#wrote most of this at 2 am

[vivid-bad-brainrot]

Present Apologies, Belated Apologies

Akito & Kohane

➔ After costing Vivid BAD SQUAD a win at a battle event, Akito’s guilt is evident but he’ll keep it inside himself to feign strength around others. Well, that’s what he would have done if Kohane wasn’t so adamant that he shouldn’t be sorry.

★ Wordcount: 2,129

☆ Fic takes place earlier in canon, probably a bit after bout for beside you

★ /p, can be interpreted as /r if you please

“Shinonome-kun, you always tell me I apologize too much but…” Kohane fumbled around with her fingers, attempting to find the right words to say, as if she were treading a tightrope rather than solid pavement. She met his gaze again, “I do find it a little hard to take you seriously when you do it even more. The thing is, you don't expect forgiveness. At all.”

Akito nearly stopped in his tracks entirely, “What?”

She smiled at him sheepishly with a subtle shrug, “I just…I don’t think you’ve said a sentence without the word ‘sorry’ in it since we left the venue.”

“Well, I am.” He huffed, looking at the road ahead of them again. “I totally screwed things up back there. Is this you trying to take the blame for it? I told you to stop doin’ that.”

His steps were undoubtedly heavier on the ground, it wouldn’t take a genius to notice that. With a grunt, he attempted to fix his composure so as to not look weak. Of all people, he didn’t want Kohane to see that side of him.

It had been strange lately. Kohane was his fuel, watching her improve so rapidly pushed him to reach for greater heights. Despite their differences in experience, oddly enough Akito felt this need to…impress her? No, not that. He wanted her to see him just as he saw her; someone who’s resolve was infectious, someone who you couldn’t bear to imagine pursuing your passions without.

Along with her developed confidence, Kohane had also grown unrelenting with time. With that, a sprinkle of stubbornness was always sprinkled into her speech. “It’s not fair of you to take the fall.”

“Well, who’s fault is it?” He attempted to keep his tone level. The last thing he wanted to do was to lash out at her. Kohane didn’t deserve that, just like he didn’t deserve her. How she somehow stayed by his side (even if it was just because of Vivids and BAD DOGS merging) despite how much of a prick he used to be towards her was beyond him. Kohane was the type of person he didn’t think had ever gotten angry in her life. He thought it would be good for her. Especially if she got mad at him. It was something that would suit him right.

“No one’s!” Kohane tried, sounding a little desperate. Screw Akito and his awful perception, sometimes he didn’t want to be able to tell what others thought about him. Sometimes, he hated that he even cared about trivial things like that in the first place. Those kinds of worries wouldn’t bring him any closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. They anchored him in the past.

He sort of regretted offering to walk her home after the event. Kohane lived the furthest away from Vivid Street out of them, closer to Miyamasuzaka for reasons that probably had to do with the proximity to her school and all. This meant that Kohane had ample time to refuse to accept his apologies. And it gave him an even longer time to mull over things.

As they reached a crosswalk and waited for their signal to cross, Kohane tugged on his sleeve to garner his attention, as if it was on anyone but her in the first place. The look on her face was so sincere, Akito honestly thought his self loathing was warping how he processed things. She should be mad at him. “Shinonome-kun…If it were me who had made that mistake during the show, what would you say to me?”

His voice had cracked during one of his solo parts, at the end of the prechorous where the hype had the strongest potential energy. It was so obvious, too, that he felt as if BROWN simply shouldn’t have let him in there in the first place. As a result of his complete blunder, it had costed Vivid BAD SQUAD their victory and shattered their winstreak.

The MCs would always set Vivid BAD SQUAD up as these teenage hotshots who’s talent rivaled long-time performers. In the couple months they’d been a team, they’d already built a name for themselves. Everyone had to do their part to uphold it. It was that reputation that allowed them to get into more famous livehouses were they could stand on the stage and walk in the footprints of the legends who had built Akito’s dream up from the bottom simply with the memories they had paved Vivid Street with. He couldn’t go out and destroy it, make them look like a liability to certain livehouses. Maybe a part of him was somehow attatched to the time he and Touya had spent performing together as BAD DOGS, when all sorts of livehouses would invite them to perform as some sort of sick comedy routine. To see some kids try to perform, expectations unfairly low.

Music was more of a battlefield than the soccer field could ever be. Music had taught him how to fight. It wasn’t until he had found Vivid BAD SQUAD and the vocaloids that it had taught him how to love.

Noticing how he completely zoned out, Kohane seized his wrist lightly (although he was sure she was holding him as tight as she could muster) and pretty much pulled him across the crosswalk. Oh, he needed to stop his pity party right now, because at this point Kohane was practically walking him to her house—not the other way around. He couldn’t waste her time like that.

They turn a corner, onto the street where Kohane lived. He hadn’t answered her question yet, but she wasn’t at all pushy. Not expectant that he answer it right away and still not mad at him for some reason.

If it were Kohane who had made his mistake…

“I would tell you to tough it out.” Akito said simply, “And not to go so hard on yourself if you were upset about it.”

“You would say that me,” She grinned at him and held her hands behind her back curtly, brown eyes nearing amber in the gold of the setting sun, “You’d say the same thing to An-chan and Aoyagi-kun, and you’d still find a way to shift the blame over to yourself.”

Akito halted and turned to face her entierly. He probably looked like he was drowning on air. Maybe it would have been better if he was.

“Why cant those words apply to yourself as well?” Kohane asked. “Why do you have to be sorry?”

“Because I…uhm—” Akito suddenly hated the fact he decided to wear so many layers. They had never felt so suffocating or that they were heavy with absorbed sweat (ew). He wavered for a few moments.

Now that he thought about it, usually he’s the one being blunt about the other person's problems, like An’s. She had been so stressed out about Kohane, so Akito decided it was his apparent right to help her discover how she actually felt about it all. But now, it’s as if the roles were reversed and now he was the one getting a slap in the face of a reality he hadn’t realized he’d be living in.

Hypocrite.

And it was Kohane who was telling him all of this. He never looked at Kohane—back when they had first met and she had her hair long and his face was in a permanent scowl—and ever once though they’d actually grow this close. Where they’d be having this conversation and Azusawa Kohane of all people could read him like a book. He didn’t even wear his heart on her sleeve like she did; she just knew him. A part of that was terrifying.

“I just….” He trailed off, at a loss.

“I hope it’s not coming off like I’m trying to dictate your emotions or anything—It’s really important to feel things!—I want you to know…it’s not just your burden anymore.”

“So, why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Eh?”

“Kohane, you have every right to be angry at me,” Akito breathed, looking down at the sidewalk under them. “I don’t understand…why you’re so good to me.”

Kohane’s face wrinkled in confusion as she tilted her head at him.

“I never apologized for being an asshole to you, when I questioned your resolve every chance I got. I never apologized to you for calling you a shrimp and all those other things. You deserve so many apologies. It’s why I tell you not to apologize to me over stupid things. ‘Cause I should be the one apologizing to you instead.”

Kohane blinked. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Im sorry for everything—“

“Shinonome-kun.” She said firmly, sending an unfamiliar jolt up and down his body. She placed her hands on his shoulders and huffed, “When you said all those things to me, that wasn’t the you I know now. And, um, if you ask me, you said those words to a completely different person, too.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything I did, though.” Akito protested, and Kohane shook her head.

“You and An-chan are always preaching about moving forward, right? ”

“Yes…” Then, Akito realized, “Oh.”

He wasn’t the type to get so in his head about little things—especially if they were far behind him. But Kohane…she brought out this side of himself he hadn’t realized existed…or maybe the parts of himself he had been trying to shut out. He was a big proponent of the idea that if you couldn’t go back in time to change things…there was no point in worrying that much about it. Like most things, it was far easier said than done.

“Besides,” Kohane removed her hands from his shoulders at last with a heavy breath. She ran a finger through a pigtail, “I think I forgave you the moment I cut my hair.”

Kohane started walking again so Akito followed along like a lost puppy. They stepped onto her front porch just as the sun dipped under the horizon.

“Will your parents be angry that you’re coming home so late?” He asked, knowing it was his fault for keeping her out later than necessary. “Touya’s dad gets real pissy when he’s out late, so…”

“They’re used to it by now.” Kohane replied with an airy laugh, bending down to lift the doormat up and grab the key from under it. “My dad says for every hour past curfew I stay up, I owe him one picture with my camera.”

“Oh.” Akito scratched his nape. “I’m sorry for keeping you for so long.”

“Shinonome-kun, it’s really rude to ignore everything I’ve been saying.” She crosses her arms indignantly, but her face tells a completely other story; a lighthearted one.

He didn’t know why after all of this, he still wanted to tell her ‘no’.

So close to the door, they might as well be stalling time to stay in each other's gazes, like it was an honor to be embraced by the attention of the other. “Even if you forgave me…that doesn’t mean I deserve to be forgiven.”

“You do.” She said earnestly. “When it first happened, I really…was hurt by it all. But, we both watched each other as we grew into better people. And I hope we continue to do that by each other’s sides.”

She looked down, suddenly shy and twiddled with the key in her hands, watching the porch-light be reflected on the metalic material. “I really admire you, Shinonome-kun. So, I want you to be able to forgive yourself as well. Can you promise me you’ll try to do that?”

I admire your courage to be so forgiving, he thought, but settled with, “I’ll try. I…” he wasn’t the best at verbally communicating how he felt, so he probably sounded strained as he told her, “I admire you as well.”

She looked a little surprised. Even he was a little bit. He was normally as blunt as a knife, but when it came to…emotions, his edge was dulled with ease.

“That settles it, then.” Kohane decided. She opened her arms up, but quickly glued them at her sides with the flush of her cheeks.

“Go ahead,” He said, even though he felt a little embarrassed at the prospect of giving someone the clear to hug him. Kohane echoed his feelings, but eventually wrapped him into a hug. Huh. It was a little strange they’d never hugged before…

Instead of saying sorry, he uttered a small, “Thank you,” Into the crown of her hair. “For giving me a chance to grow as well.

She whispered into his shoulder, “I think you’ve been feeling really guilty for a really long time.”

“Maybe.”

“At the end of the day, we’re not that different from each other. We both just want to prove ourselves. It drives you mad, too, doesn’t it?”

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ DEVOTION ꒱ OKKOTSU YUUTA X READER

cw: mdni. yandere yuuta. alcohol mention. implied drugging. implied noncon. a/n: a quick elaboration of this thought (yuuta is the king of gaslighting).

There’s a hickey on your inner thigh.

It’s a conclusion you arrived at as you pulled on a pair of fresh underwear this morning; there’s no other way to explain the amaranthine bloom on the supple (and otherwise unmarred) flesh. The spot is tender to the touch—its sensitivity proof that it’s indeed fresh.

Yuuta listens thoughtfully when you bring up the suspicious mark, nodding periodically as you walk him through your concerns.

Rubbing your temples, you sigh. “I’m just confused, Yuu, because we didn’t fuck last night.”

“We didn’t make love, no. We both had a bit to drink and fell asleep before anything could happen.”

“So—” you point to the mottled skin “—what’s this?”

He leans closer to inspect the mark. Jet strands fall across his vision, and he pushes his hair back when he sits up. “Honestly? It looks like a bruise to me.”

“But my bruises are never this color,” you frown.

“A bug bite, maybe?”

You shake your head. “My skin isn’t raised and it doesn’t itch.”

After a few beats of silence, you clear your throat. “Yuuta. You didn’t, um…” Your eyes flit your boyfriend’s, and you get lost in the serenity of his gaze—the slow swell of the sea on a hazy day. He looks at you sincerely, without any judgement or frustration; you can’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be accusatory; I’m just at a loss.”

He smiles softly with a tilt of his head (it’s your favorite expression of his—one that’s etched into your memory). He spreads a palm across your thigh, his thumb gently stroking the spot in question. “I want you to feel comfortable saying anything you want to me. I’m your safe space.”

Your heart swells at his words. He’s too good for you, truly.

He continues, “Maybe it’s just a fluke. As long as it heals, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

You nod. “I’m not sure why I was so worked up. It seems silly, now. Thank you, Yuu.”

Yuuta wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace; you bury your face into his chest with a contented sigh. He rubs your back, trying not to think back to last night, willing his cock to behave. But he can’t stop replaying the highlights in his mind: the little pill he slipped you when you weren’t looking, your precious snores as he spread you out on the bed, and your angelic expression as he had his way with you, leaving a surprise on your thigh—

A mark of his devotion.

[morgaseus]

Sunday has you wrapped around his finger.

You love the man too much to even second guess him. Yet it is not him that you swore your oath to but to the family and the harmony. To harbor something other than disgust to a traitor, a follower of the Order at that, is tantamount to a sin, borderline blasphemous. He's always been virtuous, dedicated in upholding his duties for the family and the whole of penacony. You feel a dull aching emanating from the cavity of your chest; You'd never guessed he was the traitor all along. 

When you caught him in the middle of escaping from his cell, along with the wine purple haired woman- Kafka, a stellaron hunter, you surmised, you've seen her posters plastered in walls enough for you to recognize her anywhere. They’re recruiting him, you think. They're taking him away. Your mind tells you to uphold your duties as a member of the family. He’s a traitor to the family- to the harmony. He tried to usurped Lord Xipe! Your heart (aches to see him go, to leave you) tells you to let him go. To let him live, to experience everything for himself. 

You've always been the family's dog, always following their orders as if you were merely born for them and not for yourself. But this time, you decided to choose for yourself.

You let the halovian go. You clenched your hand, crescent shapes left at its wake. You don’t want him to leave, you never want him to leave because that would mean you would no longer see him. But if he were to stay here.. If he were to stay here, the family will capture him, hand him over to the IPC for trial (he will most likely be found guilty), imprison him until he rots in prison, until he serves his sentence. You don’t want that, you will never want that for him. Sunday has been nothing but kind to you. He treats you as if you were the most precious and fragile thing in the whole asdana system. He makes you feel, wanted, needed, loved. Even if you think his words were lies. So, you think, that is the best possible outcome.

He lived his whole life believing the sickly sweet poison instilled to him by the dreammaster (You’ve always thought there was something wrong with Mr. Gopher Wood). Nobody really sees how his left hand, that he always keeps at his back, would clench his right arm. Nobody sees how many nights he had to stay up, worrying, wondering, who could've killed his sister, why they killed her. Nobody- nobody sees his struggles. All they know is that he's sunday- the perfect, meticulous oak family leader. Sunday the traitor. Sunday the order’s remnant. He needs this. He needs another chance. So, you decided to let him go. Maybe then, he would learn to live for his sake. 

[quinn-pop]

let’s do some autistic meta knight headcanons!! over explaining my interpretation of meta knight yet again wooooo

this orb has NO idea how to talk to people!!! outside of work anyway. a lot of this is partially due to upbringing (suppressing his emotions all the time) but he does not know how to express emotions, like…at all.

this goes into a few things

1. yeah talking is hard. even after figuring out what he wants to communicate he will struggle. conversation can be so overwhelming, especially under pressure. he will need time lol

2. because of that, forming connections is hard. i really don’t think meta is much for shallow relationships, and certainly not early in the timeline. which also means he has very little experience with friendship. so a lot of the relationships he did have went kinda neglected, and issues that probably could’ve been worked on by talking became…*cough romk* escalated.

3. honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if meta convinced himself he couldn’t feel emotion (anymore) until like. katam-ish. he tried very hard lol

vulnerability is terrifying. (though this gesture here is also just comforting, like his little cape cocoon thing he does.)

unmasking—yeah im taking the mask thing very literally here—is a big deal and a very slow process for mk. i’m sure he has a lot of feelings on that lol. it served as a way to ensure no one could ever, y’know, see him.

i can’t say i think he’d ever fully ditch it—there’s always gonna be some days that are more stressful than others and if having it could help him get through it, it just makes sense. mainly when working.

it really is about vulnerability. granted, i don’t think he has the most expressive face (in my head every astral just tends to stare at things) but i doubt he has much control over it. can’t fake a smile but also can’t hide it. probably blushes easy because yeah, astrals; just look at kirby’s face.

just the idea that someone might be able to read his expression and know what he’s feeling before he’s ready for them to (or even understands it himself…) yeah he doesn’t want that

but emotional turmoil aside, i think his mask also hides a lot of his stims

remember that whole “suppressing your feelings” thing? yeah turns out that ignoring half your instincts isn’t a good idea. so in true meta knight style, he tries to stim as subtly as possible

1. he has the least control over his wings, so they will flick and twitch on their own. they’re usually a good indicator of how he’s feeling, not unlike the body language usually seen in cat ears and tails lol. flapping is also an extension of this of course, though he probably suppresses it more.

2. this also effects when he takes his wings out. pretty much every time he’s excited or nervous it just happens. kinda makes me wonder if his wing cape ordeal might also go into the suppression thing… (i’d say yes, but using a cape is also very comforting so it’s not necessarily a bad thing)

3. going back to the mask thing; he stims a lot underneath it. think like biting or pursing your lips. he bites his tongue and clicks his mouth. that sort of thing. his mask also makes it harder to notice that he is constantly sighing, humming, grumbling…all that

one nice thing about the mask though is that it helps a little bit with lights!!! woo

(look at him and his magically floating glasses)

sensory stuff—i think he’s mostly bothered by light and sound. maybe a bit of texture. he’s pretty sensory avoidant and perfectly happy standing off to the side not touching anything.

the one exception to this is physical affection, which is, despite all of this, most of how he shows affection. it’s a lot easier to hug someone than to try to explain your feelings for them, after all.

i think he would like pressure though. so that’s probably part of it. and i’m pretty sure there’s some connection in here to fighting (dang, is that the only way he knows how to get his energy out?)

anyway, pretty much all of this is in contrast to kirby, who i would gladly nominate as the champion of Doing Whatever He Wants. he might pick up a few bad habits, but he will never mask the way meta knight does. he might not understand how he feels, but he’s in tune enough to express it…usually.

this is a very good thing for meta because it helps him to do the same thing. kirby’s so energetic, it’s hard to not want to stim with him. it reminds meta to be kinder to himself and explore his own emotions. he can also help kirby understand themselves, so this connection is very important.

yeah, at the end of the day, everything kinda just boils down to kirby and mk as parallels

this is the conclusion i promise

to me, meta’s arc is about growing stronger by growing kinder, and this is mostly by learning to be kind to himself. letting himself be a person again, loving and understanding other people, and eventually, letting go of all the expectations placed on him and doing the things he’s always wanted to do…

autism headcanons are fun for me because it’s cathartic to write, but at the same time, it just makes sense in this sort of narrative. meta is, to me, inseparable from these things. and so is kirby! that’s a dynamic that’s a lot of fun to play with, and it’s at the heart of my kirby interpretation.

if you actually read all this WOW thank you

[poppy-s-rampage]

Chapter 2: Welcome to Gotham!

Warnings: A little bit of blood, breakdown and emotional distress.

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Chapter 1! | Masterpost | Chapter 3!

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After finally closing up the last wound, Clockwork took a moment to look over his work. All of the young Halfa’s wounds have been sealed and treated with diluted ectoplasm. It was only enough to make the injuries look a week old at best but it will have to do.

The Ancient lifted his staff and in one swift movement ripped a hole in the fabric of reality. CW then carefully cradled Danny in his arms. Then both the Ancient and the Halfa stepped into the portal.

On the other side, they were met with an emaciated woman clad in a red and black Victorian dress accompanied by a small rose decorated matching hat. In her hand a small umbrella made of lace and what seemed to be black clouds. 

Her delicate snow white skin furrowed by ink black veins. Her blood red lips striking against the pallor of her face were pursed in worry. Her eyes, even while covered by her laced black veil, didn’t hide her apprehension.

The woman’s dress’s neckline was fashioned in the silhouette of a bat. Pearls scattered like falling stars across the red and black folds of the garment. Her waist encased in a tight bodice was embellished by small golden coins and feathers. The red fishtail spilling on the ground lazily trailing after its mistress.

The woman bowed her head, greeting the Ancient and his charge.

“Lord Clockwork.” Her raspy yet somehow suave voice resonated into the night.

“Lady Gotham.” He responded while slightly dipping his head down.

The city spirit glanced at the boy in the other’s arm. His bandaged form and torn clothes were not what first captured her attention. What truly horrified her was the state of the young Halfa’s core. Wrapped and cracked, barely a breath away from breaking and ceasing to exist.

Her own aching at the view, screaming at her to take the boy, wrap him in a bundle of blankets and nurse/guard him until at full health.

Being ended was reserved to the lowest of the low. It was a last resort that should only be used should the offender be irredeemable and too dangerous to be contained. To think that this almost happened and still could to her own king and one so young.

It was nauseating.

Lady Gotham forced herself to look away, turning her attention back to Clockwork.

“I assume he is the charge you want to bring into my care.”

“He is.” Clockwork responded.

The woman nodded, the smoke and black clouds in her umbrella spreading around her.

“Then if you will follow me.”

Lady Gotham faded and became one with the smog. The black mass zooming towards Midtown Gotham, the ancient of time on its heels.

They soon arrived in front of a small but clean apartment building. The two ghosts phased through the wall of the top floor only to be greeted by the view of a spacious yet cozy loft.

The unit was furnished with all the necessary furniture, non-ecto-contaminated food already stocked in the fridge. The space was designed in order to facilitate Daniel’s recovery. The boy would already be going through hell with his recovery and grief; it was best not to add insult to injury.

The city spirit having taken back physical form, leads Clockwork towards the bed on the second floor of the loft.

Once inside, the Ancient carefully sets Danny down on the bed and slowly covers him with a soft blanket. He then produced a pen and a neon green notepad from who knows where and started writing.

Lady Gotham approached the ghost.

“Lord ClockWork, pardon my intrusion, but wouldn’t it be best for you to explain the situation to the young king face to face.”

Clockwork paused.

“Young Daniel is too unstable to be dealing with the emotional distress my presence would bring. He has been hurt enough as it is.”

“Those excuses are nothing but the words of a coward.”

“Pardon me?”

“You are not. Are you truly running away in order to protect the boy or are you doing so to save yourself?”

“…”

“Tell me, Lord Clockwork. When the young king awakens, would he prefer to be met with an insincere apology letter from a coward or the genuine words of a man admitting to his mistakes?”

Clockwork couldn’t even utter a word.He didn’t have any excuse to defend himself. The city spirit was right.

“Your words are as sharp as ever, old friend.”

“I speak nothing but the truth, Master of Time. However, it seems to me that you are already set on your decision.”

“I-”

“I hope in your interest that you made the right choice.” The Lady snapped.

The woman turned away but not without leaving a few departing words.

“Or that at least you are prepared to face the consequences.”

Lady Gotham disappeared in a whirlwind of smog.

Clock work turned back to Daniel watching as his face scrunched up when the old ghost brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

His old core flared with parental love.

He looked so peaceful, as if nothing ever went wrong. However, In just a few hours, he would wake up and reality would come crashing down.

His bright and joyous protegee. The one he couldn’t help but adore every version of. The one he subconsciously adopted as his own child.

Clockwork couldn’t. He just couldn’t bring himself to face the hatred and pain his pupil would inevitably direct at him.

Gotham was right.

The Master of Time set down the notepad on the night table

He was a coward.

—-------

*A few hours later*

As the first few rays of sunshine broke through Gotham’s thick smog, a young black and white haired boy slowly woke up from his slumber.

It was comfortable, the soft fluffy blanket brushing against his achy skin. The warmth that comes with being cocooned in the safety of your own bed. Danny didn’t want to open his eyes. But he needed to wake up, in just a few moments Jazz would come knocking at his door to drag him to school.

The soft familiar knock never came, but the memories sure did.

Danny snapped his eyes open. Tears threatening to fall.

Clockwork -LiaR- ,the reveal, the capture -BeTraYaL-, the experiments -PaIN-, Jazz, Sam, Tucker,-PAINPAINPAIN mY FauLT- the wails, blood, explosion, death -MurDEreR!-, pain, Core breaking, burning, melting- PAIN PAIN PAIN! I ShOuLD be DeAD!-.

The Halfa now fully awake kicked the blanket enveloping him away and tried to get out of the bed.

His legs still injured and unable to support his weight gave out and he collapsed on the wooden floor in a heap.

The sharp pain of jolting his injuries and face planting further cemented to Danny that he wasn’t dreaming and that the nightmare was fully real.

“...no…NONONONONONO! Please, no! Please! I BEG YOU! PLEASE! JAZZ, TUCK, SAM PLEASE! DONT BE REAL! PLEASE!” Danny tried to say, but the only thing that came out were erratic breaths that could vaguely be associated with words. His damaged throat made it impossible to even breathe without it flaring in pain.

Choked and pained sobs filled the once silent room.

The young Halfa still collapsed on the floor cried , slowly curling up on himself hugging his knees.

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Chapter 1! | Masterpost | Chapter 3!

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See you next time!

[rosescarletful]

Written for For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list. All great inspiration, I had a blast writing this! Take this *throws Eclipse at you.

Drabble name: Tireless Work Brings May Flowers

Contents: Canon Eclipse x Reader, yn is a mechanic, post fire au.

Chosen words: Clouds, honeydew, bonfire, hope, celebration.

Word Count: 2185

Day fifteen. You wipe the grease from your brow and exhale, turning screws back into place. This isn’t the first time you have had to fix this circuit, nor will it be the last, but you persevere this way regardless. 

You plug in the animatronic to your wall, press a switch in his open chest, and wait, leaning over his face plate to hold him.

“Hi sweetie.” You coo to him. His optics are black, and you do not know if he hears you, but you will talk to him this way regardless, just like you did back then. You’re not sure who it is, really, Sun or Moon. They merge perfectly in this form, his hat you stitched up piece by piece dangling over the table and his rays carefully mended.

“I fixed one of your core wires. It blew out again - this should be a better piece now.” You lament your limited access to good parts, but if Faz caught wind that you stole one of their own, they would probably hunt you down real quick. You would never see him again, and that's not something you can bear. The fire already made your heart break and weep enough.

You found him lying there, smoking from the bonfire. He was posed reaching for the entrance, clothes almost entirely burnt off. You wept and gathered him up, pressing apologies upon apologies into his metal. How scared they must have been, under the pressure of the burning heat.

You trace a finger on a ray, pushing it gently to rotate. You miss when Sun span his rays when he saw you, making wave patterns to make you laugh. “Should be any day now.” You comment, trying to hold it together as he fails to boot up again. Something sparks down by his leg, and you take a deep breath. 

It's alright, the world is not ending. Something is preventing them from booting up, and you just need to figure out why. 

Day twenty eight. You know you are getting closer because they do not spark anymore, at least. So far, he gets to his optic lights flickering, then powers off again, so you are so close you can taste it. 

“It's a beautiful day out today.” You hum, opening the blinds. A sunbeam shines on his chassis, you hope he can feel some of the warmth, or at least know the sun is there. “I hope we can have a picnic soon. Remember? I said I'd show you, and Moon pinched my cheek making fun of me. You can’t leave, he said. But I said I'd figure it out.” You type rapidly at your computer, going through his code line by line. The answer to his failed boot up, or at least why the sun does not change their appearance, is in here. You are sure of it.

Day forty five. You rest your head in your hands next to your attendant, taking slow, deep breaths. You will not give up, no matter what, but you feel frustrated close to tears. Fixing the code isn’t working, and there’s nothing theoretically wrong with their body, yet they won’t wake up. 

You pick your head up and rest it in your hands, just staring at him. “I won’t stop.” You mutter. He has to know you aren’t letting this setback stop you. What if they are listening in there? Stuck? It would be a living hell to you, so you refuse to leave them in any capacity. 

You stand, stretching and cracking your spine. You can, although the memory is getting a little hazy, remember Sun reprimanding you about your posture, so you straighten up.

No, don’t think like that. He will wake up. You are a decent mechanic and you will get to see them again. There is no other outcome.

You wonder what they think of you, working tirelessly. You harbor your silly feelings in yourself, too afraid to say anything. 

Day fifty arrives with little fanfare. You are a little worse for wear, eye bags heavy from long nights and constant work. You have him sitting up, trying something new with the cables on the back of his head. You are petrified to touch his motherboard, but as the weeks dragged on, you are running out of options. 

“You know, soon, I can get some boots for you so you can stomp in puddles. I think both of you would like that.” The rain beats heavy against the window, muffling the world outside. You would give anything to sit with either of them on your porch, just watching the storm. “Maybe a poncho. Do they make ponchos nine feet tall?” You snort at your own joke, carefully soldering the pins connecting the wires. 

Once done, you lay him back down, and plug him into the wall. Again, you press the button, leaning over his face plate once more. “Okay. Give me something sweetie. Anything.” You stare at him intently, eyes flicking over his body rapidly. Like always, his fingers twitch, core beginning to boot up. His optics turn on, flickering, but then the whole body shuts off right after.

You curl your fingers. You’ve increased the electric output way more than what should be necessary, so why is this happening? 

You go back over to the plug, inspecting it. The storm booms horribly outside, but you pay no mind to it. 

Is it your electric output? You think you would cry for a whole day if this all amounted to not enough power. But, you have checked this outlet countless times, even got a power maximized for it. Nothing. 

Lighting strikes close. “Don’t worry.” You say out loud. You would be worried if you had never heard a storm before, too. “It will pass. I'm gonna try the startup sequence one more time, okay?” You take a breath, and plug it back in.

You are thrown back, shouting in pain. Electricity shoots up your arm, and you shake, almost biting your tongue. “What the hell!” You shout, shaking your head. 

No. Your heart stops for a second, because that was plugged into your friend!

You scrabble to your feet, choking. This can’t be it. All your hard work can’t end here. Oh god the hard drive could be fried! You could have a smoking motherboard, never to see them again! You watch in horror as he spasms, electricity coursing through the body.

You lean over him, assessing any damage. His internals look okay, and you don’t smell smoke. Instead, you watch with fear turned rapidly building hope as his optics turn online, electricity turning the gears in his internals. 

You hold your breath, praying to anything that could be listening. “Sun? Moon?” You call, shaking with adrenaline. Anything, please. Just let him wake up.

Slowly, pinpricks turn on, and he blinks one. You almost start sobbing.

Abruptly, he sits up, rays popping in and out of his face plate. “Happy birthday!” He cheers, in a voice that does not sound like either of your friends. Your watery smile falters. Who…is this?

“Happy..birthday?” You echo, unsure. He seems to light up brightly, swinging his feet to the side. At least mobility is okay. You are so shocked, you aren’t sure how to react. 

He calls your name, startling you out of your thoughts. “Still us.” One voice, low and soothing. “Still us!” Another cheer, light and airy. 

You can’t help it, you break down in sobs right there. You throw your arms around his neck, shaking and trembling. “Oh, thank god. You’re here, you’re alive, you…merged?” You ask. He wraps arms around you, and you could cry from how gently he holds you. You thought that this form was some kind of safety protocol, when the day and night cycles got messed up. Apparently not.

“Yes! My name is Eclipse.” His tone is cheerful and bright, yet warm and slow with an even cadence. He really is both of your friends. “Don’t cry, starshine! We’re back in tip top shape, thanks to you!” You press your wobbly lips together, overjoyed. 

He lifts a hand, holding your cheek. You pick up your head to face him, ugly crying as you are. He holds you everywhere, touching your sides, your hair, your legs. Like he is memorizing you.

“We’re so happy it was you fixing us. You’re perfect, just perfect.” He hums, rubbing thumbs on your face. This new version of your friends is very…affectionate! “Ah, we could hear you, as well. Everything.” He says dreamily. Your face flushes, but you are so glad you assumed that they could. “Even the anime updates.” A deeper voice grouses. You choke out a laugh, bubbling up from deep within your chest. He stares at you intently, optics flicking over your face.

“Let's do that right now.” He says abruptly. You tilt your head. “Sit in the storm. That sounds like a lovely idea! We can watch the ever moving blanket of clouds, with our favorite mechanic!” Arms reach out to hoist you up, and you squeak, patting his chest to stop.

“Wait! Wait! You need to go through diagnostics first! Hold on!

Your life changes like the flip of a card, with Eclipse. He is so happy to do anything with you, whether that be finally showing your friends anime, cooking, or just sitting next to you, buzzing in a way that can only be considered purring. 

You were a little worried that your friends would fade away, merged like this, but that could not be farther from the case. Your morning walks are exclusively with Sun, his higher pitched voice and straight posture show his control. The rays shrink almost into his head with Moon, who fights you in video games and hums to you sometimes, when he thinks you are asleep.

Eclipse however, is very…hands on. You have a very hard time saying no, those feelings you shoved deep inside of you overjoyed at getting to touch freely. You can’t break this easy camaraderie that the two of you have, but lately you can’t stop thinking about kissing his silly face. What would it be like? Would they take turns, or just kiss you as Eclipse? You wouldn’t mind either way.

When he is stable enough, and you are sure he isn’t going to keel over outside, you take your friend on that promised picnic. You bring food for yourself, some tools just in case, and a fluffy blanket. 

The day is crisp and shining, Eclipse watching in fascination as his steps sink into the ground. His gaze darts around, taking in the birds, trees, and a deer running off in the distance. Your heart swells, feeling like you won the lottery as his rays sink into his face plate to spin rapidly. “Up that hill.” You direct, carrying your things up with you.

You two sit under a tree, enjoying the sunshine. He points out every day things to you, like a squirrel staring at him intently, like the cloud formed in the shape of a fish. A smile is stuck to your face, nodding along. You celebrate every new instance, overjoyed.

“Toldja.” You remark, gesturing to your set up. “I promised. This is a good old fashioned picnic!” He scoots closer to you, picking you up bodily and placing you in his lap, hugging you. Jeez! He doesn’t have the same boundaries as a human, but give a person a warning!

“Eclipse!” You shout, squirming in his lap. He rumbles in his voice box, pulling you to his chest, resting his face plate on your shoulder. “That's better..” He gives you a squeeze, fans whirring in his chest. 

“Actually..” Sun’s voice cuts in. “It's missing one key part.” You turn, trying to see what he’s talking about. Instead, he presents a flower to you, a tulip in fresh bloom. “For you.” Moon’s voice rasps, and presses it into your hair, over your ear. You touch it, in wonder. 

“Thank you, that's so sweet of you.” You get your knees under you and turn, greeted by a tender look on Eclipse’s face plate.

“This is a new emotion for us.” Eclipse starts. You blink. “But what we do know is that we would have no other. You are precious to us, honeydew, and we hope you feel the same.” Your face turns red as a tomato, sputtering. He leans closer. “Would you be ours?” The voices break Eclipse’s steady cadence, both of them speaking at once. 

“Do you…do you know what you’re asking? To be together, that's more than just friends.” It's okay if they don't understand. You are content to be this way - 

“Yes.” They answer firmly. “We know what being partners is. We want that. We want everything with you, whatever you will give us. Your hopes, your fears, love, as well.” Your lip wobbles. This is something you could only dream of, working on them tirelessly.

Shakily you nod. “Yes. Yes, please. Yes.” He pulls you in for a kiss, fans so loud you can hear his chest rumbling.

You share a kiss that is all encompassing, pressing your hands to his chest.

A new beginning, a new love.

Fin.

[clowningaroundmars]

punkflower hcs bc i need to see more of them being cute teen boys together.... like, playful and creative and stuff

looong long wall of text under the cut (no nsfw)

♡ miles and hobie definitely exchange art often, even collabing on some punk zines and graffiti pieces occasionally. hobie also makes mixtapes on cassettes and slaps a million stickers on them just for his bf. miles appreciates the kind gesture but reminds hobie that he doesnt have a cassette player. "yet," hobie tells him with a wink :)

♡ miles draws a million little doodles for hobie on scrap paper, post it notes, hobie's gear, hobie himself. ofc hobie loves them all, esp when he gets to go home with his arms and chest covered in stars, cartoons, graffiti, and hearts

♡ miles is a lot more shy about dancing in public than hobie is, but whenever they manage to have any downtime at all hobie will wrap his arms around miles and sway them around. if music is playing anywhere, hobie will bop to it and get miles to join in

♡ hobie's love language? touch. any kind, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. words of affirmation come next

♡ miles' love language? quality time, and he's big on kissing. hobie isnt much of a kisser but loves his sunflower just the same, and does not complain at all when miles places little kisses on his hands, ears or his back

♡ sometimes hobie will be a lil mean to miles just as a flirty thing. just usual teenage boy stuff like kicking miles' sneakers, manspreading to get into his space if they're sitting anywhere together, using his height to bully miles into a corner away from everyone so they can flirt some more, crashing into miles on purpose just to be annoying

♡ anytime they get to go on multiverse missions together they somehow manage to get into the craziest shenanigans. breaking into a zoo to stop a villain from mutating the animals, saving a group of schoolkids on a field trip from a killer robot (?), one time hobie even drove a runaway car to stop it from crashing right into jamaica bay and miles was scarred for life

hobie tries to control the car as he haphazardly swerves it around pedestrians and barely manages to miss a group of elderly people.

miles clings onto his seat for dear life. "HOBIE!! you're gonna kill us man, where'd you get your license from!?" he yells.

hobie scoffs. "license?! i said i could drive, mate, i aint mention nuthin' 'bout no license!"

♡ hobie's universe is set in the 1970's and living in a dystopian police-state means it's too risky to bring back a phone with him, so he's often left out of spiderkid groupchats. miles still tries to keep him up to date on the latest memes and inside jokes though. they also have their own inside jokes too

♡ hobie wouldn't bring a smartphone with him anyways since he's so mistrusting of tech in general. video games, laptops, and "smart" tech mystify him, and smart watches? forget about it. when miles gets one for christmas one time, hobie clowned on his bf so hard the watch was never seen again

♡ that being said, they love exchanging music often so the only piece of technology hobie ever brings back to his dimension is an ancient half-busted ipod (it was probably rio's at one point) filled with music miles managed to download for him that week. spiderman-ing and living as a homeless teen means hobie doesn't get much time to explore genres outside of the UK punk scene and listening to brand new genres is often a trip! hobie finds out he loves drum n bass, grindcore, industrial techno, UK drill, deep house and 90's hip hop

♡ hobie gets miles to make him cool posters for whatever venue he plans on (or doesnt plan lbr) playing at every now and then

♡ rio LOVES hobie. hobie is the perfect gentleman (gentlespider?) around her and often tries to help her around the house when he can. miles... does not enjoy how much his mom favors his partner. jeff is also not so crazy about this smart-mouthed punk

♡ miles and hobie absolutely swap clothing as often as possible, with hobie "borrowing" miles' clothes more often. miles' parents keep commenting on how much of a rockero he looks with all the punk stuff and hobie never returns clothes without having altered them in some way (pins n bits everywhere, a mysterious rip or two here n there, pinned-up sleeves, etc)

♡ miles is absolutely horrible at cooking and feels left out when he sees hobie helping his mom in the kitchen. he desperately tries to learn, but it's a wonder how he hasnt sliced his fingers off yet trying to peel and cut platanos so they can make tostones

♡ for a person who's built like a lamppost, hobie is shockingly graceful with his movements. he always slips around a room like a cat and miles is so jealous of that. long gangly limbs should be a deterrent from moving like That and yet here he is, practically pirouetting around miles for fun

♡ which is a total TRIP when they go out swinging around a city. once the mask is on, every movement hobie makes is chaotic, frantic and unpredictable. spiderpunk and hobie are very different people sometimes

♡ rio often points out hobie's thinness as a typical hispanic mom does ("jóven, pero tu 'ta tan flaco, hobie honey come eat! i have leftovers here!") and miles also agrees that hobie could eat a lil more too. he is always sneaking bits of food into hobie's pockets or bags, saving fries and last slices for his partner. sometimes hobie brings home armfuls of tupperware filled with caribbean food back to his boat

♡ in return, hobie is like a magpie and brings back shiny gifts for them, some handmade stuff too. miles' drawers and nightstand are filled with jewelry, bottles, knickknacks, and other handmade accessories. his walls are filled with collages and zines hobie makes for him and rio bought frames for some of the pieces he makes her

♡ the first person to say "i love you" was miles, but by accident. after realizing it, he was nervous as hell worrying that hobie would clown him to death since he didnt seem like a big romantic. instead, hobie went nuts about it in his own hobie way, writing lyrics about miles' face when he said it, doodling them together more often, teasing miles about it often but lightheartedly. he flaunts miles' love whenever he can

♡ miles has a lethal puppydog face and he KNOWS it! one 🥺 look and hobie immediately folds and gives miles whatever he wants. but not before hemming and hawing about it first, playing up his hesitation just to make miles laugh

♡ speaking of laughter, hobie does Thee Most just to see his bf laugh or smile. he will always goof off in the bg, crack jokes every 2 secs and pretend to get hurt sometimes. hobie is naturally sarcastic and goofs off in general anyways but around miles he dials it up to 200

♡ hobie tries to get miles in on the whole anarchism thing but 1. the texts and manifestos from his dimension are different than miles' and 2. miles is a teen boy. he doesn't know anything about the theory of alienation or effective mutual aid and won't really care at the moment. "mm, you'll learn all 'bout it soon enough, though... eventually," hobie muses

♡ miles is not as big on pet names as hobie is. hobie has like 24984 nicknames for miles but miles mostly sticks to just calling his partner by his name. one day during history class tho a lightbulb moment happens, and when they meet up again miles is excited

"hobie!! guess what, i really got it this time. i have a nickname that i know you're gonna love!"

"spill," hobie says as he throws an arm over miles' shoulders.

"so you always call me sunflower all the time, right? and your name is ho... bee. get it? so i was thinkin' i'm gonna call you 'honey bee' now. y'know, you're not the only one who's got corny ass nicknames! it's good, right?"

hobie has to fight not to grin like a jackass

♡ hobie's sleep schedule is atrocious so whenever miles can manage it, he tries to wrestle his partner into any bed and tucks him in. hobie is touched that his sunflower cares so much about him ♡

♡ miles almost never gets permission to sleep over other friends' houses but on the rare occasions he does, he leaps into portals and goes to visit hobie in his dimension. his fave part of New London is hobie's boat, bc they set up a big hammock for them to lay in, feeling the sway of the boat and letting it lull them to sleep. not to mention that the boat itself is totally badass, and hobie more often than not encourages miles to cover it in graffiti

♡ hobie lowkey (but highkey) loves when miles gets a little bossy, forceful or stern. he loves ribbing miles about it (the "ill do it, but not cuz you told me to" line in mumbattan was a total joke from hobie btw LOL) and saying corny shit in response to a demand, but he loves seeing miles being confident and calling the shots every once in a while. it makes him proud

♡ if they can, miles and hobie try to gather up as much food as they can and take it over to the F.E.A.S.T. that's in hobie's dimension. miles meets hobie's "family" there and gets to know the community, which feels so much more tight-knit and welcoming than Visions. once miles gets over the major jarring differences between his world and hobie's, he finds he LOVES New London

♡ miles and hobie teach each other slang from their countries and time periods, you can't change my mind. miles walks around saying shit like "bloody 'ell" and "septic" all the time. the one time hobie said "deadass" completely unironically, all of the spiderkids DIED laughing

♡ miles learns that EVERY spider is a total dweeb in some way shape or form. even hobie! hobie's awkwardness comes out when theyre in big groups of people. hobie is oddly comfy with performing in front of crowds but when he's invited to parties and tries mingling, it's so... sooo awkward. miles secretly rejoices when he finds out hobie's weakness

♡ i'm an adhd hobie truther and i hc that miles buys hobie the weirdest fidget toys he can get his hands on. along with his switchblade, jewelry, and whatever he stole that day, hobie carries various different fidget toys in his vest to keep boredom at bay

♡ hobie definitely writes songs for miles but takes a very very very long time to actually admit it. miles finally finds out when one of hobie's songwriting notebooks falls open when hanging out in his boat, and hobie comes clean about it. with miles' encouragement tho, hobie makes the decision to add some of those songs into the usual setlist his band performs

♡ if miles ever has time, he tries to attend whatever gig hobie and his band has going on. he loves to see hobie perform on stage, his energy and stage presence is always electrifying

[axeylotl]

if you saw this accidentally get posted for a few seconds earlier no u did not

willry but Henry's dialogue is just copy pasted from some shit I said on discord

and some doodles I meant to post like 2 weeks ago. oops

(and the really long tags I wrote that I just decided to put in the post proper)

I think Henry is abnormal abt machines in a "they are our superiors and we should worship them" way, whereas Will is abnormal abt them in a "they are superior to us so we must control their power" way, yknow?

Also i think Henry has a very complicated relationship with religion due to a very religious and oppressive upbringing and it manifests in the way he thinks about technology and engineering, topics which he would've been obsessed with regardless

[pawseds]

uh oh. tomorrow is sparrow flight day. but this flash fiction. im tempted to draw it as a comic. hm. hmmmmmmmmm... technically sparrow flight day is also sunday. hmmmmmmmmmmmm

[riovidalharkness]

[has generalized anxiety disorder]

[has major fear of eating food that's contaminated]

[finds and app that tells me all the recalls & alerts me to places people have gotten food poisoning]

[freakinator]

If you don’t mind, I’m gonna yap for a second.. I think another problem with Kab is how sudden the turn around was. Like in the first convo where Kab was acting “evil”, Zam fought back with the argument that she’s wasn’t really evil at all and I think he did believe that at least a little. And if Kab slowly began to turn her path around then he would be a bit more trusting cause he would have SEEN her actual emotional growth but the turn around was so fast, it feels like there was no emotional growth at all and that Kab is still the same as before, cause she basically is. She still wants Mane dead no matter the cost and she’s still, intentionally or not, trying to manipulate Zam, but she wants to be treated as if she’s had that whole long term emotional growth

yeah ii think this is where her majority experience with short-term smps really bit her in the ass, i think there are two main directions that other ppl take it tho: 1. is as what you speculate in that some ppl think that she hasnt had genuine growth and hasnt changed at all and 2. that she genuinely changes too quickly and is therefore unreliable regardless of if shes being honest or not

i think the reason zam was so receptive to her in silent scream was cause this has been a recurrent plot point for a couple streams now, kab trespassing zams base to yap while zam tries to decipher her wants and motivations until eventually she just let it all out and in that instance i think he did genuinely believed that she changed even if it was slowly/just a little bit

....but then die for you happened lol

ssee the thing about kab is that shes shes all-or-nothing, going from one extreme to the next after just a little bit of change in character which can be jarring to some ppl to say the least (unless you thought she was lying and therefore any character development shouldnt be believed i suppose) but is something that was a great asset in shorter and arena-based smps where you had to get as much advantage against your opponent as possible without having to worry about the long-term consequences of these actions ie them not trusting you while still having to interact often in mundane ways even after messing with them. while she Can be swayed this only really works with things she was already unsure of which while a great motivator and trait to keep her on track with her goals (again another great trait for short-term smps), can be really jarring and distressing for other ppl if the things she was absolutely sure about goes against their own perspective like for example her thinking that derapchu killing her constitutes zam getting payback for her as the protector of the server (The protector, not A protector like zam insists, The protector of the server)

i think shes far too used to the fast-paced instant acceptance of changed personality in arena smps that is a natural consequence of them being short-term and having a revolving door of members and teams which is why she expects ppl to accept her growth and efforts so quickly even if realistically nobody would hand over their trust that easily esp after essentially being harassed in their own home multiple times, like even in normal smps where theres a baseline amount of trust ppl still wouldnt trust you after doing that, what more in a server like lifesteal where general trust is low basically all the time?

[13eyond13]

actually stunned by how gay The Beatles has been all this time and I just never knew

[silverhalla]

I think it would be rly sick if you went to go build a crow rook and the surname was Arainai

like…. just another little compradi trying to bring glory back to your house - rinnala and taliesin are dead by the house’s hand, zevran failed and deserted, guili murdered in the night, all semblance of power lost once again. the house is trying to claw its way back up, futile as it seems. that’s the way of house arainai, isn’t it? talon to knife to talon to knife to nothing, same as it’s been since the house first lost power in the early dragon age. but you, bright-eyed little crow, you’ll break the cycle, won’t you? for the family?

after all, caterina’s prized heir is right there - the demon of vyrantium, the infamous mage killer, sleeping just down the hall. you can be quiet, can’t you? all those means at your disposal, and all the opportunities you could want. you could find a way in under that armor, get to something soft and bruisable and make it bleed. he’s far from home, isn’t he? without a friend? confidantes are few and far between - even a demon must get lonely.

maybe he’d even trust you. you’re a clever little bird, right? you can find something to exploit. after all, what does a would-be talon do except claw, except maim? what else would you be good for? there is no gentleness to crows - you are here to deliver a message: run, little demon, quick as you like.

house arainai will make carrion of you yet.

[theglamorousferal]

Update: (kinda)

So I've hit a bit of a roadblock when it comes to The Cryptid fo Smallville, I have the third chapter like 75% done before I hit a block and I have the fourth chapter planned out a bit.

In the meantime, I wrote up a short little thing for a plot bunny that has been rolling around in my head for months now. I had the idea a while ago that what if instead of Danny being Damian's twin, what if it was Sam?

So without further ado, I present the wip of (working title) The Demon's Head Jewels.

Slash, punch, block! 

I can feel his eyes on me like a brand.

Slash, slash, punch, kick, block, block!

A slimy feeling following my every move.

Kick, kick, slash, punch, block!

A small boy and girl sparred in an opulent room under the watchful gaze of their grandfather as their mother and instructor stood to the side. Both with hair black as coal, their movements a dangerous dance. Both tanned by the desert sun, though the boy was slightly darker. A trait he inherited from his mother while the girl leaned further toward their father. The girl had cold amethyst eyes. The boy had eyes of gleaming emeralds. Both had sharp, beautiful features.

Dodge, block, slash, punch, kick!

That’s it, I’ve got you now Dami-

Block, block, dodge, dodge, block, slam!

Dammit! Again?!

She was offered a hand, small as her own and similarly wrapped for sparring. She bit back a sigh and took the hand. Once standing, she and her opponent bowed to each other and then to their audience, then, kneeling with heads bowed, waited for their next command. The grandfather huffed like he had expected this outcome. It was several moments before anyone spoke.

“Your training seems to be going satisfactorily I see. I believe it may just be time to add poisons to your repertoire. Now, go wash up, in celebration of today’s achievement, you may rest for the remainder of the day.” The grandfather dismissed the children and rose to leave. The remainder of the party stayed still until he left.

The mother spoke to all still present. “Beginning tomorrow your schedules will be mostly the same except that where before you spent mornings learning and perfecting your martial arts, you will be studying poisons, the afternoons will remain as sparring time so that you do not dull. You are dismissed until the evening meal.” She turned to the instructor to tell him which poisons he should start out with. The children stood and made their way to their personal baths, nothing less is expected of the quarters of the heirs to the Demon Head.

[yanderespamton78]

How I b looking at all my cool ass mutuals

We are gonna pretend that this doesn't look like shit because I definitely didn't draw it at 2am because who stays up until 2am just to make shitty little drawings fhshfhsjfhshh

Anyways this is very /pos just I don't know why I'm here here like,,, when did you guys get here,,, ur all so cool what did i do to deserve this wtf huh

@wisefurret @turntableart @voidshrubsquared @emiplayzmc @tdlizardshinynest @alanmilesdrawings @smahlujud I probably missed at least one but leave me alone im just a little guy /ref

[apocalypticdemon]

i CANNOT wait for this semester to be over. 23 hours remain. God.