#true form au

[yakutarts]

Neil and his babies

Neil and his not-quite-babies-anymore

I have a headcanon that Neil wasn’t simply Dream’s friend, but a father figure and role model for both of them. Neil takes care of them because she knew Nim before she “died”, and wants to look after her children.

I’m turning this canon in my True Form Apple Twins AU.

Dreamtale belongs to @ jokublog

True Form AU (concept and designs) belongs to me (@ yakutarts)

[skyward-floored]

You know me… twilight turns 😔

This got me to work on it for a solid half hour thank youuuuu 🥺 I will give you a wip as thanks:

“Well. Guess I owe the little furball,” she admits, and leans on Link’s shoulder. “I could direct my appreciation elsewhere, though. Did I ever thank you for that, by the way?”

“For dragging you to the princess?” Link says with a faint smile, and Midna shakes her head.

“No. For saving my life.”

Link blinks, staring at her, then gives an awkward little shrug.

“Zelda did the saving,” he says, shifting his weight. Is he blushing? Spirits he’s adorable. “All I did was bring you to her.”

“Which in turn saved my life, and also got me back to my true form, which I have never been more grateful for,” Midna argues back, and takes his face in her hands. “Zelda did save my life, and I will forever be grateful to her. But you did too.”

“But—”

Midna rolls her eyes and presses her lips to his, effectively cutting off whatever argument was about to form on them.

[smilesrobotlover]

@skyward-floored the sons!!!!

I tried to make his hair light orange and blond XD dunno how I did, and I tried to make his eyes orange? Idk, but! He’s a cute kiddo! I love theeeeem

[thebreadmantm]

I was talking with a friend. I tried to say mort from Madagascar but I said mort from the Magnus archives. And then this happened

If I had to make it you have to see it

[roadkill-creatures]

[starry-bi-sky]

Out of Context Stuff for a Danyal Al Ghul au i haven't posted - Pit Beast Danyal

Damian, 13: Look, Danyal, -- I am so sorry for everything that happened between us in the League, I hope you can forgive me.

Danny, 10 (allegedly): (has been secretly plotting to murder Damian this whole time, is still gonna do it obvs, but is going to make it significantly less painful now)

Danny: I-- of course, older brother. :]

--------

Bruce: what do you have there, Damian?

Damian:

Danny: (a hulking 10ft pit beast standing beside him, growling idly with ram horns gouging out his eyes and a second set of horns jutting into the air, spines down his back, and a long, spiked tail with an animalistic, skull-like face)

Damian, who smuggled him in (they've made amends): a smoothie, father

----------

Damian: this is my little brother Danyal, i murdered him when he was five. He festered in rage for the last half-a decade, took over a League mountain base in Switzerland, murdered everyone inside and then tried to murder me when I went to investigate with Drake.

Danny: hello!

Damian: we're cool now

----------

Damian: thoughts on resurrection

Danny, (a full ghost): i will succeed in murdering you if you try it

Damian: we'll put a pin in it then

----------

Danny (still instilled with League values): why don't we just murder him??

Damian, on patrol (Danny followed him): we don't murder people, Danyal

Danyal:,,,,are you sick, Dami?? Have you been possessed? Why not!?

(There is raucous laughing through the comms)

----------

Danny, five, pre-death: Dami! :D

Danny, dead, vengeful: Older brother (:

Danny, post-forgiveness: Dami! :]

-------

For some actual context: Danny is fully dead in this au, its a result of the classic DPxDC Demon Twins "death duel" trope but instead of Danny getting revived, he stays fully dead. Danny was five, Damian was seven. His ghost lingered though, and due to the proximity of the pits his ghost steadily absorbed the ambient energy it was letting off. The pits are not corrupted ectoplasm in this au, it's just liquid ecto.

Which means Danny's corruption from an angry and hurt little ghost boy to an unrecognizable monster is from his own doing. It's a result of him stewing in his hurt and anger for years, it physically warped him. He's very powerful. Danny can travel between League Bases but chose a small, out-of-the-way base in the Swiss mountains to fester in and then just. Never Left.

His influence steeped into the very foundations of the building, allowing him to transform and warp the rooms and hallways for his own bidding, Meaning he could turn it into a seemingly unending labyrinth if he so wished to, and block the entrance.

Eventually, blinded (both metaphorically and physically) by his own rage, Danny grew powerful enough to appear physically in the living realm and attacked everyone in the base, slaughtering them all and leaving the base abandoned. He attacks anyone who dares enter -- whether that be other league members, or the unfortunate hiker who stumbled across the base. His conscious is steeped into every nook and cranny of the building, there is nowhere you can hide where he can't find. Nobody leaves without his explicit say so. Nobody ever does.

Him appearing as ten years old before Damian in the skits above is his own physical doing. First it was to prevent Damian from being suspicious of him. Damian initially thought Danny was revived with the pits, he was too busy with his own training afterwards to notice that Danny never showed up again, and when he did notice, he assumed it was because Danny was too ashamed of his loss to face him. He'd always forget to ask about him.

Then it becomes a personal choice to appear as ten. It's how old he would've been had he been alive.

danny forgiving Damian is kinda for an offshoot branch of the main au. Whereas the main au takes the form of a ps4 first person horror game where Damian and Tim are investigating the Base for Plot Reasons. There's no sign of the rumored "monster" living inside until the end, where Danny, who was found inside the Base and has been happily "helping" them look around, manages to persuade Damian into splitting off from Tim in order to "show him something."

This something turns out to be Danny revealing that he never really forgave Damian for that fight, and he reveals through a horrifying transformation, that he was the monster the whole time. Which the game subtly hints at throughout as Danny's strange behavior becomes harder to ignore.

First from his insistence to only refer to Damian as "older brother" (when before the duel he always called him Damian or Dami), to him right off the bat denying the existence of a monster when questioned. ("There's no monster here, older brother. It's just me.") To other various things, like his knowledge of the outside world not matching up to modern times or things going on with the league outside of the base, or what happened to the other league members.

This whole idea was inspired by the song "Scylla" from Epic the Musical, with Danyal being the voice of Scylla as well as Odysseus, while Damian stands as Eurylochus. The instrumentals after Scylla says "hello" is him turning into the pit beast, and Scylla's "drown in your sorrow and fears" part is danny, as the pit beast, snarling at Damian while he attacks him.

There's a Good Ending, a Bad Ending, and a True Ending. The Bad Ending results in Damian being killed by Danny, it happens when Damian decides not to question or suspect Danny and treats him kindly. The Bad Ending is a cutscene, where Danny kills Damian quick and painlessly.

Meanwhile the Good Ending is Damian killing Danny. This is a boss fight, and it happens when Damian treats Danny coldly and suspiciously the whole time. Danny as a result, decides to make Damian's death painful as he had planned to, which is why it's a boss fight because it only causes him to double down on his anger.

The True Ending is Damian escapes with Tim. It happens when you treat Danny warmly up until the last minute, where when Danny proposes to Damian that he wants to show him something, Damian goes to talk to Tim and finally, reluctantly agrees that something is off with Danny, and that he'll be careful going in. It starts off with the boss fight until a third through, where it then changes to a cutscene where Tim manages to get the door open and Damian escapes out. It's then a chase scene down a never-ending hallway as the building actively works to keep you trapped inside. But you eventually make it to the exit so long as you avoid all the projectiles and doors.

Remember when I mentioned that Danny only lets people leave when he wants them to? That's where the treating Danny kindly throughout the game comes into play. It causes him to second guess himself and, eventually, reawaken and strengthen the love and admiration he had for Damian prior to his murder. It's why in the Bad Ending he kills Damian quickly -- because by then, he loves him enough that he doesn't want him to suffer, but is still so consumed by his rage and need for vengeance that he kills him anyways. That quiet part is what allows Damian (and Tim) to find the exit, because some part of Danny still loves Damian enough that he wants him to live.

The True Ending ends with a cutscene of Damian and Tim tumbling out into the snow/grass outside of the base. Damian looks up back to the entrance to see Danny standing there. But rather than a ten year old boy, there's a little five year old Danyal Al Ghul instead. He stares at Damian emotionlessly, blood seeping from his chest, staining his clothes, and little, bloody sword in his hands and tearstains on his cheeks, before he turns away and disappears back into the building.

[erineas]

Imagine being the only fae that still believes in him 🥺

Forest God Skull belongs to @llamagoddessofficial

Forest God Skull design made by @desktopdinosaur

[corviiids]

i found a bad post i made months ago in the privacy of my own home and now i need to air it out in public because it's getting mildewy and moths are eating it

[raspberryvv]

I like to think about Sukuna, who's been rejected by his own parents, holding his baby for the very first time, and it's an exact carbon copy of him, and he's afraid that his wife would reject the baby the same way his parents rejected him, but instead she holds the baby so tenderly and looks at them with so much love and adoration it genuinely moves Sukuna sm LIKE DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE THE VISION?????????? PLEASE SEE WHAT I MEAN‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥

Could go for my viking Sukuna au too

[edorazzi]

Page 25 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Felix is offered a downright horrifying solution to get rid of his Miraculous early, and Plagg explains the rules behind the magical bond! 📜💋

Index | Start | Prev | Next

Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon (with three brand new pages tonight, totaling 30!), and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

[thereisbeautyinflight]

Simulacrums of Luck Day 6: Relevation

@sillysiluriforme

Creation’s chosen

Ascends beyond her own fate

That poor mortal girl

[yakutarts]

My first commission of the entire fucking year.

Explanation why this has the Undertale tag under the cut ⬇️

This is a Discord commission for Reef, thank you so much for commissioning me, it truly means a lot and it has been a really long time since I drew for someone else. ♥️

Wtf this has to do with Undertale? This is a dragonized version of the client’s OC, Pearl. She’s a ship child of Dream and Blue, for further context, see this post. Basically his OC if she was a “dragon” like Dream and Nightmare (Dragon is between “” cuz they are not actual dragons, because that wasn’t what I intended while creating the designs, it isn’t a “them but dragons AU”, but a “Them if they didn’t had skeleton vessels AU”. But I will continue use the term because it stuck and it’s the most simple way to describe them.)

BOY do I have things to yap about this. It’s been SO LONG since my last client (August 2023), and I was actually a little nervous, worried that it might not look good but it turned out quite amazing! There is no better motivator like money! /hj

The top 3 hardest parts of making this was figuring out how to place the neck and back plates and how they are going to overlap each other, the neck angle and how it bends was not helping at all lol, had to revise it 3 times to make sure it was right. Tried to make them pearl shaped while having some resemblance to Dream’s plate design since that’s his child and all.

Second hardest part was the coloring, since this is a custom design and my reference was a skeleton, I had to cook some shit up. I spent some hot time wandering how I should color this without making it look boring, this is a flat body comm so I had to figure out how to make it look interesting without shading everything so it wouldn’t look bland. Coloring with watercolor made it easier, more textured. Decided to pick a gradient between green and blue, in the beginning it kinda felt like I was coloring a beach. The underbelly was actually gold before it got changed to pale yellow, the star pattern, white freckles and the darker color in the plates is what made it stand out the most.

The last hardest part of this was resisting the urge to shade it, cuz damn I really wanted to.

But well, that’s pretty much it! I hope to get more clients with more frequency, instead of 1 every six months or I this case 1 per year 💀.

Honestly I have been really happy with everything so far, I really like the UTMV community and I get fuzzy feelings at the thought that somebody liked my “true form apple twins” AU so much that they diced to commission me a piece based on that idea. It really means everything to me after the things I have been through (dw about it).

ALSO ALSO! Since this is a Dreamberry ship child, during the whole commission, start to finish, I could only think about this /j :

Yes I made this yes I hyper focused on making this right after I finished the main drawing no I’m not normal.

Pearl belongs to Reef

Dreamtale belongs to @ Jokublog

Ink!sans belongs to @ Myebi / @ Comyet

Swap!sans created by PopcornPrince / now Community Owned

True Form AU / Designs belong to me ( @ yakutarts)

[skyward-floored]

Okay let's go my curiosity is strong:

If you need an explanation on any of these, feel free to ask! I think I know what's going to win, but I'm still curious anyway lol

[vezpr]

corporal: ch 1 - punishment

SUKUNAxF!READER ☽☾ HEIAN ERA AU ☽☾ ONGOING SERIES ☽☾ AO3

☽☾𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬:CH1: PUNISHMENT ▪︎ CH2: EXPECTATIONS ▪︎ CH3: DENIAL

☽☾ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You are such a menace that your father decides to offer your eternal servitude as a gift to the King of Curses.

Sukuna has not accepted such a tribute in years, more often opting to eat the young girls rather than put them to work, which is perfectly acceptable as far as your asshole dad is concerned.

Will the demon make an exception for you?

☽☾ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+MINORS DNI, blood and gore, violence, abuse, true form sukuna, eventual smut (not yet),I suck at tags

☽☾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: CH: 4.2k TOTAL: 7.7k

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment something to that effect. But please put an age in your bio so i don't have to block you. Thanks for reading. 🖤

As a little girl, you were inseperable from your sister, Emika. You spent countless afternoons giggling and dashing between the trees in the wood surrounding your home. The same wood you are now running through as your life depends on it.

Even as stitches crawl, burning, into your ribs, you picture Emika's smiling face in the dappled sunlight. When you trip over a root and catch the stony soil with your knees and palms, your mind conjures a memory of practicing katas and swordplay with her in secret, of the many times she put you in the dirt, herself, grinning as she tapped her bamboo sword lightly against your throat. "Dead," she'd giggle. She was so strong.

You bound to your feet and run despite your burning lungs and aching legs. As your pursuer knocks you to the ground, restraining you with a strong pair of arms, you recall the time you walked into your favorite clearing and found her kissing one of the servant girls. Later, she had shared her secret with you, only you. 

As the guards drag you kicking and screaming back to your family home you recall how vacant her eyes had become when the servant girl was sent away. The way her lips no longer smiled when she was given to a man twice her age, a cruel man who kept her pregnant and did not love her. You would die rather than accept such a fate for yourself. You would be the warrior Emika had dreamt of being. 

As calloused hands throw you into the closet used to confine you when you were had misbehaved especially severely, you pictured how Emika had looked at you on her wedding day, a tight smile under eyes shiny with unshed tears. As you scream through split, swollen lips and pound your fists bloody on the heavy wooden door, you pictured her nodding and mouthing a silent goodbye to you. 

When you finally slump against the door and succumb to a darkness so complete that closing your eyes makes no difference, you hiss her name into the silence. Damn her. Why didn't she fight it? All that strength, for what?

Twenty now, you are half a dozen years older than she was when she was married. You are known for your wild behavior which has discouraged many requests for your hand, despite your clan being rather powerful. Your life was not pleasant, as a result.

You had been flogged and thrown into the dark more times than you could count. Your mother does not even come to sit on the other side of the door and tearfully beg you to change your ways anymore. You are utterly alone, and you suffer. But at least you have a modicum of freedom. At least this suffering is your choice.

"So you're back, father," you spit, blinking at the light that filters around his still armored silhouette. Fresh from one battle, into another. You do not give him the satisfaction of crying out when he yanks you out of the closet by your filthy hair. After all the pain you have suffered at the hands of this man and his lackeys, you hardly feel it anyway. 

"Yes, daughter," he spits the word out like he can't stand the taste of it. "And I will finally be rid of you for good."

"Finally grown the balls to kill me?" You sneer as one of his underlings closes manacles around your wrists. You lean away as the back of his hand flies toward your face, angering him further when his strike fails to land. He does not miss a second time. You grin at him with bloody teeth. 

"Worse," he answers. "You are to be given to the shrine." He smiles back at you when your grin falters, your heart skipping a beat. You know exactly what he means. You are to be offered to Ryoumen Sukuna, the king of curses. You have never seen him yourself, but his monstrous appearance and even more monstrous appetites are well known throughout the region. 

You can remember looking out of your window one night as a child, seeing the orange tinge to the horizon in the distance, the faint smell of smoke. "It's the King of Curses, raiding," Emika had explained, as she stroked your hair. Goosebumps raised on your skin as she described the four-armed cannibal warlord, a powerful weilder of cursed energy. The strongest force known to the country. "Don't worry, he won't come here," she had soothed. "Father has ways of keeping him placated."

Your dismay is only momentary, however, as you realize the irony of your father presenting you as a gift: dirty, broken and wild as a rabid dog. You laugh softly. "Perhaps he will kill you for your trouble," you sneer.

Your father looks you up and down before averting his eyes and scoffing in disgust. "Vile as you are, I'm sure you taste the same as any other girl, and that's the only use that savage has for such gifts," he responds. "Have her cleaned and dressed" he says over his shoulder, already marching away from you. 

It takes two men to hold you down while a servant girl is brought in to wash you. Her soft, dark eyes remind you of Emika. They are filled with fear when she looks at you. You do not give her any trouble, not even when she removes the muzzle from your face to clean it with a warm cloth. You slide your eyes to the gaurd whose fingers you had wounded before he was able to get the thing on your face, glaring at him threateningly.

The woman's hands are gentle, especially around your wounded lips, and the cleansing soothes your broken skin. "Thank you," you murmur to her as she pours warm water over your matted hair, combing it out as she washes it. She says nothing, but looks at you with pity, now. You had preferred the fear. 

On the journey to the shrine, you manage to ruin most of her work, throwing yourself repeatedly into the mud. At one point, you even manage to escape, despite being shackled, and forced the guards to chase you through the woods for over an hour. As a result, you are late to court, but your father drags you through the doors, anyway, dripping from an impromptu "bath" he had given you in the river. 

Standing on your tip-toes, you peer over the heads of the crowd. Your heart rate picks up a notch when you spot the monster lounging on a throne piled with skulls and bones at the head of the room. His enormous frame is draped over the chair, his cheek resting on his fist, as he looks down on one of his subjects. The squat old man is currently groveling next to a pool of blood at the foot of the steps that lead up to the throne. Presumably, his predecessor had not fared well.

Tattoos adorn the King's forehead and chin, tracing the sharp angle of his jaw, as well. A pair of piercing red eyes are set into each side of his face, although one set sit inside a rough-textured mask of some sort. The halo of soft, pink curls on top of his head looks strikingly out of place. His white kimono edged in dark blue hangs open over his chest, more black ribbons of tattoos frame his exposed pectorals. An additional pair of arms sit relaxed in his lap, the wrists of all four appendages are circled by more tattoos, like bracelets. 

Suddenly all four of his eyes snap up and he scans the crowd, until he sets his sights on you. You sink back onto your heels, heart in your throat, hoping, for once, that you have vanished into a sea of men. You are beginning to think that the eye-contact was just your imagination, when a booming voice calls out your father by name, asking him to approach. 

"Hold her," your father hisses at his guards, who are, in fact, already holding on tight to your manacled arms. You are grateful for the muzzle, for the first time, hiding your fear behind it. The old man that had been stuttering at the King's feet scurries back into the crowd as your father approaches. 

Sukuna glares down at him in silence for several very long and uncomfortable moments before he finally asks, "Brought your brat here, have you?" 

"I have, your-"

"Is it true," he cuts your father off, examining a long, black fingernail as he speaks, "that she disarmed one of your generals and managed to wound several men with his katana before she was stopped." 

"Regrettably-"

The monster cuts him off again with a low chuckle. "Bring her," he says.

Your legs feel like lead as the guards drag you foward, the crowd parting in front of you, many eyes casting curious looks in your direction. All four of Sukuna's eyes bore into you as you approach. You can't seem to tear your gaze away from his, though it is more out of paralyzing fear than defiance, for once. You wonder if he can sense it. Your fear. It has been a long time since you have been afraid like this, accustomed as you are to pain. The guards stop just a few strides behind your father. 

It feels as if all of the air is sucked out of the room as the two of you stare at each other, neither moving. The man seems awfully fond of uncomfortable silences, you think, as he stares at you with the same heavy-lidded, bored expression.

"What is that shit on her face?" He asks without moving a muscle. 

"Told you to take that off," your father hisses at the guards over his shoulder, even as one has already opened his mouth to answer Sukuna.

"A muzzle, Master Sukuna," the man on your left bows slightly, releasing your arm as he answers, "she bites."

Sudden inspiration strikes and you stomp hard on the toes of the man on your right, causing him to release your other arm and then you are running. You feel like you take only a half-dozen strides before a strong hand clamps down on your wrist. You spin, intending to smash your captor's nose in with your head, but you draw back when you are met with the muscled expanse of Sukuna's tattooed chest. "Leaving so soon?" He growls. He is enormous, you realize as you life your eyes to his, glittering garnets. He is smiling and you make a note of his long, sharp canines.

Frozen in place and unable to tear your eyes away from his, you don't even see the back of your father's hand flying towards your face. Your head reels back with the impact, a warm gush of blood colors one side of your vision red as his knuckles split the flesh under your eyebrow. 

Sukuna flicks his wrist almost imperceptibly and then your father is screaming. A fine spray of blood lands at your feet seconds before his severed hand rolls into your line of vision. Sukuna's eyes never leave yours. You don't move when he removes the muzzle and lets it fall to the ground where it lands just out of reach of the twitching fingers of the severed hand.

"Going to bite me?" He asks, his voice so low only you can hear, he leans in, eclipsing your vision, his breath warm against your ear.

You shake your head. You decided when this man removed your father's hand with a simple gesture that no amount of biting or running would prove effective against him. 

"Run if you want," he says, in the same low voice. "But you won't get far. Either they will get you," he says, nodding in your father's direction. "Or I will." He smiles, a cold display of sharp teeth, "and I like hunting."

He releases your wrist and turns to your father who is clutching his gushing arm. "You are aware that I appreciate useful offerings?" He asks.

"Yes, master Sukuna," your father bleats in a broken voice.

"What use do you think I would get out of her," he gestures at you, and you realize what a pathetic mess you must look, streaked with mud and blood and drenched in river water.

"I- well-" your father stammers, face gone pale from blood loss. "Your- your- appetites..."

He scoffs. "Execute your own children..." He says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Uraume!" He calls, addressing a white robed monk, who, you are peripherally aware, had been standing serenely beside the throne throughout the proceedings. "Put her up in the East wing," he commands. "You know the chambers I mean?"

"Yes, Master Sukuna," the monk nods, but you don't miss the arch of her eyebrows above her pale pink eyes. Despite their surprise, Uraume descends the steps and places a hand lightly on your shoulder. You shiver, their touch is intensely cold, but allow them to guide you towards the exit behind the throne.

Before you are out of sight, you turn to look once more at your father. "If you survive the blood loss, I hope you die of infection," you bellow at the top of your lungs. 

Sukuna throws his head back and laughs.

Uraume is silent as they guide you down empty corridors to the chambers specified for you. When they slide back the shoji door and you step in, you are surprised to find a sizeable suite with varnished floors, a large futon stacked with pillows, cushioned chairs and, what really draws your attention, a vanity littered with combs and perfumes.

"Who lives here?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at the feminine items.

"You, now," they answer.

"I mean before."

The monk hesitates, but finally answers with a shrug. "Master Sukuna's... concubines... but not for a long time now." 

"I will not be anyone's concubine!"

Uraume clicks her tongue. "Master Sukuna does what he likes," they shrug. "But, if it comforts you, he has not shown interest in replacing those he... rid himself of."

"What happened to them?"

"I will bring you a basin so that you can wash up. I'm sure you will find some clothes that will fit you in the wardrobe."

"But-" you begin, but they are gone in a white and pink blur of hair and robe.

All that first night you lie awake on the futon, staring at the shoji doors, half expecting the demon to burst through them and make his motivation for keeping you known. He never comes, although in the wee hours of the morning you hear soft thuds and low growling from the wall at your back. You wonder if the monster's chambers share a wall with yours, and shudder to think what he might be doing to make all that noise. 

After a few restless nights, you are eventually able to sleep. Although you are fairly certain that he is the source of the noises you are hearing at night, they almost comfort you at this point, as they mean that he is in his quarters, not thinking of bothering you.

Weeks go by and you barely see him, except in passing, and even then, he only addresses Uraume or other staff, never you, directly. It is as if you are invisible to him. Except for one instance in particular, you saw him entering through the West gate. Evidently, he was back from raiding and pillaging, as he was covered in blood and soot, wearing only a tattered hakama, hanging low on his hips. When he turned and saw you staring, he flashed a manic grin that had you spinning on your heel and hurrying in the opposite direction. You could hear him laughing behind you, and shuddered at the sound. 

Most days, Uraume would collect you in the morning and assign you some task or another. Cleaning and food prep, mostly. Apparently, Sukuna enjoyed eating large quantities of a variety of foods, not only human flesh. Thankfully, Uraume was the only one entrusted with preparing fare of that kind.  Other than that, you were free to explore the estate and no one seemed to bother you or ask what you were doing. 

You often ate in the kitchen with the other servants, and it was from one of these that you learned what happened to Sukuna's former harem. 

"Ate 'em, he did," Baba, croaked. She was a bent and wrinkled old woman who appeared to be at least a hundred and fifty years old. Her watery, cataracted eyes gleamed over her sunken cheeks as her toothless mouth sputtered out the story. "Got bored of fucking em, sure enough! Or fed up with them treatin' him too familiar, one! One tried running away but he caught her quick as anything and that's the truth! What a mess that was! Thought I'd never get up all that bl-"

"Baba!" Uraume scolded as they walked out of the back holding Sukana's tray. You tried not to look at the contents, or even think about them, as you poked at your salmon with your chopsticks.

"Well! It's the truth, it is!' The old woman screeches, spittle flying as she throws up her hands. "It is," she insists, leaning towards you and fixing her milky eyes on yours. 

Normally, you would smile at the old woman's theatrics, but you find yourself frowning at your food, instead. You recall that first day, how Sukuna had said that he likes useful things. How are you useful to him? You doubt he is even peripherally aware of what little work you do here, and, even if he was, anyone could do it. Why had he specifically put you in a room so close to his own, a lavish one at that, nicer than anything you had ever had at home?

You look up from your plate and down the table at the other servants. The few that are looking at you drop their eyes. Come to think of it, Baba and Uraume are the only ones who talk to you. Everyone else avoids you like the plague. Why is that?  You stand suddenly, knocking the table with your hips, causing dishes to clatter. Everyone is looking now. You hurry to clear your place and rush out into the bright daylight, no longer able to tolerate being confined indoors with your thoughts or with all those eyes on you. I have got too comfortable, you think to yourself.

Eventually, as you pace around the estate, you calm, although your eyes seek out the exit gates more than usual. The space is beautiful, with sprawling courtyards filled fruit trees, vegetable gardens, even a koi pond and a little stream that empties into a hot spring on the outskirts. Carrying your sandals, you walk along the edge of the whispering water. You smile to yourself as you watch the clear water rushing over the pebbled streambed.

Might as well enjoy all this while I can, you are thinking to yourself, when you hear movement ahead of you. Although you are somewhat concealed behind a stand of trees, you are only yards away from the hotspring. You hadn't realized that you had waljed so far. Sukuna stands at the edge of it, having just let his kimono slide off of his shoulders. Rooted to the spot, your eyes trace the lines of his tattoos, then the dips of his sculpted abdominals until they reach an odd line just below his navel. A scar, perhaps? You swallow thickly, finding your mouth suddenly dry. 

Your eyes are still focused on the odd slit on his belly- you could have sworn you saw it move- when his hands drop to loosen his hakama. As heat crawls unwanted into your cheeks and the tops of your ears, you avert your eyes and turn to go. Your heart was already threatening to hammer it's way out of your rib cage when he calls out, "Come here, girl." 

Could be talking to anyone, you reason as you will your limbs to obey you and continue your retreat.  A couple of splashes and then you hear him call out your name, louder than before. You are shocked that he even remembers it. Slowly, your movements dreamlike, you turn and make your way toward him. Holding your chin high and hoping you exude a confidence that you do not feel, you move to the edge of the hotspring opposite to where he is now half-submerged in the steaming water. "You called me?" You ask, bowing stiff and shallow.

"Closer," he nods, but doesn't otherwise bother to move. His upper arms are draped along the edge of the hotspring, his lower ones, concealed beneath the water.

Hesitantly, you move closer, but still  just out of reach of his splayed fingers. He looks, first, at your bare ankles, then, his spider-eyed gaze lingers along the length of your body until your eyes meet. The silence twists knots in your gut, and, although you do your best not to squirm, you feel as if every drop of blood in your body is rushing to your face. He is smirking. He is young, you realize, looking down at his unlined face. Striking, you are unable to stop yourself from thinking of his tattooed features, his extra eyes.

"Do you need something?" You ask, thinking better of the 'What do you want,' you typically have on queue for unloved authority figures. 

"Do you? Or are you content to spy on me from the shadows?" 

"I wasn't-" you begin, scowling. "Actually," you change direction, crossing your arms. "I do want something. I want to know why you keep me here... and why in that room?"

His smirk widens until it is almost a smile. A sinister expression, nonetheless.

"Do you want to go home?"

"I-" you sputter. No you don't want to go home, but you don't necessarily want to admit that, either. 

"I think what you mean to say is: thank you, Master Sukuna, hm?" He says as your mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Does that answer your question, or would you like me to think more about what to do with you?"

While you spoke he had inched closer to you and now you feel the warm slide of his fingers on the back of your calf. You look down at his extended arm, the tattooed wrist disappearing under the hem of your kimono, as you stomach does a series of somersaults.

When your legs finally decide to obey you you turn and speedwalk stiffly back towards the East wing of the shrine. You expect to be called back or struck down at any moment, but Sukuna only laughs at your retreat. 

Thst night, ypu decide you will leave. You manage to gather some food from the kitchen and other supplies without attracting attention. Now all there is to do is wait until you hear the demon thudding around and growling through the wall. Then, you will know that it's safe.  

What is he doing in there anyway, you think to yourself as you pace back and forth across the suite, stopping now and then to actually press your ear against the wall. Growling like that... the image of his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his hakama rises, unbidden, to your mind. You shake your head as if that will clear it. "Stop it," you hiss to yourself, absolutely hating the way your stomach twists and flutters at the thought. 

Hours pass. It is much later than it usually is when you hear him on the other side of the wall. You press your ear hard against the wall and strain to hear, but the only sound is the pumping of your own heart.

You sigh raggedly.

Maybe he's sleeping.

Maybe he's traveling, doing whatever monsters do. 

"Fuck it," you mutter, grabbing the bag full of supplies and slinging it over your shoulder. The shoji door is blessedly quiet as you slide it open. The hallway is dark, empty, silent. You breath a sigh of relief and close your eyes, centering yourself, gathering your courage. Maybe he won't even care that you're gone. Maybe he won't even notice. The thought comforts you and you draw on it for confidence as you take the first step out into the corridor. 

"Going somewhere?"

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. It is a miracle that you don't cry out. You turn slowly, as you would in a nightmare, to see him leaning against the wall bare inches away from your door. You are surprised you didn't hear him breathing, as close as he is.

"For a walk," you answer evenly. 

"With luggage?" He asks, nodding at the bag slung over your shoulder. His eyes and teeth glint in the dim light. He's smiling. This is entertaining for him, it seems.

He chuckles when you say nothing and steps toward you. "Go on, then," he says. "I'll give you a generous headstart... Although," he reaches out and plucks the heavy bag off of your shoulder as if it were nothing, "I suggest you travel light."

There is only one response to that.  

You run. 

[blackkatdraws2]

Whenever Stanley closes his eyes, he can feel the older man's aura surrounding him. [Blank Scripts AU]

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."