#there is so much beyond liking how a dog looks that needs to be considered

[daycourtofficial]

The shapes of the shadows

Pairing: Azriel x Eris | WC: 2.4k | Warnings: body gore, body reanimation, minor character death

Summary: Beron’s death is both shocking and quick, too quick for Eris’s plans of succession. How far will he allow a rouse to go on and how much is he willing to overlook?

Author’s note: happy day one of @azrisweek !! This is my submission for creature feature day 🥰

READ ON AO3

Beron Vanserra was a hateful, angry male, who held a long tenure of suffering over his court. Centuries of cruelty extending to everyone within the borders of his lands, the utterance of his name enough to straighten spines. Those around him usually broke out into a cold sweat - from the heat that rolled off him in waves or just his presence, both were just as likely.

But most importantly, Beron Vanserra was.

That fact was abundantly clear as his oldest son, Eris, stared at his limp body. His father was a powerful, terrifying man who loomed over Eris’s life. Every moment of his existence had been colored by Beron somehow, every decision made because of or in spite of him. A grand figure in both memories and dreams, lingering just over Eris’s shoulder, critical of every movement.

For such a large figure, his death had been incredibly anticlimactic and almost boring.

Beron was telling Eris to move some Autumn soldiers into the southwestern region to secure the border before he just collapsed onto his desk. He continued to lay there as Eris assessed him, the reality he was faced with so at odds with every imagined scenario of his father's death. In the thousands of ways he had reviewed potential options, never once had he considered his father dying of his own accord. He didn’t think it possible - his father hadn’t even reached a millennia. He was too young to just die.

Eris tugged at the string in his chest a few times, trying to denote the urgency of this situation, how strange this all was. Meanwhile, the house stirred as usual, servants moving about, dogs barking outside.

His father was nearly done for the day, likely about to head off to a brothel he frequented after the sun had set. Now he was completely done with everything, Eris supposed.

He tugged the bond again, tugging his own hair at the same time. Was this really the end? His father’s body was paling, the skin becoming sallow quite rapidly. It felt too easy. Was this one of his father’s tricks?

Shadows swirled in the room, collecting in the corner as they formed the outline of an Illyrian male, the dark outline intimidating as the shadows swept out of the way, allowing their master to be seen. Eris’s mate, Azriel, materialized in the corner, his jaw set, ready to admonish his mate.

Azriel was the only known shadowsinger in Prythian, the first one in a long time. A title given by the shadows, bestowed with their powers for reasons beyond fae knowledge.

The shadows swirled around Azriel, keeping his body half hidden, ready for a quick departure.

A young boy chosen for the role, a host for the shadows to mold and play with whenever they wanted to.

“Eris, I’m busy I can’t-“ Azriel stopped himself mid sentence, unable to continue as he noticed Beron’s still body in the room. His wings flared out into a defensive stance, assessing the previously unnoticed threat. In a millisecond the shadowsinger had unsheathed two swords, prepared to strike.

But the High Lord didn’t move. He was slumped over his desk, his body flaccid and pale.

Azriel shouldn’t have stepped forward, should have left immediately, but he couldn’t stop his feet moving forward. A hazard of his job: an overabundance of curiosity overwriting his need for caution. Beron didn’t move, didn’t stir as Azriel approached and prodded at him with his blade.

“What did you do?” Azriel asked as Beron’s body moved with the blade, slumping back as he retracted it.

“I didn’t do this.” Eris defended, looking to his father in disgust. Azriel gave him a questioning look before looking back at Beron’s slumped form. Despite their mateship being relatively new and their secret meetings being months apart, it was no secret to Azriel that the sight before him was the only real goal Eris had been working towards.

“It’s too early - I don’t quite have the sway with the older advisors I want yet, and my father was in negotiations that would aid me.”

Beron was in a long dispute with one of his oldest advisors, some ridiculous feud spanning decades. It was finally coming to a close end, working out well in Beron’s favor.

If Beron was able to sign everything, it would allow Eris to have an edge with the male. A promise that would help smooth over the exchange of power.

Without that bargaining chip, Eris could expect a mutiny within a day. He needed the old males for a cleaner transition. He could just murder everyone, but reappointing every position so quickly would be tedious and tumultuous.

Azriel’s shadows slithered around Beron’s slump form, Azriel’s face becoming brighter as they abandoned him for their new interest.

In recent years, the shadows had begun growing curious - watching animals through the window and trying to form their shapes, figure out their biomechanics, wrapping around the legs of Azriel’s family to find out how they stood upright. Their first experiments were on the fae Azriel to torture - unbeknownst to him, the shadows would swirl and wiggle inside of open wounds, curious explorers of the fae body.

The dark tendrils swirled through Beron’s brown locks, going so far as to pick up his arms to watch them fall. Azriel and Eris ignored them, continuing on.

Azriel didn’t understand the full extent of Eris’s words, his mate never fully trusting sharing his plans to take over his home court, but he knew enough.

“Could you finish the negotiations?”

Eris scoffed, not even bothering to answer his mate’s stupid question. The Vanserra began pacing the room, trying to work through the sudden mess his father had left him. Of course his father would mess up his plans, dying unexpectedly just to ruin Eris’s day.

His brothers and the advisors would have a grand time over this.

The shadows dropped Beron’s other arm, testing the weight of it to see how many of them were needed to hold it up. Eris swiveled in his spot, a new target in the path of his ire.

“Azriel, stop messing around.”

“I’m not doing that.”

Eris glared at his mate, only to find him staring back at him, his face earnest. They both turned in time to watch Azriel’s shadows pushing Beron’s chest up, his neck not supporting the weight of his head, his brown hair flopping back and forth as he swayed. A rare moment that Eris Vanserra had nothing to say, his mind short-circuiting at the oddity before him.

They only watched as shadows poured into Beron’s mouth, an endless stream of darkness making his body nearly disappear. Moving like a wave taking over the High Lord, they filled him as much as possible, a few straggling shadows unable to fit in the cramped space, loitering on the outside. For a moment nothing happened until suddenly shadows had brought Beron’s body into an upright position, his chest swaying back and forth trying to orient himself.

The mated pair stopped their arguing, finally taking notice of the work of the shadows. It was an uncanny and disturbing sight. The shadows were in his cheeks and beneath his eyelids, moving his mouth and making him blink. They moved his jaw in an uncomfortable way, nearly breaking the bone as they made it unhinge as wide as possible.

Eris clapped his hands once, an action he used to break up fights between his hounds. They stopped their movements at the loud sound, but Beron’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes closed as his head tilted in Eris’s direction. For his credit, Eris did not flinch away and continued staring at the atrocity before him, thinking and considering.

“Can they make him speak?”

At Eris’s question, Beron’s open mouth had sound emitting from it. A low and deep resonance full of haunting filled the room, until the noise began changing. The note they emitted began going higher, reaching a sound that bordered on squealing before going back down again. They spent several moments moving through notes, searching for where Beron’s tenor lay. They eventually found it, trying out words in a voice so close to Beron’s it might have fooled Eris.

“Hel-lo.” The word came out choppy, a great pause between the two syllables. It didn’t have Beron’s accent, the hollow voice attempting to roll vowels to find Beron’s distinctive tongue.

Azriel swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, his mind conjuring images of his own death and reanimation. Would anyone even know he had died? Or would the shadows pretend to be him?

“It could work.”

Azriel eyed his mate, the plan forming behind his amber eyes a ridiculous one that Azriel was certain wouldn’t work.

“It’s just a few meetings. We train them, teach them what to say. How hard could it be?”

“I’ll have to stay nearby - I don’t think this large quantity of my shadows can manifest if I’m too far away.” Azriel did not mention that this large of a cluster would be impossible for him to control, too distracted by questions he didn’t want answers to.

Eris ticked his jaw, the powers of the High Lord slowly making its way to him, an invisible stream of power connecting him to his deceased father. He was growing agitated, the deep well of power inside him expanding and growing with each second.

“That’s fine. I have to work through this power surge lest anyone grow suspicious.”

They both looked back at the corpse, Beron’s lifeless eyes looking back at them before they went black with shadows.

-

The first day of the ruse was the most difficult, but they had made it through somehow. No one seemed suspicious of them or were too afraid to say anything. It was luck that Beron was expected to be out in a nearby town. Eris had discreetly sent word that Beron’s trip would be delayed, but made sure no one in the Forest House heard of it.

Eris and Azriel spent every available moment helping the shadows learn to speak and move. They got better at mimicking body language, the natural ways fae moved their limbs, replicating portraits of Beron to mimic his natural posing. It was eerie the way they would let his body fall when they grew tired, the pair having to explain to the shadows that they had to delicately drop the body to prevent bruising.

The sun had set on such a strange day, Eris retiring to his chambers as Azriel followed him in the shadows. “One more day,” the pair had whispered after locking the body in Beron’s office at night, returning in the morning with fresh clothes and damp clothes. They dismissed servants, having them avoid Beron completely through lies and misdirects. Eris���s brothers and mother avoided Beron at all costs on a normal day, an advantage to the scheme.

On day two, the shadows practiced standing and walking, holding Beron in an upright position. They had one meeting, Beron’s weekly meeting with the chief of house staff. Eris and Azriel lurked in a closet, listening through the door as the two spoke.

If they could pull this off, the shadows could fool the advisor, Lord Rothschild, into Beron’s outrageous deal. Beron’s chief of house staff was no fool - he saw everything, knew everything about everyone that came in and out of the Forest House. Save for the shadowsinger standing next to Eris.

Halfway through the meeting, a glass had shattered, a few shadows quickly coming in from the crack beneath the door, hurrying to Azriel’s ear. He listened intently, looking up at Eris and only nodding.

It’s going okay.

The door to Beron’s study opened and closed quickly. The knob to their closet door began twisting, opening the room to only find Beron’s slumped once again while a cluster of shadows danced before their master.

“They say it went well. That they had to yell at him, but he seemed convinced nothing was out of the ordinary.” The darkness coagulated, turning into a large blob as it moved through the air, happy with Azriel’s assessment.

“One more day,” they repeated back to each other when the shadows had accidentally twisted Beron’s arm in an odd angle when they let him fall and they had to snap the joint back into place to keep it from flopping.

By the third day, Eris was insulted that he had devoted so much time and energy to scheming when it took something so outlandish to trick Autumn’s advisors. Perhaps he had given too much credit to those who surrounded him, their intelligence a trick of the eye.

Lord Rothschild agreed to Beron’s terms, no doubt fuming behind closed doors. Their mission had been a success, but for some reason, Eris couldn’t quite allow himself to tell the shadows to disband. He had even complimented their work, causing Beron’s body to sway in their excitement.

“One more day,” he promised them, returning to his bedchambers to find Azriel waiting for him, newfound power coursing through his veins desperate for a release.

By the fourth day, the wounds were becoming harder to ignore, one so large in his hand maggots had begun crawling around. They hadn’t noticed, willing to open Beron’s schedule back up for a sense of normalcy. One of Eris’s brothers had nearly caught the maggot, his eye tracking the slight movement. Once the shadows had told Azriel about it, they were able to find a pair of gloves, covering the deceased male's hands.

For now, the shadows were happy, content at playing dress up beneath Beron’s skin. As the days would go on, it would become worse. His chest would balloon out, trapping all the gases of decomposition inside, extending his belly. Skin would begin sloughing off in pieces as insects made work of him, determined to get a piece of his flesh. His limbs were already becoming stiffer, more difficult to move, but that did not stop them from their life-size doll.

For years now, his shadows had been restless. Continuously annoyed at their own lack of autonomy, it would seem they found their own. Who could stop a shadow from holding the body together? Who could stop them from becoming the patriarch of the Vanserra family? The shadows had been with Azriel since he was a child. He was happy to look the other way to avoid the same fate for himself one day.

Banner by @tsunami-of-tears

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Azris taglist: @chunkypossum @the-darkestminds @mistandmemories @molcat07 @dnfhascorruptedme

[smallestapplin]

What transformer character of choice when seeing a giant prediction looking milf bot and be smitten? Cuz Giant buff women

Ya know what? Hell yeah, I can appreciate a milf.

Warnings : mild horny but nothing explicit but still 18+ only please!

-

-

Smokescreen has to hold a servo up when they first encounter you, leaving Arcee and Bee confused until he spoke, “Mark me down as scared and horny.”

He did get smacked for it, and then got smacked around by you when they approached or got to close to what you considered your den. You weren’t very friendly at first, until Optimus had to be called in and actually speak with you to let you know he and his team mean no harm. At least that’s what Smokescreen thinks what happened, he heard none of it and was busy staring at you in your robot form.

Despite the stern glare on your face plate, he was very much into this.

Of course once you considered the autobots your own, you were around more often and more or less had Smokescreen hanging off of you, your care for the team was beyond sweet for a giant predacon that towered over everyone. How you shift into your alt mode and curl around the couch to watch the tv with him and Bee.

If they can’t find Smokescreen he’s with you trying to figure out how preadcons court cause he needs you to be his yesterday, he is the text book definition of down bad.

-

Ratchet, two milfs they might kiss! At first like always he’s annoyed by you, how curious you seem to be over his tools and such, but surprisingly you two make a good team. Anytime someone is hurt you scruff them and bring them to him. He scolds and you stand behind him with a stern and disappointed expression, making whoever got hurt feel guilty for rushing in to a mission.

Your strength and power alone gets him smitten though he tries to deny it. You are very protective over the autobots and have shown time and time again how you are willing to risk your life for them, even if that means it’s your turn to earn ratchet’s scolding.

He’s not free though, he tries so hard to act like he hates and loathes when you pick him up and take him to his habsuite, just to curl around him in your alt mode and keep him pinned, he can’t work if his giant predacon spouse is laying across him. Stupidly finds your strength and height over him attractive, more so when you purr lowly and lean over him, trying to show him affection.

Ratchet gets too flustered for this.

-

Predaking, a list like this wouldn’t be complete without the King himself, and oh is he smitten. You, who are so strong and fiercely protective over your den in which he found you in, you, who actually stood a chance against him, growling deeply as you told him to back off.

It’s not surprising he returns to your cave and dropping mass amounts of energon at the entrance, your stern glance only makes his spark sing and oh by the stars how his tail wags when you accept his offering. Predaking like his big strong conjunx, you are so tender with the life living around your home, and so aggressive in battle! He adores he doesn’t have to hold back with you, know you can take whatever he can give you.

The only one who can command him easily with just an upset sound.

-

(Bonus round!)

Bumblebee took one look at your thighs, took one look at your size, and took one look at you and decided he already knew how he wanted to offline, if it is not by your thighs alone then he is a coward and weak. He truly is a little Bee buzzing around a great big dog.

Anytime you show up or the team finds you he’s sliding across the ground to close the distance, arms around your pedes and helm buried into your lower stomach. He’s very easy to pick up, but you honestly don’t need to with how he climbs you and sits on your shoulder with ease, always beeping happily.

He’s already told Arcee he is not going to survive your spike but he will try his damnest like a true warrior.

She’s already prepared to tell Optimus and Ratchet Bee went out the only way he truly wanted to, and that’s by a thick bot snapping his neck cables.

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[goddessesofeverything]

Your Song Fills the Empty Cracks in My Bones

Skully J. Graves x GN!Reader/Yuu

Yeah...The New Guy got to me...

If you'd prefer to read it on AO3, it's there too :3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/59525989

Halloween Town was alight with fright and mischief as its denizens eagerly buzzed around preparing for their cherished holiday. As the town’s band prepared a jaunty tune to liven up the spirit, they paused seeing a certain newcomer swiftly make their way right toward them. A jittery gait to his step, they watched him as he halted just a couple feet away. 

“Esteemed musicians of Halloween Town!” Skully J. Graves greeted with a bow. He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he rose. “So sorry to trouble you in the middle of your work, but might I inquire if you happened to spot one of the lovely dears that accompanied me pass by this way?”

The musicians looked to each other, not quite sure how to answer. 

“Ah, pardon me. I meant the one usually accompanied by the small cat.”

“Ohh…” the musicians nodded in understanding then. “Your little friend went that way,” the saxophonist jabbed a thumb to the direction of the town’s entrance gate. 

“Thank you!” They curiously watch as Skully bowed again, before speeding away to the gate. Through his glove, he lightly bit his nail as he waited for the gatekeeper to let him out of town. The musicians commenced their performance after he left. 

“To think of just walking out at such a critical time,” Skully muttered. “What could they possibly be doing…!”

Skully overheard his traveling companions mention that their “Ramshackle Prefect” was nowhere to be found after completing some of their given tasks. There’s still so much to be done, though! They couldn’t just simply up and flit away when Halloween was only days away. He made it his own mission to find the Prefect and hurry them straight back. I mean, it also wouldn’t do to wander off alone, of course. 

As he made it to the graveyard by Spiral Mountain, Skully began to hear something odd carried through the wind. At first, he thought he somehow heard the musicians back in town. But, no. It sounded like someone singing. 

Lala…lalaa…lalalalala…

Was it the screaming pumpkins? As he got closer to the mountain, the bespectacled boy realized someone was standing at its peak. What were they doing…

Ah. He could hear it more clearly now. The figure on the mountain was singing. He did not hear any lyrics. The tune carried vocally—melodic and haunting. 

He could see now. The Prefect was alone, vocalizing next to the moon. 

Perfect. Now he just needed to call to them, and bring them back to town. Yet, as Skully tried to make his way to do so, something itched at him. Something was against him doing it. He watched the Prefect be completely absorbed in their own world. Their voice carried out in a soft vibrato, and produced a sweet, yet melancholic tune. It was quite beautiful. 

…It couldn’t hurt to let the Prefect finish. 

Skully didn’t consider how awkward he must look watching from below. He couldn’t really care. Not when he was enraptured by this impromptu performance. 

The Prefect’s silhouette was captured so enchantingly under the moonlight. Like a shadow on the moon taking the form of a lone, dark ghoul. Lamenting its sorrows to the piercing night. It only added to their loveliness. All the while, their voice carried through the graveyard, sharing its woes to the beyond. Skully, though, was the only one with the honor of being a living, breathing soul among them. Captured by all the Prefect gave them. 

Yet, it was over before it even began. With a final note, the Prefect had already ended their song. Skully sighed in bliss as the proverbial curtains drew to a close. But, that felt much too fast! Perhaps he could request another…

Both Skully and the Prefect were snapped out of their trance with the familiar bark of a certain ghost dog. 

Adrenaline kicked into Skully, and he dove behind a gravestone large enough to hide his tall figure. Zero whooshed past him, barking for the Prefect’s attention as he floated up the mountain. 

“Hello, Zero!” the Prefect cheerfully greeted the ghost dog. Skully peeked from behind the grave to continue watching the two. Zero was enthusiastically nuzzling into their affectionate pats. “What brings you here?”

“Bark bark!” Zero gestured his head toward the town. 

“Oh, are people looking for me?”

“Bark!” Zero nudged at the Prefect. 

“Okay, okay, boy!” They spared one last glance to the moon, before a small sigh escaped them. “Guess I gotta go back now…?” 

The Spiral Mountain unfurled itself so that the Prefect could walk down. With a kind smile, they thanked the animated mountain, and quickly made their way down the mountain. Skully shied away into the shadow of the gravestone, watching on as the Prefect followed Zero back to town. 

As the duo trotted away, Skully let out the breath he subconsciously held onto. Leaning back against the gravestone, he grasped at his chest, feeling his heart flutter in a flurry of emotions. 

Could it be…

He just emulated his beloved idol! To be captivated by the sweet, solemn music as the one who’s captured your heart serenaded you atop the Spiral Mountain…It’s just like the stories said! Skully could feel his face warm in elated joy. His hands made their way to cover his cheeks, and he lightly bounced in place like a giddy school girl. Truly, his lovely dear was a blessing—inadvertently granting him a chance at recreating such an iconic moment in his own story. Does that mean he was the esteemed Sally to the Prefect’s Pumpkin King? Or was it the other way around?

Doesn’t matter!

Rejuvenated by his self-affirmations, Skully readjusted his glasses and suit, and began a cheerful gait back to town himself. Plucking a dark rose from a lone bush on the way. He had to thank that sweet, lovely dear for the performance of a lifetime, after all. One he so gladly was a part of, whether they knew it or not. 

It must’ve simply been meant to be. 

[theexaltedbride]

Rabbit X Human Female Reader Headcannons (NSFW)

-Rabbit has once used his enhanced speed to slap and play with your ass and your breasts like they were bongos. Though if you tell him its too rough on your breasts he will be happy to just play music off your ass with his hands like a skilled drummer.

-If you ever show him that one knife fight scene from the Mask of Zorro, Rabbit would be happy to recreate it with you. his speed lets him be much more careful with things, even if it looks like he's moving recklessly. He's fast enough to deflect and dodge bullets, cutting clothes off without hurting you would be easy.

"You can consider it a reward if you do well in our actual sword training sessions together." He will tease you, and study the scene to see how he might be able to mimic it or improve it. The real challenge will be for you to strip him. At least he's durable so he can handle a cut or two.

-Rabbit can actually open his mouth very wide and likes to show you how much larger his tongue is to that of a human. Yes, your Rabbit gladly eats ass and will eat pussy like a starving man being given a birthday cake. He's not a coward about it the way some men are and treats it like someone saying they hate eating candy.

"More for me then!"

He's also skilled at using that tongue for more than giving speeches or sampling tea. He will do things to your clit that no human ever could. When he hears that many men struggle to do even that much it draws a laugh from him.

"How is it you humans say it? Ah yes! 'Skill Issue'."

Whenever you say how he is getting on your nerves and pushing your buttons, he likes to reply. "I know how you make you feel better, I just need to push one specific button." To which he will then lick his lips with his tongue or make some other kind of gesture with it to really hammer home what he means.

-A few times now Rabbit has wanted to chase you, just to really burn his stamina. You can only do it on Earth where he knows a random demon won't try to kidnap you. But each time he does it he gets such a rush, his cock throbbing, practically leading the way for him, and veins pulsing with need as he gives you a five to ten minute head start to run naked (save for some shoes or sandals to protect your feet from twigs and rocks) through the woods before he runs after you at the speed a rabbit is known for, getting his blood pumping, and his desire for you only making him want to catch you all the quicker. Once he catches you, his tongue will plunge into your throat, as his cock plunges into any available entrance.

Sometimes he can't even manage that, and just settles for grinding against you, his truly feral side coming out as he barely speak beyond huffs and gasps of pure desire.

And all of that desire, that lust, that need, that love, is directed solely at you.

-Sometimes when Rabbit is eating you out, his nose will press against you and it is surprisingly cold, which creates such a contrast with his breathing because his breath is hot (and only further throws you for a loop because his fur is smooth when it brushes against your thighs).

-Shower sex is entirely possible with Rabbit, he's not a canine so he doesn't produce that 'wet dog' smell, especially if using actual soaps when on Earth (and honestly that kind of experience is only possible on Earth).

-If you want Rabbit to be a Daddy Dom in the bedroom he certainly can be, and can deliver spankings like nobody's business. Just with his voice alone he can set the tone, and his demeanor can go from posh and proper gentlemanly, to stern daddy at the drop of a hat.

He will however refuse to spank you with anything but his own hand (either with gloves on or gloves off). He cares for your safety and won't risk accidentally hurting you with a paddle or belt because he's too strong. He will also only play like that in the bedroom. He has an operation to run and will not have his authority questioned by anyone because he can't keep it in the bedroom.

If you get too excited during your 'punishment' he will take notice and run a single finger along your lips before bringing it up to his mouth to taste it.

"Naughty girl, who told you to make a mess? I certainly didn't. That will be ten more spanks for each cheek, and I expect you to count them out missy!"

-Aftercare cuddle time is mandatory after anything rough and even more intense lovemaking. He knows he can be intimidating and wants to make sure you're okay.

-Rabbit sometimes has a thing for keeping you naked in the bedroom while he wears a suit. Your body is entirely exposed to him, and he can enjoy every part of it, its one of the few times he enjoys making a mess of his suit as you lunge at one another and really go at it.

-Rabbit explicitly refuses to have sex with you after a battle, especially if a human was killed. He does not want to associate these emotions together. Sex is sex, fighting is fighting. They should never mix. You are his source of comfort, and he doesn't want to poison that.

-Once you and rabbit were making love in his office in Makai when a demon burst in demanding to discuss business with Rabbit (something about wanting something special smuggled from Earth to Makai). He'd been told he had to wait, and refused to do so. Now he'd burst in, and Rabbit had to adapt to the situation.

Rabbit locked eyes with the demon, and kept thrusting his hips as he laid you out on his desk.

"It can wait until my current meeting is finished." He told the demon, and you. But with how his thumb stroked your hand, you knew he had a plan.

It was a display of dominance. If he backed out or cowered or tried to cover up, then he would look weak and other demons might think they could get away with this kind of behavior. So, he kept going while locking eyes with the intruder and didn't truly speak to them until he'd had his orgasm (A little bit after he'd made you gasp beneath him, to further show his talents and skill). The demon had intruded trying to put Rabbit on the backfoot, and was left feeling awkward and embarrassed as rabbit turned his own trick around against him.

No one ever tried that again with Rabbit, though you suspect he might actually enjoy pulling that trick again.

-At his most excited he puts new meaning to the term bunny hopping' when slamming himself into you. Its like he's a speed demon (well...technically he is?) and the only thing to calm him down is reaching three or four orgasms with you. His refractory period is insane, but he's got enough control to not let it be an issue.

This also applies to when you are riding his cock (be it cowgirl or reverse) and Rabbit suddenly gets it into his head to thrust upwards and use the bed to help give him some extra bounce in his movements, and really get you bouncing on him.

-Rabbit once tied the end of his monocle chain to a nipple ring on the same side of his body. He's not sure if he likes it, but is waiting to see how you feel on it next time you're intimate together.

-Not many demons can safely give oral sex, so it has become one of his favorite things from you, especially if you stain his body with your lipstick. It really gets the rabbit flustered, because his white fur is like a canvas for you to paint.

-When it comes to sex toys, he's not much of a fan.

"I can satisfy you better than any piece of plastic. That being said, there is one I do like." He says as he clicks a button for a remote controlled vibrator hidden inside of you.

"I do love to hear you moan."

-Rabbit didn't fully understand human menstrual cycles at first. But once he did, he began to save something special in mind for the day you showed signs of being genuinely pregnant with his Kits, he will make a comment to you of.

"Alice, you're late."

Any punch or kick or thrown pillow his way to silence his laughter will be utterly worth it. If he realizes he's going to be a dad, he's going to stock up on dad jokes, the worse they are the more he will tell them.

(And if you're into it, he will absolutely tease you about how many Kits you're going to make together. Rabbits are well known for multiplying.)

-------

Couple playlist.

"Better than Drugs' ~Skillet.

'Separate Ways.' ~Journey.

[wayfayrr]

"Wait no you're not supposed to get hurt."

First of the 400 follower raffle winners!!! took a little longer to write than planned but it's here! This is for @the-moon-files and it's masc!human!reader with the chain, it doesn't touch on all of the hcs I have for humans/hylians but it's made very clear that there is a difference :3c

[masterlist]

“Um, [name]? Are you sure you don’t need a potion, that gash you got on your leg seems like it’ll get infected if you don’t use a potion or anything other than bandages.”

“Thanks for the concern sky but-”

“Yes, I know most potions don’t work for us. It’s why luv and bertie spent so long perfecting recipes that have any positive effect.”

Us? US? After months of traveling with the chain, having to explain new differences between me and them sky decides to drop a bomb like this???? Is he messing with me or something? My face must have said exactly what I’m thinking considering he pulled back with a nervous giggle. 

“I forgot to mention it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you did. It would have been very nice to know I’m not the only human here earlier.”

“Sorry, I was so happy not being the only one anymore that I forgot… to actually tell you. But really can’t this whole thing wait until we’ve dealt with your injury?”

That’s fair, I’m still a tad bitter over it but I can understand. He’s got a look of guilt and concern on his own face now, his hands twitching and half reaching for the gash on my leg before pulling back reluctantly. Begging for my permission to help with puppy dog eyes glancing back and forth simply begging for approval. Hopefully he hasn't noticed that it's a bit worse than just a gash.

“If you’re sure that it won’t just be a waste of supplies then go ahead I guess.”

“I’m certain it’ll help you, not as much as it would the traveller or the champion but it’ll help.”

The potion feels strange in the wound as he goes about applying it, it’s almost similar to antiseptic but with less of a sting. Not anything like what I thought with how the other links down them like it’s honey or something, maybe they just taste a lot better than they feel. Maybe they’re just different for humans. No way to really tell. Before long he’s finished with that though, moving on to simply bandaging it. 

“Skyyyyyyyy you’ve been over here hogging his attention for ages when are y- oh I…”

It seems wind didn’t notice the reason sky’s been ‘hogging’ me then, does that mean that sky was just watching me in the battle. Probably just cause he’s enamored by not being the only human now, nothing to look into beyond that. I’m overthinking it. 

“[name]? When did - Twi said humans are invincible, how did you - how did they - You’re alright right?”

“I’m alright kiddo, sky’s just been helping me with some of his own potions.”

“Wait twi’s been saying what?”

Seems Sky’s just as shocked as I am, he wouldn’t have said anything otherwise, so this isn’t commonly known. Or true but that’s another thing. Was it his attempt at getting wind to not be so wound up that most potions and magic is about as effective on me as carrying water in a sieve. But that just means that if something were to happen, like maybe y’know - right now, he’s going to get more messed up than otherwise. Twilight wouldn’t do that, he’s a bit dense sometimes but he loves the sailor like a brother. Does that mean this is just something he believes himself? He grew up in ordon it’s not impossible.

“Wind please when did Twilight say that?”

“He said it when we found out [name] is a human, why are you so bothered by what twi is saying about him?” 

“I think sky is just worried about any rumours going around, no need to snap at him for it.”

“Yeah, just worried about rumours, yeah.”

“Well if anyone should be worried about those ‘rumours’ it should be ME - what if… what if you got hurt worse… we wouldn’t be able to - we wouldn’t know… even if we were to use a potion it'd just blend in with your blood and we could miss places...”

The exact reason why twilight shouldn’t have told wind this is happening right now, and I don’t know how to comfort him. He’s crying and stressed over me getting hurt despite sky-treating it, despite me being fine. It’s not like it’s just wind upset either, I don’t think I’ve seen sky so stressed in all the time I’ve known him. It’s almost like he’s been caught in a lie, wait now that I think about it his ears look hylian, has he not told the chain either? Too many questions and not enough time or words to get all the answers. And he knows I want them.

“I- I’m going to tell wild that he’ll need to make some more potions. I’ll send twi over as well if he’s not busy with anything else. Your leg should be fine now, just don’t move too quick or take the bandages off unless it’s to replace them with clean ones.”

And now sky’s gone, leaving me with an overwhelmed wind. Who looks honestly more confused over Sky leaving the way he did than upset over me being hurt, which is somewhat of an improvement I guess? It’s better than having him stressed out over a little gash. 

“Was it just me or was sky-”

“Really nervous? I’m sure he’s got a reason to be kiddo, who knows maybe he’s just anxious over me getting infected.”

“INFECTED!?”

Oh, I should not have said that, it’s like wind didn’t even consider that that could possibly happen. And now I’ve sparked his worry all over again. 

“hey I didn't mean to -”

“If you can get infected we've gotta be extra careful and and - [name] we've gotta tell time before he pushes you way too hard and something else happens.”

“Nothing else is gonna happen, I'm fine I promise you that.”

How long is he going to be pouting over me getting injured, it’s not a big deal, I’m not going to die or anything. 

"What're you two doin' that's causin' Sky to act up like some cuccos durin’ a lightnin' storm?"

“IT’S CAUSE [NAME] GOT INJURED, HIS LEG GOT CUT.”

His ears drooped faster than wolfies tail would start to wag if you offered him some pets. Which proves the fact that twilight wasn’t telling wind a lie to make him concerned for no reason, he genuinely thought that humans couldn’t be hurt. I - don’t really know what to think now, I mean it is good that it wasn’t him lying intentionally but how long has he lived with humans, how long has he had to learn that this isn’t true??? He’s what 24? Has Rusl or no one else gotten hurt in any of those twenty-four years? 

“Ya - ya got hurt ‘nd didn’t tell?”

“Well sky was helping me and then-”

“Neither of ya thought ta tell? Y’ain’t think I shoulda known?”

Is - is he going to start crying? I knew twi was pretty soft-hearted but to start crying over me not thinking to tell him about just a small little cut into my leg? Why’s he so personally offended that he wasn’t told any sooner, does he really care so much about someone he’s only met recently? 

“I mean, I thought that’s what sky was going over to you for?”

“I well yeah, yer right, that’s part of why he did.”

“Hey are we missing the point!? [Name] got HURT when you said humans were near invincible!”

“That really isn’t the important thing right now wind, I think twi only said that so you wouldn’t worry about me. Right?”

Go along with it, see on my face that I’m trying to get you to go along with this so that wind doesn’t get more stressed and just go along with it. Please. If he doesn’t then I will never be able to move on from this, and I don’t think that anyone would appreciate being lectured for something that you genuinely have no control over. 

“Right?”

“Ah righ’, wind you know I were only sayin’ that so you wouldn’t worry, yeah?”

“Oh sure you say that now, but before it was all ‘Humans were blessed to be invincible by the spirit ordona because of the goddess hylia’s hatred of them.”

“Aigh’, and I was tellin ya that so you won’t worry.” 

Well wind clearly doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t sound certain of himself either to be honest. But the sailor seems to be done stressing over it now, ran himself out of energy it seems. Nuzzling into my side with a pout. 

“Come on kiddo, it’s not worth a grudge with one of your big bros.”

No response, But a very disappointed twi now. Offended from me not apparently telling him fast enough or whatever, which just feels like a weird reason more than anything. Besides even that it’s not like he’s known me long, he really shouldn’t be as bothered as he is. 

“Wind please, I don’t think it’ll do me any good staying on the floor like this either.”

“...f’ne.”

Hinting at something worse happening did just the trick as I hoped and got him up onto his feet, while giving me the silent treatment as twi helps me to my feet. Just gotta hope that the break won’t get any worse now that I'm standing. Or noticed. I’m already lucky enough that sky didn’t pick up on it, because I know that the second anyone learns it’s going to pull us all to a halt. Hell for all I know he’s hiding that he saw it to go tattle on me to time, never would have known that he could lie so well so I can only hope he won't use it like this. But what do I know, he could do anything just to get some extra sleep in.

[alexanderlightweight]

Hello hello and happy Wednesday!! I hope your week has been good and continues to get better! I’ve been reading through your ao3 page and was wondering if you have anything for “all your cracks I’ll paint gold”? It’s one of my favorites! If not then consider this a free space to write whatever you want! Sfw/nsfw I don’t mind either! What’s something that made you smile today? Mine was my dog being cute while I brushed her she does a BIG stretch everytime I get to her back legs!

It has been a long week? like I don't even know its just been one of those weeks. the only thing getting me through it is writing? so at least there is that ^_^ and Nightshade who ensures I get plenty of cuddles and exercise.

Say stopped a bakery and got me taro and red bean buns which was really sweet of them and made me smile! and Nightshade got so upset that I left him at home today that we had to sit together on the ground because he kept knocking us both off of furniture with upset zoomies... in my lap lol. that sounds adorable, I love stretchy-paws

i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

all your cracks I'll paint gold

Alec’s place in the shadowworld is no longer certain and he knows that, yet despite how he should feel adrift, he feels nothing but certainty. 

Alec belongs to Magnus, in a way beyond the ties of Alec’s once-oaths to the Clave or even his tether to Raziel.  If Alec has a place in the shadowworld, then it’s simply to be and exist at Magnus’ side.

Alec is more than a husband, a lover or even a consort to Magnus.

He is Magnus’ devotee and his adoration for Magnus is what now ties Alec to the lifeblood of this realm and the power that binds it together.

Still, there’s no actual name for what Alec is now, or the place that he currently fills in Magnus’ life.

In fact Alec is pretty sure that the only reason they’re not going with just ‘consort’ is because Magnus didn’t feel that it was elevated enough.  And considering it’s his magic and power and the demonic runes of his bloodline that keep Alec whole and hale, then Alec is fine with him creating a fancy title or whatever Magnus wants to do.

As long as Alec has veto powers.

Alec is not going to let Magnus get away with making a pun that they’ll both have to live with for the very long rest of their lives.  Alec is only just beginning to enjoy living again and looking forward to the future, he doesn’t want anything to threaten that.

Especially not Ragnor’s naming sense and Magnus’ love for puns.

Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like it will come down to Alec needing to use his veto. Magnus returns from whatever library he threw himself into four hours before and there is so much delight in his face that Alec knows whatever Magnus has picked will be what he accepts.

Even if it is something terrible or a pun.

How could he not? When Magnus looks so breathlessly happy and utterly thrilled.

—

Of course his Alexander is on the roof.

Magnus wonders why he even bothers to think otherwise or look elsewhere and summons a portal accordingly.  His feet feel as though he’s walking on the breeze.  The mood boosting him and buoying every step the closer he gets to his sweet Alexander.

It took a rather long time and Magnus had to go through the archives of what titles had been lost to time, left unused, could be recrafted or just what he could use that would be sure to give Alexander a place of honor.

A title to bear with the same pride — if not more — than he did his title of bloodied shadowhunter and runed Commander.

All doubt flees the moment he sees Alexander’s gaze.

It’s soft and indulgent and so loving that Magnus knows he’s won without even trying.  Perhaps it would be a sad victory for someone else, but the fact that Magnus has won what he wants simply by being so excited that Alexander won’t say no, it thrills him.

Who else has ever cared for something as simple as stoking Magnus’ excitement rather than dimming it?

Besides Catarina and Ragnor of course.

Magnus can hardly take time to breath, the need to hold and touch and feel Alexander beneath his palms and magic is suddenly too intense.

The runes that have been seared onto Alexander’s skin go soul-deep and Magnus can feel the mutual longing engulfing them as they finally meet again.

Even just a few hours seem endless when it takes Magnus from his boy’s side.

“Beloved— Magnus greets and Alec kisses him without hesitation or comment, just a soft delighted laughter and the press of dry, sun-warm lips to his own. “I have—” and then Magnus has nothing to say because Alexander’s arms are around him and Magnus has better things to think about.

Like how Alexander smells like moss and sunshine and the sap of his favorite tree and Magnus nuzzles against him, breathing deeply and just letting everything in and around him settle.

A few moments pass as they sway in place and then Alexander presses a gentle kiss to his jaw and nudges Magnus with his nose.

“You have?”

His voice is deep and teasing and Magnus would love to let himself drift in the sweetness of the moment but alas, duty calls.

“I have you, darling. My consort, my love, a devotee to my very soul and the unholy blood in my veins, my archon.”

[chuuyaspinkmotorcycle]

Day 27: Corruption

Fuckkkk, Chuuya won’t miss the last time he has to use Corruption.

…/If/ that ever happens.

The amount of threats that actually need him to use it are far and few between nowadays, especially with the addition of Shin Soukoku’s new attacks that don’t render one of them half-dead like Soukoku’s, but every so often some bad guy sweeps through town strong enough to even have him and Dazai being summoned to the scene together.

Chuuya swallows, trying not to hack up a lung when a blood clot from his earlier bloody nose seeps down his throat. His clothes are beyond ruined at this point and his arms are too tired so he doesn’t even try to cover his mouth. The brick wall he’s been propped against is tilting a little too dangerously – from an earlier attack by someone’s ability – for his comfort, but it’s not like he can do much about it.

If the bricks fall, he’ll stop them. Maybe. Probably.

He just wants to go home and sleep for at least a whole day.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there. I leave Chuuya for two seconds and he’s trying to die on me again,” Dazai placates like he’s some /dog/, jogging the last few steps to him. The brunet is wearing Chuuya’s hat on his head and the fingers of one of the redhead’s black gloves sticks out from his coat pocket. Chuuya wipes the side of his mouth, watching as Dazai pulls a water bottle from his coat’s other pocket and uncaps it before handing it to him. “Don’t drown yourself~”

“Says the mackerel.” His voice comes out raspy, barely audible but the smirk Dazai sends him tells him the brunet heard. He takes a slow sip, breathing out a sigh before chugging as much as his body will let him.. Water has never felt as good as the times after Corruption, when his voice is scratched raw and just breathing is a chore for his windpipe. Clearing his throat to test it, he asks, “How much longer?”

“We’re free to go,” Dazai responds, waiting in front of him with his hands in his pockets. “Mori-san took your coat and has graciously given you a few days off as a reward for being such a loyal dog.”

Also known as ‘Dazai asked therefore Mori approved’ because God forbid Boss says no to ‘the Mafia’s final executive to come.’ As if that’s ever gonna happen.

Dazai’s smirk twists into that one that tells Chuuya he read his mind just then. “Chibi’s cranky.”

The redhead scowls back. “No shit, Sherlock. Hurry up and carry me already.”

“So feisty~ How does the pretty princess want to be carried?” Dazai squats in front of him, leaning within arms’ reach of Chuuya.

“I’m not– honestly, fuck you,” Chuuya grumbles, not even bothering to punch the other. “Do whatever you want, you shitty bastard.”

Of course, Dazai has the audacity to beam at this, already moving to adjust Chuuya into whatever way he wants. He swears he even hears a little giggle from the brunet as he shifts one of Chuuya’s legs.

It’s going to be a long walk back home.

Chuuya hisses as Dazai, still facing him, goes to move one of his arms behind his bandaged neck, the muscle pulling in a way that sears too much to be considered uncomfortable. “Wait–!”

“Where?”

“Bicep, close to delt,” he grits out, forcing himself to breathe as the knot or whatever is wrong with his arm continues to flare. Dazai points at the location given, dead-on in his accuracy. Chuuya manages to nod, watching as nimble fingers find the perfect spot to apply the right amount of pressure in massaging caresses that have shivers running down his spine.

He sucks in a breath when Dazai’s finger moves in just  the right way to alleviate most of the pain in one go. After Chuuya releases a shaky sigh, Dazai looks up. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

Dazai returns to maneuvering him into the right position, wrapping Chuuya’s bloodied arms around his neck and scooping under his thighs. Dazai, right in his face, grins something young and fond. “Just like old times, partner.”

With that, he hoists them both up, Chuuya sinking further into his arms as Dazai steadies them. The pop Chuuya hears from his knee has him grimacing with a squint sent at Dazai, but the man doesn’t even stop to test if his scrawny bones can hold them up, instead marching forward in the direction of Chuuya’s apartment.

Fine. If Dazai wishes to play stubborn, then Chuuya doesn’t care (until Dazai either trips or his legs give out, that is).

With that thought, Chuuya settles in on Dazai’s shoulder, eyelids already drifting downwards.

They miraculously make it back to his apartment without Chuuya waking up, Dazai dropping him, or the both of them going splat on the concrete.

That’s a plus, Chuuya supposes.

If Dazai had tried this when they were around seventeen or eighteen, Chuuya’s sure one of them would have ended the night with a broken bone. The last time they had done this had to have been sometime after Corruption's first use, he realizes.

“Where does the slug wanna go?” Dazai asks as he fumbles with the door’s lock. Chuuya blinks his eyes open enough to do his security system’s retinal scan. There’s a click, a shuffle of clothes and doors, and the sounds of shoes hitting the genkan as Dazai pulls Chuuya’s off before taking off his own.

Chuuya hums. “Bed.”

“You’ll be mad if you wake up in a dirty bed.”

“Mornin’ problem.”

“So my problem,” Dazai huffs with a tsk.

Based on the twists and turns they’re taking, they’re heading towards the bedroom anyway. And just before Dazai can make it to the bed where Chuuya’s long desired rest awaits, the brunet swings to the left, eliciting a low whine from Chuuya as they head towards the attached bathroom.

“I know, I know,” Dazai starts, setting him on the counter to turn the sink’s faucet to hot as he grabs a hand towel. Chuuya continues to lean forward on his shoulder, forcing the man to stay in front of him. As the water heats up, Dazai starts prying the redhead’s bloodied clothes from his body. “We’ll take a bath tomorrow. Just a quick cleanup to get most of the blood off and then you can sleep to your heart’s content.”

Chuuya’s already beginning to doze off when he mumbles back, “With you.”

A pause, the shoulder beneath his head stiffening before it slowly comes to relax again. A bandaged hand comes up to rest at the back of Chuuya’s head as the faucet is shut off. “With me.”

Dazai makes quick work of wiping the dried blood from Chuuya’s face and body, delicate but precise, and afterwards in the bedroom dresses the redhead in his softest pajamas. Chuuya always runs cold after using Corruption so he takes precaution, even if it means there’s potential for Chuuya to wake up annoyed because he got too hot.

After tucking Chuuya in the bed – and far enough in the middle of it to guarantee the slippery slug doesn’t fall off of it with his hazardous sleeping positions – Dazai recleans the bathroom, removing his own bandages and clothes in the process.

He steals a pair of oversized pajamas that Chuuya claims he “accidentally bought and was too lazy to return,” then slips into bed beside the other.

When Chuuya wakes in the morning, it’s to warm arms and the sound of a heartbeat against his ear, beating in tandem with his own.

[somepsychopomp]

A Fair Contest (Ch. 2)

Summary-

A golden apple was tossed into a gathering of gods. Upon it, the inscription read: 

To the most amorous king.

And two hands reached for it at once. 

Unless the world was to be torn asunder by the warring sky and sea, Zeus and Poseidon would have to settle their dispute by having a mortal choose who was, beyond any doubt, the superior lover. 

And they set their eyes upon Odysseus of Ithaca.

+++

A few notes: this is a continuation of chapter 1 of my AU (which you can read here)

Also, this isn't the complete second chapter, just a taste of what's to come. That being said, this is a rough draft so anything could be subject to change.

Word Count: approx. 3k

As a final note, if you really like this fic, let me know! The support I got for Part 1 was great and really encouraging :)

+++

Since Odysseus was the most eager of anyone to see the palace complete, he was also one of the hardest workers. He rose at dawn and refused to rest even as the sun set on most days, using torches and lamps to give him light as he carved out furniture or laid out the stone tiles. He wanted as much of his new house to be built by his own hand as possible, to show Penelope just how much he adored her. 

Sadly, this meant he was sometimes met with resistance from those closest to him. 

“No, no,” Eurylochus said, blocking the entrance to the soon-to-be kitchens with his large frame, a smile on his face, “You’re not going anywhere near the construction today!”

Odysseus scoffed at his old friend, “Oh, is that so? And who are you to defy me?”

He tried to squeeze past, only to be met by Polites with his hands covered in the dust that came off the marble tiles. 

“We’ll see to it that everything stays on schedule!” Polites said. He was no match for Odysseus, but together, his two closest friends kept him from laying the stonework himself. 

“You need your rest.” Polites said, “You’d let any other man take a break, why not yourself?”

“Because I’m the king!” 

Eurylochus’ strong arms wrapped around his waist and physically turned Odysseus around. 

“Let go of me!” Odysseus said, feigning outrage even as he could feel Eurylochus laughing at him. 

“Go, my king. Take a walk, go back to sleep. Do whatever you want. But you’re not coming back to work until you’ve had a well-earned rest!”

To think, the king of Ithaca was usurped by his closest friends! 

Of course, they wouldn’t let him slink off to some other part of the palace to assist with the construction. While Eurylochus assumedly instructed the men, Polites was on Odysseus’ heels like a dog, poking and prodding at him every time he stopped to consider picking up a hammer or bucket. 

“Alright!” Odysseus said at last, no longer even attempting to appear irritated. He threw his hands into the air in defeat. “It’s a nice day out, I think I’ll go for a swim.”

“Excellent choice!” Poltes said, a warm smile upon his face as if he didn’t just spend the last ten minutes physically harassing his dearest friend and king. Odysseus shot him a knowing look before heading off. 

Ithaca was far from the largest island in the sea, or the most illustrious, and most of its shores consisted of rocky ground unsuitable for leisure. But he did know of a few beaches sporting white sand. There was even a little strip of soft sand not far from the palace. Odysseus intended for a stone pathway to be laid down, but he had no difficulty picking his way through the tall grass from the palace’s resting place to the sea below it. 

He expected to see a few others enjoying the early summer weather, perhaps some children playing in the surf, but found no one else. It was honestly a relief as Odysseus left his sandals behind and savored the way the warm sand felt under his feet. On the way down, he had half a mind to wait a little while before sneaking back into the palace, but it was so lovely out that Odysseus was tempted to really take a break. 

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and yet the sun wasn’t unbearably hot. The sand under his feet didn’t burn and the waves weren’t the usual rough, tempestuous kind that battered Ithaca’s shores. These lapped softly at the shore, almost in tune with the songbirds as Odysseus decided to go for a stroll. The sea was truly splendid today, glittering as if it were made of sapphires and capped with silver foam. 

Odysseus followed the beach, a little puzzled as a steep hill rose to his left, creating a bend in the path. He didn’t remember the beach here being curved, he thought it went on in a straight line. Nevertheless, it had been a while since his last visit the previous year. He was searching for the perfect location for his new palace before the construction began and thought a tidy strip of beach would be a nice addition to the grounds. 

He followed the beach, stunned to come around the bend and find a beautiful cove on the other side. High cliffs concealed it from the rest of the island, with moss and draping ivy growing out of the stone. The cliffs formed a semi-circle and the sand followed suit, creating a crescent that the water fed into. A few rocky outcroppings formed miniature islands out in the water, which glimmered like turquoise in the sunlight. 

How could he have missed this?

He was certain he walked the length of the beach and never once found anything as remarkable as this. The cove wasn’t very large, certainly no more than a few hundred feet wide, but its size added to its charm. It felt so serene here, so private. Odysseus could easily imagine guiding Penelope here for a picnic in the summer. He even went as far as imagining a few little ones jumping into the water. 

Smiling to himself, Odysseus shed his clothes and dipped his feet into the water before wading farther out. Soon, he was swimming in the bright, cool waters of the little cove, ducking his head beneath the surf to avoid the incoming waves. 

Once he was past the flurry of white-tipped waves that fell upon the shore, he could see one of the little islands directly in front of him. Odysseus wondered if he could make it there in just one breath, so he sucked in as much air as possible before diving once more. 

Most people, especially those from the mainland, didn’t know how to swim. They thought, should someone fall into the ocean, that it was better to drown swiftly than to prolong the process by trying to stay afloat. Odysseus knew better. His father taught him to swim and Odysseus had been knocked off more than one boat over the course of his life. Mostly they were all accidents incurred while sailing between the stone pillars around Ithaca’s coast as a test of courage. 

When he surfaced again, he could touch the wet stone. Odysseus even would’ve climbed on top just for the pleasure of jumping into the crystalline waters. 

But he could only gawk with a sharp, painful sense of dread at the man seated upon the stone. A man that Odysseus feared was no mortal at all. 

The stranger’s dense mane of pure white hair flowed lightly in the breeze, though his was not the face of an old man. No, whoever this was, he was beautiful beyond words. He wore no clothing whatsoever, proud to reveal his vast expanse of tan skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight. Much like his hair, his beard was full and well-kept despite its shocking lack of color. 

His broad chest, twice as wide as Odysseus’ own, spoke of his strength, as did his equally impressive arms and thighs. Though interestingly enough, while he had a warrior’s build, he bore not even a single scar. And he did not sit facing Odysseus, but rather with his body at an angle that made the curve of his chest and biceps all the more enticing. 

But his eyes. They sparkled like the purest of gold and put the stars to shame with their brilliance. 

The man with all his entrancing features smiled at Odysseus as he held out a hand. 

“Why, isn’t it a lovely day? Come, little king. Sit with me and enjoy the splendid sight of such a flawless sky.”

Odysseus pulled away from the man, wading in the water with half a mind to swim as hard as he could for land. 

“Who…” he began, fighting to calm his nerves, “Who might you be, if I may ask?”

Odysseus already had his suspicions. Their fulsome, wavy tresses, broad shoulders, and the square cut of their jaws were the exact same. 

Athena’s father continued to smile upon him, chuckling softly. 

“How could I possibly introduce myself like this? Come, and partake in some company.”

Odysseus suddenly found it very hard to catch his breath. He wasn’t sure if it was his growing unease or something else, but he feared the water might pull him under at any moment. 

As he bobbed in the surf, Odysseus startled at the sensation of something solid forming under his feet. He looked down, but could see no sand bar or stone beneath him, just the ocean. 

“Why leave the water so soon?” a new voice asked. Odysseus stiffed and suppressed his instinct to lash out as an arm wrapped itself around his chest. The voice spoke into his ear, “The ocean is perfect today, isn’t it?”

The arm coaxed him closer until his back was flush against a warm chest. While Zeus’ voice was deep with the rolling resonance that came with thunder, this new voice was a little rougher and reminded Odysseus of the high tide crashing upon a rocky shore. 

Odysseus risked a glance at the newcomer, any potential words to save himself dying in his throat. 

Never in his life had he ever seen eyes so deeply, beautifully blue before. The azure gaze leveled upon him couldn’t have been compared to sapphires, lapis, or turquoise. And these eyes, too, seemed to glow. Only the most splendid ocean waters, sun-warmed and shallow and dancing between shades of blue and green, could possibly compare. 

Unlike Zeus, this stranger bore a slightly fairer complexion and black hair that shined like obsidian. His hair didn’t billow the way Zeus’ did; rather, it flowed through the air as if it weighed nothing, shifting from black to a cerulean blue at the ends so gradually that it was impossible to say where the color even began to change. 

He was as handsome as Zeus, though different. His frame was thinner; still very much an athlete’s build, but more akin to an agile swimmer than the sheer bulk that Zeus possessed. 

“Brother,” Zeus said, his voice losing that welcoming tone to become colder, harder. 

Odysseus swallowed, his throat going dry as he realized he was being cradled like a lover by the god of the seas. 

Poseidon shot Zeus an unimpressed look. “What? Am I doing something wrong?”

Thunder clapped across the skies despite the distinct lack of clouds. Odysseus shivered, his father having drilled it into his head as a child that he should never try to swim during a thunderstorm. 

Zeus sneered, seeming to drop all pretenses as he rose to his feet. Odysseus couldn’t help the way his eyes traced the thick line of pure white hair that decorated the god’s abdomen, trailing down to…

Odysseus forced himself to shut his eyes, making every effort to avoid any feeling even remotely like lust. 

He wondered to himself, Why? Why me? 

What could he have possibly done to deserve a fate like this? To perish before he could even be wed?

What would Penelope think of him?

An impossibly large hand caressed his cheek. Odysseus’ eyes flew open. 

The King of the Gods laid upon a bed of wispy clouds in front of him, seeming to float on a bed of fog on the water’s surface. He propped himself on his other elbow, showing off the curve and vast expanse of his chest. Zeus was so large that even flat on his stomach, he had to look down to meet Odysseus’ eye. 

“So, little king, if you had to pick between the sea and sky, which would you say could more easily capture your admiration?”

“Oh, please!” Poseidon said, his own pretenses dropped as irritation colored his voice, “What could your sky do that’s more splendid than this?”

Something rose from the water right next to him, glowing like the eyes of a god, some tendril with the deep blue shade of the open ocean. It was a cold and stark contrast to the shallows they were in. Odysseus couldn’t understand what it was until it took shape, forming a hand terminating in clawed digits. 

Poseidon’s other arm, he thought. It was made of the very water that composed his domain. 

Poseidon flicked his wrist and a massive wave swelled, threatening to crash right into them. Odysseus felt his body tense, taking a deep breath on instinct. 

Before his very eyes, Poseidon willed the wave to flow over their heads and encase them in a bubble of air. Odysseus gasped. 

Right over his head, close enough to touch, the dome of water doused him in blue light. The closest thing Odysseus had ever seen to something so lovely was the warm, dappled sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. The way the water pulsed and rippled, he thought he could have easily spent all day just watching it flow. 

Zeus muttered something softly. Before Odysseus could wonder if it was meant to be a remark addressed to him, a dark shape appeared over their bubble. At first, Odysseus thought it was a large seabird. 

A circle opened up in the dome and a face appeared, youthful and hale, wearing a winged helm. 

“My, my! I don’t know if anyone’s ever beaten me to my destination before.”

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” Zeus said, sitting up. 

Odysseus heard a grumbling sound come from Poseidon as the dome collapsed into seafoam and was carried away on the wind. Without it, he got a better look at the newcomer. 

He wore a short chiton embroidered with green and gold and carried a satchel at his side, resembling a young man Odysseus’ age or even younger. It would’ve been entirely possible to mistake him for human, seeing as he wasn’t reaching the towering size of his father or uncle, but his winged sandals warned of a far greater power hidden behind his mischievous smile. 

Odysseus wished he could sink into the water. He wished he never left his palace. 

Hermes turned his sparkling gaze upon him and knelt right on the surface of the water to tap Odysseus’ nose with his finger. He asked, “Forgive me! You are Odysseus of Ithaca, yes?”

Hearing his name sent a small jolt down his spine. Odysseus cleared his throat, “I am. But-”

He wanted to know what was going on, why three Olympians were suddenly assailing him, even posing as if to seduce him. 

“Perfect!” Hermes said, “I have a delivery for you. A gift, of sorts.”

He rummaged through his satchel while Zeus crossed his arms in an impatient gesture. He glanced at Poseidon, still behind Odysseus, and pointed his finger. Almost faster than Odysseus’ eyes could see, a bolt of white lightning as thin as a thread raced through the air. 

He felt no pain himself, but heard Poseidon hiss softly as he pulled his arm away, freeing Odysseus from his hold. 

“Ah!” Hermes said, either oblivious to the palpable tension in the air or just uncaring, “Here we are. And what an honor, to be the messenger to bestow a gold apple upon the king of Ithaca!” 

Pardon me? Odysseus wanted to ask. 

But Hermes produced what was unmistakably an apple from his bag. It must’ve been made from melted gold and polished by divine hands, for it was so perfectly shaped with no blemish from the smelting process in sight. It even came with a golden stem and a delicate golden leaf still attached. It shined so brightly in the light, Odysseus could even see his reflection in the curved surface. 

There was also a short ribbon tied to the stem. Hermes offered it in both hands, smiling without a care as he waited for Odysseus to take it. 

“A golden apple?” Odysseus asked, thinking fast, “Why, I couldn’t possibly accept a gift like this! Especially after having done no feat worthy of so much… attention.”

He looked away, doing his best to appear as bashful as possible. Whatever the gods were trying to do, whatever game they were playing, he wanted no part in it. He hoped his show of humility would hearten the gods and gain their favor, allowing him to escape the two deities that were well known for their appetites. 

A hand grabbed his face. Hermes continued to smile like an old friend as he forced Odysseus to make eye contact. Against his will, Odysseus’ hands lifted to accept the apple, which felt warm in his hands. 

“Not to worry, dear child,” Hermes said, “The apple isn’t quite for you, exactly. Instead, you’ll be its keeper for the time being.”

Hermes winked as his wings fluttered. He added, “Read the inscription. And, of course, good luck!” 

And then he was off, flying on the winds so quickly that he was beyond the horizon in seconds. 

Odysseus had the fleeting thought that Hermes was either so busy that he could not linger, or that he didn’t want to linger. 

[cheqorb]

A Change of Heart.

A change in your rival's personality is be nothing serious. So, the look of longing in their eyes, the comments that seem more flirtatious than threatening, are fine, right?

FEAT. Isagi, Shidou, Kaiser

NOTES. maybe everything is oaky

Making an enemy out of ISAGI is surprisingly straightforward, considering his more laid-back personality compared to everyone else at least.

Simply just be a bit of a diva (become Kaiser 2.0). Confidently brag about how much better you are than him and he’s a bit hopeless, isn’t he? It won’t be long before he begins to get pretty irritable around you, feeling a strong urge to curse you out anytime you speak.

It’s not the ego he minds, really, but you’re just so you.

────

With a smirk, you peer over his shoulder as he struggles to catch his breath in practice. "Is that all you've got? Whatever happened to the genius on the pitch?" you taunt, wearing the smug expression he oh-so-despises.

Your shit-eating grin only widens at the sight of his furrowed brows and clenched teeth that betray his frustration, he’s so predictable, it’s almost sad!

────

Which is why he would describe it as complete and utter humiliation, when he realises he's starting to feel something beyond mere dislike towards you.

The discomfort between the two of you only worsens as he grows awkwardly silent at your blatant insults or even the mere mention of his name within earshot. Seriously, is he just ignoring you? And if/when you condescendingly pat his head, calling him a sorry excuse of a striker, he just… stands there — his face tinted a touch redder than usual.

Well, you conclude he could’ve just finished practice so he’s red because of exhaustion. Stupid Yoichi got ahead of himself in training and tired himself out. Yeah, that must be it (cue everyone visibly shaking their heads and sighing very loudly)!

────

Before your fingertips even make contact with his head, Isagi already knows it's you standing beside him. "Still not giving up, huh? Just how much do you enjoy losing anyway..." You pause.

He doesn't swat your hand away or offer a retort like he would have a few weeks prior to today. You’re confused, not having a clue as to what’s changed and your little one-sided dynamic has lasted for ages at this point. He’s trying to embarrass you by acting as if you’re not there, isn’t he?!

But then, much to your absolute shock and horror, he absentmindedly responds with, “Right. Yeah.”

With your hand still resting on his hair, you don’t even notice how he leans into your touch while you’re still processing what just happened in your mind. How sneaky!

Now, this one’s unfathomably easy. SHIDOU is someone who thrives on stirring up trouble with anything unlucky enough to catch his attention; be it a stranger bumping into him or even a dog walking off its leash.

Though, to capture his interest and earn his respect in earnest, you need to demonstrate the ability to ‘explode’ on the field but also able to play by his ‘rules’. but to truly kick off his fascination with you (pun intended), maintaining a nonchalant demeanor/keeping a distance between you two also helps. He seems like he’d be drawn to people who are on the more mysterious side of his interactions with Sae are anything to go off of.

────

Approaching with his trademark flamboyance, Shidou’s voice boomed as he made his way across the pitch. "Hey, you! That was some seriously impressive play out there!" he declares, "I mean, seriously, those moves were—”

He goes off on a tangent about cells, explosions — stuff you couldn’t be bothered to listen to.

“…Thanks,” you say with a neutral expression on your face before he tries to jump on you??? Almost breaking your nose in the process, if you hadn’t dodged in time.

────

His personality is both captivating yet a little too boisterous for anybody’s taste, and you can’t help instinctively retreating if he gets too close. Even if he is one of the few players who willingly praises you outright.

But Shidou isn't deterred by your nonchalance; if anything, it only fuels his excitement. Someone that so brilliantly fits his character, (seemingly) couldn’t care less about him. Anyways in terms of romance, he operates on a vastly different wavelength from conventional views on love. I don’t think he’s the type to recognise feelings of being flustered or the desire to shower someone with tender care and attention.

Since it is still love at the end of the day, he’s still experiences a certain pull towards you, driven by instinct rather than conscious understanding. But besides that, he remains largely oblivious/doesn’t feel the need to dig deeper into the complexity of human emotions.

Just understands being around you = more fun for him.

And unless you’re exceptionally perceptive or are somehow able to understand his underlying motives, you're likely to interpret his actions as a signal to maintain a safe distance.

────

“You’re always so hard to pin down, you know that?” Shidou calls out, watching as you continue walking — unfazed by his presence. He debates on whether or not to smash your face into the ground but then, he pauses.

A rare moment of contemplation for him.

Despite everything, there’s something undeniably exhilarating about being around you. A sense of freedom, a release from the constraints of his existence. Being with you makes him happy. It’s a thought that prompts another; how nice it’d be if you felt the same way about him… huh. Oh well.

For KAISER, it's also decently easy. Either defeat him on the soccer field or simply refuse to conform to his philosophy of everyone revolving around him; just don’t be a pushover. He’s someone who’ll gladly take any opportunity to crush someone whose ego far outweighs their abilities, but when confronted by someone with the skills to match their confidence? He becomes both intrigued and slightly irked.

Especially if they’re someone who can’t stand him (which to be fair, isn’t all that difficult) or simply wants nothing to do with him.

────

As you catch sight of a familiar head of blonde hair fading into blue entering through the doorway, you internally groan.

It’s Kaiser who saunters over, flashing his signature smirk. "Well, if it isn't my most favourite jester," he drawls, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You're looking rather defeated today. Are you finally coming to term with the fact that you'll never match my level?"

If it wasn’t clear, you don’t have much enthusiasm when it comes to whatever he says.

────

As time passes however, he’ll slowly find himself being more…involved in your life — forcing to make an appearance himself if need be.

Even noticing the small details about you. the way your eyes lit up when you seemed to figure something out, the subtle quirks that made you, you. Eventually (and I mean eventually, this will take a while), the realisation that his actions were out of love dawns on him. He’ll certainly try to deny it, brushing off the unfamiliar feelings as mere annoyance or frustration, but as he catches himself stealing glances in your direction and seeking out opportunities to be near you, he can’t help but admit defeat.

Michael Kaiser, the arrogant and self-assured soccer prodigy, had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with some nobody.

He wants to impress you, to be the one that makes you grit your teeth out of frustration, to be the best version of himself for you to look up at. And, what began as subtle glances and fleeting touches soon evolves into more obvious displays of affection.

He finds excuses to brush against you or in close proximity of you, his hand lingering a fraction longer when shaking yours or his fingers grazing yours when passing objects. He also seems to be fond of leaning close towards you nowadays, his face mere inches from yours. It’s a lot worse if you’re visibly flustered when he does these things too.

Additionally, your pet name has been upgraded from jester to ‘liebling’…whatever that even means. must be weird if it makes his teammates raise a brow every time he says it.

────

With the match coming to an end, you mentally prepare yourself for a certain someone’s inevitable reaction to that last play of yours. What you don’t expect is for him to suddenly take out your earbud with a creepy smile on his face. Kaiser’s always weird, but this is a little outlandish even for him.

“Ich liebe dich.”

You raise a brow at whatever he said (not that you could understand of course) but judging by the others looking completely lost for words, you can only assume it’s pretty awful.

[abysshare]

I feel like this needs to be said but i feel like I'll just be talking to a brick wall for the billionth time.

The ableism of disabled villains in fandom is so beyond tiring. Its bad enough when a grey or protag character gets it.

Today I'll be using Curly from Mouthwashing and William Afton from FNAF as an example.

Curly, isn't really a grey character. Maybe more of a protag, but since we play as Jimmy for most of it, he is kind of an antag. But for this post i will be putting him as a protag. Which reminder.

Protag doesn't mean good guy exactly.

Anyway.

Captain Curly is a burn survivor as well as a disabled man, with no skin, no hands or feet, and is left with one eye. The damage is pretty bad, and the Nurse ( Anya ) has done the best she could with what she had, which is pretty damn good considering all things.

How does the fandom treat him? Its a mixed bag but of course. Ableism.

They either give him "dog buttons", or infantalize him, coquette-ify him, erase the situation just because "its easier" or whatever else. And then theres some people who genuinely try by getting him to a proper hospital so Anya or another doctor can try and fix what they can, as well as give him an AAC device or a wheelchair, so on and so forth.

Its either shit as unfortunately expected or good enough that makes people genuinely do research or call out ableism.

Now lets look at William Afton. A villain, murderer, mad scientist and so forth. For this post I'll be strictly talking about The Fourth Closet William Afton and Burntrap.

For those who are not into FNAF. The Fourth Closet is a seperate timeline from the games, an AU. And Burntrap is TECHNICALLY not William now, but when Security Breach came out, we didn't know this.

A bit more backstory for those who do not know. William has an Animatronic suit that he can go into to perform or kill, but it has these things called springlocks. If something happens, they can go off and hurt and eventually kill him.

Moving on.

William Afton is a Springlock Victim ( and even though no fire happens in the book before the ending of The Fourth Closet, i would argue and say he does indeed have burn scars as well in the graphic novel ) aka ragged Metal throughout his skin.

As Burntrap, he is a metal burned skeleton with leftovers of Springtrap/Scraptrap with burnt flesh.

How does the fandom treat both versions of him?

As Burntrap: some people like him, some don't. Its purely because at the first reveal we all thought it was William himself somehow even though he is supposed to be dead-dead for real. His design CAN be cool, scary and great in the right spotlight.

However.....

Most people took the "haha peepaw" route of memes. Some being ageist and some being ableist. Making him a senile old man in a wheelchair or a walker with Vanny being his caretaker. Most of the time throwing him down the stairs or beating him with his mobility aid or threatening to. Sometimes they would also draw him in diapers with poop in it.

Utterly disgusting, ageist and ableist behavior all because this is a villain.

How do they treat TFC version of William? Well.... i don't see much of him to be frank. But either its coquette-ifying him ( which is just as gross as coquette-ifying Curly ), genuinely calling him pretty or being absolutely being ableist/rancid, or removing his scars all together.

What is the point I'm getting at?

If its a villain, like William, to Darth Vader to Hordak from the She Ra remake, to Belos from TOH.......

They get mocked for their disabilities because abled folks ( and even some disabled folks ) thinks the Villain or whoever deserves it as punishment.

But these same people will turn around and infantilize and baby, or dogify or coquetteify "good guy" disabled characters.

I haven't seen this in the Arcane fandom, while i don't doubt people have been ableist to Jinx, Silco or Viktor , at least it isn't as "loud".

Ableism isn't cute or funny. And while i UNDERSTAND these are characters- and that they are not real.

It HURTs real people.

And I'm talking as a disabled chronic pain person, so don't even start with me.

Ableists and shit will be deleted, ty.

Edit ( 12 / 9 / 2024 ): to add to this, i still see people making jokes, especially to make self shippers feel bad ( those who self ship with springtrap ), about how William most likely passed human fluids and gasses as he died-

Yeah. News flash: you do that no matter how you die. Even later in a casket as you're rotting away.

Now.. the act of him doing that as he dies isn't ableist within itself. But the fact that these people using the bit of him urinating and defecating himself as a joke Is ableist as there are folks with disabilities that can't control it, and there is no shame in that.

Also if you're trying to say "Springtrap smells like literal shit". Consider people already know this and either ignore that ( which is valid ) or yk. Have their insert take Springtrap home and clean him up and fix him.

Or have Springtrap clean himself up ( i imagine he does by the time he become Scraptrap, as best as he can anyway ).

.

As for Curly, i am seeing a lot of Videos that are finally talking about it. Thank the gods, moon, whatever.

Mouthwashing is one of those things you really don't need to ship anyone with anyone ( if you must i highly suggest making an oc because thats awesome ).

On top of that though I'm still seeing ableist art of Curly and probably will for awhile 😮‍💨

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi! You definitely don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but I looked at your tier list and saw that Jack and Epel were in the "sliiiiiiiightly dislike" and "solid dislike" categories respectively. Jack is easily in my top 5 and I find Epel to be a fun character despite feeling more neutral towards him, so I was just curious as to why you personally don't like them that much.

Thank you!

[My personal Twst tier list is here!]

Jack actually used to be in the same "solid dislike" tier as Epel. (I briefly explain his ascension to another tier here.) I've loosened up on my opinion of him since his dream in book 7, but I still don't consider him to be a character that I particularly enjoy.

A lot of things about who Jack fundamentally is just do not appeal to me. For example, his design has many elements that I find unattractive (big muscles, silver hair in a spikey mullet, wolf ears and tail, the whole "tough guy" look, etc.). I don't dislike tsunderes (my own Twst OC is one), but I'm extremely picky with them. I prefer tsundere characters to have a reason or part of their backstory that explains why they find it hard to express themselves truthfully. To my knowledge, Jack doesn't really have that, so I instead find him "tsundere for the sake of checking it off on the cast" instead of cute. He gives me very strong... dog energy (especially with the way he idolizes Leona and trails Ruggie around offering to do stuff to help him out), and that's a HUGE demerit for Jack, since I am very much a Dog Disliker. Any traits you would normally assign to a dog and find appealing about them become drawbacks for Jack in my eyes. The one big thing I do happen to like about Jack is that him being the stubborn moral compass of the group makes for interesting clashes with other characters (particularly those within his own dorm).

Epel falls into other tropes I dislike: the "babyfaced one who wants to be manly" and the "country bumpkin that's a fish out of water in the big city/a new community". I feel like there's very few ways to do these without inevitably falling into the same story beats, and I do not find this engaging. I think that Epel's character arc in book 5 happened much too fast and needed more time to cook. (He spent 16ish years with conservative gender views and it takes a SINGLE social media post from Vil to get him to change his mind?? Okay??????) Admittedly, a large part of why I dislike Epel is that his Harveston dialect is EXTREMELY difficult to translate over into English and I'm never quite satisfied with how I've chosen to write it. The dialect always comes off as "too exaggerated" one way or another. His general behavior is also much too immature and rowdy for my liking (he's too overeager to fight, he speaks out of turn to seniors and figures of authority, etc.); if you haven't noticed by now 😂 I tend to prefer mature, collected, and brains over brawn types, which Epel does not really align with.

I think the general problem for both Jack and Epel for me is that it takes them both much, MUCH longer than the other characters to gain any sort of meaningful depth. Their content so often falls back on the same old safety nets ("I like to exercise!"/"I like apples!") instead of trying to find some creative ways to expand on them. For example, we know that Malleus likes exploring ruins and the solitude they provide, but he also wonders about the history tied to them, admires architecture, etc. When he visits new places, he comments about the differences between his home and this new location. This demonstrates his curiosity and also lets us know he knows very little about the world. Jade has his obvious interests in the mountains and mushrooms, but he has also indicated that he wants to try drawing specimens he finds and that he finds manhole covers interesting. You can see him expanding beyond his initial interests and wanting to learn more about the human world. What do Epel and Jack tend to do? "Oh, I'm reading this book because I want to build more muscle definition!"/"Apples are the best fruit ever, have some that my family sent!" Arguably, these types of behaviors could be extrapolated to determine something else about the boys (Jack is very determined/a hard worker, Epel cares deeply about his family and believes in the quality of their produce), but the issue is that this is so often ALL they are portrayed as. I feel that neither of them get the same amount of nuance and diversification that the rest of the NRC cast enjoys.

[the-literary-apothecary]

Savanaclaw Headcanons

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

Genre: Romantic and/or Platonic

Characters Included: Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchie, and Leona Kingscholar

Prompt: Just some headcanons I made originally for my little sister. They're revamped for a wider and mature audience.

Slight warning: My headcanons include a variety of song selections. Not all are appropriate. So listen to them at your own risk and choice.

(Edit: The orange ones were what my best friend recommended)

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

.°˖✧ Jack Howl ✧˖°.

𓃦 Relationships? Pfft! Never!..

(Yes he would, he’s a liar. Even the game admits that he’s a tsundere that can’t keep up with the bit. So let’s dissect that a little)

(According to Jack, wolf beastmen normally have one person that they consider their special someone. Only, because they mate for life and are never apart no matter what. Because Jack is confident that he will have that sort of life in the future, he’s not actively seeking someone.)

(In other words, he’s completely okay with the concept of love. He just doesn’t necessarily follow modern dating culture. Not only that, but he’s fine with no getting much romantic attention. Which means, hope you’re patient, because this is the slowest slow burn to ever slow burn)

𓃦 He’s a very sweet guy towards you.

An utter gentleman that does his best to make sure you’re happy, safe, and most of all comfortable around him. This isn’t how he looks up to Ruggie and treats him also like a higher up. This is different, because for his special someone, it’s more. Which is why he goes beyond the limit that he sets himself.

You’re thirsty and want a specific drink? He’ll sprint to Sam’s Shop (which just so happened to be on the other side at the academy) and hand it to you with a happy tail wagging. Do you need a hair tie? Well, he just Happened to have a scrunchie in his bag. Totally not because he bought a small scrunchie packet for you in case you forget yours. It’s raining and there’s a puddle? Well, he doesn’t have a jacket- so he’ll have to just throw himself on the puddle. That one was a bit of an exaggeration, but you get it. He’s not going to hide how much he cares about. Because he sees no reason to. You’re his forever.

𓃦 His nickname for you

He doesn’t like most flowers. Mostly because they’re usually too smelly and strong smells give him a headache. But he does like most plants, especially his cacti. His nickname for you could be flower. Because for him, it’s one of the few flowers worth protecting, and worth having so close.

𓃦 His love language(s)

His love languages are touch and words of affirmation. As much as he’ll deny he doesn’t enjoy it, it’s hard to believe anything he says when a good hug gets his tail wagging, you know?

𓃦 Part of the family? Of course!

While it may take a while for the two of you to get together, it's undeniable how inseparable you two have become.

Every summer, once you two are actually together, he’ll take you to his home to meet his family and go sailing with his little siblings. For him, it’s nice to have someone his age. It makes looking after his little siblings a lot easier.. Not to mention that it’s unapologetically domestic. Which makes his aspirations for a love like his family seem all the more reachable.

𓃦 Songs Jack could listen to:

✓ Whoomp (There it is!) by Tag Team

✓ Who Let the Dogs Out? By Baha Men

✓ Pump It! By The Black Eyed Peas

✓ My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by Fall Out Boy

✓ Phoenix by Cailin Russo

✓ Enemy by Imagine Dragons

✓ Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

𓃦 Songs that make me think of Jack:

✓ Running with the wolves by Aurora

✓ White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

✓ Does the Swallow Dream of Flying by Cosmo Sheldrake

✓ Run Boy Run by Woodkid

✓ Hope by NF

✓ Guillotine by Jon Bellium

✓ Out of My League by Fitz and The Tantrums

.°˖✧ Ruggie Bucchie ✧˖°.

𓃟 Love? Yeah sure, why not?

Ruggie’s not against the idea of a relationship, he just doesn’t see himself in one any time soon because of all the trouble on his plate.

He doesn’t have a lot of free time. And he can’t pay for others when going out, he can barely pay for himself. I mean, this is the same guy who uses Leona’s hand me downs for school. You take a guess how much cash he has in his pocket.

Can’t really buy flowers or chocolates for someone he might like. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try to charm your socks off.

Ideally, he would like to be with someone understanding of his financial troubles. And doesn’t expect to completely bend his back over for them. Afterall, a relationship is supposed to be a two way street, right? He may not always have time for you because of his jobs or side hustles, but that sure doesn’t mean he won’t try and be there for you.

So what if he can’t give you some shiny roses for your anniversary? He can find some wild flowers in a field and give you a pretty flower crown just for you. It’s the thought that counts, right?

All in all, he wants someone supportive. Someone equally fervent on their goals and willing to be a sorta partner in crime.

No one’s perfect. And hey, you may not fit the bill. But make him happy. That’s the most important thing… and maybe buy him some donuts on his birthday if you can.

𓃟 He’s your backup!

Ruggie once in a while helps do your makeup for ceremonies. He’s not the most professional, but he had a part time job for it once. He knows how difficult it can be to fix yourself up for events. He’ll carry any emergency makeup in his pockets or bag, since he knows you well enough that you might need a touch-up midway.

Things like that are stuff you really appreciate. Because it's not just makeup.

Sometimes it's snacks he made for when you're hungry (which you two are both definitely sharing). Sometimes he keeps your sunglasses for certain occasions.

In other words, if you're a little bit of the forgetful type, he's got you covered. Don't worry, he likes being helpful. And besides, you'll never be as bad as Leona when it comes to taking care of you.

Caring for you is a choice. And a choice he doesn't regret doing. You're worth the trouble, a lot more than you think.

𓃟 You’re his cheerleader!

He’ll happily admit that he enjoys it when you cheer him on during practices and games. It’s so different now that you’re around. Before, he played for the possibility of getting a scholarship, or getting noticed by any companies that are recruiting more players… but now he plays so you can cheer him…. AND because of money. So it’s a win/win!

𓃟 His nickname for you

Calls you deer on purpose. Because it sounds like dear, the affirmational pet name, and the animal. You’re not a lot like him. Much more of a goody two-shoes. He loves you all the same. It’s his nickname for you.

𓃟 He's kinda clingy

Hyenas are very clingy partners, especially the males (don’t hold me up on that). So, he’s openly pretty touchy. Holding your hand to walk you to class, hugging you after not seeing you all day. A lot of forehead kisses to assure you of things. But never too much. He cares about how you’re feeling more than anything. He’ll never push for anything more than what you want.

Speaking of touch, he despises it when you tug his tail. Please stop doing that. He knows it’s fluffy and stuff. You can brush, but enough with the pulling.

𓃟 His Love language(s)

His love language is acts of service and words of affirmation. He’s been told that he’s just a runt all his life. Forced to work twice as hard as the kids his age because he’s not privileged like everyone else. Sometimes a guy likes being told that he’s doing great. Or that he’s doing his best.

Acts of service is particularly his favorite because he doesn’t really have enough money to buy you most of the things you want. And any money he does receive from his jobs and side-gig is always used for his necessities. He barely has enough clothes for himself, let alone he has enough to buy you something you want..

He’s really grateful for the little things. When you fold his laundry, tend out the clothes, get in line for him at the cafeteria. You make the burden he carries a little easier. And he’s grateful for that.

Likewise, he does the same. Of course, you picked the worst tutor imaginable, but he does try his best to help you with homework. For you, he prefers preparing meals for you and ironing your uniforms in the morning. But this depends if you’re a morning person or not. If you’re a morning person instead, he’ll have your bed ready and your pajamas all picked out so that you can just slip them off and head straight to snoozing.

𓃟 Part of the family? Of course!

Once you two are together, he’s very happy to introduce you to his grandma. He knows that she’ll love you.

Sometimes he’ll wonder if his mom would love you just as much if she were alive. He doesn’t think about his parents often. But he knows that his relationship with you isn’t a regular one. I mean, who gives leftover quiches from scratch instead of flowers on dates? Still, he hopes he’s enough. That he’s doing enough for you. It would suck if he wasn’t. If there really was a wish that could come true from his heart… He’d wish for a high paying job, and for handmade bouquets to stop being so out of his budget.

𓃟 Songs Ruggie could listen to:

✓ Lose Yourself by Eminem

✓ Where this Flower Blooms by Tyler, The Creator

✓ Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar

✓ Fuck Da Police by Dr. Dre

✓ Cash In Cash Out by Pharell Williams, 21 Savage, Tyler, The Creator

✓ redrum by 21 Savage

✓ HISS by Megan Thee Stallion

𓃟 Songs that remind me of Ruggie:

✓ Prrrum by Cosculluela

✓ Arcangel: Bzrp Sessions Vol. 54

✓ Tango del Pecado by Calle 13

✓ Rompe by Daddy Yankee

✓ Delincuente by Tokischa, Anuel AA, Nengo Flow

✓ Soy una Gargola by Alex Gargolas, Randy

✓ Chambea by Bad Bunny

(Edit: My best friend and I have claimed him as the honorary latino in the group. Sorry not Sorry.)

.°˖✧ Leona Kingscholar ✧˖°.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Love? Ugh

This walking ball of sass barely has a single romantic bone in his body. If he can somehow find a way to kill the mood of a romantic night where all the stars are out, then yes, he kills his own chances at love because he probably thinks something stupid along the lines that he seldom deserves it.

Something like, what self-respecting lady (or gentleman or in-between) could ever want something as pathetic as him.

However, as self deprecating and difficult as this man can get, I don't think he's utterly against the concept. Simply apprehensive. It's not just a slow burn. It's a slow burn where you gotta learn how to make the damn candle first with this one.Not to mention that he's gonna be questioning for most of it once he realizes how much he softened up for you.

For Leona, you just need to be patient.He doesn't need to love himself first to love you. He just needs proof that your love for him won't disappear after the hard times. (In other words when he's being the most difficult)

He'll return that love in full once he sees it's worth of shot.

Just make him feel he's worth a sacrifice. And what better way than simply giving him your heart?

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ His nickname for you

If you’re shorter than him, he’s calling you little mouse. Not just because you’re shorter, but because of how much you meddle and have enough guts to seek him out the way you do. The nickname also stems from Aesop’s “A Lion and the Mouse”

The story is about a mouse that pleads for his life against a lion. The lion, being amused by the idea of a defenseless creature like the mouse helping, laughs at the idea and releases him. By the end of the fable, it’s the mouse that saves his life when he gets caught in a huntsman’s trap.

Leona sees this sort of relationship between you and him. Being able to spot each other in different situations. He may never verbally admit it so easily, but he does have a tender spot for you in that dumb rock in his chest he calls a heart. Which is why he gets annoyed if you’re ever too insecure of your own abilities. He knows what you’re capable of. So it’s irritating when you don’t.

“Really herbivore? This song and dance again? Hard to believe this is the same little mouse that helped in defeating me back in the Magical Shift tournament.”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Not the nicest sharer

Despises sharing his food, but will act none the wiser when you sneak a bite from his plate. It’s gutsy. As long as you try to be discreet, he won’t tell.. Much. Just don't be surprised when he does the same with little apology.

It’s not just food either. He’s just very territorial with most things.

You of course are included. The moment he sees someone in his peripheral vision giving you enough of hard time that it’s causing a racket, then suddenly your problem is also his problem

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ You wanna scare him? Hah!

Good luck trying to scare this hardass. His senses are too sharp for that. So it’s really hard to actually get him scared. Leona’s capable of even sensing someone watching several clicks away. But, since it’s you, if you try to scare him… he might just act a little bit. Maybe a little jump or a twitch to give you motivation. Lions do that for their cubs so they can have more motivation to improve their skills for hunting. It’s basically what he’s doing so that you don’t get all sour with him… even if he thinks it’s really funny how mad you get about it.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Personal Space? Never heard of her (According to you)

He hates it when you’re interrupting his naps. Cats need their sleep, you know? Not to mention they’re incredibly territorial of where they go, so he’s not too keen on sharing his secret spots. The only time he’ll be quiet about it is when you really need him. Say you’re emotional and you need an ear to listen to your woes. He’ll be incredibly grouchy, but he’ll listen and give you the advice you need. Always…. And then ask you to get the heck out of his spot before Ruggie catches him.

Ironically though, if he’s feeling the mood, then he’s gonna invade your room and lay down without a single word. He likes your space. Because it’s you.

Still a hypocrite though.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ His Love Language(s)

His love language is quality time. Spending time together, playing chess, taking a nap, reading. That’s what he likes the most. As long as it’s together, he doesn’t mind all that much. He’s more of a listener than a talker anyways- just don’t go yapping for hours on end. He still has his short fuse, rest assure you. It’s just that he’s a bit more patient with you.

Speaking of love languages, he likes gift giving. Specifically giving you the gifts. Doesn’t really matter what it is. If you’ve mentioned something you like, he might be inclined to give it to you… if you deserve it. As if he’s going to spoil anyone rotten just because… But don’t be too surprised when you’re fatigued after a very long day of hard work and he “coincidentally” gave you your favorite snacks and drink.

“Do you gotta make a big deal out of everything herbivore? I’m just giving you something to eat so you can keep working. It’s called being a good leader”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Songs Leona could listen to:

✓ Be Prepared from The Lion King (but this is canon soo.. yeah)

✓ Leona doesn’t seem much like the type to listen to music. He’s too in his own head to really do that. As long as it’s not too pitchy or annoying, he most likely won’t care. Just don’t make it so boring he’ll fall asleep.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Songs that remind me of Leona:

✓ Inertia by AJR

✓ THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND by Bad Omens

✓ DEVILISH by Chase Atlantic

✓ Nothing’s New by Rio Romero

✓ You Fuckers Were Asking for This One by Rav

✓ Skin Deep Comedy by Milli

✓ Forever Ended Today (Max’s Song) by mid

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

Author's Note

To read more fanfics, go to my list of fanfics (plus information about my page) here

Making these hcs killed me inside. They were supposed to be posted in August. But the amount of errors I had writing this on Tumblr made me want to dispose of this post entirely.

Regardless, hope you like them. Don't take em too seriously ;w; especially the Ruggie ones.

More fics to come.

Buenas noches

[toulousewayne]

Beyond the Bat: Pt II 🦇

Batfamily x batsis!reader

Synopsis: Three years since Bruce’s disappearance, and with all of Batman’s former Robins gone, Gotham is under protection of the Batwoman, but she will need help to take on one of Gotham biggest Civil Wars ever.

——

The blaring of sirens, the existence sounds of horns and swearing. And the strong aroma of urine and hot dogs. New York. Y/n leaned back in her seat mentally preparing herself for the facade she’d have to endure during this events.

“Most of the young masters disliked these things as well.” Alfred offered his warmest smile as the towncar pulled behind several others unloading their occupants.

“I can’t say I enjoyed them when I had to attend them with Bruce.” She adjusted her hair and checked her makeup in a compact mirror as the car stopped at the entrance of the Met.

Alfred step out first and opened the door for her. She signed as she was blinded by bright spotlight, camera flashes and the shouts and comments from reporters and photographers.

“How will I find him?” She whispers with a fake smile.

Alfred offers a sincere chuckle. “Most likely it’s Master Timothy who will find you.” He gets back into the car and it pulls off. Y/n strolls into the building not paying any of the screaming photographers questions about who she was.

Engulfed in a room of classical sonnets, ensembles of rich elite socialites fill the room. She descends the staircase and into the heart of the party. Gaining some glances both in awe and of disbelief. Y/n cross the room to the bar and scans its fellow patrons.

“Looking for someone?” A man asks with a Scotch in hand. The man looks familiar but also like someone she has never seen before.

“It’s possible,who wants to know?” She grins. The man smiles warmly.

“Just someone who finds these..things a bit over the top.” She studied the man with light blue eyes and gel back hair. The man was handsome at least in his later twenties or early thirties.

“Like wise.” Y/n turned to the bartender who placed a drink before. “I didn’t order this-“

The bartender pointed down the bar to a man old enough to be considered for a room in retirement home winked at her.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend.” The man next to her smirks. Y/n glares at him before getting to her feet the man is not far behind.

“I was only teasing no need to get worked up.” She doesn’t answer him but instead makes a beeline for the dance floor until the next song begins and she swirled up in a sea of couples. She bumped right into the arms of the man she left at the bar.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” the man twirled during the song and the two continued to dance to the orchestra.

“I’m sure you find these sorta events interesting, this isn’t my scene.”

The man chuckled,”It’s more so I attend these events out of habit. Not so much because I enjoy people.” Y/n grins.

“In that case maybe you can help me. I’m looking for someone.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Tim Drake.” The man’s eyes go wide as the music stops and the crowd clap.

“Why are you looking for me?” It’s Y/n’s turn to look shocked. The two quickly move to the balcony above the party.

Tim’s features hardens as he ushers Y/n away from prying eyes. “Talk. Who sent you.”

“I need your help, Gotham is in the middle of a Civil War between the League and the Court of Owls.”

He studied her for a moment before speaking. “You’re the new Bat in town. Dick mentioned that.”

“I didn’t know you all kept in touch. Alfred will be pleased.” He shakes his hand running his hand down his face.

“Look, I’m sure you mean well but I have a life here.”

She walks closer to him. “I’m not asking you to abandon your life Mr. CEO. I just need your help for a few days. A week max and then I’ll never bother you again.”

He still stoic and sighs. “I life Gotham for a reason, I know Dick already denied helping you. I’ll talk to him. But I mean it once the threat is over and Bruce’s estate is settled don’t come looking for me.”

Y/n folds her arms. “I think that can be arranged. I’ll be going now I still have two more Robins to find.” Before she could leave Tim grabbed her forearm.

“You may be out of your depth with this. You don’t have to be like him.” His words hung in the air even after he let her arm go and returned to the party downstairs.

——

“Mommy, Mrs. Barbara took me get ice cream today. She even let me pick out my topping.” Roman squealed with excitement as he got ready for bed.

“That sounds like fun, are you behaving for Babs?” Y/n gleamed at the boy from her phone as the jet took off.

“Yes, she tomorrow I can go to see where she works. Mommy she’s so cool.”

“Rowan all these complements are going to go to my head. Hey go brush your teeth I need to talk to your mommy really quick.” Rowan passes the phone to Barbara who chuckles as the boy rushes out the door.

“How goes the search for the boys?”

Y/n glances out the window and turns back to her. “About as exciting as it can go. How’s things there?”

“A few more bodies were recovered this morning. It’s getting worse Nyssa is making her move and still no word for the Court. I don’t like how quiet they’re being it can only mean they’re planning something.”

“Did you get my message, any ideas where I can find the last two?”

Barbara nods and wheels into a different room. She begins typing and before speaking again. “I was able to piggyback Jason’s to his last known safe houses. But his signal keeps moving. I gave the coordinates to find Damian the jet should take you there. Be careful with everything Nyssa is plotting we don’t know the state of the league.”

“Very well.” Rowan comes back with toothpaste all over his mouth. “Goood n-night mom-my.”

“Good night sweetheart.” Y/n needs the call and sets back in her seat.

————

Y/n ventures into the deserts of Nanda Parbat. She glides down to the ground and observes the fortress.

“Alfred I can see the fortress, I’m moving in.” She notices arrows and swords on the ground.

A fight.

She progress inside the stronghold to find it still in a state of prestige. Batwoman enters the throne rooms and finds its barren.

“Alfred I th—

She’s cut off by a dark embedding itself into her side. She see three ninjas descend from the ceiling.

One of them shouts at her in Arabic. Before the charge her. She’s able to defeat them but soon more arrive until she’s overwhelmed by the waves of assassins and several more doses of the drug from the blow darts. A tall figured adored in gold, green and a demon mask strolls towards her.

His voice is distorted and soon Batwoman is dragged away before darkness consumes her entirely.

——

Slowly ringing is all that feels the void and her vision regains in a dungeon. Before her is the same figure.

“You’re awake. I was wondering how long before you would come here.” A deep voice boomed.

“Who are you,why am I chained up. Let me go!”

“Foolish girl, you break into my house. You do not get to make demands.” The figure step into the light and Y/n is taken aback.

The man before her looks very similar to Bruce. At least physically. His skin is a deep cooper compared to Bruce. His eyes are like to two jade stones. Starve features and manicured hair.

“You look like him.” The man’s gaze hardens he grabs her.

“Why did you come here?”

“Gotham, it’s in the middle of a war. With your assassins.” He growls.

“That faction you speak of is not mine, they’re loyal to my Grandfather’s cause for genocide and destruction.” Damian releases his grasp.

“I lead without bloodshed. As for you. You’re unworthy to wear that symbol, a fool to think you could ever be what my father stood for.”

Y/n is about to fire back at him but he snaps his figures and two assassins rush in and unchain her.

“Take your belongs, and leave. Don’t come back here.” He doesn’t face her as his tall figure leaves the cell.

“Wait!” Batwoman rushes after him. “I need your help Damian, just because your people are loyal to Nyssa doesn’t stop-“

He worlds around and his gaze burrows into hers. “Don’t lecture me on the separation within my army. I’m well aware of my aunt’s doing. I’ve tried for years to keep the league as one. I don’t need you to remind me of it.”

“Do you always have a stick up your ass?” He grids his jaw and towers over her.

“Leave.”

“Not until you agree to come with me. Trust me when I say this I don’t want to chase you all down, but I made a promise to your father that I would look after this godforsaken place. And I need your help these are your people they’ll listen to you.”

He scoffs. “They only listen to which ever ruler allows them to kill. They all have a bloodlust that can’t be stopped. And they won’t unless you kill them. But we both know you’ll do it.” He straights up and his features morph back into a glare.

“I’ve asked nicely I won’t ask a third time. Do not come back here, or you’ll regret it.” He leaves the hallway without another word.

——-

Several Assassins observe an apartment building. Raining pours down around them. One of them leaps across and peers into the window. Inside Barbara Gordon tucks Roman in for the night. She leaves the room and turns out the lights.

The Assassins watches the boy sleep and turns to the others.

“We have eyes on the boy, do you want us to strike?”

“No, we won’t make a move tonight, but Ms. L/n will soon learn about interfering with my operation.” Nyssa’s voice fills the Assassins ears. “Leave him for now, we’ll make our move tomorrow.”

The Assassins flee from the apartment as Barbara peers out the window in her living room before returning to her computer.

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Understanding

Hey @spotaus !! As promised :3 I got a little something for you!

Your drabble got me thinking and made me consider something. (also i am so sorry if i got the ages wrong. I really tried)

As always. Feel free to use whatever you want from it or just ignore what doesn't fit <3 I am just having fun and it is meant as a gift for you <3 (also to motivate you to keep writing more about it!)

*------------------------*

Nightmare gets off his horse as he stares at the castle.

Well. His castle now.

He is still not quite used to that. Refering to it with his castle instead of his mother's.

Even after almost 12 months. He still doesn't expect to see himself in the mirror. or maybe the problem is that he expects his old self. The young teen.

The weakling. The failure.

No focus.

He isn't that anymore. He now has the magic. He is the new powerful leader of his land. And he will make this work. Even if he still has no idea what he is doing.

No. He needs to get back and make sure no one tried to rebel against him. That no one tried to hurt Ccino while he was gone.

Nightmare gets off the horse and someone rushes over to take the horse. Nightmare stares at this person and figures out quickly it is the stablehand who has been taking care of the horses.

Nightmare looks over his shoulder and motions the new people to follow him. The set of brothers, the dog monster. and Killer.

Nightmare walks into the castle as he speaks "Some of the other servants will take you to your chambers to rest and clean up. Tomorrow the three of you will join some of my other staff to see what is needed and where you fit. Killer. You will-"

"My liege."

Nightmare blinks and looks over.

Ccino has appeared out of one of the servant secret passages and walks straight towards him. Nightmare can see, and feel, when Ccino takes in the new people and just who they are.

Ccino's face turns a bit harder and Nightmare can feel the annoyance and frustration in the air "My liege!" Ccino smiles brightly as he speaks "Have you eben succesfull in finding a possible knight?"

Killer chuckles behind him and mutters "someone is in trouble~"

Nightmare knows Killer is being sarcastic. But if only Killer knew how right he was.

Nightmare however could never be worried or afraid off Ccino. For him? Maybe. But never because of him. He gives a tiny nod. The only amount of respect their places and ranks allow them when others are near "Ccino." He waves into the direction of the new arrivals "These people will join my workers." He looks at the four new arrivals "This. Is Ccino. He is head of the house." a title that will never pass away from him. Not as long as Nightmare is in charge.

Ccino nods "Pleasure." he looks back at Nightmare "My liege. If you have the time. There is a matter we need to discuss."

Oh yeah. Nightmare is very much in trouble.

Nightmare's voice is still calm as he speaks "Very well. I will meet you in my study after i made sure they go to their chambers."

Ccino feels unamused but he nods with a bow before he leaves the hall with a quick turn.

Nightmare turns back to his new... servants? He never quite liked that word but it works. He turns to his servants and feel his tentacles slowly rise from their position on the ground. They slowly start to idle again as he makes sure the new people learn where their rooms are and where to get food.

He brings Killer to a room more seperate from the others. Beyond the guard positions. Just because Nightmare wants to give him a chance and the fact he doesn't fear him is refreshing doesn't make Nightmare forget how dangerous Killer is.

Fuck this was a mistake.

What if Killer hurts people here?

What if he hurts Ccino?

Killer looks around his room before lounging on the bed "So what is the deal with the other skeleton?" he grins and wiggles his eye brows "Little secret going on there?"

Ngihtmare needs a moment as he wonders what Killer could mean. Then it sinks in and Nightmare feels his tentacles all spasm as he shudders "No." the answer is final and harsh. Killer actually looks surprised.

Nightmare holds his sight and speaks slowly "I will only repeat this once and remember this well. I don't like having to repeat myself." he holds Killer's gaze "Ccino is head of the house. He will remain head of the house. Nothing anyone can say or do will change this." he holds his gaze before straightening himself again as he moves towards the door "Tomorrow we will start training."

Kilelr sputters "We?!"

Nightmare stops and shoots him a look "Obviously. How am I to keep track of your skills and promise if i don't oversee the training myself?" and he leaves the room.

He hurries back through th castle towards his study. Sinking in and out of shadows as his mind, body and soul all know where he wishes to go.

He stops by his study and enters it.

Ccino is already in there. Studying the old masks in the special glass casing.

Nightmare closes the door and Ccino turns to him with a glare "What were you thinking?"

Nightmare gets taken back to a year or two prior. When he was still small. When he had cut himself to practise for the ritual. He hadn't been able to sleep and had been nervous about the apple ritual already. He had wanted to practise his part. to perform a blood oath to promise loyalty until death to his twin.

Ccino had caught him with a knife out.

Nightmare blinks back into the here and now as Ccino looks at him expecting with his arms crossed.

Nightmare blinks as he looks to the side for a moment. How is it that even wiht him being taller than Ccino he still feels small compared to him? "They were innocent."

Ccino looks unimpressed as he crosses his arms "Now with less lies."

Nightmare blinks and shoot his traitorous tendrils a look. No doubt they did something to give his little slight lie away. Ccino jsut raises a brow as he taps his foot.

Nightmare speaks again "Most of them were innocent. I didnt want them to get hang for something they did not do."

Ccino hums as he waits "And the murderer?"

Nightmare looks at Ccino "how did you know?"

Ccino sighs but has a small smile on his face. an old fond feeling as ccino looks at him and the tiny part of nightmare that had been stressed relaxes. Ccino just keeps looking slightly amused "There is a reason i told you to get out more. you only hear so many things from people in the castle nightmare. You need to go out to hear everything from everyone. I know who he is because i go to the market sometimes."

nightmare gives aslow nod as he looks away. So Ccino knows that nightmare brought a serial killer home. great.

Ccino sighs and sits on the couch for visitors and Nightmare joins him instead of sitting in his own chair.

Ccino looks at him "Just... tell me what happened. Why did you decide this?"

Ngihtmare looks at his hands. again slightly shocked to see the goop. It never stains anything yet it feels like a reminder. It is dirty. it isn't the holy light the powers promised. it is weird and looks diseased which is fitting for him. someone who betrayed everyone. who betrayed his twin. He may have gone it to protect dream. But even dream doesn't see this.

Where does that leave him?

Ccino's hand rubs his cheek and Nightmare shakes himself out of it. Ccino looks so worried as he rubs his skull "Hey... it is okay... i am not mad at you. I am worried about you. I am sorry if it seemed like i was mad."

Nightmare knows ccino isn't mad at him. Not like that at least. Nightmare can feel that. But he likes that ccino still tells him as much too.

Nightmare sighs as he leans into the gentle hold and touch. Ccino had always been one of the few to hold him. As his and Dream's babysitter it had been his job. But Ccino had always truly cared about them both. The moment that Nightmare could feel emotions he had been shocked by that.

That Ccino held no hatred for him. Not even a little bit. He enver blamed either Nightmare or Dream for his situation.

Nightmare speaks softly "The... kngihts you picked out. they were amazing. They showed much promise and would have made fine warriors."

Ccino hums as he keeps rubbing his skull "But?"

Nightmare sighs "They hated me. Even if with time they would eventually grow loyal and accept their place. They would forever hold resentment towards me for making them come."

Ccino hums and nods "I get it. It were only options Ngihtmare. there will be more people who fit the job."

Nightmare feels another part of him relax. knowing that Ccino still understands him "Killer wasn't afraid."

Ccino hums questioning.

Nightmare speaks slowly "He wasn't afraid. Not of me. Not of his situation. He stood up when near me. He didn't cower and he didn't hide." he sighs as he leans into the hug. He shouldn't need these anymore. He is an adult now and not that awkward young teen anymore. Nightmare shouldn't still count this much on the other "He saw me and didn't hate me. He knew who i was and didn't hate me. It was... new."

Ccino still feels unsure but he holds him still "And that gave you hope? That maybe if soemone didn't start with that hatred they could maybe become truly loyal?"

Ngihtmare shrugs. He isn't quite sure. he didn't think that far ahead. He just didn't want to lose another person who didn't hate him.

Ccino sighs as he keeps rubbing his skull and the back of his neck "I won't say i trust him. Because i don't. And I worry about you. I am scared he will end up hurting you."

Nightmare rolls his eyes as he answers "I have yet to even lose a fight and i had almost no training." all because of his tentacles and his newfoudn power.

Ccino just holds him tighter "There are more ways someone can hurt you Nightmare."

Nightmare feels the fear of before return. THe idea that somoene would kill Ccino. "If... if him being here makes you feel unsafe i will return him to the guards."

Ccino laughs and shakes his skull "Ngihtmare I am fine. I am not scared for me."

Nightmare keeps holding him as he feels himself start to shake. fears he had been trying to ignore and push away return to the front of his mind "Waht if they realise just how important you are? What if they try to hurt you to hurt me? What if they kill you to hurt me? Ccino maybe it is better if you hide." hide... hide away... out of sight out of mind.

Ccino just rubs his neck "It is okay Nightmare. It is okay. They don't know. and even if they have an idea your reputation adn the past of this country will just make them think I am someone who will be used as sacrifice last. That i will be punished last or least."

Nightmare shakes as he keeps holding the one person who remained "What if they hurt you because of me?"

Ccino is so calm and sure "then it would be on them. Not you. You don't want others to hurt me. It wouldn't be your fualt Nightmare and I will never see it as your fault. It is okay."

Ngihtmare still feels unsure. He made it obviously clear to Killer that Ccino is improtant. Killer is smart and Nightmare has no idea what he could be planning.

Another thought enters his mind. Somethign he had found early on in his ruling.

A very very damning piece of paper. a slave contract.

Nightmare speaks softly "I am sorry you are stuck here..."

Ccino shrugs as he keeps rubbing his back "Not your fault."

Nightmare shakes as he holds him "I.... I can undo it... I can give you back your freedom..."

Ccino had been taken from his home. Sold to the castle with a very clear purpose. First to be a babysitter. and later... well... Drema had been planning to be all powerful and go from young teen to adult in just one ritual. There is a reason Ccino's age had been only 6 years older than them.

Ccino had been suposed to be Dream's from the very start.

Ccino hums "A nice thought. Not that i thought about that contract in a long time. It hardly matters nowadays. Not like I can just leave."

Nightmare feels his grip tighten and his tendrils curl around them. He doesn't want to let go of the one person who cared. The one person he could count on to help him. To give a single shit about Nightmare. But... but how long will it take before Ccino starts hating him? If Nightmare keeps him here?

Nightmare holds him close "I... I can get you a horse... I can give you gold..." He will just use some of the treasury. Ccino deserves it. "I can send some guards with you on your way. You could go wherever you want. Back to your family."

Ccino locks both his arms around his skull and hums softly. an old lullaby and Nightmare stops. The amount of memories almost hurt. It was always Ccino who held him on bad nights. Or when he was sad. Or when everyone pushed him aside again.

Ccino speaks sfotly "Nightmare. When I say i can't leave i don't mean i physically can't leave. It means i don't want to. I decided a while ago i want to stay here Nightmare."

Nightmare shakes but refuses to let go "What... what about your family?" Ccino's fmaily have to love him. Ccino is so amazing. There is no way he isn't missed dearly after he was stolen from them.

Ccino sighs sadly "Nightmare... They have been killed a long time ago. The day i was taken the guards made sure i knew there was nothing to return to. even if i ran." Ngihtmare feels himself freeze. why... why had he thought?

Ccino rubs his skull "It hurt a lot but i accepted a long time ago Nightmare. I accepted that you two were my family now... and well... now it is just you. and it is okay. I am okay with that. I will always support you Nightmare." he grins "You may be older now but i like to think i am still the older brother."

Nightmare feels aprt of himself break as he just sinks fully into Ccino's hold "please don't also leave me." it is weak. it is pathetic. He should be stronger than this. He should have been prepared for this.

Ccino just covers his skull wiht his body and holds him "I am not going anywhere Nightmare. I will be by your side. I swear on my soul."

Nightmare relaxes and lets himself enjoy the comfort he should not need this badly. He enjoys it and can't help but let his eyes slide around the room. His sight finds the masks and remembers.

The masks are the highest honour. only shared with those most special.

He thinks something catlike will fit his older brother.

[penheadie]

Can we get some Skippingstone headcanons?

Oh boy where to begin I may not be as confident about these ones like I am with the past ones so there's your warning there are skippingstone shippers before me that are better than me. 

For modern AU. Whenever fall rolls around Skipp always drags Stone to go shopping for fall decorations at a thrift store or arts and crafts store (by the time that they are done shopping the car will be overflowed with a sea of pumpkins on the drive back home) 

Whenever fall rolls around in Ramshackle however Skipp and Stone will always share a scarf together as they walk down by the lake at the park despite the weird and odd stares they get from the rich people even though it's public property.

Skipp and Stone do in fact go down to the lake and skip stones together. Sometimes they write their names on the stones before they throw them into the lake. There's no significance to it, maybe it's just something for them to leave behind when they eventually do pass so people know that they were there together.

Skipp and Stone still very much miss the time that the trio spent together taking care of Maggot. So instead they go around the streets adopting stray dogs and cats trying to take them in and take care of them. 

Skipp makes flower crowns for Stone.

Skipp is panromantic and Stone is demisexual.

Stone is very aware of the fact he is considered quite the looker in Ramshackle as oftentimes he will face unwanted attention from people on the streets, being able to tell people's intentions with him as people only ever see him as just a body instead of actually a person (Because yes guys can face harassment too it's a people problem) which lead him to have even more fear and anxiety towards dating people because he's scared that people are only ever concerned with getting in his pants and sexualizing him. He sometimes vents to Skipp about his frustration that people only ever see him as just a piece of meat, only for Skipp to reassure him that he doesn't look at him that way. It's one of the things that drew Stone closer to him.

Stone sometimes has doubts about his identity and he sometimes worries that Skipp may want more from him, Skipp always reassures him that they don't need to do anything physically intimate in order for him to feel loved and valued. Reassuring him that it's okay to just want to hug, kiss or hold hands with somebody and that he should never do anything that makes him uncomfortable. Love without intimacy exists for them and their love language is always spending quality time together and doing wholesome couple things together. Their relationship is very much founded on music and the power of listening to what the other has to say with how important words can be, being sweet and sentimental towards each other. 

Whenever Stone is being sweet and sentimental Skipp makes it sure to give him as much time as possible to get all of his words and feelings out as he know that he struggles a lot with opening up about his emotions. He always reassures him that it's okay to keep going and that he loves hearing what he has to say.

Skipp absolutely loves to listen to Stone whenever he rants about his problems even though he's probably heard them a thousand times it means that Stone is opening up to him and it's an opportunity that he never lets go to waste he always wants to be his shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen to it's part of their big dynamic that goes beyond just shipping.

Whenever Stone is sad and going through a tough time Skipp will usually help explain things by singing songs and love ballads just for him. 

Whenever Skipp and Stone are alone together Pebble definitely harasses them with the gay gay homosexual gay.

Stone and Skipp do NOT leave Vinnie behind. They make sure to never leave Vinnie behind or make her feel like she's being forgotten. Ever since they started dating it changed their dynamic so they always make sure to reassure Vinnie and keep her included in their activities. Reassuring her that she is just as important.

Even though Stone and Skipp are no way fit to be parents it's one of their dreams to adopt a child off of the streets so they can try and continue the legacy of their small family. They really want to give a child that was orphaned the same opportunity to find a happy family that they did. So when they do eventually adopt a child together it is a little girl that conveniently looks like a mix of both of them.