‘s Body Blush. (I think I use these two on every Sim I make.)

Step 6. Skin detail time!

Skin details do most of the heavy lifting. We’ll start with a skinblend (@obscurus-sims‘s N15 Overlay):

Then we’ll add some of @okruee‘s Misc. Face Details and one of @sammi-xox‘s Eye Masks.

Then @mmsims‘s Eyelashes V7 + @mintvalentine‘s Lash Filler, @nesurii‘s Little Details, @pyxiidis‘s Miscellany Pt.2 Nosemask, and @miikocc‘s Face-kit No.1.

Fabulous. Officially done with details!

Step 7. Hair.

Next up is adding hair + a hairline. I’m really loving @daylifesims‘s Gretchen hair right now, and we’ll pair it with @pixelore‘s Organic hairline.

Step 8. Makeup.

Optional, of course. I’m using @pralinesims‘s Lioness Eyeliner, @grimcookies‘s August Eyeshadow, @thepeachyfaerie‘s Eraser Lipstick, and @crypticsim​‘s Cloud Blush.

Step 9. Clothes & accessories.

Now let’s dress her up! We’ll go with @its-adrienpastel​‘s Saviour Dress, @solistair​‘s Calf Boots, @aharris00britney​‘s Beret, @kumikya​‘s Pearl Necklace, and @caio-cc​‘s Naomi Earrings.

And there she is! I think she turned out super cute.

Before and after:

** Here’s a list of all the custom sliders used (warning: it’s a lot):

Chin/profile

Shoulders

Chin

Eyebrow 01 / Eyebrow 02

Eyebrow N1

Pouty Lips

Lips N3 & N4

Nose N2

Eyelids N1

Eye Slider 07

Cheek Slider 12

Nose Width

Mouth Scale

[picturesofthegoneworlds]

Intertwined - Chapter 14 - Cannibal

Laudna holds the freshly de-scaled fish under the surface of the running river, its underside slit open from gill to tail, dyeing the water around it in crimson tendrils that are shaped by its current, decorated by errant tumbling shining scales, sparkling like stars on a red-skied night, motion fast and twisting so it creates shapes more akin to bolts than clouds, magic-

Blood strikes away from her pallid skin; carries down the river back towards their camp nestled in the alcove of giant tree roots.

Laudna had insisted that Imogen stay on her bedroll that morning, to try and get the rest adequate to fully heal-over the puncture under her ribs. She woke with no nightmares to report, but all of the tossing and turning Laudna watched her conduct in her sleep had her grimacing when her own slumber had abandoned her, fumbling for what to do and ending up paralysed within arm’s length of Imogen in her own bedroll.

Last night was-

well.

Laudna had made a choice. Exposed herself, past how much she already did so by travelling with a telepath; that still felt remarkable in and of itself (Imogen is remarkable).

exposed

like the freshly removed fish guts on the bank of the river

Laudna drops half of them into the stream organ by organ, leaves the other a platter on the floor for whom or whatever finds them.

Out of innards

Torn and bare, bared, raw. Imogen had seen the molars through the ripped flesh in Laudna’s mother’s cheeks, had last night seen her attempt to just peel her whole face off, remove the ability to be a doppelganger for an elf with tan and pink skin. 

Mourning. Veiling. What she had or what she had lost. She was never sure if that was for one or the other or both. Probably more.

Either way, it was inspiring. She kind of enjoys it, actually, now (especially now. Excited, even, at how she perhaps has an audience to appreciate her fine outfitting).

Laudna will make them both breakfast. Fish fried in butter with chickweed - she had seen a fair amount tangled in the vines.

Moss, she should collect and dry out more moss. A lot more.

(bandages)

Silt is disturbed on the calmer slight-bend at the bank of the river.

A larger fish with rough and warted skin like a toad crawls out on hind legs from under flat rocks that are surely slick with algae and moss.

moss

bandages, bandages

rivers of red

It has whiskers like a catfish, though much longer, must have noticed the disturbance in the water with such, using them as rods to lasso swimming organs into its gullet.  

Laudna had scooped the offal out of the clean line of dissection she had made, scraped against fleshy ribs with the tips of her talons.

She could have plunged a finger into the tear in Imogen’s side, the gap was accommodating enough. Could have felt the life and warmth of her insides press around her finger. Could have searched and hooked with nail. Could have pulled out her intestines in one long string and gathered them like rope under her arm-

Not that she would

Someone else, maybe

Maybe her, if she were under their rule

(she can’t have her. she can’t give her the chance.)

It feels like heartburn

It’s not warming

Laudna is always cold, numb.

Last night Imogen's breath came out as mist when she stood in Laudna’s vicinity. Veil covering, buffeting the touch between Imogen's hand and her shrapneled jaw. Warm flesh on bone. Delightful. Laudna does not think on how bone should be able to receive the feel of the touch without the nerve endings-  

Perhaps she muses on it for a moment. Magic. Violent. Violet. Lavender. Lilac. Glowing. Warm-

One of the living-fish’s antennae breach the skirt of the riverbank, smells and touches over the pebbles and foliage and splattered blood with a whisker and soon enough glossy dinner-plate eyes and blubbering mouth are being hiked over the ridge too, webbed feet and hind legs balancing on an exposed root sticking out of the muddy bank.

“I think it’s time to go~” Laudna sings, scooping up both the gutted fish and Pâté - who had been on knife-watching duty on a boulder - under the same arm and briskly walking back towards camp, the toad-cat-fish hybrid scarfing up the remainders of the innards.

(you can read the rest at the link. Thank you as always to @distant--shadow for the illustrations)

[milks-thoughts]

May I request a platonic request?(feel free to ignore this or out right just say if your uncomfy with my request so in the future i can avoid certain request like this ^^), future!leo x teen(13-15) reader?, fully FULLY platonic!!!!, I just wanted a found family between them TTwTT, okay for the little plot, reader walking down the streets after finishing their homework at the library, they walk pass a alleway, as they pass by their hard a crash in the alleway, them being a curious person they are they head back to check out to alleway, there they found a pass out big turtle with a metal arm?(and swords too!), slowly they walk foward, they can see a flicker of gold hues around him, as the reader got close they poke his check, no respond, they reach for the turtles neck if there still hearbeat, reader smile feeling the turtle heartbeats its slow but its still alive right?, what stump them the most is, how do they get the turtle home without making fuss?

(Again feel free to say if this request makes you really really uncomfy!! and I in adavnce deeply apologize!)

AAAA I LOVE THE YWD AU (I call it that, not sure if that's its actual name, the You Won’t Die AU as I call it is just Future Leo being sent back in time with Casey)

TW: blood and injury, swearing, death, readers mom is neglectful fr, mentions of substance @b_s3 (not reader or Leo), overall panic from Reader AND F! Leo, reader has mommy AND daddy issues

word count: 1,826 you guys got a meal

summary: Leo REALLY likes collecting kids (not in that way) and you are in desperate need of a father figure (guys I took this and ran)

Saddest little baby in the room

Leonardo should be dead, he knew that. So why did he feel the cold concrete under his scales before he lost consciousness. You were walking home from a friend's house, going to the alleyway to climb into your window your small frame stopped. “ what the fuck-? “ you hissed looking at the bloody raggedy man- thing- you crouched down and touched his side. He would absolutely need stitches, looking at your bedroom window you grumbled how the fuck are you supposed to get him up there?! you were only 13. Grabbing his body you looked at the prosthetic…maybe..? taking it off him you smiled at how he got lighter (you cannot tell me this man is very heavy he must’ve been starving it’s the apocalypse) you grabbed him and started lifting him up the stairs. You thanked whatever god was up there for allowing your building to have fire escape stairs, not ladders like this was old-timey Donkey Kong. You pushed open the window and pushed the limp body into your room with a thud. Hearing your mother call you quickly spoke “ sorry mom! I just fell! “ you looked at your clock. 10 PM, she'll be asleep soon. the whole thing that happened a few months ago had your mom spiraling, leaving your apartment a mess. you sneakily entered your mom's room and grabbed her suture kit and first aid kit. thank god your mom got paranoid after that whole crisis. opening YouTube you clicked on the first tutorial and got to work. your hands were covered in blood from suturing the wound. you bandaged it with a shaky sigh and leaned against your bed. your floor was all bloody now. ew. grabbing the mysterious man you would turn him over onto his stomach and start wiping the blood and grime off him with a cloth. or whatever skin?? you could hit. heaving him onto your bed you got to wiping up the floor, you were exhausted but the blood would only make more of a mess later. oh and your hands! ewewewew-! you rushed to clean them. luckily when you were gone the strange person didn't wake up. your scarred hands shook as you sat down on the far wall, holding the prosthetic. it wasn't like the man, no it was different. it had unreadable handwriting on it, you could kinda make out a ' p ' and an ' a ' you hummed and placed it down.

opting to fall asleep, the sun hit you in the face, causing your face to scrunch up before you woke up. you hummed in worry, the man had moved a bit but his bandage was okay, it hadn't bled through. Standing up you stretched and opened the door of your room and walked into the kitchen. grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge your attention was grabbed by a groan, turning your head you saw a shadow from your room " oh fuck ". grabbing the water you also snagged the ibuprofen. awake in your bed was the strange man you saved " Don't do that, you rip open your stitches and I really don't wanna do that again ". The man looked you up and down " how old are you exactly? " you snorted a breath " I'm 13 " sitting down and handing the water bottle you laid your head on your arms, which were folded over your knees. " what? " he snorted and you hummed " I dunno, a random man who I found bleeding out turns out to be a turtle " he cracked open the water bottle and drank most of its contents " don't do that, you'll only dehydrate yourself more " he grumbled and put down the water. " what happened to you anyway? someone does just bleed out like that and the missing arm? plus you had some weird orange specks on you. it was weird " the man grumbled " you wouldn't believe me even if I told you " you smirked cockily " try me, I've seen it all. from weird aliens invading New York to a bride crying on the subway " the man stiffened up at the mention of the invasion " oh Casey did it, I knew he could " you blinked " okay man you are totally out of it " putting your hand on his face you pulled back " EW you're all greasy! " you shook your hand a bit and huffed at him " you're buying me new a new bedset " he only chuckled at you, " 'Names Leonardo " you blinked and responded with yours. Leonardo stood up carefully and grimaced at his messed-up prosthetic. opening your bedroom door he waited for you to exit first. your living room was disgusting. and your parents were nowhere in sight " the whole alien thing was really hard on mom, she lost a few friends " your look saddened by it " But it's okay, I've been cleaning a bit. I just don't know how to deal with the bottles " Leonardo looked at you and took a deep breath and grabbed a bottle " You can just put them in trashbags, though people usually double bag them " you smiled and started collecting the trash. you grabbed the bags and walked to your fire escape and leaned over the railing and dropped the bags into the garbage bin. Leonardo plopped down and messed with his prosthetic, you watched him and yawned. you were exhausted, Leonardo hummed at you and watched you fall asleep. lifting you with an arm he plopped you into your bed and sat back down.

It's been two months of him trying to convince you to leave him alone, two months of him back to you every night like a hypocrite, two months of him worrying for your safety. Leonardo took in a shaky breath as across the rooftops he saw Raph linger, looking back to Mikey and Donnie, a portal opened next to Raph showing a younger him. his arm was missing and he wore a battleshell like Donnie. when did he stutter like that? something went down here that saved humanity but fucked up his family. He took in a shaky breath and felt tears roll down his face when he saw Casey walk through that portal. oh Casey looked so healthy, he looked like a vase glued back together sloppily, its cracks still showing but it was mended. Leonardo let a quiet sob escape him before disappearing into the shadows, Caseys look full of panic as he searched the rooftop...can Leonardo really go back? He's been here for two months but so distracted by you that he has forgotten about his original thought. walking to your window he plopped down on the fire escape and handed you a package, you opened it with a small smile, and a snarky huff left you " a knife? really? " he shook his head " you never know when you have to defend yourself, happy birthday kiddo " he ruffled your hair and you batted his arm away. " I'm not a kiddo I'm a teenager " you huffed and attached yourself to Leonardo, a soft smile fell onto his face. he pulled you into his side and looked at the sunset. He wondered if his own brothers were watching him? did they like you? he doesn't know if he'll be here with you forever but he wouldn't hate a future with you in it.

Leonardo was startled awake by a loud crash looking from where he fell asleep. your window was open and the light was on but where were you? slinking in he heard your desperate cries and a man's voice. sneaking out of your room he blinked at the smell of metallic blood. oh there lay your mother, lifeless blood leaking out of her neck. your desperate cries turned into a scream, rushing out he watched in horror as you clutched your side blood coated hands holding the knife you staggard in front of this person and let out a cry of relief as you turned and saw Leonardo, you let out a small breath and the person in front of you sputtered and ran out of your apartment. Leonardo rushed and grabbed your body as you staggard down. he cursed, fuck he had forgotten you used up all your supplies the other day. you were only 14, jumping out of your window he glanced at the manhole and took a shaky breath, time to face his greatest fear. he pushed it open and jumped down, does he remember the way? " why're we in the sewers? " your voice was rasped and full of pain. Leonardo took a deep breath " shh shh you'll be okay, keep your strength " you let out a cry of pain as the knife buried in your side jostled. He hurried along but paused at a camera, it was Donnie's camera. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called " They- they need help- " he stuttered out the camera turned and he heard someone rush down the hallway Casey stared at him, and the boy took a deep breath " Master Leonardo...? " you let out a whimper reminding them both of the situation. Leonardo shushed you again and looked at Casey " Casey- " the talking didn't reach your ears as your brain felt like cotton and god was sleeping so good sounding right now. Leonardo kept jostling your head to keep you awake there were voices, and you were placed in a bed. your breath hitched and you held it for a second before letting it go and repeating that. a small pinch spread through your body and your eyes opened. There weren't guts or..blood. You were all stitched up and lying on a cot. " hey, this was familiar " you blinked and looked at Leonardo " yes, yes it is familiar " he had a boy leaning on him and you stared " whos he? " Leonardo smiled " Casey Jones Junior, respectively " you grinned " His name is difficult sounding " said boy stirred " oh, you're awake " he handed his hand to you " I already know your name Casey, peepaw just told me " you joked and watched Leonardo scowl and ruffle up your hair " I should've left you to bleed out " he joked gruffly and looked at Casey with a smile " how long have I been out? " you heard a noise as a tall turtle walked in, spikes lined his shell and arms " A few days, my names Raph. " he handed a bowl to Leonardo as you sat up. Raph gave you a stern look and you waved him off as you took the soup, things felt good. you felt good.

[powpowexplosion]

a bit different from my usual content but i've been trying out making character edits so i made redesigns/headcanons of some of the demon slayer hashira !! :D

i'll put any changes i made under the cut but lmk if you like it or want to see any characters done first cause its really fun to do >:]

tomioka giyuu

i actually didn't do a ton of changes for him ! i like his design a lot but after seeing fanarts of him with a tan/curly hair/freckles i think it altered my dna a tiny bit so i included it :"] also gave him white pupils, red eyeliner (? is it eyeliner?? some kinda makeup i think) along the bottom corners of his eyes and added a fish-scale pattern onto the red side of his haori!! get it. fish scale. water hashira. yeah. i feel like it adds kinda foreshadowing too if u think about who he got it from (iykyk)

2. kanroji mitsuri

as much as i love love love mitsuri i feel like her design didn't do her a ton of justice !!! i really wanted to lean in to her pink color scheme since she's the love hashira so thats why i changed her haori color (and added sakura blossom patterns) but i also made her skirt a little longer/made the unbuttoned part of her uniform a heart shape (theres no way girlie isn't uncomfortable fighting in that), added a gradient/changed the blue on her socks, gave her more moles/heart pupils, made her hair into one big braid tied w/ a ribbon and with flowers woven into it !! also she has a more rosy skin tone now cause i feel like it works better with her palette. + i made her a lil chunky ^__^

3. shinazugawa sanemi

honestly he's one of my favorite designs so didn't change him a ton but i added a cloud pattern to his haori (it might have been too cropped to be one ??) and added more length to the hem, its just tucked under his belt :D also i edited his smile a little for a bit more spook factor (although i also think if he was smiling not-evily that it would make him look sweeter too so . depends on the circumstance??) i also added different types of scar tissue on his arms/face/chest because the way all of his scars were very harsh and jagged and the same color was kinda jarring imo even if im sure it was to make it easier on the animators which is totally cool !! however i did try to add variation :D

4. kocho shinobu

live laugh love shinobu!! i didn't change her a lot either but it was honestly a missed opportunity to not make her haori in the shape of butterfly wings so i edited it with that idea in mind to the best of my ability!! also i got rid of the shine in her eyes because i feel like cloudy eyes suits her character more... also added gold butterfly decals to her belt and changed the pink parts of her outfit to match her color scheme !! i think pink is more mitsuri's thing so i wanted to give her more purples :D also changed the gradient to just the underside of her hair being purple !! i like primarily dark hair on her more to be honest !!

anyways that's it! enjoy :D

[charnelhouse]

Your Harwin Strong reblogs are killing me 😩

Will you ever write for him? 👀👀

I wanna know what their first time was like, or how he felt when she said she was pregnant and the desperate sex that followed, knowing they could be found out —

A/N: Rhaenyra x Harwin Strong. Just 4 u. Lol this is more like a character study but OH WELL. A quick lil drab w/ smut.

It was a year into her marriage to Laenor. 

Her bed had been cold. The few times they had tried were fruitless. Of course, Rhaenyra had hoped that it would have worked. Laenor and her agreed on one night a month. Hardly a sacrifice. A blue star scattered in all the white. 

When it didn’t produce anything, Laenor chose his training grounds and the knights within it. Rhaenyra chose Syrax. 

She rode her every evening. Her lips would bleed and chap. Her skin would chafe raw and her hair would turn even more silver as if the moon itself had bleached it. In court, Rhaenyra felt her isolation profoundly. The foxes were drawing closer as she remained childless. 

Alicent continued to watch her with that thin, threatening smile. Her father was oblivious, practically falling apart on his throne. He smelled like death. It stuck to her clothes like smoke.

Her only true confidants were off in Pentos. Laena had married Daemon and that revelation had surprisingly hurt. Rhaenyra still felt it. A bruise of sorts that was burned right into her ribs. 

She didn’t blame them.

Instead, she dived. Syrax’s scales screamed gold under Rhaenyra’s palms. Her dragon roared so loudly the dark clouds shivered. Sometimes she thought of allowing Syrax to crash into the deep of Blackwater Bay.

Maybe, it would douse all that flame and heat and Rhaenyra had never not burned hot. She was all blood. She was one throbbing, desperate heart.

But her bed was cold. 

The current of Blackwater rolled beneath her. She glanced over Syrax’s horned skull to see the Red Keep twinkling with lights. She had to return home though the thought left her chest tight.

***

She stalked away from The Dragonpit. Her thighs ached from the ride. Her skin was still chilled from the wind. She attempted to shove her hair out of her face, but it was no use. Tangled. Messy. Alicent would no doubt have something to say about it. 

“Princess.”

The voice caught her off guard though she knew its source. The depth of it was one she had grown attached to. She turned around to find Ser Harwin leaning against the wall that led down to the pit. Tall and broad and golden. His eyes glinted blue. He strangely fit the backdrop of the Targaryen stronghold. She felt as if he could tame dragons if he truly wanted to.

“What are you doing here, Ser Harwin?” she smiled. He was one of the only people she liked at King’s Landing. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d swept her up on his shoulder at her wedding. His hands tight around her as he ripped her from the brawl. 

“Looking for you,” he said bluntly. “Your father told my father to come and fetch you for a rather important dinner you’re missing.”

Shit. She’d forgotten. It was for some distant Lannister relative she’d never heard of.

She cursed and he chuckled. “Perhaps if we linger long enough, you’ll miss it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “And have you leave the city defenseless? I couldn’t bear the guilt.”

They had done this before. The back and forth. The quips and teasing and innuendo. She had lost count of the number of times he was forced to run off and fetch her and how they then usually spent too much time bickering to actually return. 

He offered her a sly grin before stepping toward her. “I’d risk quite a lot for the princess.” He tipped his chin and his expression was inscrutable. Soft. Dark. Shadows.

Hungry. 

He was close now. She could smell him: wood smoke, steel, apples. She lifted her face to his and the moon slanted between them. She felt it on her skin and his gaze lingered. 

They’d never acted on this though it seemed like they towed the line daily. His palm cupped her cheek, his thumb pressing against her lower lip. “You burn hot, princess,” he murmured. “No matter how high you fly up there...how cold the sky is...”

She placed her hand on the broad one that gripped her cheek. “Do you worry?”

He cocked his head thoughtfully. “I’ve learned that worrying for you is a fool’s errand.”

That was the beauty of Ser Harwin. He never underestimated her. 

She studied his face. Why shouldn’t she have this? Laenor had his lovers. Why deny herself the one thing she wanted? 

He must have seen the decision in her eyes because he drew back an inch. “Rhaenyra...”

His tone wasn’t harsh. It held a slight warning, but nothing more. Warmth drummed beneath it. Desire. 

I see you as you were on your brother's name day hunt. Covered in blood and imperious.

I see you as you were then, as well. Grinning like a fool and skinning a rabbit.

She stood up on her tiptoes, fisting a hand into his curls and kissed him.

It was better than she hoped. He responded immediately, one muscular arm winding around her waist, his hand still firmly clutching her jaw. His tongue stroked hers as he pressed her against the wall of the Dragonpit. They were hidden in an alcove. No one around, but the rumbling breaths of the creatures below them. 

“Here,” she gasped against his lips. “Please. Here.”

The castle was too dangerous. Too many around. What an irony...

The rooms of the Red Keep were full of spies and ears while the outside world held their secrets. 

They were quick about it. She fumbled with his trousers while he shoved her skirts. He lifted her easily - just as smoothly as he had done when he saved her a year ago. She dug her knees into his sides as he lowered his hips before driving up and - oh 

He was larger than she expected. Overwhelming. 

The thick of him stretched and filled her. She dug her nails into his wide shoulders. She held on tight as she buried her face into his throat. He smelled deliciously human. Sweat and a bit of dirt. He eased out before sinking back into her. She choked. 

“Are you alright?” The words were tangled in his throat. His hands under her thighs and ass gripped her hard. 

“Don’t be gentle,” she replied, nipping his bearded jaw. “I want to feel you.”

[magnuficent76]

Okay god some fun facts about Melaine and zir's transformation because. I'm insane basically. Under cut because this does delve a little into body horror/fucky wucky medical malpractice territory !

◆ People think Mephisto is unhinged for turning himself into like 3/4s machinery counting the organs they replaced, but they never consider Melaine being just completely off the doorframe with the amount of shit she does to herself.

◆ She was always obsessed with the idea of a perfect lifeform, and she found it in bugs. Even before she lost Jonah she was actively working towards doing some fucked up experimentation on herself. It started with an obsession with dissecting things, then came the whole doing chemistry to achieve things never before dreamed of... girl hobbies.

◆ The mutagen ze eventually creates essentially works by reactivating particles in the skeletal structure (which are usually less active by the time you reach full maturity and die slowly with aging), and then giving steroids. The bone had to puncture out of the skin [which ze removed zirself and then left exposed with only some fucked up cloth around it for it not to get infected] and then reajust itself with both the humerus, cardio and ajul, since ze was basically making up new body parts for herself. The body didn't react all too well to the first transformation however so ze had to perfect the formula before moving on to zir arms and legs, so human experimentation was on the menu again babyyyyyy.

◆ Ze grew the green eye on the left side on her lab inside a jar, with the intention of mixing human eye capabilities with the mobility of a mantis eye, thus why the pupil is so small constantly. In order to actually install it, she had to burn the original eye [to make taking out its dried shell off the socket easier] and put in the new one really fast, so the nerves would still be fresh and could easily latch onto the new receptor. It was scary, being blind temporarily while it was healing, but it was worth it ! For science !!!

◆ I like to think that although her experiments are all obviously unethical, there's not ever miscommunication for what ze is doing. Melaine finds locally sourced freaks around the planetary system and asks them "hey, wanna be half bug" and depending on the answer, she brings them to her lab and give them more bones than they know what to do with. Most of them stick around, mainly because its free shelter, but also because Melaine is just... a nice boss. They get free superpowers at the cost of a little humanity, and then they also get a brand new spankin' job ? With paid vacation nonetheless ! Most of the big companies don't even offer that ! So ze has a bunch of goons around the lab at all times. Helps keeping the whole operation hidden too, all things considered.

◆ Her skin is REALLY weird now. Its a halfway mix of scales and really smooth human skin, since the keratin plaques growing on a lot of parts of her body are distributed kind of unevenly for now. The "metamorphosis", according to her, "Was never meant to be linear, and its okay that its not perfect yet. Larva need to grow into adults before the true glory of their form is revealed". It DOES hurt a bit to have them form but hey, anything for science.

◆ Nowadays, ze keeps zir head mostly covered with zir's cover-up hat thingie, since the chemicals ze uses are NOT good for the scalp, but the actual hair isn't really being mutated much at all. Sure, ze keeps it shorter nowadays for convenience, but ze still cares a LOT for it. Appearance may not be why ze started the mutations, but you bet your ass it means a lot to zem.

◆ RAVENOUS apetite. Due to her basically growing like every single day (and her current form is only technically an "intermediate" stage), she needs really high quantities of calories in order to remain stable, but sometimes she just... forgets. Technically she can go several days without needing to eat, even if it stalls the metamorphosis slightly, but its still considered safest for her to at least have one big meal every day. She forgets though– more often than she'd like to admit– because she's busy with other work. She runs around the lab every single day in order to keep up with progress on people's own projects, as well as keeping up with family, and just doing regular work as a doctor [More people would rather be treated by the giant mantis lady than die out in a desert, I imagine], so she just... doesn't remember her own necessities. More often than not her minions have to drag her to bed in order to get her to stop working on something.

◇ ...She used to have Jonah cook for her. Her food never tasted as good as when he made it for her, so maybe she just resents eating anything else that isn't made by him.

And das all heehoo !!!!!!!

[ghoulangerlee]

take aim by sleep token is 100% a sunshine song

ive been thinking about this all day since take aim came on this morning on the way to school. fic thing below the read more :) sorry if its a little wonky, i havent written in a couple weeks

sunshine x cumulus x cirrus :)

-

her hands are overly warm sometimes, fire bubbling beneath her skin in a way she can't describe; the heat of them leaving behind redness whenever she cups Cumulus's cheeks in them; she soothes it away with a kiss, a rush of cool air against hot skin.

Cumulus smiles at her, sweet and small, leaning in for another kiss as her own hands come up to rest over the backs of Sunshine's, pouring love and affection in through their bond until there's a low rumbling of a once buried instinct vibrating her chest.

she wasn't the type to purr before being summoned; fighting tooth and nail to survive in the pit, but something about being surrounded by love, by her pack, it makes her want to give into her inhibitions.

(and she does, sometimes. in the quietness of her bedroom, curled up together with Cumulus, her ear resting over where Cumulus's heart is strong, beating loud and steady in her chest.

she's safe here.)

sometimes sunshine forgets she's more air than fire, even though the fire rushes heady in her veins, her temper catching and making her the more volatile one between the three of them; cirrus-sunshine-cumulus.

they're a trio now, sunshine welcomed into their fold so soon after her summoning. she doesn't have feathers like Cumulus or Cirrus or even Swiss, instead, she's got patches of scaly skin hidden beneath her clothes, clusters of scales gathered in the hollow of her throat, creeping up the sides of her neck; they're a coppery color similar to her hair.

it doesn't bother her that she looks more fire than she actually feels, but sometimes she wishes she had the soft feathers that Cumulus has, downy and gently against skin.

even when Cirrus coos at her and nuzzles in under her throat, cheek pressed against her overly warm scales, a happy and content sound, she often wonders if Cirrus is just humoring her eclectic parts.

she remembers being summoned, the questioning nudge of a somewhat territorial fire ghoul; she knows what she looks like and what she had looked like to Dew when they'd first met, her curls fanned out like a mane, her wings spread wide; they weren't feathered like the other air ghouls, but leathery, marking her closer to one of His creatures than the other ghouls.

there had been a somewhat wild look in her eyes when she'd landed on the surface, excited to be out of the pits, ready to be part of something other than strife.

the girls had accepted her in almost immediately, staking claim to her in a way that had eased something inside of her; she wasn't territorial by nature, having two fire ghouls even one that's only somewhat half of one, could be tricky, difficult, but she was mostly air and for all of her vices that settled her down, evened our turbulent emotions out enough to make it seem normal.

to make her seem normal.

except when she wasn't, but this was something that the others, that her pack had come to love about her, attuned to her moods so intimately.

Cirrus and Cumulus were her rocks though. the ones who kept her steady, kept her present even when the heat kept licking at her skin over and over and over.

able to give a firm hand when needed, the two of them typically handled Sunshine with gentle touches, they weren't afraid of her, of what she could do if left unchecked, if the fire beneath her skin broke free from its confines.

Sunshine's eyes flutter closed and Cirrus chirps softly, pressing a kiss to the cluster of coppery scales against her throat as the bed dips and Cumulus fits herself right into the nest, curling an arm over Cirrus and resting her head on Sunshine's pillow as the scent of calmness surrounds them.

somewhere deep in Sunshine's chest, a ragged purr rattles its way out.

[the-lonelybarricade]

A Court of Faded Dreams: Chapter 52

Chapter Title: Watch the Flames Climb High Into the Night

Fic summary: In her grief after Rhys sacrifices himself to restore the Cauldron, Feyre accidentally sends herself back in time. Back in her human body, in her early days in the Spring Court, Feyre must be careful how she alters the timeline as she tries to save Rhys and Prythian from Under the Mountain.

Read on AO3 ⟡ A Court of Faded Dreams Masterlist

The second throne in the Hewn City was carved from the smooth black jade native to the mines beneath their feet, a more elegant twin to the unforgiving ebony throne beside it.

The sculptors had explained that they had elected to carve the seat from such valuable gemstone as a testament to the new High Lady’s grace and majesty. But with the long slit that ran along both sides of her shimmering black dress, stretching to the jut of her hip, Feyre felt convinced that the ancient sculptors had actually crafted the throne from ice.

Her bare thighs stung where they flattened against the frigid stone. She fought a shiver, casting a sidelong glance to her mate on the throne beside her. Though having a throne of her own was more dignified, she admittedly missed sharing one with him, if only for the body heat. If she was feeling flirtatious, she might have said as much to Rhys down the bond on the chance that he would offer to warm her up.

But if the stone against her skin was cold, her mate’s expression was colder.

The assembled crowd wouldn’t have found this unusual. There was an air of apprehension hanging in the room, as could only be expected by the unanticipated arrival of the High Lord and Lady. Aside from their wariness, the residents of the Hewn City continued mingling amongst each other as if this were no different from any other appearance from the Inner Circle.

But Feyre knew, by the way his grip on the armrest lightened the peaks of his knuckles, that Rhys was not wearing a mask today. Cassian, too, was stone-faced at the foot of the dias, standing warrior-ready beside a brutal, yet devastatingly dressed Nesta. She wore a gown of impenetrable black, its neckline skimming the base of her pale throat.

Those sharp eyes were narrowed, assessing every inch of the throne room, from the dark polished floors, over the stilted audience, to the towering carved pillars and the scaled beasts twined around them. But every so often, Nesta’s eyes flicked to Cassian. And her expression shifted towards a concern that mimicked Feyre’s own each time she glanced towards Rhysand.

Soon, Eris would arrive with the fate of Azriel in his hands.

Mor had volunteered to stay in Velaris with Elain, and Feyre certainly couldn’t blame her. Eris has once held the fate of her life in his hands, too. And though they could guess, none of them knew for certain what Eris would ask in exchange for Azriel’s safe return.

Feyre skimmed her fingers along the scaled serpent climbing up the arm of her throne, letting it guide her to Rhysand’s hand. His flinch was imperceptible, but she felt it through the bond. How that slight touch had jolted him back into his body.

He turned his head, violet eyes unreadable, and managed a sideways grin. “I missed seeing you in a crown.”

Feyre knew what he was doing. She indulged it, just as he had done for her many, many times before. A distraction, a tunnel out of the dark pit that threatened to collapse beneath him the longer Eris made them wait.

“You get to be the one who takes it off of me,” she said back to him, voice pitched low.

Rhys leaned closer, moving his hand from where their fingers brushed to trail his fingertips up her arm. “I’ll save it for last,” he murmured. His eyes swept the black tulle draped over her body like he was already deciding precisely the order he’d be disrobing her.

Her bones turned to hot, molten liquid. But now was not the time. Even when his damned fingers made her pulse flutter as they danced over her collarbone, up her neck.

“A shame we don’t get to share a throne anymore,” he said, eyes fixed on her mouth.

Feyre laughed. “You threatened to flay their skin from their bones last time there was only one.”

“I stand by it.” And indeed, he’d seemed to perk up at the reminder.

Until the towering doors to the throne room yawned open. In stepped Eris Vanserra, accompanied by two of his brothers who trailed in rank behind him like the smoke of a raging bonfire. He wore his signature arrogance, regaled in the finery of their court. He was draped in rich red and gold cloth, fastened at his shoulder by a jewel-encrusted brooch. A wreath of golden leaves emerged from his red hair, glinting off the faelights as he approached the dais. The brothers at his back were similarly dressed, each entertaining their best impression of Eris’s self-satisfying grin.

“Eris Vanserra.” Rhysand’s voice was a rumble of thunder bouncing off the cavern walls. “It’s been five centuries since I’ve had the pleasure of welcoming you to my city.”

“Yes,” Eris said, dragging his eyes over the faeries scattered around the carved pillars and banquet tables without bothering to hide his distaste. “A pleasure then, as it is now.”

His tone implied it was anything but.

Rhysand’s mask of cold amusement didn’t waver. He smirked as if Eris had made a particularly interesting first move in this elaborate game between them. “Let us resume this conversation in the council room.”

“My brothers and I are quite comfortable here,” Eris said, still surveying the assembled audience. The residents of the Court of Nightmares had already been dismissed to make merry, though all conversation and dancing had lulled, with not a single head turned away from the Autumn Court scions who had just refused an order from their High Lord.

Kier hovered near the front of the crowd. He, at least, had been given warning of Eris’s impending arrival, though from the scowl twisting his face, it was clear he considered the Autumn heir an unwelcome guest. When Eris met the steward’s eyes, his grin became especially vulpine.

“We were beginning to miss the nightly revels beneath the Mountain. How wonderful that you continue Amarantha’s tradition. Well,” his eyes dragged to Feyre, who tilted her chin beneath his assessment. “Some of it. Did he make you dance to sit in that chair, too, Cursebreaker?”

What game was he playing? Cassian stiffened. Feyre could imagine the snarl already curling back from his lips. He wore his anger more plainly in this court, unlike Rhysand, whose jaw had tightened. She could feel him treading against the angry riptide pulling at her through the bond, threatening to tow them further from the shore of reason. From the focus of why they were here.

She pulled her painted lips into a taunting smile. “Are you wanting to swap notes? I’ve heard you’ve done your fair share of dancing for a throne. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Another intricate dance to earn your High Lord’s approval?”

“I’m here to negotiate in the best interest of my court,” Eris said smoothly. His eyes twinkled. “As you’re aware, my High Lord is in possession of something the Night Court values greatly.”

That stirred a murmur through the crowd. Feyre didn’t need to poke inside their minds to know that the Hewn City nobles were speculating what Beron could have in his possession that would warrant a sudden visit from an enemy court. She could practically see them mapping out the game afoot, vultures circling overhead as they tried to determine what Rhysand had lost possession of, how Beron had acquired it, and whether it exposed a weakness ripe for the taking.

Rhysand waved an idle hand, as if Eris were talking about an artifact in a treasure trove and not his very own brother. “Yes, you said as much in your letter.” He sounded distinctly bored. “I’m keen to discover what Beron desires so urgently that he would send his precious sons to an enemy court during wartime. After your allies have attacked this very city, I’d sooner capture the three of you as prisoners for my own negotiations with your father. Cut out the middleman, if you will.”

The younger Vanserra’s bristled at the threat and, indeed, at the way the Darkbringer guards, positioned like rows of obsidian statues along the edges of the room, seemed to take a step forward, pressing them in.

Eris only flashed a pretty, cultivated smile, edged like a rough-cut diamond. “You would have no assurance that my father would keep his possession intact were you to resort to such archaic negotiations.”

All of the stars blinked out of Rhysand’s eyes. When he spoke, every word was laced with the velvet promise of violence. “Nor could I promise the same.”

From the far side of the room, the orchestra hidden in a screened-in mezzanine burst into song. Since Feyre had not given the order, and Cassian and Nesta were still standing stiffly at the front of the throne, she could only assume the directive had come from her mate to divert the listening ears away from the conversation.

Indeed, many of the listening nobles began pairing off and fell seamlessly into the music, while the remaining onlookers decided to at least filter to the tables under the pretense of averting their interest. Only Keir remained, listening to the negotiations through tightly pressed lips, his Darkbringers still lurking on the outskirts of the court, prepared should the meeting take a turn into violence.

What Keir didn’t know, and what Eris knew with enough certainty to keep a snide grin curled over his mouth, was that Rhysand would not be making good on any of his threats. Not while he risked Azriel’s life in doing so. But—did Eris know what he risked in threatening Azriel? Had Lucien made contact with his estranged brother in the time since the High Lord’s meeting, so Eris was aware the Night Court was a delicate ally?

He knows, Rhysand said, opening an antechamber in his mind for Feyre to slip through.

Then, just like that, Feyre was seeing the Hewn City through the eyes of her mate. She could feel the power thrumming through his veins, siphoning off the vast ocean of darkness that lay just beneath the surface, righteous and ancient and cruel. Feyre didn’t need to wonder just how deep that well of magic flowed. She had seen it when he’d poured every last ounce of it into restoring the Cauldron.

There was enough of it to hold the weight of creation in his palm, to meld it back together, to breathe life into existence. Her mate possessed the might to rival the Cauldron itself, and every ounce of that power was now concentrated on the male in front of him, who had the audacity to look Death Incarnate in the eyes and smile.

Azriel is safe, Eris was saying, voice like black smoke against the mental talon Rhys had curled around his mind. He came to us in rough shape, but I’ve been keeping my brothers distracted to keep them from inflicting anything worse.

Furious, rumbling darkness. Rhysand’s mental voice was unlike anything Feyre had heard from him before as her mate gritted out: Where. Is. He.

Carefully guarded beneath layers of stone and rot and about a half dozen wards, in the deepest layers of the Forest House. You won’t be able to retrieve him by your heavy-handed methods.

“I’m growing impatient,” Rhysand said out loud, gently pushing Feyre back into her own mind. His shields slammed tight. “Tell me your High Lord’s terms before I find a way to make this meeting more satisfying.”

The youngest of the Vanserra brothers shifted his weight, even Beron’s brood not impervious to the bloodlust seeping into Rhysand’s smile.

“He wants access to the Spring Court.”

Rhysand chuckled darkly. “Then he should have plundered something precious to Tamlin. The Spring Court, and what happens within its borders, are far outside of my jurisdiction.”

“True,” Eris said, “but you and Tamlin are allies, are you not? Even before he was taken Under the Mountain, your Courts had forged an alliance that has endured into this War. Perhaps you could influence—”

“Beron is a greater fool than I thought if he believes I can influence Tamlin’s stubborn ass to do anything. You may recall that our relationship has been… tentative throughout the centuries.”

Eris’s eyes sharpened, the amber flickering in the faelight. “I do recall. And perhaps, after all of these centuries, you are finally in a position to repay the Spring Court for the blood they spilled. If the rumors are to be believed, that is.”

Azriel. Rhysand’s mother and sister. Even if this negotiation was a farce, Eris knew where the fracture points were to apply just the right amount of pressure. Her mate’s fingers curled into the serpent’s head, baring its fangs at the edge of his armrest, threatening to crush the sculpture beneath his grip. Black, inky darkness roiled off of him, sinking down the steps of the dias, where it wafted over the throne room floor like steam curling off of hot water.

The darkness was benign, for now, but even so many of the fae scattered back as it pooled over the throne room, coating them in darkness. In rage. In grief.

Rhysand.

He didn’t respond. He kept his razored gaze fixated on Eris, who returned it with all of the burning fire that could be expected from an heir of Autumn.

“If you believe Tamlin and I have a relationship that involves trading sensitive intel, then you are mistaken.”

“When you called the High Lord of Spring for aid in the Winter Court, he provided it.” Eris grinned. “We ask only that you would do the same again. Ensure that the High Lord and his troops are occupied on a day of my father’s choosing, and he will return your priceless belonging.”

Betray Tamlin to see Azriel safely home? In another world, one that Feyre had lived, that sort of offer would have felt like killing two birds with one stone. But now, Eris was asking them to put the Prythian Alliance at risk. They would lose the support of Tamlin and his troops, as well as any of the High Lords who would deem this as too great of a betrayal to overlook.

Then, there was the question of what Beron wanted with the Spring Court in the first place. Access to The Wall, if Feyre had to guess. Which meant that agreeing to these terms would mean that they aided whatever Hell was unleashed on the mortal realm.

They could choose to accept, and warn Tamlin and the other Courts ahead of the chosen date, but then that would risk whatever retaliation Beron decided to inflict on Azriel.

We can’t agree, Feyre said down the bond, knowing that Rhysand had already long concluded the same. Her dread threatened to swallow her whole as she brushed a hand down her mate’s mental shields, colder than the stone at her thighs, darker than the wafting shadows coiling around her ankles.

He had an opportunity to save his brother, and he needed to turn it down for the greater good. But what cut more profoundly than that, what she knew was turning over and over like a spit in his chest, was that he needed to condemn Azriel to protect the very same male who had once played a part in tearing his family away from him.

Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.

That was a different Rhys, she reminded herself. One who had spent half a century alone Under the Mountain, who had lost all sense of hope.

“What day?” Rhysand asked, his jaw clenched tight.

Feyre snapped her head to her mate. Rhys. I’m willing to do whatever we can to bring back Azriel. But this would violate the treaty we signed at the High Lord’s meeting. This could cost us the War.

She winced, needing to say it. That the War should take precedence over his own brother. A hateful, ugly truth.

“It will be decided at my father’s leisure,” Eris answered.

We can find a different way to bring Azriel back. If Lucien succeeds in his mission—

“I will think on it.”

Eris’s face tightened. “You should consider thinking quickly. Like you, the High Lord of Autumn tires quickly of games. If you take too long, he might find a better use for what’s in his possession.”

With a flick of Rhysand’s wrist, the doors to the throne room swung open. Rhys sat back in his seat. “Scurry back to your High Lord, Eris. Before I decide to keep you here and renegotiate the terms.”

An idle threat, but one Eris had no intention to challenge. With a mocking bow, he turned on his heel and took several slow paces towards the door.

Then he paused.

Rhysand sat up.

Feyre wasn’t sure how to describe the shift that she sensed in the world. Like an earthquake, though the ground didn’t tremble, and the cavern didn’t shake. It was something more powerful, more otherworldly, a tremor that couldn’t be observed with the eye, but was felt all the same—rattling in her skull, in her chest, in her teeth.

A surge of power erupted in the throne room.

Eris cried out, falling to a single knee as fire leaked out of his skin, spreading over his body as though he’d lost all control of his magic. That flame crested, shooting to the cavern ceiling in a burst that was so bright, so powerful, that Rhysand threw his body protectively over Feyre like he worried the flame would reach them on the throne. Many of the faeries in the audience cried out, either scrambling away from the magic or winnowing from the room entirely.

The blaze slowly died down. Feyre lowered the hand she’d brought up to shield her eyes from the blinding light.

Now, she could see Eris rising to his feet before the entrance to the Hewn City, haloed in flame. His eyes were glowing, the brightest color of molten amber.

Eris cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice shook, but still carried enough to be heard throughout the cavern. “It appears that my father is now…” he swallowed, mimicking grief, or fighting triumph. “The High Lord of the Autumn Court is dead.”

No, he isn’t, Feyre thought, noting that the flame had melted away Eris’s wreath of golden leaves. Now, fire licked along the shape of his hairline, rising in a ring of small spires.

A burning crown of flame.

No, the High Lord of the Autumn Court wasn’t dead.

He was standing right before them.

[mumms-the-word]

Slayer

Day 26 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

Hoo boy am I behind anyway have a hastily written Freyr-and-Minthara-are-a-little-too-into-the-slayer-form fic for you bye

Check out my masterlist of BG3 fics!

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26. Using a new power for the first time

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“Minthara!” Freyr shouted, his stomach dropping as he saw Ketheric swing his hammer right toward Minthara’s skull. She deflected with her shield, but only barely, the force of Ketheric’s strength driving her to her knees.

Freyr swung his greatsword wildly at Kar’niss, cleaving off two of the drider’s spider legs in one go, rolling out of the way of the drider’s other legs as he screamed and lashed out. He had to get to Minthara before Ketheric could hurt her. He refused to let that rotting corpse get the better of him or anyone else with him.

His human form was too slow, too weak. If there was ever a time to test the limits of his Father’s gift—whoever his father was—it was now. Freyr flung his sword aside and called to the beast that lay fretfully dormant within him. His body bent and twisted, bones snapping and lengthening, flesh ripping and stretching. It was painful and delicious all at once, this transformation. Scales and leathery skin replaced his human flesh, spikes forcing themselves outward from his spine, horns from his head and his jaw. Two completely new arms erupted from his sides, tipped with lethal, black claws. He arched his back as the transformation ended, screeching with a new voice, his face a wreck of needle-sharp teeth and vicious mandibles.

Ketheric would die this day. He would die for good this time.

Freyr leapt across the roof of Moonrise Towers to land just behind Ketheric, lashing out viciously with his claws. Sparks flew where his claws met the metal of Ketheric’s armor, but they caught death-taut flesh, too, ripping into it and leaving deep gashes that oozed thick, rotted, blackened blood. Ketheric stumbled out of the way, turning to face this new threat.

If Freyr’s face were capable of grinning, he would. His entire body sung with zealous bloodlust, even as the battlefield around him offered very little for actual bloodletting. No matter. He would grind the bones of these necromites beneath his taloned feet and rip Ketheric into so many tiny little shreds that he would never be able to reform again. Freyr practically salivated at the idea. 

Ketheric bared his teeth at him and readied his shield but Freyr swatted it away with ease, unbalancing him. Ketheric responded with a heavy blow to Freyr’s side. Freyr felt his new ribs crack under the blow, but he barely felt the pain. This new form, this slayer body, was capable of handling so much more than his weak human form did. He screeched again, his voice reduced to banshee cries and guttural roars, and once more attacked Ketheric, driving him back toward the center of the roof.

Ketheric leapt back, out of reach of Freyr’s claws, and glared at Freyr from across the platform. “My Lord beckons me,” he said. “You have no idea what you’re meddling with. You’re a pawn—a slave—to forces you cannot comprehend. Even this mangled form is a testament to your ignorance. No more.”

He lifted his hammer. The entire structure of Moonrise Towers seemed to shudder and shake under the force of a new entity, until at last one of the smaller towers erupted in a shower of stone and brick, a colossal tentacle curling out from within. It bent closer toward Ketheric, snaking its way toward him.

“I am the Chosen, and you are nothing,” Ketheric said, taking slow steps backward. “Follow. See.”

The tentacle brushed against him and soon both disappeared in a flurry of black ash.

Freyr growled, as much as his slayer form could be said to growl. Behind him he heard the death rattle of the drider as someone, either Seraphine or Astarion, dealt the final blow against him. Around the roof, necromites collapsed in a clatter of useless bones. There was nothing else to shred or claw anymore.

Except…

Freyr shook his large, monstrous head quickly, banishing the frenzied thoughts. He refused to hurt Seraphine, Minthara, or Astarion. Well…maybe Astarion a little bit…

But as he turned to contemplate how much he could draw blood from the pale vampire, he found himself facing Minthara instead. She stood before him, splashed with blood both black and red, her own, Ketheric’s, Kar’niss’s, Freyr’s. Behind her, both Seraphine and Astarion stood, looking warily up at him.

“Gods above,” Astarion said. His expression seemed both impressed and deeply perturbed. “Look at you…”

“Since when could you do this, Freyr?” Seraphine asked. She tilted her head, frowning. “Assuming you’re still in there?”

Freyr rumbled, the closest approximation to a chuckle he was capable of, and gave a nod. Astarion suppressed a shiver at the sound. 

“As charming as you are, just make sure those claws don’t come anywhere near me.” He smirked. “But I must say, you do make quite the pretty pitfiend.”

Freyr growled. The temptation to swipe at Astarion was only growing. He fought to keep it down, turning his attention again to Minthara. She had yet to speak.

He cocked his head at her, trying to ask her what she thought without words. She gazed up at him, her red eyes staring unashamedly and without judgment. It was difficult for him to read her expression at first, but after a moment, her lips curled into a smile.

She reached out a hand to brush her fingers down the length of his arm, taking in the leathery skin, the new bumps and spikes. She hooked one finger around a long, curving claw, examining it with fascinated wonder. When she looked up into his face again, her smile only grew.

“You are exquisite,” she murmured. 

Freyr bent his head down, crouching his body slightly, bringing his face closer to hers, but she didn’t flinch. They regarded each other curiously and silently, Minthara drinking in every detail while he stood before her, breathing in the scent of her through this new form’s senses.

“Hm. It is almost too bad Ketheric fled before you could unleash the full might of this new power against him,” she said at last. “We shall have to rectify that.”

“Ah, sure,” Astarion said, lifting a finger. “Except that Ketheric seems to have fled down a big fleshy hole—and not a fun one, either. Can that new beastly form of yours even fit?”

Freyr lifted his head to regard the destroyed tower that the tentacle had emerged from. Astarion had a point. It would be very difficult to climb down after Ketheric in this form. With some reluctance, he relinquished his control over the slayer form. His body twisted and crunched inward again, another round of pain and pleasure, until he was at last standing before his companions again as a man and not a slayer. 

He flicked slick blood from his fingertips casually as he reoriented himself in his original body. “I’m glad you approve of my new gift,” he said to Minthara. He smiled darkly, rolling his shoulders. “I can’t wait to see what else it is capable of.”

“You will have your chance soon,” Minthara said. “And I will grant you many more chances afterward. But for now, we pursue Ketheric.”

Freyr gestured for her to take the lead. “After you, Minthara.”

Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh get a room, you two. Bloody psychopaths…”