#to the point of CREATING FROST

[aroaceleovaldez]

every once in awhile i go on a demigod powers deep dive, and then i remember Nico can canonically just. randomly lower temperature and i just throw everything back out the window.

[alfredfortnitejones]

my brain is like Inside Out, but instead of little emotion personifications pulling the strings it's fictional characters I like

[bearforceone3]

firestorm and killer frost, from the time i thought it’d be neat if she was a counter-parallel to firestorm who’d reduce matter to its simplest forms

[beastsovrevelation]

I realized in all my Good Omens WIPs, the pairing of my Antichrist and War is just... Already established.

I mean...

She's on the verge of proposing in one scene, and it's Ch1 (like, do it, Maxine). *Insert me complaining about still being in skeleton dialogue phase with this - it's a long chapter, though*

It's kind of unusual, but, all the stories are set in timelines where they're already established. I don't mind, exactly... I might be interested in exploring the beginning at some point, but that would be set during Max's time in the military, as they met when she was in the military.

I suppose, Max might just be a character whose arcs aren't primarily focused on romance. There is romance, and it's a part of her, but not the essence of her. I shouldn't be surprised, I didn't create her just to be shipped. Especially not in solely Good Omens universe.

Oh, by the way, in case you (the soul who stumbled upon this somehow) didn't know, Enyo's ( Ἐνυώ, ha) a spirit of war from Greek mythology. I thought, I'll make it War's real name, I'm such a fan of it.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Having some soft Bernard thoughts

[hannahchronism]

being a writer who creates original characters like this character who is very angry and injured and scared of the world for all it did to her is me. her brother, who is very old for his years and tired and gentle while also having done horrible things that haunt him, is also me. also they are both their own people whose histories and personal stances don't really reflect any of my past or my ideologies. but also if you cleaved me in two it would look like this duo who is incapable of being independent from each other (because she could not live in the world without him, and he couldn't live with himself if something happened to her (again) and so he has to protect her) and also nothing like that because they aren't me. but i am the little sister who just cannot get it together and also the big brother who is holding it together for them and i am also neither of these people. what's not clicking.

[gojosprettyprincess]

Anal, Degradation, really filthy dirty talk, Todo is very mean, Dubcon??, he cums in your ass, Not proofread!!

A/n this isn't the best bc it was super rushed so I apologize for that n I cringed sm while writing this so please be aware😭

AnalFreak! Todo who finally gets his hands on you after so fucking long, after all those shitty nights where he'd fuck his hard fist pathetically, imagining it was your tight little ass gripping around his thick cock milking him till he floods your insides with cum but now—now he finally has the real thing he dreamt of for so fucking long and it drove him soo crazy.

You cried out in half pain-half pleasure as the large man behind you fucks into your puckering hole brutally, a strong hand gripping tightly around your neck to the point where you were struggling to breathe, forcing you to look up at him with teary eyes as he prys open your butthole, his cockhead practically kissing your guts every time he shoves it all the way in your ass. "Fuckk that's a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well, you don’t have any fucking idea how badly I’ve been dreaming about this baby”.

he lets out a loud gravelly moan at how tight you were closing around his cock every time he pulls it out with just the tip reminding inside, just to force it back with each controlling thrust, hissing at how hard and snugly your butthole clenches around his cock.

More and more tears welled up in your eyes as you felt his hard cock twitching against your tight anal wall, a lump forming deep in your throat as you felt your legs starting to give in. “Ohh, fuckfuckfuckkk gonna bury my cum so fucking deep in this dirty hole baby. Your such a nasty slut ya know that? Clenching and gripping around my cock like a fucking whore, you must really love this dick don’t you?” Tears flooded down your cheeks as you shook your head, looking up at him defeatedly. He chuckles and kisses your temple, “Aw come on baby, you know you don’t mean that, the way your asshole is swallowing up my cock like this, no way” he laughs mockingly, eyes looking down to where his cock disappears into you like magic.

“Fu-ck todo! It’s s’big, s'deep inside of me" you cried out, feeling him gaping and stretching your asshole into the sheer size of his girthy cock as he flicks your tears away with his thumb. “I know baby, I know m’almost done, gonna give this pretty butthole a nice creamy filling yeah?” He groans, cock twitching and jumping against your walls before he lets out a low “fuckk” as he began shooting out white ropes of cum-frosting deep into your ass, he made sure to stop when his cock was in all the way in to the hilt, to the point where your dripping cunt was smearing slick onto his hard balls.

His cock was hidden soo deep in your ass, the cum filling up your walls just like how you’d stuff cream in a pie. Your legs gave in as you fell towards his chest but were obviously, quickly caught by his big strong arms n his cock still buried inside of you, he bent you over on the nearest surface. your upper body laying down as he slowly pulled his cock out of your ruined ass, dragging it all the way out before admiring the pretty delicious gape that he created, he stuffed a pointer finger into your asshole, pushing any cum that was threatening to spill out all the way back in. “Mmm so cute baby, all stuffed and filled with my cum", he slaps your ass over and over, admiring how the thick flesh jiggles against him on impact, "Love this tight fucking ass so much baby, m'fucking obsessed”.

[local-dragon-haunt]

hey! i’m an artist and i was wondering what about the httyd crossover art made it obviously AI. i’m trying to get better at recognizing AI versus real art and i totally would have just not clocked that.

Hey! This is TOTALLY okay to not have recognized it, because I DIDN'T AT FIRST, EITHER. Unfortunately there’s no real foolproof way to distinguish real art from the fake stuff. However I have noticed a general rule of thumb while browsing these last few months.

So this is the AI generated image I used as inspiration. I will not be tagging the account that posted it because I do not condone bullying of any type, but it’s important to mention that this was part of a set of images:

This is important because one of the BIGGEST things you can use to your advantage is context clues. This is the thing that clued me in: right off the bat we can see that there is NO consistency between these three images. The art style and outfits change with every generated image. They're vaguely related (I.E. characters that resemble the Big Four are on some sort of adventure?) and that's about it. Going to the account in question proved that all they posted were AI generated images. All of which have many red flags, but for clarity's sake we'll stick with the one that I used.

The first thing that caught my eye was this???? Amorphous Blob in the background. Which is obviously supposed to be knights or a dragon or something.

Again, context clues come into play here. Artists will draw everything With A Purpose. And if what they're drawing is fanart, you are going to recognize most of what you see in the image. Even if there are mistakes.

In the context of this image, it looks like the Four are supposed to be running from these people. The thing that drew my attention to it was the fact that I Didn't Recognize The Villains, and this is because there is nothing to recognize. These shapes aren't Drago, or Grimmel, or Pitch, or any other villain we usually associate with ROTBTD. They're just Amorphous Blobs that are vaguely villain shaped.

Which brings me to my second point:

Do you see the way they're standing? There is no purpose to this. It throws the entire image off. Your eye is drawn to the Amorphous Villain Blobs in the background, and these characters are not reacting to them one bit.

Now I'm not saying that all images have to have a story behind them, but if this were created by a person, it clearly would have had one. Our group here is not telling a story, they are posing.

This is because the AI does not see the image as a whole, but as two separate components: the setting, and the description of the characters that the prompter dictates. I.E. "Merida from Brave, Jack Frost from ROTG, Rapunzel from Tangled, and Hiccup from HTTYD standing next to each other"

Now obviously the most pressing part of this prompt are the characters themselves. So the AI prioritizes that and tries to spit out something that WE recognize as "Merida from Brave, Jack Frost from ROTG, Rapunzel from Tangled, and Hiccup from HTTYD standing next to each other".

This, more times than not, is going to end up with this stagnant posing. Because AI cannot create, it can only emulate. And even then, it still can't do it right. Case in point:

This is not Hiccup. The AI totally thinks this is Eugene Fitzherbert. Look at the pose. The facial structure. The goatee. The smirk. The outfits. He's always next to Raps. Why does he have a quiver? Where's Toothless? His braids? His scar??

HE HAS BOTH OF HIS LEGS.

The AI. Cannot even get the most important part of it's prompt correct.

And that's just the beginning. Here:

More amorphous shapes.

So these are obviously supposed to be utility belts, but I mean. Look at them. The perspective is all off. There are useless straps. I don't even know what that cluster behind Jack's left arm is supposed to be.

This is a prime example of AI emulating without understanding structure.

You can see this particularly in Jack, between his hands, the "tassels" of his tunic, and the odd wrinkles of his boots. There's just not any structure here whatsoever.

Lastly, AI CANNOT CREATE PATTERNS.

Here are the side-by-sides of the shit I had to deal with when redesigning their outfits. Please someone acknowledge this. This killed me inside. THIS is most recognizable to me, and usually what I look for first if I'm wary about an art piece. These clusterfuck bunches of color. I hate them. I hate them so. much.

Anyways here's some other miscellaneous things I've noticed:

Danny Phantom Eyes

???? Thumb? (and random sword sheath)

Collarbone Necklace (corset from hell)

No Staff :( No Bow :(

What is that.

So yeah. Truly the best thing to do is to just. study it. A lot of times you aren't gonna notice anything just looking at the big picture, you need to zoom in and focus on the little details. Obviously I'm not like an expert in AI or anything, but I do have a degree in animation practices and I'm. You know. A human being. So.

In conclusion:

(Y'all should totally reblog my redesign of this btw)

[neil-gaiman]

hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

[docjayfeather]

All of the Ren Lore i’ve compiled from his single player series and old streams

Favorite meal is roast lamb and roast potatoes

Has an ex-girlfriend

Hates One Direction

Was on a boating team in high school

His mother’s first cat’s name was Ebony

His single player world started in 1.2

Ren’s favorite language is Spanish

Ren has been to Spain several times

His brother had a dog named Rorschach

Ren’s favorite armor set in the original Diablo was the Moon set

Ren and his brother used to have to shower/bath together, then dry off infront of an electric fireplace. Through a series of events, young Ren got his butt stuck to the glass pane of the electric fireplace, and has had a scar on his butt since.

Ren has said “I always think about [Ren’s brother’s username] when I think about my butt”

Ren knows how to do a cats cradle

Ren used to have frosted tips

Ren’s favorite commander deck is Kraum/Tymna

Ren got kicked in the literal butthole by a horse

Ren likes burning things

Ren created a rigged marble slot machine in high school

Went on an introspection journey, visiting all the places he lived and all his jobs pre-YouTube

Did the insane thing of asking the lady who was now living in his first house if he could go inside and check out his old room

Ren had a patreon tier where he’d sent his patrons a “Ren Crate”, a lootcrate full of stuff

Ren doesn’t drink (anymore)

Officially has OCD

Ren loves apple juice

Ren loves driving games

Event manager for The Deftones once

Plays MtG on Sundays

Ren wants to retire with Doc

Ren’s wants his spirit animal to be a shark

Ren’s favorite book series is LotR

Ren is “below-average hairy”

Ren’s favorite season is Autumn

Ren’s birthday is October 11th

Ren is a slut for tiramisu and ice cream

Ren wants to open an LGS/tabletop cafe

Ren is not a religious person

Ren worked in a seedy pool bar

Ren almost got an upper back tattoo

Ren loves green tea

Ren is Left Handed

Ren was at one point a vegetarian for several years

Ren has lost his wallet multiple times, once leaving it on a train

Ren eats a whole lemon every day, and drinks lemon juice straight from the lemon

Ren got in trouble at boarding school for “trying to summon demons”. He was just playing MtG.

Ren has had a pair of lucky underwear since he was 18

Ren’s favorite ice cream is strawberry

Ren loved getting aggressively physical in rugby

Ren loves cinnamon buns

Ren used to have super long butt-length hair

Ren really liked playing with fireworks when he was younger. They’d bury huge ones in the sand near their house to make craters.

Ren loves Love Island

Ren can only sleep on his arm

Wears exclusively Star Wars socks and has matching pajamas

Beat Gabriel Nasif in a Magic Grand Prix

Ren hates Oysters

Ren’s favorite dog breed is a chihuahua??

Ren’s favorite dnd class is bard

Ren enjoys cleaning the bathroom the most out of any room

Ren’s favorite musical is Les Miserables

Ren has a favorite kitchen knife, and used to cook a lot.

Ren’s favorite tool is the hoe (of course)

Ren and Iskall used to play League

Never farts irl

born in the same city as J R R Tolkien

Ren named his first car Maximus

Ren is a bath person

Natural Mace Race runner

Ren really likes pet rats

Ren has a very consistent shopping day of tuesday

Ren has an extremely strict sleep schedule

Ren has 7 pairs of the same pajamas to wear 24/7

Ren has a BA in English

Ren does 100 push-ups a day

Ren does a 15k bike ride every day

Ren had a max weight of 110 kilos, is now down to 80

Ren uses youtube in light mode

Ren has seen Metallica live

Ren wore fake glasses in college

Ren has 20/20 vision

[mokulule]

Eternity, I pledge

Dead on MAYn Day 3  Prompt: King Danny & Knight Jason Warnings: angsty and bittersweet.

Jason kneeled in front of his King. Around them the court of ghosts were quiet, but they could have been shouting for all that Jason noticed them; he only had eyes for one person.

Danny.

His King, his savior, his… friend. He had never seen him cold like this. For all that he had a core of ice, he usually had such warmth to him, a smile never far from his lips. 

He was laughter and gentle teasing as he eased Jason into his new powers - softening Jason’s frustration with tales of his own early struggles with his powers. He was a grounding hand to hold as Jason had to come to terms with the fact he hadn’t come all the way back. He was a tired smile after a long patrol, dark circles under human eyes, blunt nails rubbing into his scalp, something they hadn’t talked about building warm and pleasant in the space between them.

But now he was cold, frigid and deadly like icy waters. He was furious.

It wasn’t like Jason had expected him to be happy, Jason wasn’t an idiot. He’d known Danny would be unhappy, but he hadn’t expected this.

“Make your pledge then,” Danny finally spoke, though it was more like a cold snap. Frost nipped at Jason’s very human nose. There was nothing to do but go ahead, Jason could no more take back his actions than Danny could refuse them. He met Danny’s glowing blue eyes straight on and forced himself to speak loudly and firmly.

“I, Jason Todd, pledge myself to you, Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite realms, to uphold your word as law, to serve as both your sword and shield-“ Jason paused to take a breath and then plunged in, “to be your Knight until the End.”

His words rang out with finality. The ancient pledge had not been heard in millennia, not since Halloween pledged himself to Dark and was dubbed Fright Knight. He suppressed a gasp as energy surged in his core. He felt open, laid bare. 

Finally Danny pulled the ice sword at his side, it howled like a storm as it escaped its scabbard. Jason felt chilled, for one terrifying moment certain that Danny would reject his pledge and plunge the blade into his chest. He had no idea where that came from. He trusted Danny with his life, but he had never seen him so angry.

Then, the blade rested lightly on one shoulder, then the next.

“Rise, my Red Knight.”

Jason rose stiffly. This would probably have been easier in ghost form, if nothing else he’d have been more resistant to the cold, but Jason hadn’t yet reached a point where he was comfortable in that form. Finally he’d wrangled his cold muscles into order and was standing.

Danny thrust the sword hilt into Jason’s right hand and blessedly held on as the power surged into him from the sword, a tsunami of power racing into his core. His knees threatened to buckle, but Danny squeezed harder and Jason forced his legs straight. The power, Danny’s power, felt exhilarating. There was pain too as his still healing core was forced to grow to accept it, but most of all it felt like flying, like stars swirling above, and that delighted swoop in his stomach.

Finally, after it felt like his core had grown three sizes and he would simply burst if he received any more power it stopped. Dazed Jason looked from his hand, to Danny’s hand still holding on. Then his gaze moved to Danny’s face and it was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him.

“I hope you’re happy,” Danny spat lowly only for their ears, then let go, leaving the ice blade in Jason’s hand; he may as well have left it stabbed through his heart. 

The silence turned into a cheer around them that roared like useless noise in Jason’s ears. None of that mattered, only Danny, who turned his back on Jason and left.

Inside he screamed, howled like the winds he knew his new blade - Stormbringer, it whispered to him - would create, if only he let it. Jason sheathed the sword, ending the temptation. He wanted to go after Danny, but he had been surrounded by well-wishing ghosts, only some he recognized. He wanted to go after Danny, but he had never seen him so angry, maybe it was better to let leave him alone for now. He let the ghosts move him to the party, but he wasn’t quite there.

A year ago was the first time Jason noticed something more than usual was wrong with him. He tired easily. Sleeping didn’t replenish his strength. The rage that had been a constant companion was down to embers - something he’d thought was the result of bettering the relationship with his family, but apparently rage had been the fire that had kept him going and now- then- he’d been dying. 

It had been a slow steady decline. He tired more easily. His aches and bruises healed slower, and then it seemed not at all. It had taken two months from Jason realizing until he’d told Alfred as the first one, but by then they’d all suspected something was up anyways.

Nearly six months ago Jason had been bedridden, moved to the mansion for what they feared were his last days. 

That is when Danny - Phantom then - had come, like a light in the encroaching darkness. Jason could still vividly feel his ghostly fingers on his cheeks, his forehead resting against his as he seemed to breathe life back into him - or rather as he would later learn afterlife, ghost energy, ectoplasm. 

Jason had been properly awake and free of pain for the first time in months. 

Danny’s theory was that Jason had been a slowly forming halfa, when the League had gotten their hands on him. Jason would have probably eventually come back to awareness if just left on his own, though it may have taken years. Of course, nobody had known that, and Jason’s dip in the Lazarus Waters had forcibly brought his brain back online. 

Lazarus Water, however, was antithesis to ectoplasm. It healed only the living. It had only worked because his body had been enough alive due to the strangeness that governed halfa formations, but it had stunted his core formation - poisoned it. And so when the life force given to him by Lazarus had burned out, there had been nothing to stop Jason’s slow decay, his Ending - until Danny, who had been passing through Gotham had sensed him.

There had been a lot of chaos. His family had thought for a terrible moment that Phantom clad in his cloak seemingly weaved of the night sky itself had been Death themself come to claim him. And in a way he was, though it would only be later they learned he was the Ghost King. 

He had introduced himself, only after saving Jason, as Phantom, merely a passing spirit. Bat paranoia momentarily shelved due to Jason’s recovery, had meant fewer questions than would have normally been asked. Yes, Jason would recover now. No, he did not need anything in return. 

And then he’d gone.

A week later Jason was well enough to go home to his own apartment, cleaned by Alfred for his return, because it had been in a sorry state when he left. Finally alone, that was when Phantom had appeared again. That was when Phantom introduced himself as Danny, to just Jason, because they were the same. That was when Danny explained his theory, because he had spent the week doing research.

He could have just left, but Jason would be developing powers now. Danny wanted to be sure Jason had the support he’d never had. So, he wanted to tell him he was sticking around Gotham in case he needed him. 

And boy, had Jason needed him when he got stuck having fallen halfway through the floor a week later. Luckily Jason had had his phone in hand when it had happened and Danny was only a call away. 

It would be another month until Jason discovered that by sticking around Gotham it meant human Danny was squatting in a damp, moldy, half collapsed building slated for demolition and Jason had dragged him back to his own apartment - no matter Danny’s protests that the vibes were right for a ghost and that he couldn’t get sick anyways.

But despite his protests Danny hadn’t left. 

It was easier like that, Danny was close when he had mishaps and besides he was good company, especially because he’d been benched due to rapidly developing powers and didn’t have the outlet of patrols. 

It was easier, despite how it meant Danny had to be reintroduced to the rest of the family. Something that Jason thought went rather well, but Danny lamented as an unmitigated disaster. 

Two months ago, Danny had started to look worried. 

One month ago Danny had explained he would have to leave soon. Jason would be okay, he had his basic powers under control. He might still develop more, but since he had a feel for his core now, he’d likely master them easily enough. 

Danny would visit of course. He hoped Jason would like him to visit. 

Jason had prodded and prodded until Danny admitted to being the Ghost King. That his Knight was sick due to having broken his oath to the previous king. He had released him from the oath, but the only reason he was still existing at all was due to him being the spirit of Halloween. 

He was without a Knight and that was not a situation that could continue. For the stability of the Infinite Realms and himself he had to have a Knight. He had to leave to oversee the challenges the candidates had to overcome. 

Jason had asked to come along, to see the Infinite Realms he also belonged to. Danny had been unable to argue that point. He had even despite his worry, given Jason a small excited smile telling him he looked forward to showing him. 

Jason had felt a stab of guilt, because his real reason was to enter the challenges. 

Jason had known Danny would be angry, but he had never imagined he’d be that angry. The words “I hope you’re happy” spat at him like acid, echoed in his mind again and again.

A whispy hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He’d mostly been left alone by the partying ghosts at this point. He around turned to see the translucent shadowy form of Halloween. 

It was hard to believe this had once been the Fright Knight depicted in paintings and tapestries in the castle. He was barely solid for short bursts that pulled his shadows together only to drift apart again slowly. Only his green eyes shone with any sort of vitality. 

“You did well,” his voice was weak like a call from a distance instead of right next to his ear. 

Jason didn’t know whether to laugh or cry right then, his throat made some sort of half choked noise without his permission. “Danny doesn’t think so.”

“You were the strongest candidate, especially suited to His Majesty… because you are both Halfa…” 

Jason could practically see the way Halloween’s energy waned as he struggled to speak. He tried to tell him he didn’t have to say anymore, but the former Knight forged on.

“He will see…. 

In time…”

Jason grabbed for him reflexively as he faded from view. For just a moment, Jason thought he’d Ended, just like Jason had nearly Ended half a year ago. His breath stuck panicked in his throat, until he realized he could still feel Halloween’s presence. 

Slowly and carefully he let out his burning breath. Halloween had merely exhausted himself.

-

The following week was torture. Danny didn’t lose his cold fury for even a moment, as Jason followed him on his official duties: meetings and introductions of Jason as Red Knight to the leaders of the Realms, as well as the more mundane territory disputes and requests spanning from help with the more eldritch elements of the Realms to approval of taking a date to the living realms Danny apparently dealt with, now and again, that had been put off when Danny had been in the living realm. 

He was quite literally giving Jason the cold shoulder. The Realms were noticeably colder than they had been when they had arrived together. The Far Frozen seemed to be the only place that wasn’t affected, but then that had already been frigid. The ghosts they met with were unnerved by Danny’s mood, even though he was fair as ever. From what Ember had told him with an amused smirk, they usually argued more with Danny, so at least something good had come out of Danny’s anger with him. 

Every day of this Jason’s frustration grew. How were they supposed to resolve things when Danny would not even look at him! It was like the Danny he knew had been locked behind a glacier and every day it became more and more tempting to try and punch his way through the barrier.

It came to a head in a hallway. They had spent a very long day in a meeting with a delegation from some far off kingdom that had spent something like five years to even get here to greet the new Ghost King. Jason was tired from standing all day, and Danny stopping in the hallway, barely turning his head to say “you may leave”, was the last drop.

“What is the matter with you!” Jason snapped.

“Me?” Danny asked dangerously, the air itself rippled around him, but Jason had had enough, he was prepared to dig his grave as deep as it needed to go.

“Yes you, what the Hell crawled up your ass?”

Danny turned in the air and for the first time his anger was hot. He poked Jason in his chest forcing him to take a step back. If Jason had been in ghost form, maybe he could have resisted.

“I take you here on your request to see the Realms, and you lied to me. You enter the challenges. You, who couldn’t even free yourself from the floor a few months ago, who didn’t even know you were a ghost! You, who are still not comfortable enough to stay in your ghost form for any length of time! You could have Ended.”

Jason’s momentary guilt was burned up by the attacks on his faillings. 

“But I didn’t. I won. Even in my weak human form.”

Danny scoffed. “What do you want Jason? A gold star for binding yourself to me for eternity? You didn’t even talk to me!”

“You wouldn’t have let me!”

“Of course I wouldn’t. I’ve had a decade to come to terms with eternity, you’ve had not even six months!”

“Six months, a decade, I don’t see how it matters. You needed a Knight!”

“It didn’t have to be you!”

“You would have settled for one of those two bit ghosts?”

“They would have been serviceable!”

Fury and jealousy rose so fast and ugly in his chest Jason expected to see green - of course no green came, because Danny had rid him of every last speck of Lazarus influence when he’d healed him. Danny, who had shown him a whole new world, who’d made him feel like- His thoughts staggered, unwilling to go there. Danny was telling him he’d rather have some low rate poltergeists, that was the important part.

“You would pick them over me!”

“Kneel, Jason!” Danny’s voice thundered and Jason’s knees promptly hit the floor sending a jolt of pain all the way up his spine. Disoriented, it took him a moment to understand, a moment for the horror to settle in. 

His body had moved on its own. “Do you get it now, what it means that my word is law?” Danny snarled and held the anger for all of three more seconds. Then, his face crumbled and he fell to his own knees in front of Jason. His hands clenched into fists in his lap as he looked up at Jason. Jason was shocked to see tears in his eyes. 

“Do you understand now?” Danny pleaded, “Do you understand what you’ve pledged to me for eternity?”

“Danny…” Finally, Jason understood why Danny was so upset. 

“I love you Jason,” Danny confessed hoarsely, voice barely more than a whisper, “I wanted you by my side, not three steps behind.”

Jason followed the tears down Danny’s cheek until they made small splashes as they landed on his clenched fists. 

“Danny,” Jason repeated and drew him into his arms. Danny shuddered through a sob and desperately held on to him in return. 

“Why did it have to be you?” 

Jason didn’t have any arguments anymore, he was left only with the simple truth. He couldn’t abide anyone else as Danny’s Knight-

“Because I love you.”

Danny only cried harder at that. The entire castle shook and rolled with his grief. Jason couldn’t do anything but hold him. Nothing he could say could change the past. 

Nothing could change the fact that he would do it again.  

He buried his face in Danny’s soft hair to hide his own tears. It was the truth. No one else was good enough. Maybe if there had been more time, but there hadn’t. Danny had already spent a decade with a not-properly pledged Knight, who was weakened from betraying the old King. They had already pushed the choosing as far as they could waiting for Danny to grow into his own role. Halloween had explained this to Jason. “Why-” Jason stopped for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts into something sensible, “why does this have to stop us?” Danny drew back, looking a Jason in disbelief with his red-rimmed eyes. 

“I hold all the power, that’s a terrible basis for a relationship!”

Jason reached out, cupping Danny’s cheek. He closed his eyes and he couldn’t help but lean into it.

“You wouldn’t misuse that power - I trust you.” Jason didn’t trust easily, but Danny had had the power all throughout the time they’d known each other. Even if it hadn’t been as clear. Even if it hadn’t been as literal as now, he’d always been careful of making sure Jason had a choice, he’d been homeless in Gotham to stick around just in case Jason wanted his help. Jason trusted him.

“I don’t trust me,” Danny said quietly and his usually glowing green eyes were matte and lifeless as he reopened them to look at Jason. “Eternity is a very long time, Jason. People change.”

Jason growled. He hated seeing Danny so listless, so defeated. As if him becoming a tyrant was a certain path. He took Danny’s face into both his hands and pressed his forehead to his in a mirror of what Danny had done so many months ago. If only Jason could inject a bit of life back to him, but that wasn’t Danny problem. Danny problem was that Jason was bound to obey him through his pledge. His pledge!

“Swear to me-“ What? He couldn’t swear not to ever give Jason an order, he was his Knight he would serve his King, he gained power from serving him. There had to be something else. Something that would let Jason help and not just follow blindly…

“Swear never to silence me, swear you will at least listen and consider and-“ Jason smiled “I will tell you when you are being an idiot.”

Danny sputtered drawing back Jason’s hands to hold them instead, but there was light back in him as he looked at Jason bemused.

“This doesn’t solve the core problem.”

“No. But I like to think it helps.”

Danny huffed. Then looking at Jason intently for any indication of discomfort he lifted Jason’s right knuckles to his lips. A delighted shudder ran up Jason’s arm leaving his hairs standing on end.

“I think it’s supposed to be the other way around,” Jason commented mouth dry as sand.

Danny ignored his inane comment and just kept holding Jason’s eyes as he spoke, “I swear to never silence you.” Then he lifted up the left hand and kissed those knuckles too. “I swear I will at least listen to and consider your words.”

The promise settled like a weighted blanked around them. It was nothing like the pledge in the throne room, which was power and chains, even if Jason hadn’t recognized the chains at the time, this was a comfort. 

They had a long way to go still, but at least Danny was the Danny he knew now instead of the furious king. They had time, eternity in fact to work out things. 

Jason tried to think of that as a good thing.

-

I feel I must apologize for the ending, it's just the mood this fic wanted. But I hope you enjoyed it anyways!

If it helps I do imagine them happy eventually, though it takes Danny a very very long time to ever give words to things he wants in the context of the two of them.

[flawseer]

On Mudwing Culture

My last deliberation on Seawings and their eccentric insult vocabulary seemed to be well-received, so here is another one of my headcanons:

Mudwings are seriously into food.

I know, pretty revolutionary take when there is only a handful of named Mudwing characters, and two of them love eating so much that it either almost or entirely eclipses their personality.

But Clay and Ochre are not what I am talking about. This isn’t about a love of eating (though many Mudwings admittedly do have that). I’m suggesting that, out of all the tribes from Pyrrhia, Mudwings are at the forefront of food preparation and culinary innovation, to the point where a large part of their culture revolves around it.

The State of Food Preparation on the Continent

Pyrrhia as a conglomerate of different cultures largely sustains its populations through hunting and gathering. The average dragon, when the hunger pangs set in, will make a hasty trip into the nearest forest, cave, or scavenger den and round up some prey animals. In most cases, this prey will go straight from the talons to the mouth, or, if the hunter is a bit more forward-thinking, into the pantry, and then from talons to the mouth.

There are a few variations of this practice; Skywings may give the carcass a quick roast on an open flame before eating it, Sandwings may dry the meat out so the excess moisture does not upset their internal water balance, Rainwings will prefer fruit over meat. Icewings will nearly always consume their prey raw and unseasoned, as their extremely delicate palate is easily overwhelmed by intense flavors that may be released through cooking.

More complex forms of food preparation seem to exist mostly outside the scope of the general populace. The practice of “cooking” appears to be limited to the ranks of aristocracy, with dedicated cooks only found within the court of a queen or in private households of other high-born individuals. It creates a sharp divide between commoners and social elites, between the wealthy and (as Sea Queen Coral once put it so succinctly) the “eel-eating masses”. All exemplified through the differing standards of food.

And yet somehow, standing in stark contrast to everywhere else on the continent, nearly every Mudwing-- from the most low-born runts of the Diamond Spray Delta to the most decorated head advisors in the Queen’s palace --knows how to cook, and will do so regularly.

Why is that, and how did it happen?

Historical Benefits of Cooking

Most things that form the backbone of a culture usually start with some ancient practice that was useful at some point in time and then, as people kept doing it, eventually got absorbed into public awareness and became “the way things are done”.

Mudwings face a unique challenge compared to anyone else, as they are the only tribe whose combat prowess is significantly affected by their environment, specifically climate, weather, and temperature. Sure, you can take any dragon, drop them into an unfavorable climate, and they will generally perform worse than under normal circumstances. But the unique weakness of Mudwings is that they lose their breath weapon when they get too cold. Place an Icewing into a burning room and they will still be able to use their frost breath. Pluck a Sandwing from their dry environment and drop them into the humid, sweltering hell of the jungle, their natural weapons will still function. But make a Mudwing cower between two piles of snow for a while, and their internal fire will go out quickly.

As you might imagine, this is a bit of a liability when you have to defend your territory from Skywings hiding and scheming among the frozen peaks bordering your country.

So the ancient Mudwings had to figure out a solution to their conundrum, and what they came up with was this: They got a large pot and filled it with water, threw in all manner of meats, plants, and herbs, whatever they could find where they were holed up, then boiled it until it was good and filling. The hot food in their bellies helped them stay warm even at high altitudes and allowed them to stand their ground against the northwestern invaders.

Soon it became tradition for troops to share a hotpot the night before battle, and a rich variety of hearty broths and stews developed from there, as these were simple to make from scraps and could be reheated easily. The practice became so popular, the Mudwings kept doing it even during peacetime. Soon, in addition to the hunting of prey animals that was commonplace, Mudwings began to cultivate vegetable gardens to have access to a more stable supply of ingredients. Eventually, their growing understanding of agriculture allowed them to grow rice, which was especially well-suited to the abundance of wetlands found in their territory. Everyone was cooking now.

The Role of Food in Mudwing Society

If you ask several Mudwings which core values represent their tribe best, many would likely put forward some variation of “camaraderie”, “family”, or “loyalty to your sibs”. They are a very social people who form deep bonds with those whom they grew up with, and one of the most direct ways to grow close to someone is to share your meals with them every day. As such, the preparation and consumption of food is a vital part in maintaining cohesion between members of a Mudwing sibling group.

Every one of these groups will have a “Bigwings”, which is understood to be a combination of a leader and caretaker role. The Bigwings is aware of all of their sibs’ culinary preferences and needs and has all of the troop’s recipes memorized. When mealtime approaches, he or she makes the call on what kind of dish will be prepared and delegates roles and tasks to the troop. This is a daily exercise that builds the Bigwings’ authority and communication skills, and reinforces trust and familiarity between all siblings.

Next to the Bigwings is the Gatherer, which historically was a role assigned to one or more troop members who foraged for wild vegetables or hunted more prey if the previous communal hunt did not yield enough. While this is still true today, many Gatherers also maintain a garden or wet patch to source fresh vegetables or grain for meals.

And lastly there is the Communicator, which is a role usually assigned to the most social and charismatic sibling. The Communicator is vital for coordinating battle strategies with other troops, which, while very important, is not really all that relevant for this deliberation. What is relevant however, is the role they fulfill during peacetime, which is to set up joint meals between two or more sibling groups. This practice is critical for maintaining morale, as doing this regularly helps expand the troop’s palette and keep their Bigwings inspired. That way the troop’s collection of recipes stays fresh and innovative instead of turning stale and rigid.

Of course how much each troop values culinary exploits varies between individuals. Some Mudwing groups are outspokenly passionate about cooking and advancing their craft. They might view their work as an expression of art and get very upset or offended if you indicate that thinking about food is unimportant or a waste of time. Some extreme cases may even get angry at you if you waste ingredients or refuse to elevate a dish to its fullest potential by not seasoning it well or doing something else to ruin it. Other groups may be more relaxed and casual about food preparation, and a few might even not think about it much at all.

If a Mudwing invites you to dinner, it is paramount to figure out which of these groups they belong to beforehand, so you may get an understanding of how much of a threat this outing may pose to your health, especially if you are an Icewing or Seawing with a limited palate.

Is there any evidence for this in the books?

To my knowledge, there isn't much. Mostly because there isn't much about Mudwings and their culture in general. Across all the books, only one of them has a Mudwing protagonist, and the vast majority of it is spent in the Sky Kingdom, so his roots don't get a lot of exposure. Then whenever another Mudwing comes into the story, they tend to exit it very quickly after, without being able to share more.

I made this theory for myself largely in response to Mudwing culture being such a big question mark. I initially came up with it when I saw a Mudwing gardener in Escaping Peril and thought "That could be a cool direction for the tribe." The guidebook that released recently gave me some additional pointers with regards to a few of the looser points of this theory.

I'm hoping it is interesting, or at the very least entertaining in some way.

[wemlygust]

wait why are we not crossing Danny Phantom over with Jack Frost (Rise of the Guardians)? Or importing Jack along with Danny into the DC verse. Tbh I don't really care about adding any of the other Rise of the Guardians characters, nor the Christmas themes, but Jack Frost would fit so well as just a random imported character into DP x DC fics. Consider: 1 - they're both cartoon dead kids, even of a similar age.

2 - Jack Frost's "belief creates/grants power to/allows living humans to see spirits" cosmology fits neatly into the ghost zone cosmology (at least for fanon versions, idk enough about canon), especially considering that one kid ghost that adults can't see in DP, and the Guardians all having "centers" that sound a lot like "cores". In this context, Jack Frost is perhaps a cross between a regular dead-human ghost and a neverborn? Like he died under his lake, and when his ghost formed it got all tangled up with the concept of winter/a nascent winter neverborn's formation, with the result that he's sorta the ghost equivalent of an irl human chimera (the result of twins merging together at an early developmental stage, resulting in the final human having different DNA in different cells/body parts but still being a single person). 3 - they'd make for fun friends or maybe frenemies or rivals I think.

4 - they both have ice powers.

5 - they both have a mega big bad enemy with a stupid/blatantly evil name - Pariah Dark and Pitch Black. They're so similar!! Like why not just chuck this third dead kid into the dp x dc mix? We could have, like, a triplets Danny & Damian & Jack Frost situation? Or a "both Danny and Jack Frost independently show up in Gotham at around the same time for different reasons, resulting in lots of confusing rumors and maybe a spider-man pointing meme" situation, maybe with extra "Dr. Freeze is concerned by the sudden influx of teens with ice powers into Gotham" situation. Heck, maybe also throw in the Todoroki family kids (My Hero Academia). Maybe Dabi and his sibs form a brand new Gotham mafia. Or just add the kids with ice powers only, and have an ice powers mega-crossover with all the fandoms featuring ice powered-characters you can think of. Freeze Gotham! I'm losing the thread here but anyway. Jack Frost x DP and/or DP x DC x Jack Frost. I want it.

[mcyt-builds-contest]

The Frost Citadel

Builder : TangoTek

Series : Hermitcraft Season 9

Propaganda : decked out is not only an incredible build on the OUTSIDE, with a great colour scheme and a lot of detail, it's also a hugely important build for the season in general - being the place most people would hang out for the last few months of the server - and importantly a redstone MASTERPIECE. how did this man create literally an entire game with a point buy system and effect cards and randomised threats in minecraft?! like this is vanilla. i think the only mod used was for the disc system and even then he was ready to run that without mods. on so many levels this is such a fantastic build.

Pandora's Vault

Builder : Awesamdude

Series : DSMP

Propaganda : its so big. Its so so big. Look at a map of the dsmp. Its just a black void bigger than l'manburg was. You look at it and you just know it's something terrible. the obsidian walls, lava, the iron. It's just there. In the middle of the ocean. It does not fit in and its scary. the AMOUNT of redstone and functions it go is AMAZING. the only way to enter is through a portal that then leads u to the nether and has to be manually activated again by the warden. So to enter you literally NEED the wardens permission. All the bridges and all the door. It's so fucking cool man what can I say. The amount of security. the lore that happened inside pandora as well. Pandoras arc was the best arc of the whole of dream smp and I stand by that. There is so so much to unpack. Sam and Dream could have just built some shitty obsidian box and called it a prison, but no they made PANDORAS VAULT

Bonus : it's a very big prison and now it's containing the smallest little guy (Bdubs)

Taglist!

@10piecechickenmcnugget @choliosus @biro-slay @betweenlands @xdsvoid

[writingwisterias]

Blood in the Snow

DI!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Blood, gunshots, gunshot wound, near death, storms, angst, Platonic or Romantic relationship

Summary: You should be bitter towards him, he was always bitter to you. but what happens when a mission goes wrong leaving you to care for Leon as a rookie of the DSO, (Set between Vendetta and Death Island but leans closer to Death Island)

Your footprints crunched in the snow as you made your way through the forest, the cold biting through the thermals that covered your skin. The forest was covered in a white mist, one that seemed to darken as the hours passed, evidence of an incoming storm. Your head is wrapped snugly in a grey beanie and a scarf is wrapped tightly around your neck protecting your cheeks from the frozen wind. A stupid item, Leon had grumbled about questioning if it was actually practical when you might have to run throughout the forest. Leon was a few feet ahead of you seemingly unbothered by the weather; you couldn't remember whenever he had put thermals on this morning before you both headed out into the cold. Your cold hands itched to take in some of his warmth whenever it was to slide them up under his jacket or hold his hands, instead, you resulted in blowing your hot breath over your frosted fingers. "Why can't evil scientists make their labs in normal locations for once?" You grumbled from beside him as you finally caught up with him. Leon scoffed his eyes glancing briefly in your direction - the fact that he even acknowledged your joke was a huge step in the development of your relationship.

The DSO had a bunch of new recruits, and their papers were ranked in order of their probability of success and skill. You had the luck of being paired with Leon Kennedy after having similar reports after the Boot camp. Normally anyone would have literally creamed over getting him to be your trainer but not you. His gaze was less than welcoming and his guidance normally resulted in bossy remarks and groans when you would accidentally mess something up. It always felt like 1 step forward and 2 steps back with him.

His anger and hatred against the world and his job made you grow curious, often wondering what had happened to him and why he was so admired but you knew better than to question where he had gained fame around the building. Leon wasn't blind he saw how the recruits had treated you since you were paired together. They snarl and whisper in jealousy as you both walk through the corridors. He pitted you, how out of all the other capable agents they paired you with him, the bitter and sour one. Maybe they thought your enthusiasm for the job would bring him back; make him happy to serve and protect again as if everything he went through didn't matter. He appreciated you never seemed to be bothered by his bitterness, often ignoring the side remarks with an eye roll or a grumble under your breath. He admired how quick and nimble you were, easily avoiding targets and completing the jobs quietly when needed and it was easy to see how you were top of the new recruits.

You cursed as you sank in the snow, your trousers now damp and cold, biting at what little warmth you had left in your body. "Don't you think it's suspicious how quiet it is?" you spoke as your eyes danced around the treeline, your device blinking your location as you approached closer to the target point. "It is," Leon responded bluntly, his eyes scanning the treelines as well. His hand outstretched in front of you holding you back from continuing before he slowly raised a finger to his lips signalling your silence. Your eyes peered into the icy darkness attempting to see what Leon had become concerned about, a storm was rapidly falling over the landscape now the mist was now nearly opaque.

The first gunshot made you jump, the sound bouncing around the treeline after it missed you; the both of you instantly went back to back creating a small circle in the snow as you spun around slowly. An eerie silence fell upon the woods. "I don't like this," Leon muttered as he came to a stop. His back was tense, the muscles tight you could feel it against your own. Your arms ached from holding the gun so tightly, and your eyes became sore from peering into the white snow. The second shot caused you both to run, and the action was made with great difficulty due to the deep snow, using the trenches you had created after wading through the deep snow. The mission was now abandoned, Leon shouting for backup behind you, his voice barely audible with the harsh winds that now whipped at you. The two of you knew that the back wouldn't be able to get to you tonight, the storm making it too difficult for the heli to land meaning you had to make it to the safe house cabin hoping the incoming storm provided you both with enough cover to get there.

The final shot was followed with a painful grunt as it finally hit the target, the snow next to you became spattered with red as Leon leant over, his hand gripping his side. "Leon?!" You whisper shouted moving yourself in front of him and pushing him behind you as you checked your backs for any incoming shadows. Your cold hands began prying at his jacket to take a look at the wound. His blood warmed your frozen fingertips, dripping onto the snow below you melting it.

"Get to the safe house" He grunted, his body shaking slightly. Your head snapped up at the sound of footsteps closing in. The two of you were like a doe in the meadow as the hunter's dogs slowly crept into the wounded animal - preparing for the kill. "I'm not leaving you" You replied, your bloodied hands now pulling away to take off the woven scarf and wrap it around his side. "Not so much of a useless item now is it" you joked as you secured it, tucking the loose ends in as you made sure the fabric was giving the wound enough pleasure to limit the blood flow. Leon grumbled under his breath as he felt the warm fabric heat his cold skin. "Remind me to get you a new one rookie" he joked, his eyes finally looking into yours.

He was shocked, he had expected to see your innocence in them, the excitement he always hated that laced throughout your body. But in this moment it was like he was looking into his younger self. You looked like if he were to die right here it would drastically change your outlook on life - just like Ada's disappearance did all those years ago, when her small hand slipped from his. He watched the determination creep into your features as you supported his weight, pulling him into your warmth as you trudged through the snow. In this moment he finally saw his life meant something to someone else, enough for them to put in this effort to get him to safety, so it would be enough for him to suck in a harsh breath and face the onslaught of cold wind that whipped at the two of you. His hands shook as they finally gripped at your waist allowing you to take more of his strength. He ignored the hand gripping at the wound where it was already becoming cracked and frozen from his blood.

The cabin door smacked against the walls as you pushed it open, Leon collapsing on the ground with a loud groan as he struggled to push himself up. "stop you idiot, that's how you hurt yourself more" you said as you fought against the wind to shut the door. You collapsed against it with a huff, taking a moment to regain your breath. "This doesn't feel great" Leon whimpered as he laid back on the floor, his skin was pale and clammy, his body now trying to fight away a growing fever and the blood loss. "you were shot Leon, that doesn't normally feel good" You replied bluntly as you knelt beside him, your cold fingers providing both relief and discomfort as you pried away the bloodied scarf. He tried to fight it for you, the growing exhaustion that began to take over him. But just like most things he thought he did, he failed as the injury succumbed him to sleep.

He awoke hours later to being warm, blankets thrown across him, the fire close enough to lick at his skin if he moved slightly. Leaning up against the brick of the fireplace his eyes landed on you. Your hair was ruffled and out of place, and your sleeve was splattered with blood as you stared into the dancing flames. Leon's eyes fell onto the medical supplies littered around the floor the sterile packaging pilling up in the corner. When he looked back at you again he was shocked to find you staring back. His heart beat faster as he watched a single tear leak from your eye. You looked so small like this, your hands wrapped around your knees holding everything in as if you were to move everything would come out. "You almost died asshole" You spoke, your voice cracking as the words came out. "You almost died and I-I didn't know what to do...fucking prick"

He deserved the words you spat at him, the insults and anger you had clearly built up over the past few months from being assigned to him. But he didn't deserve the care in them, the concern and tears that spilt from your eyes as you looked at him. "I-I'm sorry" he croaked out, his voice rough from the hours he had spent asleep on the hardwood floor. "The bullet didn't go clean through, I had to dig the fragments out. I had to sew you up and my hand wouldn't keep fucking still." You cried, burying your head in the crack of your knees.

Leon stared at you, all the words that formed in his head were lodged in his throat. His eyes filled with his own tears as he looked at your scared form, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire. His grunt caused your head to shoot up and your lips parted to protest his movements but were cut off when his arms wrapped around your frame. Leon's head fell on your shoulder as he pulled you close - holding you. "I'm sorry...for everything, you didn't deserve my burden on the world" He croaked out, his eyes watching your face intently as you took in his words. "You didn't deserve it either Leon"

His body flinched at your words, his arms tightening around you slightly as he took them in. He felt 21 again, desperate for touch and affection after running from a nightmare. Forced to serve an order he didn't believe in for the safety of a girl that ended up doing the thing he wanted to prevent her from doing. He protected everyone he loved constantly but who protected him? Who pushed him behind them instead? You did.

He felt you tighten your hold on him, the warmth of the fire crackling louder as if it were fueled by the moment. "Thank you" he whispered as he pulled away, grunting as he adjusted himself to sit next to you. You leaned into his shoulder, not willing to pull too far away from him just yet. "you owe me a new scarf"

Leon chuckled, his lips pressing against the crown of your head affectionately. His actions mimicked what he wanted someone to do after all the horrors he had faced. His shoulder provided a ground for you to finally rest, exhaustion creeping in. He admired you, more than he secretly already did. The way you didn't give up, helped him and healed him when it was easier to leave him to bleed out on the snow. He lifted his shirt to see the shaky attempt at stitching, the raised skin would leave a scar, but this is one he would look at with love. One that would remind him to keep going just a little bit longer, that there was more than all fighting. The final confirmation he needed to move forward.

[ahqkas]

Mattheo with a s/o who can get easily sick. Like she would have a small cough that soon turns into a blown out flu and it always makes him worried. She tells Mattheo that’s it’s normal for her to get sick and he is just like “..I’m shoving vitamin gummies down your throat”. Just pure overprotective Mattheo trying to help her immune system! 💕

-🧚🏾‍♀️💗

TAKING CARE OF YOU ; mattheo riddle

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE CASTLE WAS CHILLED WITH THE WINTER FROST, the stone walls holding onto the cold and the window were painted with various of pretty ornaments. It was cold, the snow reddening the students’ cheeks wherever they went. Especially your cheeks.

You had started with a small cough, just a tickle in the back of your throat. Within a day, it had escalated into a full blown flu. You were used to it — your immune system had always been weaker than most — but that didn’t mean it was any less miserable.

Huddling in your dormitory, wrapped in layers of warm and cozy blankets, your nose throbbed and your nose ran wildly. The world outside was covered by its own blanket, this one white and gray, making you suffer in the dorm. You could be in the snow if it wasn’t for your stuffy nose. A small, pitiful sneeze escaped you. and you signed, ready to suffer like this for the next week or so.

Mattheo Riddle, your beloved boyfriend, had been keeping a close eye on you since the moment he found out you got ill. His worry was evident on his face with the way his dark eyes lingered more than usually and his brows furrowed, creating frown lines between them. Now, he was sitting on the edge of your bed as he watched you try to drink a cup of hot tea he made the house elves bring you.

“You should have told me it was getting worse,”he muttered, the tone of his voice a mix of irritation and concern.

Offering him a weak smile, you took a sip of the herbal tea, trying not to let out a wince at its taste. It wasn’t really enjoyable but it had the healing effects you desperately needed. “I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, I’m used to it. I always get sick like this.”

The Slytherin’s frown deepened, his expression darkening. “Just because it’s normal for you doesn’t mean it’s okay. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

“I’m not alone,” you pointed out to him, reaching for his hand that rested next to your thigh and gave him a squeeze. “I have you.”

The look of worry on his face softened a little bit as he looked down at your intertwined fingers. “That’s right. And I’m going to make sure you get better. No more of this ‘normal’ nonsense. I’m showing those vitamin gummies you own down your throat if I have to.”

You laughed, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Mattheo’s frown returned before he stood up from the bed, hand reaching towards your nightstand where he knew you kept all the supplies you needed during times like these. He picked up a bottle of vitamin gummies and shook it pointedly in front of your face.

“Open up,” he commanded, already holding out a gummy for you to take.

You rolled your eyes lightly but complied to his demand request, knowing better than to argue with him when he was in worrying mode. He handed you a gummy, making sure you chewed and swallowed it.

“Are you happy now?” you asked, voice muffled by the blanket you had pulled up to your chin as you brought your knees against your chest.

“Not until you’re feeling better. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I hate being like this,” you admitted, sniffing into the warm fabric. “But you’re making it a lot more bearable. Thank you, love.”

He sat back against the edge of the bed, this time closer to you as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Just focus on getting better, okay? I’ll take care of the rest.

For the next few days, Mattheo was relentless in his care. He brought you meals and snacks from the Great Hall, made sure you took your vitamins, and brought you school work you had missed (he started taking notes for you). He checked on you between classes, and when he wasn’t physically with you, he sent you messages through enchanted notes and owls to make sure you were drinking enough fluids and resting.

One evening, after a particularly nasty fit of coughing, you found yourself in tears, frustration and exhaustion taking their toll on you. The Slytherin was there in an instant, pulling you into his arms despite your protests about getting him sick. He couldn’t care less.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he rubbed you back in comforting movements. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, grateful for his warmth and comfort. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I hate being like this.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said, holding you tighter. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

A kiss to your forehead and his gentle humming were enough to lull you into sleep in your boyfriend’s warm embrace.