#this au hurts so much man

[wereh0gz]

The character relationships in corrupted au drive me insaneeee

Anyways. Sonic and Amy

Amy's not taking Sonic's amnesia super well, even though she tries not to show it much. She loved him, still loves him, but now that he doesn't remember her, he's a lot... colder towards her. Not in an outright rude or hateful way, but he keeps his distance. He's a lot like how he was with her when they met for the very first time in the classic era, keeping their interactions at a minimum

And that really, REALLY hurts

Like, she gets it. He's got amnesia and doesn't remember her and everything they went through together, and there's very little they can do about that. But she can't help but feel a little heartbroken every time he looks at her weird, or turns away from her, or pushes her away. She wants to help so, so badly, but he won't let her in

She's fine with not being as affectionate as she used to bc it makes him uncomfortable. She fine with finding other ways to communicate when he can't talk (even if he often outright refuses to when given other options and shuts himself off) bc he's confused and overwhelmed and maybe even a bit angry at his circumstances. She gets it's hard on him. It's a lot! And it sucks! She knows it sucks!

And yet

She misses the Sonic she knew. The one she fell in love with. The one she's admired since the moment they met. She *grieves* him, but it feels selfish. He's still there, physically, at least. And he's suffering just as much, if not more. She should be happy he's still with them. She *is* happy

But he's not the same. Might never be the same again. And she can't pretend that he is or else it'll hurt more for *both of them*

So she leaves him be. She gives him space and waits until he's ready to come back to her

*If* he's ever ready

[mirensiart]

a small silly comic for the pain sharing curse au before I throw the really painful comics at y’all

(I also didn’t feel like coloring this one)

also can confirm, my baby cousin once said I was super cringe and I haven’t recovered since :(

(wind apologizes later though since his grandma raised him right)

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[sepezzz]

merlin fanart?????? in 2023????????

more context for these in the tags

[moeblob]

son boy raccoon trash can man suffering in a dnd au as a cleric bc his warlock will not stop committing murders and he has to keep coming up with reasons murder is valid to convince the gm its fine and under control

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Another DPXDC post for the first time

Yall remember winged danny? Yea me too the good ol days lads

But imagine Danny in Gothem cause hes either on the run from his family or the GIW you decide boys on the run and probably alone.

He gets picked up by the Waynes at some point and eventually he goes to have the “im not normal talk” but they all know. He is a meta or something. They have been waiting for him to be ready to tell them, if ever. They would accept him no matter what.

Except the time comes and he just “I have wings” and like everyone is shocked™️ Danny gets the idea hes about to be rejected and starts to fold in on himself and someone better snap out of it before the kid cries. Alfred is the one to speak first probably.

Just everyone so shocked but I mean it’s more a shock that they missed this instead of that Danny has wings. After that they fully accept him and apologise. Someone says the “we thought you were about to tell us about your powers!” Danny just has his own little moment before shouting “YOU GUYS KNOW I HAVE GHOST POWERS!?!?!!!?”

Anyway they move on and Danny hardly brings the wings up again but he does get seen around with them every once in a while. But eventually they find out hes not taking care of them as he should. It’s probably Duke who sees Danny with his messy wings and offers to help him.

Let Danny get help with self care ok. The Bats would all go nuts learning how to take care of Danny if he ever asks.

Now imagine the reverse of this and they all know he has wings but not that hes the High Ghost King Phantom.

[sleepy-spacetronaut]

Detox old man yaoi - Queer platonic BillFord

Start note : Okay little clarification, Bill in the top right corner is crying, but the picture quality is bad so it’s hard to tell what the heck is going on. And I apologize for Ford’s weird haircut, I’ll give him his fluffy hair back (I tend to mess with character’s hair a lot…never on purpose , I swear 😁 unless I make them bald.).

Once Bill returns to Gravity Falls for the sake of his redemption arc, his relationship with Stanford is bound to be rocky. They bicker a lot and often cannot get along on the way to do domestic things. It would take a long time before they start to bond together again , considering how the trauma of the past abuse left Ford scarred for life.

Thought since Bill can’t do much with his limited powers, Ford doesn’t perceive him as a threat. They hang out together sometimes when Bill doesn’t have to work at the cash register or around the shack. Bill still had trouble identifying what exactly he feels for Stanford, and would try to pursue him romantically for around a month before giving up. (I headcanoned Ford as oriented aro-ace for this specific AU)

But sometimes they have wholesome moments they share: Bill and Ford seldom sit on the couch together, and when it happens, they cuddle up and Ford combs his fingers through Bill’s hair while reading, it’s soothing for both of them. Bill tends to fall asleep very quickly after that—he’s desperately touch-starved and has no idea—-

Bonus (something from my camera roll) :

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Though The Path May Be Long, I Shall Find You; Leona Kingscholar

A path lies ahead, some are more treacherous than others. At the end of the winding, coloured footsteps is where they can rest; a bird directing them forward, made out of precious stone.

Main Character; Leona Kingscholar

Supporting Characters; Kifaji, Jack Howl

Content; Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort, some inner turmoil, bird shenanigans, can be read as platonic, familial, or platonic and that was done on purpose

Content Warning; injury (Leona), I do mention scars/marks but I don't mention where/what they're from

Word Count; 5.5 K

Author's Note; The bird messengers are inspired by mutual relationships that people and some animals have with birds. As with all of my writing, do NOT put my -or other creators' for that matter- works into AI. I did struggle a bit with writing this, so it may read a bit differently, but hey, I wrote it and that's what matters.

Ruggie's Story | Jack's Story

Prologue

Much like the Sea Witch gifted merfolk with soul matches, the King of Beasts did much the same with beastmen. Instead of a song playing in their head or their soul being tugged at by their match, beastmen would receive a messenger made of stone. Typically, this stone messenger would come in the form of a bird, as they can travel far greater distances than a terrestrial creature. And the stone represented what their match would help them overcome in this lifetime. It represented a confidant, an advisor, a friend; the person that they needed most.

And once they were ready to find their match, glowing footsteps would lead them along the path.

These messengers are delivered during the night of their fifth birthday by the southern winds and remain dormant until the time is right for them to start searching their soul match, typically around their thirteenth birthday. If a child does not receive their messenger, it is said to be a marker of bad luck, a bad omen. Not only just for the beastman in question, but for their family and the community at large. This marker is of even greater weight should a member of the royal family not receive a messenger. The last time that happened, a great drought hit the land, causing mass famine and illness. Since then, any member of the royal family who does not receive a messenger is forced to abdicate the throne, even if they are the firstborn. For the common folk though, it holds less weight, even if it is still considered a bad omen.

What if someone does receive a messenger but they don’t activate? What does that mean?

It could mean several different things. It could mean that their soul match has passed before they had the chance to find them. It could mean that their match wasn’t here yet, still to come into this world. These lifeless messengers often bring a sense of loneliness or bitterness, and many a beastman try their best to discard these cruel reminders. No matter how hard they try though, be it magic, force, or distance, the little stone messenger will always come back. Always there as a reminder of what could have been. A reminder that only they can see. The little stone bird will sit by them, vacant of life, but watching them still.

But only they could see their messenger, the only other person who could see it being their match. They would only become apparent to each other once their person decided that they wanted to find their match, that they were ready. Upon finding each other, the two birds will fly around the two, performing an aerial dance. Once this dance is completed, their match’s bird will land on their shoulder, and their bird will land on their match’s in return.

And once these messengers activate they will stop at nothing to guide their person to their match, and cannot be destroyed. It could take hours, days, weeks, months, years, or even several lifetimes, but the bird is determined to find their match, even if the person wanted nothing to do with them. The bird won’t stop, and even though the path may be long, they will always find their match. No matter what.

…

…

Main Story

…

...

Leona had somehow managed to escape his various caregivers and the supervision of Kifaji… again. But who could blame him? The palace wasn’t the best place for a rambunctious four-year-old. He wanted to play. To explore. To not sit through Kifaji’s boring lectures and lessons. He wanted to just be a kid. And Faleena was always busy, not always able to play hunting games with him and leaving him without a playing partner. So it becomes a habit, to escape the confines of the palace, to trade the grand halls for the grasslands.

The little lion prince continued to walk through the tall grass, running his hands through the swaying blades. The sun was starting to kiss the earth as the sky slowly melted into night, and he could hear the various calls of animals from the brush. But he didn’t pay them much mind, since he was told that they would never harm him, as he was part of the royal family. 

Something hopped out of the grass, catching the young lion-beastman’s attention; a butterfly. His eyes followed the slow wing beats and he decided to chase after it. The butterfly didn’t seem to notice or care, staying just out of reach and continuing on its lazy flight path.

“Come here,” Leona called after it, trying to jump and catch it, but the insect avoided his grasp. “Don’t fly away! Can we be friends?”

The butterfly eventually landed on a tree, high up on a branch. Now, why was Leona so determined to catch it? Well, he wanted to get a closer look at it, maybe have it land on his nose before letting it go back into the bush. It was a challenge, one that he wasn’t backing out of so easily.

Leona looked up into the tree and his ears twitched. “Fine then! If you’re not going to come down, I’m coming up!” He started making his way up the tree. Oh, if Kifaji could see him now, he would have grown a white hair on the spot seeing the young prince so high up. But the thought of his advisor’s fretting just made him climb up higher even faster. There! The butterfly was almost within his reach, just a little bit farther-

The butterfly took off, flying off into the sunset, just as he was about to finally catch it too. Leona sighed to himself. At least he had a nice view of the amber sun dipping behind the horizon, turning the sky into warm oranges, pinks, reds, deep blues and violets. Rustling from the canopy caught his attention, and he looked up, curious as to what was making the sound. Sitting on the branch above him was a red-billed hornbill, cleaning its plumage.

“Hi,” he waved at the bird, swinging his legs back and forth.

The bird stopped preening, its full attention focused on Leona. Further up in the tree, he could hear the faint chirping of baby chicks. 

Leona stood up on the branch, getting closer to the bird. “Can I see your family? Do you have baby chicks? I wanna see!” He asked excitedly, getting far too close to the bird’s personal space and nest.

The hornbill ruffled its feathers and took flight, but it didn’t go very far. Instead, it turned back and swopped by Leona’s head, trying to tell the child to back away. Instead of backing off though, Leona caught the bird mid-flight. The bird, fearing for its own and its family’s well-being, scratched at his face, leaving behind a large scratch mark going over his left eye. 

He let go of the bird, hissing in pain, teardrops starting to form. “Kifajiiiiiiii,” he yelled, tumbling down the tree and running back to the palace, tail in between his legs. “KIFAJIIIIII!” He didn’t want this to happen. He just wanted to play. To have fun. To be a kid.

…

…

Leona went to bed on the night before his fifth birthday, lightly tracing the still-healing scar on his face. It was still sore, and it stung, both physically and emotionally. Why does nobody like me? He snapped out of his thoughts though, shaking his head. 

“You have no one but to blame but yourself, your majesty,” Kifaji said, standing in the doorway to his room. He strode in, and although his words may have sounded harsh, there was a softness in his expression. Sighing, he placed a cool, damp, cloth on the prince’s face. “What were you thinking? You should know better than to run off-” He stopped, noticing the conflicted look on the young boy’s face. Nagging can wait, right now Leona needed comfort, not a lecturer. “…But what’s most important is that you are alright.”

Leona sniffled, “What about my face though? It hurts… I just wanted to play… And it’s going to leave a scar-”

Kifaji smiled softly, “It will heal in time, as all things do. Besides, the King of Beasts had a mark just like it. It may hurt now, and perhaps it will leave a scar, but it proves that you overcame hardships. That you’ve learned lessons.” He tucked in the prince, adjusting the blankets around him. “As for the bird, I believe they were just protecting their family. Your mother would do much the same for you and your brother, as would your father. Now, off to bed with you, as you’ll be receiving your messenger tomorrow.”

“What do you think they’ll be,” Leona asked, his visible eye filled with curiosity. “Do you think it’ll be a bearded vulture? Like Faleena’s?”

Kifaji hummed, “I can’t say, as only you will know that come morning. Now, off to sleep with you. After all, tomorrow is a big day.” The blue-haired man dusted himself off, double-checked the cloth to make sure it was still damp and then left for the night. Leaving the young prince alone.

Leona picked at the dressing on his eye and looked out his window. Outside the stars were shining bright, and the songs of night birds and insects filled the air with their rhythmic melody. A warm breeze played with the curtains, casting dancing shadows onto the walls.

“Please,” Leona whispered to the stars, “please, please, please bring me a friend… I just want a friend.” He pleaded to the night sky. The warm breeze now playing with his hair, lulling him gently off to the land of dreams. 

His dream was calm, a starlit sky ahead of him and shifting, glowing sand beneath his feet. All I want is a friend. Can I please have a friend? But he heard nothing, just the gentle hissing of the shifting glowing sand beneath his feet as he walked toward the horizon. A large lion stood in the distance, glowing green eyes looking towards him, beckoning him forward. But when he tried to walk towards them, the sand shifted, having turned into tar. And when he looked back up, the lion was gone. Leaving him with nothing but glowing sand and black tar.

When he woke up in the morning, a small hornbill made out of green calcite sat on his bed stand, silent and watching. And it would have been in perfect condition save for the large scar that cut across the left side of its face, mirroring Leona’s to the T. He touched his scar, remembering that fateful night only three weeks ago. “Why,” he whispered. Why did it have to be a hornbill? Why would the King of Beasts gift him a messenger that had hurt him? Why would he gift a messenger that left behind a scar? And why did it have a scar of its own?

…

…

…

It’s been fifteen years since Leona received his messenger, and it has yet to come to life. Yet to fly around. Yet to show him any sign that he had a match out there, somewhere. He took it as a sign that they had either died before they had ever met or, a more bitter thought, that they had yet to enter the world. He didn’t want to be some glorified babysitter.

He has tried to get rid of the damned bird. Thrown it as far as he could when he was younger. Used banishment spells on it as he learned about magic. And when his unique magic had manifested itself, he even used King’s Roar on it. But no matter what he tried, or how hard, the bird always reappeared, even when he turned it into sand. Still as silent and lifeless as it always has been since the first day it had shown up in his life. Still, a bitter reminder that he would rather forget about and pretend never happened.

Even in the ceremonial room, it followed him, taking a liking to his shoulder despite him flinging it off at any chance he could, before just stuffing the annoying thing in his pocket. People would give him a weird look, as they couldn’t see what was pestering the lion beastman, but they ignored him for the most part. Well, most people that is.

“Something bothering you,” Vil murmured under his breath, just loud enough so that only he could hear. “You seem more… irritated than usual.”

Of course, the Pomefiore House Warden would notice his behaviour. He wouldn’t even be surprised if that other third-year and creepy stalker, Rook, was keeping tabs on him. “And, what’s it to you?”

Vil raised a brow, “Just something I took notice of. Can’t be giving your new dorm members a bad impression on the first day.” He paused, as the ceremony was beginning, and welcomed the new Pomefiore students with a practiced smile.

Leona rolled his eyes but welcomed his new wards albeit not as prim, proper, and practiced. They deserved something real, and not dripping with formality. “Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever,” he yawned, having missed his usual nap that he would have at this time of day. “I’m going back to the dorm. If you’re in Savanaclaw House, follow me.”

That’s odd though, that blithering fool of a headmage was nowhere to be seen, and Leona could hear all of the hushed whisperings amongst the students. But he could hear the faint footsteps of two people making their way down the hall. And low and behold, the headmage entered the room in his usual tiring and flamboyant way. Huh, looks like one of the freshmen hasn’t been sorted. He didn’t really care though, even when that cat tried to set the room on fire, or the bickering with Vil. This was all so tiresome, honestly, why did he attend this again?

He didn’t pay much attention to the new Savanaclaw students, leading the way silently. And even though he couldn’t see the other beastmen’s messengers, he could hear the faint rustling of wind as they flew about behind them. His eye twitched, the weight of the stone hornbill weighing heavy in his pant pocket, still cold, still lifeless.

Upon reaching his room, he promptly flopped onto the bed, tossing the bird to the other side of the room with a satisfying crack. Leona closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, promptly falling asleep. Back to that damned dream where he was stuck in the shifting sands at night, the only source of light being the distant, twinkling stars and the faint gold glow beneath him. And the tar had grown, nearly drowning out the glowing gold.

The stone bird righted itself and came to rest by his head. The orange light from the setting sun warming it. As the sun was traded for the night, the stone bird blinked, finally and slowly coming to life after all these years of stillness.

…

Leona felt something pulling at his hair. Groaning, he grabbed the closest pillow and haphazardly swung it about, trying to get rid of the intruder. “Cheka,” he hissed, as the first person that popped into mind for this annoying behaviour was none other than his young nephew. But when he cracked an eye open, the cheerful five-year-old was nowhere to be seen. Something was still pulling at his hair though. 

Flipping over, he finally laid eyes on the intruder, and he stiffened. Sitting on the edge of the bed was his messenger, and it was alive. After a decade of stillness, the pale green crystal bird was finally alive and moving about. He rubbed at his eyes, and the bird was now walking towards him, doing its little call and looking way too happy for his liking. What the- What kind of sick joke is this?

“Oi,” he pushed the crystal bird away, as it had tugged at his hair again. “Cut it out.” Why was it finally awake now of all times? It’s been ten years since it should have awakened, back on his tenth birthday. And now, out of the blue, the now alive and annoying bird had finally decided that now was the time. “Why are you alive?”

The bird flipped onto its back and played with his school uniform ribbon. Why did he expect an actual answer? It was a stone bird. But Leona’s brow was furrowed. Why was the bird finally awake? His face soured even more. I swear if they’re a kid… He didn’t want to deal with another Cheka, especially not for his soul match. Tch, why did I even bother waking up? The bird continued to play with the ribbon, rolling about on the bed.

Leona rolled his eyes and ignored the bird, at least it was pre-occupying itself and not annoying him. Hornbills are playful birds after all, so it makes sense that his messenger would be too. Why again, did the King of Beasts send him a hornbill as his messenger again? “I’m not going to go out of my way and find them,” he huffed, grabbing his ribbon back from the bird. 

The hornbill stopped playing and snapped at his hand. “You need to find them,” they spoke in his mind. Ugh, he forgot that they can do that. That the messengers could speak to them in their mind when they deemed it as an important matter. “And they are not a child. They are around your age, from what I can sense. You need to find them.” All of the playfulness from before vanished, suddenly reminding him of Kifaji. Stern… Disappointed.

“What I need is for you to leave well enough alone.” He swatted at the bird, but it flew off and sat on the balcony where they could watch at a safe distance but still have an eye on him. “I don’t need or want you… or them.” They weren’t there then, why should I want them now?

The hornbill ruffled in irritation, “They couldn’t be there, not at the time at least. And you’re lying to yourself.” Their tone shifted, wavering, like they knew something. “You will need them sooner than you realize. When you change your mind, do call.” With that, the bird took off into the morning, leaving behind Leona with his thoughts. 

The lion beastman tensed and relaxed his fingers, brow furrowed. “Like hell I’ll need them sooner rather than later,” he muttered to himself. Today had barely begun and he already wanted for it to end. He knew nothing good would come of that bird.

…

…

…

You held the green crystal in your hands, turn

ing it over and looking at the carved features. The hornbill was wiggling its toes and singing to itself happily. It was a cheerful little thing and always kept itself busy. And on occasion, you would see a similar bird sitting on the roof, but they never came down from their perch and would fly off before you could investigate further.

You had no idea why or how you came to possess the stone bird. No idea why it was alive the morning after your sudden arrival in Twisted Wonderland. No idea why there was a near-perfect replica sitting on your roof. And you had no idea what it all meant. But in the short time that you had your crystalline friend, you’ve grown attached. Yes, they liked to cause some mischief every now and then, but they were very sweet. They even took a liking to resting on your armchair as you worked, singing their little song.

The little bird even tried to fight that third-year Savanaclaw student, Leona, for you. During the first encounter, where he nearly took a tooth for stepping on his tail they had flown around in a panic; which wasn’t much help. But during his overblot, they had taken a hit from his unique magic, King’s Roar, for you. You had thought that your little friend was gone, forever turned into sand and lost to the wind. Even the bird that sat on the roof went missing for two weeks, but then they were back. Playful as ever before, but there was something else there as well, a sadness of sorts. Frustrated. Restless. Now they also had a large gash, from where they had been hit and it mirrored your own cuts and bruises that you had sustained from the fight. You also noticed that it had other marks, ones that you had sustained back in your dimension.

You should have been angry, but you weren’t. You felt tired, and a sense of guilt. Why had this little bird risked its life for you?

“Prefect,” Jack’s voice snapped you back to the present. Oh right, you had just been forcibly evicted from Ramshackle… the only place you could call home in this world. Now you were sitting in the Savanaclaw Dorm. “Are you alright?”

You blinked, coming out of your thoughts. Jack, even though you two had only just become acquaintances(?), friends(?), was observant that you were spacing off. “Ah… no,” you sigh, all of the stress of the past weeks catching up with you. “No, I’m not alright.”

Jack’s ears twitched, and your crystal friend hopped up onto your shoulder, rubbing its beak on your face. “Do you want to talk about it?” He looked at your shoulder, where the bird was sitting.

“Can you see them?” You could lay your heart bare right now, but you knew most of the answers to them. What you wanted to know was about the bird, and what it meant. 

Jack shook his head, “No, but I can hear the flapping of wings.” His brow pinched, thinking. “Has anyone told you? About soul matches?” 

Your bird hopped up onto your head and got comfortable up there. “Jack,” you breathed, rubbing your temples, “no one has told me anything.” You paused, realizing how harsh the last part came out. “Sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean-”

But it’s true. No one had told you anything about what a soul match is. Anything about what the bird meant. Anything about how you were possibly going to get back home; if it was possible at all? Anything of real importance when it came to living in this world besides the fact that there were seven pseudo-gods who were villains in your world and that magic was real. You had the scars to prove that much. And you were tired, so tired of not knowing anything.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he placed a hand by yours, in case you needed to hold on to someone. “I don’t know your entire story, Prefect, but I do know that today was stressful… I can tell you more about soul matches, and what your feathered friend means. But that can wait until you’re ready.”

You felt the crystal bird shuffle a bit, letting out a little snore. “I want to know.”

“There once was a king, both noble and fair. Who sought to bring joy to his people’s hearts. The King of Beasts travelled to the horizon and made an agreement with the setting Sun and the whispering winds. On the eve of their sixth year, beastmen and residents of the Sunset Savannah would be gifted a crystal bird messenger.  No two were ever the same, as the birds would carry the marks and scars of their person. The crystal itself holds a message on what their match will help them with. These birds are only visible to their person, and can only be seen once they have decided that they wanted to find their match. And though the path may be long, and lead to many different crossroads, the little crystal bird will always find their match.”

Jack’s explanation of the bird messengers played in your head as you stared up at the ceiling. Said bird was sleeping beside you, and much like the story, it had all the same marks you had. The pale green crystal shone softly in the moonlight. Apparently made out of green calcite; a stone meaning to expand your compassion, to heal, of letting go of anger and resentment. You knew that you needed to work on that, but so did your match.

…

…

…

Leona was still at ends with himself after his overblot, and that herbivore from Ramshackle was now also crashing at his dorm of all places. But he did owe them, and like hell he was going to let some octo-punk get the better hand. He also happened to overhear the familiar story that Jack had shared with them. So he hadn’t been hearing things, the Prefect did have a messenger. But why did the thought of them having a messenger put a sour taste in his mouth? 

You need to find them. You will need them sooner than you realize. He hated to admit it, but the stone bird was right. Maybe if he had taken their offer he would have found them by now. Maybe he wouldn’t have overblotted… Maybe he would finally know that someone could accept him, not because of his title or royal status, but because, just maybe, they would accept him for just being him.

“You were right,” he huffed, turning over and looking to the balcony.

The crystal hornbill was back like it had never left. “Are you ready then?” It flew over and took a roost on his forearm. Are you ready to start healing? It wasn’t spoken, but it was implied, especially after all of that blot had surfaced. 

Leona shifted to an upright position, looking up to the stars, feeling the warm air gently surround him carrying the scent of warm earth and blossoming night flowers. “... Not yet.”

The bird nipped at one of his ears, “What are you waiting for then? An invitation?” It continued picking at his ears, trying to get Leona to action.

His ears flattened, from irritation but also to escape the attack. “Oi, cut it out, would ya? I want to make it up to them first before waltzing in like some ‘prince charming’ into their life.” He rolled his eyes at the cliched term. He didn’t view himself like that, and he didn’t want his soul match getting that idea either. He knew that he had aspects of himself that he needed to work on… That he needed to heal. But he didn’t want them taking the brunt of it. He wanted to prove to them, that besides his initial rejection, he was trying. That he wanted to make this work… Whatever this proved to be. Be they a friend, found family, or even something else. He was tired, so tired of being alone… maybe he could finally let someone in.

“Hmph, as long as you don’t keep them waiting for too long.” But the hornbill’s stoney expression softened, joking. Leona didn’t notice how the bird looked off to the side, looking at your sleeping form, nodding at the matching bird sitting beside you. “And they are a lot closer than you think.”

Leona flopped back on the bed, making the bird take flight to avoid getting tossed about. “Mmm, what matters most is travelling the path, whatever it may look like, and finding them at the end of it. Or whatever that bedtime story was.”

Going back to sleep, he was expecting to be back in the endless glowing dunes as he usually was every night. Stuck in the tar. But tonight was different. Instead of barren sands, he was surrounded by blooming flowers, towering trees, and a pleasant filtered light radiating through the branches. He was in the botanical gardens, under his favourite tree, his hornbill chasing after some butterflies… And the lion from all those years ago was back, standing in front of him. Follow the path. Find them. And it was gone, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. He placed his over their’s, squeezing it.

…

…

You’ve noticed something different about Leona ever since you made your alliance during Azul’s overblot. Yes, he still called you herbivore, but he seemed easier to read, not as closed off. You could tell that he was joking with you by the sway of his tail, and the flicking of his ears.

“Head in the clouds again?” 

Oh right, there’s been another new development alongside Leona. Your crystalline friend now spoke to you. Well, not really speaking, more so talking in your mind. The first time it happened you nearly threw it across the room, but honestly, what were you expecting? A talking crystal bird shouldn’t have been that shocking to you after everything you’ve been through.

Your attention snapped back to the lecture Professor Crewel was giving a certain group of first-years about not eating during lab. “Just there’s been a lot,” you said. Seems like there wasn’t going to be any new content taught today since somebody decided to eat the ingredients and get rushed to the infirmary room. You wonder if Crewel just said that his hair was dyed or if he was going white early due to the impulsive thoughts and actions of his students. So you were able to freely discuss as much as you pleased with your stone friend. “What can you tell me about them?”

The bird paused in its fuddling with a spare pen, “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“You need to travel down that path on your own decision, not influenced by anyone,” they took off, leaving you alone for the first time on their own free accord. But gold, glowing footsteps followed them, leading the way.

I need to travel the path on my own decision. You knew those glowing footsteps would lead you towards your soul match. But why did they lead to Ramshackle? 

…

Meanwhile, in the botanical gardens, Leona was sitting comfortably under one of his favourite trees, eyes closed and tail swishing back and forth peacefully. But he was awake, and he was listening in to the conversation of his hornbill and a new voice.

“How do you think it will go?”

He recognized the voice of his hornbill.

There was shuffling on the branch, a new voice entering his head. “They are both quite stubborn, but seeing the progress thus far, even without them knowing, is promising. But they must go forward, forge their own path.”

He cracked an eye open, seeing the two green birds sitting together on their perch. But something else caught his eye, glowing footsteps. Follow it. So he followed them, the footsteps. Leona saw the other hornbill, his soul match’s hornbill take flight, the footsteps leading in the same direction. He looked back under the tree. To follow or not to follow, that was the question…

He ran after the footsteps, his hornbill clutching onto his shoulder for dear life.

“WHAT IS WITH THE SUDDEN CHANGE OF HEART?!” They squawked, falling off and flying beside him.

Leona rounded a corner, nearly running head-first into a Scarabia student, but he ignored him and kept on running, getting weird looks from everyone. “I’m tired of waiting,” he snapped. But also, he knew that there was going to be no perfect time to find them. He realizes what he needs to work on. He realizes that it will be a rocky path. That it will take time to heal. But he knew that whoever was at the end of the glowing footsteps, that they had the matching hornbill. That they were right. That they were his equal in all things. Regardless of status. Regardless of upbringing. Regardless of what even his first insecure thoughts were. 

He stopped running, looking to where the footsteps disappeared under the door. The front door of Ramshackle Dorm. He put his hand on the doorknob, but he didn’t turn it.

They are a lot closer than you think. They weren’t able to be there for you for a reason. So it wasn’t just a sense of owing someone then. That bitter taste in his mouth from when he found out you had a soul match was jealousy that it could be someone other than him. Of course, it was you. One of the first people in a long time where he felt like you weren’t looking down at him, or just judging on initial interactions. That you accepted him. That you rolled your eyes whenever he felt like being snarky with you. That you bantered with him. That he felt… lighter with you.

But his hand didn’t move. He took it off the knob. He wasn’t just going to barge in. So he knocked on the wood, three gentle tap tap taps.

You looked up from the busted wall you were trying to patch up, the ghosts having alerted you that someone was waiting at the door for you. The fact that they were waiting surprised you, usually people would just come in unannounced or just kick the door down. But they were waiting. You made your way to the door and looked through a large crack. What was Leona doing here?

You opened the door, and you noticed the same bird that watched after you from the roof. Both of your birds took flight and danced with the other before coming down and landing on both of your shoulders. Performing the soul match dance.

"I'm glad it's you."

Fin!

Link to Masterlist

[fighting-these-demons]

Divorce Saga Domon - A Haunted Honk Prequel

Hello Internet Stranger looking up G Gundam on Tumblr dot com!

This is an idea for a fic set in an Alternate Universe involving Queer Non-Canon Relationships between the characters of the series.

If you are not looking for this content please scroll on.

If you ARE looking for this content - and you're ok with reading my and other's Headcanons for this Alternate Universe I've haphazardly spun up -

Then go ahead and feel free to:

Check The Tags Of This Post For The Pairings

and click the Read More below!

--------------------------------------

Ended up outlining a completely different fic as a Segway for an explanation instead of making progress on the Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU's Clown Motel Fic like I wanted to but uh....

For y'all's review for the AU: A Prequel Outline - Divorce Saga Domon

--------------------------------------

Hey real quick - I'm thinking of maybe changing the timeline to 2 years post canon as opposed to 3 years and change post canon.

The reason being: I had a thought that this scene could either be part if the fic or if it's getting to big then it could be a stand alone tie-in prequel fic as part of this AU but - like

Immediately Post Divorce Domon Needs Space and runs off. As one does. And he runs to Earth because he just wants to Get Lost for a while.

He has Argo smuggle him out to avoid detection.

Argo has Andrew help stow Domon in a storage hanger of a Neo Canadian supply ship that's returning to the US - they have trade often enough and share agricultural resources - which leads to Domon ending up in New York when he hits Earthside pavement.

He's privately worked on his English the last couple of months and after being dropped in New York with a different hairstyle, outfit, and accent he's unrecognizable. 

He considers making his way west to get some solitude in the wilderness, but something about that initial plan feels off now that he's on the ground.

Chibodee is also Earthside for a special series of prize fights aimed at raising charitable appeal for the US in the eyes of Neo Americans.

Domon decides to hit up Chibodee for a fight on a day between matches hoping it'll clear his head and give him the clarity to decide on a course of action. What ends up happening is an unexpected heart to heart via blows and a breakdown.

Domon is happy for Rain and Kyoji, and he knows it's not true; but he feels like he lost a piece of himself when his relationship with Rain fell apart.

Domon's instinct is to run after that but Chibodee knows this city and Domon doesn't hide out for long before Chibodee drags him back to his place to stay and just "Chill out and breathe. You don't have to be anyone but yourself here. You can take as long as you need to find out what everything changing means for you." Friends and teammates stick together.

So Domon spends a few weeks with Chibodee sparring and hanging out in New York. Chibodee does a frankly awesome job at containing his feelings because he's focusing on Domons feelings and being a good friend first and foremost. Whatever he's feeling can wait until after Domon is done going though it.

There's a bit of a twinge in Domon's heart as he leaves that he can't really place.

After he returns to Neo Japan and gets settled back into life with his family, The Dreams start.

They're mainly set in New York. Small things first like noticing Chibodee's smile and his eyes. Then sparring sessions that begin to turn lurid.

He thought these kinds of dreams would stop after he was married.... he doesn't know what to do about this.

I just figure it gives more clarity and sense of time for the journey from Comphet Marriage Dissolution to Feelings to Confession. Idk.

But I got stuck on a bit and then had this thought and needed to get it down before I lost it and it was so long it made sense to make it its own post as opposed to several replies.

The Maize and Clown Motel will probably still be 3 years and change post canon for clarification.

@thedragonchilde @amplexadversary @youreaclownnow

[triglycercule]

it must get boring as hell doing continuous repetitive genos like dust does. he probably constantly questions how his human can keep on going and like not get bored (me too tho ngl because what type of person is out there that's trying to minmax every single undertale geno route interaction???) so i say he changes things up during his own process for a variety of reasons

sometimes when he's feeling REALLY apathetic he might just view everyone as stats and precoded scripts and lines and he just goes about the geno as if he was a player playing a video game (this is incredibly hypocritical because he's acting like the player but also this is dust sans we're talking about. pinnacle of hypocrisy. he'd deny any sort of human like actions because he's not the human and what he's doing is for the greater good). also its kinda fucked because it just means that there's been so many resets that he doesn't view his friends and family as simply people that he's taking the lives of but more as just npcs and numbers. but yk of course he moves on from that episode (and refuses to acknowledge the fact that he was acting very much so like the human. nope nope nope)

or maybe whenever he feels really really really shitty about himself he just lets the human kill him sometimes. he purposely interacts with other monsters before he kills them so he has to hear them beg for mercy. he just lets himself wallow in as much guilt and pain and misery as possible because its really really addicting to be sad and upset and feel bad. and dust is never like "hey i should stop doing this because its getting in the way of be killing the human" because he knows damn well it ISNT. he's still gonna be on that him vs. human grind no matter what even if he spends a few resets fucking around and being miserable and the humans always gonna reset anyways. ALWAYS

even if he's not at lvl 20 or something but still above the human in lv then maybe he'd kill them. but then that also means that there'd still be some monsters left because he nor the human maxed out their stats. so then that's just more suffering for dust (because i really think he'd like to make himself suffer because he feels so much guilt for what he did. his suffering is self inflicted and he knows that and still does it. good for him) because he has to walk around the underground knowing that there are some people hiding in corner or something watching him and scared that he's gonna kill them because thats what he did to everyone else. some nicer monsters might go up to him and try to talk to him but dust doesn't have the chill welcoming friendly vibe sans does anymore so it's just creepy and awkward. angrier monsters might try and yell or fight him and dust just sits there and takes it because theyr totally right. to them it might just look like he killed monsters just for shits and giggles one day and theres no way for him to explain the resets without people just forgetting it in the first place so theres not much he can do except accept the suffering. what in the mental masochism

[skitskatdacat63]

I don't know how I'd ever convey this in art but. Thinking very deeply about how in boy king au, a very crucial part of characterization is that Seb is a wolf in sheep(or lamb more specifically)'s clothing and Fernando is a sheep in wolf's clothing.

Seb is very unassuming, very delicate, seemingly very vulnerable and malleable. But, deep down, he can be very ruthless. It's in the the way he hesitantly declares war, with a spark in his eye and a suppressed smirk. In the way he challenges someone to a card game or a horse race, proclaiming that he's not great, but winning every round and prancing around the room and mentioning it ad infinitum. The way he's able to instantly turn the tide in a debate in one fell swoop. By showing all his cards constantly and letting himself be vulnerable, he's making himself invulnerable. No one would ever consider him to be able to make big moves, so he wins every single time, because no one even thinks to expect it from him.

Fernando on the other hand, is constantly committed to having a looming presence and harsh reputation, but deep down, he's soft. He knows what happens to people when they're vulnerable, and he's not going to let himself be taken advantage of. The way he keeps a brave face when being informed of the marriage proposal, but goes back to his room and cries. The way he proclaims that he was always going to be the rightful ruler of Spain, but confides to Flavio that he never thought there was any real chance of it ever happening. The way he takes himself so seriously in public, but inside feels so giddy whenever he can make someone laugh. Everything to him always feels unstable and ready to crumble at any moment, and he's not willing to contribute to that by letting himself relax.

I think thats why it's very difficult for them to get along at first, because they have completely different approaches to how they carry themselves and make their way through life. Seb is confused at Fernando because he feels that he's very bland and overly serious at first, but truthfully he's not really seeing the actual Fernando. And Fernando finds Seb to be naive and easily taken advantage of, but that's because he's never seen Seb at his most cruel. Seb really loves when he eventually gets to see Fernando being vulnerable, and Fernando really admires and respects Seb when he sees him being serious. I think it just takes a while for them to show the other their full and complete selves, even the parts they can sometimes be ashamed of. There's this very compelling dichotomy in Seb laying out all his cards, but still being very difficult to read, and Fernando keeping his cards to his chest, but his intentions often being easily seen through.

[corpsoir]

skagen but pirate au maybe? more junk under the cut

he shoved that fish hook through his ear once while drunk to impress lovart and because he thought it was funny. solvei immediately pointed out that he cant just pull it out again because its barbed. cue skagen getting a horribly infected ear for a month but he ends up screaming and crying about it and one day it just goes away. cool free piercing (dont do this <3)

[secretlythatsme]

anyway dc x dp is my new fixation hell and i've had so many ideas for aus but one that's really sticking with me is a classic "danny has to run away to gotham because his home is no longer safe" au where danny is explicitly looking for other ghosts or at the very least is pulled to gotham because there are so many of them there.

he flies around for a while and finds this manor and he can sense so many nice ghosts! so he just. goes there! and stays! and this can be human danny showing up at their door injured or it can be ghost danny just flying in but regardless, the waynes would never turn him away. bruce would get suspicious absolutely, but he's seen enough traumatized abused kids to know the signs. thomas and martha? they think this new ghost kid is adorable!!

there could be angst sure but idk i love the idea of danny getting hurt by his parents or the giw and being so wary of more humans, and this place full of friendly ghosts would be so enticing. ghosts that don't try to immediately wreck his shit? ghosts that get territorial but are also extremely welcoming and have a habit of letting new kids into their haunt? the batfam who've dealt with the paranormal before and wouldn't give a shit? that's a normal tuesday for them babes. like please, danny just found heaven and it's in gotham.

despite all the "batfam adopts danny" aus i've seen, i rarely see people mention the ghosts of dead family members who would absolutely still be there and would definitely want to help danny :(

[celestial-toys]

crawls out of my writing cave on all fours, disheveled and holding a twenty-four-thousand-word-long document between my teeth

[raventroll80]

For your Troll!Slayer.

13A Is there something that's too big/small for your character to use/do that the big guy wish they could?

@omies-odd-writing-spot

Hmmmm…

There’s a few things Slayer misses one of the mundane things is being able to comfortably read books. He can read the words on the page, but the books are often too small to hold and he has to like scrunch up to get the book close enough to read, and the position get really uncomfortable really fast.

Another is having things that fit, human buildings are small and cramped, and moving in them can be difficult, almost like an adult in one of those kids playhouses; it’s fine at first but eventually it starts to hurt a bit. He hates admitting it but sometimes he misses being in hell where at least the reason his back is hurting because he got tackled by a Barron, and not because he has to go through Human Corridor number eighty three. Even on Argent D’Nur he would still have trouble moving around in buildings because not all of of them were grandiose halls and keeps, sometimes it was smaller hallways to the baths or storerooms, or they undershot how big a hallway or tunnel would be, and he’d end up having to crouch slightly to get through.

[change-the-rules]

*grabs your hands earnestly*

it's not about the Canon, that is not to invalidate any feelings that is to say we are fandom, our works are transformative because we take the bits and pieces of a something we love and we break it, take the pieces that speak to us a spin them into something that resonates, it's about the dynamics and the potential and putting characters we adore In Situations because the narrative failed them or it failed us, or for fun or for science or just because it's fucking hot, it's not that serious and it holds a certain gravitas

it's playing in the sandbox, pure and simple, beholding ourselves to Canon is the antithesis of Spirit of the thing

do you see?