#Strange Family Au

[megarax-ponyo]

He's just defending his loved ones...

Ignore the ketchup in his mouth, he just wants to intimidate ;P

#my artwrok #invader zim #invader zim au #fan art #my art #meganixart #iz #invasor zim #gir iz #iz gir #strange family au

[shriika]

Lilich sister portrait

#part of my bold AU where the kains actually hang up family portraits and not strange art they think is cool #aglaya lilich #nina kaina #pathologic #мор утопия #guests to the crucible would probably assume this is a mother daughter portrait... #except if it actually was nina and maria victor would have had that shit blown up to 200cm and framed in gold. trust. #u can tell i gave up on the second one but its like. for scale mostly shhhh #shriikadraws

[robertdowneyjjr]

a soulmates au where your words only show up after you’ve met your soulmate. sort of like an insurance policy, you know, so you’re not left wondering whether every other person you meet is the one if your words are too generic.

in this universe, captain america has been recovered and active for several years now. he runs missions and saves the world with his ragtag team of superheroes formed by SHIELD. steve's become a celebrity, which he doesn't love, but it's something he learns to live with because that's life for public figures in the 21st century.

tony never became iron man because he walked away from his father's legacy the second he turned 18. he and howard are still working on their relationship, but maria couldn't be prouder and tells tony so everyday. he built his own company from the ground up and it's thriving under his leadership. he's only marginally famous these days and he tries his best to stay out of the limelight, guarding his private life as much as possible. that's how it's been for twenty years and he's happy.

they meet on a day when steve is tired, irritable and angry. he's just returned from a mission where two of his teammates were injured because of the faulty information they received. he goes out on a walk to let off some steam and he's just slipping his phone back into his pocket after rejecting fury's fifth call for a debrief when he slams right into tony.

tony was having a good day. he'd just sent out a new set of designs and decided to reward himself for it. he goes and gets himself a fresh, delicious, life-affirming cup of coffee and is just stepping out of the cafe with aforementioned cup when a walking brick wall comes out of nowhere.

good news is, tony had ordered a cold brew. once every few weeks that's just what he's in the mood for and it had been one of those days. bad news is, instead of drinking it he is now wearing it.

sticky and cold and more than a little shocked, tony barely has time to recover and figure out what happened when steve starts tearing into him.

“god damn it, watch where the fuck you’re going! that could have spilled all over me! idiot!” steve yells at tony. and on a normal day, he’d be apologetic and he’d never curse like this at a stranger. but he really didn’t need yet another thing to go wrong today and he’s on a short fuse.

maybe later, when he’s calmed down, he’ll think back on the cute man with the giant brown eyes staring at him in disbelief and start beating himself up over how he behaved.

at the moment, all tony can do is look at steve’s pristine white t-shirt that somehow has not a single drop of coffee on it, then look back down at his own chest. he has no words except, “wow. you’re a fucking asshole.” and he just turns around and walks away.

tony gets home and strips off for a rinse before he gets ready for his flight to london for a week of meetings. all the while he can’t help but think that angry blond man looked vaguely familiar and he can’t place where he knows him from. he doesn’t notice the new string of words tattooed down the side of his thigh until he’s in his hotel room half a day later.

meanwhile, steve gets home after his walk, after he’s checked on his teammates, after sitting with fury for three long hours to debrief, and finally washes the day off of him. before he gets into the shower, he notices something different about his reflection.

along his left bicep are the words, wow. you’re a fucking asshole.

he thinks back on the cute man with the big brown eyes and a chest full of coffee and wonders how in the hell he can fix this mess.

#maybe he uses his clout as a celebrity and makes a cryptic post on social media #with a picture of a coffee cup and a request for a second chance #and signs it off with ‘a fucking asshole’ #maybe tony sees it and realizes his soulmate is captain america #the man his dad wouldn’t shut up about #and holy crap wouldn’t that be a strange conversation to have with his dad next time he’s home for dinner #even funnier maybe maria sees the post and sends it to the family group chat and she’s like ‘howard this is your friend?’ #and that’s how tony finds out #or maybe steve goes whining to howard one day and happens to run into tony when he’s home visiting #so many possibilities #stevetony #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #stonyclunks soulmates au #kay writes things

[megamindsupremacy]

Stewjon is Space Scotland: Names and Naming Conventions

For context, I designed an entire naming system for my Stewjon is Space Scotland AU. I'm still trying to work out the cultural logistics of it, but the actual practical logistics I have down.

To break everything down:

Stewjon is a clan-centric society, with clans and clan names having a hugely important role in the culture. I therefore had clan names feature in both the first and last name of Stewjonis.

-The last name (Kenobi) is the family/clan name, and is passed down the family paternally. This is both because I'm from a western culture with a paternal naming tradition, and also because I liked how his parents names sounded when the last names transferred paternally but not maternally. "Ken" would translate to "Clan" (I don't know if this is accurate to Scots English or Scots Gaelic, but I'm working from canon Star Wars names and trying to worldbuild from nothing so work with me here), and then the clan name "Obi" is attached, so "Kenobi" translates to "Clan Obi" or "of Clan Obi"

-The given name (-Wan, but we'll get to "Wan" in a second) is one to two syllables. All of these names are (according to Wikipedia) actual Scottish names, which I picked from the list mostly based on how well they'd sound next to the clan name.

-The prefix clan name (Obi-) is the interesting part. All children are given the father's clan name as both their first and last clan name. Therefore, Obi-Wan Kenobi, son of Ito-Benneit Kenobi, has "Obi" in both his first and last name. However, upon marriage, the couple swaps their prefix clan names to signify the tie between their clans. Therefore his mother Ito-Ceit Kenito and his father Obi-Benneit Kenobi became Obi-Ceit Kenito and Ito-Benneit Kenobi upon their marriage.

-Originally I was going to do something with the fact that "Obi" means belt in Japanese, such as making the clan names signify professions in the same way "Miller" or "Smith" would in English surnames, but I gave up because Japanese is so different of a language from what I understand that I would have just made myself very confused and everyone who understands Japanese language and culture very mad. So I just went with a vowel-consonant-vowel pattern for all the clan names and called it a day.

-Remember how I said we would come back to "Wan"? Obi-Wan wasn't born Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was born Obi-Owen (Owen is a whole 'nother thing and I decided to just give myself a freebie on it), and his name was anglicized (basic-icized?) upon being brought to the Jedi temple. Not on purpose, but it did happen. So technically the chart above should have him listed as Obi-Owen Kenobi, but I already took the screenshot so this is what we're working with.

-Culturally, it's respectful to refer to someone by their full name (Obi-Owen Kenobi). The full name stands until two people are fairly close to each other, platonically or romantically. The informal, friendly version would be their full first name (Obi-Owen). So you wouldn't call your new friend "Obi-Owen" until you're quite close, even if you're social equals. Technically you could refer to someone by their given name only (Owen), but it's awkward and Stewjonis don't really see a reason for it. All of this highlights the cultural emphasis placed on clans and clan ties in Stewjoni society.

The Family Tree

THE KIDS

Starting from the bottom, we have the four Kenobi siblings. Obi-Conn is the oldest, and he marries Yana-Eóin Kenyana, becoming Yana-Conn Kenobi. None of this happens in the story but I wrote it in the chart anyways. Obi-Eóin is nonbinary, which is why their square is white instead of blue or pink.

Obi-Mór and Obi-Pál are twins and approximately four years younger than Yana-Conn. Obi-Mór is ambiguously disabled (she has some form of muscular disability, but the specifics weren't relevant to the story). Obi-Pál is just some guy and I love him for that.

Obi-Owen is the baby of the family. He's twelve years younger than the twins (16 years younger than Yana-Conn) and was definitely an oopsie-baby. I don't need to say anything else because he is also one of the major characters of the Star Wars franchise. You know him.

THE PARENTS

Obi-Ceit Kenito and Ito-Benneit Kenobi are the Kenobi siblings' parents. I don't have much to say here other than that Ito-Benneit shortens his name to Ito-Ben, to avoid the repeated "eet" sound in his full first name. I'm sure that doesn't affect Obi-Owen's future nicknames in any way!

It is Ito-Benneit fault, by the way, that I made clan prefixes instead of surnames to be switched upon marriage. Culturally, it would have made more sense for the more commonly used first name to hold your birth clan and your less commonly used surname to indicate your linked-by-marriage clan, but I needed Obi-Benneit to marry into the name Ito-Benneit so that I could shorten it to Ben. Goddammit.

THE GRANDPARENTS

Ito-Ben's parents are entirely irrelevant so they don't exist. Sad!

Technically I didn't have to name Ito-Lili Kenuna, but I felt bad having her up there as an unnamed person. Una-Owen Kenito, as you may suspect, is where Obi-Wan's name comes from. I really wanted to highlight his Stewjoni heritage in this fic, so giving him family ties through his whole name was important to me. Obi-Ceit names Obi-Owen for her father because Una-Owen was a strong fighter, and she wants to pass that resilience to her son. Which, uh. Well he sure is resilient to things trying to kill him!

Feel free to come yell at me in the askbox about Stewjon's worldbuilding!

#mads posts #stewjon is space scotland AU #star wars #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #stewjon #i have without a doubt spent more time researching for this fic than i have writing it #but honestly thats where im having the most fun #hey can you tell i took a cultural anthropology class last semester and there was a unit in family + naming conventions? #can you tell im taking a linguistics class this semester? #i dont think its obvious. it's probably really super subtle and sprinkled lightly throughout the post right #right? guys? right? #this fic started out as an excuse to write about textiles and its turned into a scots gaelic linguistic deep dive <- this user is autistic #something else about the naming system that I didnt get into the post is that it reinforces a hetero+allonormative society #because marriage is hugely important to naming practices and clan names are based on the father's clan #which presupposes there even being a father in the marriage #or even a marriage #I dont know what yana-conn and Obi-eóin will do with their kids. theyre part of the younger generation and obi-eóin is being nb is a very #strange concept for many of the older generations #given that this is star wars and xenobiology exists i dont think there would be a huge backlash #but stewjon is a human-centric society so they're not as used to non-binary *human* genders #aliens? sure. humans? uhhhh we didnt know you could do that. weird. #obi-eóin's name is never even fucking mentioned in the fic btw im just going insane over here with worldbuilding #long post

[multicolour-ink]

How about a Mario x Wolf Children AU

PREMISE contains spoilers for the movie Wolf Children

* * *

- Mia is a young woman from Brooklyn who falls in love with Pio. After some dates, Pio reveals that he belongs to a group of beings that have the power to transform into wolves (not a werewolf!).

- Mia doesn't let this faze her and the two get into a relationship and marry...

- Some time later Mia gives birth to twins, Mario and Luigi, who also inherit their father's wolf changing ability.

- Urged on by his wolf instincts to provide for his new offspring and his mate, Pio goes out hunting, but Mia later finds him dead from an accident.

- Heartbroken, Mia resolves to raise the children in the best way possible. This proves to be a challenge, as the city is no place for wild, half-wolf children.

- After too many complaints and suspicious looks, Mia decides the only way is to find a place where the children can grow up safely. She remembers Pio telling her about his homeland, far out in the countryside near the mountains, and is determined to get them there. She is aware that Pio's family live there - his father and his brother's - but she has never had the chance to meet them due to the dangers involved. Nevertheless, Mia figures that even if they don't accept her, she prays that they will still spare her children.

- She locates the area, and upon arriving takes up residence in a run down house. The locals eye her and her children, but Mia is determined to keep them safe. While the boys run wild and free, she looks into finding out where Pio's family are living.

- It turns out that they live somewhere up the mountains, dwelling out of sight from the village. Upon taking the trek up there with the boys, Mia is terrified, as an old man and two younger men aproach her...

- It doesn't take long for her to realise who they are, and to her surprise, they are welcoming. They take note of the children, and explain that they knew on sight and scent that they are Pio's.

- "I'm so sorry for your loss", Pa says. "The grief hurts just as much for us as it does for you. But I know he has picked a strong partner to raise her boys."

- After introductions, Pa sits with Mia in their desolate home, and explains to her that her boys are special. Unlike other wolf-humans of their kind, they are connected to both the spirit of nature, and the human world.

- But raising and living as a wolf-child is not easy - for Pa explains - as the boys grow, they must learn to choose their own paths in life.

- This proves to be true. For as the boys grow older, Mario starts to get along more with the villagers and the human side. While Luigi starts to favour the natural world....

#so yeah that's it #I admit that it does drift away a bit from the source material #especially with the family part #as in the original movie the mother doesn’t have anyone ;_; #but i still wanted to explain where Pio's family is and have them involved somehow #while also sticking to the theme of mia (like hana) being introduced into this strange world she doesn't know through her children #super mario #super mario au #mario au #wolf children #wolf children ame and yuki #mario #luigi #the super mario bros movie #super mario movie #mario movie #mia mario #mama mario #pio mario #papa mario

[blankdblank]

Poke Ch 39, managed to piece it together and get it edited and up finally. Come take a peek here.

Poke Masterlist (Rewrite)

Would really love to hear what you guys think and especially about the question in the notes at the end if you wouldn't mind. :)

#Eddie brock #Venom #found family #Superman #Christopher Reeve #Dr Strange #Christine palmer #Loki #Loki x oc #soul mates au #Svartalfheim #Heimdall #surgery on Superman #Kryptonite #Marvel

[the-redhead-in-a-dress]

20 Headcanons I have about Chris/Una/La’an as a family in an Earth AU

Chris is Girl!Dad

Una is Mommy

La’an is baby girl

1. La’an still loses her family and Una still rescues her, but Una begs Chris for them to adopt her and he agrees in an instant.

2. That first night they put La’an to bed together. Una wakes up in the night in a panic. Something feels wrong #MomInstincts. She goes to check on La’an and she’s silently crying and terrified in the corner of the room, but making no sound. Una picks her up, wipes her tears and cuddles her. Takes La’an back to her and Chris’ bed.

3. Toddler!La’an likes to spread Eagle across the bed. Una and Chris often wake up in the middle of the night to a little fist or leg in their face. Without a word to Una, Chris gets them a bigger bed.

4. Toddler/Young girl La’an is a thumb sucker

5. Chris gets addicted to Kids TV, he has lots of thoughts on Bluey, Peppa and Dora. Una is confused. La’an finds those shows boring but watches them anyway because it makes her Daddy happy.

6. All throughout elementary school La’an goes to school with immaculately braided hair. This gets the attention of the other school Moms, and soon Una has an unofficial role at birthday parties to make sure everybody has ‘princess hair’

7. When Una is on a work trip or otherwise unavailable Chris braids La’an’s hair. He’s pretty decent.

8. Una gets jealous when the other school moms flirt with Chris. Chris makes it up to her when they’re alone.

9. When La’an gets bullied for her being a Noonien-Singh Una sees red and definitely threatens the principle, Chris uses his dimples to smooth things over.

10. Chris as stay at home dad(?) making pancakes for breakfast every morning.

11. When La’an is sick Chris makes her the best home-made soup and they sit on the couch and La’an cuddles in Chris’ lap.

12. Chris is the most excited of the three to go to Disneyland. He begged Una for months for them all to go visit.

13. He carries La’an on his shoulders and points out all of the Disney Princesses correctly for La’an to see.

14. Chris most definitely wears Minnie Mouse ears, the entire time. Una has to remind him to take them off when he goes to shower.

15. He also ends up on the DilfsofDisneyland Instagram page (this is a real thing)

16. La’an makes Chris this absolutely hideous T-shirt at school that says “Galaxy’s best Dad” but he loves it and wears it absolutely everywhere for a week…until Una conveniently shrinks it in the wash. They stick it on a teddy bear instead.

17. Teenage La’an and Chris share a bond of watching sports games together on the couch. Una doesn’t understand.

18. Chris AND Una both coach La’an’s sports team.

19. La’an and Una head butt a lot in La’an’s teenage years. Chris looks on in fond amusement over how similar the two are.

20. Chris and Una dropping La’an off at college/the academy. Both Una and Chris cry…a lot, and La’an tells them not to be so dramatic. “But you’re our baby girl!” Replies both Chris and Una through the tears. La’an rolls her eyes but lets them hug her tightly anyway.

#laan noonien singh #una chin riley #Chris pike #adopted family #pikeone #pikeuna #chris pike/number one #ST SNW #star trek snw #star trek strange new worlds #Earth AU #Chris is definitely a girl dad #Una is mommy #La’an is baby girl #I think about this trio as a family far too much

[jackiequick]

Royalty AU - The Regency Era 💎

-> The Return Of An Old Set Of Posts (cuz I’m celebrating 3000 posts on Tumblr!) Check it out 📱

— @msrochelleromanofffelton inspired idea by Bridgerton

— Maiden Amelia Parker 🧹

Sweet and Sassy. Sometimes This girl got a serious eye roll

Works for The Feltons 💅🏽

Lady In Waiting (makes sure everyone is dressed up, brings in letters to her bosses and on time for events etc.)

Usually found wondering the areas to making sure things are alright, doesn’t like to hear the gossip around the halls from the family

— Sir Tyler Sharp 🧲

Nice, a bit of chatterbox, always tries to be serious and kinda silly

Works for The Marsh’s 🌸

A little timid a times but rather a bit of a charmer. He loves hearing the gossip with the the people of the court.

Makes sure the stables are fine, bringing in meals, standing behind holding umbrellas, and hanging out with the help

— Sir Jason Underwood 🛠

Always annoyed with everyone but rather sweet depending upon the person.

Works for The Strange’s 🪄

You can find him always reading a book, sending out letters to subjects, throwing out a few glares to the help and rather nice.

You can picture Afield Pennyworth but blonde, snapping at everybody to do their jobs lol

— Lady Stephanie Foster 📖

Darling, such a sweetheart and a bit of a caring maid

Works for House Stark’s 💰

She will spill secrets and hand over every newspapers with gossip around the land

A maid always trying to have a little bit of fun with the help. Hosting tea parties with the other maids & masters, has a shoulder to cry on, trying out the chefs latest treats and etc.

— Lady Sabrina Wilson 🍰

Darling, caring, respectful and a maiden with a soft smile

Work for The Lehnsherr’s 🛡as her big brother is a knight of the land.

Spends her time holding the peoples swords and weapons, having them sharpened and cleaned to perfection.

Doesn’t care for games and gossip, unless needed. Holding items for her lords and ladies, whenever called for. However she spends her time with the chef of the house

————

The Upperclassman Folk 💠

— Princess Estella Strange 👑

The runaway princess, rather not be dressed in a gown but out in the stables and walking the land.

She tends to be seen in the main hall trying to jewelry, making sure the guards know what needs to be done and questioning everyone.

Sweet, charming with a soft smile on her face, clever and gentle with most.

She tends to be very helpful and always tries to see the other person’s perspective.

As her brother rules, she’s in her corner of the palace reading and writing, setting up events for others in the land to attend, and getting fitted for certain items of clothing.

— Lady Alexandra ‘Lexi’ Banner 🍏

One wouldn’t think she’s upper class like her brother and nephew due to the way she acts and dresses, but she is.

Always told to say quiet, sit straight, talk when needed and act pretty like she’s romanized by the lifestyle.

Carries around a small pet, like a dog per say, since she’s found nearby the gardens.

She tends to have a bit of a temper, getting twitchy at times and playing quietly with her nails, listening to other people speak.

Not interested in falling into any man’s arms that walked past her. Mostly because she’s unseen by most at parties, so the girl will find herself nearby the treats table.

—-

Please keep the chain going: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @drspencereidhotch @meiramel @blueboirick @mandylove1000 @levijeanqueen @morgan108 @sherloquestea @superspookyjanelle @ohgodnotagainn

#bridgerton #oc aus #oc stuff #duke and duchess of cambridge #emily bett rickards #grant gustin #danielle campbell #candice patton #ella enchanted #anne hathaway #eiza gonzález reyna #eiza gonzalez #bruce banner #doctor strange #peter parker #glen powell #spanish royal family #red white and royal blue #royalcore #royalty #fantasy au

[desognthinking]

WIP... Wednesday

Tagged by @willowedhepatica  (thanks!) I'm so sorry that this comes so late 😭 life got in the way. Not sure who i can tag who has things in the works they can share, but please Please know if anyone has any snippets or sneak peaks I would love to see them and yell about them with you pleaseee

Not strictly a WIP but here’s just under 3.5k of an oldish experimental AU inspired by this post :’) in this one they’re… *checks notes*, ah, hmm. Chimerical tomb guardians carved from stone.   

-----

It’s a wickedly stormy day when a procession scores up the hill through beating rain and blowing dust, but there’s no time to waste. The wedding will not wait, and on its occasion, as a symbol of the new ties between the families of the bride and the groom, there is a terrible, beautiful new guardian grotesque to be received by the Silva tombhouse from the Salviuses. 

It is surely mounted on the property sometime during the silver-black onslaught of sky upon earth, but Beatrice cannot clearly see it through the rain and the  maze of trees that still separates the Silvas from their neighbors. The families on this hill are not quite rich enough to expand at the pace of the wealthiest among them, who slice and raze to add to their already broad campuses of tombs. Instead, in this part of town, modest, often unmatching clusters dwell amongst the wildflowers and long-lived trees sprayed across the land. 

Beatrice likes the nature. Her perch is kept cool by the damp and dewy mornings, birdsong flickering from above and around. In the filtered haze of heat and light there is some measure of peace too – here, there is less to fight over, and fewer lines of tension between the families. Hidden by farther slopes, there are fewer threats from beyond. And, overshadowed by the lower circuit of large gated tombhouses, there are far milder spoils for aspiring robbers. 

It’s from one of these large inner-city tombhouses that the new stone protector is said to arrive. The Salviuses have money spilling out their hands and down their wrists. It’s said, it’s said, it’s said – it’s whispered in the wind that carries the falling leaves from vine to vane, so easy for Beatrice to stretch up and put an ear to. The pollen clouds dispersed over grass in shapes spelling disruption  and newcomer. It’s gossiped over pages in the library, first with smug nods and just you wait and see, dear, we’re never wrong from the grandfathers and grandmothers as Beatrice pores through the volumes in the upper shelves, precious books pressed so high and so far back that they’re backed into both wall and ceiling. 

Then, inevitably, it carries through the air in the giggles and hushed gasps of the living members of this family, hands curling over yarn and needle as the youngest children breathlessly run and hide behind the walls and in the shadowy pockets of the tombhouse. The Great-great-great Grandmother who had been the first to break the news is mollified by the confirmation, and generously refuses to gloat.

A Silva girl is marrying a Salvius boy, and the Salviuses are pledging a guardian – the spirits know they have too many anyway, but still, a Salvius guardian – to this hill. 

“You’ve got to go over and see what’s going on,” Beatrice is instructed one morning, in no uncertain terms. They’re going over integration by partial fractions on the little platform at the back that looks down over the mills: her, Great-Grandfather, and Lilith, who’s slunk over yet again from the Villaumbrosias’ for some ‘peace and quiet’, and also because Beatrice’s family likes her for some mysterious reason. They pretend it’s because they need the extra pair – or, well, pairs, in Lilith’s case – of eyes. The massive, foreboding, Villaumbrosia affair the next hill over already boasts so many fearsome hands on deck, and they only have one Beatrice. 

Great-grandfather is gentle and teasing about it; Beatrice (and Lilith, although she will never admit it) is his favorite captive audience. 

Of course, it’s easy to treat her as one of their own on mornings like this — quiet summer days when she’s stripped of silica and scale, descended from her weatherworn perch. Devoid of the coarse matter of rock and metal twisted into hungry, flame-spitting fangs, and instead merely a soft-spoken spirit in a youthful skin. When the great grandfathers and mothers and their grandfathers and grandmothers look at her and see dark, almost-human eyes and loosely-bound hair in a bun above her shoulders.  

And when Beatrice walks Lilith out and across the rocky way that leads home, it’s easy for them to wave the two of them off. After all, Lilith is just a young woman with black waves she tucks carefully behind her ears and a handsome, slanting jaw that could almost pass as being real; as being pressed and molded with muscle and mandible and a fragile, mycelial network of vasculature and nerves. Not another delicate illusion that would slip and shatter at the first sign of danger, revealing in a flash the grotesque ugliness within.

There hasn’t been an attack in a while. When there hasn’t been an attack in a while Beatrice thinks the family tends to forget where exactly they hold court.

(Here, cradled close enough within these hills to walk back to where home once was. Children’s handprints on the threshold, coal scribbles on the floor. Walls still perfused with the fragrance and vapor of hot homemade stew.)

This is a graveyard. This is a necropolis, a city of the dead. It slithers amongst the roots of the living but does not make a home of it. In its palm lies the fragile in-between, the sickly sweet intersection where the living and the after-dead mingle like the meeting of two clouds. Within its grounds the family is wont to forget the ruthlessness that’s sometimes needed to keep it in balance.

Once they depart, Beatrice and Lilith’s guises fall away. Invisible to a still-beating heart, two terrible chimeras gouge skid-marks through the dirt to get to the Villaumbrosia citadel before its guests arrive at ten-thirty. Miraculously, only twice during the entire trip does Lilith half-heartedly threaten to snap Beatrice’s tail off. 

They make it there just in time. Beatrice watches as Lilith sweeps her way up the manicured moss columns and melds, in a quick thrash, with the magnificent dark-gray creature of stone that lunges out from the south turret. Frozen like this: mouth curled in a snarl and sharp wings flung out – in mockery, in bombast, in warning; Lilith at her most vindictive and most frightening, the elaborate Villaumbrosia insignia branded hot and painful down her side.

Beatrice knows it hurts, of course. Perhaps less so like this but certainly in the flesh, where it is always red and raw like the day it was carved down Lilith’s ribs in the workshop. Preserved unchanging in the meat as it is preserved forever in the rock. Lilith winces, when she thinks the others aren’t looking, but Beatrice knows. Camila might say something – probably does say something, but Beatrice doesn’t. She understands too well, and after all, what can they do?

After all, this is their work. This is life: whatever is asked of them. For Lilith today, it is to be a showpiece for guests at a bloated, overwrought tea ceremony. Broadly, it is watchman, and protector, and advocate. And at times like these, when there is a stir in the tangled ecosystem of bloodlines and their guardian-creatures, Beatrice is called upon to be an ambassador. 

So, the day after the storm, Beatrice leaves her perch to seek out the Silvas. She glides down from the still-slippery stone, and lands softly on the wet earth, scale meeting fur meeting soil and humid air. 

In her hands – her metaphorical hands – she clasps fistfuls of string that stretch, infinitely thin, to every corner of her tombhouse. She flexes each one and puts it between her teeth as she steps over the threshold and into the trees, testing their elasticity and tensile strength. If there is to be a twang, however minute, she must feel it. There is only one of her at home.

As she approaches the Silva tombhouse the air around her shifts and seems to solidify into a medium both probing and warning. Beatrice stills, allowing the woods to see her and course through her calmness. They know her, of course, and she waits for them to pass on the message to the newest guardian, still incredibly sensitive to the prickle of unfamiliar movement and sound. 

Presently, physically, the world exhales. 

Beatrice cautiously continues forward, until the treeline peels away to reveal the Silva tombhouse.

Tombhouse, as it goes, is a misnomer – a tombhouse is a complex rather than a single shell. It is no single cell for a coffin, but a collection of connected mausoleums and courtyards and passageways and corners and gates, lifted high and tunneled low. And as befitting a clan of esteemed craftsmen, the Silva tombhouse is a harmonious set spiraling outwards in organic whorls. Its walls are scraped clean and brushed beige, curled and leafed and folded in at the edges. Delicate and pretty in its strength in a way Beatrice’s own plain, stoic little set of residences could never be.

At the top of the central mausoleum, bounded by a parapet, rests a flat platform. On that ledge sits the new grotesque. 

Ink-black stone peeks curiously down at Beatrice. 

Immediately it is clear that she is like nothing Beatrice has ever seen before. Yes, as is tradition she is joined and jawed together piecemeal from various symbolic beasts, but this composition and style is unique. 

She’s simultaneously entirely unlike both the typical statues produced by-the-dozen in the workshops, and the specially commissioned sculptures like Beatrice herself. This guardian is a patchwork of shapes and textures Beatrice has only ever seen in the watercolor sketches of her tombhouse’s own library as belonging to exotic creatures from faraway places. Still other elements escape her recognition and description, and everything meshes deftly at smooth, near-invisible seams. 

Perhaps this isn’t surprising in a Salvius guardian – Jillian’s own commission too, it’s rumored. No less should be expected from someone the alchemists and scientists alike shy away from. Jillian Salvius considers herself a traveler, and a collector, and a dabbler, and Beatrice hears that the spokes of her gates are gnarled and carved in strange patterns from foreign lands.

The guardian shifts and cocks her head curiously, and Beatrice pulls herself together sharply.

“Hi,” the creature says. “You must be the neighbor from the east.”

Beatrice snaps back into polite, exceedingly proper posture. She nods, dipping forward in a movement resembling a bow. It makes the high-perched creature giggle, gauzy like air.

“Good morning,” she replies. “My name is Beatrice, and you’re right. How did you know?”

The guardian doesn’t answer. She separates from her stone in a miasma of color, swoops down noisily, and lands, a little clumsily, on a lower ledge. “Two heads, huh?” she says, thoughtfully. “Kinda perfect for the scholars.”

It’s not said judgmentally; more so with a further curious slant of her head, observational and light. Beatrice feels strange and semisolid all over.

She doesn’t correct the new guardian; tell her that no, she hadn’t actually been crafted or blessed for this bloodline, only gifted to them just one generation ago. And gifted rather carelessly, at that; an obligatory token presented upon the death of the benefactor’s tutor.

Before that her two heads were designed not as a tribute to wisdom or a paean to collaboration, but in order to stare proudly over an excessive estate, stretching out in opposite directions over land too vast for merely one head to behold. An arrogant symbol of not just physical, but political reach. She was a status symbol for powerful people – two-faced might be a better descriptor. 

Beatrice has always considered this with some bitterness, but today, she oddly feels no urge to self-flagellate. She feels, suspiciously, nothing at all; a fuzzy blank.

Instead, in response to the guardian, Beatrice blinks. Both of her heads do. They crane and incline together, like long-necked birds bending to convene. She feels sharp ears on each one twitch and flutter.

The creature laughs again. She descends further to the porch, then approaches Beatrice slowly. “I’m Ava,” she introduces herself, finally. Shyly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ava,” Beatrice repeats, careful and hushed. She parses it over and traces it as though threading a needle – how the strange, simple symmetry of the word, the hypnotic up-down-up of A-V-A,  doesn't begin to encompass the entity approaching her. On cue, Ava does a funny, shuddery motion that cascades down her whole form. 

Beatrice, leaning her heads over old tomes like water jugs tipped over a parched tongue, dreams of fantastical things, from places that often sound even more surreal. And yet before her now stands the most peculiar thing alive yet, that defies everything she’s known and seen. 

Yes, clearer now before her eyes, Ava is a patchwork of impossible parts. 

Up close Beatrice can see she’s also a riverbed of illusory things. Small divots seem to scoop themselves out, sink deep, and then ripple back up into the surface of her body. Bubbling, and collapsing, and reforming, like springs of molten mother-of-pearl. Each little cavity shimmers like roughened gemstones: a gasping, dark blue, like well water under the sun; or a moody green like the light-starved undershade in a storm; or a thawing amber that Beatrice cannot even describe except that it looks like the smell of hot bread with a sweet cream core, tempting and steaming.

“Beatrice,” Ava echoes, her eyes gleaming and dark. They bubble expressively and endlessly deep. Gazing at Beatrice, straight, still and pondering. Searching. 

Silence stretches until it doesn’t. 

Something snaps – a bird on a twig above –  and Ava shakes herself awake. “Where’s my manners!” she exclaims suddenly. “Come on,” she swishes around gamely. Beatrice, bewildered, sneezes. 

She’s learning quickly that when Ava laughs, the dense tassel-like feathers on the back rise in delighted reflex and splay apart. 

The two of them slip between trees into a little glade, buoyed by her relentless charm and a thrumming current of something else, in the undertow.

Once upon a time, this was a courtyard, although now that the Silva tombhouse has unfurled in the opposite direction it’s been allowed to tastefully overgrow into its former self, mossy and scruffy. Old pieces of wall and pillars still cordon off one side; Beatrice resists the temptation to bound about and explore, and instead parks herself primly at a corner, not fidgeting.

Ava has no such compunctions. She wriggles herself into a comfortable position on a large boulder. Her weapon of a tail dangles down and bats at the ground idly, uprooting chunks of grass. 

“How are you finding it here?” Beatrice asks, trying very hard to be normal. 

“Honestly? I don’t know yet,” Ava grins, “and you’re the first one of us I’ve met here.” 

She pauses, cocks her head to one side so strikingly. The gesture almost looks human. “You know, my new folks think very highly of you,” She looks appraisingly over Beatrice with an indecipherable expression.

Beatrice feels quite hot. “Mine are curious about you.”

There is a shift in the air as Ava straightens abruptly. Her tail stills. “What will you tell them?”

Beatrice bites her tongues, undecided. She’d meant to think of it later, to phrase and rephrase and turn the words over and over in her mouth on the way back to get them right. It takes a while, usually, to distill her thoughts precisely into words that balance both insinuation and tone, and half the time it ends up all too stilted and formal anyway. How people seem to be able to do that, off the cuff – it’s confusing. Far easier, Beatrice thinks, to sit quietly beside and let such people do the talking.

Especially now that this seems, somehow, to be important to Ava. And especially now that she finds she doesn’t quite have any of the words.

If Beatrice had hands she would wring them. She thinks, distantly, of what someone else wiser than her might say. “They’ll agree with me that you’re certainly unique,” she starts, and it’s like Shannon’s talking through her, stately and gentle. Bold, like Mary. 

She adds, in an abrupt impulse that’s, alarmingly, all Beatrice, “I do think you’ll fit in well here.”

“Oh,” Ava seems surprised. Her tail, heretofore curled tightly on the boulder, relaxes and turns a loose arc in the air, hacking at the grass. “Thanks,” she looks at Beatrice, and inhales sharply, although not unkindly. 

Pauses. Sheepishly, she adds, “I’ve heard some people, uh, calling me devilish and other things, you see. But you know, it’s fine. Whatever.”

Beatrice grimaces involuntarily, then schools her expression back into an empathetic nod. It’s not unexpected. There’s bound to be a procession of curious gawkers and onlookers filing through to try and catch a glimpse of something hailing from the elusive Salviuses. Beartice knows the type: traditional, gossipy and busybodies.

They’ll take one look up the roof and gasp in disbelief or disgust, probably. Sneer up at the twisted, unnatural proportions, if they’re brave. Ava runs too close to the precipice of their diluted tolerance.

“The Silvas are good people. They’ll stand by you.” Beatrice isn’t sure if it helps, but it’s true. The households here are the little silver lining of this part of town, otherwise ragged and out of the way and a little discordant in its hues.

Ava exhales gently. Beatrice thinks there’s a small smile there. “I know.”

“It doesn’t make it easier.”

“Yeah. I know,” repeats Ava, her eyes shining, and it’s almost like she really does. 

Beatrice understands. They did it to her, too, after all.

The people who commissioned her had made a puppet of her. They had demanded a departure from classical references and therefore affixed to her frame things like startling, swiveling joints and odd angles.  Two heads, of course, among other modifications – all in an arrogant, ambitious drive to defy tradition and create a visionary symbol of fear and envy.  Instead, the lay beholder glanced upon the warped anatomy and thought it blasphemy. And so, Beatrice rapidly became that to her own family too: acrid to the eyes, rotted in the soul, a disembowelment. Failure. An embarrassment. 

The whispers billowed large like cotton sheets drying in the fields, caught and blown out in the wind.

It was a matter of time. Beatrice imagines the tiny family offspring being taught their true oral history in a sugary sick little chant, clapping their chubby hands cheerfully and squealing every grim word, 

Then the old teacher died / and it was a great relief / The family rushed to ready / a token of public grief

Her, of course. Her, and not any of the cruder, more sedate, stone guardians that studded the estate. The small ones who, on a good day, sat patiently and circulated air and respired noisily, and who were not capable of thought or pain. The family had a lot of them lining their walls, not much more than large decorative lumps of dough programmed to trap, waylay, or bite at intruders. 

Instead, they parted ways with the looming, ghastly and elaborate figure that guarded one of their main wings, and painted it as a great outpouring of sadness. Beatrice knew better.

The whole event was swift; almost planned in advance. She’d barely had time to send an urgent warning to Lilith before she was gone – a failed experiment in pomposity that took an unforeseen and regrettable turn into the profane. 

In a matter of days she was transplanted from lush green gardens into dry hills bathed in reedy, half-obscured sunsets. The kind of neighborhood her old family would call avant-garde or ‘forward-thinking’, although with a scoff that betrayed what they really thought.

And at night, looking down to sleeping homes, Beatrice would hear in the nothingness the same whispers splashing down the stone like rain, all over again.

Mindlessly, now, she has the sudden urge to reach out and feel. Fluttering cells or hardened stone, it doesn’t matter. She wants to transmute a hand of tender human pulp and skin, and run fragile fingers softly over the strangest braided foldery and flattening of membrane, bumps and spindles until they catch, pierce and bleed. 

And she so badly wants to tell Ava: I think you’re nightmarish and very beautiful. You would hold an army off this humble hill. like holding out a pathetic little bundle of flowers– but she doesn’t. It’s too long and too much; I’m here. is too short, and both are too naked. She’s not that kind of creature. She’s carved from solid rock and even when she sheds it it still feels like its weight chains her to the earth.

Her voices remain even and steady, somehow. 

“I –This isn’t the customary welcome and introductory visit,” Beatrice confesses, in lieu of it all.

“Oh. It’s not?”

Beatrice shakes her heads. “There’ll need to be a more official one.” 

The overlapping layers of spines along Ava’s limbs rise and then flatten, quickly.  “So I’ll get to see you again soon?” 

Feeling warm, or moist, or something like a pillar of pressurized foam, Beatrice clears her throats. “I suppose so. Yes.”

#“Ard wtf is this AU” 😭 listen. it was a strange and fun little thing/experiment to play around with #YEAH imagine a large town/small city that spills out over the hills in a labyrinthine necropolis of familial mausoleums / tomb complexes #pragmatic bulwarks of defence and important centers of social/intellectual/cultural life and death and the rich after-death #beatrice is the super serious guardian of a respectable but modest bloodline of teachers and scholars #when she's not staring moodily out into the distance she spends like all her free time in the library/underground heirloom chamber #and getting tutorials from fond but vaguely concerned ancestors #They love her unconditionally btw she’s just sometimes in her head too much to see it #the Silvas are renowned artisans! Jillian is jillian lol #If some of the words sound like they don’t exist it’s because they straight up don’t. I’ve no idea what old me was thinking. #hashtag avatrice hashtag meetcute hashtag wrarior nun hashtag mutually obsessed at first sight etc.

[megarax-ponyo]

Proud and hardworking parents

May have difficulties with family or work

But at least they are happy being like this :^]

#invader zim au #traditional drawing #invader zim #my artwrok #dib membrane #invader zim dib #my art #fan art #strange family au #invasor zim #meganixart #iz zadr #iz

[bolithesenate]

help i cannot stop thinking about Anakin Skywalker as Sifo-Dyas' padawan

#the juxtaposition of seer/chosen one is something i can rotate in my mind all day #and this would be even funnier if i mafe this part of the same au where sifo gets talzin as his padawan #vecause imagine anakin and fucking TALZIN being padawan siblings #yeah #welcome to glimpses into my very strange mind #things to consider for the mud fic ig #gonna make that family tree even worse now #random boli thoughts #me writing #star wars

[forever-eternal]

Hello. Have a little Body Temperature Headcanons for my Departments, States, Adam, and Robin.

The Departments have a relatively regular body temperature, internal and external. The kind that won’t make a doctor look twice. They are a few degrees colder than most humans though. About 95 F.

The States basically match whatever their State’s temperature is. A common hc, but it works. If they are sick, though, they’re either really cold or really warm.

Adam’s internal body temperature is a mess, basically all of the state’s current temperatures (weatherwise) mixing like watercolor paint. Most Thermometers don’t work on him for this reason, because they never give a concrete number. His external temperature is always the opposite of whatever climate he’s standing in. Like, could cause ice in a desert and melt snow in Yakutsk. When he’s sick he’s usually incredibly warm no matter what the outside temp is.

Robin is either extremely warm, extremely cold, or has no temperature at all. There is no in-between. Her internal temp is always boiling hot— not hot enough to immediately kill whoever she swallows alive, but enough that within a few agonizing hours their skin will be boiling off. When she’s sick she gets cold— like causes frostbite if a human touches her cold.

#welcome to the table #wttt #welcome to the table au #family ties au #wttt gov #wttt assistant #wttt oc #craack #wttt headcanons #States and Departmnets mentioned but they are Not As Strange so they don’t get sorta in-depth dives into their biology #Adam and Robin are Eldritch Horrors in human-shaped vessels #they make it everyones problem (except their family <3)

[starpros-sunshine]

OK FOLLOWING UP ON THE BARD THING i think eichi definitely invited wataru to perform at a noble party before. because they'd usually have musicians and so? so ok picture this. it's eichi's birthday so his parents want him to hold a ball and he usually thinks those are annoying but then he gets an idea. make it a masquerade (for the drama). invite wataru as both a performer And his partner for the ball. he's an actor! and everyone is of course impressed by wataru's performance but they're even more impressed because the always polite but unreachable tenshouin heir is expertly dancing with a masked stranger (i love the fact that eichi's specialty in his profile is ballroom dancing). and then they're annoying and overdramatic in public together but no one can figure out Who That Is

and also i know you said that shu was a tailor but i think it would be funny if he also were a noble (his family is also of high standing in canon i think) so he can be there to judge eichi. harshly. i havent figures out yet how to make him besties w wataru but ! it can work

!!!!

This got soooo long again so this is once more put under read more I am so sorry

The idea with the Masquerade comes up while Eichi complains to Wataru about his parents pretty much forcing him to throw a ball for his upcoming birthday (they already planned the whole thing and didn't reallly give him a choice in the matter) and how much of a hassle he thinks that is because of all the superficial politeness between people that everyone knows are gossipping about each other behind each others backs and how sick he is of the pretending to be well acquainted with these people he's talked to maybe once or twice and all the ladies that wish to dance with him and that want to suck up to him because of his families wealth and how really this is all just one big farce to "save face". So Wataru suggests "why not make it a masquerade ball" to spice things up a little bit maybe, take some of the stiffness out of it. And Eichi says he wants to invite Wataru because what's a public event without proper entertainment? Wataru agrees of course and they come up with all of these overly grandiose ideas and scenarios (most of them are utterly absurd. One they genuinely consider involves Wataru pretending to kidnap Eichi and causing a scandal (Eichi woud miraculously reappear the next day and they'd gaslight everyone into thinking that never even happened and all the people are just imagining things)).

Wataru mentions that he'll be gone for an evening to play at the noble's ball to the elderly inn-keeper couple over dinner and they make a really big fuss about it and tell him to dress nicely and to watch his manners because "Remember, you can't just drop from the ceiling with those high society people like we let you do it here they're very sensitive about manners you have to make sure to watch your manners!" and for a minute he wonders how it got to the point that his landlords started to treat him like they personally picked him up from the street when he was a child.

I like to think he met Shu when he was out on the street doing a little street performance to earn some extra money for himself and Shu, the way that he is, came by, looked him up and down, and then started a conversation with him about music as an art form and that somehow turned into a philosophical discussion and at the end of that they each went their own ways with the knowledge that there was a new friendship formed that day.

And maybe he's the one that sews Watarus clothes for the ball because if you spent most of your life as a traveling bard living hand to mouth from your music you won't really have the money for fancy clothes (Eichi still insists on paying for Wataru here because he wouldn't need to spend so much money on fancy ballgowns if it wasn't for him in the first place and also he just wants to treat Wataru to something nice and sees this as his chance seeing as Wataru declines most gift offers me made before). Wataru tells him about the entire thing and Shu scoffs because dislikes Eichi (still need to come up with a way to explain that disdain but I will come up with something trust me!) but his parents force him to be there too so "he might as well" (it's obvious he still puts in a lot of care "because of his pride as an artists" (because Wataru is his friend and he wants him to have something nice)).

Shu only has to be there because his family guilt trips him into going and he doesn't see the point in opening that can of worms again ("We already let you pursue your foolish dream of sewing clothes like a commoner this is the least you could do for your family.")

And then at the actual event he's in some secluded corner together with some other people who only attended as a mere formality because they also do not like the Tenshouin family but they have to be there because they're important and aristocrat politics are weird that way I suppose.

Meanwhile Wataru does his usual thing and charms everyone with his beautiful beautiful voice and his elegance and charm and oh he is so agreeable as a performer. Eichi has to handle the usual "pleasantries" (nothing pleasant about those tries) and he exchanges the one or the other suffering glance with Yuzuru when nobody pays attention that just screams "God when will it end". Yuzuru shoots him back a look that conveys the exact emotion of "my condolences" and then he goes on to look for Tori who's 1.53m figure has disappeared in the group of people and when he finds him he's talking to a gentleman that's about a head taller than him and the mask obscures his face but judging by the hair and the slight "animosity" between them he's talking to Tsukasa, so Yuzuru decides he's in good hands and leaves to do his own thing. (do they know they're talking to each other? Who knows! But they'd probably manage to start bickering either way.)

And eventually it gets to the actual Ball bit of the Birthday Ball Event where they actually dance (there's an actual orchestra there now and they play very lovely music). And almost everyone asks to dance with Eichi at least once. Eichi does not want to waste his time and energy on these people who are just interested in him for his money so he always makes up something about being preoccupied or a little tired or something that gives them no other choice but to back off. Suddenly Wataru appears behind him and does a little "boo!" and Eichi didn't expect that so he startles and almost drops his glass and tells Wataru not to do that anymore at public eventshas while Wataru has to stiffle a laugh because he thinks Eichi is cute when he pretends to try to be firm with him. After he's done with his "scolding" (you can barely call it that. he was very soft on Wataru.) Wataru asks him for a dance this time and he's very chivalrous about it - he goes all out really - he kisses his hand and offers him a rose while he does a little bow and asks if he "may have this dance with the lovely star of the evening" (and oh Eichi wants to kiss him so bad right then and there but in a room full of people that are worse than a committee of vultures that is very much not an option). Of course he agrees and they move to the dance floor and suddenly a Lot of eyes are on them because Eichi Tenshouin, whom a good chunk of pursuers have already given up on - because let us be real. It will never happen. The man hasn't shown interest in anyone at any moment in time and lives together with the Himemiya heir and his butler as far removed from the rest of the aristocracy as one would be able to - is waltzing with this masked stranger and it becomes very obvious very quickly that Eichis constant declining of dance offers was not for a lack of expertise because those two look breathtaking together.

Eichi actually dips Wataru once and some people wish they had hired an artist to paint the scene (because I'm a sap and wataei is beautiful I don't care I'm being self indulgent here)). And they talk but nobody can understand what because of the loud music and they curse the orchestra - which is still playing very lovely music (it's heavenly really) - for it.

After their dance is over Eichi goes back to declining every dance offer he gets with the excuse he's exhausted and needs to rest a little before he can dance again (the "I don't wish to dance with you" is implied and in the room but most people chose to ignore it to spare their ego and decide to take him at face value) and Wataru disappears to somewhere, nobody really knows where but somehow he's nowhere to be found. Until he sneaks up to Eichi a second time and does the whole "Boo!" thing again and Eichi almost drops his glass yet another time and as he turns around to "scold" Wataru again Wataru shushes him and takes Eichis, who is more confusedd than anything by now, hand and sneaks out of the ballroom with him.

Eichi asks where they are going and Wataru doesn't answer he just keeps walking and Eichi decides to just trust the process and suddenly they're on the Balcony again, not a cloud in the sky and the only sounds to be heard are the muffled instrumentals from the orchestra that started playing their next piece. The only lightsource being the moonlight reflected by the new years snow. And Wataru turns around, he's not wearing a mask anymore, and he does his little bow and kisses Eichis hand, hands him a rose he had appear from nowhere - a white one this time - and does his entire "May I have this dance with the lovely star of the evening" spiel again. It's the same routine really but it's different somehow. More intense. Because he says it with more sincerity than he did when they were around more people. And Eichi doesn't even have to reply before he finds himself whisked into this waltz yet again, somehow in the leading position. And then they dance and they dance and it's just the two of them, the stars as their only witnesses. And as the orchestra finishes their piece and the music fades out Eichi dips Wataru again and they kiss and it is so sappy and they are so so so so sappy.

They stay out on the balcony a little while longer but they retreat back inside rather timely seeing as it is still january and the night and as the following consequence of those two circumstances actually pretty cold and they'd both rather Eichi not get sick (he already got Watarus coat but then they'd also both like it very much if Wataru also didn't get sick either so they migrate back into the empty, dimly lit hallways of the mansion rather quickly)

(meanwhile at the actual ball people have noticed Eichi missing and started to ask questions, poor Yuzuru has to repeatedly tell people Eichi probably retreated into his quarters already, seeing as it is rather late and he was rather tired "Please excuse the young master for his failing in notifiying the other guests, he told me he didn't wish to interrupt the nice atmosphere and preferred to leave unnoticed".)

After the festivities died down Yuzuru and Tori go to check up on Eichis room because he's been gone without any notice and it would probably be useful to know if their kind-of-roommate just went away to fool around with that strange bard man they've been seeing sneaking around their mansion from time to time that Eichi seems to be oddly fond of or if the should actually be worried about his well-being. After they knock and get no reply Yuzuru just opens the door and he and Tori are both greeted with the view of Eichi asleep in his bed and next to him the also seemingly fast asleep figure of Wataru who's braid got considerably more lose during the course of the evening and who's also seemingly wearing some of Eichis sleepwear.

They both decide they have seen enough they do neither need nor wish to see more. Yuzuru, who has been in this situation before doesn't even have it in him anymore to react in a specific way. He just lets out this big sigh because he doesn't get paid enough for all of this as he directs Tori out of the room. Tori who has not been in this situation before has a Lot of questions now because he doesn't know this man but he's apparently closer to Eichi than most other people and he doesn't know how to feel about that but happy is probably not it.

(The following day Eichi has to listen to a (rightfully) disgruntled Yuzurus passive-agressive-yet-somehow-still-very-polite-sounding-Yuzuru-complaints about him just disappearing like that and leaving it to Yuzuru to take care of his mess (Eichi promises him to make up for it and that if Yuzuru has any favour to ask he's very welcome to come to Eichi about it). Tori really wants to ask about the strange man Eichi was so involved with but between not really getting a word in while Eichi and Yuzuru are talking and not really knowing how to take the exceedigly good mood Eichi is in (he's had "A very nice evening". With utmost certainty it was for reasons other than him actually enjoying the mingling witht the high society at social function he was obligated to host, Tori guesses), he kind of clinks out here and decides to simply take matters into his own hands when he gets the chance.)

#never let me write anything about them ever again #this got so long again I really just wrote my heart out huh #can you believe I actually researched flower language for this #in the middle I remembered that January is actually really cold at night so maybe I should switch up my approach a little #hm. did that work out? I have no idea #I kind of blacked out somewhere in the middle #Hiyori could've been in this idk he was there too somewhere with Jun or something #Eden attended the event but they're unimportant right now #can you tell I love fairytales by the way I feel like that got a little obvious throughout this entire AU #oh I should make a tag for this I'm actually rather fond of my embarrassing cringefail wataei au rambles #Btw when Wataru comes back home he's also in a very good mood and the elderly inn-keeper couple tease him about it #I've gotten very soft about that little thing that started as a side bit initially #those are his parents now they looked at this guy that has been occupiying this one room for a Long while #and that pays his rent by doing shows for the guests or helping in the kitchen or generally just helping around #some things are just easier when you're young and energetic #and they looked at him and his birds and went ''You're a little strange and off putting but you're part of the family now'' #this is way less profound than the first one it's suuuper self indulgent and a little lame but I like indulging from time to time #head in hands i really like wataei #wataei #OH! wait there's symbolism in the dance scene (the second one) #the rest is just me being silly #yumefan🎼🌠 #Wataru could wear Eichis clothes no problem I think thats so neat #because they're the same height and it's been said Wataru can pass perfectly for a woman so I assume he has more of a slim frame #chances are Eichis clothes sit loser on him than on Eichi i think that's a little funny #the possibility is there is all I'm saying #<- tag until i figure something out that sounds nicer #Märchen au

[ironfey-42]

Hay Rides and Pumpkins and Dates - AU PHOTO EDIT

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”

― Albert Camus

“Autumn is the mellower season; what we lose in flowers, we more than gain in fruits.”

― Samuel Butler

No Powers AU

Modern Day AU

No Superheroes AU

Single Parents AU

Tony adopts his godson Peter after his parents and uncle die in an accident a few years back. May needed a lot of support with taking care of Peter, so Tony stepped in to support both May and Peter. May and Tony are super close now, so when Tony met Stephen, May gave Stephen the shovel talk with Rhodey to also glare at Stephen because that’s his baby brother there.  (May and Rhodey are together)

Stephen is a single parent, having adopted America Chavez. Imagine both guys have enough money in their lifetime to support anyone they love. Peter and America get along like a house on fire. They are energetic and a tiny bit chaotic, but together they are a storm of chaos. 

Tony and Stephen have been on many dates, from when they met in December last year to the end of September. It’s spoopy fall season now. Stephen and Tony decide this date to be like a joint family date with Peter, May, Rhodey, and America. They go to this nice pumpkin patch place. The place has hay rides, a giant slide structure, and other stuff that people of different ages can enjoy. They also have an oversized chair known that the place is known for with a scarecrow setup. 

They enjoy the hay rides together as a couple and as a family group. Finally, they end the day at the pumpkin patch by getting pumpkins and having hot apple cider. (It’s chilly outside now) Both Peter and America are excited to carve pumpkins. The adults also get pumpkins to decorate their houses. (The next date idea is pumpkin carving in a few days with the combined group again)

@ironstrangehaven @ironstrangebingo

AO3

#ironfeyworks #ironstrange #iron's AUs #iron man #fanwork #tony stark #marvel cinematic universe #doctor strange #stephen strange #magitech #strangeiron #strange family

[quietwingsinthesky]

combining little amelia pond in the tardis with the tardis family au and trying to figure out which members would be pro and against child endangerment.

#i have jack (guilty) under against and sarah jane smith (actively also doing child endangerment) as pro #tardis family au #this is also very important because the image of amy standing with the rest of the gang in the tardis (on a stool because she’s tiny) and #being treated as a Very Important Contributor to discussions of space-time adventuring is everything to me #donna gets parenting practice by helping to take care of this weird little kid (and is later so so thankful that rose (noble) is. normal. #and doesn’t bite people. or run off with strange men in blue boxes. only strange family members in blue boxes.) #tentoo also surprisingly good at taking care of amy. (the doctor is too but he’s very pro-child endangerment whereas tentoo is. leaning #towards against.) #sorry. sorry. thought about little amelia getting passed between people when she’s tired and they’re all working together to look after her #martha picks her up. passes her to mickey who passes her to jack because he thinks it would be funny and jack won’t know what to do with her #and then jack walks around with amy propped up in his arm and including her in his running commentary of events aboard the tardis and making #her giggle. and then eventually she gets handed off back to the doctor who takes her back to her (now no longer endsngered by a tjme crack) #room and puts her to bed. #amy’s collection of doctor toys she made joined by little versions of the companions she meets…. 🥺🥺 #her raggedy doctor and the bad wolf girl and the woman who walked the earth… they give her the less violent versions of the stories but they #do tell her. 🥺🥺