#I’m never gonna draw him this detailed ever again so eat up kids

[crystalmagpie447]

Ohmygosh

I keeP adding stuff LMAO

I’m gonna do the lighting now but I know a lot of the detail is gonna get covered up pfftt

but I’m pretty proud of it so here you go 👍👍

#ECLIPSE MY BELOVED #gives him a smooch #Twirls hair at my own drawing #I’m never gonna draw him this detailed ever again so eat up kids #CRIES #PFFTTT #eclipse sb #Myart #ecplosions #Kablooie #fnaf secruity breach #fanart #my design #teehee

[loveinhawkins]

Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”

“I’m bored.”

“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”

Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.

“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.

“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.

“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.

Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”

But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.

Hmm.

“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.

“He’s dead,” Max points out.

Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.

“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”

“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.

“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”

“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.

Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”

Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”

“How about I stick my flair right up your—”

“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”

Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.

“Fire away, Munson.”

“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”

Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”

Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.

“What?”

“The affair shift.”

“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”

“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”

“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”

Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.

“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.

Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”

And they’re off.

It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.

And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.

“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”

The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”

And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.

Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.

They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.

“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”

“Thought what?”

Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.

Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.

Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.

Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.

Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…

Well, so what?

Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.

They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.

#oh missing scenes how i love you ❤️ #steddie #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve and the party #steve and dustin #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #let steve be silly and have fun agenda <3 #steve and robin

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

#anonymous #when.... when.... WHEN IS IT MY TURN #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot imagines #no because he's the love of my whole life #jean fluff #jean smut #eren x reader

[ygreczed-3]

The Walking Dead/Detroit Become Human AU

(so basically I was tempted to make a post to apologize about the mess my blog has become lately - feels like I’m posting AUs, artworks, sketches and comic updates in such a chaotic way… I’m really sorry about it ahaha 😅 Hopefully it will get better soon)

So this post is me drawing for hours and forgetting to eat on my break day (I finally did !!! Don’t worry ahaha) because I became obsessed with an idea again. Also I like to make concept arts and storyboards as if I was working on a professional project for a TV show/animation. I find it fascinating ! This time I don’t really have any plot or finished story, I just wanted to draw these scenes badly so… I just did.

I’d like to draw your attention to Connor’s curly hair and Hank’s design (strongly inspired by Kristoff from Frozen). I just LOVE these details.

⚠️Remember this is NOT a new series. Just me having fun with characters and a universe I like (aka The Walking Dead) ! 

Anyway, more ideas below 👀

*POW*

Hank open his eye again. The walker was shot in the head. Hank pushes the walker away, it falls dead on the concrete.

Looking up, he sees Connor with a gun.

Hank : Jesus… Thank you.  I thought I was…

Connor : I wouldn’t have wasted a bullet for you if it wasn’t for your kid back there. Your car, does it work? Hank : … Yeah… I just… I was looking for some gas when… well… Can I drive you somewhere? Connor : Not really, I’m looking for someone.

___________________________

Hank and Cole are walking in a gas station with jerricans and pour what’s left of gas from the pump.

Cole : Dad, that mister from earlier, do you think he’s gonna be okay ? Hank : I think, pumpkin. He was the one helping us. Cole : Being alone sounds dangerous… He should have come with us. Hank : …

___________________________

It’s nighttime, Cole is sleeping in the backseats with a blanket, Hank is sleeping in the driver seat. He wakes up brutally as he hears something tapping softly against the car window : the young man from earlier. He rolls the window down.

Hank : You ? Connor : I’ve looked around the whole city. Now it’s too dark… I need a safe place to have some sleep, I was thinking you could let me in. You owe me after all. Hank : … Yeah sure. Get in.

Connor gets in the car. He takes his bag off and keeps it by his side, out of Hank’s reach. He takes his coat off but keeps a gun near him. Hank stares at him with narrowed eyes.

Hank : … You’re safe here, really. You can trust me. Connor : Sorry, but I only trust myself.

___________________________

It’s dark outside, Hank can’t really sleep with the stranger next to him. His guts dictate him to stay alert. He watches carefully as Connor turns his head to him, half-opening his eyes.

Connor: Can’t sleep ? Hank : … Well you were right… I don’t know you. What about you ? Did you sleep a little ? Connor : … No. I’m too… cautious. My brain won’t let me sleep with a stranger next to me. Hank : … My name’s Hank. You ? Connor : What the hell are you doing ? Hank : We agreed we couldn’t sleep next to strangers. I’m introducing myself. Connor : It won’t make it any better… *after a silence* I’m Connor. Hank : Nice to meet you. Connor: … Where were you before ? You… you act like a newborn in this hell… Hank : … I had a neighbor with one of those bunkers… with tons of food, water, enough to live for months. We… We were hiding there with her until… until a few weeks. Connor : What happened ? Hank : She thought she had heard a chopper. Thought someone was out there to rescue us… she opened the hatch and she was… attacked by those things… Connor: … the kid… he’s yours? Hank : Yeah… Cole. Connor: … Where’s her mom ? Hank : He’s never known her. Connor: Sorry.  Hank : Don’t be.

*silence*

Hank : I think… I’m starting to relax… we should try to sleep huh ?

Connor is already sleeping.

___________________________

Connor takes his backpack as Hank and Cole take a breakfast with some fire.

Hank : You sure you don’t want to eat anything ? Connor : No thanks, I have my own stock. You should save your food for your kid. Hank : … Hey, if you ever need to find us… after you’ve found what  you’re looking for, I have a police radio. Frequency 58,7 kHz. Connor: I won’t need it but- thanks. Good luck.

Connor leaves.

___________________________

Cole : What should we do now? Hank : … We need to find more food… and weapons. I’ll go downtown today. You… You’ll stay here alright? Cole : No I… I want to stay with you… Hank : I know you’re scared Cole… But it’s too dangerous. You’ll be safe hidden in the car. Cole : You’ll be quick? Hank : Back before sunset, pinky swear.

___________________________

Hank finds an axe on a bar counter.

Suddenly : *BONG BONG BONG BONG*

Hank : What the-

He runs outside and hides against a wall as walkers pass nearby, heading to the source of the ringing.

He looks up and sees Connor climbing on a ladder but a Walker is trying to grab his leg.

Hank comes and kills the monster. Connor : You..! Follow me !

On the rooftop, they see the church. It’s an automatic bell, the walkers are massively getting around the building. There is something painted on the wall that says “Find Jericho” with black paint and scribbled under it “Find 9s”

Connor : Nines… Hank : What is Jericho ? Connor : … A safe place for survivors. It’s hidden… to keep the thieves and killers away. Hank : … The church. Connor : What ? Hank : Jericho, it has to do with the bible. The message is written on a church’s wall. It’s not a coincidence, there might be… a hint in there. Connor : … But we can’t get inside with those creeps around… Hank : … Maybe they leave when the church stops ringing the bells. Connor : Or maybe we should try to lead them away with… Hank : With what ? Connor : … Your car.

___________________________

Connor : So, let me get it straight. You drive around the town honking. It will attract the creeps away from the church. I get inside the church and look for any kind of hint. When the bells start ringing I get out before the creeps come back. And what do we do with Cole ?

Hank : He’s going with you. I don’t want to have him in the car with hundreds of undeads trying to get me. Connor : … I don’t- Hank : Don’t worry. He’s a smart kid. He will do as you say. Right Cole? Cole : …Hmm. Connor: … Fine. Let’s do it.

___________________________

Connor and Cole sneak into the church. Connor kills two of the Walkers still inside the church as Cole follows him cautiously. 

Cole : … Look. *he points out a book on the altar* Connor : … It’s a bible… The chapter about the Battle of Jericho… it can’t be a coincidence. *They look up and see something written with old blood on the wall behind the altar. It says “Rahab the harlot defied the King of Jericho. Here lies the key to the fortress.”* Cole : What’s a harlot? Connor : … You should… ask your father. Now… I have to read… and think. Cole : … We only have one hour left before the bells ring again… Connor : I know.

___________________________

Connor : … I don’t get it ! There must be something I’m missing ! Cole : … Connor, I found a map ! Connor : Not now Cole, I’m trying to focus… Cole : Connor, look ! Connor : Cole please I really need-…

Cole shows him the map… there is a “9s” written on it.

Connor : Nines ! Cole : Does it help ? Connor : … I don’t know-…

The bells ring suddenly.

Connor : Crap… we have to get out of here. Give me your hand, buddy.

___________________________

Hank is waiting for them : he has lit a fire and when Cole sees him, he lets go of Connor’s hand and runs to hug his dad.

Hank : I gotcha, pumpkin. *looking up at Connor* Did you find something ? Connor : I think…  Hank : You think ? Connor : I have this map my brother left for me inside the church… there was some kind of riddle on the wall, and it must have something to do with this but… there is nothing noted on it. Hank : What’s the riddle ? Connor : “Rahab the harlot defied the King of Jericho, here lies the key to the fortress.” Rahab was a prostitute, she helped Joshua by hiding spies he sent inside the city… and Joshua spared her when he took the fortress. But I… I don’t see the connection. Hank : … Let me see the map.

Connor gives it. Cole sits next to his father, near the fire, and soon falls asleep. After some time thinking and overthinking it, Hank finally points to a town on the map. A city called Defiance.

Hank : Look. Connor : Defiance… Of course. The key lies in Rahab’s defiance… Defiance is a town… Fuck- You’re a genius…! Hank : Man, I was feeling like a Detective again… felt nice for a moment. Connor: You were a Detective? Hank : A police Lieutenant, to be specific. But yeah. Detective works too. Connor : … I don’t think the treasure hunt is done yet. You’re gonna need your supercop sense again ! Hank : … It’s good to see you all excited. Feels like meeting the real Connor under the survivor’s shell. Connor: It’s nice… that Cole and you don’t have that shell yet… humanity is a rare thing to find down there. Hank : … So, who is “Nines” ? Connor : My little brother. We lived together, in the same group of survivors. Our camp was attacked… we got separated. Hank : Looks like he’s smart. He solved the riddle all by himself. It took the two of us to understand the hint. Connor : He’s always been a nerd. Hank : Pffft… Well we should try to get some sleep. We should be able to reach Stoneton, then we’ll have to find more gas.

Hank gets up and carries Cole to the car seats.

Connor: … Hank…? Hank : Yup ? Connor : Can I… Can I come with you two ? I could go to Defiance by myself but… if you’re heading there too, maybe we could… Hank : What the heck ? Of course you’re coming with us. With our two half-brains we’re gonna need each other’s help to find Jericho and your brother, don’t you think ? Connor *chuckles* : Right.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh au #the walking dead #twd #detroit become human hank #hank anderson #dbh hank anderson #detroit become human hank anderson #hank x connor #detroit become human hank x connor #dbh hank x connor #Connor #detroit become human connor #dbh connor #hank/connor #hankcon #hankcon fic #detroit become human hankcon #dbh hankcon #hancon #dbh hancon #dbh/twd au #cole anderson #dbh cole anderson #detroit become human cole anderson

[frosted-night]

Jack Frost Designs Review

Yes it’s finally his time. This is going to include his book designs including previous incarnations in said books. There are more movie concept designs than book so, let’s dig in shall we?

This was in fact the first ever Jack Joyce designed while he came up with The Guardians Of Childhood. He even comes with his own backstory! (Which was cut. Sorry Joyce posts walls of text so it’s a girthy read.)

So instead of a young mischievous trickster, we got a much more depressing story of Jack. (Jack by default is sad obviously) but this one... It kind of hits differently and almost reminds me of the story he crafted for Pitch. A dad who tried to defend his family but through tragic events was ripped from them and changed completely. Design wise, he’s a lot more tree than snow. There doesn’t exist a colored version of this so we’ll never know if he sported winter and dull dead leaf colors rather than grassy greens.This Jack has a weird presence to him, I can’t put my finger on it. Rating: 6/10 He’s really neat! Just a little too Autumn feeling rather than a blend of both Autumn and Winter.

Nightlight feels like the baby evolution if Jack was a pokemon and that's what I’m gonna stick with. Below is a more recent version of him colored.

In all honesty that one is easier on the eyes proportion wise because sometimes Joyce has ‘interesting’ anatomy choices but we aint going into that today. It’s interesting how his hair somehow looks shorter and longer than Jack’s at the same time. Could be because the longer strands float seamlessly but star boy hair physics what can ya do. It’s a little hard to tell what is his skin and what is his armor, so that is a casuality in making a character only have one or two colors in their color scheme. I love other artist’s depictions of Nightlight but the canon one feels a little weak color wise. Rating: 5/10 Sorry, get some better LEDs and then come back.

Here we have a book Jack but I can’t entirely recall if this was used in the books or not. I digress. This design looks like him still wearing very Nightlight-esque armor/clothing and slowly growing into his new persona as Jack Frost. The intricacies are hard to make out but we’ll work with it. This one is very interesting to me because he very much looks like an older teen close to young adult. His hair looks very fluffy too. Not many complaints about this one but not much praise either.

Rating: 6/10 Not great but doesn’t stand out that much.

Remember when I said Joyce had ‘interesting’ anatomy decisions? Jack looks like he has half a head here and it bothers me GREATLY. This is the adult Jack design he went with. Supposedly he likes the opera and he sure looks it. This! Exists!! Kind of wish it didn’t. The outfit is nice but it just doesn’t fit Jack as a whole. This just screams to me that it’s someone else with a similar-ish hairstyle.

Rating: 3/10 Guess he’d be the...Phantom Of The Opera. (I’ll go home and so should he.)

And finally the final Jack. This is the one that almost exactly resembles the Jack we got in the movies(Probably because it was made after the movie but w/e) but just add a cape on him. I can’t really tell if hes got a hoodie and a cape, or just a cloak+hood on top of a sweatshirt. It isn’t too important because my thoughts on this one are obvious. Rating: 10/10 Edna Mode would have a field day with you boy.

MOVIE DESIGN TIME

Joyce claims this is a design he drafted when Leonardo DiCaprio was considered to voice Jack and I can kind of see that with how his face is drawn here. This Jack looks a lot more like a warrior and less of that trickster look. I can’t say I’m a fan of the weird antenna his hood has but his sword is really cool looking.

Rating: 4/10 Nice bow and sword but it can’t save your fashion choices.

This looks like a lanky 11-13 year old who would put rocks or slugs in my shoes and relish in my disgust. He has the exact look of a snot nose kid and I’m unsure how to feel about it.

His various hairstyles drafted here sort of make him softer looking or just more of a snot nose, no in between. Maybe even an Anime Protagonist.

The top right one almost looks like Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon if you squint. It’ll be a little hard to rate them all as one individual but why not.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate them but they aren’t my cup of tea.

AH- IS THAT A FUCKIN GREMLIN?

Oh wait no it isn’t he looks like a 10 year old. Whatever don’t feed him after midnight. The staff’s design of not being shaped like a G is an interesting tidbit but the whole design looks like he’s really young or like a troll etc. This Jack looks like he thinks girls have cooties uses outdated slang.

Rating: 4/10 This is me being generous.

It honestly looks like he hiked his pants up all the way to his chest. A late teen with horrid fashion choices once again. Not many other thoughts here.

Rating: 2/10 Get a sweater on or something.

This is one is very interesting looking to me. His clothes looked a lot more leather based and very human-like. The tatters, tears and frays all make him look like he was a victim of an accident that never changed his clothes. It makes me wonder if this Jack had the same death as the final movie Jack or something else entirely. Either way, this one looks like hes a mid to late teen which really adds to my intrigue.

This was another image that greatly resembled the design so I included it here. It almost looks like his skin is blue here which is pretty neat to me at least. He’s also got leaf motifs here, which from the first Jack design Joyce made, we can see a pattern here.

Rating: 8 /10 I was originally weirded out by his head but now its not so bad.

This Jack is definitely dressed more like a nature boy rather than him having human influenced fashion and it’s an appealing touch. The tiny leaf sprouting from his staff is also kind of cute since the designers seemed to want to put leafs somewhere on his designs. His hairstyle is also very cute but it reminds me of Sasuke Uchiha in a sense. (Not a setback for me at least)

Rating: 7/10 13 year old Jack is going thru a phase.

I thought this Jack didn’t show up again in story boards but I was wrong!

They look a little different from each other but just similar enough to pair together, so bare with me. The first one obviously has looser pants, slightly longer sleeves and got his leaf motif going. This second Jack is a VERY green. It gives the impression that this Jack made his clothes out of plants and natural materials. Again I’m not wholly sure if greens fit his color scheme but they sure went for it for a while. I can’t say I’m a fan of it because it heavily reminds me of Peter Pan.

However a very similar looking Jack could be found in this storyboard. It doesn’t look as green as the other storyboards made it out to be and looks more like dead grass. Which is a pretty nice touch.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate it but it just doesn’t vibe yknow.

Speaking of a vibe...hoo this certainly has one.  This Jack isn’t old but certainly doesn’t look very young, maybe in the 20-30 range, thats just me. He has facial features that remind me of Pitch but resembles the Jack Frost of Santa Clause 3

That being said, I wondered if him looking similar to Pitch was in the storyline of them being brothers.(Which was a scrapped thing, who knew.) He’s a bit more menacing in this design but certainly seems like he relishes in his work.

Rating: 4/10 I’d make it a lower score but I gotta give it props

NOW THIS JACK IS KINDA INTERESTING. This one looks like he’s 16 and going through a grunge phase. He’s gonna play Nirvana loudly and not turn it down even if you tell him too. His staff itself has mini icicles hanging off of it and leafs look stuck to his shirt. Did you glue or staple those on Jack? His hair also looks much longer than his other designs and I kind of dig it( Shut up I’m bias.) I’m not wholly sure why else this design has stuck with me but it just has something about it that I just love. I wish there was a full body drawing of it.

(He also kinda has the same hair as the Jack Frost in Runescape but I wont go on about that hoo hoo)

Rating: 9/10 *Bad Boy by Cascada plays in the distance*

This one definitely feels like middleschooler trying to be in a band. His sticks just resemble drumsticks to me what can I say. I’m a big fan of his shoes and his color scheme screams a hibernating tree in winter. His hair also looks like it’s covered in frost rather than it being wholly white, which is very neat!! He looks like he wants to fight but has slight hesitance. Overall a very balanced Jack.

Rating: 8/10 He’s ready for band practice

Not many thoughts here, I just found these tiny Jack designs cute. His hoodie being a jacket instead just adds to the charm of this one.

No talk to him he angy.

Rating: 6/10 fun sized boi

Now this Jack resembles the one earlier that dressed entirely in leather brown colors, however he clearly is different than that one. I’m gonna say it, he looks like a zombie or undead in this design and its pretty fucking gnarly. I don’t know whats going on with his hair but I’m gonna assume it’s just the wind making it look like that. He just has the vibe that he was once human but was turned into something else entirely. It isnt in uncanny territory but borders that. This version of Jack meeting Pitch and the others would have been *very* interesting. Rating: 7/10 Eat a twinkie Jack you’ll feel better.

The final design! I can’t complain much about this one. The way his staff subtly has a G shape and a hexagon(his signature shape) is a wonderful touch. Additionally, the way the frost is gathered mostly where his hand is such an intricate detail. His signature hoodie is iconic at this point so I can’t bad mouth that either.(I can’t anyway because there's no complaints from me here.) Although, I never understood the leather straps that his pants had or their functions. I couldn’t find any colonial outfits that resembled Jack’s pants so its a total mystery to me at least.

And I can’t go on about this design until I mention the snowflake pattern in his eyes

Pure beauty. It’s at a hue of blue that almost looks impossible to have, combined with the electric blue color of the snowflake in his eyes. The amount of detail in this movie amazes me to this day. Rating: One Great Blizzard <3/10

#rise of the guardians #guardians of childhood #jack frost #jack frost rotg #jack frost goc #jackson overland frost #nightlight #nightlight rotg #toothiana #tooth fairy rotg #e. aster bunnymund #nicholas st north #pitch black #pitch black rotg #concept art #artbook #art book #design review #my bullshit #stay tuned for Aster's review

[nightcolorz]

Random Gotham Rogues Headcanons

(In honor of all the wonderful people who wanted more after my last post, yes I see y’all)

*Jonathan has a huge sweet tooth, the poor bastard didn’t try sugar until he was like 12 and eats candy like it’s his last meal.

*He’ll forget he needs food to live for way too long and eat a gallon of ice cream or some shit that’ll give any sensible man heart palpitations and just be like “😐👍”.

*Selina tells the newer rogues she was raised by cats to freak them out, Jervis still believes her. (Tbf, Selina does walk around with a cat tail on hissing at people and purring on their laps, I don’t blame him).

*Edward has a tiktok account that he made to fule his own ego, he’s a fragile little shit, literally all of his hate comments have video responses (as you can imagine, Edward gets A LOT of hate comments).

*One time a teenager called Edward “submissive and breedable” and he was too baffled to make a clap back.

*The Rogues have a surprising amount of stans. Ivy’s fan base consists mostly of lowly simps, Joker gets stopped on the street daily by greasy redditors and zealous scene kids.

*No one likes Joker, he thinks it’s because he’s “Batman’s favorite” (it’s not).

*For a while Joker has been insistent that he fucked Bruce Wayne once at one of his many parties, no one believes him except for Harvey (begrudgingly).

*He says it’s “Perfectly in character for Bruce” as much as he may hate it.

*Selina denies everything.

*Oswald and Jonathan share solidarity as “the weird bird people”. At first Oswald was a little put off that Jonathan only held knowledge of crows but soon got over that when he realized that now he had an excuse to infodump on someone who might actually be interested.

*Every time Jonathan visits Oswald’s aviary to pick up Nightmare and Craw Oswald jumps at the opportunity to talk about his numerous birds in excess, Jonathan’s a surprisingly good listener.

*Despite Edward and Joker’s long term rivalry Edward has remained relatively civil when faced with Joker’s constant egging on. That is until one iconic day in Arkham Asylum when Edward beat the absolute, ever loving shit out of Joker in the cafeteria. To this day no one knows what exactly got him to snap, not even Joker.

*Harley keeps a scrapbook about all her misadventures + friendships as a rogue, she has a habit of taking pictures of the others at the most inappropriate times (during a heist, while being beaten to a crisp by Batman, ex).

*One time Harley asked Batman to pose for a picture to put in her scrapbook, he obliged to everyone’s surprise.

*Edward is wholly insistent that he doesn’t belong in Arkham, and is convinced he’s completely sane. He’s weirdly obsessed with the fact that Oswald is sane “as well” and will make unprompted snide remarks like: “Blackgate sounds terrific, unfortunately I’ve been misplaced among MORONS, it’s a shame that the system is too incompetent to properly judge my un-categorizable psyche.”

*Oswald usually responds with a simple “🙂👍” or “ok” to avoid conflict, disagreeing with Edward could be catastrophic.

*Art therapy is an occupational hazard for all the Arkham staff. (Seriously, who thought giving super villains an outlet to express themselves was a good idea).

*Edward can’t draw so he spends his time harshly criticizing the other rogues art, that’s caused more than a few fights. The one time Edward’s ever actually done art in art therapy was when he drew a green triangle and explained in complex detail how he colored it to perfection.

*Jonathan is no longer allowed to share his art with the group before having it reviewed by a staff member after emotionally scarring a few patients. He’s one of the few rogues who presents his art every time, just to see the disturbed looks on the others faces when he explains whatever twisted art piece he came up with this time.

*Jervis is probably the most dedicated artist of the bunch, he‘s not allowed to make himself any hats (for obvious reasons) but he’s still a very skilled seamstress and has a very interesting art style (Jervis tries not to draw anything explicitly linked to Alice in Wonderland in fear of getting repercussions, as rogues often do when they engage with their ‘personas’).

*Harvey isn’t very technically skilled in drawing, but Harv usually spices their art up enough to make it interesting. Their drawings are always two themed, as expected. One time Edward criticized a painting of theirs for being “too unrealistic” and Harv had to manually restrain himself from kicking Edward in the teeth.

*Victor can’t draw either, but he writes pretty good poetry. His writing is excessively melodramatic and flowery, and his themes even more so. Half of the presentation period is spent listening to Victor muse about the meaning of life or some shit, his poems are VERY long.

*Waylon and Ivy are the obligatory pretentious painters, both have a fondness for flowers (for very separate reasons). The two will often compare their paintings and wax poetics about the beauty of nature or some bullshit before never speaking again. That’s one of the positives of Art therapy, it brings rogues together who would otherwise not grant each other a passing glance.

*Group therapy is just as (if not more) atrocious than Art therapy.

*The only one who ever talks is Joker (and sometimes Harley, but way less).

*Joker is the embodiment of an irl troll, he does a much better job at getting responses from the other rogues in therapy than the therapists ever could (usually hostile responses but still).

*Occasionally a new and bright eyed therapist will try and coax childhood memories out of the rogues, it never ends well (usually with the rogue or the therapist in hysterics).

*The majority of the Arkham staff are either terribly unqualified or terrible period.

*Music Meister lived with Edward for a short while after escaping Arkham together but he was promptly kicked out because he wouldn’t stop singing.

*Selina and Ivy had a huge argument once because Selina’s cats nibbled on Ivy’s plants.

Okay this post is all ready super long so I’m gonna end it here, as I said last time I can always make more if you guys like these (I’m not running out of headcanons anytime soon!)

#gotham rogues #batman rogues gallery #rogues gallery #dc rogues #batman villains #batman rogues #headcannons #Gotham rogues headcanons #jonathan crane #edward nygma #jervis tetch #harvey dent #waylon jones #victor fries #selina kyle #bruce wayne #pamala isley #harleen quinzel #joker #oswald cobblepot

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Winter In the Shade X

Part X

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 3216

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None. Let me know if there is something.

A/N: Small shoutout to @callmecherie, thank you for sharing Winter in the Shade. 💚

Want to know when I post the next part? Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The days turned gloomy after the last time Sirius saw you last. He was in constant search of you but it was like you had never existed, the Ravenclaw table lacked the certain presence he had grown used to having there and the halls were void of the sound of your voice. No one saw you and if they did he wouldn’t really be able to tell, he refused to ask around for you. But he did make an exception, finding the boy that appeared to be attached to you all alone at the library.

He was used to seeing you in the library, usually with the company of Regulus but taking in consideration it was still the winter break Regulus would be at home until the last day he could. Of course he would be.

Sirius shook his head and focused on the important. You were nowhere to be seen at the library, he had made sure to check at least a couple of times, sending Remus on his way to check on his behalf so it wouldn’t be obvious how out of place and lost Sirius looked. He had no luck. But still, Remus managed to gather the important fact that Félix, the boy that you took under your wing and that now was Remus’ shadow, was always there.

“He is brilliant.” Remus told Sirius one morning during breakfast, playing with the cup in his hand “For a first year, he knows as much as you do.” he smirked, lifting his gaze from his coffee momentarily before he settled back on the dark liquid.

Sirius glared at him, running his tongue over his teeth as he clenched his fist where he supported his head, looking away from his friend. He is your way of finding the kid so you can find Y/N and apologize for being an idiot. He thought, pursing his lips in annoyance Maybe Moony has a point.

“Focus.” Sirius hissed, snapping his fingers to bring Remus attention to himself “What did uh-” he hesitated, Remus' look of annoyance making Sirius narrow his eyes with a tight smile.

“Félix.”

“Just checking we were talking about the same person.” he winked, leaning forward “What did he tell you?”

Remus stared at him, eyes void for a split second before he let out a long sigh “Nothing.” he admitted “He knows where she is but it’s not like he is just going to mention the place.”

Sirius groaned, falling back in his seat “Where is he?” he asked, looking over the few students currently having breakfast “You’re too soft, we need to push him.”

Remus pushed Sirius back onto his seat, his hand staying on his shoulder to force him to stay put “We don’t need to do anything.” he stated, leaving no room for discussion “And maybe you should just let her be. Didn’t you promise her that?”

“That was before I upset her.” he mumbled as he stayed put in his place, picking up the food from Remus’ plate “I just want to apologize, then I’ll leave her all alone.”

Remus gave him a knowing look, making Sirius stutter with his words before he lifted his hands in surrender “Promise.”

Remus shook his head, slapping Sirius’ hand as he kept on stealing his food “Quit eating my breakfast.” he ordered, taking the plate in front of him and filling it exactly like his “There. Eat that.”

Sirius looked down, taking a piece of the toast in front of him and making a face as soon as it touched his lips. “Yours is better.” he said, pushing the plate in Remus' direction and taking the half eaten plate from him.

“It’s really a wonder why Y/N’s avoiding you.” Remus muttered, downing the last sip of his coffee before he got up from his seat.

“Where are you going?” Sirius asked, his eyebrows furrowed in question as he followed Remus with his eyes.

“Peter is helping James with something at the Quidditch pitch.” he told him, pointing behind him towards the door “I’m going to make sure both of them make it to dinner.”

Sirius nodded, waving a hand in his direction. Remus left without another word, leaving Sirius to wonder in his own thoughts. What was he going to do?

*******

Avoiding was a very strong word.

You weren’t avoiding Sirius. Or not going to the library to not see Remus. You were certainly not avoiding the Quidditch pitch, specifically that hidden spot where you sat during Regulus’ training sessions, that specific spot where you could perfectly watch him and not be interrupted by other students there. You definitely were not avoiding the kitchens and midnight baking where you had come across Peter more than one time.

No. You were making very calculated decisions of what to and not to do. Avoiding was a completely different thing. You were certain.

The door to the Ravenclaw common room opened with a soft sound, the pages in your book changing as you lifted your gaze. The Castle had been welcoming the students back from the winter break slowly, the tables in the Great Hall getting fuller by the day.

Félix walked inside, the same gleaming look on his face as he had every day since the moment he started to sit at the same table that Remus took in the library.

“Why isn’t he a Ravenclaw?” he asked you with genuine curiosity, flopping down on the couch next to you.

“Hm?” you asked, closing your book and pretending you didn’t know who he was talking about.

“Remus.” he groaned, elongating his name “He is more Ravenclaw than you and I combined.”

You frowned, looking down at him “Hey!” you said defensively “That is a lot of Ravenclawness for one person.”

Félix shrugged, rolling his shoulders back as he lifted his head towards you “He is really tall.”

You narrowed your eyes, letting your body completely sink in the couch. You were both staring at the wall, biting the inside of your cheek as you pointed a lazy finger at him “That’s a good point.”

“He is still looking for you” Félix said after a long pause “Sirius, I mean.”

You chuckled darkly “I assumed you meant him.”

“Should I keep letting out very vague descriptions of your whereabouts or just let them assume you vanished?”

You turned to look at him confused, a pout on your lip as you considered him “I didn’t know you were doing that.” you mumbled, letting out a heavy sigh “You should hint them that I died.” you suggested, waving your hands in front of your faces “A real tragedy, you can come up with the details.”

“I don’t get it.” he told you, turning his head to you “Why are you avoiding him?”

“Ah,” you said, holding one finger up, “Not avoiding.”

“Calculated decisions.” you both said in unison.

“That,” he mumbled “So? He snapped at you, but you should know better than mentioning his brother to him. It’s like mentioning a mouse in front of a cat,” you scrunched up your nose, turning to him as he gave you a knowing look “The cat is gonna hiss.”

“Did you just compare Sirius Black to a cat?”

He clicked his tongue, nodding proudly at himself “And Regulus Black to a mouse.”

You bit your lip, stifling a laugh as you pushed his head softly “You’re unbelievable.”

*******

Three days. It took Sirius three days to finally cross paths with you.

You were sitting by the fountain, outside on the Courtyard with a bunch of letters piled in your lap and a few small flowers in your hand. You looked normal, like you had always been there and it was only Sirius who had failed to see you.

He was growing ever more nervous as he walked up to you, the words repeating inside his head, as he had practiced time and time again. I’m sorry for being an idiot. I know I overreacted, I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did but… No, there were no buts in his speech, just the apology. I’m sorry my attitude changed at the mention of my brother, at the mention of Regulus, should he say brother or Regulus? Same thing, right? I’m sorry I reacted the way I did at the mention of Regulus, at the mention of Regulus from you but how could I not? How could I not react in that way when all I want is for your eyes to light up at the mention of my name the way they light up at the mention of his, when all I want is for you to keep a picture of us tucked in the pages of your books to keep track of what you’ve read, when all I want is for you to hold onto my arm they way you do with his every time you walk together. How could I not react the way I did when I selfishly wish I could steal all the smiles you have ever shown him? That you could draw the smiles on my face the way you draw his?

Maybe he should stick with a plain apology.

You must have sensed his presence, not even five steps away from you you lazily lifted your head in his direction, not missing the way he was playing with his fingers. He dropped his hands and ran one through his hair before a small smile settled on his lips. “Hi.” he breathed out, lowering his gaze as he finally reached your side.

You nodded in his direction, moving your arms over all the letters in your lap “Hi.” you said back, leaning down so your elbows were resting on your knees.

Neither of you said anything, staring at one another for longer than it was considered comfortable.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked down at the flowers you were holding and noticing you had crushed them. The white of your knuckles making you open your hand immediately as the small pieces that used to make the flower fell to the water. You cursed under your breath, dusting your hand against your leg before you returned your gaze to Sirius, still standing there. Not avoiding, right? you told yourself. “Would you like to sit?” you asked as you moved your bag aside, making space for him.

He hesitantly took the space you made for him, thanking you in a whisper as he continued to look at you. His eyes immediately fell to the water behind them in the fountain, the flowers you held floating on the surface as they moved with the lightest wind that flowed around you. Sirius tilted his head to the side, confusion filling him entirely as you went back to reading whatever was on your lap. Letters, he assumed.

You didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest, in fact, you looked more at peace that he had ever seen you.

You blindly reached a hand to your bag, pulling a clear bag from inside and opening it without breaking your focus from the parchment in your other hand, joy lighting up your face. You popped a piece of what he could tell by the smell were cookies and managed a small laugh before you looked up to him, as if the thought of him being sitting right beside you had only registered in your mind.

“Would you like some?” you asked him, placing the bag between the two of you for him to grab some “I made them this morning.”

“Why are you being nice?” he asked suddenly, making whatever words you were about to say get stuck on your tongue.

You didn’t act surprised by his question, shaking your head with a nervous smile “Should I not be nice?” you asked, but he could tell you knew exactly what he meant.

“Don’t do that.” he asked tiredly, running a hand down his face “Don’t start pretending again.”

Sirius wanted you to show some anger, for you to cut his words sharply just like he had done, he wanted you to ignore him. Something. Anything. He felt even more the twist in his stomach now that you were just ignoring the entire thing.

“You always say I’m pretending.” you laughed, “Honestly, I’m not.” you lied. Of course you lied, but looking back maybe you had overreacted at his change of attitude. Now, you were just curious.

“Then stop ignoring the fact that I was rude to you.”

“You say that as if I’ve only been an angel to you.”

Sirius was taken aback by your words. Eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as he blankly stared at you. In his eyes you had been a perfect angel. Then again, James thought Lily was nothing but perfect to him and everyone else could see that, even if Lily did his best friend no harm, she wasn’t exactly nice.

“I asked something that was in no way of my concern and you had every right to react the way you did.” you said, leaving him speechless as you continued “I have no reason to not be nice to you. You are nothing but kind to me and I was just curious,” you said, the words leaving your mouth before you registered you were rambling “Regulus is my best friend but he rarely talks of you, he is really private. Not that I blame him, I’m the same. But all this time I thought you were this mean older brother that tormented him and me, being his friend, I took the blind decision of not liking you. And then you went and started talking to me, Merlin only knows why, and you’re nice and I’m confused.” you finished, breathing out before you locked eyes with him, his slightly wide eyes looking back at you “...and curious.” you added hesitantly, realizing all that you said. Your hand covered your mouth, letting out a groan as you threw your head back.

Only the sound of a low chuckle brought you back from the slightly embarrassed feeling, making you lower your head with an almost pained look on your face.

“You’re adorable.” he said, his usual grin returning to his face.

Your blank stare at his words turned into one of fake annoyance as you faced your side “Right,” you huffed “You’ve told me that before.”

And I’ll keep reminding you. He thought, but restrained himself from actually saying it as he had more pressing matters in his mind.

“You said you were… Curious?” he asked, recalling your words with his own curiosity. “About what?”

You bit your lip lightly, lowering your eyes and folding the parchment on your lap, putting aside “You…” you admitted in a whisper “I mean, that night when we first met left me with thousands of questions but no answers.” you shared, taking a quick glance in his direction as you considered him. He really had been nothing but nice to you, annoying and a little insistent but still nice; maybe talking to him would do more good than harm.

“I asked Regulus about you.” you said, capturing his attention instantly “He reacted the same way you did, actually.” a breathy laugh escaped your lips as you remembered, shaking your head “He didn’t say much, just that you weren’t close.”

Sirius let out a bitter chuckle, moving to sit more comfortably “We used to be.” he said “Before I left, that is.”

“Left?”

He nodded, seeing your face remain the same. So Regulus really keeps to himself, even with you. “I left home.” he explained with the tilt of his head “Let’s just say that my mother and I didn’t agree with each other.”

Sirius almost wanted to laugh, saying he and Walburga Black didn’t agree with each other was putting it lightly. It felt like giving you the ocean and saying it only contained water, but how much water did the ocean hold inside it? What else hid in the depths that no one dared to explore?

“Is that why you said you and Regulus had different ideals?” you asked him, seeing his thoughts die inside his eyes as he came back to the present, back to you.

“He chose his side.” Sirius said with a nod “Still wrapped around my dear mother’s finger.”

You felt the knot in the stomach start to form, the words leaving Sirius’ mouth too vague and yet precise to be confused with anything else. You felt a thousand emotions cross your face, your mouth trying to form words but being too slow to keep up with the train of thought currently running inside your head. Ideals was a rare word to use in day to day conversations, but one that came up more considering the times and the current situation in the Wizarding World. There was a Dark wizard rising and everyone knew what his ideals were, his ideals were known and held highly among the families that stood next to him, supported him. Old families that thought themselves above the rest of the witches and wizards because of the blood flowing through their veins. A blood redder than the ones of Muggles. Purebloods. Purebloods just like the Noble House of Black.

You swallowed the fear rising inside you, forcing a smile to your face as you tried to come up with words but none came.

“I was surprised when you showed me how close you two are.” he continued, only making your stomach drop “Maybe he’s just scared.” he said, mostly to himself but you could hear him perfectly “He is the perfect son, you know?” The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, sadness laced in between his words “Made it to Slytherin, obbeys Mother, respects Father.” he paused, lowering his head “Hates his traitor brother.” he murmured.

Your eyes snapped at him, frozen in your spot as you stared at him. Your hand moved out of its own will, finding his clutching to the edge of the fountain. Gently, you placed your hand over his, the cold of your hand a shock with the warmth of his skin.

He forced his head up, his eyes following the feeling of your skin, turning his hand over to wrap his fingers around your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a slow motion.

“He isn’t like that.” you murmured, watching as he held your hand closer to him.

Whether you meant Regulus’ opinions on him or blood status, he didn’t care. Somehow, as selfish as he felt in that moment, he just cared that you had let him in, that you had reached for his hand. He wondered if you would have done the same if you weren’t alone, if Regulus wasn’t away; he wondered what would happen when everything went back to normal.

He let go of your hand, turning to his side to avoid the look in your face. He found he didn’t want to know if it was disappointment or relief what took over your features.

“Sirius.” you called, voice soft and gentle. “He isn’t like that.” you repeated.

He gave you a soft nod. Even if he didn’t believe it, he surprised himself by actually wanting to. For your sake, for himself.

“I really hope you’re right.”

TAGS

Skittles

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Winter in the Shade

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Marauders

@destourtereaux

#winter in the shade #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #marauders era fanfiction #regulus black

[msmkcreates]

AuraFell InfoDump

Hello! As some of you may already know, I have created my own AU called AuraFell! It doesn't have any Tale/Swap/Swapfell/etc counterparts yet, so this is completely new!

I'm going to dump everything I have to start with this AU below the cut. If you want to wrote or draw this AU please ask, it's still in New AU stages so I want it to be done right! But I'm very easygoing and I would love for more content to me made so don't be afraid (:

More info below the cut, it's a mess of about 7k words so bear with me!

AuraFell:

Let's start with the magic system. Most monsters have the same type of magic as regular AUs, nothing special. If they have an aura, it's weak or hard to use.

Boss Monsters, though, have Auras that are strong and super effective.

Boss monsters in this AU (that ive developed) are:

-Papyrus (Mockingbird)

-Sans (Terror)

-Asgore (Dad)

-Toriel (Auntie)

-Undyne (Shrill)

-Alphys (Professor)

-Mettaton (Signal)

-Grillby (Ozone)

-Frisk (Kiddo)

And the deceased ones with powers thus far:

-Gaster (Doctor...deceased)

-Asriel (Giver...deceased...?)

-Chara (Pal....deceased)

Nicknames! So nicknames are actually given to Boss monsters by the ones their aura effects. They all for some reason call them that name.

Aura powers fall under two categories, with subcategories. If your aura is in the same category, you're resistant to the other's power. If you have the same category AND subcategory, you're immune.

Ambient Auras: These are Auras that are area of effect, sort of. They are focused in one way or another but generally present at all times.

-Visual: This means the Ambient Aura is focused with a visual effect (flashing colors, a friendly smile, the written word)

-Audial: This means the Ambient Aura is focused with sound (humming, singing, spoken word)

Given Aura: This aura type must be administered physically somehow. It is not ever-present but can be "stowed" or "kept". The effect is imbued to an object or physically given somehow.

-Present: This means the Given Effect must be given through an item (a baked good laced with the effect, a gift, etc)

-Physical: This means the given effect must be administered through physical contact (a bite, a kiss, skin to skin contact)

Let's start with the skeleton Brothers' powers

Papyrus, AKA Mockingbird

-His Aura is called Lullaby. He makes people fall asleep. He usually does this by humming or singing. It can effect one person immediately or multiple with a delay. 

-His favorite lullaby to hum is "Hush little baby" (you know. The one where Mama is gonna buy you a Mockingbird...) and perhaps that's why everyone calls him Mockingbird

-He used to think he had no powers because he didn't know how to focus it, and his Category/Subcategory is the same as Sans AND Undyne (whom he spent the most time with) so neither were ever affected

- Category/Sub is Ambient (Audial)

Sans (Terror)

-His aura is called Modify Memory, but nobody knows that. He can speak to a sleeping person and influence their dreams, or speak a story to an woken person and they will legitimately remember that it happened that way. Again, it's most effective when focused on one person, and the details fuzz or change if he tries to stretch it to more people

-He pretends to be affected by Mock's lullaby. He's incredibly fast, agile, and strong, and he pretends he's only a good fighter when he's unconscious. This way nobody will risk a surprise knockout and they'll cooperate with him when Mock threatens to put him to sleep. He modifies people's memories so they will spread by word of mouth that the unconscious fighting is his power, not modify memory

-Category/Sub: Ambient (Audial)

Speed run through the others:

-Toriel (Auntie) makes pies or any baked good that are more addictive than any drug. Category/sub: Given (Present)

-Asgore (Dad) has Big Dad Energy and everyone wants to impress him, to an extreme. He's so strong he affects most of the Underground without knowing it, and to his horror most of the Underground seems to think that murdering others and getting stronger is the way to impress him. He focuses with spoken word but it's mostly unnecessary at this point. Ambient (Audial)

-Grillby (Ozone). Hypnosis. Pretty flame colors. Leaves his victims open to suggestion. Ambient (Visual)

-Muffet (? Nickname tbd) makes a paralyzing poison. She has figured out how to put it in her pastries but it's best delivered by bite. Given (Physical)

-Undyne (Shrill) has the command power. People follow a command from her. Longer instructions if focused on one, one simple instruction if aimed at multiples. Ambient (Audial)

-Alphys (Professor). People take whatever she says as fact as long as it's written in her handwriting. Ambient (Visual)

-Mettaton (Signal). His TV programs are brainwashing propaganda. He can convince people to buy or sell anything if they are watching him through a screen. Ambient (Visual)

-Frisk (Kiddo) radiates friendship with a smile. Ambient (visual)

-Gaster (Doctor) used to be able to say anything and people would believe him. Ambient (Audial)

-Chara (Pal) was able to convince anyone to be friendly to them no matter what they'd done. Ambient (Audial)

-Asriel (Giver) could give you a rock and you'd well up with grateful feelings. Given (Present)

So 

yeah that's the basics, that's the big peeps in that world. Basically it isn't really Asgore's fault the place is so fucked up he's just very old and powerful and the violence is mostly people trying to impress him (poorly).

Gaster is Terror and Mock's Dad but he died when they were young, 8 and barely 2. He died trying to save Asriel and Chara when he accidentally dropped a barrier-breaking theory that Asriel then took as fact because of Gaster's aura.

Toriel moved almost immediately after the children's deaths, and Asgore did his best to raise Terror and Mock until Terror was old enough to take Mock to live in their house in Snowdin (about 14 and 8 years old)

Snowdin is a really bad place now though bc Toriel (Auntie) has been giving away her pies at the ruins gates, and people are killing and hurting each other for enough G or whatever they think she wants to get the next fix. She's kinda lost it at this point, she keeps feeding them out of some twisted need to be needed

Terror was old enough and smart enough to know "yeah, let's not eat that". They're immune to Asgore's power bc they are the same types, but they still want to impress him the normal kid-wants-to-impress-dad amount so they never tell him when they need more support out of some sense of pride. 

Mock was a bit of a runt well into teenage years. His magic was very slow to grow. He got picked on a lot, kids stole his lunch money and roughed him up and such. He would hum his favorite lullabies to himself to calm his anxiety, and wouldn't you know it, but one day it put everyone to sleep!

So sometimes he doesn't even realize he's humming, he does it to calm his nerves, he a nervous bean, but he also  knows from the one time someone injured his socket that earplugs are good enough to slow his effects

He also learns pretty quickly that junkies don't sleep for long and they are way stronger than he anticipated so, he racks up some of his LV for stuff like that.

He also likes tea because his powers depend on him being able to hum/sing

#aurafell #undertale au #my au #my work #mktalks #mkwrites

[omlwhatamidoinghere]

Mr. Moreno

Chapter 3: Off-Campus Housing

Summary: Marcus decides it's time for some new scenery during your tutoring session

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, teacher x f!student, daddy kink/age kink (all parties are above the age of 18)

Word Count: 3,347!

Check out my masterlist!

_________________

Life has been great!

You're getting good grades, your dad just got a promotion he's been waiting 4 years for, your psychology research was accepted to be part of the department's upcoming journal, and- most importantly- you're sleeping with your professor. Well...maybe "sleeping with" isn't the correct terminology.

The multiple rendez-vous with Mr. Moreno have consisted of him going down on you, you going down on him, your hands down each other's pants and pretty much everything except the main event. That's the one thing he won't do. Yes, you two have definitely had some fun times but he won't go past eating you out and you sucking his cock. Ever since his wife passed, he hasn't had the urge to be with another person in that way. The day he met you, things started to change.

=======

Marcus' daughter, Missy, even noticed he was acting weird that day and confronted him about it. Taking him by the hand to the living room, she sat him down on the couch, "Dad, who is she?" Immediately turning red, "W-what? Who- what are you...I don't...I'm...she's not- she's...why are you-"

"Dad" The pose she strikes radiates the sass that she definitely got from him.

A sigh passes through his lips, "She's...she's just someone I met at work-"

"Someone you LIKE!" Missy cuts him off. She has never seen her dad act this way. She's only heard the stories of how he acted around her mom before they started dating, he must really like this girl.

======

It's not that Marcus hasn't thought about having sex with you- he has and does often- the silver ring that remains on his finger, encompassing the relationship he once had, stirs up this feeling of guilt if he were to have sex with another woman. Even though he knows his late wife wants him to move on and be happy, Marcus still doesn't feel right doing so.

Thank the stars it's the end of the week! Between finishing your project for Mr. Moreno's class and conducting more research for the psychology department, you've been stressed out of your mind. Not only was this week busy, but you also have a test in one of your classes next week. At least today the university decided to give everyone a rest day and treat them to a three-day weekend, even though you're spending it by coming to campus to have Mr. Moreno look over your project. A pleased sigh leaves your lips as you enter the classroom, greeted by a grin from the leader of the Heroics, who is currently talking to one of his fellow teammates, Miracle Guy. He notices his loss of Marcus' attention, immediately realizing who you are, "Well hello there! I've heard so much about you!" If you weren't in the classroom right now, Marcus probably would have knocked him right in the chest. Instead, he turns his head slowly back towards Miracle Guy, his face plastered with a look that can only be taken as 'you need to shut up'.

Setting your bag down as your gaze meets the Heroic's, you're taken back by his last statement, "You...you have?"

"Yeah! Mr. Moreno talks about you all the time! He's always saying how his favorite student is extremely smart and well-rounded!"

Your heart pounds in your ears, hoping Miracle Guy sees past the shade of red currently radiating from your face. You glance over at Marcus and feel heat grow between your legs. If he could kill with a look, Miracle Guy would be dead on the floor right now. The intensity of his stare is enough to make you drop to your knees right there. Your gaze lingers a little too long when Marcus looks over to you and notices your lip between your teeth, his glare changes tones at the sight. The look that fills his wonderfully dark eyes, the same lust-filled look from when he peers up at you from between your legs, causes a flutter deep inside.

"Just fuck each other already!"

Both of you snap from your trance over to Miracle Guy, "What? It's so obvious you both want it! I figured with how much you talk about her, Marcus, that you were already fucking her but I-"

Marcus cuts him off, grabbing his arm and dragging him into his office as you follow with your bag. Shutting the door, Marcus pushes him down into a chair, "We HAVE done stuff." The look on Miracle Guy's face slips to a state of confusion, "But...wait....I thought you said....you told me you haven't..." a sigh passes through Marcus' lips, "We haven't had sex. But we've done other things." A blush dusts your cheeks, Miracle Guy slowly picking up on what Marcus means, "Oooohhhhhhhh....nice! See? Still know how to treat a woman even as an old man-"

"I'm not that old."

"And I really don't care about the age difference." You chime in. Both of them turn to you, "Plus, he's the only man I know that doesn't act like a twelve-year-old," you start to mumble, "Not to mention he's really sexy..."

"What was that?" Marcus leans towards you in hopes of you repeating what you just said. Miracle Guy starts to push, "Yeah I heard you say something but I couldn't tell what it was-"

"I said he's really sexy. Just because he's older doesn't mean he isn't sexy."

Marcus' face matches the embarrassed shade of your own, "You...you think I'm sexy?" Your eyes turn to meet his, "Well yeah! Have you seen yourself?" Miracle Guy remains with his jaw on the floor as the two men take in what you said. A few minutes pass before anyone says anything again, "I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice to finally meet you!" Miracle Guy reaches out to shake your hand. Reaching out to shake his, "A pleasure to meet you as well! Hopefully next time we run into each other it won't be as awkward. Thanks for not telling anyone." With a nod, he steps out of the office, leaving you and Marcus. His eyes lock on yours as he closes the distance between your bodies. Warm, strong hands gently caress your arms, his breath is hot against your ear, "So...you think I'm sexy?" His voice, deep and husky as he moves down to your neck. His teeth graze your skin, a gasp leaves your lips, "Marcus..." His name is a soft whisper filled with desperation. You move your hand up to his hair, your fingers running through each strand causing Marcus to release a low growl against your neck as he continues leaving marks. "Marcus, wait...I need you to....I came in to...-" his lips still on your neck, "Tell me baby." "Why is it so difficult to say something as easy as I came in to see if you could look at my paper?" This man has so much power over you and all he's done so far today is kiss your neck and whisper in your ear. Granted, you can't help but think of all the things he's done to you previously. Stars, you can't help but imagine how amazing he must be in bed...so strong...taking control of you...- see this? This is why he has so much power over you; you can't stop thinking of him. "Baby?" His glasses bump into your jaw as he pulls back to look at you, "What is it?"

"I came in to see if you...um...if you could look over my project?"

His look of realization as he fixes his glasses makes you giggle, "I completely forgot about that...I saw your email and everything and I was going to write you back but then Miracle Guy called and said he was coming in to visit and I got distracted but yes I would love to look over your project." Grabbing your paper out of your bag, still flustered from everything that just happened prior to this moment. Handing it to Marcus, you both take a seat at his desk. He reads over it, paying attention to every detail, biting his lip in concentration. "What the hell? Can you think about anything other than him bending you over his desk and- who are you kidding, of course you can't." He notices your gaze drifting off as he peeks up at you from your paper, "Sweetheart..." You don't hear him talking to you as your mind continues to wander, "...his hands on you...his lips on your body...with how he big he feels in your mouth imagine how he feels in your-" he tries to get your attention again, "Hello? Are you alright?" Still not hearing him, "...and his beard against your skin, especially on your neck and between your thighs..." You still don't notice him as he walks around his desk and leans back against it right in front of you, "Sweetheart, are you alright?" Finally, you come back to your senses. Feeling extremely embarrassed, your cheeks flush red, giving away exactly what was going on in your thoughts. A smirk decorates Marcus' face while he rolls up his sleeves, drawing your attention to his now exposed forearms. "What was going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?" Even though you two have done a lot together, you still avert your gaze from his, still too shy to admit the dirty thoughts you have of him...not to mention how often you think those thoughts. He gently grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. Pulling you closer, Marcus' lips barely graze against yours, his breath hot on your skin. His voice drops into a low gravely tone, "Tell Daddy what you were thinking about, all those dirty thoughts that I know run through your mind...be a good girl and tell me..." Your breath leaves your body in a soft moan. Trying to collect yourself, "I was...I-I was thinking of....umm...you...your...uh..I..."

"If you tell me, I just may do it..."

A gasp powers you to kind of form a sentence, "I w-was thinking about you...and what you do to me...and the all the things you could do to me...being underneath you...nearly breaking whatever you're pounding me into..." Marcus lets out a low moan as he pulls you in and kisses you, his tongue already finding its way past your lips. The sounds you make in response cause him to press against his pants. His hands find their way into your hair and on your lower back, pulling you closer. He continues to moan as you kiss, "Damn he's so hot when he moans. Oh my STARS I want to really hear him moan" He pulls back, his hands still on you, "Baby, we should go somewhere..." slightly confused on his comment, "What? Where would we..what do you mean?" His eyes grow dark with lust again, "Some place where we won't get caught when I make you scream my name so much you forget your own..." A whimper escapes your lips faster than you can process Marcus' words. "I'll take that as a yes. Where should we go sweetheart?" You pause a moment to consider, "Well, my apartment is two minutes away. I can send you my address and you can meet me over there." Giving you another kiss before pulling back again, "Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in a few." As you fix yourself up and start to walk away, Marcus quickly reaches out, giving you a quick smack, winking at you with a cheeky grin when you turn to look back at him.

You make it to your car and back to your apartment within a few minutes. Racing inside, you see that none of your roommates are home, remembering they left for the weekend. Quickly climbing the stairs up to your room, you change your bra and underwear to the set you just bought a few days ago, put some dirty clothes in the laundry basket and make sure everything is cleaned up, not forgetting to light a nice candle to set the mood a little more. A few minutes pass and you hear a car door as a text pops up on your screen

"Come open the door, baby ;)"

Trying not to fall down the stairs as you eagerly skip steps, you finally reach the door. Doing one last appearance check, you open the door. On the other side, Marcus leans with one arm against the door frame, closing the gap between your bodies as soon as the door closes behind him. His lips almost on yours, "Where's your room?" Grabbing onto his tie, you pull him in for a kiss, "Up the stairs, the door next to the bath-" before you could finish your sentence, Marcus had you up and over his shoulder, walking up the stairs. Reaching behind him, he waves his hand and locks the door. Once he reaches your room, he lays you down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing on top of you, that familiar look floods his deep eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, sweetheart." Giving him a smirk, "You have no idea how many times I've gotten myself off to the thought of you." His lips meet yours in a heated clash. Your arms find their way around his neck as his hands find the button to your jeans. Marcus pulls back to slip off your shirt before kissing down your body; on your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, down your chest, past your stomach. Carefully sliding your jeans off, he continues to kiss your body as it becomes exposed. Soft whimpers from you and groans from Marcus fill the room, his lips never leaving your skin. His teeth grab onto your thigh, forcing a loud moan to escape from your throat. Marcus peers up at you with that infamous look of his, "Ooo, baby likes that, doesn't she?" He bites down on you again, getting the same reaction as before, "You sound so pretty. So good for me." His words only turn you on more. "P-please....please....I..I-I need..." He moves back up to your face, "What is it sweetheart?" You moan breathily in his ear, "I need you. Please, Mr. Moreno..." The groan that comes from his lips makes you even hotter for him, your wetness growing rapidly. Even in class, when you call him "Mr. Moreno", your innocent voice masking your filthy intent, his zipper threatens to break from how hard his cock gets. Burying his face in your neck, Marcus' mustache scratching against your delicate skin, "Say it again," his voice dropping to a growl, "say my name again." His hips begin to create friction between your legs while he awaits your response. The things this man does to you, you feel as if you could get off just from him grinding into you as his voice resonates through your soul. Biting the bottom of your ear, he forces sounds to escape your lips but no words can form, "Come on, baby. Be a good girl for me"

"Mr. Moreno, pleeeaaassee"

His lips travel back down your body as he begins to pull you apart, thread by thread. Settling back between your thighs, his hot breath sends a shiver through you. His tongue licks through your folds, already drenched and melting in his touch. "Already so wet for me, baby" he slips two fingers inside you, "How often have you gotten yourself off to the thought of me, baby?" A moan brings an answer to your lips, "All the time...I think about you all the time....think about you touching me...your strong arms around my waist...your hands on me...you-your fingers...doing..."

"Doing this?"

A curve in his fingers guides you closer to the edge. His name escapes your mouth in a chant, the only word your mind can conjure. The sounds you sing only make his aching stronger and stronger until he snaps, "Baby, I need to be inside of you." Your head moves to meet his eyes as he carefully takes his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth. A groan rumbles through his chest as he cleans them off, keeoing eye contact the entire time. Biting your lip, you hold back a moan as you watch Marcus undress before you, taking in the jaw-dropping sight of his naked body. You sit up and crawl to meet him at the foot of the bed, your hands discovering his skin, your lips are soft against his tanned and toned chest. His hands gently push against your shoulders, "As nice as that feels, there's something tighter I wanna feel around me. Be a good girl and lay back for Daddy." The growl sounding like a command, you do as he tells you. Climbing on top of you, his hands land on either side of your head, dragging your focus up his flexed muscles and to his lustful eyes. You can see the hesitation behind his prowling gaze. Arms and legs wrapping around him, "It's alright, Marcus. I want you inside of me." Quickly wrapping himself with you still hanging on him, he lines his cock up with your dripping entrance, carefully pushing into you. Moans rip through your apartment as he takes it slow, easing you onto his size. "I'm gonna start moving, alright baby?" You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, "Okay. I'm ready."

Easing himself out of you so it's only the tip of his cock left inside, he pushes in slightly harder than before, still adjusting to you, "Ugh....your so tight baby...so tight for Daddy...so wet..." His lips entertain the delicate skin of your neck,your moans and whimpers echoing in his ears, flipping a switch that send his hips into a faster pace. The skin about his cock passes over your clit with every thrust, taking you higher and higher. Your eyes meet as he moves his head back, your lips grazing as you pant against each other. Marcus leans into you depper than before, his mouth meeting yours just in time to swallow the yelp that soars from you. His tongue dancing on your lips, begging for entrance. Parting them slightly, he groans at the feel of you. His kisses travel to your jaw before his lips guide his breath against your ear, "Good girl. Moan for me, baby. Your sound make me want to fuck you until you can only think of me...what I do to you...how much I stretch you..." His husky voice rattles you to the core, clenching tight around his cock. "I'm gonna...please let me come, sir." Marcus pulls back again to look into your eyes, "Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy. You're such a good girl for me." Your climax slams into you at his words just as he chases his release.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls you to his chest, "That...that was...I haven't done that in forever. Was it okay?" You turn your head up to look at him, "Okay? Marcus that was the best sex I've ever had! You really know how to treat a woman." You both chuckle, "Thank you, honey. That means a lot. But..um...what you said earlier about me to Miracle Guy..."

"Y-yes?"

"Is it true?"

"Marcus, I wouldn't lie about that. You're really fucking sexy."

"Honey you're too-"

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

Marcus' phone begins to ring. Reaching over carefully as not to disturb your comfortable position, he answers it. Still trying to catch his breath, "Hello?"

"Hey pal, it's Miracle Guy. Make sure you turn off your talk to text next time you and hot stuff get together"

Taglist: @no-droids @autumnleaves1991-blog @absurdthirst @velvetmel0n @wyn-n-tonic @leaderoftheheroics @finerthisboutique

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x f!reader #pedro pascal simp #pedro pascal #we can be heroes #marcus moreno fic #professor x student #mr. moreno series #marcus moreno smut

[hiddendreamer67]

girl u KNOW im a predictable bitch and need to know everything about Caden and Nameless-Giant-Whom-I-Already-Adore (plus uuuuhhhh caring prompt "let me take a look..." if that gets anything going for ya)

Bro you know I was so hype to get this ask! It seems a lot of people to read more about my bois, who are now officially Caden and Markus. :D

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 tbd

Summary: After being sacrificed by his people to the beasts of the village, Caden finds himself rescued by a giant and taken back to Markus’ campsite.

Word count: 1,604

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“Let’s have a look…” The giant murmured, and once again Caden found himself in front of his scrutinizing gaze. Caden squirmed, not liking the way the massive bonfire made the shadows dance across his captor’s face. He liked it even less when he caught the glint of a knife twice his size in the corner of his eye. “Oi! Sit still, would ‘ya?”

Caden whimpered, trying to do as instructed lest he be punished for disobedience. After all, the fingers curled around him could at any moment squeeze together and crush his ribs. That imagery was terrifying and did nothing to ease Caden’s internal panic.

“Good lords, your heart’s beating faster than a sprite.” The giant sighed, his thumb brushing atop Caden’s chest, taking in the younger boy’s pulse. “Settle down. I’m not going to harm you, alright?”

“Mhmm.” Caden gave a stiff nod, his eyes never leaving the blade clutched in the giant’s other hand, hovering nearby and pointed in Caden’s direction. “What uh… what’s that for, then?”

“Well, I imagine it’s not pleasant being all tied up.” The giant brought the knife closer, his gaze intense in his focus. “Now don’t move and I won’t nick ya.”

“Easy for you to say.” Caden murmured, stiffening as he imagined all the ways the tiniest slip of the giant’s wrist could lose Caden an entire arm; a blade that size was quite the formidable weapon. Nevertheless, Caden did as instructed, breathing as steadily as he could when he felt the steel tool come between his arms and glide along, cutting the thick ropes with ease.

“Told ya.” The giant gave a cocky grin, repositioning to aim for Caden’s legs. This knife cut through the ropes as if they were nothing.

Caden cleared his throat, forcing himself to breathe as he brushed the scraps of rope together. The open palm Caden was cupped in shifted as the giant repositioned to put the knife away.

Of course, Caden wasn’t sure if he was any safer now that he was free of his bonds. After all, Caden was still in the hands of a gigantic stranger, alone in the dangerous woods with no way to defend himself if things turned ugly. What did this giant want with him, anyhow? He seemed… human, or human enough, but given Caden’s track record that didn’t mean he’d be granted any mercy.

The giant hummed, his attention fully on Caden once more, tilting the human back and forth before his eyes. Caden stumbled, grasping one of the nearby knuckles to keep himself balanced. After all, he was still mindful of the fact he was several dozen feet off the ground, even as the giant sat upon the ground. Caden rubbed his arm, unnerved by the sensation of Markus’ fingers occasionally brushing against his side, as if Markus himself wasn’t even fully aware he was doing it.

“You got a name, kid?” The giant asked, first to break the silence.

Caden blinked, not expecting the question. “Um, Caden. My,- my name’s Caden.”

The giant nodded. “I’m Markus.” With introductions out of the way, Markus lowered his palm to the ground, causing Caden to shoot him a confused glance.

“Are you… letting me go?” Caden questioned.

“Letting you go?” Markus raised a disapproving eyebrow, glancing between Caden and the darkened forest surrounding. “Kid, if you want to be torn to shreds, that’s between you and the banshees. The woods aren’t exactly friendly at the best of times, least of all when the sun goes down.”

“O-oh.” Caden flinched, looking to the trees with fright as if the shadows themselves would prove hostile. A loud sigh was heard above him, and Caden felt himself nudged in the back by Markus’ finger.

“I’m just setting ya down, need my hands free.” Markus instructed, watching the human hurriedly depart onto the ground with an amused smirk.

Caden shifted his weight, watching Markus take off his gigantic backpack and set it on the forest floor with a thud, the trembles in the ground making Caden stumble slightly.

“So… what are you doing out here? Do you live here?” Caden glanced around, taking in more of their surroundings. There was the roaring fire in the middle of the clearing (hard to miss, really), and the bag Markus was currently rustling through. And… that was it.

Markus shrugged. “‘For the time being.”

Caden frowned. What a depressing response, after all this clearing wasn’t exactly a home. But then Caden came to the horrible conclusion that even with Markus’ meager possessions and patch of dirt on the ground, Markus was still doing better than himself.

Caden had nothing. He owned nothing save for the clothes on his back, no tools to help him survive out in the wilderness. After all, Caden was never meant to survive. As far as his home was concerned, Caden was already dead. He wouldn’t be welcomed back. In fact, if he tried to return Caden didn’t doubt they would throw him to the beasts a second time, and the next creature to find him was likely to be more bloodthirsty.

It hurt, knowing everyone who had ever known Caden viewed him as a traitor and a liar. Caden had cried out for their sympathy and gotten nothing but blank stares. Who does that? What use were rules that could be exploited so readily? Caden shuddered, thinking of any individuals who were sacrificed before his time. Were they too innocent? How much unnecessary bloodshed was on the elder’s hands?

“Hungry?”

Caden blinked, broken out of his musings by the rumbling tones of Markus’ voice. “Pardon?”

Markus held a scrap of bread between his fingers, to the giant a miniscule portion but to Caden a loaf the size of his head. It was ripped off of a larger loaf still held in Markus’ other hand, clearly what he had been searching for in the bag. Markus offered the scrap in Caden’s direction.

The human paused, carefully considering the offer. He should probably eat, but with the events of the day still weighing heavily on his mind, Caden found himself without much of an appetite.

“Take it.” Markus advised. “It’ll help.” Caden gave him a confused glance, to which Markus only shrugged. “When your burden is heavy, I find it’s best to focus on surviving. Then the rest will follow.”

Caden blinked, surprised at the wisdom in Markus’ words. “Are you a mind reader?” He asked, stepping forward to carefully grasp the bread.

Markus chuckled, releasing the bread into Caden’s grasp. “You’re not exactly subtle with your brooding.” Markus teased, taking a bite of his own loaf almost as large as Caden himself (not a pleasant comparison). “Besides, it’s not hard to guess what you’re thinking with the day you’ve had. I’ve been there.”

Caden bristled, a bit peeved that Markus would pretend to understand his plight. “You’ve been kicked out of the only home you’ve ever known and sacrificed to beasts?”

Surprisingly, Markus gave a nod. “Something like that.”

Caden blinked, having not expected that response. He stammered for a moment, searching for the right words to reply, before settling on none and filling his mouth hesitantly with bread. It was a bit stale, and perhaps flavorless, but with nothing better to do, Caden diligently nibbled on his own loaf. At the same time, Caden tried to tune out the sounds of munching far above his head that did nothing to help Caden’s lack of an appetite.

“I’ve only got one blanket.” Markus spoke up again, drawing Caden’s attention upward to make eye contact. “But you could probably sleep in the bag tonight. Didn’t exactly think to bring tiny accommodations with me wherever I travel.”

“Oh, uh…” Caden glanced at the bag, having not even thought of something as trivial as sleeping arrangements. It hardly felt relevant in the grand scheme of Caden’s current miseries. “I’m not really tired.” He admitted, for despite the exhausting events of the day, Caden was still on edge with the fear of what might happen to him in the night outside the safety of familiar walls. There were the beasts prowling the forest, and Markus himself could still be a very real threat if Caden’s luck turned.

Markus squinted, considering Caden’s response for a moment. “You’re not gonna run off and get yourself killed in the night, are ya?”

Caden took the time to truly consider the question. Of course he didn’t want to get himself killed, but given the opportunity, would Caden run from Markus?

“No.” Caden shook his head with confidence. “Not tonight.”

Markus snorted. “Alright, the offer still stands. Stay near the fire at least, it keeps the rabble at bay.” Having given his last words of advice, Markus pulled the blanket out of his bag, setting the bag closer to the fire for easy access. It was a small detail that Caden appreciated, even if he still didn’t plan to take advantage of it. Markus himself curled slightly around the fire at a distance, almost as a barrier between Caden and the outside world.

Or a way to keep me in, Caden reminded himself. It was easy to forget that Markus was virtually a stranger. Caden knew nothing about this giant or his motives, only that Markus had spared him when it could’ve been so easy to abandon him entirely or kill Caden himself. What did Markus have to gain helping Caden? And what would Markus expect of Caden come morning?

“Goodnight, Caden.” Markus murmured, his eyes closed as he settled in.

Caden sat by the fire, giving his savior a contemplative glance. “...goodnight, Markus.”

#g/t #giant/tiny #sacrifice to the giant #caden #markus #i am posting at the worst time but it's fiiiiiiine #knife

[tinyboxxtink]

“The Man Of Your Dreams”

Y’all. Y’ALL. 

I was gonna make this a series but then I was like “Aw nah I can wrap it up neatly in one go”.

And that “one go” took 3 and 1/2 hours and 10 pages!!!!!!!! (on GoogleDocs anyway...) 

I went with my “keep dreaming about a man and then you go off to find him” idea.

The dating app one might be for a longer series, idk yet.

But this, this is my baby.

Like I said, I had this dream. Specifically the first and last scene. And ya’ll while I wrote the crescendo, I played Tyler Blackburn’s “Can’t Love Me.” Specifically starting at 2:11. I highly recommend playing it as you read from:

“Until out of nowhere--“Y/N???””

But that’s just me. I replayed that scene with the music about a thousand times in my head, I won’t lie to you.

I hope you love this as much as I do!!

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@chasingeverybreakingwave

------

“Oh no it’s happening again.”

“What?! No not now,”

“Yeah I feel it, the pulling,”

“Dammit! No no no…” He grabbed you on both of your sides and pulled you into his chest as tightly as he could, but you knew it wouldn’t help; You were fading, and the last words you hear were:

“I will find you!!” 

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

Suddenly, you woke up in your bed in a cold sweat. 

“Dammit...not again,” You shook your head. “No, no no no NO!!!!” You let yourself have a moment of breakdown, before immediately grabbing the pencil and giant pad of paper from under your bed. You had to get it down before it faded, again. The face, HIS face. You furiously filled in the lines on his face you had missed before, and you finally got the dimples on his mouth right. However, it was the eyes that drove you most insane.

Half filled in while the rest of his face was taking shape, his eyes were the one thing you could never quite get. Not that you hadn’t seen them enough, you had been having dreams about this man for over a month straight now. Every night, the same man. But it didn’t feel like dreaming, not in the slightest. It felt very much like being awake in this world, everything was so real.

He was so real.

And so, after a week of these “episodes”, you decided to yourself that this couldn’t be a coincidence, that it was NOT a mix of your subconscious making up scenarios in your head, it was real. This man existed somewhere, and you were going to find him. 

However the question of “How” was still very annoyingly present. Sure you and this man had talked about everything, seriously EVERYTHING. Likes, dislikes, career, life stories--- well, at least you were pretty sure you had.

 Some conversations in your dream world were completely crystal clear in your mind-- 

When he was six and all he wanted was a red bike, and come Christmas morning it wasn’t there. He had stormed around his mom’s apartment having a total temper tantrum until his abuelita asked him to check if she had left her keys out in the hall from last minute shopping. He opened the door to reveal a brand new, shiny red 10 speed bike propped against their doorway.

“We lived on the 10th floor, with no elevator. My mom and abuelita carried that thing up 10 flights of stairs just so I’d have a happy Christmas morning,” He had told you with tears in his eyes.

And then others, containing any real information about where to find him, were a blur. Specific details like his name, his job, even where he currently lived-- they sounded like garbled nonsense when you tried to recall them.

The Universe is a sadistic bastard.

But that conversation about the bike-- it was so specific and so detailed that there was no way your mind could have made it up. No way. But all you knew was that at some point in his childhood he lived with his mom and abuela in a 10th story apartment somewhere in New York City. That’s it. 

And one more thing that you couldn’t shake-- his touch. 

There had been a dream where he had asked to kiss you, to which you happily agreed. He had pulled you close into his arms, his hands ran through your hair as he pressed his lips against yours. And every dream since then, you two were always either holding hands or holding each other, or touching in any capacity-- as if you were both trying to memorize what it felt like.

Of course this still being “a dream”, a lot of the times your “dates” with this man were just playing out themselves, and you were blissfully unaware that they were even dreams. So you’d never think of asking “real” questions like where to meet or something. Only those few moments before you would wake would you realize “Oh that’s right, this isn’t real.” And by then it was too late.

But today was the day. You were sure of it. You had finally finished your drawing of your “dream man”, apart from the filled in eyes. Only an eyeline shaped hole rested in the middle of his perfect face. 

“Okay, that is just horrifying” You heard your roommate’s voice behind you.

“What? It’s perfect, Shi!” You defended your drawing. 

Sure you had hesitated telling your best friend of 10 years about your “situation”, but once you decided that you were going to find him, you knew you’d need her help. And so, after a very long conversation over a LOT of drinks, you had convinced her to help you. Well, reluctantly help you. 

“Well it’ll be no problem trying to find a guy with NO EYES,” She giggled.

“Shut up, I just...I can’t get them right,” 

“Can’t get them right? Girl have you or have you not told me that you have studied that man’s face EVERY night for the past 6 weeks?” 

“Yeah but….they’re so...perfect,” You sighed-- the gaping eye hole was mocking you. It was like the Universe saying “Good luck finding him without THESE!!!!” 

But you knew, you just knew in your heart of hearts that if you saw his eyes in real life, you’d know. You’d know instantly. You had this-- look, between you. The way he looked at you, the love and passion in his beautiful green eyes.

You couldn’t draw that on paper.

“Well just how do you expect us to make a “missed connection” flier with a demon looking guy like that?” 

“Look Shiloh, it’s a start ok?” 

“It’s not! You need those eyes, eyes are the most distinguishing trait on a person’s face!” She shook the paper at you.

“I know that!!!” you scoffed.

“Alright well...just, try again tonight yeah?” She put a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah alright,”

----

The next night you did all the nightly rituals you had read and researched up on how to “lucid dream”. Eating certain foods, meditating before bed, repeating mantras as you fell asleep-- sometimes they helped you take control of the dreams, sometimes not.

But this has never happened.

-----------

You were suddenly “awake”, in a park. Wait, this wasn’t just some generic “Dream” park. You knew this park. You immediately started scanning the sights around you-- kids playing and running around, people talking on a fountain-- The fountain. You knew that fountain. Your eyes darted quicker around the scenic picture for a statute, and there it was.

This was Central Park. And not just Central Park, a very specific part of Central Park that you passed most days on your way to work. Could this just be the “coincidence” normal dream stuff seeping in? Just images of your day being played out in your REM cycle? I mean he wasn’t even--

“Dream girl,” His voice came from behind you. 

You spun to face the fountain and saw him in an off white cream colored suit, with a pink tie. His hair was in a coif, and for the first time maybe ever, you noticed him carrying a briefcase. 

“Hey you,” You smiled, pulling him into a long, deep kiss. 

“So, Central Park today huh? You know you could’ve told me that beforehand I wouldn’t have paid an Uber to drive --- blocks.” You noticed the blurb in his number. Wait, wait this wasn’t happening.

“Wait, what?” You were suddenly “awake” .

“My office? It’s just about ---- blocks that way,” He pointed forward-- South. 

His office was south from Central Park, only a few blocks away. Within walking distance.

“What else?” You grabbed him.

“What else? Baby are you ok…?” He backed up one step in concern.

“Dammit, snap out of it abogado!!!” You snapped at him, leaving you both in shock-- but for two different reasons. 

He was suddenly “awake” in this world too, but you had just called him a name in spanish that you did not know the meaning of.

“Since when do you know spanish?” He asked.

“It’s spanish? QUICK tell me what it means!!!” You shook him.

“Abogado means--” 

-----------

And he was gone. It was gone. You had been pulled suddenly from your dream world, something that had never happened before. It wasn’t even morning yet, the sun was barely peeking out from the skyline. You had never gotten that close to getting details from him, NEVER.

Maybe the Universe was catching on. 

You grabbed your phone from the charger beside you and furiously typed “Abogado” into google translate. And there it was, in black and white:

Lawyer.

This guy was a lawyer, who worked a few blocks south of Central Park. If he was real. You sighed to yourself as you put your phone down and went back to sleep.

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

And you were in the park again. 

“Hey, there you are! Where’d you go?” the “abogado” asked you with his dreamy smile. Wait, was he “asleep” again? And why did you pick up here? He knew you were gone? WAS THIS PLACE REAL?

“ABOGADO,” You shouted at him like a crazy person.

“...You don’t know spanish, why do you know-- Oh my god,” The man was suddenly cognizant of everything.

“Baby! Aw, baby girl I’ve missed you..” He pulled you into a kiss. You let him for a second, then pulled away quickly.

“Look, I don’t know what’s happening but this--” You gestured around the park. “This is near where I live. In reality,” 

His eyes widened as he recognized where you were. “This is a few blocks from my office-- in reality,” 

“Really? Really.” You were becoming frantic.

“I mean, if this is at all real, and you’re real--” He began looking around the park.

“I’M real, are YOU real?” You couldn’t believe he was questioning YOUR existence.

“I think the fact that we’re both questioning each other’s existence, might be either brain death or some kind of reality where we both do indeed exist,” He smirked.

“God you’re smart, why did I not know this before?”

“...I don’t know, we don’t really get into details usually, do we?” 

“No but now-- oh my god, NOW,” You grabbed him again excitedly.

“Now what? Oh, I love that guy’s suit…” He peered over your shoulder.

“Rafael will you FOCUS?” You both stopped and stared at each other as soon as the name left your lips.

“...I-I’m sorry, what?” He was turning pale

“Rafael...w-why did I just call you Rafael?”

“....Rafael’s my name,” He stared at you in disbelief. He actually looked shocked that you knew his name. 

“Y/N,” He finally spoke.

“Y/N is my name!!!!” You squealed. “This is happening, this is happening Rafael!!!!” You grabbed him in a hug but he still stood there in a daze.

“Oh god are you fading?” 

“N-No, I just...you have a name,” 

“...I..yeah?” You scrunch your nose. “Did...do...do you not think I’m real?” 

“No!” He shook his head. “I mean I do think you’re real, I just...this...this hasn’t happened before,” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, staring at it while he did it. Like he was memorizing the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I know, this is the most detailed “episode” we’ve ever had,” You pressed his hand harder against your cheek, memorizing the feeling of his hands over yours. 

“Tomorrow,” He stopped stroking your face and looked at you very seriously. 

“What?” 

“I-I feel it, I’m waking up-- damn early court time,” He grumbled. “But tomorrow-- er, today,” He grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them as hard as he could.

“If we are both real, we’ll meet here at this exact spot at 3:30 today, yeah?” You could see his body slowly disintegrating in front of you like Peter Parker at the end of Infinity War.

All you could do was nod as you felt yourself waking up, but you gave everything you had to grab him in one last kiss….

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

BEEP BEEP BEEEP!!!!!!

Your alarm was yelling at you, but you were already wide awake. Today was the day. Today at 3:30, in Central Park, you were going to meet your dream man.

If he was real. 

-------

The minutes passed by like hours, he would pick the day you have off so you could just sit there and stare at your phone obsessively all day. Of course after you had taken at least 2 hours to make sure you looked absolutely perfect for your man. 

You wanted to look like his dream girl. 

Finally, it was 3:20. Shiloh had come home early to walk with you to the park, there was no way she was missing this. You wanted enough time to make sure you’d be there exactly at 3:30, not a minute after. You held hands with Shi as you entered the park’s gates and just a few yards away was the fountain area you had been in last night. 

“So...this is it,” Shiloh dropped your hands.

“I know....What time is it?” You shuddered with excitement.

“3:29-- you know maybe he’s not a stickler for time like you and needs to be obsessively early everywhere babe,” 

“He’s a lawyer, they’re usually pretty punctual,” You raised an eyebrow. “Plus, if he’s as excited as I am he will be here on time,” You were bouncing on your heels like a little girl.

“Well, it’s 3:30 now…” You both began to look around the area. You had brought the drawing so Shiloh had an idea of who she was looking for, although she still deemed it impossible without his eyes.

“Y’know he said he had court today, maybe it’s further away from here,” You spoke out loud, still scanning every inch of the park. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more, Shiloh or yourself.

Every second that passed by, your heart broke into teenier tinier pieces. You felt sick to your stomach, you were shaking-- you needed to sit. 

Shiloh came and joined you on the side of the fountain and held you in her arms as the park suddenly began filling very quickly. There was some sort of event happening soon, and people were getting “good seats”.

“Wh-What? No, no you guys can’t be here!” You frantically began circling people. “How is he supposed to find me if you’re all surrounding this damn fountain? HOW?!”

“Y/N….Honey, chill…” Shiloh tried to pull you away, but you jumped onto the fountain to get away from her as the area continued to fill with people, even police began to survey the area-- they stared at you, whispering things into their walkies. They were going to ask you to get down. They were going to ask you to leave. They were going to make you lose your chance forever--- and you couldn’t have that.

“RAFAEL!!!!!!” You started screaming into the crowd. Several members of the crowd began turning and staring at you as you repeated the name over and over again, walking around on top of the fountain as you did. 

“Are you nuts you’re going to get us arrested!!”  Shiloh hissed, pulling on your arm.

“I don’t care--- RAFAEL!!!!!” You knocked her hand away and started screaming again.

“Ma’am, you’re going to need to come with us,” A Park Ranger started for your hand but you evaded it as you continued circling and screaming like an insane person.

“NO!!! I CAN’T!!!!! HE’LL BE HERE!!!! RAFAEL!!!!!!”

-------

“I mean, are you SURE it was this end of the park, Rafa?” Olivia Benson circled the same spot her and Rafael had been walking around for several minutes now. 

“Yeah, I’m sure! There was a statue--”

“There are a LOT of statues in here, Rafa. Did you see anything else in this ‘dream’?” 

“Look Liv, I appreciate you coming with me even though you don’t believe in this at all, but the snarkiness is not helping,” He folded his arms with a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I’ll--” Olivia was cut off mid-sentence by her walkie going off. “Benson.”

“Yeah hi, this is the CP patrol-- We heard you were around here, and I think we’ve got a-- what do you call it, special victim? This girl’s running around crazy yelling for some dude, I think she might be a few circuits short of a circuit board,” 

“Where are you?”

“The South Entrance by Lootney Fountain,” As those words rang out through her walkie, Rafael’s eyes widened. 

“The fountain…” He muttered, beginning to sprint across the park. “I forgot about the fountain!!!!!!”

-------

The CP Patrol had gotten you off the fountain and were trying to calm you down, but you wouldn’t stop yelling Rafael’s name. Until out of nowhere--

“Y/N???”

You’d know that voice anywhere. You jumped out of the cop’s reach and back onto the fountain where you could see over the crowd. Your eyes frantically searched when you saw a man running towards the fountain; from across the park, and then you saw his face.

It was Rafael.

The second you locked eyes, you both just stopped moving entirely. You were pretty sure you had stopped breathing. You could see everything in those big beautiful green eyes you had the hardest time putting down on paper. You saw the same thoughts running through his head as yours:

He was real. You were real.

“Y/N!!!!!!” He finally yelled, making the crowd turn to face him. He disappeared into the sea of people as you jumped down and began tearing through them like mad. 

“RAFAEL!!!!” You screamed, knocking people over left and right. He was sprinting across the lawn, more desperate to get to you than anything in his entire life.

“Y/N!!!!!!” You heard his voice again, and this time it was so much closer. So crisp and clear, just like it was in your dreams-- But this was real. It was really happening. You gave one last push through a group of stragglers to come upon a man huffing and puffing in a cream colored suit, with a pink tie. But he seemed to lose all signs of fatigue as you hurled yourself into his arms-- his real, open arms. He spun you around and kissed you deeper and harder than he ever had in any of your encounters. 

And it was real.

You felt it even more than the most detailed of dreams, his taste, the feel of his touch, his smell. You stood there locked in a kiss for several seconds, while Olivia waved off the coppers and Shiloh had broken through the crowd to see your very real dream man.

Finally, after convincing yourself to pull away from him, you looked into his eyes. His real, green eyes. You stroked his cheek while he kept the tightest grip around your waist, as if you were going to float away if he let up one second. 

“You’re real,” You blinked back tears.

“So are you,” He held back his own tears, stroking yours away from your cheeks. 

“I love you, Rafael,” You whispered, still scared to death you’d wake up at any moment.

“I love you, YN-- my dream girl,” He smiled back, pulling you into another long kiss.

That night you had normal dreams, which you didn’t mind in the slightest; because you slept in the arms of the man of your dreams.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #omg #one of my faves tbh #soulmate trope #Raul Esparza

[suite43]

36 or 39 for Starbee? 💋

39: kissing for comfort

Starscream sighed, chin in one hand as he swiped around a row of holograms in front of him, musing about this or that detail as he went.

It was time for something new. He hadn't quite come up with an actual excuse nor explanation for when Bee asked why, but he could worry about that later. A small voice in the back of his head muttered just tell him the truth, but frankly, Starscream didn't feel in the mood for the little yellow mech telling him about how he just needed to accept himself, or how he was perfect just the way he was, or whatever other scrap someone like Bumblebee would say. It didn't help that he was forged. He didn't get it.

Besides, how could Starscream tell him that the reason he was rebuilding his frame, again, was because Bee had framed a photo of the two of them and left it on his desk with a bow and a note with a heart on it. It was a sweet gift, it was, and Bee looked so happy in the picture. But Starscream couldn't stand to look at himself.

He didn't think he was particularly bad looking. Most of the time, at least. Sure, he could obsess over this and that until the sun came up, but the frame wasn't ugly, it was fine, it just... It wasn't him. He didn't look at it and feel himself, but he knew, logically, that it was him, and that was uncomfortable. It made him almost nauseous to have to try and deal with that, with it being him and not him at the same time.

It would be the same if he got a new frame. He already knew that. If he talked to Bumblebee, that was probably what he would say. It's not going to make you happy, Star. You're not going to be able to just fix this so easily. Starscream hated it. Bee was right and he hated it.

Because the truth was that Starscream had never recognized himself. Even looking at the image of the frame Windblade had said was his true form, he didn't see himself. Whoever that Starscream was, it wasn't him. He didn't know what he was, he didn't know what he wanted, and right now he just never wanted to have to look at any face that was and wasn't his ever again.

Maybe he'd just cut himself out of the picture. Maybe he'd replace it with one of just Bee, or Bee and Thundercracker. Maybe he'd cover himself with the adorable, annoying little sticky notes Bee left around the apartment that said things like don't forget to eat and wheeljack's coming over at 7:00 and remember that i love you!

He looked at the picture, winced, and looked back at the row of potential new frames, none of them right and none of them him, and he groaned and slammed his face on the desk, burying his head in his arms.

He wasn't really sure how long he stayed like that, but at some point he suddenly realized there was a hand on his arm and a soft voice whispering his name.

"Hey, Bee," he muttered, voice muffled by his arms, refusing to look up.

"Are you alright, Star?"

"M'fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm," he said, shoving off Bee's hand. Bee didn't try to put it back, but Star felt a slight pang of hurt coming from him as his field winced inwards. "Fine."

"Planning on getting a new frame?" he asked carefully.

"Thinking about it," Star replied, looking up to glare at the row of holograms. "None of these, though. They're no good."

"Why not?" Bee asked.

"They just aren't." It was silent for a moment.

"Star, do you want me to leave you alone?" Bee asked. Starscream paused. He wasn't sure what he wanted. But Bumblebee, perfect, patient Bumblebee, didn't push. He waited. Starscream hated it.

"I... no," he decided. Every part of his brain was telling him to scream and yell and throw shit until too good too nice perfectly patient Bumblebee got the hell out of his life forever. Starscream had learned that he ought to ignore that part. Didn't mean it wasn't hard to.

"Okay... Do you want to tell me what's wrong, or do you want to talk about something else?" There wasn't any judgement in it. It was just a question, just an offer. No strings attatched. "I'm here, Starscream, for whatever you need."

"It's not... me. It's never me. No matter what I do I've never felt at home in my own body. But I don't know what else to do."

"Then why try?"

"Wh. what?" That... wasn't what Starscream had been expecting. "Are you seriously telling me to just give up?"

"No, I just mean, like. Maybe your body isn't ever gonna feel like you, but why does it have to? You change frames so much anyways, so it's not like any one is what you're stuck with forever. Why not just try to make it something you like instead of chasing after some nebulous sense of identity?" Bee shruged. "Maybe I'm way off base, but for me, I just. I've never felt like this," he gestured vaguely to his frame, "is who I am? It's a part of me, sure, but it's not most of me. When I think about who I am, I don't define it by, I dunno, how tall I am or what colour I wear right now. I just do what I enjoy, and the rest of what makes me, the important stuff, y'know, our personalities and the way we act and who we think we are, that stuff comes through no matter what."

"Where do you draw the line between 'thing you enjoy' and 'personality trait'?" Starscream asked.

"I dunno. That's part of what I mean, though. If you just do what you enjoy, it's going to look more like a reflection of who you are. Even if it never really feels that way from the inside, at least you'll have something you're proud to look at," Bee gestured to where Star had turned the picture frame backwards so he didn't have to see it.

"Hm. Worth a shot, I suppose," he shrugged. "I've... not thought about it that way before."

"I know, dork. You've never done anything just for fun, ever, in your miserable life," Bee said, teasing, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, and Starscream smiled despite himself.

"And I suppose the life of Bumblebee has just been one big laugh riot?"

"You've met my friends, right? I couldn't avoid a good time even if I wanted to. Believe me, I've tried."

"Fair enough," Starscream sighed, looking back up at the holograms, dissipating them with a wave of his hand before pulling up a row of new options. "Help me pick?" He offered.

"Ooh, sure, scoot over!"

"Mmm, no, I don't think I will," Starscream said, instead scooping Bumblebee up and settling the smaller yellow mech in his lap, resting his head on Bee's shoulder. Bee laughed and pressed a kiss to Star's cheek before turning his attention to the variety of ideas Starscream had cooked up for new frames, muttering on about this and that.

"What about this one? I like the wings."

"Are you kidding? They're huge."

"Aw, but they look like a butterfly or something. We could match!" Bee twitched one doorwing where it was pressed between Star's chest and his own back. Starscream kissed along the top edge without really thinking about it, just enjoying having Bumblebee close, his weight and the warmth of his plating a grounding presence, giving Starscream something to focus on other than the droning thrum of discomfort running through the back of his mind.

"No, I'd be walking into doorframes for weeks. Besides, look at this one..."

#sorry the actual kissing took a backseat this time. im having a think about gender dysphoria #also this is what this is btw. this is two nonned binary robots talking abt gender dysphoria and bodies #red.doc #starbee #starscream #also for emphasis bee is not the kind of person to actually try and talk star out of getting a new frame so he can ~accept himself~ #or whatnot. star just kind of assumes he would.

[esmealux]

The Devil Doesn’t Do Children

Part: 2 / ?

Setting: About a year after 5a

Word count: 3.5K

Rating: T

Summary: ‘I certainly did not choose to impregnate the Detective, Doctor!’ In which Lucifer doesn’t know how to cope and goes to see the one person who might be able to help him. 

Warnings: Mention of death, murder (and, quite indirectly, foeticide)

When Chloe parks the car a little outside the film set, Lucifer has finally got his thoughts and the threatening sensation in his chest under control. He had stared silently out of the window the entire ride, calculating, weighing the different possibilities; which one was more likely—him impregnating her after being sterile since the dawn of time, or her getting food poisoning from a hole in the wall filthier than medieval England? The latter. Definitely the latter. It is the only logical—nay, possible explanation. He has no doubt.

But then she asks him to get her a gum from her glove box (she still has a bad taste in her mouth), and when he looks inside the small space to find the pack she always keeps there, something catches his eye, something pink and flat, something he usually associates with mood swings and five days of limited access—something that reminds him she’s more than a week late.

He grabs the gum between his fingers and hands it to her, smacking the glove box shut as if it will erase what he just saw and the distressing epiphany it led to. He searches for alternate explanations in his panicking mind, something, anything, that will ease his returned and now stronger fear that she’s… That they’re… But he comes up with nothing. Just obscure theories that even he will admit are far-fetched.

He doesn’t say anything—not because he knows she doesn’t want to have the conversation on their way to talk to a potential suspect, but because he can’t. So he just follows after her like a lost puppy, until they’re suddenly sitting in a cramped trailer, facing former child-star, current man-child Max Steinfeld.

‘Why did you walk away when we asked you about Laura?’ Chloe asks the actor. He had fled? Lucifer hadn’t noticed. Then again, he’s not entirely sure he would have remembered if they’d been in a car chase, or a gunfire.

The sad example of a man slides a tabloid towards them in response to the Detective’s question. The front page shows a picture (undoubtedly shot by a paparazzo) of him and Riley walking down the street hand in hand, smiles plastered on their polished Hollywood faces. Next to the headline promising insight in ‘all the details about the magical wedding,’ there’s a close-up of an offensively distasteful diamond ring.

Lucifer sees a chance at escaping the cacophony of disturbing thoughts in his head and takes it. ‘What, because you’re marrying Miss Riley and didn’t want a murder case spoiling your-’ he takes the magazine and swiftly flips through the pages till he finds the right one, ‘uber-romantic seaside wedding? Is that it?’ Lucifer leans a little forward and stares intensely into the man’s eyes, his best cheshire grin playing on his lips. ‘Come now, Maximillian, what is it you truly desire?’

‘I…,’ he begins, not blinking as he’s sucked into Lucifer’s stare, ‘I want to stop pretending.’

‘Pretending that you didn’t kill an innocent woman because you put a bun in her oven?’

Steinfeld’s brows draw together in confusion before they arch up in worry and disbelief. ‘Laura’s… dead?’

Lucifer’s just about to call him out on his charades, when the Detective jumps in and confirms that she was found in her home, stabbed to death.

Max’ face turns white. His jaw goes slack. Then a cry of raw agony fills the confined space.

*

Once Steinfeld has calmed down enough to continue the conversation, Chloe decides to go easy on him and begins by asking him where he was between 9 and 10 PM last night.

‘With Moni,’ he says, looking almost ashamed. ‘I had a date with Laura—we were gonna see each other for the first time in weeks—but she didn’t turn up. I figured she was still mad.’

‘Mad?’ Chloe prompts him to elaborate.

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly handle the whole pregnancy-thing very well. I couldn’t- I just- I panicked.’

‘So you killed her,’ her partner concludes beside her. She gives him a stern look and a reprimanding ‘Lucifer.’ He ignores her.

‘No! I would never hurt her! I love her,’ Steinfeld tells them, all kinds of emotions swimming in his eyes. ‘But when she told me, I just couldn’t… deal with it, so I ignored her, for five weeks. One thing was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m-’—he gulps and takes a deep breath—‘was gonna be a dad, but I also had no idea how I was gonna tell them.’

Chloe is just about to ask who he means by ‘them’ when Lucifer opens his mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, my mistake. I’ll refer to them as Mx Riley from now on.’ He sounds genuinely apologetical. Chloe side-eyes him, confused.

‘What? No,’—Steinfeld shakes his head—‘Moni goes by “she”. I meant the studio. They made us sign a contract at the beginning of production in which we agreed to pretend to be a couple in public to-’

‘Build hype around the movie, sell more tickets and boost your personal career?’ Chloe finishes. She’s familiar with the concept. 

‘Yeah, something like that,’ Steinfeld mutters and rubs his brow, his hand still visibly shaking from the shock. ‘But I was growing tired of it. I like Moni, she’s one of my best friends, but nothing more than that, and what I had with Laura was so… real. It was all pretty new, but she made me happy. I wanted her in my life—to share my life with her. Still, I was nowhere near ready to have a baby with her, to become a dad! I mean, I still have a bad reputation in the business, I’ve spent all my savings on drugs and alcohol and a mansion I can’t afford, and sometimes I get so stressed I don’t eat for days. How am I supposed to take care of a kid?’ His voice is laced with frustration and tears stream down his stubbled cheeks. She expects Lucifer to scoff at the ‘dramatics’, or at least show some kind of disapproval of the emotional display, but he doesn’t.

‘Look, I get it,’ Chloe says, laying her arms on the table. ‘When I was pregnant, me and my ex-husband were absolutely terrified too.’

She senses Lucifer looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s not sure why, or what it means, so she ignores him and continues.

‘Is that why you did it? Did you go to her place when she didn’t show up for your date and then when she brought up the baby you lost your temper? You got scared?’ She wills her voice to be calm, knowing the man is vulnerable.

Max frantically shakes his head. ‘No! No, more the opposite! I was gonna tell her that I loved her and that I was gonna try. That’s why I went to Simone’s when she didn’t show up. Moni knew about Laura, what she meant to me, so I went to her to talk about how we could escape this fucked-up PR stunt controlling our lives,’ he points angrily to the smiling picture of him and Riley on the cover of the tabloid, still on the table. When he continues, his voice is calmer, but also more emotional, ‘so we could be free, and I could do right by Laura… and our baby.’

Chloe turns to look at Lucifer—to see if he, too, believes Steinfeld is innocent—only to discover that her partner is glowering at the now frightened man across from them. Lucifer is breathing heavily, his fist clenched between them, his knuckles white. His voice is sharp and venomous when he speaks, almost hisses, ‘How exactly were you gonna do right by them? How could you just accept that you were gonna be a… a father, even when you knew, in every cell of your damned body, that you couldn’t?’

He’s standing now, his tall frame shaking, heat rolling off him. She reaches for his hand to calm him down (Steinfeld has faced enough trauma today as it is), but he quickly draws it back, as if he’s burnt by her touch. His eyes remain brown and his face smooth and tan, anthropomorphic—still, a lump settles in her throat. Before she can say anything, he speaks again, his voice lower now, only a few octaves from demonic and flaming with something she can only describe as wrath. Wrath and pain. ‘How could you ever pretend to love something you never wanted?’

He storms out of the trailer, surprisingly elegantly considering his emotional state. She excuses herself to Steinfeld and rushes out to talk to her partner, comfort him, ask him what the Hell is going on.

But he’s gone.

Vanished.

Sighing, she bends down to pick up a large, silky feather from the ground.

*

The door bursts open, the hinges shrieking in protest as it slams against the wall and knocks down a picture frame in the process. Linda takes a deep breath and slowly turns around to face her intruder. ‘Lucifer, what have I told you about barging-’

The words get stuck in her throat when she sees him. His hair is dishevelled, his clothes wrinkled and disarranged. A dash of colour is missing where a pocket square usually sits and completes his outfit—whether he lost it without noticing or he didn’t pick one out in the first place, she can’t tell, but either way, it’s concerning. Even more so when combined with his face. Oh God, his face. He looks pale, too pale—ghostlike. His pupils are mere specks, his eyes manic. His chest heaves rapidly as he takes in short, ragged breaths.

Last time she saw Lucifer in a state similarly chaotic, dark, leathery wings were sticking out of his back. Before she can ask him what’s wrong, his tremulous voice fills her office.

‘The Detective’s pregnant.’

Not what she’d expected, but his reaction seems about right.

She goes to his side to help him sit down on the couch, pours him a glass of water, and doesn’t sit down till she’s made sure he’s drunk some. Once in her chair, she takes a deep breath, partly to prepare herself for the incoming conversation and partly to make Lucifer mirror her so they can get some oxygen to his head. She’s not sure if angels can pass out, but she’s not gonna take the risk.

‘Okay,’ she says calmly, ‘and how do you feel about it?’ The question sounds kind of absurd as he’s sitting there, practically radiating distress. Nevertheless, he needs to put his feelings into words.

‘How do you think I feel about it, Doctor?’ he growls.

She doesn’t answer that. Instead, she looks at him with a slight smile and raised eyebrows, inviting him to tell her.

‘I feel betrayed, for one,’ he spits, feeding her plant with the sparkling water she’s provided him—before emptying his flask into the glass and taking a large gulp.

‘By whom?’ she asks.

He glares at her and takes another sip. ‘My father, obviously.’

Linda suppresses a sigh of frustration. She’d thought God coming to Earth and their subsequent bonding time had finally made Lucifer bury his manipulative daddy issues. Guess she was wrong. ‘What do you think your father has to do with Chloe getting pregnant?’ She doesn’t miss how he winces at the last three words before his face sets into taut lines.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Doctor.’ His voice is thick with sarcasm. ‘I mean, it’s not like he has ever sent down one of his pathetic thralls to “bless” a barren couple with a spawn.’

‘How are you so sure you’re infertile?’ she asks him with narrowed eyes, leaning back in her chair. They’d thought Amenadiel was infertile, but she has 31 pounds of pure joy at home to disprove that. 

‘Well, it’s simple maths,’ he replies. She gives him a curious and mildly sceptical look, and he leans forward, putting his now half-empty glass down on the table. ‘Right, I’ve been practicing safe sex since the first ever condom came about—you know, for the sake of my lovers’ health—but condoms are only 98% effective at preventing conception, and the ancient prototypes were much worse, which means that, had I not been sterile, I would have fathered one hundred thousand children, give or take, throughout history, and I haven’t. I would have noticed; they would have flocked around me like little rats to get a piece of my fortune every time I appeared on Earth. Ergo, infertile.” He gestures towards his crotch with a dead-serious expression.

‘Right,’ she says, forcing herself to look at his face. ‘And what makes you think that that trait, or whatever you wanna call it-’

‘I call it a blessing,’ he interrupts her, the slightest glint in his eye as he peers at her from over the brim of the drinking glass.

‘What makes you think it’s everlasting?’ she asks him, a theory suddenly forming in her mind.

He furrows his brow. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Well, you’re not completely immortal anymore,’ she reminds him, her eyes shifting to his thigh where his first (not self-induced) scar is covered by his creased suit pants. He sends her a hurt look. ‘What a positively shitty way of trying to cheer me up,’ he huffs before downing the remaining liquor.

‘What I mean is,’ she begins to clarify, ‘what if your infertility is like your immortality?’ She lets the words sink in before she continues, ‘What if your aversion to having children, to becoming a dad, has affected your ability to physically father a child? But just like you chose to be vulnerable around Chloe, you’re now choosing to have a baby with her, to grow your family.’

He scoffs, almost laughs, but there’s no trace of humour in it. Only torment. ‘I certainly did not choose to impregnate the Detective, Doctor!’

‘Maybe not on a conscious level,’ she argues. ‘But maybe after the personal development you’ve been through, after seeing you’re worthy of being loved, not just by Chloe but also by Trixie, you’re finally realising, somewhere deep inside, that you’re also worthy of being someone’s dad.’

‘That is…’ he whispers, gazing out into empty air with a thoughtful expression, only to ultimately conclude, ‘absolutely preposterous!’ He sends her a dirty look, as if he’s accusing her of humbug. ‘I don’t want to be someone’s dad, Doctor—I don’t want a baby! The Devil doesn’t do children. I despise them. Always have. You know that.’

‘That doesn’t mean you always will. I mean, do you despise Charlie?’ She waits a couple of beats, watching him intently. ‘Do you despise Trixie?’ She nods in the direction of his chest, knowing his phone is in his breast pocket, nestled against his heart, the screen lighting up with a picture of himself and his two favourite girls every time he gets a notification.

‘Your son appreciates my devil face,’ he defends, ‘and the Detective and her offspring are a package deal.’ Linda knows he tries to appear indifferent, but he can’t hide the fondness suddenly twinkling in his eyes. If Linda wasn’t sure before, she’s now absolutely positive that Lucifer loves Trixie nearly as much as he loves her mother. She sees it all the time; it’s in the way his eyes flash red with hellfire when Trixie is hurt or sad; it’s in the way his chest puffs out with pride whenever he talks about her; it’s in his jealous stare when she and Dan laugh at an inside joke; it’s in his jubilant eyes when he’s the one who makes her laugh; it’s in the immense effort he constantly makes to always be there for her, to never disappoint her.

‘You might call them a package deal, Lucifer,’ she says softly, making him look at her, ‘but they call you family.’

He’s snatched the empty glass from the table and is now nursing it in his hand, unintentionally mimicking his nephew with his security blanket. His eyes are downcast, but she can tell his heart swells at the mention of the F-word. He’d dropped by her place about a month ago, shock all over his face. ‘The urchin referred to me as her family,’ he’d said. Linda had smiled and replied with a simple ‘Of course she did’. As narcissistic and self-indulgent as he is, he is surprisingly oblivious to other people’s affection for him. Then again, what else could you expect from a person who was abandoned by his parents, literally pushed into the abyss, and for eons deprived of any kind of love?  

With Lucifer’s background in mind, Linda steers the conversation back to his feelings about Chloe being pregnant. ‘If you’re being completely honest with yourself, Lucifer,’—she stares at him until he lifts his head and looks her in the eyes—‘what do you think is the main reason you’re having this reaction to Chloe being pregnant? Is it because you don’t want children?’ She lets him think for a couple of seconds before adding, ‘Or is it because you’re afraid you’ll let your child down like your dad let you down?’

Sadness flashes across his still ashen face before the muscle in his jaw flexes and hot fury fills up his eyes. ‘My father didn’t let me down,’ he snarls, putting the glass down with an alarming clank, ‘He banished me from my home and sent me to Hell—after my mother wouldn’t let him kill me! No words cover that immense extent of neglect, Doctor. That cosmic measure of betrayal!’ His voice is shrill and rough as he shouts the last word, accompanied by the jarring sound of the drinking glass shattering to a million pieces as it collides with the wall behind her.

Lucifer takes a few heavy breaths and, once he’s gotten his anger somewhat under control, pointlessly adjusts his jacket and straightens his spine. ‘No one should have to endure even a fraction of that,’ he tells her, appearing strangely remorseful. ‘Especially not an innocent child.’

And there it is.

‘You are not your dad, Lucifer,’ she reminds him. ‘Or your mom. You’re not gonna abandon your child. You’re not gonna hurt them.’ She waits till he looks up at her (his brown eyes are so sad it makes her chest ache) before she says, ‘You’re gonna love them with every piece of your heart and go to the ends of the earth, or Hell, to protect them, because that is who you are. Maybe you weren’t that person when you cut your wings off on the beach eleven years ago, and maybe not even when you first started assisting the LAPD. But that’s who you are now. Just ask Chloe and Trixie.’ She would add all the other people around him who know this to be true, who know him, but there are only two people whose opinions matter to him in this case. 

He doesn’t answer. His lips part, a smidgen of hope and belief appearing in the sea of fear in his eyes.

‘You referred to it as a “blessing” before, the fact that you couldn’t have children.’ He grimaces at the past tense. ‘Based on that, I assume you think having a child would be a curse?’

He raises an eyebrow, questioning her intelligence.

‘Right. But why do you think that is? I mean, if you think about it, is it really so bad that you and Chloe are having a baby? Someone who’s a beautiful mix of the two you, created out of your love for each other?’

He stops tending an invisible spot on her couch to look up at her. Colour has returned to his face, and the anger from before is gone; only a crease of worry remains. He looks tentative, but not scared to his core like earlier, his gaze warm and soft.

‘I…’ he says, musing. After a few seconds of silence, he answers, ‘To be frank, Doctor, I don’t know.’ His lips settle into a crooked line, stuck between a smile and a frown.

Linda lifts a friendly brow, her own lips tugging up at the corners. ‘Can’t know till you try, right?’

‘Right,’ he admits. It’s still not exactly a smile she sees on his face, but it’s close enough.

‘Have you talked to Chloe about all this?’ she asks him.

‘I haven’t, no. Do you think I should?’

Linda blinks, a little dumbfounded he’s even considering it an option not to talk about his fears with the woman who’s carrying his baby.

‘I’m joking,’ he says then, the smallest of smirks playing on his lips. ‘Of course I’m gonna talk to her! I just thought it best to, you know, sort out my own thoughts on the matter first.’

‘Oh,’ she mutters, realising she might not give him enough credit. He really has come a long way since their first session. ‘That’s very mature of you, Lucifer,’ she praises him.

The minuscule smirk from before spreads out into his cheshire grin. ‘What can I say? All good people know everything below an M-rating is boring and worthless.’

He smooths his pants over his thighs and checks his cuffs before standing and walking to the door. Just before he leaves, he turns to her with newfound courage in his eyes and says, ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a detective I need to have a chat with.’

Part I |  Part III | Part IV (coming soon)

#deckerstar fanfiction #writing #The Devil Doesn't Do Children #lucifer x chloe #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #dr linda martin #lucifer goes to therapy #hurt comfort #pregnancy #murder case #trixie espinoza #post 5a #established #angst #deckerstar #lucifer on netflix #lucifer fanfiction

[crackerjackawrites]

Journey to the Giggling Glade, or, Adventures of a Cottagecore NB Who Works in a Cafe (6k Words)

 Roman heads to a magical forest to gather some plants for their boss, Clara. But things don’t go as planned when Roman stumbles upon a mysterious figure outside the forest. (originally written August 2021)

“Roman!”

Roman darted past a server, nearly sending the plate of roast beef and vegetables crashing to the floor. They scurried past a chef leaning over a saucepan, disrupting his chanting and making him drop a half conjured tomato into the pan, it immediately began to sizzle. They ran through a large cloud of steam, taking in the rich smell of the sauce that was boiling just next to them. Finally, they got to the other side of the kitchen. Clara was standing there, her arms folded. Despite her mean demeanor, she was beaming, as always.

“Yes, Miss Clara?” panted Roman.

“I need you for an errand, dearie. I’ve just run out of spitebark root. Could you go out and get some for me, please?”

“Of course, Miss Clara,” said Roman, “Which store is that from again?”

Clara chuckled heartily, “Oh, dearie. It’s not from any store. You need to go out to the Giggling Glade.”

Roman’s face dropped, they couldn’t go out to the Glade! 

“I can’t go out to the Glade!” they said.

“Why of course you can, dearie. Come with me!”

Clara shuffled out of the bustling kitchen and into her private office. Roman had only been in there once before, when they first applied to work at Clara’s. Clara walked over to the side of the room, where a small table with two built-in hobs lay. The stove clicked as Clara set the temperature, before it finally ignited with flames. She grabbed a frying pan and placed it over the fire, then she began to cast into the pan. 

She placed her hand calmly in the centre of the pan, the roaring fire beneath not seeming to bother her at all. Granny hands, figured Roman, they were fireproof. She closed her eyes and exhaled, oil began to pool at her fingertips. The oil spread out until a thin layer covered the whole pan. As the oil began to boil, Clara clapped her hands together and separated them, between her palms appeared a rolled up piece of thin, edible wrapper with what looked to be chocolate inside. She placed the creation into the pan.

“These are ji-ai,” she said while summoning another into her hands and laying it beside the first, “a recipe from Western Piasohn. That’s not the important thing, though.” she waggled a third ji-ai at Roman, “I’m enchanting these. If you get injured, eat one and it will help. I’ll make you three, that should be plenty.” 

Clara turned from the three ji-ais in the pan. The smell of melting chocolate danced its way over to Roman and up their nose. The rich sweetness reminded them of a recipe their father used to make. Clara took a small bowl, placed her hand into it and concentrated again. Instead of filling with oil, the bowl began to fill with a golden sugar. 

“Now, spitebark is a funny little plant. They’re named spitebarks because they hate growing near each other. In fact, they hate each other so much that the flowers face in the complete opposite direction to the nearest other plant. That means you can always find them in pairs! I only need two as well, so you shouldn’t need to look for long - one will be for planting and the other will be for experimenting as soon as you get back.”

Clara turned back to the pan, the ji-ais were nicely browning. She flipped them over in the oil and walked over to a bookshelf. She grabbed a book and flicked through it before finding the right page.

“These are spitebarks,” she said, pointing to a drawing of a long, thin, brown plant. It looked like a twig from a tree had been planted in the ground. Clara moved her finger down the illustration, stopping at the large root at the bottom, “This is what I need, you can cut the rest of the plant off when you find it.” 

Clara reached into the pan and took out the first ji-ai, she rolled it around in the sugar until it was lightly coated, then she placed it onto a white napkin. She did this with the other two before wrapping them up. She then placed the napkin into a small pouch and handed it to Roman, who tied it to their belt. 

“Here you go, dearie! Now, you know how to get to the Glade, don’t you?”

Of course they knew how to get to the Glade, they’d been told their whole life to stay as far away from it as possible. And they had. 

Now, Roman stood before the Forest of Fables (which the Glade lay within). Clara had walked with them out of New Elmus but they had been on their own since leaving the city limits. Now all they had to do was find the Glade. It shouldn’t be hard, right? They just had to start walking and they’d stumble upon it eventually. That was the magic of the Glade - all it took was one step. But Roman had never been to the Glade before, they had no idea what lay within it. Their mother had told them time and time again to never go in but she never said why. Roman had no idea what to expect once they were inside. 

The wind whistling through the trees pulled Roman out of their thoughts and back into the real world. They had been standing at the edge of the forest for some ten minutes now, debating whether to enter or not. Clara would be furious if they came back empty handed. Roman had never seen Clara mad before, even the thought of it was breaking their heart. They had to get the spitebark. They just had to take that first step…

“Oi!” 

It was a voice from behind, Roman spun. Before them stood a tall, lean man with curly, blonde hair. He had his arms crossed and Roman imagined that if he were nearer the forest he would’ve been casually leaning against a tree. His smirk was that of a man who had many secrets, some his own and some belonging to others. He began to approach Roman, walking with a swagger that they were completely expecting, yet was still impressed by. As he got closer, Roman noticed his stark, emerald eyes.

He spoke again, “What’s someone like you doing out here? Didn’t your parents tell you that you shouldn’t go near the Forest of Fables?”

“I’m not a kid.” said Roman, bluntly, “Who are you, anyways?”

The man scoffed, “Haven’t you heard of me?” Roman genuinely hadn’t. The man paused for a second, expecting an answer, but continued once he realised he wouldn’t get one, “The name’s Bailey. Bailey Giload: mercenary for hire.”

“So, what, you’re out here to kill something?”

“Not today, my friend.” Bailey placed an arm over Roman. They flinched, but settled quickly, “Work’s been slow this week so I’ve had to expand my reach. I’m going shopping.”

Roman muttered, “Wait...” under their breath.

Bailey continued, “I’ve been sent out here by Fergus Ford of the Magnificent Beast Bakery. He told me to get him some spitebark root.” So many thoughts were flying through Roman’s head that they couldn’t get anything out before Bailey started speaking again, “But enough about me. You never answered my question; what are you doing in the Forest of Fables?”

In? thought Roman. Then they looked around. Since when had they started walking? Something about Bailey’s confidence had seeped into Roman, singel handedly slaying any intimidation they felt. From the forest, at least.

“I was… just… coming here to see what it’s like. Yeah. I thought maybe I could face my fears and finally try and go to the Glade.”

“You’re going to the Glade?” asked Bailey. 

“Yup.”

“Maybe I could help you out? I feel like I’m a tad more prepared than you are.” Bailey looked Roman up and down, then smirked.

Roman looked down at themselves, they were still mostly wearing the uniform from Clara’s. Then they looked at Bailey, he sported light armour that allowed for significantly more flexibility than the shirt and trousers that Roman wore. There was also a cutlass sheathed at his waist, which Roman imagined Bailey would whip out at any sign of danger, ready to protect them from whatever lay ahead. Then, after the monster was defeated, Bailey would look over to Roman and-

“Stop.” whispered Bailey. 

Roman froze in place and turned to Bailey. They whispered back, “What is it?” 

Bailey pointed deeper into the woods. Roman looked past the thick, mossy trees nearby, but they couldn’t spot what he was pointing at. Then, suddenly, something darted between two trees. Roman didn’t catch what it was. 

“Just stay calm.”

It jumped again, this time Roman saw it. The creature was lanky and covered in dark fur. Something shone from it as it moved. A weapon, maybe. It was hard to see any details from that distance. The creature continued to leap between the trees, slowly making its way over Roman and Bailey’s heads. 

Once it had left their sight, Roman asked, “What was that thing?”

“You’ve never seen an eavener before?”

“That’s an eavener?”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve only ever seen them in those Jaz Carpenter books?”

Roman paused, then looked down at their feet. Bailey struggled to stifle a laugh. 

Bailey continued, smirking and shaking his head, “You’re really not fit for being out here. Maybe you should turn back.”

“No,” said Roman. Bailey looked up, taken aback by their bluntness. “I have to get to the Glade.”

“Alright, fine. But don’t go hurting yourself.”

The two continued walking, only stopping for Bailey to take a drink from a pouch he had strapped to the side of his backpack. Roman sat on a tree stump opposite him. The smells of the forest were pungent now: wet dirt, wet bark and flowers that Roman couldn’t identify.

Bailey looked over, “I haven’t seen you drink anything this whole journey, why?”

“I didn’t bring water.”

Bailey’s eyes widened this time. They lowered the bottle from their mouth, “Oh my God, Roman,” suddenly Bailey’s whole demeanor changed, the once cocky persona melted away to reveal caring eyes and genuine worry. Bailey handed his pouch to Roman, “Here, take it. Finish it for all I care. Once we get back out of here I’m gonna teach you everything. I can tell you want to be out here adventuring but you’re clearly not prepared for it. Would that be alright?”

Roman put the pouch to their mouth. They didn’t drink enough to finish it, but it was still a significant swig. “Thank you,” they said.

“Cool,” said Bailey, “It’s a date.”

Roman nearly spat the water from their mouth, then they swallowed, “A date?”

“I mean,” Bailey perched on the stump next to Roman, “If you want to call it that.” 

He reached out for Roman’s hand. A heat rose within Roman, like coal being furiously shoveled into a furnace.

“I’d love to,” the hearth of their heart was erupting now. No one had ever seen them in this way before, and Roman had never seen anyone the way they were seeing Bailey right now.

Bailey closed his eyes and lent forward, Roman quickly caught on and followed suit. When their lips locked it was like nothing Roman had ever felt before. 

Then there was a thud and the sound of leaves rustling. Bailey let out a cry, nearly biting Roman’s lip. Roman’s eyes snapped open, they were still face-to-face with Bailey, but behind him stood the eavener. It loomed over Bailey, its long body taking it to nearly six foot when it stood on its hind legs. Its head was like that of a weasel. Roman bolted up from the stump and began to back away from the beast. 

“Please, stay back,” they said.

The eavener jumped from the stump, tearing its arms out of Bailey’s back. Roman saw that it had a piece of sharp flint in each hand. They were covered in blood now. Bailey’s blood.

It began to speak in a low whisper, “Get out of here while you can. And do not associate yourself with this human.” Then it leaped high into a nearby tree and scampered up it. 

“Bailey!” called Roman, running over to him. Bailey had fallen back after the eavener had jumped off of him and now he lay slumped over the stump he sat on.

His voice was frail, “Get out, Roman.... Save yourself.”

“No!” said Roman, “I can save you.” Roman untied the pouch from their waist and pulled out a ji-ai, “Here, take this.”

They fed Bailey the healing pastry, desperately hoping it would cure him like Clara said it should. But what if the wound was too large? Or what if the eavener had some sort of magical poison that gourmantic food couldn’t heal?

“Thank you,” said Bailey, “But why?” Then, his eyes widened and his face beamed with realisation.

“See?” said Roman, “Maybe I’m not all that useless after all.”

“No,” he said, colour already beginning to flood back into his face, “Saving me once doesn’t excuse forgetting to bring water.”

“Okay, fair,” said Roman, smirking.

The two sat there for a moment, Bailey still lying down on the stump and Roman sitting up next to him. They stared into each other’s eyes, living the moment. 

Bailey broke the silence, “So… are you going to tell me where you got those from? You don’t seem like you’d be prepared or experienced enough to bring something like that.”

Busted, thought Roman. They sighed, “Fine. I’m here to get spitebark root too. I’m here for Clara.”

Bailey sat up, “What?”

“Look-”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“It just never c-”

Bailey jumped up from the log, “We kissed! You should’ve said before that!”

“It never came up!”

“It shouldn’t need to come up!”

Roman looked away, “Look, okay,” they said, “You’re not perfect either!”

“What do you mean?”

“The eavener told me. It said, ‘do not associate with this man.’ There’s something up with you, too.”

“Wait, when did it say that?”

“Right after it stabbed you! You were probably too busy wailing to hear.”

“Oh c’mon! Now you’re picking on me for screaming in pain after I got stabbed!”

Roman paused, “No. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Bailey smiled weakly.

Roman couldn’t help but beam back at him, “God damn it. You’re too cute for your own good!”

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets.”

“Great!” Bailey spun around, before pointing in the direction they had been heading before, “Then let us continue.”

“Alright,” said Roman, following Bailey, “But you said it yourself, ‘No more secrets.’ So you’ve got to tell me, what did the eavener mean?”

Bailey huffed, “Fine.” He looked thoughtful for a second, probably thinking through what he was going to say. “The eavener’s don’t like me because of an old job I had. I can’t tell you who it was for - client confidentiality and all that - but suffice it to say they were powerful and rich. This was back when I had a party, there were four of us. I don’t really want to talk about them though. Anyway, we were asked by this client to go to the Forest of Fables and find the eaveners’ hideout, so that the client could bring in their army to eradicate them.”

“An army?” asked Roman, “Who was this guy, the king?”

Bailey glanced at Roman, his face blank, innocent.

“Oh.” said Roman, they looked down at their feet “Right.”

“Yeah,” continued Bailey, “After we arrived in the Glade it didn’t take long to find the eavener huts. You know how this place works. You’ll find what you’re looking for. They build their houses in the treetops, y’know? Put leaves underneath them to camouflage with the canopy. We only noticed them after a bird flew overhead and made…” Bailey mumbled a name, “-look up.” He took a long breath, Roman wrapped their arm over his shoulder. “We joked that we might have already walked past them and that the Forest was desperately trying to get us to find what we were looking for.” Bailey chuckled, and tears welled up in his eyes. He sniffed, “It didn’t go well, Roman. We were ambushed. I was the only one who made it out. And now the King thinks we’re all dead and if he knew I was alive he’d sure as hell try to stop me! And so now I’m stuck in mercenary limbo. I change my name for every job so that no one can track me.”

“Does that mean-?” 

“Bailey’s not my real name, no. But I don’t really have a real name. My birth name belonged to someone who abandons their team when anything goes wrong. I’m different now. And I’ve never settled on one name since. Maybe Bailey can become my real name. Since it’s what I was using when I finally found someone worth having an identity for.”

Roman stopped, “That’s…” The flood gates opened, Roman wasn’t expecting it to be theirs. They flung their arms around Bailey. Bawling, Roman said, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

Bailey patted Roman’s head then returned the hug, “Y’know,” he said, “We’re never going to get to the Glade if you keep stopping to be this cute!”

“Alright, alright,” said Roman, collecting themself, “Let’s go!”

Bailey squinted, “Is that-? Oh my God it is! Roman, we’re finally here!”

Roman gasped, and the pair ran towards the glade.

Bailey burst into the Glade, and Roman stumbled out not too long after. It was filled with bright light which highlighted the tall, radiant grass and sparkled off of a stream that travelled through. There were rocks neatly placed around, it almost looked too perfect to be real, but magic did that sometimes. A gust of wind blew towards the pair, when it moved through the trees behind them it sounded like laughter. That was how the Giggling Glade got its name. 

By the time Roman had struggled past the bushes and branches at the Glade’s borders and gotten used to the sudden change in brightness due to the lack of canopy, Bailey had already clambered up a rock and was scouting the area, his hand placed firmly at his brow to block out the sun. 

Roman called up to him, “Any specific place to look for spitebark?”

“I don’t know. This is my first time too.”

“You have first times? I figured you’d have already done everything there is to do.”

Bailey laughed, “Hey, there’s a difference between being better than you and being the best, a big one. Anyway I don’t think scouting up here is doing any good for finding the spitebark. From my understanding, they’re pretty small.”

“Why were you up here then?”

“Force of habit. Either that or some desperate hope that they’d be here.”

“Oh,” muttered Roman, but Bailey paid them no mind as he began to climb down.

Once he reached the bottom, Bailey looked full of energy again, “So,” he said, “What’s the plan?”

“So we’re looking for those thin, brown plants. They look like sticks,” said Roman.

“Yep.”

“And they don’t grow close together, that's why they’re called spitebark.”

“Really?” said Bailey, “Ford could’ve said something about that.”

Roman smirked, “Are you saying I actually knew something out here that you didn’t?”

“I guess I concede,” Bailey knelt on the floor and bowed at Roman, “Teach me your ways, O Monarch of Agriculture!”

“Okay I get it!” Roman chuckled, “Just let me have this one win!”

Bailey began to get back up. “Fine,” he smirked. 

“We should split up, cover more ground.”

“But-” started Bailey.

“But what? Aren’t we safe here in the Glade?”

“I mean, probably. But I don’t want to risk it.”

“What if we stay within sight?” said Roman, “That way we can cover more ground while also keeping an eye on each other.”

“Fine,” said Bailey, “Honestly I just want to be near you.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet! Seriously, though, I want to find these roots and get back quick.”

Roman called from behind Bailey, “I think I’ve found some!” Bailey turned, noticing Roman pointing at a rock. They stepped behind it and knelt, vanishing out of Bailey’s sight.

“Hey!” called Bailey, running over.

Roman popped back up, “What?”

“No leaving each other’s sight, remember!”

Roman scoffed, “Fine. Get over here then!”

As Bailey rounded the rock, Roman pointed at a plant. It was taller than Bailey expected, nearly coming up to his chest - or Roman’s chin. 

“Alright so this is one,” said Roman, kneeling down to grab at the base, “We need the roots so I’ve got to dig it up. At least I was given a spade.”

Bailey smiled, “Is there anything I can do?” he asked. 

“Only start trying to find another one.”

“Y’know what?” said Bailey, “I think I’m fine watching you dig actually. I’ll do the next one, though.”

Roman finished digging the dirt around the spitebark and lifted it up. At the bottom of the stem was a large, muddy bulb.

“Here it is!” they said, “Our first spitebark root!”

“We did it!” 

“Just one more to go for me! How many do you need?”

“Ford wants fifty.”

Roman flinched, “Fifty? That’s insane! How much is he even paying you for that?”

“Twenty five garsons, he said they were worth a half each.”

“I don’t even think there’s fifty in the whole Glade! These things are so rare they go for at least twelve garsons each.”

“What! You’re kidding, right?”

“No! He must’ve figured that he could rip you off because you don’t know about them.”

Bailey was boiling inside. How dare he? How dare Ford undercut him like that? Bailey spoke, “When we get back, I am gonna get that b-”

“Hey, hey, hey! I know what you’re thinking.” Roman looked down to Bailey’s hand, Bailey followed their gaze. Since when had he gotten his cutlass out? “We can speak to Clara when you get back. He’ll respect her. Everyone respects her. And he sure doesn’t deserve your blade.”

“You’re right.” said Bailey, resheathing his sword. He turned to Roman, “Hey, maybe I’ll start working for Clara when we get back. We would see each other more.”

“I’d like that,” said Roman, smiling, “Alright! Back to the search.”

“At least now we know there won’t be any around here,” said Bailey, gesturing vaguely in a circle around where they both stood. 

“Now that we’ve found one, another shouldn’t be hard. They point away from the nearest other plant.” There was a small flower bud at the top of the bark, it pointed out slightly. Bailey had thought nothing special of it until just then, 

“If I remember correctly,” continued Roman, “it was pointing that way before I dug it up,” they pointed right, “So we need to go that way,” Roman pointed left, then turned to Bailey, ”Sorry if I’m boring you by the way, I’m sure you knew all this.”

“Actually I didn’t. It seems like Ford wasn’t as useful as he seemed.”

Roman laughed, “It’s so weird. It’s like he just wanted you to get lost out here.” before turning to walk to the next spitebark.

That phrase echoed in Bailey’s mind. He just wanted you to get lost out here.

Roman turned back, realising that Bailey hadn’t moved yet. Then they realised, “You don’t think...?”

“Actually, Roman,” said Bailey, “I do think. I think he set me up! He sent me here knowing how dangerous it can be and would have had me sit here for hours hunting for something I’ll never find. Until what? Until I get found by eaveners? Until I’m overcome with the emotions of returning and just off myself right in the middle of the Glade? Until I go crazy and start seeing the ghosts of my dead friends?-”

There was a rustling from behind Roman, Bailey looked past them. Something was in the bushes.

Roman saw Bailey’s face drop.

“What is it?” they asked.

Bailey raised a shuddering hand, and pointed over Roman’s shoulder, they turned. 

Before Roman stood three humanoid figures, their skin was an ashen grey and their eyes were orbs of pale green light. The first was a tall, muscular figure who wore heavy armour and wielded a long spear. Beside him stood a shorter woman with a flowing robe, her hands were held out and magical fire was sputtering in them. Behind the two figures loomed a huge, bare chested man, his battleaxe’s head looked bigger than Roman’s entire torso. Each of the figures' clothing matched the grey of their skin. Roman also noticed green tentacles of energy wavered from the backs of their necks and into the bushes behind.

Bailey spoke first, “It’s them.”

The largest of the three let out a roaring battle cry as he and the other man ran towards Roman, the woman dodged to the side, the flames in her hands growing in intensity.

“Run!” called Bailey, but Roman couldn’t. They stood petrified as this colossus of a man stomped towards them, shuddering the ground with each step.

Bailey called again, “Roman!” But it was useless. The colossus brought his axe up, preparing to swing and-

Roman was tackled to the ground. The axe cleaved through the air, missing Roman’s head by inches. Roman looked around, Bailey lay next to them, his arms wrapped around Roman’s torso. His eyes were wide with terror, which slowly lowered to relief as they locked with Roman’s. 

Bailey sighed, but before he could say anything the other fighter charged towards them. He raised his spear and prepared to strike, but Bailey whipped out his cutlass and knocked the spear aside, spiking it into the dirt.

Roman scampered to their feet, noticing the colossus had lodged his axe into the ground and was struggling to pull it out. Bailey dueled with the spearman, deftly dodging his lunges and parrying those he couldn’t duck out of the way of. The woman’s fire had grown to an immense size, she was now holding a single flame between both her hands and was preparing to throw it towards Bailey.

It was Roman who called to Bailey this time, “Bailey! Over there!” Bailey looked up to Roman and then followed their pointing arm. He saw the huge fireball just as it was leaving the caster’s hands. He jumped away from the spearman and behind a nearby rock. The spearman stood still and emotionless as the fireball engulfed him. Roman covered their face with their hands as the heavy heat stampeded over them. They cried out as it lightly burnt their forearms.

Once the blast cleared, Roman lowered their arms. The grey figure still stood within the rubble. Roman looked over to Bailey, he was peeking over the stone and staring at the spearman in awe.

There must be something with that green magic, thought Roman. Looking once again at the tendril that went from the spearman’s neck. It still led towards those bushes. Roman ran to the rock that Bailey was still crouched behind, it seemed like the fireball had disoriented the spearman, he didn’t know where either of them had gone. 

Roman whispered, “Bailey!”

He turned, “What are you still doing here?” he said, exacerbatedly, “You need to get out! Run!”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” said Roman, “Anyway, I think I know what we need to do. We need to follow the magic that’s coming from them, maybe we can find a way to… I don’t know, turn it off?”

“Do you know how to turn magic off?”

“Not with magic, no. But we could kill it.”

Bailey shrugged, “Well it’s better than trying to kill them, did you see what that fireball did to Fabian?”

Fabian, that must be the spearman. 

“Alright, let’s g-”

A deafening roar sounded from behind them. Roman turned. The colossus stood before them, holding his axe high over his head. He brought it down. Roman and Bailey jumped in opposite directions, the axe cleaving right where Bailey was just standing. 

Bailey looked at Roman, they pointed towards the bush that the tendrils were wavering to. The two ran toward it, leaving the colossus to heave it’s axe from the ground once more. 

As they reached the bush, another fireball cracked overhead. It collided with the trees, sending them careening away. The stumps that remained began to burn, before the flames tapered themselves out magically. 

“Now what?” asked Bailey.

“I don’t know.” said Roman, “Just stab into it?”

Cutlass drawn, Bailey tiptoed up to the bush. He raised his arm to strike when something big and dark brown burst from the bush and tackled him to the ground. It was an eavener! It sat on top of Bailey, the three green tendrils leading straight into its head. The eavener raised one of its flint daggers to strike.

“No!” called Roman, running at the eavener. They tackled it off of Bailey. The eavener squirmed in Roman’s grip, slashing at their forearms with the stone blades. Roman screamed as the blades tore up their arm, like a pack of wolves tearing up fresh prey.

Then, all of a sudden, the flailing stopped. 

Roman looked up at the eavener, a sword was lodged into its chest, Bailey’s sword! Roman followed the curve of the blade and saw Bailey at the other end. He looked deeply troubled. Roman leapt up and spread his arms towards Bailey, then flinched as the movement caused a searing pain to travel up his forearms. Roman looked innocently up at him, he had already dipped back into that caring focus he had shown at Roman’s lack of water.

“Where are those roll-things you had before?” he said, quickly.

Roman slowly moved their arm to point at the pouch, careful not to bring back the stinging pain. Bailey deftly untied it from Roman’s side and opened it, pulling out one of the ji-ais. Roman opened their mouth as Bailey gently placed it onto their tongue. They bit down on it, easily piercing the wrapping to reach the chocolate inside. It sent a warm tingling through their whole body, which slowly focused and grew in their forearms. Roman looked down at their arms, watching as the flesh around the hundreds of cuts regrew and merged with what had survived the attack. The swelling, bloodied meat looked significantly more disgusting than it felt, the magic of the ji-ais actually making the feeling quite euphoric for Roman. Once the healing had completed and the warmth died down, Roman shook their arms out, returning some of the feeling they had lost in them.  

Roman suddenly realised “What about the others?”

Bailey took a sharp breath, “Oh no.”

Roman was fully expecting the colossus to burst through at that moment. But nothing happened. Now that they thought about it, they couldn’t hear the charging of magic fire either, or any noise that might have been coming from their adversaries for that matter. All they could hear was the faint tweeting of birds some distance away.

Roman turned around, looking back out over the Glade. The three figures all stood wavering across the field, standing in place like figures on a warmap. They looked to be in some sort of trance. Bailey ran over to the spellcaster, who was the nearest. 

“Merida!” he said, holding her face in his hands, “Please! Wake up! Please!”

Merida’s grey skin became flaky in Bailey’s hand. He pulled away, but the ash stuck to him. He looked at it in disbelief.

“No! This isn't- It can’t- Merida!”

Bailey tried to embrace the caster, but his hands wafted through her, scattering the ashes into the wind. Once again he looked in shock. Roman turned to watch the others. The colossus was the most intact, likely due to his size. Then a strong breeze caught his head, dispersing it just like Merida. The wind snickered as it passed through the trees.

Some horrid joke, thought Roman. 

Roman walked up beside Bailey and stood with him, the two just watched as the spearman Fabian’s legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor, the ashes spurting out in a circle around where he fell. The unnamed colossus also fell, knocked over by the wind. His final flourish was significantly larger than Fabian’s. 

Roman wrapped an arm around Bailey, “I’m sorry.”

Bailey just stood, his eyes wide and unfocused. Roman thought they heard him mutter something. “Thank you,” perhaps. 

“We need to get out of here.” continued Roman, pulling Bailey out of his trance slightly, “There might be more eaveners on the way.”

“Yeah,” Bailey muttered, but he wasn’t walking out of the Glade. Instead he stumbled over to the pile of ash that had been Fabian. “Let me just-” with a grunt, Bailey bent over and grabbed the spear. “I need to keep these. Preserve them.” He walked over to the colossus next and heaved the axe over his shoulder. The thing dwarfed him. Roman wasn’t sure how Bailey could even carry it.

Now that Roman understood what was happening, they walked over to Merida’s ash pile. A book lay buried in it (or in her, Roman thought, grimly), Roman hadn’t seen it during the fight. They dusted the ash from its cover, revealing an old leather-bound tome. It must be her spellbook, they thought.  

Roman turned as Bailey reached them, they showed him the book. Bailey nodded weakly. 

Roman noticed that Bailey was struggling with the massive axe, “I can take the spear if you want me to,” they said.

Bailey handed them the spear, “Be careful with it,” he warned. 

“Don’t worry, I will. I can tell what these mean to you.”

“Thank you,” Bailey turned slowly towards the forest again, “We should get going. If you want to get out of the Forest of Fables fast, you need to will it to happen. Think of New Elmus, think of people there who you want to get back to. Think of happy memories, that’s what the forest likes.”

As the two began to walk arm in arm, Roman pictured their sister, her shining, blonde hair and deep brown eyes, the smile that she gave them every time they came to visit her and their parents. They hoped she would never have to see something like what happened today. 

Then they thought of Clara. They’d only gotten the one spitebark for her, but after hearing what they’d gone through, they were sure Clara would be relieved that they had made it back at all. The experimentation will have to wait.

Lastly, they thought of Bailey. Not of present Bailey - he was right beside them - but of Bailey in the future. Maybe they could find a big house in the city and live together. Maybe Roman could continue their learning under Clara and eventually be able to cook for him every day.

Roman’s visions were cut short by a clap on the back, Bailey spoke, still solemnly, but with a cockiness that reminded Roman of their initial meeting, “Nice dreaming, champ.”

Roman opened their eyes. They were already at the edge of the Forest. “Wow,” they said, “That was fast.”

Bailey smirked, “Yeah,” he said, “Yeah it was.” He looked down at Roman, “Now, let’s get me to Clara’s.”

Knock knock. Knock knock. 

The door swung open, letting the familiar scents of the cafe float up into Roman’s nose. Before Roman and Bailey stood Clara. The small woman looked up at them, smiling.

“Ah, dearie! You’re back! And I see you’ve brought a friend,” she looked quizzically up at Bailey.

“Yes ma’am,” said Roman, “This is Bailey, he helped me out while I was in the Glade.” 

The two shared a glance and smiled, their arms were still wrapped tightly around each other.

Bailey turned to Clara and spoke, “I was wondering if you could help me out with something in return.”

---

ty @daydreamoceans for being my test audience <3

check out my other stuff tagged #gourmancy here

#writeblr #writing #lgbt fiction #creative writing #fantasy #lgbtq #nonbinary #fiction #crackerjackawrites #gourmancy

[tonystarkbingo]

3 Prompt Summaries Game

reunions, masks, body worship - suggested by @polizwrites

@polizwrites - Now that Rhodey was full time military, Tony hadn’t seen him  in months.  They  made plans to meet up in Key West  during Fantasy Fest  —  wearing masks (and very little else), they could finally indulge  their own fantasy of being a couple in public.

@psychiccatpanda - Rhodey took the kids trick-or-treating on his own because Tony had been called away on business again.  When they get back, Tony's home and has set the place up for a Halloween party for the kids and their friends. When the kids' friends go home and the lights go down, Rhodey takes his time welcoming his husband home.

@somesortofitalianroast - It was 5 years since Steve Rogers had last seen Bucky Barnes, when Barnes left in the middle of the night after they had sex for the first time, leaving the country the next day for a lucrative job, and Steve heartbroken. It had been several years since Steve had thought of Barnes, though he’d recognize the man anywhere, even behind a domino mask at a masquerade ball. Just seeing Barnes made his blood boil, and he wanted to charge across the ballroom, slap the man silly, and then worship every inch of the man’s body. Too bad he was at the ball with clients and there was no way he could do that without losing a very important contract.

@darthbloodorange - (ShrunkyClunks) - He waits in the shadows of an old warehouse, a mask obscuring his identity. No one could know he was here; not only would his reputation be tarnished, but that of the Avengers as their leader. But there was something about the dark assassin that drew him in. Barnes treated him like no other in this world. Treasured him, possessed him, worshipped him. Not like a hero as the world did, but as a man and lover.

Keep reading for lots more!

cookies, mermaid, dancing - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@somesortofitalianroast - Darcy didn’t bake for the Avengers all the time, and she never made her mermaid cookies, since they were complicated and she needed to pay attention to the details when icing them with fancy icing. So it was a big deal when she made them, the sort of thing that made you want to dance in the kitchen.

@gavilansblog - Luca AU where Tony introduces mer-people Steve and Bucky to cookies and dancing

@deehellcat - Morgan's eighth birthday party featured a mermaid theme, cookies with sparkly decorations, and dancing.

@psychiccatpanda - Bucky Barnes never dreamed he'd ever be put in charge of kids.  Who'd want the Winter Soldier for a babysitter?  But this little girl - Tony Stark's little girl - stared up at him, waiting for a reply.

He was pretty sure the last time he'd been this nervous was when he came back to the States after Wakanda.  "Yeah, we can do that.  Sounds like fun."

Which was how he found himself not-quite elbows deep in blue-green frosting for the ocean reef cookies they had baked (that he had baked) while Morgan spun around the kitchen dancing in her mermaid costume.

@lbibliophile-mcu - Tony looks at the tray of raw cookies in dismay. Whoever had designed the mermaid cookie cutter clearly had no concept of the baking skill of the average parent. 

He had managed to press out all the pictures without causing more damage than the occasional lost arm or misshapen head (and a couple of 'defective' cookies are always required for taste-testing straight out of the oven). But the process of transferring the cookies from the bench to the tray had caused the raw dough to stretch and fold and tear; leaving figures better described as some sort of vaguely-humanoid aquatic eldritch horror... 

Impatient, Morgan clambers onto her stool and gasps in delight. "Look, Daddy! The mermaids are dancing!"

@darthbloodorange - (Thundershield) - Thor set out on his boat to the middle of the lake. A smile on his face and a song on his lips. People feared the lake and the creatures that dwelled within. He didn't see why. Peering over the edge of the boat, he watched the mermaids dance. His eyes drawn to one in particular; the blond with the silvery-blue tail. He unwraps the cookies and sets them on the edge of his boat, hoping to draw the merman close again.

picnic, dragon, promises - suggested by @psychiccatpanda

@deehellcat - Steve and Bucky slip away from the village every chance they get to spend time together. Their favorite place to picnic is perilously close to a rumored dragon's lair, but they dare it for its beauty. imagine their surprise when one night as they stargaze and promise forever to each other, a dark shadow flies overhead then lands nearby. It's the legendary dragon, who greets them and offers to witness their solemn vows. (spoiler alert, the dragon is Tony, and I'm not sure what his relationship to them would end up being.)

@psychiccatpanda - Tony hated picnics.  He'd been on so many for photo shoots with his mom and Howard, then for Stark Industries, and the occasional summer charity event.  Picnics sucked.  There was either too much sun or not enough, not to mention bugs, screaming kids, or other couples making out. 

"You promised, Tony," the love of his life reminded him.  "And I got you a surprise." The surprise was a kite in the shape of a dragon. Suddenly, the day was looking better.

@somesortofitalianroast - Steve was walking to a picnic on the beach when he found a baby dragon, abandoned on the side of the road. He picked it up, intending to take it to the local fantasy animal shelter, but as soon as he touched it, he knew he would never be able to let it go. Which is why he was standing on the dunes, murmuring promises to the dragon in his arms.

@rebelmeg -  pepper sighed.  "tony, you promised you were gonna stop doing that." pointedly looking away from her, the red and gold dragon roughly the size of a large dog pointedly opened his mouth, and stuffed the donut hooked on his claw inside.  puffs of smoke emitted from his nostrils and he chuckled in a rough, growly way when a sandwich in a baggie smacked him in the back of the head. 

"we're never going on a picnic when you're shifted again, this is ridiculous."

@darthbloodorange - (Stucky, Fantasy AU) - Steve walks up to the den of the dragon; his once best friend and lover. Baskets of meat in hand, and his heart weighted heavily in his chest. He'd kept his promise for over 70 years, and he wasn't about to break it now. "Bucky, it's me. I know you remember me. You're in there somewhere, I feel it," he says in his elvish tongue. Within the den comes a mighty roar, seeming to shake the very core of the mountain. But Steve is not dissuaded.

bread, defenestration, jingle - suggested by @rebelmeg

@rebelmeg - standing at the window and very calmly eating her sandwich, natasha watched as clint climbed out of the bushes underneath and went streaking for the street, where an ice cream truck was driving past.  the second he'd heard the jingly song, the idiot had flung his own sandwich in the air and literally dove out the window.  wondering if he'd realize he didn't have any money on him, nat smirked.

@psychiccatpanda - (WinterIronHawk implied) To be fair, Clint had not thought about 'costume integrity' or the fact that the Christmas elf pajamas did not count for much in the way of bodily protection.  On the other hand, though, he'd just been planning on eating as much of the freshly baked panettone bread as Bucky let him get away with while they waited for Tony to get home.  Getting thrown through the  window of Tony's Malibu house by some Hydra experiment had not been on his radar at all. (Not Bucky - to be completely clear, he was cute and Clint didn't think mean things about people who baked him a nigh-endless quantity of sweets.)  At least he managed to keep the hat with its little bell that jingled cheerfully as Clint sailed through the air.

@darthbloodorange - Stony (probably a 5+1 fic) - Tony frowns as the familiar jingle of his phone drew him away from kneading his sourdough. He groans when he sees who it was that was calling. He nearly doesn't answer, but Barnes almost never calls, so curiosity gets the better of him. "Stark," the man greets, voice as gruff as ever. "What do you want?" he grumbles. "Arm's acting up again. Accidently threw your husband out a window. He's hanging on about the 26th floor? Thought you should know." "Damn it!" Tony cries, armour assembling around him quickly. He wishes this was the first time Barnes' arm had thrown an Avenger out the window... but it wasn't.

@lbibliophile-mcu - Tony likes bread as much as the next guy, but he is this close to swearing off the stuff entirely. He tenses as Clint moves behind him, his humming looping into yet another round of the jingle for the local bakery. He snaps. "Clint! If I hear another note I swear I will throw you out this window! And not send the suit after you." Clint grins, opens his mouth and... shuts it again. Silent.

Werewolves, Gardening, Hurt/Comfort - suggested by @darthbloodorange​

@somesortofitalianroast - (preserum!steve/werewolf!bucky) When he moved into the house, Steve was looking forward to growing a garden, with a large vegetable patch, all the herbs, and some flowers for the colors. He wasn’t expecting to get overheated. He certainly wasn’t expecting the werewolf to bound out of the woods to take care of him. He’d think he imagined the entire thing, except the werewolf stuck around. Still taking care of him.

@tehroserose - Steve and Tony had retreated into the woods. Obadiah had taken over Tony's birthright, and Hydra had encroached on Steve's home of Brooklyn. They met there, and lived off their wits. Tony did most of the smithing for the various exiles, while Steve gardened vegetables that were rare and valuable. They were content, and while they wished they could save their homelands, there was no real hope of doing so. No hope until one night, when Steve was doing one last check of the garden before going to sleep, he found a big, bleeding wolf.

@rebelmeg - "right here, honey," pepper pointed to a spot in the dirt, and tony padded over, pawing at the spot a few times before starting to dig.  "yep, that's enough." she stopped him when the hole was deep enough, then held out a hand for the flower morgan had cupped in her hands, cradling the ball of roots and dirt with care.  "see, now it's perfect!  you wanna take a ride on daddy now, morgan?  i  think he's getting bored with gardening."

"yeah!"  morgan jumped up with a shout, and scrambled up onto the werewolf's back with no problems.  "go, daddy, go!" with a woof, tony took off at a run, morgan holding tight to his fur as she giggled, and pepper smiled as she watched them.  tony hated going through a transformation during the full moon, the pain of it pretty extreme, but they'd found a lot of ways to make up for it.

@psychiccatpanda - Tony had avoided Barnes since Steve had brought him to the compound.  The werewolf had done the same.  Howard hadn't had anything good to say about weres in general, but everyone knew wolves were the worst.  It was part of the reason that part of the Avengers had been politely asked to leave Wakanda.  Opening the door to his patio, Tony caught the shine of eyes and Barnes scrambled back from what he'd been doing.  Tony scanned the patio and only saw a trowel, some loose dirt, and a flat of plants - wolfsbane. "Doesn't that stuff give you blisters or something?" Tony asked, knowing that it was probably true.  "How about you come in and wash your hands and tell me what you're up to."

@darthbloodorange - (Ults Stony) - After Steve is infected with Lycanthropy, Tony took him to one of his parents' houses out in the country. Everyone expected Steve would get over it, given time, as he did with the vampirism. But the lycanthropy sticks, appearing to have fused with the serum. While SHIELD's scientists look into a cure, Tony stays with Steve. Growing bored of the overly-manicured, emptiness that was the green fields surrounding the country house, Steve takes up gardening as his current mission. Tony watches, completely enthralled, as Steve slowly transforms the area around the house.

letter, basket, book - suggested by @rebelmeg

@jamesbuckystark - Someone left a basket on Tony's doorstep containing a book, a map, and a magnifying glass. Inside the book was a letter dated 1942. He's curious to find out what this means

@tehroserose - Morgan put down the letter. It was the last one. Her father had written her one for every birthday and potential special occasion. This one was for when she became a mother. She couldn't have them hidden away, they were on a basket on her dresser in her room, but that didn't make them any less bittersweet. He left her behind. To save the world, but he had left her. 

 She went to sit in the rocking chair next to her child's crib and began to read the children's story her mother had allowed all those years ago. "Iron Man and the End of Thanos". Any children she had would know their grandfather.

@somesortofitalianroast - When Bucky decided to become a librarian, he thought it would give him access to all the books all the time, in exchange for maybe some shelving. He didn’t realize how much work went into collections development and management, nor how much time was spent looking books up for patrons on their own system when asked if the library had a particular book. Boring and frustrating. He just had to stick it out until he paid off the worst of his student loans. Until the day the letter arrived on his desk, sitting next to a gift basket from a local fancy food store. A letter letting him know that the gift basket was from his secret admirer.

@jacarandabanyan - After waking from the ice, Steve took to reading voraciously to catch up on what he'd missed. Despite Tony's offers, he never did come around to a screen reader, though, and instead opted to keep a pile of books on his bedside table. When the pile of books got too big, he had a whicker basket to put the overflow in. 

 Tony feels like the two of them can't have a conversation outside the heat of battle without devolving into arguments and personal attacks, so he takes to slipping notes into Steve's books. Over time, the notes get longer and longer, until it would be more proper to call them letters than notes.

@rebelmeg - tiny!tony is digging through a basket of new books the jarvises got him, a mix of kids books and textbooks and novels.  as he digs, one of the books falls open, and out falls an envelope.  the letter inside seems to be written in code... but he's also pretty sure that's his mama's handwriting.  a grin spreading across his face, he sits down next to the basket and starts working out the code.

@darthbloodorange - (Stucky? Witch/Fantasy AU?) - Steve sits in his chair by the window and opens his favourite book. With careful hands, he pulls out the letter from his mother, which he'd been using as a bookmark, and carries on where he'd left off. Library, his familiar, jumps from her basket into his lap and curls up, butting her head against his hands. Despite the warmth and happiness he felt here, it wasn't complete. A part will always be missing until Bucky returns.

@psychiccatpanda - Whoever had suggested they stay at this rickety, 'quaint' seaside hotel had apparently never seen any island murder movies ever, Tony thought with disgust.  The wood floors creaked and the building made weird noises at night.  Combined with the crashing waves, it was not what Tony called relaxing.  Somebody knocked and Tony assumed it was the room service snack he'd ordered.  Instead, he found a basket with a book tucked inside.  Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None.

"That's not ominous," Tony muttered to himself, flipping through the pages. Then he saw the letter tucked inside.

#tonystarkbingoflash2021 #tsbflash2021 #tsb discord party #3 prompt summaries #party game

[squarefriend]

Alrighty how about 14 with Mettaton and 9 with Toriel?

This is a long ass post, so buckle up buttercups >:)

So, if you really think about it, Mettaton IS a robot now. He fused with his body, considering he can die in Stabby Stabby/Nuetral routes. Robots can’t absorb alcohol, therefore they can’t get drunk.

Now, the argument could be made that he just absorbs the magic that makes up the drink then sends it to his power core, like an organic body. The that funky drunky flow intoxicates him.... But that also contradicts my personal head cannons on how Metta’s body works.

I’ll make this brief (if that’s possible in a post of this length lMAO), but how I think that MTT gets his power is either through electricity or, in a worst case scenario, gasoline mixed with magic. While I believe he can eat and drink monster food, it’s stored in an internal compartment before being broken down into manageable magic chunks over a series of several days. So, alcoholic beverages would give him at most a buzz over the course of like a couple of days.

That being said, there’s hope!!!

Remember when I said that I headcannon Metta runs on gasoline if he can’t get any electricity? Well, the means he can switch between which tank he’s drawing from. And, there is a type of gasoline made with a base of Ethanol! Which is the compound used to make drinks alcoholic! Therefore, the alcohol would be going to his core at the rate needed to actually get drunk.

Which means, if he wants to be drunk he can just switch into gasoline mode and slip into whatever tipsy needs he has! As long as he’s filled up on ethanol!

Now I’m not saying that this was found out by complete accident with Alphys testing out a new fuel type but.....

That’s exactly what I’m saying.

But!!! Yall didn’t come here to hear about Mettaton’s autonomy, so let’s talk about his drunken habits!!

I like to think he doesn’t drink often, mostly because of the aforementioned not actually realizing he could till he was on the surface. But, some of the best examples of how he is in a drunken state would probably be back when he was a ghost.

It was probably some rough times back then. Shyren’s sister had just fallen down, and it’s inplied the cousins are rather close with the family. Add in a healthy dose of dysphoria and yearning for a greater audience- no, purpose... It must’ve been rough for Metta.

Mabey to cope, the cousins invested in some ghost ale?

I like to think when buzzed, Mettaton is just a (somehow) more confident and showy version of himself. Just with less motor control and a higher chance of making impulsive decisions.

Once we pass into drunk territory... things start getting more emotional. There will be tears. Probably a lot of them. He’s very emotional and can and will state his mind. Heartfelt confessions might happen, rivalries may happen, or he may just tell you what you already know.

If the cousins cracked open a cold one.... Well.... That may of been the first indications (aside from behavior they’d picked up but not said anything about) of what was really on Metta’s mind. About how desperate he was.

Metta didn’t remember it in the morning. Blookie never told him what they talked about. It was never spoken of again.

Ok!! On a slightly higher note: Toriel!

I’ve always seen Toriel as having a very smooth sounding, mezzo soprano voice. It’s nothing remarkable. She doesn’t belt often, she doesn’t have much of a verbrato, she just sounds like your normal 50ish woman who sings abit too much in the car. But, her voice is warm and soft and perfect to fall asleep too, especially when a smile gets in the way of her vowels.

She sings fairly often, probably the most in the main cast (aside Mettaton and MABEY Papyrus). Be it in the car, or when she has too much to drink, or when singing a lullaby to her kids.

I’ll start with lullabies since I believe they’d be the most personal to her.

We don’t know exactly when the monster human war happened, but I’m of the belief that it happened sometime in the Middle Ages, which would place Toriel’s childhood in medieval times. While she wasn’t born there, I also think both Toriel and Asgore’s families hail from Ireland. Her mother would sing to her every night, sometimes mixing in ancient tales of wild beasts and faeries.

It’s a sentiment she’s passed down to her own children.

Albeit, she changed a few lyrics or scenes in the stories to make them less terrifying, besides when she was caring for some of the older souls. There may also be a touch more happy endings than there were in the older days, and mabey a couple more injuries instead of deaths. But for the most part, they stay the same.

The pieces she dare not change though, are the ones she sings in Gaelic.

Frisk hasn’t learned the language (yet), so Toriel finds no need to change any details to such relics. Plus, they have a lot more of an emotional connection than most of her other songs or stories. Her eldest two children were incredibly fond of them

(Also the song I used for these doodles is called Bó na leath-adhairce (One Horned Cow). The woman who sings it (Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh) sounds a lot like how I imagine Toriel sounding. But like. With a lot more vocal training. She still sounds like she’s singing through a smile and I love it)

On a much more fun note, let’s talk about Toriel’s drinking songs!

So, this doesn’t happen often, but if the moods right and Toriel’s had JUST enough to drink.... She might attempt to start up a drinking song with whatever crowd she’s got around her. She doesn’t know many songs, and she only half remembers the rest, but goddamn it if she’s not gonna try it.

It’s awful. Any recognizable lyrics are either slurred, butchered, or in a language no one else can understand.

But she looks like she’s having so much fun, no one ever tries to stop her.

Hell, some people might even join in, if there’s been enough to drink in the house. If that happens, and if she’s feeling confident enough, Tori might even get up and dance a little bit, dragging whomever she pleases in as well. If she’s drunk enough to start singing like this in public, then she’s definitely drunk enough to do some dances.

Mostly though, she just sticks to lullabies.

As for the second part of this prompt, it’s a lot simpler than all of the rest of this post. Toriel enjoys most music, especially the choral verity. She’ll let anything on the radio, so long as it’s appropriate when Frisk’s in the car.

Her favorite genres though, are Classical, Folk, and Celtic. They were the styles she grew up with and remains fond of to this day. They bring back a feeling of Nostalgia without too many memories, just how she likes it. She also quite enjoys Operas, and plans on taking Frisk to see one once she gets the hang of the internet.

She used to adore ballroom music and waltzes but....

Now they just bring back Memories she’d rather not have.

#Undertale #Mettaton #Toriel #Sorry this took so long #It deleted and I had to retype the entire thing lMAO #Also these challenges and analysis are making me grow even more of a fasination with mechanics #First it was trying to figure out how the ruins puzzles functioned #Now it’s MTTs autonomy #Y’all are gonna make me become an engineer instead of a biologist #Anyway #you can rip the head cannon that Toriel (and Asgore) speaks Irish Gaelic from my cold dead hands #askbox