#this was honestly just my versions of them in my head. a lot of this i will probably fix later.

[justwonder113]

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🎧 Shutting you up mid argument with a kiss - Maknae line edition 🎧

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Hyung Line

📖 Summary:  Basically what the title says 🤭

⚠️ Warnings:  Cursing as always; Arguments; kissing; fluff; angst but nothing too extreme; If I missed anything please tell me; NOT PROOFREAD

🖋️ Author’s Note:  Saw a gif of a man shutting a girl up with a kiss and got inspired so hopefully you'll like it. Will do a reverse version too so stay tuned~

📝 Word Count:   3k

📜 Masterlist: | ☕ Ko-fi:

💬Reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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Han

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To say that you were pissed off would be severe misunderstanding. Your whole day was just a pure nightmare. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong and now, to put it simply, you were basically a walking ticking bomb. The slightest disturbance would be enough to tip you over the edge and make you snap. 

Honestly all you really wanted was to go home and just sleep. Preferably with Jisung cuddling you, but you weren’t picky.  

As long as you got some sleep. 

Your apartment was dimly lit when you entered so that’s why you didn’t notice Jisung’s  bag he most likely he just threw on the ground when he got back home. Thank God you managed to catch yourself mid fall, or else would have broken at least a nose. And you would have to kill Jisung. 

Hoesly you wanted to yell at him. You had warned him at least million times to not leave his junk out in the middle of room like that. But at the same time, you were so tired you decided against it. 

“Hey baby.” You heard Jisung’s raspy voice before you felt his arms around you, his scent immediately surrounding you, almost fully melting away the day’s stress. 

The keyword being almost. 

Because the minute you were done with your stuff you immediately went to your bedroom. 

And the sight made your blood boil. 

“Han Jisung get your ass over here!” 

You head the screech of his computer chair. A heavy thud. And then quick footsteps of Han rushing full speed towards the room. 

“What is it are you okay?” He was so out of breath and visibly panicking and normally you would have found it endearing but not today. Not now. 

You pointed at the bed which was covered with unfolded laundry. You asked Han million times to take care of it. You were tired of watching it migrate from bed to the chair in your room. But here you were. You weren't’ perfect example of cleanliness and you knew Han was a messy person, but it was like he never cleaned after himself. You knew he had hectic schedules, but you weren’t free as a bird either. Also, it was tiring for you to be one always cleaning around the house. So, him leaving the laundry untouched yet again really tipped you over. 

“I’m sorry baby, I completely forgot about it....” Han started frantically explaining himself, clearly nervous and guilty but you didn’t let him finish. 

“No, I asked you so many times to take care of it! It’s your laundry too! You always promise to help with chores, but I am always stuck doing them all alone!” You took a deep breath, noticing yourself how you were slowly picking up a pace as you argued. You hated whenever you lashed out like this, especially at Han, but damn it you were tired! 

“I am not your personal made Jisung! I don’t understand why you treat me as such! Or do you think magical faeries keep the house clean or some bullshit like that. All I wanted was to go to sleep and finally relax but now I have to stress about how the house is a literal mess. It just simply shows how little you respect me!” 

“Baby...” He started again but you were not done. You noticed that he was starting to get anxious, that he was watching you with sad puppy eyes while fidgeting with the hems of his hoodie, lifting his weight from one leg to the other. You felt bad but you had to speak up. 

“Don’t baby me Jisung. I am tired too. How many times are you going to conveniently forget to do something and watch me do it for you?” 

“I’m sorry baby. I really am.” You heard Jisung mutter out. 

“You can’t just get away with this by saying sorry. You always do this! Apologize and then do the same shit a...” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. 

Because he was kissing you. 

His hands cupping your jaw, so gently, so desperately. 

Like you were most precious and fragile porcelain doll. 

You have kissed millions of times. You got through various of different things together. But never like this had he kissed you. 

You felt your anger slowly wash away as you slowly sank into the kiss. 

“What’s with the kiss?” You finally asked, breathless, once he leaned back, your heart beating like crazy. Your whole body on fire.  

Jisung smiled, his hair disheveled from your hands, his lips red and swollen from kissing you. His face clearly flushed, though you doubted you looked any better. but he still looked awkward. He leaned in and gave you another short peck. “I promise I will be better.” You both heard and felt him mutter this against your lips. His voice low, sincere.  “I will help around more.” Another kiss and you felt like floating. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I didn’t appreciate you.” 

“You better make up for it then.” 

“Right this second your highness.” Smiling just like his usual sunshine self he leaned in and gave you another loving peck before heading to start cleaning up, starting with the laundry on your bed. 

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Felix

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Some people say family is everything. And honestly? They’re right. They’re the people who know you best, who support you through life’s toughest moments, who stand by you no matter what. 

They’re also the people most likely to drive you absolutely insane. And make you want to pluck out your hair strand by strand. 

Like, it’s one thing when a stranger is being mildly irritating—someone cutting in line, talking too loudly on the phone, or walking too slowly when you’re in a hurry. That’s annoying, sure, but you can shake it off. It’s temporary. 

But family? Oh no. They know exactly where your buttons are, and they press them with the precision of a NASA engineer launching a spacecraft. And because you love them—because you can’t just walk away forever—it somehow makes their antics ten times more infuriating. 

It’s the paradox of unconditional love: the people closest to you are also the ones who can send you into a spiral over something as simple as the way they chew their food. 

Let’s just say tonight’s dinner was a total battlefield. 

And you didn’t know if you were winning losing. 

Do you know how some people have this relative everyone or almost everyone keeps comparing you to since you’re born? It’s a complete nightmare if both of you are the same age. It’s always lie do you know they did this they did that, they have the most perfectest grades, they graduated early, they are now studying medicine, law or something really respectworthy like that. Oh they work now, oh NASA just recruited them, oh they saved a president.  

And worst of all they are getting married so when are you. 

It is especially hard when your family knows you’re dating. And your boyfriend of three years (oh no right) is right next you and your family absolutely loves him! So you can imagine how the boot on your neck pressuring you to get married got heavy. 

For the whole night you had to hear basically everyone’s opinion on how you should live your own damn life. They didn’t even let you say anything! And when you finally managed to speak up and say something they ignored you and went over you like you were some dumb kid. 

And then the perfection incarnate decided to have a chat with you and Felix- meaning you had to hear a whole ass speech how perfect their life was. And god that condescending tone! Honestly you still loved your family members, but damn some of them managed to piss you off so much! Like you wouldn’t even say hi to them if you weren’t related. 

Thankfully you were headed back to your house now and since you couldn’t really say anything at dinner now you were compensating by speaking  what was on your mind. Well arguing and ranting was a better word to describe your action but a person’s gotta vent. 

“Seriously the audacity some people have. If I have to hear how someone’s life is so perfect and amazing and how you should just set it as your life goal to live by their example I will lose my mind! And what’s up with this relentless marriage talk and you should have children bullshit?! I will get married and start a family whenever I see fit!” 

You were so passionate about your whole damn rant you didn’t even realize that you got home. You really didn’t stop talking for a whole ride. Talk about yapping. 

“And what was up with them cornering you about asking for my hand? It’s so frustrating! It's our relationship, it’s not something to be discussed so publicly like it’s everyone’s business. We will go in our pace. I mean as long as I’m happy why should it matter, right Felix?” You had barely finished your sentence when he decided to wrap his hands around you and lean in to seal your lips ina loving gently kiss. 

Your breath hitched, it was like your whole mind crashed like an old computer for a second. Your whole body was on a fire in a second, your heart beating like crazy. 

Did he even realize what kind of effect he had on you? 

“You’re cute when you’re worked up like this.” Felix whispered against your ear when he leaned back for some air. The hot breath sending shiver down your spine. 

“You’re such a tease.” You grumbled, but you didn’t really mind being shut up like this.

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Seungmin

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It started with something stupid like the correct way to load a dishwasher. Silly right? But now you had a whole silent war going on with him because both of you were prideful assholes. 

You knew it was dumb, but it just pissed you off how Seungmin always thought that he was always so right. Usually you loved how fact driven and logically thinking he was, you loved his confidence, but whenever pride also got in the way and he got all smug you just wanted to smack him. It made him more cold and smug like he was better than everyone else. And sometimes you felt like you were part of “everyone”. 

You hated when you argued, so you decided to do the next best thing.  

The silent treatment. 

But how long would that last? Especially when Seungmin was determined to make you talk. But eventually his resolve started to crack. 

“For how much longer do you plan to act like this?” You heard him ask, sounding all annoyed. 

You decided to ignore him and resume what you were doing, which ironically was the thing that made you argue in the first place. You were putting dishes in the dishwasher. 

And you obviously did it your way, which made Seungmin tsk. 

“It won’t get washed that way, it’s pointless to have a dishwasher if you’re going to place dishes like that. I told you that baby.” 

And just like that, with one comment from him, you snapped. 

“Can you shut it?” Your voice was harsh. You had never spoken to him like this. 

Seungmin scoffed. “So now you wanna talk?” 

You placed the dish down. “Yes because I'm sick of it! You always have to be right and it’s so infuriating you know?” You took a deep breath, here it went. “It’s like you think you're some genius above the rest of us—so smug, so condescending—" 

You took a deep breath. “Honesly it seemed like you only care about being right all of the time. Honestly sometimes you make me feel like you don’t even care about me!”  

Seungmin scoffed- "Smug? That’s harsh. I prefer ‘confident.” He tilted his head, a smug smile appearing on his face. He continued. “And let’s be honest, would I argue this much if I didn't care about you?"  

"Oh, so now you care? That’s rich—" You started exasperated, your voice rising by the second against your judgement. 

Seungmin stepped closer, his face unreadable. “Obviously I do. That’s why we argue over stupid shit like this! If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here arguing with you about how to place dishes in the dishwasher! I wouldn’t care how you do it. You also wouldn’t be yelling at me if you didn’t care either." You didn’t miss how his voice dropped, in the end, his voice sounded so sincere. But... 

You blinked.  

Not going to lie you didn’t know what to say. He managed to catch you off guard. But you were not going to back down. "I—No. Don’t flip this on me, this isn’t about me, this is about—" 

And then, without warning, his lips were on yours. At first you were confused, then came anger, because he was just shutting you up, avoiding the conversation, but then you realized. The way he held you oh so gently, despite his hands slightly trembling... And for the first time in your short relationship you saw right through him. It's like you saw him for the first time. Instead of shutting you up he was almost like apologizing. It was knowing. Deliberate. The kind of kiss that said, I hear you. That said, I don’t just think I’m right—It‘s just my way of taking care of you. I just want the best for you. 

The frustration dissolves into something else entirely, because really, who gave him the right to kiss this perfectly? His hand came up—just barely brushing against your jaw, lingering like he was waiting for you to pull away, except you didn’t. 

And by the time he leaned back his face still looked unreadable but now you noticed how tenderly his eyes were gazing  at you. 

"I love you." He said it like it was the most simple thing to say and you caved. 

A genuine smile found it’s way on your face. 

“I love you.”

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IN

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It all started when your boyfriend decided he wanted attention. Which normally isn’t a a bad thing but it  can be disruptive when you’re working on a major project, when you have a tight deadline and when you really really REALLY have to focus. 

For the whole evening he didn’t really let you work in peace. He kept whining how you were giving him no attention and how it meant that you didn’t love him anymore. You had to talk to hyunjin later because he was corrupting your boyfriend. 

In the end you couldn’t really focus and you kept getting distracted over and over again. And in result today you were swarmed with complains from your boss. And let’s just sat you were pretty much pissed now. But you didn’t feel like arguing with him so you decided to let go. But you still wanted to vent about how much of an asshole your boss was. 

Jeongin was in a playfull mood today. And normally you loved his goofy side but right noe everything was irking you. You hinted at him several times that you wanted him to focus and listen to you without all the games and jokes but your every hint went over his head. 

“What a bitch!” He gasped dramatically and clutched his imaginary pearls. 

Now that you thougth about it you did overeact. 

You snapped. 

"Can you be serious for like...just five minutes, please?" Your voice was sharp. And you hated how he flinched for a second, not expecting you to snap out of you but you had to get everything out of your system 

IN quickly regained his composure and grinned. "Five minutes? That’s ambitious." 

"Jeongin." - You deadpanned. You hoped that  you using his name would make him realize that you were being serious. 

He blinked innocently still unaware. "What? I am serious. Mostly." 

And that’s was the breaking point. 

The frustration simmered over, and you started to talk. 

"You never take anything seriously! It’s always jokes, always teasing—how am I supposed to have an actual conversation with you when you act like a literal child?" 

Finally looking like he took this seriously now he raised an eyebrow. "A child? That’s dramatic." 

You couldn’t help but throw your hands up. "It’s not dramatic Jeongin. it’s the truth! You joke around so much, I don’t even know if you listen half the time—" 

The teasing glint in his eyes didn’t disappear completely, but something more focused, more intent sparked beneath it. He stepped closer, the usual playfulness slowly turning into something unreadable. 

He started to talk, his voice, sincere. Almost like a whisper. "I listen.”- He started- “I listen way more than you think." 

You decided to challenge him. "Oh, really? Then what exactly did I say just now—" 

You thought something shifter in a second and then you really felt it. 

One second he looked at you with passion, with something so raw, the next second his hand curled at the back of your neck and he kissed you like there was no tomorrow. It was raw and passionate. Your whole body was instantly on fire. You couldn’t help but cling onto him as he deepened the kiss. It was anything but childish—loving, deep, and entirely too knowing. Like he’s been waiting for this moment. To prove to you that he was very much a adult man. 

By the time he pulled away, his smirk was infuriatingly self-satisfied.  

Even more, the little tease started retelling you in every detail just what you had told him. 

"Still think I don’t listen?" Oh you would smack him one of these days. 

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✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧ 

If you enjoyed this story, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. 💬🖤 

📜 @annie-boleyn @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid @pixie-felix

 If you’d like to be added, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post 🤍 

☕ Ko-fi — support my writing 

Any support is deeply appreciated and helps me keep writing more stories like this💌

[shibiichi]

I absolutely love your updated Daycare attendant, especially Moon such a handsome beast. I've always loved your version of Moon it my favorite one

Thank you so much!!! 🫶 I’m so glad you enjoy their updated looks! (I’ve never been this happy with their designs haha. Especially Moon’s!)

I’m flattered you enjoyed my old Moon too! My old DCA designs are sorta weird to me lol! They were definitely a result of me wanting to have fun with the designs but also being scared to stray too far from canon! (You can def see that in Moon’s colors) Honestly though, my AU isn’t canon! So there’s no reason to be anxious over making them too different! It’s supposed to be a reflection of my current tastes, my Sun and (especially) Moon designs really encapsulate that! :D

Also here! I realize I haven’t really posted ART since January (oops) so I do have a small handful of sketches pertaining to the DCA!

[Moon concept]

Above is one of my first attempts at redesigning my DCA! There was a previous version with full stars that looked more like my old style but I found I didn’t enjoy those at all. A problem I’ve always had with my old Moon’s design would be the star patterns on his pants, hat, and sleeves. They often weren’t very sharp and looked kinda ‘spacey’ (and not in the cool celestial way lol!) They kinda looked more like an overlay and lacked definition, making my old Moon’s design kinda lack luster? So the first thing I wanted to do was figure out that pattern more! (I ended up going with a split look to help make the stars that are there not overwhelm the character)

This fixed up first pass is pretty close to what I ended up going with, though I decided to change some anatomical things to make him look more doll like and more elongated. (I really wanted to make them look uncanny when they don’t have their jester fits! Like they are fully relying on those outfits not to look uncomfortable.)

[Moon and @shadysubject06 ‘s Chica!!]

I briefly mentioned what my DCA’s side facial profile would look like in the ref post, so here’s an actual drawing of it! They do look pretty humanoid in head shape, though with a weak chin and flat nose to accommodate the ‘dinner plate’ look lol. I love how Moon here looks like he’s the MC of an anime that just bumped into the love interest and is all ‘flutters eyelashes’ and starry eyed.

A big change I made between my old and new Moon designs would be the titular nightcap. Before my Moon’s nightcap sat upon his head normally and was SUPER long! Like to the floor. The more I thought about it the more I began to get uncertain about the idea. Like sure, that’s fine if Moon were more like his canon self at around 7ft, but my DCA is 12’8”! As someone who sews, the amount of fabric needed to make a nightcap that both fits Moon but is long enough to drag on the floor gives me a headache. Besides, I found I really loved the ‘covers one eye’ look so much more. He looks shy, like he’s hiding behind his own hat. Also I wanted him to fidget with his hat more, so having it hang over one eye makes it a lot more accessible! (Also I am one of those FNaF fans who tries to think about the base logic on how these characters are built. 💔 i can’t help it.. it makes designing more fun. The only place where a hat like that could be stored would likely be somewhere in the torso, and my old DCA’s torso was pretty packed already. 😭)

[Jack-o’-Moon / Harvest Moon concept]

Also had fun with a Halloween design idea! (I know it’s not even fall….) this drawing is pretty accurate, though the main sun rays would not be present for this design as this is technically Moon.

This costume would be used for the week of Halloween in the plex, the mall working like a fun family friendly fall fest in the day and a horror attraction at night. Sun would refer to himself as ‘Jack-o’-Sun’ as Sun’s specific look would fall into the pumpkin jack-o’-lantern look during the day! At night the staff would make Moon look a bit more scary and we’d get ‘Harvest Moon’, who plays more into the whole grim reaper look. Not sure if they’d actually have a scythe but I thought drawing them with one was fun!

I have a lot more lore to drop but this post is getting way too long and I’ve rambled enough. Thank you for the ask!! I really appreciate it! Nighty Night!

[queenofmorningstar]

See You in Hell

Lucifer x Overlord! f! Reader

Summary: Lucifer and your bonding time gets a fatal blow.

CW: Canon-typical Violence. Reader is Injured. Reader has cryokinesis (ice) powers for plot reasons. Striker (Helluva Boss) (Eventual Smut & SlowBurn)

Word Count: 4.5K

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8

CHAPTER TWO

The morning in Hell was a strange thing. There was no soft light spilling through the windows. Just a dull red glow filtering in through the curtains. You looked over the Pentagram City, hands fisted on your balcony. You had come for him . Lucifer. The first and only being you’d ever truly believed in.

Your entire life, that belief had been your anchor. Through alienation, through rage, through the sharp sting of being othered, your faith in him had been the thing that kept you from being crushed under the weight of expectations.

You swallowed hard. It was foolish, you knew, to have built so much on an image. But wasn’t that what belief was ? A flame you held in your chest and fed with hope? You should leave. Go back to your district. You didn’t need to be here.

Except…

You’d wanted so badly to stand beside him. To matter to him. To be seen by him—not as another damned soul—but as someone who understood. The worst part wasn’t the awkwardness. Or the silence. Or even the let-down. The worst part was the grief. Grieving a version of him that had never existed—except in your head.

The shadows in the corner of the room began to stir. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.  No footsteps. No fanfare. Just the eerie quiet of something long used to moving unseen.

“Ma’am,” came the low rasp of your spy.

You turned, calm and sharp. “You’re late.”

The spy straightened. His face was mostly hidden, but the tension in his stance betrayed urgency.

“Well?”

“There’s been movement,” he said. “In your district. The Markets. Word spread fast that you’d left… and the roaches started crawling out.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Who?”

“No name worth remembering. He’s putting up a trap; you’d sawed through his horns through two years ago. Apparently, he’s forgotten the taste of fear.”

Your lip curled. Hell had a way of never staying still. When the cat went away, the mice start to play.

“And?” you said coldly.

“He’s rallying remnants,” the spy said. “Broken gangs, failed lords, exiles. All bottom feeders, and your enemies.”

Your laugh was bitter and low. Well, that does it. You’ve to return. These bitches won’t stand still otherwise. “I will return shortly. My assistant…?” 

“She has completed the protocol you put in these kinds of situations. We have all the sinners under your employ armed and ready.”

The spy only nodded once, and vanished.

You started to prepare yourself,  strapping on your boots, slow and methodical, each buckle clicked into place like it might anchor your resolve. You fastened the last strap of bracer, testing the weight of it with a flex of your wrist.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. Three taps. Slightly uneven. Hesitant. You opened the door and came face to face with Lucifer, adjusting his top hat. “OH SHIT–” he said, quickly standing straight. “Uh – Hi! Hello.”

You arched your brow. “Good morning, your majesty.”

“Yes! Right. I am. That’s me.” He cleared his throat.

There was a beat.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared, guarded but curious. He took that as permission to continue, fidgeting with something behind his back.

“I just wanted to, um… apologize,” he said. “For yesterday. I was a bit—well, a lot—off my game. Normally I’d make a much grander entrance. Maybe some fireworks. Dancing goats. An organ solo.”

You blinked, slowly. “Dancing goats, yes. Very…attractive. Well, sire, I’m kinda busy–”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, chuckling nervously. “I granted one of my summoners his wish when he made his goats dance instead of slaughtering them. Which, honestly, isn’t it better? Anyways…what was I saying?”

You shook your head. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Oh ho, yes!” He hesitated… then pulled the object from behind him with the dramatics of a magician revealing his final trick. “Ta-da!”

He presented you with… a rubber duck. Bright yellow. You stared at it.

“It’s not just any duck,” Lucifer said, beaming. “This is the one and only magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck! Ha ha! That spits fire! Patent pending.”

He flicked it, and the duck squeaked . Then it backflipped in his hand and let out a tiny puff of harmless but impressively red fire.

You blinked again. He looked so genuinely proud of it, and it was contagious. Somehow, you were proud of him too.

“I enchanted it myself,” he said, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. “It detects hostile intent within ten meters, and bites people if they get too close. Very reliable.”

You stared at the absurd little creature. Then back at him. “...You’re giving me a duck.”

“A magic duck,” he corrected. “To help you in anything. You know. Protection. Fire support. Emotional support, if needed.”

The smile was slow, involuntary. A slight curve of your lips. But it was there. Lucifer froze.

His heart stuttered so hard— damn that traitorous organ — actually fluttered. Like wings beating against his ribs. Oh no. You were smiling. At him . Abort mission.

“Well, great! Wonderful! That’s—duck received!” he blurted, spinning on his heel with a flustered laugh. “ You look very stabby. Impeccably stabby. Love the suit! Big fan of murder!”

He practically bolted down the hall.

You stood there in the doorway, duck in hand, not believing what had just happened, but…the smile lingered as you put it near your table. You ran a gloved hand through your hair and turned back to put on some more knives, when another knock came — lighter, more rhythmic. 

“Come in,” you said. Charlie peeked inside with her usual hopeful glow, holding a clipboard and an excited little bounce in her step. “Hey! I was wondering if you’d like to join us? We’re about to start a new activity — it’s kind of silly, but it’s meant to help with trust building. There are pillows involved. It’s… uh, interpretive.”

The smile was genuine. The optimism in her eyes was a little too bright, like she was trying extra hard today. You offered a small, respectful shake of your head. “I appreciate the offer, princess. But I have other responsibilities.”

Charlie’s face fell, only slightly and she nodded. “Right. Of course. It’s just, um, it could help ease you into things here?”

You nearly laughed, but caught yourself.  Instead, you offered the same polite smile you’d mastered long before death. “I’m afraid duty calls.”

You walked past Charlie gently, making your way down the winding staircase. Charlie scrambled to follow, clipboard hugged to her chest. “Maybe just stay for the first five minutes? You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. It’s just… everyone’s downstairs, and it’d be nice to show them we’re all trying. Together.”

They reached the bottom steps. The hotel lobby came into view. Niffty dusting something that didn’t need dusting. Angel Dust lounging across two chairs like he owned them. Husk nursing a drink, clearly done with everything. Vaggie pacing as usual. Alastor smiled too broadly to be trustworthy.

And Lucifer. He straightened the moment he saw you, hand rising instinctively to smooth his already-perfect hair. 

“I’m grateful for your hospitality,” you said, addressing Charlie with usual poise. “But my district has become vulnerable while I’m gone. Sinners there need my help, and duty is a noble cause. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Charlie hesitated. Angel raised an eyebrow. Alastor’s smile didn’t falter but his head tilted with interest. Lucifer clenched his fist.

“I… guess that’s true,” Charlie finally said. 

You nodded once. “Then you understand.”

You moved to the door. You didn’t hear him approach, but felt the flicker of magic behind you before his voice tumbled out, rushed and slightly winded. “Wait!”

You turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder.

“You’re… leaving,” he said, slightly breathless.

“Yes,” you said evenly.

“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, swaying on his heels. “Of course. Yes. That’s… that’s what doors are for. But I had a thought. A terrible one, really. Absolutely ludicrous.”

You raised your brows. “…What?”

Lucifer paused. Drew in a breath and then, brightly he said, “I’d like to come with you!”

You stared at him. The door behind you clicked back into place as you released it, stunned. “You,” you said carefully, “want to come… to my territory?”

“Yes!” he said, with far too much enthusiasm. “You’re going to help your people. Very valiant. Very noble. Very… uncharacteristically decent for Hell. And I thought — maybe — I could lend a hand.”

A beat. Silence. No. Your mind rejected the idea instantly. He hated sinners.

Lucifer Morningstar hadn’t lifted a finger to help a single soul in centuries. He let this system of eternal punishment be, and then abandoned all of them. Abandoned you.

Lucifer cleared his throat and straightened his collar. “I just… look, not that you need any help — clearly, you’ve got the whole ‘powerful overlord who strikes fear into all’ thing down. Very chic. Very commanding.”

“You don’t care about sinners,” you said, not cold, just… numb. “You gave up on them.”

Lucifer blinked, his smile faltering at the edges. And in that moment, behind all the glitz and theatrics, you saw the weariness. He took a small step forward, lowering his voice. “I did. I gave up a long time ago.” They didn’t change. I thought they would. I wanted to believe in them… but all they did was prove Heaven right. The words hung in his throat, unspoken. “But,” he said instead, forcing his voice lighter, “maybe it’s time I… un-give-up.”

Your brow twitched. That wasn’t a word.

Lucifer fumbled onward. “You’re doing something good, which I believe most Overlords wouldn’t–” Well, you weren’t being entirely selfless either. You wanted to maintain your authority, but also without you, it would be all chaos again, leading to more death.

He tried a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought maybe I could start small. Just… help you. Help them. Or at least try.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your thoughts were racing. Why now? Why pretend to care? Is this for Charlie? For himself? Or maybe, he was seeking his redemption too.

You searched his face for a trace of mockery. There was none. You crossed your arms. “You don’t have to do this, sire.”

He let out a breath. “No. But maybe I should. And please, call me Lucifer.”

Another beat of silence passed between them. Then finally, you stepped away from the door. “Very well, your majesty , follow along.”

You still didn’t call him by his name, but Lucifer thought he would make you say it eventually. Lucifer lit up. “Oh ho! A partnership! Our partnership!”

“I’m not calling this a partnership.”

“Temporary alliance, then. Battle buddies?”

You rolled your eyes and moved past him, but he caught the faint curve of your smile as you moved ahead.

Charlie watched them go, blinking.

“Well,” she whispered to Vaggie, “that’s… happening.”

_____________________

You regretted it within the first ten minutes. Not because of some grand mistake or sudden betrayal, but because Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, had apparently not walked the damned streets in centuries… and was treating everything like a carnival attraction.

“Ooooh! What’s that ?” he asked, pointing with both hands toward a neon-lit sculpture of a tentacled goat climbing out of a coffee mug.

“A cursed espresso stand,” you said flatly.

“Amazing! What a creative twist!” he beamed. “You know, back in the early days, I wanted more artistry in these districts. Glad to see someone listened—what’s that ?”

“Bone polishing service.”

“And that ?”

“Overlord-themed ice cream parlour.”

“And that?”

“That’s a dumpster, sire.”

“Oh.”

You sighed.

The back alleys of your district spread ahead of them in crooked angles and sharp shadows. Lucifer practically skipped beside you.

He still wore his coat and vest as usual, though he told you he’d conjured a little charm that will make him appear as any sinner. His hands were clasped behind his back, his steps light and gleeful.

He suddenly halted, letting out a loud gasp like he’d seen the gates of Heaven open before him. “Oh! OH! Stop — stop, stop, look at that! ”

You turned, more out of dread than curiosity. He was pointing toward a crooked convenience shop, buzzing green light. The glass window was plastered with bright stickers and product ads. One ad stood out in particular: “ Lucky Cumilicious Cereal! Now with DUCK TOYS inside every box! ”

Lucifer slapped a hand to his chest like he’d been moved to tears. “They made duck toys again?! Look at it! It’s wearing sunglasses! It’s glorious!”

“…It’s cereal,” you said. You were more worried about what the cereal contains, after that horrendous name. 

“With ducks! ” he whispered reverently.

Then he turned to you, eyes suddenly large, lashes fluttering, “Please. Please, please, please. Can we go in? Just one box. Maybe two.”

You blinked. “You are the King of Hell.”

“I’m aware.”

“You could will that cereal into your hand.”

“Yes, but that would be rude.”

You stared at him in dead silence. Then, finally, with a long-suffering sigh, you rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Fine.”

“YES!” he cheered, practically bouncing. “You’re the best.”

You muttered something inaudible and walked toward the shop. The bell above the door gave a pitiful jingle as they stepped inside. It was a cramped, crooked little place. Shelves leaned dangerously to one side, some barely holding together. Glowing jars of unknown liquids pulsed on display, and a giant taxidermy eyeball in a top hat watched them from the ceiling.

The shopkeeper, a gangly sinner, glanced up from the counter. Then his eyes widened. “You,” he choked, backing into the wall like he’d seen death itself. “You’re—You’re her—”

You stopped just past the threshold, looking more exhausted than furious… which somehow made you even scarier. The shopkeeper whimpered and dove under the counter with a squeak. 

Lucifer blinked. “Oh my. That’s a new reaction.”

You sighed. “It’s not.”

Lucifer peeked over the counter and called cheerily, “No need to panic! She hasn’t smited anyone all morning.”

No response.

“I’m serious!” he added, “I’ve been with her for a whole hour. Only scowled. Didn’t eviscerate a single sinner. Remarkable restraint, really.”

Still no answer.

You let out another sigh, walked to the counter, and leaned against it. “…I’m just here for the cereal,” you said, voice dry.

There was a pause. Shuffling.

“…Just…cereal?” the shopkeeper whispered.

You gave a glance toward Lucifer, who was standing beside a cereal pyramid with the biggest, most ridiculous, sparkly-eyed expression of glee you’d ever seen.

You looked back at the shopkeeper. “…Ten boxes.”

Another pause.

“…Ten?”

“Ten.”

A beat.

“…Of the duck one?”

Your eye twitched. “Yes. Of the duck one.”

The shopkeeper’s head slowly emerged from behind the counter, still wary, but utterly baffled. “You… You want to buy them?”

“Is that not how shops work?” Lucifer asked brightly.

“I— I guess? I just thought you’d, y’know, blast me into ash and take ‘em.”

You stared at him, utterly unamused. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The shopkeeper whimpered and fumbled to the shelves. While Lucifer was looking doe-eyed at the cereal packs, you whispered. “It doesn’t have the…uh…”

The sinner sighed, looking like a lot of people asked him that. “No. The one who named it just wanted to relate that it tasted good…like that.”

“...Right.” That guy must have some food porn fetish.

Within a minute, ten boxes of Lucky Cumilicious Cereal: Duck Edition™ were stacked neatly on the counter, complete with gaudy cartoon ducks. As the shopkeeper rang them up with shaking hands, Lucifer turned to you and whispered, “Thank you.”

You only gave a half-shrug, voice low. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the calorie count.”

But when she glanced at him again, genuinely beaming at you, something in your chest shifted. Softened. How ridiculous.

____________________________

The sky above your district roared with fire and smoke.

By the time they arrived, the scent of gunpowder was already thick in the air. Your once-orderly streets had erupted into chaos: overturned carts, black banners fluttering where her crest should’ve been. Fucking assholes.

“Shit. I need a full overview of things.”

Lucifer gleefully accepted this. “Don’t worry!” he called down, already soaring above. “I’ll scope things out from the top! You take the boring side of things—logistics, planning, subordinates—whatever you Overlords do!”

Before you could stop him, his disguise charm broke as he spread his wings and with a dazzling whoosh , he shot upward, leaving a faint sparkle trail in the smoke like a firework.

You… stayed grounded. Your assistant emerged from a nearby alley, panting. “Ma’am!” she shouted, rushing to you. “They came two nights ago—stragglers, armed –”

“Where’s their base?”

“Near the industrial quarter. They took the outer spires first, then moved inward. We’ve been pushing back, but they got allies.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Allies?”

Your assistant hesitated. And that’s when the bullet whistled past your cheek. A whisper of metal and smoke. You didn’t flinch, but your assistant dove to the ground.

You turned slowly. And there he was, standing tall on a twisted street lamp, rifle resting cockily on one shoulder. Straw hat tilted forward, long tail flicking behind him like a rattlesnake with rhythm. Striker.

“Now that’s a face I didn’t think I’d get the honour of greeting today,” he drawled, teeth glinting. “Didn’t reckon you’d crawl out of that fancy hotel just to come slum it with the rest of us.”

Your gaze was steel. “I don’t entertain rodents. And you’re standing on my property.”

He gave a low whistle. “Still got that bite, huh?” He spun the rifle, pointing it toward you again with casual, confident aim. “Didn’t think you'd bring royalty either.”

You didn’t answer, not yet. You were calculating.

From the air, Lucifer weaved through plumes of smoke and gunfire, magic flaring from his palms in bursts of red-gold light. He wasn’t fighting — This time, he was protecting. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though some took advantage of the chaos… but he saw something else too.

A husband shielding his wounded wife with trembling wings. A sinner trying to drag a friend to cover. Another woman not able to get out of the rubble telling her girlfriend to flee.

Lucifer floated above them, breathing hard. Lucifer blinked in beside her; with a flick, the stone turned to ash. The couple cried and nodded at him gratefully as he vanished again in a red ripple. And something turned inside him. Not just guilt. Shame.

These weren’t the irredeemable filth he once believed. He had let exterminations go on for centuries. Told himself the worst were being culled. Told himself that Hell was punishment, and he wasn’t its warden, only its unwilling king.

But now, watching the streets run with blood, seeing innocent sinners fall under crossfire they didn’t ask for…He realized something dark and bitter. He hadn’t just stood idle. He’d been wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

*

Ice hissed as it struck hot metal, steam rising in thick clouds. You rolled behind a broken fountain, barely missing another shot. Striker was relentless; quick on the trigger, voice a constant taunt. "You're slowing down, little Overlord!"

Your eyes narrowed. You didn't reply. Instead, you rose and let the frost take over.

The ground cracked beneath your feet as a wave of cold spiralled outward, elegant and brutal. Your fingers splayed, and in an instant, the fountain behind you transformed into a wall of jagged ice, catching Striker’s next bullet mid-flight.

He cursed and jumped back. You stepped through the mist like a wraith, one arm lifting, a spear of translucent ice shot forward, pinning his long coat to the wall of a ruined storefront.

His eyes widened. “Shit—Fucking bitch!”

He raised the rifle, point-blank. But you were faster. Your hand shot out, encasing the weapon in solid ice. It cracked under the pressure, a shriek of metal and frost and you wrenched it from his grip before shattering it to dust.

Striker staggered back, breath ragged.

"You picked the wrong bitch," you said quietly, frost curling from your fingertips.

He looked cornered, panting, coat ripped, one boot skidding slightly on your ice. You turned, breathing steady, ready to order him dragged off by your soldiers.

But then you heard it; a faint shhk . The unmistakable sound of a blade unsheathing.

Your instincts flared. Too late. A sharp line of fire bloomed across your cheek as something impossibly hot and divine kissed your skin — slicing with a hum that your soul recognized before your mind did. You stumbled back a step, fingers flying to your face. Blood. You hadn’t bled in years.

The smell of it was wrong. Burned . Your gaze snapped to Striker.

He stood tall now, a wild grin back on his face, twirling something that didn’t belong in Hell. A curved sleek, unnatural blade. It shimmered with celestial light, the metal humming with power. Your chest tightened.

“Where the hell did you get that?” you demanded, voice quieter, deadlier.

Striker shrugged, the blade catching the dim sun as he spun it lazily. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You narrowed your eyes. That was angelic steel . Carmilla Carmine was the only one who traded in them. And she sure as shit wouldn’t hand one to some errand boy with a cowboy hat.

You stepped forward. “You’re going to regret that.”\The air cracked as your ice daggers shot toward Striker, each one a razor-edged shard of fury.

He dodged deftly, rolling between a pair of shattered pillars, boots skidding across frost-slick stone. He sliced through two of the blades mid-spin, divine steel singing as it clashed with your magic. 

You were faster this time. You slammed your palm into the ground, ice erupting upward in jagged walls, trying to trap him in. Striker leapt, twisting in the air, but you were already there, meeting him mid-motion with a kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling.

You surged forward to end it, hand raised, frost already forming your next strike. But he was quicker than his battered form suggested.

A flash of white steel came for your throat, sudden and reckless. Time slowed. You didn’t think. You reacted .

Your hand swept upward and an ice-forged sword burst into being in your palm, catching his blade inches from your skin. The impact rang out like thunder.

Both of you froze, faces inches apart, breath mingling in the space between. You stared into his eyes — wild, defiant, but gleaming with something darker than pride. 

He grinned. “That’s the problem with people like you,” he drawled, pushing his weight against your blade, the angelic steel hissing as it clashed with your ice. “You think you’re in control. That you know all the moving parts.”

Your eyes narrowed, muscles tensed. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckled darkly, pressing his weight harder against your blade. “Y’know… maybe I am just a pawn. A little gun for hire. But I ain’t stupid.”

He jerked his head to the side." 'Specially when someone brings a king to a war he should’ve stayed the hell away from. Tch…royalty don’t do good on battlefields, now do they?”

You followed his gaze, and saw him. Lucifer was still in the air, magic flaring as he shielded a group of terrified civilians. Too focused and exposed. 

And then you saw them. A cluster of armed demons, camouflaged against the rubble. You hadn't noticed them before. But they were aiming directly at him. And the weapons they held gleamed white …. Angelic guns.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your breath hitched. The frost around you stilled, your heart did not.

Striker chuckled, still pressed to your blade. “Oops,” he said with mock surprise. “Now how did they know the king will come along today?”

Who is talking about?! Dread settled in your gut like a stone. Because no matter how powerful he was, you doubted even the King of Hell could take that many angelic shots.

Your grip tightened around your sword. This wasn’t just about your territory anymore.

You didn’t think. You shoved Striker back with a burst of frigid wind, sending him skidding across the battlefield on a slick of ice. The second he hit the ground, you were already running.

Your boots pounded against scorched rubble and frozen debris, lungs burning, heart louder than any explosion in the distance. You didn’t even register the blood still dripping from your cheek. You only saw him.

So unaware. So damn unaware.

“Sir–LUCIFER!” you shouted, voice raw. “ABOVE YOU—!”

He turned, smiling that you finally called him by his name. For a moment, your eyes met in the smoke and flickering firelight. His expression changed from confusion…straight into fear .

Because in that same heartbeat—You felt it. The divine burn.

Striker’s sword rammed through your lower abdomen, sliding between your ribs with a sickening ease. You felt everything.

His breath was on your neck. “Tsk,” he whispered with a grin in your ear, voice practically humming with glee. “Letting your guard down for him ?”

You gasped but didn’t scream. Didn’t give him the pleasure. Striker twisted the blade as he withdrew it, slow and deliberate. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into your clothes.

Striker’s boots crunched as he stepped back. His thoughts burned with satisfaction. An Overlord... dropping her shield for the King? Now that’s leverage. That’s a story worth telling."But not now. He was tired, wounded, and she wasn’t dead yet. Time to vanish.

You staggered forward, one step at a time, your hand pressed tightly to your bleeding side. Warmth trickled down your fingers, soaking through your hands. The angelic wound hissed against your flesh, deeper than you'd first realized. It was spreading. Burning.

Your breath was shallow. Each inhale felt like it scraped the inside of your lungs.

Behind you, the battlefield simmered into silence. Somewhere, your forces were cleaning up the remnants of the rebellion. You didn’t look back.

“Ma’am!” your assistant rushed to your side, panic clear in her voice. “Please, you need to sit down—”

You shoved her hand away with more force than you meant to.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, even as your knees wobbled. You bit down on the sharp throb beneath your ribs and kept moving. You had to.

Not where your enemies could watch you fall.

The truth rattled in your chest like cracked ice. You weren’t going to make it much farther. You were bleeding from the inside, and divine magic to top it all. 

I need to crash, you thought. Somewhere safe.

You blinked upward just as Lucifer landed in front of you, panting, wild-eyed. “ You’re hurt,” he gasped, voice pitching high with panic as he crossed the space to reach you. “Why would you do something like this for them?!”

Your knees buckled. Your legs finally gave in. You didn’t fight it.

Because your eyes found his — frantic, flooded with worry and something inside you eased. You didn’t know when it had happened, or why , or even if it made any damned sense…But in that moment, as your vision blurred and the sounds of the world became cotton-soft—

Your last thought before the darkness took you was simple: Safe in his arms.

Everything felt… cold. And not from your magic this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @atlantis-just-drowned, @uniquecutie-puffs, @elegancefr, @petalsrdead, @jazztato

[goomyloid]

I think a lot about a version of the pacifist route Spamton fight where Kris goes down there with just Noelle instead and has the same post-battle freak out and Noelle being the one to notice/ask if they’re okay. And how she would react to the strained Yes vs yelled No. Especially knowing how she's so determined to figure out what's up with Kris in the weird route, I think it's interesting if she has the same attention to detail and desire to understand what's happening to Kris in the pacifist route.

ok my jaw kinda dropped open reading this. i have honestly never thought of this before and now im going Crazy. oh my gourd i reeeeeally hope someday in the future we get to face a secret boss with noelle…. it would be so awesomes

there is a real difference between how kris acts around noelle vs. how they act around ralsei and susie… because the latter two are ‘newer’ friends with less complicated history i feel as though they’re more straightforward and open around them in a sense. like theyre Able to bring themself to yell NO because they know in the back of their head that both susie and ralsei will try to comfort kris in their own ways. along with that, i guess it’s because of susie’s insistence on finding out if kris is okay or not that they managed to ask them if they were ok at all. basically, its multiple cases of less people holding back on various things…

i personally imagine it being kind of different for noelle. she Thinks a lot of things without actually saying them. she probably wouldn’t stop everything to question that just happened with spamton neo, and if she were to ask kris if they were ok, it would be more based on a gut feeling that something is really wrong more than anything else, if that makes sense… the way kris is friends with noelle is different than how they’re friends with susie. theyre almost less straightforward with noelle, with their idea of bonding being silly pranks and messing with her (stuff kris wouldnt do to susie lol). i wonder if they’d be able to be honest about how they felt like how they were with susie and ralsei, or if it’d turn into them hiding how they feel even more… (something something It’s hard for noelle to get a straightforward answer from kris in general)

noelle being concerned about what’s “happening” to kris in the main route feels difficult, maybe just because it’s so amplified negatively in the weird route, but at this point in time, most people seem to be interpreting kris’s more social behavior as a good thing… when something actually appears to be Wrong for the first time (kris freaking out after spamton neo), susie has no good benchmark of what kris was really like before, and ralsei is being Ralsei-ish about it… if kris were to have the same reaction in front of noelle after all, i think it would deeply disturb her way more than any other character. personally i just dont think kris is the Yelling Type, like at all, so for noelle to hear that from them for the first time (or maybe she’s heard kris yell before in a really bad situation, which then might let her know just how Bad this all is) it would probably really surprise her, and kris would probably regret shouting as a result… not a funny prank

just in general i think kris has a weird combination of like, wanting someone to Notice that something’s different, but also pushing people away out of fear and desire for solitude (and again this applies more so to noelle specifically). like in the main route, it might be easier to believe that things working out for everyone this way is just Better, no one else needs to worry about the Weird Fucking Thing controlling them, they can handle this on their own… until they cant. general desire to not burden others if at all possible. ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY noelle would Really have to lock in and pry at kris a little bit in order to find out that they are “not them” because in the main route where things Aren’t bad, that desperation from the soul doing fuck all in the weird route isnt there anymore

ok im gonna end the post here… your scenario activated a lot of neurons i never even knew i had

[chocobje]

This may be an odd question or a pretty deep question even.

What's worse to see, seeing your friends, accomplices, enemies, or anyone of that matter that you know.

Lose their humanity, becoming a shell of their former selves. (Becomes a Animal then soon Monster)

Or

Become the worst possible version of who they are, it's still them, but they're not the same anymore. (Becomes Evil or embodiment of the worst aspects of themselves)

The reason I asked this is because of your Field Research AU's concept of twisting. And my AU's concept of twisting, which the name of the AU is Garden of Divine Light and Twisted Darkness or GDLTD for short.

In your AU each time the toons die they sort of twist. Becoming a shell of their former selves (or more monstrous) each time they die and are brought back to life. Which results in angsty moments like your AU's sprout and the various other toons who have lost their humanity.

My AU goes to a different path in which a toon is corrupted by darkness from Ichor (usually by a twisted toon's Ichor being exposed on them in any way or a large amount of normal Ichor exposure) which in this AU is blood for them. This in turn makes toons twisted and being forced to become the worst version of themselves, but keep any of all memories intact and make them stronger and gain corrupted versions of their powers (yeah there's a lot of things different in this AU).

Which in turn led me in asking that question earlier. Sorry if this comes off as me showing off my AU and advertising it to you. I'm just passionate about it and your AU because it's cool to see it.

If you want to know more about it, you can check my Tumblr page it's pinned so you can see its explanation for it immediately.

And finally to end this paragraph, your art is inspiring and wonderful. It always captures the emotion that you convey and emphasizes certain parts to give it that look. That's what makes you a great artist in my eyes. And thank you if you read this and answer it Choco.

OO YOUR LORE SOUNDS VERY INTERESTING

U got a creative brain I love your take with the Twisted stuff! The idea of their morals being warped and distorted while having their memories sounds so haunting..

Honestly if it were me I feel like being unaware of the fact you are a monster is a little more merciful than having that guilt at the back of your head..

Also TYSM,, I'm glad I'm able to convey emotions through my art 🥹 Means a whole lot,, I appreciate this ask

[vaguely-concerned]

powerful mental image of lucanis expounding passionately about any given one of his limited but extremely deep areas of interest (the wyvern/knives/coffee/cooking/murder continuum of lucanis dellamorte special interests if you will) while rye lounges around and Beholds him with palpable twink boutta pounce energy

[emry-stars-art]

hi i just wanna say... FAT ANDREW!!! FAT ANDREW!!!!!!!! FAT ANDREW!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💞💘💓💝💗💝💖💗💝💓💘💓💘💗💗💓💞💗

I thoroughly appreciate your rep if my lurking in your art tag didn't show that yet 🥹

THANK YOU FOR LURKING AND FOR THE ASK I’ve been going off messing around with body types for the girls… and for everyone really, I just love drawing humans so much ✨ YEAH FAT STOCKY ANDREW

He’s doing his cool down stretches bc Kevin won’t let them leave until everyone’s done

[walmartbrandwhatever]

cherry and marcia hcs because I love them so dearly.

they met when they were 6 at a park. cherry was sitting alone on a bench and marcia being afraid of nothing just sat down and started yapping.

Marcia used to be afraid of nothing except for storms. whenever there was a storm she would curl up in the corner of her room and cry.

her parents weren't around much, both working to hard to keep the life they had built so her house was often empty.

cherry having a not so good home environment would spend days upon days at marcias and they would just hang out.

cherry was the quiet popular girl who did her work but when she was at marcias house they would talk the most shit and about drama going around the school.

cherry is really good at doing other people's hair, and it's something she quite enjoys doing. someday, when things get too stressful, Marcia will let Cherry just mess with her hair as they sit in silence or talk about what's bothering her.

Marcia used to roller skate a lot when she was younger but stopped when she reached highschool and started to worry more about her staus.

cherry lowkey hates oranges. she hates anything to do with them while marcia LOVES them.

on the days where they were practicing for rodeos they find a way to fuck with eachother.

they had a game where they had gotten this small little figure and have made it a game to place it somewhere on eachother and whoever has it has to try to get it to the other person without them noticing. the last time they played marcia got it to cherry(I'm gonna come back to this later)

once they reached high school, Cherry had met Bob in her math class. at first they didn't really talk but after being paired together during class they sort of just hit it off.

Marcia and Bob? did NOT hit it off. they started unsure of each other and then turned to them, not liking each other.

there was one day where bob and marcia had ended up alone waiting for the rest of there friends and marcia got to see the true version of bob Sheldon that had been pushed down deep.

he had started talking about the stars, going into detail about the ones he knew and how important they were to him. no matter what changed in his life or the little amount of actual love he got from his family they stayed a constant. a reminder that there were nice things that even he could see.

Marcia before would have never expected it from someone like him but it made her look at him with a different light. only for a little while because that was the only time she had ever seen that side of him. after that he went back to the bob Sheldon she had known. the bob Sheldon who hated her just as much as she hated him.

Marcia was considered a weird girl who was simply friends with Cherry Valance. that didn't bother her much up until that point.

Marcia hated how Bob treated Cherry like some sort of trophy. Cherry had always told her that he wasn't like that and that he was real kind and she didn't need to worry.

the weeks when Cherry would spend hours at Marcias turned into just a few days, focusing her time on Bob which didn't hurt Marcia.

she understood that a d she respected it. she spent most of her time with bev, brill, and trip. she learned a lot with them and learned that something were better kept hidden than out.

her parents had very different ways of thinking. her father grew up with a single father who didn't have much taught her to fit in and roam with the crowd because that's how you got successful while her mother grew up with a rich family who was cold and uncaring. she taught marcia to stick up for herself and to trust those who are her true friends.

Marcia often battled between what her parents wanted her to be. she wants to make her father proud, but she doesn't want to disappoint her mother, who always taught her to be kind and true to herself.

reaching highschool she learned real quick between the difference of social class and how she needed to fit in if she wanted to make it to graduation.

Bev had told her that she needed to stop "acting so weird, you'll never get someone if you act like that," and marcia had laughed in her face then. Bev, that day, wasn't too happy with her, nearly cost her the spot she had within the small group. she learned that day to take most things with a smile and that things would be easier if she just kept others happy.

Cherry had been spending time with Bob, the nights where they both just needed to escape from their lives, the would drive Bob's car out to a reserved place and just look at the stars.

the first time Bob got real drunk she had freaked the fuck out because she would not be with someone who ended up like her father.

he the next day had showed up at her house with flowers and with an apology. she practically melted into his arms after she explained to him why she had freaked. he had promised that it wouldn't happen again, though he never kept that promise, leading to her snapping at the nightly double.

Cherry post cannon distanced herself from all the socs for the most part. she only really stayed connected to chet and somewhat marcia.

the two grew apart for a little bit as Marcia battled with the pressure of her parents and with the ideas of social class.

one night marcia just completing broke down in front of her parents. they talked for hours after that, working through their problems and how she had been feeling. her parents had always loved her, she knew that but her father rarely showed any emotion and her mother too busy fighting with her own family to realize how her own family was falling apart.

the next day Marcia asked Cherry to talk and they did. Marcia apologized from practically everything that had happened andthey both made a promise to be better, to talk things out no matter how they felt.

that's all I have rn but please feel free to add in the comments or in my inbox 🙏 also trust I'm just feeding yall until I finish this fic.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I remember a long time ago you mentioned you hadn't really had any ships in campaign 3, which was a little odd for you. I'm wondering if you ever found any relationships romantic or otherwise that you've liked or feel yourself coming around to liking?

I'm still pretty neutral on everything! Most of the dynamics I like aren't really romantic. I am a fan of most of the relationship dynamics from a non-romantic lens for the most part, but when it comes down to romance, there's still stuff missing for me to really feel connected to it. Which is still kind of shocking to me but that's where we are!

[i-heart-hxh]

Favorite Killugon Headcannons??

Thanks for asking! I have a ton of headcanons about them because I've been into HxH for years and I think about them constantly... Some of the ones I have are longer and I'd like to develop them into fanfics eventually or at least individual posts, but here are some random shorter ones off the top of my head:

I prefer to think they end up with a similar height difference to the one they have now, just a few inches apart with Killua being a bit taller. This might be genetically unlikely, but it's my own preference.

They share a bed most of the time starting in Heavens Arena. Every now and then Killua will decide to go sleep in his own room (because they each get rooms in Heavens Arena for reaching the 100th floor), which leaves Gon feeling a bit lonely. They just get one room after Heavens Arena, and even if there are two beds in the room they'll still usually end up sharing one. The exception is if they're in a situation where someone else is likely to see them (i.e. Bisky in Greed Island), in that case Killua definitely splits off into his own bed. They don't generally intentionally, full-on cuddle/hug until after they reunite/get together, but they do end up sleeping right up against each other a lot nonetheless (accidentally or "accidentally"), which they both quietly love.

They're both casually touchy with each other, like arms over shoulders, fluffing each others' hair, play wrestling, sitting close together, sometimes even holding hands if one is guiding the other somewhere, etc., but again they don't really full-on hug until things change between them. Gon doesn't want to push Killua's boundaries too much because he knows Killua gets flustered if Gon gets too affectionate, and it's just an emotionally vulnerable thing to do. They certainly both think about it, though.

Gon is naturally an early riser and he's a deep sleeper, Killua struggles with insomnia because of his training and he tends to stay up late and sleep in if they don't have anything important going on. Killua's sleep patterns get more normalized by being around Gon, but he's usually up about an hour or more later even then (playing video games, watching movies, etc.).

Gon can make basic, simple foods because Mito taught him, Killua doesn't know how to cook at all at first because he grew up with butlers, but Gon gradually teaches him how to make some things. (They do eat out a lot, though.)

Gon tends to keep everything clean and tidy in their living spaces, Killua is a lot messier and will leave stuff laying around if Gon isn't there to remind him.

They teach each other about the differences in culture where they each grew up, like mythology/folk stories, holidays, popular phrases, etc.

They both have nightmares and flashbacks at times post-CAA (Killua always did, but they intensify) and once they reunite, they help comfort each other through those. It helps a lot once they're reunited, because they can easily know the other one is safe.

This may have to change someday depending on what Togashi does or doesn't do in canon, haha, but I like to think their separation isn't all that long, maybe a year or less, and once they're back together and working things out it doesn't take them all that long to confess to each other and start a relationship. Especially because once Gon realizes how he feels it's hard for him to hold it back; he only stops himself if he doesn't think Killua is ready to hear it yet.

Once they're in a relationship, it's basically like their natural state of being and they never even consider breaking up. Of course they both have things they have to work through and they have to learn to communicate better, but they adore each other and they're incredibly happy to be together. They're very affectionate with each other once they get through the initial stages of the relationship where they're just figuring things out.

Gon loves PDA, Killua is self-conscious about it but allows it in small doses because it makes him a little happy even if it's embarrassing.

They eventually have a house built on Whale Island, not far from Gon's childhood home. They have places elsewhere, too, because they love traveling around, but it's nice for them to be able to go "home" when they want to.

They never grow out of having silly competitions, light-hearted bickering, playing harmless pranks on each other, etc.

I could go on and on, but at least this is a start. It was fun thinking about it and writing some up instead of just having them live in my head all the time, thanks again for asking!

[smol-bean-of-the-smols]

writing notes on old art i wanna revamp like im grading it, idk why but its so fun and freeing

[bambiraptorx]

rip to all of my ocs who have been abandoned to the sands of time (never existed outside of my brain so there's nothing to reference about them except my own fallible memory)

[vounoura]

assuming they're not gonna pull a hard left turn out of nowhere again like in DD1 (tho I would really enjoy it if they did), but if they play the whole 'fated to fight the dragon' thing straight in this one I'll be a little disappointed

[erigold13261]

Some thoughts on the Family Tree Saga (I adore these):

To Celine, Joey and Gigi's Parent 1: What. The. Fuck./lh (Seriously, what was the inspo to make these three half siblings?/genq)

I wonder how Nova feels about their older sibling. Did they ever ask Nuru and Sarabi?

Uhh what happened to Tila's family tree? Where are her grandparents? Ancles?

Holy shit Noa are you okay????/lh

Hmm... if Miles has baby sister Billie, would he want to go to a college/uni in Vinyl City?

I like the idea that Maize (Ham's aunt) goes by Corn or Cereal in day to day life (That is why Ham calls herself Ham, food connections)

Have a feeling that that tree is Satoru's "official" family tree, bc I imagine the AMAB folk of blues family having non official concubines to have more children (so Satoru may have a bunch of half siblings or relatives who are not included in this tree)

Not to be nitpicky but I think the comics say that Shoko's powers are rare, and (I think) only Shoko can perform healing on other people as of now (Though I do like that its parents kept on trying for girls until they had a healer that can heal others too, only for that one to go rogue)

-Celin/Joey/Gigi: It's either a poly relationship with their mom being the center, or a singular parent was just a whore/jiggalo lol

The inspo actually comes from my own family. My nana had 4 kids, only 2 are full siblings, then my mom had 3 kids and only me and my brother are full siblings. That's probably the main reason I love the relationship of half siblings so much lol

-Nova: He most likely knows by now. Honestly he probably knew as a kid because his parents spoiled him rotten because they were just so happy to still have a child.

-Tila: Okay, my bad, I forgot about the grandparents in Tila's family tree lol. But both her parents were only kids, so no auncles. Grandparents aren't really in the picture so that's the main reason I forgot them (might change her tree honestly. I kinda blanked out when making hers tbh).

-Noa: No. No he's not. He got an extreme version of parentification and that was the major driving force for him to join Ex-Jay as a way to gain any sort of freedom (though his upbringing did kinda make him the mom friend of the group)

-Miles: Possibly not, but I think by the time he gets to college his sister will be about 3 years old (maybe 2) if he doesn't take a break from school to do so. I think at that point he'd be a bit more okay leaving to be with Gwen at school since Billie could go to daycare and stuff at that point (he'd be hesitant to, but his mom would want him to get the best education and music/art degree he can if that is truly what he wants to do with his life)

-Ham: Hey you saw my food joke/pun thing! Benny is also one! (Eggs Benny is another way to say Eggs Benedict lol). Love the idea that they will tell Maize to stop being corny or for Ham to stop hamming it up, just food puns like that as a cute close family!

-Satoru: Oh yeah, I can see that. Though if I thought of that I would have made it look like they had concubines/side pieces because I didn't even think of what an "official" family tree would look like. Like an official one from Neon J or Tatiana would probably look different from what I gave as the REAL one, but we can totally have this version of Satoru's as the "official" one the fam shows off.

-Shoko: See, I didn't know that! That is good information to know. But that also goes into the idea of "rare" as in the world, or "rare" as in anyone? Because in the world, possibly ONLY Shoko's family has that specific kind of healing power, which means it is still a rare power. But if you mean rare as in for anyone to have, then most likely Shoko is the only (or one of the only) people with that specific healing power (while other users are not related to it at all).

So personally I like the idea of a family power (similar to Eve and Pav), but we can always have it so that Shoko's family can only heal plant elementals or something like that. Perhaps only people connected by blood (so only family members) and Shoko is the only one to be able to heal outside of the family.

Definitely want to keep the idea that afab people in this family have more power than amab people, because I just like that idea for this family for some reason. Whatever the reasoning is (whether it's powers or something else), I think I'm keeping the family tree as is.

OH! Maybe it's like a power that skips generations! Shoko's parents knew their kids were most likely supposed to have this amazing and absolutely OP healing power. But each new kid just failed to produce it (even though they were girls which this power is more likely to show up in) so they kept trying (making SURE they were giving birth to a girl) until they got Shoko (and then, like you said, it defected from the family and "ruined" everything)

I actually like that version quite a bit! Gives a reason as to why the Auncle with no kid and no marriage was disowned since they weren't "participating" in keeping that generations healer alive.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

[petrichoravis]

love, written in the stars. | s.r.

summery: just a moment in the life you spend with Spencer.

what to expect: spencer reid x shy!reader, otherwise nondescript reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, lots of kissing, English is not my first language

word count: 1,3k (she's a cutie)

songs: ur so pretty - wasia project, falling in love - cigarettes after sex, kiss me - sixpence none the richer

a/n: little blurb as a thank you for all the love on bypros (lol that sounds like something medical) while I’m working on another project!!!

────── ⋆⋅☆

Your lips connected with Spencer’s as you roll over on the bed, his hands find the dip of your waist where they fit like you were made for each other, one mould.

Soft music was playing on your vinyl player, the curtains were softly fluttering in the breeze coming through the window.

You and Spencer have been like this for a while—kissing, rolling around the bed. Your hair was slightly messy from Spencer’s hands running through it and your shirt was rising up were your right hip met his left one.

The quiet clicking sound of your lips connecting and disconnecting, the way his soft lips were sliding over yours with a dizzying ease were the only things you could focus on.

Ever since you had known him, Spencer had been a good kisser, he always knew when to kiss you were, with the exact right amount of fervour for that exact moment. But you have often been told (by Derek Morgan, no doubt) that Spencer hasn’t always been the man you know him as today.

Sure, Spencer was still an awkward nerd who liked to ramble, but he had an air of confidence that made your knees weak.

You’ve seen pictures of him from before you met and you seriously feel like you had missed out on a great time of a lot of teasing and making Spencer blush as much as he was making you flustered.

Spencer pulls you out of your reminiscences by rolling both of you over, his free hand finding the back of your neck, the other stabilising him next to your waist. He pulls back and you whine, lifting your head to chase his mouth.

His laugh is almost hoarse, but his lips stay (cruelly) far away from yours.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks softly, tracing his thumb along your cheek and nose.

“How much I think you should kiss me again—” you murmur, but your attempt stays fruitless.

He smiles fondly, because he’s cruel like that. “What were you thinking about before?”

“I…” you twist a curl of his around your finger, it’s an almost shy gesture, if Spencer didn’t know any better. “Do you ever wish we had met earlier?”

He thinks for a moment while his eyes trace your features like he hasn’t seen them before, like there was still a new treasure to find. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about?”

A nod confirms his suspicion, “Yeah. I just…sometimes I—Derek showed me a picture of you when you were twenty-four.” You blurt out.

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Of course he did.”

“He told me how shy you were…how easily you got flustered. I—I don’t know. I kind of wish I got to meet that version of you. Every version of you.” You’re picking on the bedsheet out of shyness.

He just smiles, tilting your head gently so your eyes could meet his. “There you are.”

“You’re just so…confident now. I wish I could fluster you like you can me.”

Oh. “Oh, that’s what this is about? You think you can’t fluster me?” His smile really only proves your point and you try to hide behind your hands, but he won’t let you.

“Love, you fluster me all the time and you don’t even know it. Sometimes I feel like that version of myself again.” He says honestly.

“But you’re so…you always know what you’re doing.”

His smile softens a little. “I have no idea what I’m doing half the time, this is my first time really feeling secure and comfortable with myself in a relationship. You make me feel like I know what I’m doing. But you especially make me nervous.”

“How?” You’re still frowning (but a soft smile hides behind the facade), Spencer’s thumb reaches out to smooth the lines. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Let me think…” he grins like he already knows the answers to that equation (spoiler, he does).

“You do these little things…” he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “when you’re trying to reach for something in the upper cabinet and your shirt rises up, or when you touch my hair, for example.” He places another kiss to the other corner of your mouth. “Or just the way you look in general. Your face is incredibly flustering.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling openly now, a barely suppressable, giddy smile. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Those small things fluster you?”

“Uh-oh, I should not have told you all of that.”

“Absolutely you should have.” You grin, already thinking about all the ways to paint a soft red hue onto your boyfriend’s lovely face.

Speaking of, the man in question is looking down at you with a look that would make Jude Law look like he was glaring the entirety of The Holiday.

“What?” You laugh breathlessly, now back again with your attempt to get his mouth back on yours. You still can’t believe he just said that. Just like that.

“Nothing,” he says (the only way to describe his tone was lovingly). “You’re beautiful.”

“See? You’re doing it again.” You squint.

You obviously didn’t believe him. But he never did shy away from telling you his truths. So why would your beauty be different from the fact that the stars twinkle because their light passes through the atmosphere and is bent by varying temperatures and densities of the air? (Because it isn’t. Because it is just that, is what he would say if he wanted to stretch this into another argument about your beauty, a fact.)

But he decided that he wouldn’t fight you on it, he’d just simply know it enough for the both of you. He decided that he would rather keep kissing you breathless, until the stars in your eyes were twinkling because of a different reason. Because of him.

His lips connect back with yours before you can even think of protesting or—worse—reciprocating his compliment.

You smile against his lips as you finally get what you want (and truthfully, you were not going to protest, but he doesn’t need to know that if it means he’ll kiss you), burying your fingertips into the soft, brown mess that is his hair and your boyfriend sighs into your mouth.

The soft moment only lasts for a few seconds, though. The needle of your record player reaches the end, playing the last seconds of the song on repeat, signalling that needed to change discs.

The sound of a groan cuts through the air as you push against Spencer’s shoulders.

“Who invented this anyway? I’m sure they could have come up with something that automatically changes the sides.” You grumble as you push your boyfriend off of you, climbing out of the bed. (You make an extra big show of raising your arms to get the record sleeve from the shelf.)

“But that’s the charm, isn’t it?” He crosses his warms behind his head, watching you scurry around the room in his shirt and mismatched socks. One red with stripes, one purple, matching his.

You hold up two records. “Fleetwood or The Cranberries?”

He hums. “Your lips on mine?”

“I don’t think I know that band.”

“Smartass.”

“Mhm,” you reply as you start the record and climb back into Spencer’s arms. “My redeeming quality.”

Wrapping one arm around your back, settling in the dip, the other one cupping your jaw, he welcomes you back with a kiss on your forehead. “I don’t think there’s anything about you that needs redeeming, love.”

“That’s because you’re incredibly biased.” You don’t let him protest and kiss him again and he lets you, of course he does.

It would be a lie to tell you that your lips ever disconnected after that. You two stayed tangled up together until you became one with each other. And then with the many stars in the universe.

──────────── ⋆⋅☆

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