#writeyot

[sinsofazeroth]

Black Clover - Cuddling headcanons - Nozel Silva

This boy has been on my mind lately, so I decided to write some cuddling headcanons for him because he deserves love (especially after the reveal two chapters ago, sob sob)!

Tags: fluff, canon x gn!reader, sfw

A/N : I will be taking requests now! Unlimited slots for the next few days! Check out my pinned post for more info, hope to see you there!

- Mr. Royal over here would never admit to wanting physical affection. So if you tell him you want to cuddle he'd brush you off with "maybe later" or "not now, I'm busy". However, if you just walk up to him and hug him, he'd become flustered as hell and freeze for a second before hesitantly putting a hand on your back.

- "y/n, I-" he'd start, trying to tell you off, but if you're like me that would only cause your embrace to tighten around him. Nozel is definitely touch starved but at the same time he doesn't really know how to deal with someone wanting to give him affection. So, as much in denial as he is, he'll subconsciously start wrapping his arms around you too, gently resting his chin on your head. He'll close his eyes and enjoy your warmth against him in a sweet moment of silence and solace.

- After giving him some time to realise you're not gonna let him off just like that, you look at him and say "Let's cuddle, Nozel!" He'll visibly blush and slightly turn his head to face away from you, still holding you by the waist. "I suppose you're not going to take 'no' for an answer." Nozel notes. Give him a smile and he'll internally melt and blush even more. Mr. Tsundere then starts leading you to a comfortable spot where the two of you can share your moments of affection, letting you sit on his lap if you want to. He'd never let you do that unless the two of you are in your or Nozel's room at night, when he's absolutely certain nobody would come to disturb you.

- So you're finally there, resting in each other's embrace. You can feel Nozel running his hand along the back of your head with soft and gentle motions. Eventually, he'll start trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone with one hand still gently stroking along your neck and head and the other entangling with yours. It's rare moments like these that he cherishes so much. Just you and him, completely lost within each other. If you start kissing him too now, Nozel will absolutely become even more mush. His skin feels soft and tender as you put kisses on various spots of his face.

- He won't speak much during these tender exchanges as he's completely lost in the moment. With you, he can let everything be, forgetting all about his duties and burdens for just a bit. As his embrace begins to tighten around you, you bury your face into the fluffy collar of his cape while Nozel leans his cheek against you, drawing soft circles onto your back with the palm of his hand, his other arm firmly wrapped around your waist. Even if you whisper sweet "I love you"'s he still won't answer, but you can feel his emotions washing over you. You don't need verbal reassurance with Nozel, because the fact he's letting you be this close to him is already reassurance enough. He's way too shy to properly convey his feelings for you anyways, hehe!

- These cuddly moments sadly don't last very long usually since Nozel can be very dense during the day, but it does help him wind down a bit. He'll gently part from you, giving your lips a few soft pecks before sighing, clearly lamenting having to get back to work (but again, he'll never admit it, fufu) and petting your head before turning on his heel and walking back to his office. As you watch him walk away he'll stop and slightly turn his head towards you and you notice a very rare, gentle smile form on his face. His sweet, sincere smile which only you get to know. And you and me, we got to love it as well.

[wynnposts]

More talented and amazing people I had a pleasure of spending time with.

[justasignature]

And here it is, finally, my Food and Cooking TT entry. Every page contains only canon characters, OCs and zoosonas. Who? Solution after the break!

Page 1:

Visiti’s ( @visiti) guanaco, Rose’s ( @briskby) red panda, Travis, ACA’s ( @aca-draw) and Grivaire’s ( @grivaire) anteaters, Boney_M’s ( @boney-m-writes) stoat Siarl and Anneke and Charlie from Pack Street ( @tgweaver)

Page 2:

In the portrait Chippy, Dukeanon’s ( @zootopiaconfessions) chipmunk, then Hugh and Percy ( @inkytopia), skunk and polecat (behind the otter), MisterE’s (https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterEAnon/pseuds/MisterEAnon) otter Felix, Kris, Judy, Nick, Rex the badger and Remmy the sheep ( @tgweaver).

Page 3:

Knight’s ( @anotherknight) wolf Brian, Famished ( @starvedfox) grey fox Hamilton, T’s ( @toannghe1997) red fox, ColonCapitalT’s marten, Alec’s ( @eightspartans) meerkat, Paranon’s ( @paranonthepoet) dingo, Lucius’ ( @well-dressed-wolf) and Canidae’s ( @lovelymayor) wolves.

Page 4:

P&P’s ( @penandpaperelephant) elephant, Weaver’s ( @tgweaver) antelope, Gud’s ( @gudguymaybe) and Bore’s ( @boreoboros) goats, Armasyll’s (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armasyll/pseuds/Armasyll) chamois, Mint’s ( @brermint) bunny Rosco, Fuel’s ( @foxefuel) antelope, Zhan’s ( @zhanbao) mouse Melody, and Comicanon’s ( @comicanon) bunny.

Page 5:

Mead’s ( @mistermead) chipmunk, Translatoranon’s bear and his wife (red fox), NAH’s ( @not-an-artblog) hyena, RF’s ( @raccoonfg) raccoon, Writeyote’s coyote, Rob’s ( @robcivecat) civet and, at the end, my zoosona, Terry the grey Indian mongoose.

[t3event]

TT20 - Sci-Fi

A Murder in Neon by: Writeyote and Clunkbot

Art by A_Signature

Written in varying states of sobriety, “A Murder in Neon” is the story of Joseph Toller, a gritty cybernetic detective. Join Toller as he investigates a murder in Neotopia’s festering “12th layer.”

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10612329

A World All Her Own by: Toga

art by: Akella

A research team stumbles upon the find of a lifetime.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154437/

Rabbit Appreciation Day by: PseudoFox

In an alternative future, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde have been living together in a nice apartment complex in downtown Zootopia. A peculiar holiday that Judy doesn't quite understand, let alone enjoy, is here. The residents want her to start things off for their special Easter celebration, but she feels reluctant to say the least.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10650240/chapters/23565846

Shadowbun: Lights, Camera, Disaster! by: JackFields

Shadowrunners rely on two things in life, anonymity and overwhelming firepower. Can the team figure out a way to preserve the former, without resorting to the latter?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638447

Equivalence Principle by: Falke

>Nick and everyone else called it the Spar, because McKinnon Anchorage was a mouthful. It was the second-biggest station at Jupiter, after the habitats at Europa, but it was mostly science traffic from the insystem side and mining and shipping on the outsystem side. Civil Enforcement had a modest presence to keep an eye on things - a tiny post on the station itself, and a couple wings of pilots. >And there was a set of separate observation posts on the perimeter, with their arrays of sensors and just-in-case railguns. Most cops didn’t like the duty - Judy included - but Nick found the steady focus enjoyable every time they pulled a detail out here. It would give him some quiet time with his partner, which was always nice.

note from author: I am breaking all sorts of personal rules posting this. It’s an unfinished first part of a draft chapter for a sci-fi story I’ve had kicking around for a while. I wasn’t supposed to start it yet (I have too many projects underway as-is) but this Thursday’s theme was sci-fi and it’s just too much fun to play around in this AU.

https://falke-scribblings.tumblr.com/post/159553888674/equivalence-principle-thematic-thursday-0413

Reflections in My Mind by: RT_Pilon

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10662465

blind readthrough by comicanon

https://soundcloud.com/comicanon/reflections-in-my-mind

submission by Inky

submission by A_Signature

submission by RT Pilon

submission by PHO

submission by ACA

submission by Akella

submission by RobC

submission by OakThorn

submission by AKnight

submission by FanartIGuess

submission by Famished

submission by Tegaki

submission by Alan Smithee

submission by HighCow & Paranon

submission by Clunty

[sinsofazeroth]

Random soft headcanons - Black Clover - Fuegoleon Vermillion

Hii~

Welcome to round one of random soft headcanons! We’re starting off with our favorite serious lion king, Fuegoleon! Enjoy!

tags: fluff, canon x gn!reader, sfw

- despite his serious attitude, he loves you very much

- though he does struggle a bit with showing it

- his words are often awkward so he prefers to show his affection with actions, especially gifts

- refrains from PDA, especially in front of squad members and other captains

- in private he gets all soft though

- a lot of hugging and forehead kissing

- very good at separating work from private life, so he’d treat you like any other squad member in public

- but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less

- he’d give you a lot of reassuring words and gestures

- it strains him a lot to not spoil you out in public, but he figures it’d be best

- a good dancer and would love to teach you if you want to

- would be hesitant to engage in a serious relationship with you at first, especially if you’re a commoner/peasant, because he’d be afraid of judgement towards you

- but eventually he’d give in and declare you his s/o

- this man just thinks a lot and really wouldn’t want you to get hurt in any way

- very protective

- the absolute gentleman

- would absolutely go feral over your well-being

- anything you want he’d get you, asap

- he’d often fear for you to leave him because of his difficulties expressing his emotions and talk to you about it a lot, especially at night when you’re both in bed

- he needs your reassurance a lot

- literally can’t sleep unless he holds you close

- your presence eases his thoughts

- would love to vent to you while you hold him

- he needs it, all that stress can get to him :(

- he’d always make sure you feel appreciated

- he will act as your voice of reason whether you like it or not, but of course he does it out of love and will stop once he notices you don’t appreciate it, or if you voice your discomfort about it

- he just wants to be the absolute best he can for you

- but since he’s a very logical person, he puts his head over his heart a lot of times, even if it’s about you

- he still only strives for your comfort and happiness, he’ll be your rock to hold onto, your giver of honest advice and opinion when you need it, your calm inside the storm

[sinsofazeroth]

Dead End Rot

Summary: Lydia simply wants to live her life in the house she always wanted. However, her aunt keeps pestering her to pay off her house with a price that's impossible for Lydia to afford. Luckily she finds a strange, mangled creature in the property's garage who offers her a bargain she accepts, for better or for worse. Tags: horror, thriller, creature-feature Warnings: animal death, graphic description of corpses and various stages of decomposition Rating: mature

Chapter 1 - Roadkill

“Need… more…”

His voice has grown even weaker.

“...will… perish…”

Dead, glossed over eyes stare at her. She feels herself shaking.

“I know, I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you anything lately, but I’m here now.”

Her voice surprises her, as somehow she manages to keep it from shaking along with the rest of her body. Must be getting used to it.

She opens the bag and reaches inside, pulling out a handful of dead insects.

“Here. I know it’s not that much, but it’s all I can give you right now.”

Slowly she moves her hand towards the rotting creature in front of her. He’s been looking worse and worse the past weeks…

What once looked like a mangy dog is now a mess of rotting fur, flesh and bones. His lower half has completely rotted away from his torso, leaving his splintered spine and ribs exposed. There were no noticeable organs left at this point. It was all just one big mess of fluids and hair.

With her other hand she gently lifts the creature’s head from the cold garage floor. He takes that chance and gobbles up the insects, leaving not a single crumb.

“Not… enough…”

“I know, I know,” the woman sighs.

“...more… blood… more… blood…”

She ignores his mumblings, getting up to leave the garage where she first found him about three months ago. Without hesitation she closes the large gate and seals it shut, the creature’s demands still ringing out to her.

After locking up she leans against the gate and sighs deeply once again.

“How the hell am I gonna keep him fed…” she thinks out loud. “Guess I really have to go and look for roadkill. Oh well, better be seen as a public weirdo than become a half-rotten corpse in a garage,” her thought continues.

Suddenly she hears a phone ring. She hastily enters the house, stumbling over a few moving boxes in the process.

“Dammit, why haven’t I cleaned all this up yet,” she scolds herself.

With quite a bit of stretching she finally reaches the phone and answers it.

“Hello?”

“Lydia, dear! How are you? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days now!”

“Oh, mom? God, I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy looking for a job and keeping… other things in order.”

“It’s alright, dear. Say, have you found work yet? I really don’t want to pressure you but your aunt really wants the payment for the house soon, you know how she gets…”

“Riiiight, about that…”

Lydia rolls her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. ‘I really don’t want to pressure you’ yeah right, go suck that witch off even more, would you, she thinks.

“Just mail me the check as soon as you can, yes? Love you, dear! And please try to call more often. Your father and I are quite worried, you know?”

“Will do, mom. Gotta go now, bye.”

Without hearing her mother’s goodbye Lydia ends the call and puts the phone back in its charging station.

“Fucking bitch,” she mumbles. “If she wants my money so badly why doesn’t she call me herself?”

Lydia briefly sits down on a chair and rubs her temples.

“Oh, right. The fucking roadkill.”

She hastily stands up and hurries back out of the house, into her car. The engine starts and she drives off. The day before she already scouted out places with the most cases of roadkill and marked them on a map.

“‘Kay, let’s get to it, then. Wonder how many weirdos are gonna stare at me for picking up the roadkill,” Lydia chuckles slightly. “Not like anyone else does it around here, geez.”

A few minutes later she arrives at the first location marked on her map. She slows down the car in order to get a proper view of the road.

“Aha, got one!”

Lydia pulls over and gets out of the vehicle. Just off the side of the road lies a horribly mangled corpse.

“Hmm, must have been a raccoon or something. Poor thing. But don’t worry, you’re not gonna go to waste like that, little buddy.”

The woman takes out a black trash bag from the back seat of her car and scoops up the unfortunate animal. Just as she wanted to throw the bag back into the car, she grits her teeth and tilts her head.

“Great. Why now of all times?”

Another car drives by her. The driver seems to be extra curious as they slow down to properly stare at Lydia.

“Just please keep driving…”

The driver stops.

“Fuck me.”

A man steps out of the jet black vehicle. He quickly fixes his suit jacket and hesitantly walks towards Lydia.

“What are you doing here? What’s in that bag?” He inquires.

Lydia raises an eyebrow.

“Uh… roadkill?” She answers.

“Why do you need roadkill?” The man continues.

“None of your business, chap,” Lydia snarls at him.

“Well, I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I do appreciate that at least someone is getting those poor things off the roads. There’s just so many of ‘em, it’s pretty disturbing to drive along these parts seeing those critters smashed and broken left and right…”

“A-ha?” Lydia gives the man a confused look, raising her brow even further.

“Truth is, I picked up a few of them on my way to work earlier, but don’t really know where to put them. Would be a bit weird to just throw ‘em onto the compost in my yard. I got nosy neighbours, you know,” he gives the woman a sheepish smile.

Lydia’s face lights up.

“Now look at that, must be my lucky fucking day!”

The man seems to be slightly taken aback by her sudden statement. He begins to walk around to his car’s trunk.

Inside are two more black trash bags, presumably filled with even more roadkill. Lydia flashes a smug smirk. Jackpot!

“Yeah, so, I got my ways of putting those rascals to use. I can take care of that, no problem!” She exclaimed.

“Thank you, really. I have to get to work now, but if we meet again, I owe you one!” The man gave Lydia a warm smile. She shuddered slightly.

With two more bags of dead animals in tow she returns to her house. She opens the trunk and hoists the bags out with a groan.

“Hey, I got some great stuff for you today!” She shouts towards the sealed garage gate. Lydia sets the bags down and looks through her keys to undo the locks.

She opens the gate.

The stench is so much worse now. It’s been pretty warm lately so the decomposition is accelerated greatly. Lydia frowns at the surefire possibility of her ending up in the same position as the creature if she doesn’t get him what he needs, stat.

Hoisting the bags inside she already hears his laboured breathing.

“...”

“Cat got your tongue?”

He remains silent. Unusually silent.

A horrid, guttural growl suddenly shakes her to her very core.

“Shit, shit, shit…” she repeats in her thoughts, over and over.

Lydia hurries over to the broken creature, bags in tow. Hastily, she rips them open and dumps the horrid remains of those animals onto the floor. An uncomfortable amount of bodily fluids spreads out around Lydia’s feet.

Another growl, followed by wet smacking sounds.

She sighs in relief.

After a few minutes the creature has consumed all the woman brought him. He growls in content.

“I am again strong enough to speak. You do well, human.”

His rough, guttural voice rings out.

Lydia looks to the ground. All those nasty fluids are getting drawn to the creature, like he’s a sponge absorbing it all at once.

“I grow impatient, Lydia.”

She jerks, affixing her eyes back to him. It feels like she’s frozen in place.

“I need more sacrifices. Bigger sacrifices. I am still far from whole. I do hope you remember our bargain, Lydia.”

Lydia swallows.

“Of course…” she answers sheepishly.

Three months ago they had indeed struck a bargain. Lydia is to bring him sustenance in order to rebuild his terribly broken body. In exchange he will grant her the money she needs to pay off her aunt for the house she so desperately wanted. If she’s to break the bargain, however, he’s going to consume her instead, leaving the woman in the state he is in now, rotting, waiting for someone, anyone to come by and agree to strike a bargain with her.

Mustering him intently Lydia notices that the beast’s body has barely mended at all, though he is able to move more now. With each movement of his head however, his spine and facial bones make these harrowing cracking noises, like wood being strained until it’s about ready to break. It makes her sick to imagine herself in that same position.

“I’ll give you a week, Lydia.” The creature speaks again, accompanied by the cracking of his mangled bones.

Like an ice cold hand a shudder crawls up and down Lydia’s back and neck at those words. She merely nods in response, picks up the bags and leaves the garage, making sure to seal it extra tight this time.

[sinsofazeroth]

Atlant

The clock was ticking calmly and rhythmically. I lay in bed tucked into the near sheet-thin covers of the hotel bed. Though my eyes were closed, I was awake. Just a day before I was called by the military. They needed me to go on a survey mission. Promptly after I was flown out to Cuba. They didn't tell me much about that mission, only that I was supposed to fly a route on the Bermuda Triangle.

I prepared myself for possibly not coming back home.

I didn't have any family. No spouse, no children, no pets. Just lived a humble life. My parents had died years ago, and my sister was living her best life in Europe.

Despite it seeming bleak, I did value my life, doctor. I still do. I didn't want to die then as much as now, but my outlook on it changed drastically.

So, as I was saying, I lay there in my hotel room, drifting around in my thoughts. I checked the clock. 1 AM. I sighed and shifted a bit, trying to get into a more comfortable position. After about thirty minutes, I believe, I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning I got a message on my phone. It was my sister. She hadn't heard from me in a while and wished me health and fortune in life, wherever I was. It did make me smile, thinking about her.

The mission was supposed to start the next day, so I decided to gather some information on what I might encounter on that survey.

But let me tell you, ma'am, nothing I've heard or read could have prepared me for what I was really going to witness.

So, I left the hotel. There was a historical library nearby. When I arrived and got inside, it was… silent. Even for a library. It gave me the creeps.

I walked up the large spiral staircase and arrived at a massive door that was kept open by a rock. Entering the room I was quite amazed. Massive bookshelves, filled to the brim with ancient looking texts, lined up shelf by shelf. It seemed near endless.

To the left there was a counter, but nobody was behind it. I figured they were probably taking a break or something so I just went to browse the books.

I don't know what I was looking for exactly, but believe me, doctor, I found it straight away.

It was a very old looking book. Probably precious and historically valuable. Hard to believe something like that was in a library, and not safely kept at a museum. I looked over my shoulder and thought about it for a moment before reaching for the book.

The title read "ATLANT".

Atlantis? I thought aloud, and promptly I heard a voice behind me.

"More or less so, good sir."

I spun around, he did scare me, that young man. He held his hands clasped together in front of him like a salesman trying to talk me into buying his shoddy snakeoil. I looked down at the book and back at him. He gave me a chilling smirk.

“I’m sure you know about the myth that the grand city of Atlantis lies beneath the waves of the Bermuda Triangle,” he began. I nodded in response. You see, doctor, I’ve heard many tales of such things in my day, but most of my military colleagues simply made fun of the rumours. Now, I wasn’t a superstitious person at all, but something about it just… intrigued me, I guess.

So the man continued.

“Well, between you and me, good sir, I believe there is more to it than meets the eye. The rumours, I mean. I don’t know about any Atlantis, but there certainly is… something down there.”

When he finished that sentence my blood froze. I’ll tell you, ma’am, it was the most horrid chill I had ever gotten in my entire life.

So I stood there, staring at that weird guy in front of me, until he broke the awkward and horrifying silence. 

“But that’s just hearsay, good sir. It’s a good read, though! I’d highly recommend it.”

I smiled awkwardly and walked off to find a nice spot to read, but not before my throat tightened up. Like I was scared, but I didn’t quite know what I was supposed to be scared of…

So I sat down on a couch in a reading corner of the library and opened up the book. I was never a big fan of reading, so I decided to just look at a few pages to see what it was all about. 

The glossary was the first odd thing about the book. There was only one chapter, and it was named the same as the book itself, “ATLANT”. Written in uppercase, bold letters. I shrugged it off, thinking it was just an old piece of writing, so it was bound to be a little weird.

Then, I started reading. I still remember the verses so well… doctor, it is like they burned themselves into the very flesh of my mind.

“This sea is cursed, by ancient gods, beings of neither flesh nor blood, light or shade. Atlantis was their home. It is not what we imagine it to be. There is not a grand city below the waves. There is darkness. There is nothing. But there is also something. There is the beings called Atlants. There is the foundation of the world itself.”

I can never forget these phrases, doctor. Never again. As much as I can never forget what I saw on the mission itself.

So, after having read this twisted account of Atlantis, I swiftly returned the book to its place and stumbled out of the building. I had grown rather dizzy and really needed some fresh air.

There was no trace of the young man I had met in that damned building.

All I could think about was to get back to my room and lie down, trying to calm my nerves before the next day came. And so I did.

That night I did not sleep well in the slightest. I tossed and turned in the bed. All I saw in my mind was that one damn word. Atlant. Atlant. Atlant.

So then the morning came and I got ready for the mission. I took a cab to the base we were supposed to meet up at. As I arrived I was briefed and led to my plane. I had already studied the route I was supposed to survey, and despite not having slept a lot, felt rather good about the whole thing. 

Though thinking back on it, doctor, I think it might have been my survival instinct just wanting this done and over with, to return home to safety as quickly as possible.

But the job had to be done properly. I was no slacker, ma’am. Not in the slightest.

I got into the plane and got everything ready for takeoff. Everything worked perfectly, systems green, communication, everything.

So I flew off.

I’ve loved the ocean, you see. The big blue was something so beautiful and soothing to me. But not after what I saw on that day.

Things went well. Everything was the way it was supposed to be, the waves were calm, the weather seemed steady.

It was about halfway into the flight.

The radio said that I’d be arriving at a ship graveyard very soon.

And so I did. 

All kinds of ships, boats, even planes lay there. The water was so clear I could see many of them sleeping there, below the waves.

There were one, two sharks as well, circling the wrecks.

As I watched one of them swim around, I heard a voice inside of my head.

Atlant.

Atlant.

Atlant.

Again, the word circled around in my mind, like a movie scene playing over and over.

Then, I saw it.

Doctor, things are happening at the Bermuda Triangle. Vehicles go missing, the weather is unpredictable, people die.

But it is not how you think it is.

I have seen the truth.

I watched the shark intently. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something submerged next to the shark. I thought it was just another wreck…

It was large. Massive. Easily the size of a mountain.

Ma’am, I didn’t even notice it at first.

I was staring at a face.

A gigantic face below the waves. Tinted blue from the reflecting light, it seemed like it was floating there. It could have been standing, though.

Doctor, you might say I saw a statue, and that’s also what I thought.

Until it looked at me.

It shifted its damn eyes, doctor. Its massive, dead eyes were looking straight into mine. Its face looked so human, but also not at the same time. The thing’s expression was twisted into a horrid smile, eyes wide open, staring. Just fucking staring.

And that’s when I realised, doctor. I realised what was really down there. What Atlantis really was. What an Atlant was. Why these things happened there. I understood everything.

But I cannot remember what exactly I understood back then. All I remember was what I saw and the events that lead up to it, as well as arriving at this facility here. I mean, how could I ever forget?

I want to end this letter with a “thank you” for taking care of me all these years. You’ve really helped me move on from my sister’s death and my own accident. But now I am certain, it is time for us to part ways.

I wish you all the best in your future endeavours, and may your life be long and healthy. I also sincerely hope you never learn the horrors that I have.

As I’m writing these last sentences, I believe I’m starting to remember the things I realised, doctor. And they’re calling me. The sea is calling me.

They’re saying something.

It’s looking through my window.

[sinsofazeroth]

how do i title

Hello hello! So, I thought I’d make a formal post about it, been wanting to do that for a while now but I’m a mess, hehe...

Well, hi! Welcome to my first ever event thingy. I’m a writer specializing in x reader content and headcanons for Shounen Jump fandoms. I’ve decided to properly kick things off, I’ll be taking unlimited requests for the next few days! I really want to improve on my writing and spend more time with it, as well as hopefully earn a little bit off it in the foreseeable future since I’m kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place in life right now.

If you’d like to request me, you can check out my rules and masterlist here!

Again, requests are greatly appreciated, as well as reblogs to spread the word around a bit. It would really help. Hope to read you soon, cheers!

[sinsofazeroth]

To that one person who reblogged by writing: I love you.

[justasignature]

More requests, more Pack Street (yes that is an Al Sundowner), the fishercat detective is the protagonist of Writeyote’s and Clunkbot’s submission, check it out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612329

[t3event]

TT15 - Medieval

33 pictures and 8 fanfics

Older Times, Older Ways by PseudoFox

Josiah's got a task given to him by his elder-- and a dagger to keep him safe along the trip. He'll need it, too: his father befell a terrible fate along these very roads! But does an even worse fate lurk in the shadows of cave? Or is this all a chance meeting in the dark? Can we get a tier list for ne'er-do-wells in how unsympathetic they are?

Text here:

http://pastebin.com/TSx4mZDz

Blind read through here:

https://soundcloud.com/comicanon/olden-times-olden-ways

Shadowbun: A Knight's Hard Work by JackFields

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9558515

Olden Days, Olden Ways

http://pastebin.com/TSx4mZDz

An ode to knot

The ewe was beat, the final fight was fought, And lo, the bun and fox did win the day, Then after hero’s welcome and parade, The time had come for bun to take the knot. How strange this turgid bulb that she now sought, How sweet the whispered promise of this lay, To take it all, if well indeed she may, And to that lewdest precipice be brought. This junction at which fox and bun be join’d, To share with pred in musk and tooth and claw, Then for a moment, stay together locked. The basest of their instincts thus enjoin’d, The heroes, spent, content with what they saw: A blessed union never to be cucked.

The Harvest by nighthound 

A rabbit attends her first harvest festival for the Knights of Grey

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9521381

The Lion’s Share by Writeyote

Hello! It's Writeyote here, with a medieval TT submission! With all this talk of knights in shinning armor, it makes you wonder. How did the peasants live? The feudal society of medieval Zootopia was one of the pyramid, with king above nobles, above knights, above burghers and so forth. At the very bottom of this ladder were the peasant. They were bound to their land, and knew nothing, but the labor of pre-industrial servitude. They owned little, and the land they did farm was administered by the knights. Who were granted titles by nobles, in return for loyalty.

This is were the fourth-field system came into play. The arable land was divided among fourths to the peasantry. Two of these fourths would go to the "greater beasts", be they elephant or buffalo. They would eat well and be provided with rights that the "lesser beasts" would not. The right to join the military as a paid soldier, and to trade goods.

This was because in times of early middle ages, there was massive instability, both external and internal. Barons would revolt, and wars were declared constantly. One needed a standing army of capable mammals to retain authority. So these greater beasts were held higher among the peasant masses, so they would retain loyalty to the rightful king.

At this point you must be wondering about the smaller mammals! You'd be in luck, as the third quarter of these lands were given to the "lesser beasts". These ranged from deer to sheep, and smaller predators such as badgers and foxes. The fields were not proportional to their needs. Many times they would fall to famine much before their greater brethren.

They were much more strictly bound to the land and were forbidden from paid service in the military. If the medieval imagery of dirty peasants comes to mind, these would be your candidates. Life was short and hard and one would be lucky to live past fifty. In many cases the predator sections of these populations, were treated even worse and lived as serfs to their fellow serfs.

Bellow even the lesser beasts, were the viles. The rodents and other small mass reproducing species. They were given the worst section of four quarters and rarely could feed their entire families. Many were reported to live solely on grass and leaves of the trees. It was said they were kept on the land, only for when the barons needed cheap labor in building their projects.

But as times changed the system seemed less and less important. Duchies were replaced by more stable longer term countries, and changes in technology needed less of the greater beasts. Soon, many in the fields were left to wonder why they were given such pitiful lands. Then these thoughts turned to revolts and anger, and many of the great beasts took the blame for the inequality. To this day elephants have a reduced population compared to many other species of their size.

Over time situations did change though. Many say it was gunpowder that finalized these changes. For if a charging knight and his greater beasts could efficiently be brought down by cheaper guns, why bother having them at all? So soon the lesser beasts were given more and more. Following quickly after, the four fields were abolished entirely in many areas. As the rulers chose more efficient systems, many times with higher taxes. The few places were it remained are now well known for the bloody revolts. Think of the years of guillotines or great Bearusscan revolution. And we all know who those turned out.

So next time you think of those stupid dirt peasants. Perhaps you'll see them in a brand new light!

"The Cowards Battle" by High Cow art also by High Cow 997 years ago, in the small village of Wellsbunny, located in the Tri-burrow Area, the hatred between rabbits and foxes was painted with blood and remembered as "The Cowards Battle" or "The Naked Battle" as mammals involved prefer to say. It's one the few pred/prey battles recorded in history, since wars always involved preds and preys on each side. The death of 23 bunnies by the hands of a fox was the peak, and the town (populated mainly by rabbits), decided to exile the foxes to the forest, with death penalty if they refused. After five years of living in the forest, eating bugs and embracing naturalism, the foxes decided to hunt the habitants of Wellsbunny, and started a fire that spreaded trough the entire village. Most preys died that night, and only a group of 3000 bunnies would hide in the woods, most of them elders and females. They only gathered some food and weapons before the fire burned the village. This group of bunnies, knowing that foxes were hunting them for two days now, decided to set the forest on fire and retreat to the village. Fear spreaded in each mammal that morning. Everyone tried to escape from hell, and when they reached the ashes of the village, there was no fear left in both sides, in fact, there was nothing left (not even clothes), but anger and hatred. It's uncertain who won that day. The clues suggest the victorious group went into the remains of the forest, and then disappeared, leaving no trails.

Fury of the Northmammals by Labjer

A heroic feat of strength and endurance that is appreciated by no one important, and not significant to overshadow 100+ siblings doing more moderate tasks.

“Life for a rabbit in the 10th century was a hard and dangerous life in comparison to modern Zootopia. Without labor saving devices, or warm climates for principle beasts of burden, much labor had to be done by hand.”

10th century anglo-saxbun Sarah returns from a hidden garden with a basket laden with turnips and other root vegtables.

“Where villages could not afford to hire larger mammals to plow, or carry good to market, determination and perseverance will have to make do. Leg strength and strong backs were highly prized among rabbit farming communities, as some fertile plots of land could be a fair hike from the burrows themselves.”

Sarah of clan Hopps, a 10th century anglo-saxbun, stops for a rest and a lunch of turnips, carrot slices, and bread before continuing to the burrow.

“For a rabbit on a hike between communities, or making a long trip with produce, portable foods were of great importance. Turnips and radishes were a favorite, along with breads and some hardy cheeses. For wealthy, or orchard tending rabbits, apples were of great value as a treat. Every rabbit farmer would carry a lunch with them when out foraging or checking on hidden gardens, particularly if going alone.”

In a rare bit of providence, Sarah of Clan Hopps discovers a Viking raiding party before they make landfall.

“Around the 10th century, the world was deep into what would later be called the Viking Age. Fearsome raiders from the north, armed with spear and shield, sword and axe, would storm undefended communities for plunder, meat., fur, and thralls. Striking with unheard of violence and lightning speed along what were thought to be un-sailable routes, it was rare that any alarm could be raised in defense of a outlying community. Anglo-Saxbun communities would often be raided as a prelude to more wealthy targets such as Elksh villages. But sometimes, the Wolfmen of the North did not always arrive totally without warning.”

A rabbit can be blisteringly fast in a panic, and given their small size they an run down nearly invisibly small paths in order to bring warnings to a community.

“Early warnings for a raid were painfully rare in medieval times. raiders could strike anywhere along the rivers, and with such a speed that organization would be almost impossible, particularly with small or fearful mammals. Luckily, in this case, warning is raised mere minutes before the vikings land their long ships.”

The burrow in a 10th century anglo-saxbun village was a large communal building for storage, the village leaders, and child raising, while the outlying village was for the farming families.

“In the event of an emergency, all rabbits who could would run to the burrows, to hide in the larders. Those that were in the fields would need to drop tools and come running at full speed. Being mostly underground, the burrow itself was mostly safe, while the outlying village and church would be another story, and would almost certainly be put to the torch.”

With speed being of the utmost importance, a viking longship would have its warriors disembark the moment it touched the shore, running right onto the sandbar.

“A landing from a viking ship would be quick, decisive, and fierce. Often the wolves would howl both for intimidation and coordination just upon landing. Soon, the shores would be filled with raiders surging forward into the undefended community, eager for plunder and blood.”

Sarah desperately arms herself before the wolves are upon the village. Childless, and a widow, she is the only member of her household to be able to take up arms.

“The yeobun was a particular social class of rabbit in the Island Kingdom who were not in service to a master, but free men in exchange for military service. This service would be as scouts, foresters, and skirmishers on campaigns, but in a raid would be the first and only line of defense. Sword and shield and helmet were common, along with long war darts and dart throwers (similar to the llama atlatl) to make up for such a small stature.”

Vikings were effectively monsters towards the undefended towns they raided, often being more effective combatants by full magnitiudes.

“Though not the main cause, a viking raid would cause terror among the populace, with the wolves working to maximize that fear. Villagers such as rabbits were nearly helpless in the face of such cruelty, and as fire would engulf homes, blades would bite flesh, and valuables be stripped from corpses, it was as to the Christian rabbits as divine punishment for a sinful world.”

Two Anglo-Saxbuns are carted off by the Vikings, one as a thrall, and the other for meat and fur.

“Thralls were taken in raids, along with the corpses of the slain. Living rabbits could tend fields, care for livestock, and work as servants in wolf dens. Corpses were good for furs, along with meat. Pagan as they were, vikings were not taken to eating those that passed away from natural causes. Only the flesh of mammals who had died in battle were worthy of consumption, and raids would make great use of that.”

A hasty battle plan is formed to repulse the invaders, something that would not have been possible if not for the early warning.

“A defense of the burrow, when it could be managed, would come from surprise and at range. Rabbits typically did not have the stomach for fighting in closed ranks, nor the strength to go toe to tow with wolves. As such, flanking and lighting strikes from networks of hidden tunnels would be favored above all else.”

Rabbits prefer attacking from surprise whenever possible, and are liable to break ranks and flee unless defending their homes.

“The defenders of a rabbit village would be fighting for nothing less than survival. A raid might not destroy all life, but the fields set ablaze would certainly invite famine. Warriors would fight tooth and nail from their tunnels, hoping to drive the invaders back to the sea. Even then, rabbit morale is a tenuous thing, ready to snap at any moment.”

A furore Normannorum libera nos, Domine.

“Having taken what they could, and left before too many losses of their own could be taken (if any) the vikings would depart a gutted, burnt out town with ships filled with the living and the dead, and the riches of Chrisendom. Back to homes and families, the raiders would be in high spirits. But those left behind would have to face a greater, more subtle threat than raiders, the upcoming winter.” “And yet, This Too Shall Pass In Time.”

The author, posing with a replica viking sword from her personal collection.

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