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peachypede · 4 months

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Au: What if humans had pokemon types?

The idea struck me after seeing some of @bluebellowl ‘s art of Ingo and Emmet wielding flames and electricity and I was thinking ooo what if humans had typings.

Then I made an au with a bunch of headcanons…

More below the cut

(Almost forgot to add that I took some inspo from @critterbitter ‘s Elesa hairstyle because I love how they draw her hair in the back all spiky, electricy like in some of their drawing just yes)

- most humans are purely 1 type, but a rare person may have a dual typing. (Ingo and Emmet are dual types that cover their least publicly liked typing with their more favorable type)

- Some types are more stigmatized and feared than others for have abilities/features that are frightening: Bug, Ghost, Psychic, Poison and Dark types are the 5 most stigmatized groups.

- Most humans have very small or weak abilities, but some are capable of amazing feats.

- Humans tend to favor pokemon partners that share their typings since it’s easier to connect and communicate but some people do like opposite or different typings.

- When babies are born, they’re given a test to see what type they are so their parents will know how to handle their abilities.

- Each types abilities include:

Normal - Sadly, this typing doesn’t get much special abilities. They’re normal humans. A very, very rare normal type can send a hyper beam out of their mouth.

Fire - Can control small flames and are fire resistant. They can warm their bodies up to feverish temperatures without being sick. Some can breathe fire and have flame like hair. Fire types often have irrational fears of water.

Water - They can control small amounts of water. Their skin gets dried out easily and they have to take showers frequently or have humidifiers in their homes. A few individuals have gills that allows them to breathe fully underwater.

Grass - They can breathe life into plants and cause flowers to bloom. If they have a garden, they’ll produce giant and delicious fruit. Some can make plants move on their own, but this is a rare ability. When happy, a lot of grass-type people will sprout plants on their heads. Some even have plant like hair.

Electric - Able to cause small electric shocks and store bits of electricity. Can turn off and on appliances without touching them. Those who take time to learn can communicate with electric Pokémon using the electrical language all electric types know. They can also talk to humans in electric language who are electric types as well.

Ice - Freezing to the touch and tolerant to below zero temps. They can freeze the surface of water by touching their hand to it. They’re a rare type that hardly leave frosty mountain cities and towns because they’re prone to overheating in warmer weather.

Fighting - Stronger than other humans, but few reach true inhumane strength. Rare individuals have an extra set of arms like Machamp. Most take pride in their strength and hone their skills their entire lives.

Poison - Immune to poisons, some even have poisonous breath or saliva. Most of them have to wear masks around people who aren’t fellow poison types. Some individuals have multicolored skin, like frogs warning others that they’re dangerous. People of this type like steel types, because they can remove their masks for once around these people who are immune to them.

Ground - Can feel vibrations in the ground and if they learn, can properly use this as another sense of sight and see things underground. Rare individuals can make the ground shake and have long claws for digging. Some families are known for living underground where they feel more at ease.

Flying - they have a very keen eye for long distance sight. Lots of people with this type have wings. Not all can fly, since one needs large wings and hollow bones to do so, but some can. Most however are gliders. Some have feathers instead of body hair.

Psychic - People with this type usually have one “talent” ability, such as levitating objects or seeing the future. It’s rare for an individual to have more than one of these talents but it has happened before. They’re seen as power houses amongst the other types for their special abilities and usually are seen offering their services in exchange for coin.

Bug - They can attract a lot of bug type pokemon to them via pheromones and with practice, they can even control them. Like ants, bug types can talk through pheromones like alerting to danger, creating trails, or even just generally talking like electric types do (its not all just attracting mates although bugs are more likely to be attracted to other bug people) Grass types dislike the smell of bug types, whereas flying types get hungry around them. Rumor has it that bugs can control others through their pheromones but its just a rumor. Pheromones make it easy to persuade, but can’t truly control people.

Rock - They have skin as tough as rocks and most can dig through rock itself. Rare people look like a cluster of rocks themselves. They dislike water since it erodes away their skin, so they take mud baths and showers instead.

Ghost- Many can float above the ground and go through walls. Similar to ice types, They are cold to the touch. They can see ghost type pokemon even if they are invisible. Rare abilities are being able to see and commune with human spirits. (And only once a century is there an individual who has truly open eyes and can see the entire world of the dead walking amongst the living) People who fear this type spread rumors that ghost types are evil and can raise the dead to do their bidding, but these are only rumors.

Dragon - Noble types that are descended from long blood lines. A lot of individuals have scales and wings and claws. Rare ones can breathe fire. Once in every 100 years there will be a dragon-type who can communicate and wield their type’s pokemon with high efficiency, even mighty legendaries. Families of dragons can be very prideful and look down on other types. Noble families don’t like their children mingling or marrying other types.

Dark - A stigmatized group to the point that their typing is labeled as the “evil” type in some languages. Many have a bad luck effect on the people around them and some can sense disasters before they happen. Dark types often are lonely because of their bad luck charm abilities make other people wary of them.

Steel - Most in this group have skin that shines like a type of metal and are able to bend metals in their hands. They’re immune to poison and bug types abilities, and often are friends with these stigmatized types because of this.

Fairy - This group have small magical abilities and unluck the dark type, they have a lucky effect around them. Some individuals have wings, some have unnaturally colored hair. Fairies have a high social standings with other types because they’re thought to do nothing wrong, when fairies actually often have trouble makers in the midst of them taking advantage of this.

#au: human types #submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #gym leader elesa #peachy draws #its been a bit since an au has made me this excited but ye!

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aphroditelovesu · 7 months

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.navigation

✿.｡Welcome to my blog! My name is Larissa, but feel free to call me Lari or Lady L, which is how you know me. I'm Brazilian 🇧🇷 and I was born on October 15th. English is not my first language. My pronouns are she/her and I am bisexual 💖💜💙. I am Libra ♎️ and INTP.

⤷♡. If you want to support my work or to just tip me, can you buy me a coffee? ☕️

⤷✿.Here I've gathered all my series, masterlists and some additional things to make them easier to find. Enjoy my blog, dear reader.

⤷♡.+ disclaimer: some of my works may have nsfw content in addition to the yandere genre. if you are sensitive to these topics, I recommend not reading.

⤷♡.+ genre: yandere/dark!au.

⤷♡.+ Requests are OPEN. Asks and concepts are open.

⤷♡.+ character ai: aphroditelovesu.

⤷♡.+ Rules and Fandoms List;

⤷♡.+ Emoji Prompt List + Prompts List;

⤷♡.+ Wips; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; 7; 8;

⤷♡.+ Commissions;

‘‘Love you so bad, love you so bad, mold a pretty lie for you.��‘ ˚˖੭ Fake Love, BTS.

⤷♡.+ BTS; 💜

⤷♡.+ BLACKPINK; 🖤

⤷♡.+ ITZY; 🧡

⤷♡.+ Stray Kids; 💙

➷ EXO: Yandere Baekhyun (Romantic), Yandere Suho (Romantic).

➷ TWICE: Imagine as Classmates.

⤷♡.+ Greek Mythology; ⚡

⤷♡.+ Egyptian Mythology; 𓂀

⤷♡.+ Historical Characters; 📜

➷ The Lost Queen | Yandere!Alexander the Great ❝You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn't understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren't safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won't let you go so easily.❞ The Lost Queen Series Masterlist

⤷♡.+ The Vampire Diaries + The Originals; 🧛

⤷♡.+ House of the Dragon; 🐉

⤷♡.+ Game of Thrones; ❄️

⤷♡.+ The Sandman; ⌛

⤷♡.+ Outlander; 🗿

⤷♡.+ Wednesday; 🎻

⤷♡.+ Brooklyn Nine-Nine; 👮‍♂️

⤷♡.+ Bridgerton; 🐝

⤷♡.+ Shadow and Bone; ☠️

⤷♡.+ Outer Banks; 💰

⤷♡.+ K-Dramas; ❤️

⤷♡.+ Reign; 👑

⤷♡.+ The Tudors; 🗡️

⤷♡.+ Hannibal; 🍽

➷ The Bloody Viscount | Yandere!Anthony Bridgerton ❝You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?❞ Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; ➷ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon | Yandere!ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT ❝You have always been an avid reader and your greatest passion was delving into the pages of "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin. You knew every character, every twist and every detail of the Seven Kingdoms as if they were part of your own life. But what you never imagined is that an unexpected encounter with a mysterious antique book seller would change your life forever.❞ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon Masterlist

⤷♡.+ Percy Jackson; 🌊

⤷♡.+ Harry Potter; 🔮

⤷♡.+ A Court of Thorns and Roses; 🌹

⤷♡.+ A Song of Ice and Fire; 🔥

‘‘We were born to be alone but why we still looking for love?’‘ ˚˖੭ Lovesick Girls, BLACKPINK.

⤷♡.+ Attack on Titan; ⚔️

⤷♡.+ Naruto; 🍥

⤷♡.+ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir; 🐞

⤷♡.+ One Piece; 👒

⤷♡.+ How To Train Your Dragon; 🐲

⤷♡.+ Death Note; 📓

‘‘Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’’ ˚˖੭ Toxic, Britney Spears.

⤷♡.+ Marvel; ۞

‘‘I wish you would love me again, no, I don't want nobody else.’’ ˚˖੭ Love Me Again, V.

⤷♡.+ Love Letters; 💕

⤷♡.+ Love Letters II; 💕

⤷♡.+ Kinktober 2023; 🎃

➷ A Black Rose | Yandere!Ian Daerier ❝A cruel and narcissistic reaper falls in love with the woman he was supposed to take the life of.❞ Oneshot;

#navigation #masterpost #masterlist #masterlists #rules #fandoms list #prompts #emoji prompt #prompt list #yandere au #love letters #wips #yandere #dark au #📌 pinned post

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nerdraging4point0 · 1 month

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Power Play // Chapter Three // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @cncohshit @flowery-mess @graveatspeople @cncohshit @nerdywitch20 @sundamariis @srorgana1 @malerieee @bloody-delusion-expert @sammyjoeee @deathofpeaceofmiiind @hayleylatour @deadboltsblog @broken0mens

The crowd is fired up as I squeeze between Dad and Jack on the home team's bench. The massive arena throbs with energy, flashing lights dancing across the packed stands and smooth ice. Blaring music competes with the deafening cheers of fans who arrived early just to watch warmups. On the Jumbotron above center ice, bone-crushing hits and highlight-reel goals from last season pump up the crowd. I bundle up in my cozy black fleece jacket, the team logo proudly displayed across my chest. My dad and Jack wear matching jackets and hats, pulled low to fight off the chill. I let my hair fall loose around my shoulders - an extra layer of warmth for my ears.

The arena plunges into darkness as the jumbotron fades to black. The crowd hushes in anticipation before a crimson glow washes over us. Bold letters flash across the screen: "Welcome the Rooks!" Our boys in black glide onto the ice - jerseys fluttering, skates carving arcs through the chill air. Moments later, a blur of gold and silver enters from the opposite end - the opponents have arrived.

The crowd roars as the Rooks and Pirates take to the ice. Fans decked out in black and red are on their feet. Across the rink, a sea of silver and honey gold erupts for the rival Pirates. The deafening cheers make the arena shake as the teams complete their warm-up laps.

Our players zip across the ice, passing pucks in a frenzied warm-up. They swing by the home bench, exchanging fist bumps with Coach on each lap. Sanders zooms over and bumps gloves with my dad, then swoops around to me. He flashes a playful grin, head tilted, and I can't help but smile back as our gloves meet with a thud. Then he's off again, swallowed by the sea of players circling the rink.

McClain, the towering goalie, glides around the net, his massive frame armored in pads as he gathers up pucks. Pierce and Dominick hit the ice, dropping into deep lunges to stretch out their legs before the game. The rink echoes with the sounds of pucks clacking off sticks and skates carving the fresh sheet of ice.

My eyes scan the team, catching Sebastian immediately. He skates effortless circles around the guys, poking their shins with his stick and shimmying his shoulders to get them loose. One by one, his energy infects them all until the entire squad is smiling and gliding around the ice, ready for a great game.

As I look out across the ice, a sea of adoring fans presses up against the glass, eager for a chance to get close to their heroes. McClain, ever the showman, casually skates over and bumps fists with a starstruck youngster, posing for a picture with the kid's beaming mom. Not one to be upstaged, Sanchez whips the crowd into a frenzy, waving his stick like a maestro conducting a symphony of cheers. The arena erupts into a thunderous chant as the fans, decked out in their red and black jerseys, stand as one to worship their idols.

Sebastian and Karlsson slice through center ice like greased lightning, buzzing the Pirates with some cheeky close calls before zipping away again. The defensemen swoop back around, circling like hungry sharks eager for the kill.Sebastian's grin says it all - he came to fight. To win.

I'm transfixed, leaning forward, trying to anticipate their next move. Jack notices me watching and flashes a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He goes back to scribbling plays, unperturbed. The easy confidence of it makes me smile too, even as Sebastian and Karlsson continue their dangerous dance, ready to strike.

“Those two are certainly a pair of daredevils, aren't they? Always pushing the limits and getting their thrills. I gotta admit, their bold style is impressive, even if it makes me a bit nervous. They really know how to walk that fine line between crazy and genius!”

With a few slick practice shots, McClain glides out of the net and Sanders swoops in to take his place. The boys fire off some blistering slapshots, testing Sanders' reflexes. Ruffilo starts showboating, swirling the puck in dizzying circles with his stick, playing a little game of keep-away from Karlsson. Sebastian cruises by the bench, bumping fists with dad and Jack as he passes. He drifts past me, brown eyes sizing me up through his mask's shield.

The warmups end and the team hustles off the ice, dad and Jack retreating to the locker room. I'm left sitting alone on the bench, mesmerized as the zamboni glides across the freshly scarred ice, smoothing it over for the game ahead. Jack emerges first, focused intently on the paperwork clutched in his hands, barely noticing me as he takes a seat. Suddenly, the announcer's voice booms through the arena, drawing all eyes upward as he begins introducing the Rooks players one-by-one on the jumbotron.

The crowd roars as Joakim Karlsson takes the ice with a nod to his adoring fans. "Number 18, Jake Sanders!" bellows the announcer. Sanders glides onto the rink, Southern California smile beaming beneath his helmet as he greets the stands. The cheers continue as each player is introduced, building to a fever pitch when the announcer calls, "Number 13, Noah Sebastian!" The arena explodes in shrieks and screams - no doubt from his legions of female fans. The heartthrob glides to center ice, flashing his million dollar grin and eliciting another wave of adulation from the crowd.

The energy in the arena is electric as the opening ceremonies wrap up. The anthem singer belts out a passionate rendition, players scramble back to the bench, jostling past me as I'm wedged tight between their muscular bodies. Sebastian vaults over the boards right in front of me, his rock-hard shoulder slamming me back against the glass. He rips off his helmet, his piercing eyes meeting mine for a split second before he drops down on the bench. I feel my heart race as his raw, aggressive energy radiates through the tight space. This team means business, and I'm caught up in their intense pre-game ritual, pulse pounding with excitement and intimidation.

"Listen up!" barks coach as he strides into the room. All eyes snap to him.

"Sanchez, you've got first line. Sebastian, Karlsson - you're on defense. Willow, Dominick, be ready to sub in."

He scans the bench, gaze hard. "It's time. Bring the heat today and leave it all on the ice. We've got a championship to win. Now let's go out there and crush 'em!"

The team roars, pounding fists and slapping sticks. The starting six spring over the boards, skates carving the fresh ice as they hustle into position. Sanchez glides to the faceoff dot, eyes locked on his rival Hemingway across the red line. Karlsson and Sebastian flex their gloves, sticks poised and shoulders squared, eager for the opening puck drop. The crowd hushes and the tension swells. My pulse thunders in my ears.

This is it.

Noah's POV

My pulse pounds as the puck hits the ice with a crack. Sanchez bodychecks Hemingway, both of their wingmen rushing in. No luck - Hemingway emerges with the puck, barreling towards McClain’s net. I rock back and forth on my skates, poised to strike. Hemingway feints, faking a slide my way instead. I surge forward, stick low, leveling him to the ice as I snatch back the puck. Twirling away from the wingmen, I pass it back to Sanchez with a flick of the wrist. The crowd roars as we regain control, hungering for more bone-crunching hits and lightning-fast plays.

Sanchez charges down the ice like a freight train, barreling towards the Pirates goal. He loses control and is thrown off his skates, the Pirates pounce on the loose puck and race toward our zone, the crowd roaring in anticipation. Sticks clash and skates scrape as the action explodes, both teams desperately fighting for control.. Jolly and I scramble back on defense, sticks flashing, bodies crashing, doing everything in our power to shield McClain. The puck squirts free and the pirates pounce, but Jolly throws himself in front of the shot, taking one for the team. I help clear the rebound as the crowd roars.

The puck is ours once again. Sanchez leads the charge, weaving through defenders like a snake. His wingmen flank out wide, drawing the defensemen with them. Sanchez winds up at the top of the circle, eyes locked on the net. He unleashes a blistering slapshot. The puck screams towards the goalie, too fast to react. Sanchez spins away, not daring to watch. The ref's hand goes up. Goal! The crowd erupts as Sanchez is mobbed by his teammates. Helmets clank together in celebration before it's back to business.

Ruffilo whizzes past, giving my stick a friendly slap as he crosses over. Gotta love that guy. As wingmen go, he's as solid as they come. We're tight, me and Nick - been roomies for a while now. Probably for the best we don't live with Jolly too, that'd be a bit much. Don't get me wrong, Jolly's my right-hand man on the ice, we're a well-oiled machine out there. But off the rink? Me and Nick kick back, bust each other's chops, talk a little smack. That's just how we roll. I've got his back and he's got mine, on and off the ice. We make a pretty good team.

I'm still trying to figure Sanchez out. He's obviously a talented center, and he gets the other guys pumped up, which is good. But I dunno, there's something about his attitude that rubs me the wrong way. Like, he acts like he's the main character out there, and the rest of us are just supporting actors. I don't wanna judge too quickly, he might just be really competitive. But that arrogance could cause problems if he doesn't keep it in check.

The puck rockets across the ice as The Pirates battle to get it to McClain. Jolly and I scramble to guard the net. A winger charges at me and I slide to block, but the guy jams his skates at my feet to trip me up. I spin away from the attack but lose my position, forced to go where he steers me. Hemingway whacks the puck toward McClain, who splits his legs and snags it in his glove. The crowd roars at the clutch save.

I scan the crowd, my eyes darting from the approving cheers of the fans to the nods of my teammates. But my gaze keeps getting drawn back to her. The coach's daughter. She's been here since yesterday, hanging all over her dad. I tried not to notice her at first - I'm here to play hockey, not ogle girls. But I can't seem to look away for long.

The way she moves, the cute little smiles she gives her dad. She's got my head spinning more than taking a hard check into the boards. I've gotta get my focus back if I want to play well tonight.

Coach would slaughter me if he caught me within 100 feet of his daughter. Hell, I didn't even know he had one until just yesterday. Can't blame him for wanting to keep her far away from us hooligans. If I had a girl that looked like her, I'd lock her in a tower. But damn, the second I saw her, something inside me snapped. My inner defenseman kicked in - I wanted to shield her from these animals, keep her safe. She's not mine...yet. But I'll be damned if I let any of these punks lay a finger on her. I'll knock 'em into next week if they even look at her wrong. That angel's gonna be protected at all costs. Coach better keep that beauty off the ice, 'cause she's got this enforcer feeling some type of way.

Sanchez is back on the ice, battling Hemingway for the puck like two bucks locked in a duel - even their wingmen keep their distance. Karlsson slaps his stick on the boards twice, jolting me back into the action. We watch Sanchez twirl and shove Hemingway, fighting for control. Then I see it coming - Hemingway's left winger charges Ruffilo, tripping our man and making him flinch, slashing down toward the dude's skates inches from his own. The ref's whistle pierces the tense air as he calls slashing on Ruffilo, handing him a two-minute penalty. The crowd erupts into a chorus of boos while Ruffilo glides to the box, shaking his head.

Man, I feel for my buddy out there. He didn't mean to. But did the ref see it that way? No chance. Two minutes in the box. Unbelievable. Now the rest of us have to pick up the slack while Ruffilo cools his heels. Me and Jolly slide in, McClain’s head on a swivel now that we’re down a man.

The puck rockets toward me as I skate backwards, eyes locked on it, guarding the goal with everything I've got. Hemingway winds up and fires a blistering slapshot through a seam in our defense. I dive, stretching every inch of my pads to block it, but the puck deflects off McClain's stick and glides into the corner of the net. The ref's whistle pierces the tense air. Hemingway's teammates swarm him as the crowd erupts. We were so close to stopping them. If only McClain had kept his focus. But it's too late now. The damage is done.

My blood is boiling so hot I can feel it flushing my face. I circle the rink to cool off before I explode. Nick's back from the box, his eyes narrowed to slits. He's out for blood.

Sanchez streaks up the ice with the puck, Pierce on his tail. But the Pirates' D shoves Pierce hard into the boards. Now Pierce is seeing red too. He grabs the bastard's jersey, drops his stick and gloves, and drags him along the ice. Pierce is ready to pound him into the ground right here.

We all grind to a halt, transfixed by the scene erupting before us. I charge forward, stick clattering to the ice, ready to drop the gloves as the D wads up Pierce's jersey in his fist. The ref circles like a shark, while Coach's screams echo from the bench. I glance over and see her leaning over the boards, eyes blazing, shouting breathlessly as she watches Pierce and his nemesis tangled together. Man, the intensity in her gaze is electric. Must be the adrenaline and testosterone coursing through my veins, but damn if she doesn't look sexy as hell at this moment.

Pierce and his rival crash together, gloves dropping as the ref struggles to pull them apart. The crowd roars as fists fly, the two tangled in a full-on brawl. Sharp whistles pierce the din as the ref forces them to their corners, both still straining against his grip. They're banished to the sin bin while tensions boil, leaving the ice open for Dominick to vault over the boards. He joins the nameless sub now skating for the Pirates, eager to capitalize on the empty space. The crowd pounds the glass, feeding off the raw intensity as play resumes in the wake of the fight.

We're locked in a never-ending battle on the ice, the clock winding down as overtime drags on. One more blistering slapshot, one more brick wall save, and victory is ours. Firing up my teammates, I skate around them offering as much encouragement as I can.

“Dom, Ruff, Sanchez - skate like your lives depend on it. Harass them, frustrate them, smother them! Don't give their stars an inch to breathe out there.” I skate around turning to our goalie “McClain, my brother - I need you to lay out and block every shot you can. Be our brick wall. We're too close to let it slip away now. One more stop, one more big play. That's all we need. Let's bring this W home in front of our fans! Now let's get out there and take what's ours!”

The boys erupt in a roar, heads bowed as they clench their sticks with white-knuckled intensity under their gloves. The ice shudders under the force of their voices. They're fired up and ready to battle, adrenaline pumping through their veins.

The puck rockets through the air and Sanchez snatches it, a warrior king charging forward as the black disc zips between him, Dom and Ruff. They weave a web of deception, bamboozling the opposing defense just long enough for Sanchez to whip around the net and slam the puck into the gaping goal mouth. The ref's whistle pierces the din and I hurtle my stick away, tear off my helmet and blaze towards my brothers. We collide in a crush of celebration as the rest of the team swarms the ice.

We separate carefully trying not to catch each other's blades. I slide back, regaining my footing before skating to grab my stick and helmet. On the bench, she bounces excitedly, hugging her dad in celebration of our victory. Her cheeks flush red with exhilaration, her smile radiant. She's tied her hair back in a messy ponytail, loose strands perfectly framing her face. I'm mesmerized watching her, knowing if she sticks around much longer, I'll either lose the championship or lose my heart completely.

#bad omens cult #noah sebastian #bad omens #noahsebastian fanfic #bad omens band #hockey player noah #hockey #bad omens au #bad omens smut #hockey romance #hockeyomens

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thesightstoshowyou · 7 months

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🩸BLOODFEST🩸

Week 1

Prompts: Fire. Wound(s). Suburbs. Bondage

Keywords: Acrid. Malignant

Au Courant

(Part 1)

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader

Summary: Meeting your soulmate doesn’t quite go as you’d hoped.

Warnings: Soulmate AU, angst

~ Aeons ago, I answered this ask and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. So, here’s a fic ~

Ding.

The automatic bell above the door chimes as you enter. The grocery store bustles with activity, people fresh from work hurrying to finish their shopping before returning to their sleepy suburbs. It’s barely-controlled chaos.

Retrieving a basket, you check the post-it note list in your pocket. Just a few things.

Aisle 3 first.

You’re slower than the rest as you scan the shelves, eyes unfocusing at random, the different brands of aluminum foil failing to hold your attention. Your mind is elsewhere.

Shelly found her soulmate today.

You knew the moment she walked into the office this morning. The sparkling eyes, the lovesick grin, they way she seemed to float with each step; it’s a look you’ve seen on others before. So, so many others.

Try as you might, you had not been able to avoid her for long. Pairs, as they’re called, could never keep it to themselves for long, seemingly intent on torturing you with their newfound wholeness.

They’d met on the train. She’d been running late and had to take a later line than usual. It was fate, she said. They never would have met otherwise.

Blah, blah, blah. You wanted to puke.

Everyone in your office had found their soulmate, one way or another. Everyone but you. Shelly was the last, the only coworker to whom you could relate. Now, you’re alone in more ways than one.

It would happen, they all told you. One day, your eyes would meet theirs and you would feel it: That spark, that final puzzle piece snapping into place, that pure feeling of absolute plenitude. It’s not something you could comprehend until you felt it, they said.

They’d meant to help, to give you hope, but their words only served to deepen the wounds of isolation. The malignant ache of loneliness festers a little more every year you go without meeting your other half. You’ve almost resigned yourself to a life of solitude.

It has been known to happen. Some unfortunate people go their whole lives without meeting their soulmate. It’s heart wrenching to see them out and about, a single, lonely figure in a sea of Pairs.

Would you be one of them?

Hastily, you shake your head, coming back to yourself and swallowing the acrid tang of self pity creeping up your throat. You slink to the next aisle over. A quick glance at your sticky note prompts you to retrieve a jar of pasta sauce. Bread is next.

You round the corner, eyes on your list. Bread, waffles, maybe you should get some ice cream—

You run headfirst into a solid chest, the impact so jarring you drop your basket. The glass jar of pasta sauce shatters, marinara splattering all over your shoes and the other’s scuffed boots. Strong hands seize your upper arms to keep you from toppling backward.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—

The words die on your tongue when you meet the dark eyes of the man with whom you collided. His expression is one of cold fury. It chills you to the bone, freezes your soul, invokes a terror so deep in your mind you cannot draw breath. Then….

Click.

Your eyes widen. Fear dissipates instantly, replaced with unequivocal certainty. A spark ignites within you, warms your heart, sends a thrill racing up your spine.

It’s like that final puzzle piece snapping into place. No terror, only perfect completion.

Wholeness.

Now, you understand. Now, you see.

You stare in stunned silence at one another, his now shocked expression mirroring yours. A tremulous exhale spills from your lips. The grip on your arms tightens.

You take him in, as much as you can while keeping your gaze locked with his. He’s tall and broad-shouldered. “Powerful” is the first word that comes to mind. His strong jaw is peppered with stubble, the barest hints of gray flecking it and his brown hair. With your eyes, you trace the thin, white scars littering his face: One through his eyebrow, one through his lips, more slashed across his cheek and the bridge of his nose. His eyes…. His eyes are so dark—black?—and they glitter like beetle’s wings.

You inhale, part your lips to say something, to break the tense silence, but then his expression changes. His brows furrow, his lips press into a thin line. The cold scowl returns.

He releases your arms like you’ve burned him. Stepping away from you, he spins on his heel and quickly strides away. Incredulous, you watch the back of his jean jacket as he retreats, acutely aware of the knowing looks your exchange has garnered.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” you call, slipping a little in pasta sauce as you hurry after him. You pass a disgruntled employee and murmur an apology, you’ll help clean it up, you promise, you just need one moment….

The door chimes again as the man—your soulmate—all but flees to the parking lot. You pursue, half-jogging to catch up

“Stop! Please, why are you—

He turns to face you so fast you barely register what’s happening. A palm returns to your upper arm, another wrapping around your throat as he seizes you, spins, and shoves you up against the nearest vehicle. The noisy thud as your back collides with steel disturbs the muted hustle of post-work suburbia.

You gasp, equal parts shocked and impressed by the show of speed. You’re bewildered by your feelings, heart thudding in your chest, face hot. He just slammed you into a car and you’re blushing for chirst’s sake.

His own expression is pinched, strained. His voice, so pleasantly deep and rough, is terse as he speaks through his teeth, “You do not want to go down this road with me.”

You blink, your frenzied mind racing to process his words. “I…yes, I do. You’re—

“Forget this happened. Forget. It.” You flinch like he cut you, his words stinging like alcohol in a wound. You shake your head.

“…How?” you whisper. Your eyes burn. There’s no way you could ever, ever forget him now, not in any sense of the word. You’re connected on the deepest level, your very souls entwined. How could he say something like this? How could he want this? Does he not feel this bond like you do?

His jaw clenches. He pushes you away, not hard enough to make you fall, but firmly enough to make a point. Keys jingle as he retrieves them from his pocket. They rattle against the truck door—the one he’d pushed you against—until the lock clicks. He doesn’t look back as he slides into the driver’s seat, slams the door. The engine roars to life.

You watch, frozen to the spot, adrenaline and distress thrumming under your skin as the vehicle pulls away. It ambles through the parking lot, makes a left turn onto the street, disappears into traffic.

Your eyes burn.

Slowly, like your arm weighs a ton, you reach up to touch your cheek. It’s wet. You’re crying, you realize.

A new wound opens up, settles into your chest next to the loneliness:

Heartbreak.

#sfbf23 #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collector 2009 #the collector x reader #the collection #thesightstoshowyou #bloodfest

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comfortless · 2 months

Note

syl you can not casually mention blacksmith König and leave it at that!

sighing… ok, yes, i will talk about blacksmith! König more..! ^^

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. violence, physical/emotional abuse, descriptions of injury, death, angst, marriage on the gallows au.

Before König, there was his father, his father’s father and so on. Hardened men who were left to rot on the outskirts of the little village: sharpen blades, birth something from slabs of iron and silver. The work was tedious, but never dull. Scrape, burn, turn and roll- over and over until the smoke rose from the pit to sting at his eyes. Birth by fire wasn’t only in myths of dragons and phoenixes; he witnessed it each time he held pure malice in his hands as his hammer struck. Nothing became something, deadly and cruel. Day and night his life and lungs were filled to brimming with hellfire.

Accidents happen, naturally. No matter how careful he’s been, there’s nothing to keep the flame from entirely taking back after giving so much.

König’s father lost a finger while mentoring him.

His blue eyes were fixed on the man’s callused hand as the freshly smithed blade sliced through the digit like it was little more than a dollop of honey, no blood. There had been nothing but the crack of bone carved cleanly through, then the wet sizzle of meat cooking as it fell into the pit.

His father had screeched like a starved demon then, a barrage of insults tossed his son’s way like little more than passing pleasantries: oaf, useless cur, bitch.

König hadn’t been concerned, he sat on the stone bench looking up at his father and told him so, that he was fine: it had been cauterized, cleansed by the fire.

König lost the same finger that day.

His mother had fallen ill sometime last winter. The last memory he had of her was the look of frailty on her face, how her skin felt so cold and yet she lie dampened with sweat.

The dogs and buzzards had gotten to her grave, but it wasn’t them he felt any of the fire’s malice for.

Just his father.

The villagers didn’t know what became of the blacksmith, but König could recall it every night; how even with his dying breath he had only thought to curse his only son.

So, he wears the hood of the last executioner now, and the people shy away. They don’t like the look of death unless they can participate in it as a divined audience.

The dogs are never hungry, there’s illness all throughout the valley, and sometimes it only shines through in shimmering eyes while the villagers stare and giggle at the next withering soul led to the gallows.

König knows he should be there; like mother and father, his bones should be shared between panting mouths and blood-stained beaks. Sometimes the boars come sniffing too, and he’s always hated them, maybe even more than the birds. They’re ugly and sturdy, squealing and snarling like his father.

The villagers looked at the boars, though, because they were useful. Their eyes were hungry and happy each night the men set out on a hunt, unaware that their sons and daughters lurked in the bellies of the very beasts they starved for.

It’s cold even during the summer months in his shack.

There are blankets, a kitchen, a hearth, but it’s empty. The winter makes its wastelands each coming year, envious of how he can accomplish such with fire instead of ice. He doesn’t need to clean. The ash blackens the wood, cleanses all. One day, maybe, it would scrub him too.

The fire is a womb, but it’s never birthed anything truly alive. Not until her. A wildfire swept the field where travelers had gathered. With their supplies reduced to the very cinders König had come to adore, the surviving members sweep right into this cursed place like it’s a holy temple.

And the fire gave her to him.

König doesn’t know where this woman came to settle from; she isn’t like the other villagers, not even the travelers with their items and skills for selling. There’s still life in her eyes. He watches her as she wanders down the street with a smile on her face, one that speaks of a kindness that not a single one of these people deserves.

She introduces herself to them too, without a title to her name, and all at once any interest fades as the ghosts wander away from her.

His mother used to force him into the church when she was still alive.

She would take him by the hand as he lumbered after her, sticking out amongst the crowd of parishioners who would sing their hymns and stare at him with contempt behind their eyes. He hated going, but he did it for his mother; father was much too busy to spend his time with her and her fantasies. But König learned of angels there, fragile feathered things, all eyes and wings that wouldn’t stand a chance against a blade.

He didn’t think delicate things could be holy until her sweet, gentle smile is cast upon him.

This lady walks right up to him, doesn’t bat an eye at his hood when her lips curl up as she introduces herself. She doesn’t mind the sack of weapons thrown over his shoulder to take to the marketplace— the swords, the daggers, none of it. Her eyes don’t even glance their way; she looks only to him.

Women like this don’t want their homes and beds covered in ash, cinder in place of incense, fire instead of honey. But still she smiles while he says nothing.

König isn’t the only man who’s heart she steals, either.

The village is all gray, smoke and rot except where she walks. Flowers spring up for the coming spring, the deer and foxes are calling out for mates, and it’s all because of her— everyone must know it.

The farmer’s son brings her fresh fruit and whispers into her ear while they pass by his shack on a stroll. The man’s arm curls around her waist so naturally that König can only be reminded of the way that dagger sank between his fathers fingers, tore off a bit of him to feed back to hungry flame. If there were any god above he knew right then that it wouldn’t want him to allow that to happen to her. Not to an angel.

When the rest of the men, dogs and seraphim sleep, König tears the farmer’s boy in two— split down chest to abdomen and left as food for the pigs, right there in the middle of the field.

He doesn’t pray, he hasn’t since the last time he knelt by his mother’s sickbed, but he closes his eyes and breathes out a wish when he leaves that bloodied dagger at her doorstep.

He doesn’t pray, but he weeps when he rallies the villagers to apprehend her. She cries and fusses, face puffy from sleep and hair a mess. There isn’t a speck of blood on her, but the vultures take her anyway. König didn’t want to see her hurt; when her eyes find his, he turns away.

The day of her execution arrives like a festival ceremony. It’s been some time since the last, the scavengers are hungry, so famished he thinks he can almost hear them lick their teeth. There would be no death today, it’s already been decided. In distant places, a single act of devotion is all it takes to save a life, one that the beasts didn’t have the right to take.

The hunger wasn’t always just for death, but for something… a turn and change like steel in fire.

When the angel is taken to her death, rope dangling from her neck like a lead meant for cattle, he steps forward, parting the crowd with an ease. He’s practiced this a time or two in the smoke already, a lonesome and loathing god in the fog. The others scurry from him, looking up at him with pinched brows and bared teeth as if to goad he take her life instead.

Instead, he only catches her eye, smiles and lowers himself on one knee.

#never in the entirety of my life did i think that i would be writing about a yandere blacksmith König but here we are

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scriggle-scraggle · 2 months

Text

Due South Fic Recs

Academic Punk by TheHoyden (RayK/Fraser): The quintessential college professor AU

Busted & its sequel Tapestry by JiM: A year after CoTW, and a life-changing experience, Ray goes back to Canada

Like a House on Fire by @bethbethbeth01 & kelliem (RayK/Fraser): “In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, ‘It’s deja vu all over again.’”

With Six You Get Eggroll by @cesperanza (RayK/Fraser): The story of how Ray & Fraser ended up with six kids.

Ray Is Not Actually Graphing The History Of His Relationship With Fraser–That Would Be Pathetic, And Ray Is Not Pathetic–But If He Was Graphing It, Even Just In His Own Stressed-Out, Messed-Up Brain, It Might Look Something Like This by sprat (RayK/Fraser): The sex has never not been good. That is not the confusing part of Ray-and-Fraser. They are naturals at the sex; the sex is their friend. If there was some kind of sexathalon, the two of them would be All-State, trophy-winning champs.

Like a House on Fire by Beth H (bethbethbeth): "In the immortal words of Yogi Berra, 'It's deja vu all over again.'"

Ping by Speranza: I am not the only person here who wants a do-over.

Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante: Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.

All the Comforts of Home by rattlecatcher: post-CotW

Family Portrait by Journey [archived by dsa_archivist]: A slightly AU Ray Kowalski meets Constable Benton Fraser.

This Is Us Series by AuKestrel: how was the decision reached between Kowalski and Fraser to embark on the quest for the Hand of Franklin?

Near Wild Heaven Series by AuKestrel: This was, almost literally, the first thing I wrote, and certainly the first long thing I ever wrote. (Coming to Terms was the first "short" story I wrote and posted.) I worked on this off and on for over a year and did not write it in any kind of linear fashion. The first part was actually finished last, in part because I was stuck in getting them to a plausible misunderstanding that was necessary for the plot (such as it was). It's rough, and could have done with more work, although I did fix a lot of the (popular at the time, I swear!) dialect.

I'm posting it in part because I had SUCH a great time writing it (in fact, there are still parts of it that make me laugh), because I learned so much by/while writing it, and also because it's sort of "historical": a lot of the tropes in dS fandom did not exist when this was written (hard to believe, but there were only 27 F/K stories on Hexwood when I came into the fandom, and only about 5 of those had any kind of M/M sex!), and I thought it would be fun for other people to see how we earlier writers managed such things as tropes before they were tropes. But, in essence, you are about to read a "first novel," with all the alarm bells that ought to ring in your head.

Hawks and Hands by Dira Sudis (dsudis): Eighteen sex scenes strung together with angst and hockey.

Finding the Words by Berty: When luck finally runs out, who's there to pick up the pieces?

Wildly Courteous Ways by Starfish [archived by dsa_archivist]: A new assignment has Ray worried until Fraser steps in to help.

When the Ice Goes Out by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: Long past CotW, Fraser and Ray K. discover that life both it and isn't as simple as it seems.

What We Talk About When We Talk About Wolves by Penelope Whistle [archived by dsa_archivist]: From stake-out to make-out.

Unguarded Protectorate by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Mairead Triste [archived by dsa_archivist]: Smut and angst. This story was previously published in the zine SERGE PROTECTOR.

Somewhere Else to Be by Kellie Matthews [archived by dsa_archivist]: This is an AU. Fraser's not a Mountie, Ray's not a cop, but as someone once said, things once linked remain that way. In any universe, they are meant to be partners.

The Reaching Out One by Alex51324: (AO3 account required) It's ten years after the events of CoTW (in other words, the present day). After the Quest, Fraser and Ray went back to their regular lives--

The Course by Bone [archived by dsa_archivist], Aristide [archived by dsa_archivist]: Randomness. Inevitability. Smut.

If It Walks Like A Duck . . . by Beth H (bethbethbeth): When an old friend of Ray Kowalksi's returns to Chicago, it takes almost no time at all for her to draw the obvious - and erroneous - conclusion about Ray and his "partner."

Genesis by kalena: In the beginning, Ray Kowalski meets Benton Fraser, geologist and volcano cowboy, in Hawaii. AU.

#ds30below #fic rec #due south #ray kowalski #benton fraser #rayk x fraser

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greetingfromthedead · 2 months

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Shepherd Story 1 (God!Knives x GN!Reader)

Plot: In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who leaves behind merciless blizzards and famine wherever he goes on his eternal search for his other half he fell for many millennia ago.

Series: Shepherd. Check out Story 2 (smut) and Story 3!

Pairing: God!Knives x GN!Reader

Raiting: Teen and up (some mild sexual/intimate content, no smut)

Tags: fantasy AU, no use of "y/n", gods, feathery plant, fated love, romance, legends, nature magic, reunion, intimacy, possessive behavior, tenderness, some fluff, body worship, implied smut

Word count: 4.2k

Author's Note: This story is heavily inspired by the incredible @triplesilverstar's god AU stories A so called God on a mountain top? Well, better then freezing to death and So its a tradition? Weird. These stories are just way too good for you to not go read them. So gogogo (unless you are underage or not into smut)...

In a world much different from our own, where fallen gods live among people, there is a story that spans over many millennia. In that world, there are countless higher beings, each with their own unique powers and abilities. They guide nature in the endless cycle of creation and destruction. Among them is a man more feared and despised than the rest, known as the god of winter and death. His icy touch is said to bring misery and despair to all who encounter him. None can escape his chilling grasp, as the harsh winters can last for years on end. Children are born within his icy domain; they live and die, never knowing the warmth of summer. But only a few know the curse put on this world by the jealous gods of ancient times.

The god of winter and death roams solemnly through the lands, bringing icy winds and blizzards in his wake. The soft steps of his bare feet on grassy fields spread frost, and the lakes get covered in ice as he passes by. He doesn't bring famine and illness, but they follow him like a shadow as he moves south on his endless search. This world has never seen a winter like this before; it has lasted for fifty years and brought the northern lands to their knees. Grain stores are empty, and people are starving. Yet the god moves further and further south with each passing day, leaving death in his wake. He is still looking, searching for the one who bears the curse.

Restlessness has sunken its claws into you as of late. It's like something's tugging at your soul. You have always felt lucky that you were born quite far in the south, away from the dark shadows of the north. You are a winter child, and never in your years have you seen the bountiful summers the elders speak of. However, you haven't been plagued by winter's chill either, and for that, you are grateful. But as of late, your dreams have frozen over, set against a backdrop of white fields and icy winds. You feel it seeping into your waking hours; the breeze hasn't been gentle for weeks; instead, it cuts like knives into your flesh, leaving you shivering.

The fire roars in your little house, but its warmth can't chase away the chill in your bones. You wrap yourself tighter in blankets, trying to hold onto the last bit of heat before the darkness of night takes over. You count the herbs in your collection; you need to make sure you have as much stock as possible if winter indeed is to claim your little corner of the world too. You know you can't afford to run out; you are the herbalist that the entire nearby village relies on for healing remedies. As you put away the jars of dried leaves, you wonder if you can sleep tonight or will you be tortured again by the dangerous desire luring you into the night.

The flickering light of the fireplace seems to dim, the dancing of the light more lazy, barely reaching your feet, let alone your workbench. You shiver, feeling a chill run down your spine as the shadows in the room grow darker and more sinister. You turn around to inspect whether you need to add more logs to the dwindling fire, but your attention is grabbed by the window to your side. Icy flowers begin to form on the glass, their sharp angles glistening in the fading rays of the day.

Are these the last remnants of your blissful life? You wonder how long it will take for the cold to overtake the countryside and turn it into an icy wasteland. How many people will die, and will you ever see summer? You shake your head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts, and raise your gaze over the forming ice, as beautiful as it might be. You look at the grassy field and see glittering snow start to descend from the sky. While frost isn't all that uncommon, you've never seen it snow quite like this. The delicate flakes twirl and dance in the air, casting a magical spell over the landscape. You're in awe, and rush to the door, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter before stepping outside into the freezing twilight. The air is so still, not even a whisper of wind dares disturb the enchanting scene, like nature itself is holding its breath in anticipation. The soft flakes brush against your cheeks, melting on contact and leaving a cold, damp feeling on your skin. You try to imagine your home being transformed into a winter wonderland, with snow covering every surface in sight. You know you should fear that image more than anything else, but there's a strange sense of peace that comes with it.

You glance over your little yard to the edge of the forest, and there you see a figure. Your eyes are caught by his icy gaze, and you can't see anything else beside his piercing blue irises. You feel a chill run along your spine, but not from the cold, but from the kind of terror you would feel while staring down a wild wolf.

"I found you at last, my sweet darling." The nearly emotionless words of the god of winter and death carry over the silent landscape, echoing in your ears like a haunting melody. The coldness in his face softens slightly, replaced by something akin to a gentle smile.

You are too stunned to speak or move; the knowledge of who you've come across freezes you in place. But it isn't all fear that has made your legs so heavy; the restlessness of your soul is rearing its head again, calling out to the unknown like it's an old friend. You stay quiet as you look into the eyes of the god before you, feeling a sense of both terror and excitement. He turns toward you and steps closer. Your eyes are released from the shackles of his gaze. As you look at the rest of the figure, you see the mass of wings behind him. They aren't made up of feathers, but of shards of ice that reflect the light in a dazzling display. His body is clad in a flowy white robe, partially revealing his pale skin, some of it covered by the icy shards, the same as the wings. His hair and eyelashes look like they are frosted over due to the cold that emanates from his very being. He is breathtaking as he approaches you, his bare feet make no sound as he walks along the path. The blades of grass freeze in his presence, the puddle of water forms jagged crystals on its surface like razors.

"It has been too long, my dear," he whispers, his voice low and level, the sound crossing the empty space between you effortlessly to caress your ears.

His expression is tender yet filled with a cold intensity. This is not how you imagined such an infamous god to look at a mortal being like yourself. His eyes seem to pierce your very soul, making you feel both terrified and strangely alive.

With every step he takes, the surrounding air gets colder. Every inhale stings your lungs, every exhale produces a white cloud. Your fingers grip the blanket tighter. You can't shake the feeling that he knows something about you that you don't. His eyes have never left your face as he finally stops at your doorstep.

"I am sorry for being so impossibly late," he says, holding out a hand to you, palm up. His voice has a cold edge to it.

"Am I going to die?" The words slip over your lips before you even realize you've spoken them.

"One day, darling, but hopefully not any time soon. I cannot bear to lose you again." A slight smile flickers on the corners of his lips. "Take my hand."

"What do you mean? What do you want from me?" You know you should be afraid of him, but your soul tells you to place your hand in his.

"You will remember, sweet Shepherd." He waits patiently. "Take my hand."

"I'm not a shepherd; I'm a herbalist. You must have confused me with someone else." Saying a god is wrong seems like a surefire way to die, yet you do it anyway. Your reaction paints a slightly more obvious smile on his face as he looks at you through his low eyebrows with amusement. Your heart tells you to reach for his fingers.

"I will recognize you in any life, with any face. I will always find you, as your soul calls out to me. Take my hand." His piercing blue eyes look into yours, and you know that he is the source of your restless nights. You take a deep breath and finally allow yourself to surrender to your heart and soul. Your right hand lets go of the blanket and reaches out into the freezing night air to rest on his open palm. His skin feels like marble against yours, but his touch is comforting and familiar.

"Wake up, my love." His words echo in your mind as you realize the meaning behind them. Hundreds of previous lives come flooding back to you with a sense of recognition and understanding.

"Nai!" Your eyes open wide as you remember who he truly is, "You found me!" The cycle of reincarnation finally feels familiar once again.

He shifts closer, leaning his cold forehead against yours, your hand pressed against his chest.

"Do you still have it?" he asks softly.

"Of course I do; it's been with me all this time," you reply as you shut your eyes. His cold fingers squeeze yours tighter, and he lifts his forehead, replacing it with his lips. A gentle kiss on your skin as his free hand caresses your cheek. You would be shivering if it weren't for the fire lit up inside you.

"Thank you, sweet Shepherd," he says, placing his cheek against yours as he speaks by your ear. "For keeping it safe all this time."

"It is yours after all," you say, keeping your eyes closed, savoring the moment.

"No, sweetling, it is yours," he replies, his voice warm and comforting. He doesn't quite sound like a god of winter and death, one that brings merciless cold and darkness wherever he goes. Instead, he is the guardian and lover of all your past lives, reaching back to the ancient times before you were cast out from the Higher Plane. He is the one who cradles you in his arms and whispers promises of love eternal. The freezing stares are saved for everyone else but you, for you are his chosen one.

"Why don't you come inside?" You smile as you turn your head slightly towards him, feeling the frigid air of his breath against your ear.

"I doubt I would make it through the door," his silky voice chuckles softly. "I've been searching for so long, I fear I myself have frozen."

You can see his massive, crystalline wings over his shoulder. It has never gone on so long that he himself starts to freeze as well. His body feels more rigid, and the softness of his flesh has turned to ice.

"I can fix that, my love," you say softly, reaching out to touch his frozen skin with warmth in your fingertips. The blanket that you released slides off your shoulders, exposing the goosebumps on your skin. The cold air bites at your uncovered flesh, but you don't mind; you are in love with winter. Your fingers slide along his jaw, turning his face toward you. Your breath escapes you as a white vapor before you close the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours.

The kiss you share is deep, filled with a kind of longing that has been building up for many thousands of years. You feel his body warm up; the coldness of his skin no longer cuts you like knives; and your fingers get to press into the suppleness of his cheek. The quiet air is filled with a sound reminding you of delicate glass breaking. His hand that has been tracing the curve of your neck moves down to rest on the small of your back and pulls you closer, flush against his body. You feel his feathers brush against your skin as he wraps you up in his numerous wings, enveloping you in his embrace, protecting you from the frost he brings to the rest of the world.

You pull back to admire the sight you know you will find—the glowing markings etched into his eyes and skin, the pattern traveling along his body, gracing his face, and decorating his arms with intricate designs that seem to come alive in the dim light of nightfall. He is still pressing your hand against his chest, where you can start to feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that matches the intensity of your own.

The frost in his hair is gone, his skin taking on a tone of warmth, a blush of cold darkening his cheeks and the tip of his nose. The marks still linger on him, pulsing lightly, and you are mesmerized by the blue eyes that no longer remind you of a dangerous beast but of a soul who carries too many burdens.

You lead him into the warmth of your cottage, but with every step he takes, the fire flickers, threatening to die down completely. A kind of darkness and cold emanate from him, yet it doesn't touch you anymore. His hand in yours is warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the atmosphere around him. You refuse to let it bother you as your heart is set ablaze. His hand slides out of yours and he takes a longer step forward to be right beside you. His hand moves onto your back, and with gentle pressure, he guides you to the seat by the window, where the silvery moonlight starts to creep in. With a rustle of feathers, he spreads his wings before sitting down on the soft cushion, pulling you with him. Not once has he averted his eyes, looking at you like you're a treasure of priceless value. The hand not resting on your lower back caresses up your arm, sending shivers through your body. This seems to amuse him as you see the curve of his lips in the dim light. You settle more comfortably into his lap, and his wings fold and reach over to you like a soft blanket.

"Tell me, Shepherd, do you remember it all now?" His knuckles brush gently over your cheek.

"I have lived so many mortal lives that I can hardly keep them all straight, so I'm still piecing it together." You rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "But I remember you in all of them, one way or another. Why do you keep calling me Shepherd, love?"

"I don't mean to be impatient with you, but I've been waiting to find you for so very long. I can call you by your new name if you would like me to." His fingers trace along your jaw and lips as he speaks. "But you are the Shepherd. My other half. I may be the god of death, but I need you to guide the souls of the deceased into the afterlife so they can be born again."

"What?" Your eyebrows move closer together in confusion. He takes your hand out of your lap to place kisses on your knuckles.

"I meant to find you sooner, my love. This winter was never meant to last so long. But it is over now. We are reunited. I have made you a lot of work. I am sorry. Some of these souls have been waiting for 50 years to move on. I reaped them from their earthly existence, I brought death, and now they need you so my brother can bring them life once again. To offer them a new beginning in spring so that my sister can fill them up with the joy of summer. Don't you remember?"

His eyes are solemn as they look into yours. Deep regret plagues them—a kind of hurt you don't remember seeing in them before. The pain is clearly etched in every line of his face.

"I will. Just keep holding me, and it will come back; it always has." You squeeze his fingers tightly, and his lips move to your wrist, brushing against your skin.

"You can ask me anything you want, love." His piercing eyes look into yours as he measures your forearm with his kisses. "Perhaps it will help."

"Your brother—he lives on a mountain, right?" You watch him carefully. "Why do you have to roam around and not him?"

"Because people don't pray for winter and only the desperate hope for death," he replies softly. His lips trail to your shoulder, and you can't see his eyes anymore. "But even if I had the power to dictate winter and death from just one little corner of the world, I still need you to put an end to it. I do not wish to turn this world into a wasteland because you still live in it. You alone can rein in the northern winds and calm the raging blizzards, for I only love you. You alone."

You feel his sharp teeth brush against the skin of your neck, and you lean back, letting out a deep sigh as you enjoy his touch. Your hand that's been resting on his chest moves to his head, your fingers lacing into his hair. You close your eyes and savor the moment, knowing that you are completely captivated by him.

"Why must gods be so cruel and jealous? To not only curse us but the whole world with it. All that because you gave your heart to me. How spiteful, they cannot kill me, so they force me into a mortal body to ensure I'm a slave to reincarnation until the end of time." Your quiet voice fills the room as you feel his mouth move to your ear.

"And I would wage another war and fall all over again just to rectify it," he whispers into your ear. "You just say the word, my sweetest love, and I will fight for an eternity, I will lay waste to everything. Until then, I will keep searching for you in each and every one of your lives."

His hand on your back pulls you tighter, and the cocoon of feathers surrounding you rustles softly as his breath gets heavy against your skin. His lips trail along your cheek until they reach yours. He moves softly, capturing your mouth with a gentle kiss that speaks of promises fulfilled and passion unleashed.

"You are so breathtakingly gorgeous," he whispers, his voice filled with love and desire, barely moving away from your lips. "No god of beauty could ever compare to you. To think you are mine... all mine."

You lean into him as his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, knowing that this love has not dwindled over the passing millennia. Your souls date back to a time before this world was created, in the Higher Plane, among other gods, you had found each other, and now, in this mortal realm, your devotion continues to burn just as brightly. His hands trace along the curves of your body, exploring every dip and valley with a hunger that matches your own. The kisses of the winter god burn on your neck as his face presses into your skin. You lean back as his fingers undo the buttons on your blouse. The fabric falls away, revealing your bare chest as his lips map every inch of it.

"Open your eyes, my darling, look at me." You hear his insistent voice as a gap forms between your bodies, "I have been waiting for too long to see them glimmer in the moonlight, for they hold all that my soul yearns for."

The god of winter and death spends most of the night worshiping your mortal body. He kisses every mark and freckle that adorn your skin like stars. He whispers poems of adoration against the scars time has etched into you. He declares his unyielding love for you in every way two people can. He leaves trails of fire in his wake that burn with his passion. Every inch of your body is a canvas for him to paint upon. His love leaves marks where his teeth have been and where his lips have lingered. His desire leaves bruises on your skin, but you know he takes care not to break your human body.

You lay in his embrace, surrounded by the massive wings that shield you from the cold he brought with him into your home. Your fingers trace patterns into his skin, your body is exhausted, but you know that dawn is creeping ever closer and the time for him to leave is near. Your eyes remain on him as he strokes along your tingling skin. His sharp gaze catches yours.

"You're staring," you say with both amusement and slight awkwardness.

"I can't help it, you're beautiful." His low voice caresses your ears.

"Why must you leave?" The words escape you.

"Because I'm the god of winter and death, my passing alone brings calamity, I cannot linger for long," he says mournfully.

"Then can't I come with you?" You say hopefully, a glimmer appears in your eyes.

"Alas, you are chained to a mortal body, and I reside in the north, far beyond human settlements, where only demons roam the dead forests. Even if my presence alone wouldn't kill you, the merciless nature of my frozen hell would. It's no place for someone as precious as you, my sweetling." You feel a slight chuckle ripple in his body. "Yet every time you wake, you ask me that same question."

"Then when will you return?" Your voice gets quieter as you see the darkness behind your window retreat.

"An army of war gods wouldn't be able to keep us apart. They tried." His voice is soft, and he touches your cheek. "I will come back once it's my turn again, the year will be guided through its seasons, and now I know where to find you. Until my return, guide the ones I have reaped back into the circle of life, sweet Shepherd. Guide them well until we meet again."

"I hope it won't be this long again, for our sake and theirs. I don't want the humans to fear you as much as they do."

"I too wish to be apart from you for as little time as possible, yet I will engulf this world in eternal winter if it means I can return to you." His voice has a sharpness to it, his words are both a promise and a threat. "Their fear means nothing to me compared to your love."

Dawn arrives too soon, the first rays of light brushing the tops of the trees acting as a warning. Your time has run out, and your fated love must bid you farewell. His touch lingers longer, the fingers tracing the outline of your face as if etching it into his memory for eternity. His stern eyes can't hide the tender look of adoration they hold for you. His lips press against yours as the layers of wings peel away from you. Before the coolness of the outside air reaches you again, your love drapes a blanket around you, never breaking away from the kiss.

You want to reach out to him, but his long fingers catch your wrists into his grasp. He holds on tight, gripping your hands with his. He pulls away slightly and places a kiss on your cheek.

"I love you, my darling," his voice whispers in your ear. You feel another firm press of his lips on your forehead. "Keep it safe for me."

"Your heart is always safe with me. I will guard it, and I will warm it when you come again." You smile as you look up into his piercing blue eyes. "I love you in every life I live."

He releases your hands, his fingers lightly brushing your chin, before he turns to leave. He steps away from your door into the snow covered yard. His majestic wings unfurl into the still air, each feather seemingly stretching out.

"Until I see you again, my sweet Shepherd!" He doesn't show you his face, but you hear the warm smile in his voice.

"Until then, darling!"

The god's quiet footsteps lead him towards the forest again. The bare feet don't make a single noise, and the white robe emits only the slightest rustle. He might be leaving, but the world itself seems fundamentally different to you than it did yesterday. Even as he disappeared, leaving snow and ice behind and a coolness in your chambers, the dawn that came brought new colors with it you had never seen before in this lifetime.

This was originally going to be smut, but I got carried away and then it didn't seem right anymore. If my brainrot doesn't pack its bags in the next few days then I might make a part 2 that follows the original plan...

There is now a smutty Part 2.

And even a 3rd installment.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

#trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #trigun 98 #trigun maximum #millions knives #knives x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #plant boi #writing #knivesxreader

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quitealotofsodapop · 8 days

Note

When Yuebei wad born, Wukong most CERTAINLY went into a medical coma as well. Like, no joke... in Century Egg au, Wukong had gone into labor with potentially he best case scenario and still almost died... wit Yuebai in Slowboiled we've got a Wukong who's been several centuries overdue, had his magic literally running on empty during time, the moment he gets even somewhat decent he then gets strapped to a web and used as a battery, only to then have a madrush that took at minimum the better part of a month and was most likely more to find a weapon, then his powers were fucking short circuited in a magic barrier and then drained even more. Another madrush this time being pushed by his own deceased mate who he is fairly certain hates him and wants him dead, burned by Samhadi Fire, fought an ice with, and then possessed by said ice witch and forced to be used as a weapon against his own troupe, his own adopted cub and mate included. And only AFTER all that he ended up going into labor in some random campsight xD

Thats a good point to bring up.

Another major distinction is that Yuebei (SlowBoiled) was present for many of Wukong's experiences along the Journey, and literally ate the entire soul of ancient being just before she was born. Wukong likely only survives birthing Yuebei because she fully consumed another being's dao (LBD) instead of his own.

And even with Macaque at his side at last, Wukong is still running on empty once the Egg is born. Yuebei is probably still hangs out in her shell for a while before hatching from all the physical/mental stress her parent just went through.

In the meantime, Wukong has disconnected from the chat and has to do a major recharge before he can start waking up again. It really scares the gang at first, but Guanyin manages to soothe their worries that Wukong's physical reaction is super normal given the circumstances.

He just eepy, give him a few minutes days.

MK: "What about the egg itself? Does it take super long to hatch?" Guanyin (honestly doesn't know): "I'll... get back to you on that." Macaque, ears fluttering happily: "Don't worry. Cub's ok for now, she's just being lazy." MK: "How can you tell?" Macaque: *points at his ears and then to the Egg, smiling wide* "She snores like Wukong does." Yuebei, safetly in Egg: *tiny snoring sounds*

It's also part of the reason Macaque is super cuddly of Wukong before and after the Egg arrives. Stone Monkey instincts tell him to provide as much warmth and emotional support as possible to his mate and his immediate troop members.

Macaque would even sacrifice his own life energy/dao to ensure Wukong survives Yuebei's arrival.

If Guanyin didn't point out something super off about his own body.

Guanyin, doing a check-up on Wukong: "Liu'er Mihou - when where you buried?" Macaque, confused: "Buried? The heck you talking about? When I died I'm pretty sure my whole body got dragged into the Underworld." Guanyin, eyes widening: "Oh-no." Macaque: "What oh-no?" Guanyin: *performs a small spell on Macaque's stomach. Two distinct egg-shaped silhouettes appear* Macaque: *struck silent* Guanyin: "It appears that the Lady Bone Demon physically taking you into her Realm, and likely beneath the earth, caused your body to respond in the same manner as Wukong's when he was buried by the Buddha's hand." Macaque: *pokes stomach* "...why is there two?" Wukong, groggily after days of medical coma: "Two what??" Macaque & Guanyin: *shrieks of joy!*

Yuebei hatches shortly thereafter, causing greater celebration amongst the little troop. Macaque decides to tackle his problem later.

#slow boiled stone egg au #sun wukong #pregnancy tw #stone egg talk #lmk aus #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk guanyin

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zelphin124 · 5 months

Text

Christmas Special - Where is Dream in XPAU?

I am pouncing upon the motivation to write this while it's here... Don't worry the rest of the short story prizes are coming soon...

Christmas Party AU belongs to @xpau-official (I can't draw but I CAN write)

DON'T BLAME ME FOR THE DRUMMER/SUN SHIP! @cakesmelons YOU STARTED THIS- (:

Dream belongs to Joku

Seasontale Sanses belong to me

Anyway, where is Dream in the XPAU?

Read on to find out.

~o0o~

When the invitation said the place would be cold, Dream didn't think it would be this cold. His surroundings were covered in snow, and the cold wind bit at his bare bones.

He shivered, wishing he had brought a bigger coat. All he could see was the snowy mountains and the icy glaciers that covered them. The sky was dark with stormy clouds. He saw his breath and shivered in the cold; even his tongue froze. Dream wasn't sure how much more of this weather he could take.

Something loomed in the distance beyond the mountains. It was tall and rose above the clouds. Its ebony pillars contrasted with the purity of the snow around it. That looks like some form of shelter, Dream reasoned. As his feet sunk in the snow, the positive took slow and steady steps toward the palace.

He didn't remember how long it took him to get there. What he did know was that by the time he did, ice froze along his nose, fingers, and skull. He shivered violently as he held his arms. He prayed beyond hope that his light wouldn't be snuffed out... If he could just...

His hand landed on the big ebony gates. The single knock echoed through the building. The gates themselves were at least twenty feet tall. Dream wondered why the gates had to be so big if there weren't giants here.

The only giants he knew of were the ones within the deep sea of the original timeline.

With a loud clang, one of the gates swung open. A skeleton walked out, looking around. His eyes matched the pink flowers plastered all over his skull. He was covered in a green garment with a pink corset. There seemed to be no end to the flowing cape behind him. He was decorated in various yellow accessories, and his gaze was kind in patient.

"H-Hi-" Dream stuttered, waving softly. He tried to communicate that he needed a place to stay, but his jaw was shaking too much to formulate any words. "C-Cold-"

"Oh, dear Season, you poor thing!" The skeleton immediately grabbed Dream's hand and pulled him inside. "You need warmed up! You have been out in the cold for too long!"

Dream didn't have the energy nor the willpower to resist. The stranger's hand was so warm and soft, he didn't want to let go.

The skeleton slammed the gate behind him, stopping the wind from biting his bones. "Come, come," he urged, grabbing Dream's hands again. "There's a fire in the living room and I'll cook you up some ramen and hot cocoa, okay?"

"Th-th-thank you-" Dream barely got the words out. He wondered if the skeleton was paying attention to him, or if he was so rushed to get him warm.

He sat Dream down on the couch closest to the fire. Before Dream could say anything, he whipped around, grabbed some blankets, and wrapped Dream in them. He was snug as a bug by the time the stranger stood back.

"That should help, a lot, and the ramen will help your insides too," he ran his warm head over Dream's skull. "I'm Spring, holler if you need anything, okay?"

Once Dream nodded, Spring ran into the kitchen. There were various clangs and clunks before the soft sound of water boiling echoed the room.

Dream's eyes grew heavy as he started to observe his surroundings. The blankets that warmed his body were made of thick yarn and had a soft flower pattern on them. Dream felt his body sinking into the comfortable couch by the moment. The fire licked the stone before it as it accompanied the lights around the room.

The lights... they weren't normal lights Dream was used to. They were festive lights. Many colors glimmered across the living room, giving the place a cozy and holiday feel. They hung from the beams above the other furniture and along the stairs, which were the furthest thing from Dream. To his right was an entryway to a much larger room, which Dream guessed was a training ground of sorts by the number of weapons lying around in there. Beside the fire was another entryway where Spring went. To his left was the tunnel to the big gates he had seen earlier.

The place was filled with the smell of peppermint, milk, ramen, and pine. Somehow, the combination of smells drooped Dream's eyes even more. It had been a long time since he had gotten to just relax and not worry about a threat nearby. The carpets on the floor were very subtle but colorful, and the place itself gave off a blue, gray, and brown vibe.

Swoosh~

A bright light flashed in the room a nanosecond before Dream felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hello, Dream~"

Dream spun his head around to see a new skeleton smirking down at him. This skeleton was yellow; so yellow he shined like a highlighter. He wore a crown like the positive, only it had a diamond in the center. His face had a sun on his cheek and a star in the middle of his sun-struck eyes. The skeleton's ribcage was exposed, accompanied by red pants, white shoes, and a long, yellow jacket that fell to his ankles. Everything about him screamed solar flare, and his smile was incredibly charming.

"Oh, hello!" Dream's smile beamed back at him. He was happy he could talk normally again. "Who are you?"

The skeleton smirked wider when he saw Dream's smile. Walking around the couch, he sat next to him, staring into his soul. "The name's Summer, darling~"

"What a lovely name!" Dream complimented. "Do you know Spring? He's the one that brought me in here, I hope I'm not intruding..."

"Not at all sunshine," Summer rested his arm across the top of the sofa. "It's a pleasure to see you! We don't get visitors often."

"That's a shame, you guys are very welcoming." He glanced around the room again, wondering where Spring went. "How did you know my name?"

"Everyone knows the ray of positive sunlight, dear," Summer tilted his head, following his gaze. "If anything, you're a king, and we are honored to have you here."

A blush covered the positive's face. "O-Oh, thank you! Are you..." he tried to change the topic. "What are the lights for? Are you guys celebrating Christmas?"

"Christmas?" Summer's smile faded as he looked at the ground. "What's that?"

Before Dream could explain, Spring came back with two bowls of ramen in his hand. "Here you go, Dream. Let me know if tastes okay, alright?" He smiled softly before glancing over at Summer. "Here's your bowl, I figured you'd be hungry."

"I hope you cooked some up for yourself as well, Spring," Summer nodded in thanks as he took the bowl and started to eat.

"I'll try," Spring sighed before he sat down in a chair facing them. "How are you feeling?"

"Better!" Dream smiled sweetly. "Thank you for your kindness!"

"Of course!" Spring shrugged, watching Summer scoot closer to Dream.

"What? I like the darling's presence! Haven't felt this way in a long time. He mentioned something about 'Christmas,' though I don't know what that is."

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Spring fidgeted with his hands.

The positive was finally able to take off some of the blankets, having been warmed by the fire. "I just asked what the lights were for."

"Oh!" Spring's eyes lit up with joy, glancing at the tiny bulbs that flickered like fireflies. "It's for Solstice! It's a holiday twice a year that we love to celebrate!"

Dream followed his gaze. His smile was contagious, and for once, Dream felt happy apart from his positive aura. His eyes drooped. "That's... amazing."

Summer pulled on Dream's shoulder, encouraging him to scoot closer. "You look tired bud," he commented. "Feel free to rest, we will be here for you."

The warmth of the fire and the kindness of the strangers made Dream feel so at ease. He agreed and leaned on Summer's shoulder. "You guys are so nice..."

"We try to be!" Spring grabbed a blanket from the chest and pulled it over his own legs. "Well, we do. Autumn and Winter don't care too much."

"There's more of you?" The ray of sunshine asked.

"Yeah," Summer confirmed. "Speaking of, there they are."

Dream opened his eyes to watch a small, red skeleton walk through the training grounds entryway. He stomped his feet and shook his head. His red leafy eyes glared at everything he looked at. He had a simple red jacket and brown shorts. Two delicate katanas hung from his side.

Behind him was a much taller skeleton. He was wide and covered in a complex blue suit. His eyes were snowflakes and often rotated. He had a stoic gaze and set down a large hammer at his side. He removed the larger jacket, leaving a simple navy shirt covering his ribs.

The one Dream guessed was Autumn spoke first. "Who's the hig-" he paused as Winter tapped him on the head. Autumn rolled his eyes and walked up to Dream, extending his hand. "Autumn, I assume Spring let you in?"

"I did," Spring stood up, greeting Winter before resting a hand on Autumn's shoulder. "Autumn, Winter, this is Dream, the guardian of positivity."

Dream wasn't sure how they all knew he was the guardian of positivity. However, he was in no place to question them.

"What brought you here?" Winter asked, his voice low. When he spoke, it sent rumbles through the floor. "How did you stumble upon our alternate universe?"

"I was looking for a party I got invited to." Reaching under his cloak, he pulled out an invitation from Swap. It read XPAU - Featured Guest on the top. Dream sighed, he might have missed the party since he got lost.

Summer rested his head on Dream's, reading the invitation. "Looks like a fun party," he smirked.

"I guess I got lost trying to find my way there... I feel bad I didn't attend I really didn't want to miss it..."

Autumn sat down next to Winter on the other couch in front of the fire. "Parties are lame," he commented. "Nothing good really happens at them."

Dream wasn't convinced as the sadness ate him whole. "All my friends..."

"It's okay, I'm sure they'll understand," Spring smiled, trying to reassure him.

Winter stood up and stretched before walking over to the fire. He barely glanced at Dream in the moment of silence, which was broken by his low voice. "You could celebrate Solstice with us, if you'd like."

Dream made eye contact with Winter. "Really?"

"I don't see why not," Winter shrugged. "You're a guest. As long as you are good to us, the others, and our stuff... you're welcome to stay."

"Thank you," Dream smiled. "I... I don't know what to say."

"No need to say anything doll," Summer cooed. "It's our pleasure."

Dream didn't notice at Autumn disappeared until he came back with a gift in his hand. He set it on Dream's lap. "It was for Summer, but you can have it."

Summer's smile faded. "Hey-"

"Don't bicker you two," Spring interrupted them before Autumn could hurl an insult. "It's the holidays, and we have a guest! Let him have the gift."

"Go on, open it," Winter smiled, adjusting his position on the floor to face Dream.

They're all so nice to me... So welcoming too... Dream couldn't help but blush as he tore open the gift. He picked it up to reveal a necklace that shimmered like a million stars. The center of the necklace had an intricate circle separated into four parts. There was a fourth of a snowflake, sun, flower, and a leaf. It was simple, but beautiful.

"Don't take it personally, it's not like I wanted to give it- OW!" He snarled at Winter who tapped his head again. "Ugh, just... hope you like it."

"Happy Solstice, Dream," Winter smiled. "You're free to stay here as long as you like. We are going to the villages tomorrow to spread some gifts and joy."

"Keep that necklace as a reminder you're always welcome here!" Spring blushed. "Feel free to come stay with us anytime!"

"We hear great things about ya," Summer added, rubbing Dream's arm with his hand. "It's the least we can do to honor your presence."

He didn't know that he could feel so happy and loved. It didn't take Dream long to consider the four seasons as friends. He felt welcomed, he felt at peace.

He felt happy.

"Spring, prepare the guest room, will ya?" Winter asked. "I'll work on dessert. Do you wish to join us for the festival, Dream?"

All the seasons stared at the guest, each in their own, hopeful way. They enjoyed his company, and the positive enjoyed there's. Let's hope Ink and Blue don't get too worried about me...

"Yes, I'd like to join you guys. Thank you."

#xpau #utmv #seasontale #winter sans #spring sans #summer sans #autumn sans #dream sans #dream x summer #xmaspartyau #undertale au #sans au #creative dumpster idea

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winterpower98 · 1 year

Note

I come to you with important news! (Not really, but it sounds more fun this way xD)

Remember the snake scissors Jin and Yin had in episode 1 of season 4?

I incorporated them into my AU!

Jin and Yin now have tiny pet snakes in my AU! :D

(Sorry, I just felt the need to share that with someone xD)

Here, take this tiny doodle of the sleepy snake babys, while I mull over what to name them! :3

~*~

LOOK AT THE BABIES!

I love them, they need tiny sweaters on them

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #fire ice and bone au #winter answer #winterpower98

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aniflowers · 1 year

Photo

FIB-Au x Cursed AU Crossover!

Fun little idea I had of what would happen if my “Fire, Ice and Bone” AU twins would meet their counterparts from @winterpower98 ‘s “Cursed AU”! :3

As I kind of explained in THIS post, Jin and Yin kind of had a falling out in my AU. While Yin joined LBD’s side, Jin joined MK’s side, where he got promptly picked up by Mei and became friends with her. Now Yin thinks his brother replaced him.

Meanwhile, Cursed AU Jin and Yin alredy are done and over with this sort of thing xD Having sorted out all possible “You stole my brother” acusations in “Sibling Fight”.

Sooo, needles to say, FIB!Yin wouldn’t be to happy to see that even in other universes Jin “replaced” him with the dragon girl. Meanwhile Cursed!Yin would try using his own experience with that to reasure FIB!Jin.

Other funny random detail:

In my AU, Jin and Yin are just barely halfe a head taller than Mei and Mk. Meaning by implication, this would also make them roughly a head shorter than their Cursed AU counterparts! Which I just find kind of hilarious? It gives them “little siblings” vibes if put next to the Cursed Au twins! xD

“Fire, Ice and Bone” AU Masterpost

“Cursed AU” Masterpost

Pictures without speach bubbles:

Sketches:

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year

Text

(no longer updated)

masterlists || rules and fandoms list || wip’s list || prompt’s lists || love letters || disclaimer: some of my works may have nsfw content in addition to the yandere genre. if you are sensitive to these topics, I recommend not reading.

⤷ genre: yandere/dark au.

✿.｡ requests are CLOSED/asks and concept are always open.彡 rules and fandoms 彡 emoji prompt list 彡 prompts list 彡 kinktober 2023 masterlist 彡 wip’s list: I, II, III, IV, V ✿.｡

⤷ BTS : 💜

⤷ BLACKPINK : 🖤

⤷ ITZY : 🧡

⤷ Stray Kids : 💙

‘‘Love you so bad, love you so bad, mold a pretty lie for you.’‘

⤷ Greek Mythology : ⚡

⤷ Egyptian Mythology : 𓂀

⤷ Historical Characters : 📜

‘‘We are the lovesick girls, you can’t just end this love on your own.’‘

⤷ The Vampire Diaries/The Originals : 🧛

⤷ House of the Dragon : 🐉

⤷ Game of Thrones : ❄️

⤷ The Sandman : ⌛

⤷ Outlander : 🗿

⤷ Wednesday : 🎻

⤷ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir : 🐞

⤷ Brooklyn Nine-Nine : 👮‍♂️

⤷ Bridgerton : 🐝

⤷ Shadow and Bone : ☠️

⤷ Outer Banks : 💰

‘‘Yeah, we were born to be alone but why we still looking for love?’‘

⤷ Percy Jackson : 🌊

⤷ Harry Potter : 🔮

⤷ A Court of Thorns and Roses : 🌹

⤷ A Song of Ice and Fire : 🔥

‘‘Love it’s so mad, love it’s so mad, trying to erase myself and make me your doll.’‘

⤷ Attack On Titan : 🗡

‘‘I’m the one I should love in this world.’‘

⤷ Marvel : ۞

‘‘I finally realized so I love me, not so perfect but so beautiful.’‘

‘‘Dearest (Y/N),

We are very happy to hear that you are back with us. It's been so long since we could hold you that we even forgot the feeling. We missed you during your absence and were almost worried to death when we learned of your disappearance. You almost had us dead! Don't ever do it again or you'll see the consequences and you know they won't be good. Or will they be? Only time will tell.

For now, we'll just leave you this letter as a reminder. But don't worry, you have a lot of letters to read and more will follow. We will send them with all the passion of a writer completely in love with its muse.

With love,

Your yanderes completely in love with you.’’

⤷ Love Letters : 💕

⤷ Love Letters II : 💕

‘‘Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’’

Thank you all so much for the kind comments and for supporting my writing despite my english not being the best. I love you all! ❤️ All the best to you guys and stay hydrated!!

₊˚.✦*:･there a̶r̶e̶✧乀✿one of☆˚˖੭ those days•.꒰˖days whe̶n̶ I✧ৎ⋆s u d d e n t l y feel♡.*⊱all a̶l̶o̶n̶e̶❛ ━ :❘❘↴when i feel˘.+*✦like I d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ !¡❞♕‵̤ belong anywhere.:✧°whenever t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ days°⊹come, you+tell⋆̥˚̣̣̣͙❞me❀⊰｡how p̶r̶e̶c̶i̶o̶u̶s̶ i am▾₊˚i become a.✩*⊹very special me₊˚.*:you make m̶e̶˘.+*feel s p e c i a l¸*.❀

⤷ cited songs: Fake Love ;; Lovesick Girls ;; Epiphany ;; Toxic ;; Feel Special

#masterpost #masterlist #masterlists #wip #wips #rules #fandoms #yandere #yandere au #love letters #yandere love letter #emoji #emoji prompt #lists #emoji prompt list #prompt list #prompts list #kinktober

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Wasted 6

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

The other girl in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

The lights flash in tandem with the poppy beats. Bodies writhe, voices bubble, and alcohol flows. You’re bumped by a dancer nearby but ignore them as you let the drink in your hand spill over the rim. It’s the first time you’ve been wholly uninterested in a cocktail. It’s your bait, and if need be, your cover.

Your eyes search, finding little out of the ordinary. It won’t be easy to spot him, you’re sure. There’s couples all around, drinks carelessly left on tables or swishing in hand. There’s no shortage of sexual tension or drunkenness here.

The bartender signals and draws your attention. There’s a small girl flitting around behind the bar with him; not his usual accomplice. You couldn’t help but pity the bandage around his finger that had him slow in mixing. You have your own troubles.

You slip your phone out and text your new partner-in-crime. You’re not entirely sure she’ll do much but she’s oddly loyal and rather endearing. She has the kind of I don’t give a shitness that you admire. Not your own repressed stoicism but a genuine lack of caution.

You stare at the phone for a minute, waiting for the small icon to show if she’s read the message. It doesn’t change and you sigh as you lower the screen. It might take her a moment.

You wave through the crowd, hands wander, grope, and you dodge a few stumbling men here and there. You turn back, not sure what you’re looking for. Your plan is starting to seem less tenable as your anger succumbs to practicality.

You look at your phone again. Still no answer.

Well there is a last ditch idea. A trap you can only hope works. You put your cup on a table nearby. You give a bit of a sway trying to act tipsy before you drag your hand away. You pretend to dance and forget about it, hoping to retreat to some corner where you can watch for predators.

As you shimmy your hips and peek over your shoulder, you bump into a stealthy figure moving in the opposite direction. You bounce off of them and catch your balance, keeping your cool as you face the bullish man. Long dark hair beneath a ballcap, a black bomber jacket, and a gleam in his eye that turns your blood to ice.

‘It's alright, baby, you'll feel it soon.’

An echo slithers in your brain, itching in your ears as you wince. You stare at the man, brows drawing together. You smell vodka and feel a cold splash of deja vu. You know him. You blink as the memory of the bar flickers in your mind.

“Hey,” you point at him, “you owe me a drink.”

Your own words slap you with another strike of familiarity. He tilts his head and chuckles, waiving away your pointing finger. You retract your hand, lightning zipping from his touch. Your heart hammers.

“Fucker!” You bark and lunge for him, “it was you–”

He catches your wrists before you can latch onto his jacket. He squeezes until your bones ache and he pulls you off kilter. You try to stomp his feet as fire scours your insides. A dull pulsing awakens in your core.

“Come back for more,” he taunts as he backs you up, “what’s say we go somewhere classier than the dumpster?”

“Get off of me,” you sneer, twisting your arms helplessly.

You hit another couple and a girl squeals as her partner growls in your direction. The stranger, your accoster, snaps at him to back off. His order is potent.

“Fuck off me!” You try to yank free. “Fuck OFF!”

“You keep fighting and I’ll have to bash you harder,” he warns as he angles you through the crowd, keeping you on your heels as you try not to topple, “I’m gonna take me time tonight.”

He flings you forward and you stagger backwards, arms swinging for a stronghold as you barrel down the hallway. You hit the wall and slip to one knee. Your phone flies against the opposite wall and you look up at the man advancing on you.

“Scream,” he speaks above the music, “do whatever the fuck you want. They’re not gonna hear you.”

He grabs you by the throat before you can fend him off. He lifts you to your feet and you punch his shoulders as he turns you, your back colliding with a door that swings inward. He pushes you inside and spins with you, pinning you against the inside of the door.

The wall quakes with the sheer force of the booming music. Your voice is swallowed up as you holler and curse at the man and his grabbing hand. He won’t stop , swiping, scratching, and groping at you, pulling up the tattered hem of your denim skirt.

“You bastard!” You shriek and you scratch at his neck, kicking around his legs as he keeps his hand around your throat, “let me go–”

“You’re giving me mixed signals there, baby,” he leans in to snarl in your ear, “coming back to find me if you didn’t want some fun…” he pushes his hand against your jaw until it’s forced shut. “If it makes it easier, I got some molly you can pop.”

“Gooorffffffyyssslllllll,” the gibberish can barely rasp through your clench teeth as your ‘go fuck yourself’ is lost to the cacophony.

“Don’t say I didn’t offer you a good time,” he shoves his other hand against your panties, poking his middle finger between your folds, “be a good girl and you won’t wake up with the garbage.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the club #wasted #drabble #series #mcu #marvel #winter soldier

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dxrksong · 1 year

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An evolution: How Danny turned his entire town into a cult.

CotL and DP x DC au

The timeline started off the same but the moment it turned into a branching path was when Ember and YoungBlood kidnapped all the adults and Danny rallied the kids and teens into an army.

But instead of slipping away to transform, he did it in front of everyone and asked everyone to keep his secret from the adults since they would never understand and would want to get rid of him.

Of course they all agreed, the younger population of amity were more open minded then the adults anyhow.

After that, the entire younger population of the town were often seen helping Phantom out by either evacuating areas of fights. Or even taking up ghost hunting lessons.

The fentons may be idiots but they do know what they're doing most of the time.

-----

So when Pariah Dark shows up, the town is throughly protected. The younger generation had proved time and time again that they could take up the mantle when Phantom couldn't.

Danny started getting careless of his well being. Started drowning in his hero complex to the point of shattering his own core in exertion.

Danny with toe to toe with Pariah Dark and when it seemed Danny was about to lose, Danny pushed past his exhaustion and started sacrificing his body to push Pariah back.

Everyone watched in horror as Danny managed to actually BEAT him in single combat as his body started destabilizing.

Danny locked Pariah away once more before he collapsed with a SPLAT, ectoplasm leaking out of the endosuit.

Vlad, of course, tried to rush to Danny's side, but before he could get too close the ectoplasm MOVED and congealed into the rough shape of a hand and grabbed Vlad before SQUEEZING him tightly.

Danny, who fell out of the suit at some point, staggered to his feet, glaring at vlad with a singular eye. The entire left side of his face was melting, the eye completely gone green as his lips slowly dripped.

It was then that Vlad could see in Danny's other hand was the crown of fire, the ring of rage sitting innocently on the floor between them.

Danny stepped forward, stepping on the ring with a slap, grinning. As he now had kept all artifacts of power away from the biggest nuisance of his half life. Danny reared his arm back.

And promptly yeeted Vlad out of the nearest window.

-------

Satisfied that there were no more immediate threats to him, Danny turned towards the throne and more or less collapsed onto it, before passing out.

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

FrightKnight kneeled before the throne, giving his king his crown and ring as his young leage was too weak at the moment to do it himself.

He honestly didn't expect to wake up. But when he did he was mostly stabilized again.

And I say mostly because his left eye hadn't seemed to recover before he woke up, it being a completely ecto green.

The rings of transformation startled him out of his thoughts as he transformed back to Fenton. He looked into the mirror again to see his left eye just had a permanently green Iris instead of straight up ecto.

However that was all the time he had as his parents bursted through his bedroom door. Apparently fright knight had took him back to his haunt and Jazz found him, taking him home before calling her parents.

'Well...' he thought as he proceeded to be completely fussed over by his parents. 'That was weird.'

-----

Since the accident Danny had been getting slightly more unhinged than he usually was. He went from protective to possessive. He went from territorial to straight up hostile sometimes.

The other times, he was kind and negotiable, letting certian ghosts do their own thing as long as they behaved. And he even spared with those that wanted to.

---

It wasn't hard to figure out what changed with the now red glow of his singular eye.

--------

The crystal of ice cracked that day, exhausted and stressed.

But like broken bones, it is lucky it is so young.

Time will heal all wounds.

But some scars will never fade.

As ghost king, new things had been unlocked for him. And that included being able to be summoned, appointing souls as his, commanding ghosts, and a much newer power: the ability to mark someone.

The outside world is dangerous afterall and he can't keep an eye on everyone. So the markings alert him in emergencies!

Of course, as a spirit of protection and Space, he couldn't just let his people leave without a way to contact him. He's not a monster.

He tried to keep them home. Keep them safe. But he quickly found that when people are unable to leave, they'd want to leave the most

The markings themselves are in the shape of his symbol and often invisible on one's skin until activated or near ectoplasm.

And the best part was, it's generational too! So unless Danny himself takes it of, it's on all the decendents of good old Amity Park!

And as the decades and centuries go by. Amity had turned into a folk tale, hidden in the forest of Illinois that never seems to shrink or grow.

And of course new heroes take the stage that Danny had laid out for them, causing Danny to relax slightly more, knowing he wouldn't have to interfere nearly as much as before.

Giving him plenty of time to give his undivided attention to his spouses and family.

Sam, Tucker, Danielle, Dash, Valarie, Jazz, Dan, Wes, and Vlad have become minor deities in Danny's ever growing cult, each becoming a symbol that is remembered in town by the carvings of stone statues scattered around the park.

Sam; nature and Harvest.

Tucker; technology and history.

Danielle: freedom

Dash: the knight

Valarie: the hunt

Jazz: the mind

Dan: redemption

Wes: knowledge

Vlad: wealth and thoughtless love SIMPING

It seems someone vandalized Vlad's statue...

----

So when the justice league had gotten an anonymous tip about a city turned into a cult by a powerful spirit, they of course went to investigate.

They certainly weren't expecting the people to set up a barrier not even Constantine could break with his magic and summoned their diety in "mom come pick me up, I'm scared" fashion.

Danny, of course. Had 100% knew they were coming. And walked up to the barrier smugly.

Things quickly escalated, with Danny's "insane like" preaching of keeping all his subjects safe. And getting quite over protective when asked if they could speak to any of the civilians.

And of course someone had even suggested that the citizens were under mind control.

Not to mention the way they treat clones over there.

Oh yeah, did he forget to mention he adopted all the clones in the world? Because he did. Every Tim clone, he quickly snatched from death and rehabilitated. SuperBoy? He called the clone to him via dreams.

Did you know Luther is the descendent of Paulina? Distant, of course. But enough so that Danny had easy access to Superboy's Mark to call him home.

Needless to say, Superman and Danny are on the other's shit list as Danny tries to adopt Conner.

Oh and he 100% has Constantine's soul and has adopted him too.

Danielle's statue had a recent modification. Usually vandalism would be punished but the town let this slide.

Danielle: freedom (and clones)

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