#who use their pelts to transform

[brokenhardies]

neverafter ocs reading list

The Story of the Three Bears - Southey

Goldilocks and the Three Bears - Steel

Bearskin - Grimm

The Raven - Grimm

The Story of King Frost - Lang

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[kokoch4n3l]

˗ˏˋ art deco ࿐ྂ "you're not mean, you're just born to be seen"

summary: kokonoi hajime unwillingly has front-row seats to sano "mikey" manjiro's descent into darkness and now he unknowingly watches the start of a new obsession with something a lot prettier that owns one too many mini skirts

pairing(s): kanto!mikey x f!reader

notes: told through koko's eyes and the beginning of yandere!mikey and pre-bonten. heart divider by cafekitsune

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of weapons, mentions of murder, implied mental health issues, slight bimbo!reader, suggestive themes, mentioned voyeurism, obsession, future yandere(?), not edited we die like my potential

word count: 1690

Sano “Mikey” Manjiro was no longer the man he used to be. Perhaps after killing a bunch of people, part of him had gone numb. Or maybe most of him. He doesn’t feel the same way anymore and it’s clear to everyone around him. His black Toman jacket had been long changed to white and he’s got an appointment with a tattoo artist soon. Kokonoi wonders when it will be his turn to get tattooed next. He wonders when the matching jackets will be changed to suits and their flimsy pipes and bats will be replaced with guns. Kokonoi isn’t sure if he’s looking forward to it or not. Many things have changed quickly and so has Mikey. 

Kokonoi Hajime accidentally got front-row seats to Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s plunge into darkness and it’s not something very fun to watch especially since nothing he does can get the latter out of it. It was almost like Mikey wanted to burn. Like he enjoyed it. Kokonoi Hajime glanced up from his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his tired eyes. The rain outside pelted the floor-to-ceiling windows, a rhythmic drumming that filled the otherwise silent penthouse. Mikey stood motionless, staring out into the storm as if it held answers to the questions he never voiced. Kokonoi had grown used to this silence, the heavy, unspoken tension that seemed to hang over them like a dark cloud. “Mikey— Oh hi Koko!”

Maybe the only thing stopping Mikey from fully going crazy was you and your damn mini-skirt. You twirl into the room with that infectious energy of yours, your sneakers tapping against the marble floor. The rain pattering against the windows is almost drowned out by your cheerful presence. You greet Kokonoi with a bright smile, your eyes sparkling with a naivety that seems out of place in the world of the Kanto Manji Gang— in Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s world. “Hi Koko!” you repeat, a playful lilt in your voice

Kokonoi can’t help but crack a small smile at your enthusiasm, the glitter in the inner corners of your eyes shining under the artificial light. You always manage to bring a bit of light into these dark times, even if you don’t fully understand the shadows lurking around you. Mikey, however, doesn’t move. His gaze remains fixed on the storm outside, his reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. Kokonoi watches him, the unease gnawing at him. Mikey's transformation from the once lively, mischievous leader of Tokyo Manji Gang to this silent, brooding figure of Kanto Manji Gang is unsettling. You flounce over to Mikey, your hips swaying with each step. You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek against his back. “Mikey, come on. You promised we’d watch a movie tonight” you whine, trying to coax him away from the window, glossy lips shifting into a pout

Mikey finally shifts, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your touch. He turns around, and for a moment, Kokonoi catches a glimpse of the old Mikey in the way his dark eyes soften when he looks at you. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” he says, his voice a low rumble.

Honestly speaking, in Kokonoi’s opinion, you were kind of a bimbo— in some sense that is. You were top of your class with the goal of getting into law school but here you were in a damn mini skirt, your bruised knees knocking against Sano Manjiro who is a literal fucking criminal. Maybe you have one of those weird fantasies of representing your criminal boyfriend in court. The problem with that though is you and Manjiro weren’t together. You were just a pretty distraction, someone who brought a flicker of life into Mikey’s darkened world, a role you played with such unknowing perfection that even Kokonoi found it admirable. The darkness that enveloped Mikey was thick, suffocating, but you… you seemed to be the only one who could penetrate it, if only slightly with your stupid mini skirt that hugged your hips and thighs so well. “Not feeling it?” You ask him innocently, the tips of your white sneakers knocking against his boots

Maybe you were a little stupid but other than academic smarts, you were emotionally smart too. You didn’t realize just who you were hanging around and what the penthouse you waltzed into was but you knew when Sano “Mikey” Manjiro wasn’t feeling well. Kokonoi admires that because he as well as the other top members of Kanto Manji Gang were yet to figure out Mikey’s emotions. “Not really” Mikey says, his fingers curl around your hip in an almost possessive manner, pulling you closer to him. 

Kokonoi watches the exchange, feeling a pang of jealousy mixed with something he can't quite place. Maybe it's envy at your ability to reach Mikey in a way he can't, or perhaps it's frustration at Mikey's apparent detachment from everyone else. Kokonoi watches you wrap your arms around Mikey’s neck. The contrast between Mikey’s brooding presence and your bubbly aura is almost comical, like a scene from a twisted romantic comedy. Kokonoi can’t help but shake his head at the irony of it all. “What’s wrong, Mikey?” you ask softly, your voice laced with genuine worry.

Mikey’s gaze softens as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Kokonoi watches the exchange, feeling a twinge of envy mixed with a hint of admiration. Despite everything, Mikey still had the ability to care for someone, even if it was in his own twisted way. You pout slightly, not satisfied with his vague answer. “But I do worry about you, Mikey. You know that,” you insist, your well-manicured fingers intertwining with his bruised fingers.

A small, almost invisible smile tugs at the corners of Mikey’s lips. “I know, babe. And I appreciate it” he says, sincerity ringing in his voice. 

He leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, a silent promise of reassurance. Kokonoi can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the intimacy between you and Mikey. It’s not that he harbours any romantic feelings for Mikey himself, but rather he envies the connection you two share, a connection that seems to elude him in this world of darkness and violence. As you pull away from the kiss, a bright smile graces your lips once more. Your lip gloss is now transferred onto Mikey’s lips and he doesn’t seem to mind as he licks up the artificial taste, his eyes never leaving yours as he does. It was weird though— You and Mikey weren’t dating but you still kissed and cuddled and did other things like normal couples did. Mikey called you sweetheart, babe, baby, doll, angel and any other sweet endearment his tainted mind could think of but you both weren’t dating. You both aren’t dating but Kokonoi knows the bruises on your knees are from when Mikey’s got you on the floor between his legs and the scratches on Mikey’s back are from you being pinned beneath him. “I’ve been a little stressed though. Come help me out?” Mikey says to you, thumb rubbing away some of the lipgloss that smeared onto your chin when he kissed you

Kokonoi can imagine it clearly— you down on your knees on the hardwood floor in front of Mikey, your pretty eyes wide and watery with drool running down your chin and mascara smudged; your stupid mini skirt hiked up around your hips as Mikey made you take it. “Hm, m’kay” You answer a little too innocently for what Mikey was suggesting at

As Mikey guides you to another room in the penthouse, he looks over his shoulder. “Koko, make sure no one disturbs us”

“Got it boss” He answers, trying to sound as apathetic as possible

The lock on the door clicks and Kokonoi is already scrambling to find his headphones. He’s been a victim of getting hard off listening to your breathy moans and helpless whimpers too many times already and he’s still got work to do. Kokonoi wasn’t a huge fan of being a voyeur like the rest of the sickos and perverts Mikey let into Kanto Manji Gang after all. He barely gets his headphones in when he hears a breathy groan come from the other side of the locked door. He tries to focus on his work, to lose himself in the lines of code scrolling across the screen, but his mind keeps drifting back to the scene unfolding behind the locked door. He can almost picture it—the way you kneel before Mikey, your eyes wide with anticipation, your lips parted in a silent plea. He can hear the soft rustle of fabric as Mikey guides you, his voice low and commanding. It’s a scene that plays out in his mind with disturbing clarity, one that he wishes he could erase but finds himself unable to look away from.

Kokonoi Hajime unwillingly has front-row seats to Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s descent into darkness. But it seems he’s watching an obsession grow as well. 

An obsession that owns too many mini skirts and with a smile as bright as the sun. 

Kokonoi wonders how long it will take for that obsession to grow into something unhealthy and something that starts to hurt you. But even as he wonders, a part of him knows that he’ll be there to witness it all. Because in this world of darkness and violence, there are few constants, and Kokonoi has unwittingly become one of them. So he continues to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he loses himself in the safety of his own little world, a world far removed from the chaos that surrounds him.

As the night wears on and the sounds from the other room grow louder, Kokonoi can’t help but feel a sense of resignation settle over him. Because in the end, he knows that you’re just as trapped as the rest of them, prisoners of their own making in a world where darkness reigns supreme.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Young Azriel (twenty years old) in Windhaven. A deliciously cliche trope that’s always fun to write. You and Az are close friends, and that’s why he trusts you with a certain insecurity. And also why you come up with an interesting solution. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea, though…

Word count: 4.5k.

Warnings: None.

These nights are cold and unforgiving.

The snow began hammering down in silent droves a couple of hours before. A thick layer of it now blankets the ground and paints the Windhaven camp a brutal white that makes you glance at the boots on your feet. Basic, brown boots that will be soaked and frozen by the time you reach your shoddy hovel of a house. You should have left at the sight of the first snowflake that kissed the ground.

But Rhysand’s mother’s cottage is warm and cosy in a way that yours isn’t. It lulls you to sit back rather than sit up, the fire crackling away in the corner and the smell of spilled ale tinging the air, Cassian’s clumsiness, of course. Your friends eyeball each other around the table, and this game of cards has been going on for too long, and you think your eyes might be growing heavy. If you don’t muster the energy to walk home now, you’ll regret it.

“I’m out.” You announce wisely, eyeing the pitiful deal of cards in your hands. You pile them atop of the table, stretching your arms above your head. The game continues around you.

Playing cards with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel is always a little amusing — seeing them transform from boisterous, drunken fools to serious, suspicious competitors. They study each other across the top of their cards as if there are any real takings to be had by the winner — but Rhysand’s mother would have your heads if you actually gambled under her roof, so a pile of plastic buttons it is.

Certainly not an incentive to stay any longer.

You stand from your chair, earning curious looks from your three friends. To them, the night is young, at least while Rhys’s mother isn’t here to berate you about the late hour — two, three o’clock, perhaps — but to you, with an unpleasant journey across the camp still to be completed, the night is very much old and very much over.

“I’m heading home before the weather gets any worse.” You announce, plucking your jacket from the back of your chair. “Enjoy the rest of your game, ladies.”

Cassian snorts and Rhys studies his cards once more, ever the serious player, but it’s Azriel — Azriel, who places his dealt hand face-down on the table and also stands from his seat.

“I’ll walk with you.” He announces. Your other two friends don’t so much as bat an eyelash at the offer, because it’s a regular one, one you’ve heard a thousand times and one you know not to politely protest.

Azriel is your closest friend in this gods-forsaken place. And he will genuinely plunge a dagger into his heart before allowing you to brave your walk home alone.

So, you wait by the door as he shucks his jacket on, sliding warm gloves over his scarred hands. And then you’re opening the door, and a savage flurry of snow is pelting your face like it’s been waiting to attack.

“Fucking hell, close the door.” Cass grouses. “It’s glacial out there.”

As if, as Illyrians, the four of you aren’t used to the brutal temperatures. You roll your eyes at his whining and shove your hands into your pockets, before planting a boot into the thick layer of snow already on the ground. You grimace at how little protection your shoes afford you. Twenty years you’ve lived here. You should know better, be more prepared. Hopefully you can make it home before your feet turn to blocks of ice.

“Goodnight, assholes.” You call over your shoulder, and your friends momentarily break from their poker faces to return the sentiment. “Love you!”, Cassian calls, and “Keep warm!”, Rhysand reminds you, and then Azriel is following you out of the door.

“Cass is definitely losing that game.” The Shadowsinger immediately sidles close to you, his side pressed against yours. It doesn’t do much against the glowering cold, but it’s a comfort.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to hear it across the camp the moment he realises.” You breathe a laugh, curling in on yourself. Not only is the temperature simply unpleasant, but it also causes you pain — any extreme weather seems to make the ruined remains of your clipped wings twinge. You search for a subject to distract yourself from the sensation. “How come you didn’t invite Kaeda tonight?”

The name of Azriel’s recent interest has him angling himself towards you, snowflakes catching in his hair. He raises a dark eyebrow. “We’ve not moved past the casual stage yet. Certainly not enough to subject her to Cassian’s company.”

“Shame. It’d be nice to have another female around.” Rhysand’s cousin, Mor, sometimes comes to visit, and you have a few good female friends around the camp, but in your closest circle, you’re a little outnumbered.

Something that didn’t seem to matter so much when you were all younglings making mischief. But you’re adults now. Things are different. You are different.

Azriel presses his arm into yours. “If things progress, I’ll bring her to meet the three of you.”

That’d be nice, you think. To have another friend, and to see Azriel happy. See him appreciated. He deserves to be appreciated.

“And are they?” You press back. “Progressing?”

It’s then that there’s the slightest shift in his demeanour. Anyone else might not catch it — he’s the Shadowsinger, after all, and damn well guarded and cryptic and good at hiding what he’s thinking, feeling. But you’ve known him since you were mere, little runts, and you know every little mannerism.

Even in the freezing cold, Azriel blushes. Turns coy.

“What?” You urge, trying and failing to read him.

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I want to kiss her.”

“Then why don’t you?

“I want to do it right. I don’t…I don’t want to fuck it up.”

The concern seems like a baseless one. You’re sure Azriel has kissed people before, although he’s always been considerably more reserved than Cassian and Rhys when it comes to females, and you’re not certain how far he’s ever gone. Of all the things you talk about, this isn’t usually one of them. You’re not sure why.

But you’ll help, if possible. You mull over his words as the two of you crunch through thick snow, more and more of it seeping into your useless shoes. The soles of them are worn, and you need a new pair, but you can ill afford it right now. Eventually, the cold starts to get painful, and you stop for a moment, leaning on Az’s arm as you swear quietly.

“There’s no way you’re making it home in those.” He’s totally right, of course. “I told you to get new ones.”

“And I told you, I can’t afford them.” Your toes are numb, now.

“I could fly you straight to your door—”

“Az, you know you can’t.” You sigh; the two of you have had this conversation countless times, because Az takes your safety very seriously indeed. “My father won’t like it.”

It’s not like your father isn’t aware that you’ve been friends with Az and the others since you were youngsters. But as you’ve gotten older, he’s only gotten more paranoid. The last person in the godsdamn universe he would want to think about you having relations with is any of your three closest friends. And if he so much as catches a whiff of them at your door, one of you is sure to pay for it.

Azriel knows you’re right, even if he doesn’t like it. He curses under his breath, and then his arms are snaking around you. “Alright. Hold on to me.”

“What are you…” You cling to him as much as your frozen fingers will allow. He’s always a little warmer than you are, and the feeling is pleasant. As pleasant as his scent is. So naturally, you press closer to him.

“We’ll go to the mead hall.” Azriel explains. “No one will be there now, but the hearths will still be warm. We can spend the night there, and I’ll fly you home in the morning when your father has left for the forge.”

The mead hall is where the Illyrian families across the camp congregate almost nightly to eat their dinner and learn of camp news. It mostly becomes an unpleasant atmosphere, with the males drinking too much and at least one fight certain to break out. You try to attend as little as possible, opting to eat your meals elsewhere, usually in the company of your friends, but your father sometimes insists that you accompany him and drag his drunken ass back home afterwards.

At this time of night, though, the brutes will have been long kicked out and sent home. The cooks will have followed soon after, and the only remaining presence in the long hall is the heat that filled the place. The mere thought of it is a mouthwatering one.

Unsurprisingly, it’s locked, and unsurprisingly, Azriel and his shadows get the door open as if it isn’t. He places you down in the entrance, and you’re immediately heading through to the mammoth dining hall, the warmth breathing out at you and thawing your frozen skin.

Az’s boots thud on the wooden floor after you, leaving little patches of melting snow in his wake. “I’ll get another fire going.”

You hop up onto one of the long wooden tables, first kicking off your sodden shoes and then stuffing your socks into them. You wiggle your toes, trying to generate some warmth into your pinkened feet.

You watch Azriel from across the room. The strands of his dark hair are damp and falling into his eyes, his skin cold-bitten. Sometimes, in moments like these, it stuns you how beautiful your closest friend is. You suppose it’s easy to forget, sometimes, when you’ve known somebody for so long; easy to become desensitised to their beauty. But looking at him like this, you’re sure he must have a whole line of suitors — both female and male — vying for his attention. Even if it’s something he never talks about.

To you, he’s just Az. And you can’t help snorting quietly as he so predictably scoops your shoes and socks up and places them by the fire he has lit.

A mother hen, truly.

“You should start to warm up any second.” He says, traipsing back over to where you’re sat. He slots himself between your legs, and his warmed hands cup your face. “I’m going to buy you a new pair of boots.”

“No you’re not.” You immediately quip, narrowing your eyes up at him. “I’ll buy them when my father chooses to pay me.”

You know it ticks him off — he, like the other adult males, gets a semi-decent wage for his commitment to the Illyrian army, the hours of training he puts in. You, on the other hand, might spend hours — days — helping out in your father’s forge, using the skills you’ve observed from him, and you’ll still only see the flash of a coin on a rare day that he decides he tolerates having a daughter, and that you’re not so bad, after all.

Hence why Azriel can afford a pair of boots, and you can’t. But you’ll not take his money.

So, you change the subject, relaxing into the pleasant sensation of his shadows tickling your skin, warming you. “Why would you fuck it up?”

Azriel’s face turns blank. “What?”

“You said you don’t want to fuck up kissing Kaeda. Why do you think you would?”

He stares back at you for a beat. And then his cheeks darken imperceptibly — nothing to do with the cold.

It surprises you. Az can be coy; shy, even. He’s the quietest of the three males in your circle. A pensive observer, never having much to say but certainly always having much to think about. And you know he has his insecurities, things that bother him, but he’s mostly sure of himself. Knows his power, his strength.

You’re not quite used to him balking from a subject. Becoming flustered by it.

“Has anyone complained about your technique before?” You cock an eyebrow, already knowing that no, they absolutely haven’t. Azriel has very full, kissable lips — something you’ve observed a couple of times before. In a totally platonic way, of course. Totally.

“I didn’t say that,” he lowers his gaze, “I—”

“Just go for it.” You reach up, pinching his flushed cheek between your fingers. “Jump right in and land one on Kaeda. Impress her with your kissing prowess—”

“You,” he tugs your hand away, “are so annoying—”

“The rest will naturally follow when you have your tongue in her mouth. Trust me. And then you’ll be wondering why you were worried in the first place—”

“Except that I’ve never kissed anybody before.”

Immediately, you fall still.

He may as well have shouted the words, from how loudly they seem to echo through the hall.

You stare up at your dear friend, and you blink. Wait for the punchline. Wait for a teasing grin to tug at the corner of his lips — something that very few people other than you get to witness — and for him to tell you that he’s jesting, and of course he’s kissed somebody before, and done a lot more stuff than that, too. All the stuff. Every bit of it. Over and over again—

“Let’s just drop it.” He murmurs, stepping away. You think you might have offended him with your silence, your surprise.

“Wait.” You blink, grasping hold of his arm. “Just…wait.”

He studies you. “Is it that much of a shock?”

Honestly? Yes, yes, it is. Because how did you not know this? You met Azriel when you were both eleven years old. Nine years ago. You faced puberty together and all the awkward things in between. And while you may not sit and discuss the ins and outs of your respective experiences, you simply assumed that his were progressing and evolving just as yours had. Cauldron, Rhys and Cassian stuck their cocks in different males and females every other week. You supposed you’d merely…grouped Azriel in with such things.

But when you think about it — really, truly think about it — Azriel is the only one of the three males who has never introduced another female to the group; no matter how short or fleeting their presence might be. You can’t pluck from your brain a single name he’s ever mentioned besides Kaeda — and that’s a very recent thing.

You’re still waiting a teeny, tiny, little bit for him to say he’s joking. But his cheeks are redder than ever.

“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You repeat, blinking at him.

He purses his lips. “I haven’t.”

“You’ve never pressed your lips to another person’s—”

“I think we’ve established that, Y/N.” He pivots, turning his back on you. “Just forget it.”

“No, wait, fuck, Az, you know I’m shit with words.” You reach for his hand. “Just…how come? Why have you never kissed anybody?”

His hand is tense in yours. You don’t like it. So many times, you’ve held his hand, felt his fingers fold around yours and your palms warm against each other’s. But he holds it limp, now, barely any weight to it. You give it a gentle squeeze.

He pauses. Then squeezes back.

And it’s then that you realise that’s where the problem lies — his hands. Scars.

“Az,” you sigh softly, tugging him closer to you. “Your hands are beautiful. A part of you, your story. Anyone worth knowing — worth kissing — will think the same.”

And gods, you mean the words with every tiny shred of your spirit and soul. There’s no one on the Mother’s green earth that you love more fiercely than the male in front of you. So kind, despite the hatred that’s been shown to him. So gentle, despite the brutality of your environment. He’s wiped your tears and kept you warm and shared his food and given you a place to sleep when your father has made your life particularly difficult. Platonic soulmates exist, and Azriel is yours.

He turns back to you and keeps hold of your hand. And he chews his bottom lip as he says, “I do know that. I know that not everybody is judgemental. But it’s not just the scars.”

You brush your thumb over the back of his palm. “What else is it?”

“I just simply don’t know…how. Fuck, theoretically, of course I know how kissing works. I’ve seen it more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at it. I could be awful, for all I know.”

You highly, highly doubt that to be the case. “You just…practice. Until you know what you like. Until you know your technique.”

Hazel eyes study you curiously. “So…you have, then. Practiced.”

It’s rather strange, but a sudden, random slither of guilt presses down on your shoulders. Silly, because Azriel would never begrudge you your experiences — and you’ve had plenty of them, good and bad.

But in that moment, you want nothing more than to be able to tell him that you, too, have never kissed anybody. That you’ve never touched anybody or lain with anybody. That you’re just as inexperienced and clueless as he is.

But that would be a bare-faced lie. And you and Azriel do not lie to each other.

So perhaps it’s the guilt that causes you to blurt out, “Practice on me.”

Azriel blinks at you. His hand slackens in yours. “What?”

And fuck, you’ve said it now. You’re not sure whether or not you even meant to, but you think it’d be more awkward to retract the words than stand by them and ride them out. You square your shoulders. Try to seem sure, confident.

“Practice kissing with me.”

The poor male is completely dumbfounded. “You’re��my friend.”

“Yes, Azriel. That’s why I’m offering. Practice on me, refine your technique, and then you can apply that confidence to Kaeda.”

“Practice…on you…”

“I’m trying really hard not to be offended by the disgust that’s on your face right now.”

“Shit, no, that’s not—”

“You know what? Forget I said that. Dumb idea. Terrible idea. Forget I even mentioned it.”

Az stares at you. And you don’t want to balk from the eye contact, but you also totally want to throw yourself in the fire, because it would burn less than your embarrassment right now.

And then he says, “Is it a serious offer?”

You lift one shoulder into a shrug. “Why not?”

Oh, there are a million fucking reasons why not. The most pressing being that yours and Azriel’s friendship is, perhaps, the most stable thing in your life. Certainly the most precious and treasured. Rocking that is a very bad idea, indeed.

And you think, for a moment, that that’s precisely what Az is going to tell you. He has that look on his face that he usually gets when you’re about to do something stupid. The one where he chews the inside of his cheek and his eyes rove your face.

But then the word leaves him, quiet and a little breathless, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I accept your offer.”

He—damn. You didn’t think this far; suppose you didn’t expect him to actually agree. And yet here he is, agreeing.

Suddenly, you feel like you’ve never kissed anybody, either.

But you’re supposed to be guiding him here. So you sit up straight. Lift your chin. Azriel watches, eyeing you a little like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. The bewilderment on his face squeezes your heart a bit.

“Do you want to do it now?” You ask.

He swallows. And his eyes fall down to your lips before flicking back to meet yours. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”

And there isn’t. The two of you are here alone, no background noise from Cassian or Rhysand to battle with. It’s just you and Azriel. Your eyes. Your mouths.

You realise you’re still holding his hand, and so you use it to pull him closer to you, slot him back between your legs. You’re certain he’s trembling, and you are, too.

“Just take your time.” You tell him. “Let your body lead. Do what feels natural.”

He gives a stiff nod. And pauses. “And you promise to be honest afterwards? About how it was?”

Your eyes soften. “Always, Az.”

He nods again, and then he’s sucking in a slow, steadying breath. You remain still, allowing him to make the first move, to do whatever he wants.

There’s a pause of heavy silence, and then he dips his head. Kisses you once.

It’s a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Sweet, if not a little stiff and awkward. But you know Azriel is testing the waters, deciding whether he truly wants to do this. If he surmises that he absolutely doesn’t, you’ll stop, say no more about it. You keep still and allow him to decide.

And when he pulls back to study you, you give him a reassuring smile. One that silently communicates, I’m fine, we’re fine, this is fine.

It seems to give him the little boost he needs.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Slowly, he slips his hand out of yours, and you allow him to. You watch as he inches even closer. Moves his hands up to rest at either side of your face.

When he’s cupping your cheeks, his eyes meet yours, and he whispers. “Is this okay?”

You squeeze his forearm once. “It’s fine, Az. Do whatever you feel you want to do. I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything.”

He nods, and his gaze drags down to your lips. You’re still, careful, not moving until he’s ready to. And maybe he’ll not feel ready. Maybe he’ll stop this and pull back and decide it’s a terrible idea—

No.

Azriel’s thumb sweeps over your cheek. And then he leans in and presses his mouth to yours a second time.

This time, it’s different — you can tell straight away.

It starts out slow, his lips exploring yours, moulding to the shape of them. The kiss is a caress on your mouth, and it’s a damn good start. You find yourself leaning into it. Kissing back.

For a split second, you feel Az pause. But then his hand is cupping your cheek firmer, the heat of his palm meeting the heat of your face and making you forget how cold you were only minutes ago. Az’s lips part, and so naturally, yours do the same. You kiss him gladly.

And he’s not bad at all. You’ve kissed far more experienced males with far worse technique. Azriel may be nervous and tentative, but there’s something there, lurking beneath the surface. Something that will grow with the right encouragement, the right amount of confidence.

You…you want to give him both.

But it’s important to remember why you’re doing this. For his sake. So he can comfortably kiss the female he’s interested in.

You part from him momentarily, his breath fanning your lips as you ask him, “Are you doing okay?”

“I am.” There’s a rasp to his voice. “Are you?”

“I’m doing great.”

And you are. The weight of Azriel’s hand on your cheek is surprisingly pleasant. This exploration is new, and it’s thrilling, and it’s nice. It feels…nice.

“Do you want to keep going?” You know what you want to do. “Or would you like to stop? Whatever you want, Az.”

He swallows again. “I want to keep going.”

You nod, and in gentle encouragement, you move your hands to rest at his waist. You must be imagining the slight tremor that wracks through Azriel’s body in that moment. Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence.

There’s no time to think, because he dips his head and catches your lips faster this time. He tilts your head up, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. Your lips part, and so do his.

Az’s tongue seems to tease the seam of your lips. And then he slides it into your mouth.

His taste invades you so suddenly, so thoroughly, that you gasp. It’s something rough and smoky. Rugged and pleasant. You can’t think of the exact words as his tongue meets yours, and nor do you care to. All you want to do is reciprocate. Kiss him.

You scoot forward on the table, lifting yourself up slightly to add a touch more fervour to the kiss. Your tongue rolls around Azriel’s, and it’s so damn good, so damn sinful, so damn unexpected.

You’re aware, somewhat, of Azriel’s hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck. And he licks at the roof of your mouth, and at your tongue, and somehow at every part of you that has you wanting more. His lips work perfectly with yours, not faltering once.

In that moment, you might forget who you are and what your life story is, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget this — this kiss of pure, salacious, unguarded need. If this is what Azriel kisses like for the first time, you can’t imagine how he could possibly progress. How it could get better than this.

One of you makes a needy little noise — you think it might have come from him, but it lands in your mouth, anyway. And then you’re being yanked closer, and your hands are moving up to tangle within Azriel’s hair, and you’re tugging the strands and pulling him against you and kissing him so desperately that you’re sure you’re going to feel it days, weeks, months from now. Azriel’s fingers knead the back of your neck, and your legs snake around his waist, locking him in.

There’s movement. Natural, pleasant movement — you, him, both of you together, moving and shifting.

You don’t know at which point you’re lying back on the table, or which of you made it happen; but suddenly Azriel is hovering over you, his body flush to yours, too-hot parts of you meeting too-hot parts of him.

The kiss is burning, and needy, and you writhe beneath him, and he writhes on top of you, and he’s pressing against you, and you both groan.

And then Az breaks away.

He doesn’t move far — just rips his lips from yours.

You’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath. Azriel blinks down at you, and you blink up at him.

And in that moment, you become aware of just how far this has slipped. He’s basically lying on top of you, his body moving with yours. Your scents have changed and combined, and you both know what the earthier, deeper quality to them means.

That you got a little carried away. And this needs to stop — now.

Azriel stares down at you, panting against your mouth as your heart thunders in your ears.

“Fuck.” Is all he says.

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

[bigification]

Under New Management

The smell of sweat hits hard when I enter the gym. I haven't been in a gym in years, but just the smell is enough to bring me back. There is a jacked Arab dude sitting behind the reception, I just tell him I'm here for an interview and he lets me by.

I felt so out of place here. I'm this skinny white guy walking through a gym filled with built Arab guys. I start to wonder how good my chances are of getting this job. I figured my degree in business and experience managing other businesses would be enough, but now I'm starting to wonder if I'm too much of an outsider.

I tell myself this isn't the time to overthink as I make my way to the office. I have to walk past the locker room to get to the office. I see a white guy getting into the showers, probably one of two non Arab guys I've seen here so far. I also walk past an older Arab guy who seems to be checking himself out in his phone's camera.

I find myself staring a bit too long and the man looks up from his phone, making eye contact with me. I quickly look down and continue walking.

"Are you here for the interview?" The man asks. I stop in my tracks and nervously say yes. I feel the butterflies fill my stomach as I realize he's the manager of the gym. I'm already off to an awful start. "Go ahead son, I'll get dressed and meet you there." The man points to his office down the hall. I just nod and walk away.

A few minutes later, the man walks in wearing a nice black suit and expensive looking jewellery. He sits down at his desk and gets right into the interview. I get more and more confident and the interview goes on. He seems quite nice, if a little intimidating.

"You know..." The man sounds more genuine, "I am getting too old for this job. How do you feel starting right away?" He asks. My heart sinks, I have to think quick. "Of course!" I blurt out.

"Great" he says, "it is tradition in this gym to pass down this watch through management." He takes off his expensive looking silver watch and passes it to me. I hesitate for a moment before grabbing it and sliding onto my wrist. The watch feels good on my skin, the cold of the metal is refreshing. I look at the watch and admire its beauty when I see something changing. My hands are... growing. My hands crack as the bones grow, making my hands wide and my fingers long. My thin fingers thicken as muscle and fat pile into them, and callouses cover my palms. My forearms start to thicken as veins start to surface under my skin. They grow until they burst through the button on my sleeve. I also notice my skin start to darken into a tan colour, resembling that of the man who interviewed me. Thick dark hair starts to sprout on my hands and my forearms, giving them a touch and ragged look. I feel the transformation move up my arm and to my biceps. They grow and grow, making my sleeves tight as skin around them. My shoulders broaden and my chest pumps outward, popping off the top couple buttons on my shirt. My shirt strains further as I grow two massive pecs with a thick pelt of hair covering them. The fat in my stomach melts away, revealing a defined six pack that also gets covered in dark hairs.

I feel my pants tighten as my ass perks up and my thighs thicken. I grab my crotch with my massive hand and feel my dick grow larger and larger until a visible bulge forms in my pants. I feel the scratch of hairs growing all down my legs. Suddenly my feet burst from the dress shoes I was wearing, revealing my massive hairy feet.

Finally I feel my face shifting around. My brow bone becomes more prominent and my nose becomes larger. I feel my face sliming down as a big bushy beard grows on my face. I also feel the hair on my head recede until it's only a short buzz cut.

I sit there for a moment, getting used to my body as memories flood into my head. My childhood in Pakistan, moving to America when I was a young man with my father. He bought this gym, allowing me to workout constantly. And now he is passing the gym onto me.

"I am proud of you son. I'm happy you get to take over the family business." Father says to me.

"Thank you father." I respond in a deep voice with a heavy accent.

I walk out of the interview room, and back through the locker room. As I walk through, however, I see that American man getting out of the shower. I would normally be okay with the occasional American being at the gym, but today I was not feeling as generous. I approach him as he is drying off outside the shower.

"What the hell are yo-" the man tries to say, but he pauses as I forcefully grab his wrist. Suddenly the once skinny man begins to rapidly grow. His biceps became massive, his pecs thickened, and his stomach fat melted away revealing a defined six pack. Every part of his body continued to grow, his ass grew fat and round, his dick doubled in size, now being the thickness of a pop can, and his thighs thickened until they rubbed together. His skin started to darken, going from a pale white to an almost bronze brown colour and thick dark hairs sprouted all over his body. A thick forest of hair quickly covered his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. His thin blonde hair became a wavy jet black buzz cut as his once clean shaven face grew a thick beard.

"Good workout brother." I give him a firm tap on his shoulder and he nods back at me. He is a beast of a man, and a loyal customer at the gym, one of many good men who come here.

[satoshy12]

Kryptonian Danny Ghost Phantom

Danny Fenton's life takes an unexpected turn when he's accidentally exposed to a Kryptonian artifact while in the Ghost Zone. The Kryptonite radiation triggers a transformation in Danny's human DNA, turning him into a half-Kryptonian/Ghost hybrid.

It was Frostbite who told him he wasn't human anymore but an Alien. Danny didn't seem to have much of a problem with it he was already a Halfa; and it was pretty cool to now be an Alien!

But he struggled to control his newfound powers and adjust to them like he did with the ghost powers. He discovers his newfound abilities, including flight, super strength, and heat vision.

But that means that while most of his villains didn't try to attack him, Fenton's body is too strong. Few others worked to be stronger than that, like Skulker. Well, mostly Skulker.

So while in a fight with Skulker with new weapons from Vlad, he crash-lands in Metropolis from the attack in the Ghost Zone.

The new weapon was a poison that would have a retrograde amnesia effect on Danny. Vlad wanted to slowly make Danny forget about everything before he took him in as his own son. Skulker could then have Jack's pelt, and as a ghost hunter, it would show he hunted down a hunter.

+

In Metropolis.

Dressed as Superman, Clark made his way to a place where he heard the crash, and saw a black-haired boy standing up from the crater. He tried to talk to the boy, but he seemed to only speak kryptonian! But not in an accent he knows, which means he just met a Kryptonian boy not related to him or a clone. He would say he is 2 or 3 years younger than Kara.

Danny was confused that his "human" body wouldn't speak English. It seemed like he was more hurt than he thought.

So as Clark tried to talk to him, Danny used his heat vision to hit Skulker behind him. Clark was shocked at first, thinking the boy attacked him, until he noticed he attacked the Being behind them.

And as Skulker ranted then about how he plans to "Hang his pelt on at the foot of his bed, As he is an endangered species!" well, those are the wrong words to say. As Superman got pretty angry, he attacked Skulker, who was pretty shocked that he was able to punch him. It must have been the portal's fault.

Clark was angry at the idea of someone hunting down the Kryptoanian to skin them! He was almost as angry as when he met Darkseid.

As Danny saw how the older hero could fight Skulker and was destroying his suit, he escaped until he could transform back to Phantom or find a way home.

Without the suit, Skulker is pretty weak.

Superman captured the tiny thing and turned his way back to find the boy. But he seems to be gone. Well, he would need Kara's or Karen's help; he didn't fully understand the accent.

+

Danny with white hair was walking down the streets. He would find a place to take a break. And help himself with his memories.

Whatever Skulker injects into him, he starts to forget what he was doing…. Wait, what again was his plan?

[gdn7-dollopole]

Merlin is the embodiment of “I quit.”:

“I should resign… I said I should resign.”

“Do you think I sit around all day doing nothing?! I haven’t had the chance to sit around and doing nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot! I’m too busy running around after Arthur, and when I’m not running around after Arthur, I’m doing chores for you, and when I’m not doing chores for you, I’m fulfilling my destiny. Do you know how many times I saved Arthur’s life? I lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I’ve fought Griffins, witches, bandits; I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while, I have to hide who I really am, because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed! Sometimes, I feel like I’m being pulled in so many directions, I don’t know which way to turn!” (a classic)

“I think it was a bird.” “That? That was definitely… A woman, screaming.” “Why couldn’t it have just been a bird?” “It’s never just… A bird.”

“No, I don’t really fancy it.”

“Yes, and maybe one day you will magically transform into a prince. But since magic is outlawed, that will probably never happen. Come on, let’s go.”

“SOME PEACE AND QUIET!”

“A man who’s alright does not pace, Gaius.”

“Nothing ever good happens in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. No one in their right mind would go there.” *get attacked by bandits* “NOT SO SECRET, AFTER ALL!”

“Maybe we should wait until it’s light.” “Or we could do it now, whatever it is that we’re doing. In the dark, when it’s incredibly scary and dangerous.”

“Not every day a servant gets to write the prince’ speech.” “*leaves*”

“Go ahead, I’m probably going to die anyway.” “Right, so that gives me, what? A one in forty chance of making it?” “So I’m not probably going to die. I’m definitely going to die.”

“Oh, and you… I’ve heard of how you—MISTREAT YOUR SERVANTS! THEY DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU, DO THEY EVER GET ANY THANKS?!”

“Percival! That is a sword, it does hurt!”

“I take it you didn’t come all this way just TO SMASH MY FAVOURITE POT!”

“Say that again!” “WHY?! HAVE YOU GOT ALE IN YOUR EARS?!”

“So… Your step-mother’s a troll.”

“You’re threatening me with a spoon?🤨”

“Yes, it’s almost like having to work😁.”

“I’m enhancing it… For comfort, and ease of use.” “I’m just saying that… The belt is… One hole shy of perfection!”

Give my man a break, or another job💀.

[cryptid-paint]

I've been slowly working on a Loboan Ben au

Basically in this au, Ben gets kidnapped by Zs'Skayr as revenge against Grandpa Max who is biggest enemy throughout Max's plumber's career. Ben is specifically kidnapped with the help of Zs'Skayr personal guard, a Loboan named Lykos whoever once they're back on the Anur System, Lykos can't help but feel sorry for the crying child and decided to "get rid of Ben" (at least that what he tells his boss) by taking him home and adopting him, raising him along his pup, Scout, who is a couple years older than Ben. The kid grows up using Loboan pelts and a headpiece as a disguise to help him blend in better and also serve the purpose of masking his human scent and replace it for a lonoan's scent. However by the time Ben turns 10, a strange meteor falls from the sky, Ben ofc checks it out and the Omnitrix jumps straight to his wrist, the device inmediately starts to slowly transform him into a Loboan to help Ben survive in Luna Lobo, giving him that partial transformation look he had at the start of the Ben wolf episode, however he does need to manually activate the Omnitrix if he wants to have access to a full Loboan transformation.

This is an au I'm still working on, so if you have questions, want to know more about Ben's adoptive parents or if you wanna know anything about the au in general feel free to send me an ask!

[skyclan-funny-name-squad]

Okay wow I was not expecting my kittypet fae post to take off overnight like this, but I'm glad you all like it! I've been thinking about kittypet culture so this is what I think is the reasoning behind the beliefs.

Kittypets are often well groomed and well fed no matter the season, while wild cats are often groomed there's a softness to kittypet pelts that you don't find in wild pelts. Along with pretty accessories that a wild cat would have no clue what they are like bows. As such they start to seem a bit uncanny valley because they look like you but not Quite. Especially because of more purebred cats who have brighter pelts or unusual colors or strange muzzles or weird ears. Which helps spread the thought that kittypets aren't fully cats, but something similar, something different but the same. Firestar as a purebred orange cat is just a lot naturally brighter or vivid then the more muted oranges that appear in the wild, and that scares cats.

Kittypets also like to share with their wild friends, they see their friend skinny and cold and want to bring them inside where they can get food and get warm. So they tend to offer it pretty often, however cats that do this start to get used to the ease of food and warmth of the den and find it harder to stay wild or to stay away from twolegs. Some kittypets may even aid twolegs in trapping their friends for the sake of protecting their friends from the harsh outdoors. Which everyone knows once you've bonded with a twoleg whether you want to or not your transformation into one of them is nearly complete.

Kittypet food is also meant to fill a cat as its been fine-tuned to fit the needs of a cat so even if a cat doesn't think it tastes as good as mouse, it still fills them in ways they may struggle to get with hunting. So cats that risk taking a bit start to go back for more, especially in harder hunting series. Sure sparrow may be a bit tastier but if its a sparrow once a week during leafbare or kittypet food every day, cats are going to be tempted.

With kittypets not being in a war culture and often just chilling beyond mild spats means there's more room for other activities like a lot more gossip and stories, news travels fast between cats because kittypets are horrendous gossips which means if you fuck over a kittypet, every other kittypet is going to hear about it and shame you for it. To clan cats it's shocking because kittypet news travels throughout an entire twolegplace and even beyond it thanks to some kittypets that travel in like trucks and stuff, so it can seem like despite being nowhere near the original kittypet, everyone still magically knows how you messed up. This extends to their friends as well, if you beat up a cat that the kittypets consider a friend over a border dispute all the kittypets are going to be like "hey why'd you do that that was mean" and potentially chase you away.

Now for names is something I think is interesting because kittypets are never really like "my names Mouse but the twolegs call me Mittens" so clearly twoleg names have some priority here for kittypets, while the significance of this can very between whatever you want really, its clearly important. So if you get taken in by a twoleg to heal a wound and the twoleg starts calling you Pants, then suddenly all the kittypets call you by that name. No matter how much you insist your name is Twigpounce, you're Pants now. Plus if you're actively stuck with kittypets, you'll start going by Pants as well. Thus the kittypet's steal your name.

Cats that come back from twolegs always come back changed, from how they talk, to how they walk, to what food they eat, to the things they say. They can still shake off the influence and return to the wild, but they'll always be a bit off, a bit different. Everyone knows Tallstar was pet-touched a long time ago from how he acts, but everyone politely doesn't bring it up.

Avoid kittypets! They're tricksters that look like us but they're liars with their fake mice and fake warmth! Do not trust! They aren't true cats! They're something different! Something more dangerous! Do not be tricked!

Also Longtail still throws down with Rusty because he's an idiot and also probably hoping that this will make the scary fae child leave his clan alone.

[ultram0th]

Froy and Zane were the picturesque It Couple. Two young gay men who were unafraid to be affectionate in public was enough to bring social media into an applause.

The cutesy couple made out in the bedroom one night, getting ready for some sexy time when Froy paused.

He pulled back for a moment in confusion, having slid his hands up his boyfriend's shirt. "Um, Babe?" he asked. "Did you grow out your chest hair?" His fingers ran through a thick pelt of fur that seemingly covered Zane's pecs.

Zane looked back in confusion as well, having been naturally smooth for years. "No...?" he trailed off, looking downward at himself. His voice disappeared in his throat the second he saw the new chest hair curling over his collar. "What the hell?"

The second he looked down, Zane's eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he watched his pecs grow. The mounds seemingly inflated and rounded, the buttons on his shirt popping off as he grew. The hairy muscletits came into view as they burst out of his shirt, being capped with large, nubby nipples.

Not to be outdone, Zane's gut followed suit. His abs disappeared before his stomach grew outwards. His gut steadily inflated until he had a complete hairy muscle gut that protruded far out in front of him.

"Wh-what happened to me?" Zane panicked as his hands ran over his rotund belly. "I'm huge!"

Before Froy could attempt to comfort his larger boyfriend, flinched when he felt his own shirt begin to constrict around him. His jaw dropped when he looked down at himself, watching as his own chest inflated and grew hairy.

The two boyfriends could only watch in shock as they grew larger and much hairier. Their arms grew in size, their biceps packing on much more meat. They had to shift their stance on the bed as their asses inflated and rounded out, their thighs getting bigger too.

As a final touch, the boyfriends felt their faces start to itch as beards sprouted out over their smooth faces. Their baby faces were completely altered as wrinkle lines formed near their eyes and their cheeks even rounded out some more, their necks widening to account for their deeper voices that uttered from their beefier bodies.

"Babe, what happened to us?" Zane cried out in his deeper, baritone-filled voice.

"We look like daddies," Froy muttered as his hands explored his larger and much hairier body. Despite how freaked out his was over his mysterious transformation, the sight of his now older boyfriend with a large set of fuzzy pecs that rested atop a large musclegut turned him on.

"What?" Zane asked when he saw his dady of a boyfriend hungrily staring at him.

"You really make a sexy daddy," Froy playfully growled, reached over and running an admiring hand through his boyfriend's thick chest hair, pausing to thumb a nubby nipple.

Zane bellowed out a low moan and allowed to himself to be felt up by his larger boyfriend, totally succumbing to his new life as a large muscle daddy.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Nightmares and Nonsense

This is based on this post. I came up with that idea during one of my insomnia induced sleepless nights. I want to give special thanks to @anunholyabomination for inspiring me with the sheer hilarity of their comment on that post. So this is for you lmao additional tags: @leilakaro @sheep-from-rad

Belphegor's nights were an exercise in futility and simmering rage. Confined within the attic's gloomy walls, his disdain for humans stewed alongside a relentless boredom. The appearance of the human exchange student only served to ignite his contempt further. Yet, a mischievous part of him, the part that delighted in the subtle arts of manipulation and control, saw an opportunity in this unsuspecting human's arrival.

He discovered their dreaming mind by pure coincidence. While wandering the endless expanse of his own subconscious, a new dreamscape overlapped his, leaving Belphie adrift and puzzled. As a demon deeply acquainted with the nuances of sleep and dreams, he rarely encountered a dreamscape that could surprise him—at least he thought none of them could.

The dream before him was vivid, an intricately woven tapestry of colors and sensations that resonated with an unfamiliar yet undeniably human energy. He moved through it with the ease of a shadow, unseen and unnoticed, until he sensed a shift—a ripple of awareness that prickled at the edges of his consciousness.

Turning towards the source, he realized it was the human, and tried to get closer, intrigued by their control and clarity, and eager to exploit this opportunity. But before he could get any closer, a voice, clear and authoritative, cut through the dream’s fabric.

“Did I give you permission to come here?” The voice was neither hostile nor welcoming, carrying a tone of nonchalant power that Belphie wasn't used to being subjected to.

Startled, Belphie had barely a moment to register the dismissal before he was forcibly ejected from the dreamscape. He woke with a gasp, the abrupt return to his own consciousness leaving him disoriented and a single thought crossed his mind, “What the fuck…”

The encounter, however brief, sparked an obsession in Belphie. Night after night, he tried to re-enter the human's subconscious realm. Each attempt, however, ended more ludicrously than the last. The human didn’t just eject him but began to twist his appearances into increasingly absurd scenarios.

One night, he found himself manifested at the edge of a surreal circus. No sooner had he entered he was transformed—his dignified demonic form altered into that of a clown, complete with oversized shoes and a garish red nose. Before he could react, an imposing figure that his dream-altered mind couldn't recognize appeared, tall, bearded and dressed in top hat and singlet, shoving tacos into his mouth while shouting about something called Reese’s Puffs. In the background, aliens, decked out like gangsters, were busy robbing some place called a Chuck E. Cheese, stuffing their bags with what they loudly declared to be diamonds.

Another attempt saw him materialize in a dream-designed version of the wild west, where he was immediately put on a horse that had a mind of its own. As he struggled to maintain his balance, dream-created characters pelted him with bizarre questions about quantum physics—a subject he had no knowledge of, much less in his sleep. The absurdity peaked when the horse decided to join in the conversation, offering insights in a surprisingly sophisticated British accent.

At some point he was a fearsome pirate aboard a sinking ship, desperately trying to scare MC with threats of walking the plank, only to have the scene dissolve into a bizarre beach party where MC forced him to participate in a limbo contest. The dream characters cheered on, including the tall man from before who inexplicably acted as the DJ, blasting 80s pop hits.

And again, he was a villain in a medieval setting, ready to lay siege to a castle. Just as he began his threatening monologue, the scene shifted, turning him into a court jester reciting Shakespearean insults while juggling tomatoes. MC, dressed as the ruler, laughed from their throne, utterly unfazed by his supposed menace.

The indignity of it was almost too much, and he had withdrawn with a seething anger, masked by a forced calm. Yet, Belphie couldn't help but admire the human's deft control over their dreams. It was an ability he hadn't anticipated, one that both infuriated and intrigued him.

After numerous humiliations, Belphie's approach shifted. Perhaps he could weave himself into their subconscious as a constant, albeit ridiculous, presence. Allowing the human to get used to him would make it easier to manipulate them later, but that meant going along with their little game. He knew there would be no way to hide that he was a demon, but that was just a small change to his growing plan. Gradually, his intrusions became less about domination and more about persistence.

Finally, the human seemed to tire of crafting bizarre punishments. Belphie found himself simply present in the dreams, no longer transformed or tormented. He was just another character in the ever-changing tapestry of the human's dream world. This sudden normalcy felt like a cold truce, and while part of him was relieved, another part—a dark, vengeful slice of his soul—simmered with unresolved anger.

When they eventually met in person, the attic's dusty gloom illuminated by the intrusion of this peculiar human, Belphie’s feelings were a complex web of grudging respect, lingering disdain, and a peculiar curiosity.

“You,” Belphie greeted, his voice cool but laced with an undercurrent of amusement and annoyance. “Quite the dream weaver, aren’t you?”

The human's grin was all too knowing, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “Had to keep things interesting. You demons take yourselves so seriously.”

Belphie scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. “You have no idea what you’re meddling with, human.”

“Maybe,” They conceded with a shrug, their confidence unshaken. “But I think I can handle it. Can you say the same?”

The challenge hung between them, and despite everything, Belphie found himself intrigued. Here was a human, capable of turning nightmares into farce, of standing toe-to-toe with a demon in the battlefield of dreams. As much as he hated to admit it, this might prove more interesting than he’d anticipated.

And, of course, he could find a way to use this to his advantage after all.

[links-in-time]

Fair Weather Fellows

@torpetavantas asked for a fic where Legend and Twilight' hair changes colour, due to their animal forms and cold weather.

This fic allowed me to explore their relationship a little bit more, as they're a pairing I don't see very often. So thanks for the suggestion, I hope you enjoy this little tail.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Any luck?” Legend asked, trying to stop his teeth from chattering as he looked up. 

Twilight gave his head a forlorn shake as he came closer. Snow dusted his black pelt and had started to soak into his hair, which he tried to shake out. 

“None, this blizzard is too thick and after that mess of a battle the others could have spread out anywhere over this mountain,” Twilight sighed, hands on his hips. 

Legend's shoulders dropped and he held his fire rod that bit tighter. At the moment it was their only source of heat among the pine trees providing what little shelter they could. However, Legend could feel it drawing on his magic reserves and they wouldn't be able to rely on it for much longer. 

Twilight stared around at the sheet of white surrounding their little hollow. His keen eyes scanning for any sign of movement or shelter. But he was faced only by a wall of white. Even the mountain peak which had been visible earlier, had completely disappeared. 

“We can't stay here Lege, we need to find some shelter. I can survive the cold for a while, but I'm not sure you're so well equipped,” Twilight indicated Legend's bare legs. 

“If this is a ploy to get me to wear trousers, it's not going to work,” Legend grinned playfully. “But you're right, if we sit out in this storm much longer we'll both be in trouble. Don't suppose you have any idea which era we're in?”

“Not a clue. Those monsters were a mixed bag so no indicators there, we'll just have to hope we stumble across some civilisation at some point.” 

“So we just wander around in the snow hoping to find some shelter? Sounds like a good way to get us killed!” 

Twilight shot Legend an exasperated look as he pulled his fur cloak from his shoulders. He tossed it to Legend, who caught it with fumbling fingers. 

“Don't you need it?” Legend asked, already feeling the second hand warmth radiating from the dark fluff. 

“I've got another one,” Twilight replied with a crooked smile, before a shower of jet crystals surrounded the hero. 

Twilight shook out his coat and the aches of his transformation before padding towards Legend. The wolf gave a soft boof then turned to look over his shoulder. 

“You want me to get on?” Legend asked, uncertain about this arrangement. 

He was still a little uncomfortable about the fact that Wolfie was his brother Twilight. Legend had been less welcoming of Wild's wolf companion than the others in the first place. His borrowed instincts telling him to stay away from large predators. Then after the revelation that Twilight had been the wolf the whole time, Legend was dubious about the dark magic surrounding his crystal. 

Needless to say, Legend didn't find the idea of riding the wolf particularly appealing. However, the thought of trudging through deep snow with bare legs was even less so. With a sigh, Legend threw Twilight's cloak around his shoulders and put away his fire rod. In a few hops he managed to climb up onto the wolf’s back. 

Twilight only waited a moment to make sure Legend had a good enough grip on his fur before he was off. With his heightened senses the mountain came alive with scents and sights invisible to his Hylian eyes. There were deer trails and bear signs, but very few recent tracks. The constant snow having covered them up. 

Legend of course saw none of this. He decided to hold onto Wolfie for dear life and bury his face in Twi's fur. The rocking motion of Twilight's strides was uncomfortable and verging on nauseating. Legend was reminded of the feeling he got when he used the tornado rod, jostled about at something else's whim. He just hoped Twilight would find them some shelter sooner rather than later. 

***

“I think this is a good spot,” Legend shouted over the rushing wind. 

He emerged from the narrow cave to find Wolfie still on guard by the entrance, but he turned his head when Legend approached. 

“We can pack snow around the entrance to make it smaller and stop the wind getting in, but it will do for now to get us out of the elements. Are you going to…?” Legend's question trailed away as Twilight answered it. 

As he turned around, Legend watched the last shadow crystals fading away as Twilight stood up on two legs. 

“Why do you stare like that?” Twi asked. “You have an animal form too, is mine so odd to you?” 

“It's not that, look, don't worry about it. Let's just get inside and get a fire going.” Legend dodged Twilight's question and turned back towards the cave. 

Troubled by his companions' behavior, Twilight followed Legend at a distance, making sure not to crowd the smaller hero in the narrow cave. They quickly set about making a campfire and worked together to block up the entrance to the cave with hard packed snow. 

“My hands are freezing!” Legend shuddered, holding them close over the flickering flames. 

“You want some spare clothes?” Twilight offered. 

“I've got a blanket,” Legend replied stiffly. “We should probably take it in turns to sleep, make sure we aren't found by monsters or wolfos.”

“Agreed. Rock leaf blade to see who goes first?” 

Legend sighed, they often settled small decisions like this with the children's game. 

“Okay, on three, and no best of three like Wind plays it either.” 

“Alright, one, two, three.”

The two boys slapped their fists against their palms in time with the count until Twilight reached three. Legend kept his hand curled into a fist, while Twilight held out two fingers. 

“Rock beats sword, you're taking the first watch,” Legend announced, with a satisfied wiggle. 

“Fine, get some sleep, Lege, I'll wake you in a few hours.”

Legend was more than happy to oblige as he wrapped himself up in his thickest blanket, making sure to tuck in all his limbs. Laid down on his bedroll, as close to the fire as possible, Legend closed his eyes and willed for sleep to claim him quickly. Meanwhile, Twilight gently touched the crystal hanging from his neck and shifted back into wolf form. The now familiar ache and pain of his transformation exacerbated by the frigid cold. Shaking his shaggy fur to fluff himself up, Twilight padded over to the entrance to their little sanctuary and sat down to peer out at the cold world beyond. 

***

It had been mid afternoon when the Chain had been split up. Twilight gave Legend until what he deemed midnight before he decided to wake him for his turn on watch. Wrinkling his nose and letting out a long yawn, Twilight rose and walked back towards the fire. Though his thick fur kept him nice and warm in such conditions, the heat of the fire was extremely welcoming to his extremities. 

Twilight started to focus his thoughts into transforming back into his Hylian form, deciding Legend wouldn't appreciate being woken by a giant wolf in a strange cave. However, when he saw Legend shivering on the ground, he hesitated. 

The slender teen had done his best to wrap himself up snug and tight, but clearly one blanket and a dwindling fire wasn't enough. Legend's teeth chartered and his eyelids flickered every now and then. With his blanket pulled all the way up to his nose his boots stuck out at the other end. Clearly he was uncomfortable and cold, but Twilight wasn't sure what the best thing to do would be. 

He didn't want to wake Legend only for him to have to sit and shiver through the night on watch. The Captain would probably berate them both for not setting a watch, but the Captain wasn't there. Legend was cold and exhausted and Twilight could only do so much. 

Deciding to lend his own body heat to the problem, Twilight curled himself around Legend's back. He just prayed he wouldn't give the vet a heart attack when he woke up. 

***

“Mnn,” Legend moaned, as he drifted back into the realm of consciousness. 

As soon as he realised he was awake however, he decided he wanted to go back to sleep. His body tingled with warmth and comfort, something this adventure had been sorely lacking. The last time he remembered feeling this cosy, he had been sitting beside his fiancé in front of a roaring fire, a cup of his favorite tea warming his hands. 

Right now however, despite his desire to drift back to sleep, Legend was curious to know why he was so warm. And why Twilight had apparently neglected to wake him for his watch. Legend focused his eyes a little better and found the campfire was close to burning itself out. Only a few smoldering coals remained from the branches and sticks he had piled on before going to sleep. 

Alarmed that their heat source was about to go out, Legend rolled free of his blanket and quickly stacked some small sticks on top of the embers to bring the fire back to life. 

“What gives Rancher?! You almost let the fire go out!” Legend began to reprimand his companion, as he turned around. “What the…!” 

Legend fell back onto his hand as Wolfie’s sleeping form met his gaze. The dark creature opened its jaws unnaturally wide as it yawned and clicked its tongue. Twilight looked around bleerily at the sudden exclamation, his eyes quickly finding Legend staring back at him. Though the Vet was alarmingly close to the fire and Twi was concerned he might fall backwards and hurt himself. 

“Woo,” Twilight mewled softly, nodding at the fire then Legend. 

“You nearly scared me half to death!” Legend replied. “Why are you Wolfie?”

In his current form Twilight could understand his brothers well enough, but was unable to speak back to them. After considering for a moment, he shifted, instantly feeling the chill of the cave as his fur disappeared. 

“Sorry Lege, I was going to wake you in the night, but you were so cold I was afraid you might freeze to death if I didn't keep us both warm. I'm sorry I frightened you.”

“You should have woken me up Rancher, I would have been just fine. I've dealt with the cold plenty of times. You don't have to fuss over me like I'm a child.”

“I wasn't fussing, I was just worried,” Twilight insisted, pushing himself to his feet. 

“Well you can save your worry for someone who needs it. I need to go take a leak.” Legend brushed himself off as he stood and walked towards the mouth of the cave. 

Twilight was about to warn Legend that it was still frigid and dangerous outside, but given the Vet’s prickly nature this morning, he decided against it. 

***

“No sign of anyone?” Legend asked, as Twilight squeezed himself back through the cave mouth. 

“None. Wherever we are it's not a well trodden area. There's no sign of the rest of the boys either. Looks like we're stuck up here until the weather clears up,” Twilight sighed, shrugging snow from his shoulders and shaking it from his hair. 

“Hmm, the news just keeps getting better!” Legend scoffed. “You've still got snow in your hair by the way.”

Twilight ran his hands through his hair once more, but he couldn't feel any more snowflakes clinging to his locks. Maybe Legend was just messing with him. After being trapped on the icy mountain for over a week, they were both beginning to get cabin fever. 

“What's for supper?” Twilight asked, pulling off his wet cloak and picking up a blanket instead. 

“I'll give you three guesses!” Legend said in a tired voice, as he poked at the pot over the fire. 

“Mmm, ration stew, my favorite!” Twilight replied in an exaggerated faux excitement. 

Rations had been Warriors’ idea. Each time they were able to stock up on supplies, each of the boys took enough to last them a few days on their own in the wilderness, in case they got separated. Legend and Twilight had estimated their joint supplies would last them another week or so at their current rate. After that, they would either have to hope the seemingly endless storm would finally blow over, or they could at least hunt some food. 

As Twilight plonked himself on the ground beside the fire and rubbed his hands over the flames, Legend's hair caught his eye. 

“You been outside while I was gone?” He asked. 

“Huh?” Legend looked up from the stew. 

“Your hair,” Twilight said, pointing at Legend's lop-sided fringe. “The pink bits are all white, like it's got frost on it or something.”

“What are you talking about? I haven't been out…” Legend frowned, putting down his spoon to examine his hair. 

As he lifted the lock to his face however, he stopped short. Twilight wasn't exaggerating. At least six inches of Legend's hair had turned a brilliant white. Definitely the hair itself, not frost touched as Twilight had suggested. 

“Huh, that's probably concerning, right?” 

“I don't know, I always thought the pink was pretty strange to be fair,” Twilight shrugged unhelpfully. Not that he could think of anything else to say. 

“Well whatever it is, you've got it too. And weren't the marks on your face black before?” 

“What?!”

Legend rummaged in his pack and pulled out a small hand mirror which he tossed towards Twilight. Catching the small disk and holding it up to his face, Twilight's brow creased as his eyes widened. Large strands of his dark blond hair had turned white, just as Legend's had. Alarmingly the Vet was right about the mark on his forehead and cheek bones too. The Twili eye, a mark of his cursed form, had changed from charcoal gray to brightest white. 

“Fuck!” Twilight exclaimed, holding the mirror closer to his face to get a better look. 

“Something in this area must be affecting us somehow,” Legend said sagely. 

“D’you think…” Twilight trailed off, his mind racing. “Hang on a second.”

Before Legend could object, Twilight grabbed his crystal and shifted. As the shards of twilight faded around the wolf, Legend raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, that's interesting. Um, Twilight, you're going white.” Legend said tentatively. 

Twilight frowned and lifted a paw to inspect his fur. Just as Legend said, the dark gray colour had faded away to an almost pure white. Though there were still dark patches, Twilight's pelt was definitely in the process of changing colour. Concerned eyes met Legend's as Twilight lifted his head and let out a soft whine. 

“I don't think it's something we need to worry about. Unless it's permanent of course,” Legend sighed, still fiddling with his own hair. 

As his gaze drifted from Twilight back to himself a thought began to form. A possible explanation to what was happening to them. Legend sighed deeply. 

“Can… can you transform me while you're like that? Or do I have to touch the crystal?”

Twilight did his best approximation of a shrug while he tilted his head to one side. 

“I'm gonna take that as an ‘I have no idea’!” Legend chuckled, uncrossing his legs as he pushed himself up. “Let me try something.”

Twilight padded forwards and Legend held out a hand, which he softly placed on Twilight's forehead. Right over the now black mark on his head. Twi's fur was warm beneath Legend's fingers, and though instinct tugged at his insides that this was a predator, Legend fought to keep his focus. 

Legend wasn't sure what he was doing, but he had an idea. Reaching out with his own magical awareness, he searched for the Twili magic that had transformed his brother. It was difficult to distinguish between Twilight's own innate magic and the power of the Twili crystal. They seemed so intertwined and integral to one another. 

In that moment of connection, Legend finally understood why Twilight coveted the crystal and the power it bestowed upon him. Their ranch hand often spoke of the Twilight Princess he had fallen for, without being able to declare his love. Since the crystal was his only remaining connection to the Twilight Realm, there was no wonder he enjoyed being in his wolf form so much. 

When Legend opened his eyes Twilight loomed over him as though he had grown twice his size. Looking down of course it wasn't Twilight who had grown, but Legend who had shrunk. 

“Huh, he looks a bit like candy floss!” Twilight thought to himself. 

Legend suddenly froze, an action which had nothing to do with instincts or the cold. Slowly, he turned his head to stare at the wolf standing beside him. 

“Did you just…? Did I just… hear you speak?” He uttered, voice almost stuck in his throat. 

“Wait? You can understand me like this?!” Twilight exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice as he lowered his head. 

“Um, yeah, I can understand you perfectly. Your voice is a bit deeper like this, but you still sound like yourself Twi.” Legend replied 

“Wow, the only person I've ever been able to talk to in this form was, Midna,” Twilight still sounded thrilled, but his tone changed as he said Midna’s name. 

“No one else understands you like this?” Legend frowned, which in his current form Twilight thought was adorable. 

“Well I've always been able to talk to other animals, maybe that's why you can hear me? Maybe it's an animal thing more than a crystal thing?”

“Perhaps. Wait, did you say I looked like cotton candy?!” Legend suddenly exclaimed, crossing his tiny forelegs.

“Yes, sorry. I didn't know you would hear that.” Twilight replied sheepishly. 

Feeling a little more relaxed, Twilight sat back on his hind legs, his tail wagging softly behind him. 

“Right. So, your markings have almost completely reversed,” Legend mused, taking a few steps forwards. “The bits that were dark are now going white and the white bits are sort of gray.”

“Really?” 

Twilight tried to look back on himself to get a look at his coat, but one thing he had always found as a wolf was that he could hardly see his own form. Realising Twilight's struggle, Legend picked up the mirror off the ground and held it up. In his tiny fury paws the mirror felt huge, covering his entire head. 

“Wow, I look… Really different,” Twilight uttered, as he observed what he could see of himself in the tiny mirror. “I hardly recognise myself!”

“You still look like a big dumb beast to me!” Legend scoffed. 

“And you really do look like candy floss! Especially that fluffy little tail of yours, all pink and white swirls.” Twilight teased, baring his teeth. “I could just eat you all up, probably wouldn't take more than a few bites.”

Enjoying his game, Twilight began to stalk towards the pale rabbit. Mischief and hunger in his eyes. He lowered his body to the ground as though about to pounce. 

“Perhaps I'll have a candy rabbit for supper instead of rations tonight?”

Legend's heart beat was racing. He could feel it pounding against his small rib cage. His nose twitched, taking in every scent emanating from Twilight. But curse his rabbit's heart for making it impossible to figure out what to do. His eyes darted left and right, searching for escape. 

Twilight shifted in his peripheral vision and Legend panicked. He turned on the spot and dove beneath the blankets in an attempt at hiding. Burying himself so completely that Twilight lost sight of him. 

“Vet?!” Twilight huffed a laugh. “Legend? Hey, are you okay? I'm sorry if I scared you. I just wanted to have some fun.” 

No response came from the pile of blankets, save for a faint shivering. Twilight let out a deflated sigh, perhaps he had taken his joke too far. After all, Legend had been cautious of Twilight in his wolf form when he was a Hylian. Only Spirits knew how he felt about Twi in his rabbit shape. 

Twilight dropped down to the ground, pressing his chin against the floor of the cave. He puffed out a breath through his nose before nudging the lump under the blankets. 

“Legend,” said Twilight in his softest voice. “I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Well, maybe I did a little bit. I guess my instincts in this form are pretty strong. But I really don't want you to be scared of me. You're my brother and I only want you to be happy, I don't want you to think of me as a big scary monster. So please come out and talk to me.”

It took several minutes for the blankets to stir. Twilight waited patiently as two white ears appeared on the other side of the bed roll, followed by a pair of violet eyes and a tiny black nose. Legend's eyes were still wide and wary, and they never left Twilight as he emerged from the safety of his cover. 

“For a minute there, I really thought you were going to hurt me,” Legend breathed. His heart still racing as he struggled to calm his breath. 

“I would never hurt you, Legend, I was being stupid. I'm so sorry I scared you. Please believe I would never wish you harm, no matter how I look.” Twilight insisted, a shard of ice forming in his heart at the stare which Legend fixed on him. 

“I… I know you wouldn't hurt me. I do. It's just, when I'm in this form, it's like I can't control my instincts. I hate being a rabbit. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable. Can't believe you got turned into a wolf.”

Legend crossed his forelegs again and turned away. His left ear twitched in frustration and Twilight could sense Legend's emotions coming off of him in waves. 

Great, as if he didn't feel guilty already. 

“Lege, I… I don't know why our forms are so different. But you are definitely selling yourself short. You should see just how fast you can run, it's impressive. I can only run fast for a short time before I get exhausted. And it's clear your senses are far stronger than mine. You keep twitching your ear like you're listening to something. I'm guessing you're listening to the storm outside?”

“It's loud and annoying, kinda like you,” Legend scoffed. 

“In any case, you shouldn't compare yourself to me. You've done and seen so much Lege, I had one adventure and I had so much help doing everything. Without Midna I never would have succeeded in saving Zelda and the Twilight Realm. Without this form and her power, I never would have made it. 

         But you, you've been on so many quests I've lost count of all the stories you've told us. Even if you were weak and vulnerable, which you are not, surely being a hero of courage means overcoming those obstacles. Which you have done ten times more than the rest of us.”

“Hmm, I guess you have a point. Courage not being the absence of fear and all that.”

Legend paused and sighed. The fire was dying again. During their shenanigans they had both neglected to keep it going. Even through his fur Legend could feel the air in the cave steadily growing cooler. 

“We should change back and get the fire going again.”

“Um, about changing back.” Twilight said slowly. 

“Urgh, I totally forgot about that. Don't suppose you've come across any moon pearls since the last time I was like this?” Legend groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he tapped his foot on the floor. 

“No, sorry. I should have said something earlier, but I forgot you can't change back on your own. But since we're kind of warmer like this anyway, I'll stay like this until we can get out of here.” Twilight insisted, sitting up again and giving his head a firm nod. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive, I like being Wolfie. And I have no idea if this colour change thing will ever happen again. I kinda like it.”

“Its probably because of the weather,” Legend sighed. 

As he spoke he began pulling the blankets into more of a pile together. Twilight stood up and joined him, lending his teeth to the effort. Teeth which Legend found he no longer flinched at the sight of. 

“Wha do ou mean t wever?” Twilight asked with a mouthful of blankets. 

“In my time there are hares that live on the snowy peaks. During the summer when there's less snow on the ground, their coats are brown to disguise themselves. But in the winter when it gets colder, their fur changes to white so they can blend in with the snow cover.”

“Thats really clever. Goats do something similar by shedding their thicker wool during the summer. But I've never known of a colour changing creature before. That's so cool.”

“Yeah, well, looks like we are now thanks to these forms,” Legend sighed un-enthusiatically. 

He plonked himself down on the edge of the blankets beside the fire and picked up a few sticks to throw onto the pile. A few sparks flew up but the fire barely changed. Twilight decided to help and picked up a larger branch in his teeth, adding it carefully to the fire. With the extra fuel the flames began to grow once more, adding a little more warmth to their little haven. 

“I know I've said your rabbit form is cute, but it's also pretty cool. You know I like animals, and having a brother who can turn into one is pretty great.”

Twilight stared at the fire for a moment, the orange light dancing in his dark blue eyes. Legend watched Twilight. No longer petrified of the blue eyed beast, instead finding his presence comforting. 

“I always saw it as more of a curse. But seeing how you use yours to your advantage, how you thrive in your wolf form, makes me think maybe I was wrong.”

“How long do you think we'll be stuck on this mountain?” Twi asked, shifting the conversation in a new direction. 

“Who knows? Nayru can be a stubborn bitch, maybe she'll keep this storm up for another month!” Legend exclaimed, tucking his legs under his body as he tried to stay warm. 

“Well, if we are stuck up here for another month, we'll work together to survive. Right?” 

“Yeah Twi, a white rabbit and a white wolf, alone in the wilderness!” Legend chucked, though the idea warmed his heart. 

Perhaps being stuck in his rabbit body wouldn't be so terrible this time. 

***

“Guys! I think I found them!” Wild's voice echoed off the surrounding trees. 

Twilight quickly shook off the drowsiness of sleep and was instantly alert. Legend, who was snuggled up between Twilight's legs, was slower to react. 

“Hey guys, we found you at last. Are you both okay?” Wild continued to talk as he forced his way into the small cave. 

“Ah shit!” Legend exclaimed when he realised who was talking, and what he looked like. 

“It's alright, they'll be fine about it, I'll make sure of it,” Twilight assured him, as he slowly pushed himself up onto four legs, careful not to jostle Legend too much. 

Twilight shifted back into Hylian form and asked Wild if Sky was with him. Unfortunately Sky was with another search party and Wild only had Four and Time with him. With a sigh, Legend allowed Twilight to pick him up and carry him from the cave. 

“Whoa Twi, what happened to your hair?!” Four remarked, unable to keep himself from pointing. 

Twilight could guess what he looked like, his usually shaggy hair as white as the surrounding snow. It had been a boon for him while he'd been out hunting for boar. Now however, it seemed to make him stand out. 

“Wait, where's Legend, and why do you have a rab…” Time began, however while he spoke his brain worked quicker than his mouth. 

He stared open mouthed at the creature cradled in Twilight's arms. Its fur was as starkly white as Twi's hair, but the little tunic it wore was still bright red. 

“Is that? How is that…? What happened to him?” Time fumbled. 

“Calm down Old Man, there's plenty of time to explain. Yes I'm a rabbit, no it's not a bad thing, yes our hair is white, it's probably because the climate is so cold and our bodies reacted to it. Any more questions?” 

Legend stared around at the small circle of boys surrounding him and Twilight. All of them seemed just as dumbfounded, and unable to stop gawping at him. 

“Right, good. Now can we please get off this damn mountain and find Sky, so I can change back!” 

[greenwitchcrafts]

November 2023 witch guide

Full moon: November 27th

New moon: November 13th

Sabbats: None

November Beaver Moon

Known as: Digging(or scratching) moon, Deer rutting moon, Frost moon, Whitefish moon, Mourning Moon, Dark moon, Blotmonath, Fog moon, Mad moon, Moon of storms, Herbistmanoth & Freezing moon

Element: Water

Zodiac: Scorpio & Sagittarius

Nature spirits: Subterranean faeries

Deities: Astarte, Bast, Black Isis, Hecate, Kali, Lakshmi, Mawu, Nicnevin, Osiris & Saraswati

Animals: Crocodile, jackal, scorpion & unicorn

Birds: Goose, owl & sparrow

Trees: Alder, cypress & hazel

Herbs: Betony, blessed thistle, borage, cinquefoil, fennel, grains of paradise & verbena

Flowers: Blooming cacti & chrysanthemum

Scents: Cedar, cherry blossom, hyacinth, lemon, narcissus & peppermint

Stones: Beryl, cat's eye, citrine, yellow sapphire, topaz & turquoise

Colors: Blues, grey, sea green & silver

Energy: Deity communication, cooperation, death, divination, focus, passion, healing, preparation, secrets, sex matters, taking root & transformations.

The Beaver Moon gets its name because it is the time of year when beavers begin to take shelter in their lodges, having laid up sufficient food stores for the long winter ahead. During the fur trade in North America, it was also the season to trap beavers for their thick, winter-ready pelts. 

Other celebrations:

• Lunantishees

November 11th

Also known as: The day of the Sidhe

This day celebrates the Lunantishee Faeries & honors the sacred blackthorn tree that they protect. It is said these faeries dance around their host blackthorn tree or bush by the light of the full moon in which they worship. The Lunantishee are closely associated with moonstone as their name of Moon-Sidhe or moon faeries suggest. These faeries are intensely protective guardians who highlight to us the need to protect our homes & our personal energies/ourselves.

In some traditions people would leave offerings like cakes, milk, honey or ale to avert any mischievous behavior from the faeries & if you had a blackthorn tree leave blackthorn blessings upon you.

During this time it is advised to not pick, cut or prune these plants under any circumstances or else misfortune would be placed upon them.

•Night of Hecate

November 16th

Though many choose to honor the Goddess Hecate during this day, there doesn't seem to be any historical evidence suggesting this particular day has any traditional associations or events & likely was mistaken from Hekate's Deipnon which takes place during the dark phase of the moon. However modern practitioners use this day to honor Hekate despite this.

Some celebrate by having a feast filled with wine, mushrooms, bread & more while also leaving some at the threshold of their front door to symbolize the crossroads between indoors and outdoors.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

[cozzzynook]

Ansty Anon Back with part 5

Deep rumbles of thunder grew closer as rain began to fall and pelt their frames dampening everyone's moods. That would be case all except Starscream who had never been more thankful for the terrible weather, it meant losing Soundwave was a lot easier. Perfect. Letting out a sharp vent the seeker quickly dived bomb using the heavy rainfall as cover as twisted and turned in a unwaning patten.

"Try and keep up" Starscream hissed softly as he made another swift turn. The sky then light up in bright hues as lighting began to dance along the sky.

The young seekerling struggled to keep up as their dented wing hissed in pain at every drop of rain made it sting. They wanted to land to rest as the longer they stayed out in the open sky the risk of getting hit by lighting grew higher. Just then a bright blinding light filled the sky making it difficult to see and fly. Out of instinct the seekerling dived hoping to find some cover or ground to land. However land never came as someone had grabbed a hold their Alt-Mode and was guiding them towards a small hidden cave. Finally in some form of shelter the gold and white sparkling transformed back into their Root-Mode letting out a shaky sigh as they sat down on the cold stone floor.

Starscream then looked back at the cave's entrance checking to see if they have truly lost Soundwave in the storm. Pleased that they weren't being followed Starscream turned to finally address the young sparkling. His sparkling. "I suppose you're scared and confused to what's going on, correct?"

"Yes..." They lowered their helm as they pulled their knees close to their chest.

"I thought so..." Starscream muttered as he knelt down in order to check over the seekerling's dented wing. The damage wasn't sever and the dent could easily be fixed and with some rest they can fly in no time. "Well, I suppose you deserve to know the truth. I'm not sure what your Carrier told you but..." Starscream lowered his gaze as his wings flicked nervously as he just realised how long it has been since he last saw them.

"Don't worry, I already figured it out" The young sparkling perked up as they gave a tiny smile. "You're my Sire...right?"

"Correct..." Smart that one. Starscream felt pride fill his spark.

"But why did you take me away? Do you really hate my Carrier that much?..." The seekerling lowered their helm again as their wings flickered with worry and slight fear.

"No!" Starscream hissed as he flared his own wings. "I never hated him! I still-" Taking a deep vent he slowly stood up as he turned to face the cave's entrance again, he needed to calm down and explain his side of the story. "I don't hate your Carrier, I never did. I just wanted you both to be safe and yet...that seems impossible now"

The sparkling had fully raised their helm as they looked on curiously. Their wings fluttered as they slowly sat up straighter. "If you don't hate Carrier...what happened?"

Starscream sighed as he lowered his gaze. "When the war first started me and your Carrier conjunxed in secret. For a while everything was perfect and no one was none the wiser" He then crossed his arms as he leaned against the stone wall feeling regret wash over him. "But when you were just a new-spark, everyone found out about us and I was forced to make a difficult choice. I've regretted it ever since"

"Oh..." The sparkling hummed as they began to sit more comfortable on the stone floor. A weird sense of relief filled their spark as they listened to their Sire's story. "What's going to happen now?"

The seeker turned and gave a soft but regretful smile. "I'm going to make sure you and your Carrier get out of this mess. You might never see me again but as long as you are both safe, I don't care" He then pulled up his comm link and sent a ping. Starscream then flicked his wings before pulling something out of his sub-space. "Here take this, I wanted to give you it when you were still a bittie, before everything..."

The seekerling took a-hold of a plushie that looked like one of Earth's birds, its colours where a mix of reds and gold and blue. Their wings flutters gleefully as they hugged the plushie tight while a wide smile formed on their face. "Hehe, Thank you!"

Starscream felt warmth bloom in his spark as he gave a soft smile. "You're welcome"

An hour had passed and the storm had began to die down and move on. A soft cool breeze filled the cave drawing a soft shiver from Starscream as he kept watched at the cave's entrance. Letting out s deep vent the seeker got to his pedes and stretched both his wings and limbs to remove the tension from his wires and hydraulics. He barely had time to relax his frame before he was suddenly pushed and pinned against the wall. The seeker gave a confused squeak as he met the familiar gaze.

"Well, hello to you too Bumblebee" The seeker gave a smirk.

"Don't 'hello me', Starscream." Bumblebee hissed as he tightened his grip on the seeker's shoulders. "First you pull a stunt like that and now you want to talk as if nothing happened?!"

"look I can explain- just keep your voice down" Starscream whispered as he lowered his wings to seem less threatening. He then calmed his field hoping it would relax the yellow mech.

Bumblebee just let out a frustrated sigh as he finally let go of the seeker, his door wings flicked as he took a couple steps back. "Alright...what do you want? You seemed to be avoiding us as much as possible until now. What's changed?"

"I'll be forward with you..." Starscream muttered as he looked over to where their sparking was currently recharging. He then gave a worried look as he returned his gaze back to his former conjunx. "You're both in danger...Megatron is after our sparkling and if I don't bring them to him, he'll hurt you.."

"What?!" Bee hissed as his plating flared with both shock and anger. The yellow mech then let out a soft growl as his door wings flicked in rage. "You just bring that up now?!"

"Well I did try and warn you a few weeks earlier but you seemed so sure not to speak with me that night..." Starscream rolled his optics as he put a servo on hip.

"Ah...that night" Bee felt embarrassment and shame wash over. All of this could have been avoid if he didn't blow up at Starscream that night, oh well he can't do anything about that now. "Look I'm sorry I lost my temper that night, but you did just show up out of nowhere in the middle of the night..."

The seeker gave a soft chuckle as he flicked his wings in amusement. "Understandable. I should have chose a better time to speak with you in secret. As for now we have bigger things to worry about"

"Right...What do you want us to do about that?" The yellow mech tilted his helm as he crossed both of his arms. He gave a little wince as his still fresh wounds stung a little but he didn't focuses on that now.

Starscream then gave a soft hum as he pulled out a small data slug from his sub-space. He then handed it to Bumblebee while giving a sorrowful look. "I know a place where you'll both be safe, use this data slug to find it. It has co-ordinates that will lead you to a neutral planet far from here"

Bee's optics went wide as he scanned the data slug in his servo, a soft sigh escaped his vents as he shook his helm. "Star, I don't know what to say..." With his free servo he grabbed a-hold of the seeker's servo drawing a startled gasped. "You really do care. Thank you"

Starscream gave a soft smile as he felt energon beginning to prickle at his cheeks while his spark spun a little quicker. He then turned his helm to avoid gazing into those soft blue optics he loved so much. "You're welcome little bee, just be safe...that's all I ask of you both"

Bumblebee then turned his own helm as he felt his own cheeks beginning to warm. Flicking his door wings he pulled away his servo already missing its familiar warmth as he turned to speak. "We will, and Star?"

"Hm?"

"Please don't get yourself killed. That's all I ask"

Starscream gave a smirk as he fluttered his wings smugly. "Oh Bumblebee, you of all mechs should know that I don't go down easily" And that was a fact Starscream was hoping to keep. He just needed to stay around to keep Megatron's wrath away from his family for as long as possible, until he was sure they were safe.

I’m so sorry i took so long to read this master piece but i thank you for creating this and letting me read it 😍😭

[many-gay-magpies]

An expansion of my headcannon of skykids being able to transform into the animals their masks are based off of! Typed versions of the image text and additional notes below the cut, because LORD do I have so much to say about this concept.

Image 1:

Bottom left text:

BODY is just the CONTAINER—Skykid soul is the LIGHT inside

Light takes shape of container at first, but has no one shape

Top right text:

Light grows used to assuming humanoid shape to fit container, but as a skykid strengthens their light, they remember/learn how to assume other shapes and gain the ability to mold their container to their will.

Image 2:

LIGHT is fluid, but the container is stiff and easily broken (at least at first). It takes a lot of slow, hard work to mold it, and MASKS are used to tell the container what shape to take/give the LIGHT a direction.

Skykids imbue their mask with their light so that when they wear it, it connects to them and allows the transformation to occur.

Change happens in increments, not all at once—learning to shape oneself takes TIME.

Small notes: "Small changes first" above the drawing of the two hands, and "Most stick to an anthropomorphic form" beside the fox skykid.

Additional Notes:

This process is also why Skykids are born wearing masks. Because light is fluid and has no single shape, the light of a newborn Skykid has not yet learned how to be humanoid, and is at risk of breaking the fragile body it inhabits, therefore: Megabird gives newborn Skykids a basic mask to “teach” their light how to maintain its shape inside the container. It takes a lot of effort to obtain the blank/“faceless” mask because it takes a lot of effort for Skykids to maintain a humanoid shape without the assistance of a mask.

Also potentially how the chibi mask works (in a world where chibis aren’t just toddlers/babies)—the mask tells the Skykid to be small.

The process of becoming a Morpho (workshopping the name) is long and arduous, and involves a lot of studying the animal one wants to take the shape of, before then making the mask that will guide the shape-change. Though most of the Skykids who take an animal form choose a more anthropomorphic default, it is possible to transform completely into the animal of choice, and this is often done for fun or stress relief.

Possible that the Eden cycle strengthens the body and makes it more malleable to change? Something to do with repeatedly dying and being reincarnated and becoming more familiar with/at home in the body you possess. Kinda like how exercising is just you tearing muscles in your body so that they grow back even stronger.

Masks can also of course be just masks. A lot of Skykids like to wear animal masks without doing any of the actual Becoming; its fun to disguise as a little creature sometimes!

Unlike human beings (and potentially ancestors?), who are all full of guts and bones and stuff, Skykids are pretty much all light in there, and the outside is just a shell. They can eat and drink and everything, and it’s fun, but it all gets burnt up instead of being digested or anything and they don’t need it to survive. Also how Krill work; they’re starved for light, and Skykids are full of it, but there’s this pesky little shell in the way, so the Krill have got to crack it to get the light out.

This is slightly inspired by the legends of the Selkie, with the masks being akin to the seal pelts that the Selkie wear to turn themselves into seals.

The body/container is what protects Skykids from having their light too badly damaged and allows them to walk the realms of Sky, but it is also what limits them in their ability to shape-change. In a hypothetical situation where a Skykid was completely unrestrained (i.e. pure light without a body, like we are in Orbit), they could potentially become any and every light creature available to them.

Essentially: Skykids = light, and light = all light creatures, so Skykids = all light creatures.

I’ll probably think of more stuff to add to this later, but for now that’s about it. I’m already thinking up possible animal forms for my singular sky OC lol (because even though I looked it up and that mask is technically a serow mask, it could very easily be any number of other things, like a dragon or a giraffe).

Bonus content: a little bird guy, and closeups of the random fox guy I made without their cape and hair (because I put way too much detail into parts of their outfit that weren’t even going to be visible). I’m for sure drawing them again <3

[adrift-in-thyme]

I saw your post about requesting things for your Fairy Time AU and have a question. Does this AU include any of the weaknesses the Fae have in real wild folklore (ex. Iron)?

Oh, maybe you could write a little snippet with Time/Hyrule debunking common fairy myths with the rest of the group?

First off I’m SO SO SORRY for the long wait!! My writing motivation flew out the window and didn’t return until today. Tysm for being patient <333

ALSO, this got unexpectedly angsty (though was it really unexpected? This is me we’re talking about XD). So sorry about that

CW for mentions of injury, specifically burn wounds, and mind control

—————————————-

Time expects questions. After all, it is only natural that in the face of the information they have managed to uncover, the heroes would wonder. A fairy is a mystical thing, mysterious even to those as closely acquainted as they. And to learn that blessed blood runs through two of their companions is no small thing.

But the queries that come, pelting like raindrops, are different than he anticipated.

“Magic,” Legend says when the sun is high and the heroes prepare for battle, “can it harm you in ways it doesn’t others? Mortals, I mean.”

“What about salt?” It is Wild who asks, when they have set up camp for the night. He peers at the rock salt in his hand as though it is liable to attack. “I’ve heard fairies don’t like it.”

“Can fairies die?” Wind asks with eyes so large, Time imagines he can see the Great Sea roiling within them. “In ways humans can’t?”

Iron, curses, traps to ensnare — they have heard of them all. And now, they wonder about them all.

It’s touching, Time decides as he and Hyrule respond to their queries. Or attempt to. It is difficult to reply to things that spear their deepest worries, their most intimate wounds. That dredge up memories long thought buried and fling them into the light of day.

But yes, this protective instinct, this reckless kindness is touching. Knowledge is power, especially where Hyrule’s saviors are concerned. Obtaining it can be the difference between success and defeat.

From anyone else, such queries would be little more than flaming arrows, flying towards the heart. And truthfully, Time must shove aside that soul-deep instinct to hold up his shield to stave them off. The words that usher from his lips, the answers he gives, could very well doom him.

They have — unspoken though they were — many times before.

“Iron is the fae’s greatest weakness,” he whispers, a secret that burns like the material he references. “However, spells, when properly cast, are just as dangerous.”

“Salt doesn’t harm us though,” Hyrule clarifies, his voice a summer’s day breeze. “And neither does your cooking, champion.”

Wild laughs at that, a sound like water singing over river stones.

Wind’s question is the hardest to answer, though. In a way, the reply is cloaked within the others, enveloped in the unveiling of their deepest frailties.

Iron will sear a fae’s skin clean off their bones, mangle their wings into masses of excruciating matter.

Spells will enslave them, transform them into monsters that devour their own kin. Or simply wipe their minds clean, enslave them to a purpose they can no longer remember to resist.

Yes, many things can kill a fairy. But the thing that truly does them in (the thing Time sometimes wonders about whether it will do him in) is not unique to fae-kind.

Fairies, like mortals, care deeply.

(Though, perhaps that care they hold inside goes further than even mortal capabilities. Perhaps, the protective instinct, the need to guard and heal and care for is unnatural. Perhaps, it always has been and Time has only failed to notice it.)

(Perhaps, the love he sees in Malon’s eyes when he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her close, the teasing affection in Warriors’ when he claps a hand on Time’s shoulder, the vulnerability in Twilight’s when Time admits his pride…perhaps, those are not quite the same stuff as the emotion in his own heart.)

(He will never know. He is content with that.)

Regardless, this love is the greatest danger fairies face. For when their loved ones are in danger, when evil threatens the people whose caring hands embrace their very souls, a fairy is helpless to stand back and do nothing.

The weaknesses that plague them — their small size and precious, fragile wings, these make a fairy vulnerable. But their willingness to lunge into the fire, that is what causes them to burn.