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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 7 months

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*SPOILER FIC FOR LOKI S2 FINALE*

Do not read until you have watched or are otherwise ready to be spoiled. THIS IS YOUR WARNING!

Idunn & The Golden Apple

In the village of Time’s Ridge, they say when a little girl is sacrificed, she is adopted by the gods and granted any wish she makes. When the orphan Idunn is driven over the side, she blinks and finds herself before a mysterious entity known as the God of Stories. Luckily, in order to gain his favor, she brings a small sacrifice of her own before his glowing throne.

Characters: Loki, OFC (child), cameos of Thor and Mobius Genre: Tragedy, Comfort, Found Family Word Count: 3.3k Content Warnings: SPOILERS FOR LOKI S2 FINALE!, Loki gives off dad vibes, child sacrifice

This time, the annual sacrifice at Time's Ridge was almost a scandal. Woeful Idunn was only ten-years-old.

She stood on the precipice, overlooking the glowing green abyss she’d once played beside thoughtlessly, unaware at the time that it was about to become her grave. Her thick red hair was woven into two braids, laced with daisy blossoms. Idunn was wearing a gray frock meant to symbolize her mortality and humility, she kept her hands in the pocket of her simple, tattered pinafore, her left hand curled around a small ball hidden away.

Instead of weeping like most sacrifices did, Idunn was choosing to go with at least a little dignity (not that anyone was there to be awed by her maturity--being an orphan, no one really cared how she looked anyway). Perhaps she wasn’t even all that upset about being picked by the Leader to die on behalf of Time’s Ridge. A less-brained individual might be flattered by being selected.

Of course, Idunn knew better. The only reason she was here was because no one would miss her.

The green glow of the bottomless pit was somewhat new, and that was when The Ritual began, some two generations before Idunn was born and left to die by a helpless mother. No explanation was given, but the green aura of the trench appeared, and suddenly: the perpetual storms plaguing the fields ceased. People stopped disappearing mysteriously…at least until things began getting worse again. Then, only a few years before Idunn was born, a child fell into the trench and disappeared, but time and the weather stabilized again, and so it was accepted that only the gift of a child’s wish brought personally to whatever god watched over Time’s Ridge, the sad little village at the end of the universe, would bring safety back.

It was always such an honor to be picked to die, until it was your turn. Then, if you were fortunate enough to have a parent of means, your only hope to live to see the following year was to have them bribe the Leader to pick someone else.

“Idunn, Blessed Daughter of Time’s Ridge!” The Leader began his ceremonial monologue, which was surprisingly ho-hum for being the prologue to child homicide. “Today, you are being sent into the Higher Worlds to seek out aid for our small community--”

I’m not waiting for this, the little girl thought. Let’s just get it over with. I have nothing to stay for. She covertly pulled the golden ball from her pocket and held it up, slowly turning before the crowd.

“May I eat before I jump?” she asked. Gasps rang out.

“Where did she get one of those?” someone called out.

The Leader smiled sadly, shaking his head. “You may, Little Idunn. Though I am not sure as to where you found one. But be aware, silly girl, even one of those won’t save your conscious life now.”

Idunn twisted her lip, looking at the golden apple in her hand, shrugging and taking a large bite. The taste was as if the Creators themselves invented the perfect sweet. The crisp skin snapped between her teeth, and the delicious juices felt almost like a cool, gentle tea rolling over her tongue.

I just hope the weird peddler who sold it to me was right, Idunn thought bravely, looking down at the apple as the bite mark she made instantly healed itself, creating a perfectly full piece once more.

A bolt of lightning broke overhead, causing the little girl to jump backwards, startled, her courage failing her for the first time.

“An honorable sacrifice should not be afraid of a little lightning,” mocked a cruel adolescent from the crowd.

Idunn looked back over her shoulder at her glowing tomb. “I’m not overly fond of what follows,” she replied, deciding to turn around, the juices and magic sugars from the golden apple beginning to fall into her stomach and move around inside, warming her core.

Work quickly, work quickly…come on…

She breathed in and raised her voice, which boomed many times larger than her petite body would suggest she could utter. “I hate you all, and I would live forever with no guilt at all if it meant each one of you got to fall into the pit in my place. I hope the timeline frays and swallows you all whole!”

The disapproving murmurs from her assembly of executions gave her a small pinch of satisfaction. One last victory for the condemned. She couldn’t delay it any more when the cruel Leader signaled for the pounding, rhythmic drums to sound.

Fine, even if this is it for me, I don’t want to be here anyway.

The only regret Idunn had in the moment before she fell forward into the abyss was that she was born in Time’s Ridge, a place so afraid of the shifts in time and space that were otherwise so natural around their realm that they would throw children off cliffs in order to make the gods happy.

Gods, Idunn thought. Good thing gods aren’t real.

Idunn decided not to give the Leader the satisfaction of reciting the poetic Final Prayer of the Sacrifice, and instead did a graceful twist of her small body, her red braids flying about her face and standing out even in the twilight suns, falling over with just enough time to wave goodbye to the village before meeting her fate at the bottom of a fraying timeline’s abyss.

The little girl felt the sensation of falling…more falling…even more…then a blinding green light followed by the feeling of being lifted by a thin arm or branch---

Gods aren’t real. Gods aren’t real. Gods aren’t real. Gods aren't--

Infinite branches of time, universes, were binding Loki to his throne amidst a sea of green matter and light, where he would be sitting until time itself decided to rip his duties from him and end existence.

That…that would be soon, right?

Worse than the eons that were beginning to pass before his eyes without him, promising adventures he would never have, romantic nights he would never see, were the whispers, the noises. Loki could hear every spoken voice in every timeline, but they were all a low, maddening hum that rang in his ears as he sat, legs apart, in his supernatural throne room, nothing but the years for company. Of course, the voices of those he knew in life were the loudest and hardest to hear.

And he was hungry. So. Damn. Hungry.

Even Gods needed to eat, but what was there to find in Loki’s palace of emerald and gold, buried underneath countless layers of timeline branches, ensnared in the prison of Yggdrasil? Loki couldn't die of starvation, but the hunger pangs would frequently send surges of pain through his core, out his arms, and as a result, a few timelines would flicker for a moment before regaining normalcy. It was likely these places would only see inclement weather or a few years of time skipped over as a result.

It was painful, but the only way Loki could check on his few allies was through the branches tying him to his noble seat. Sometimes, he would follow the sound of Mobius’ slow voice and find his favorite timeline: where Mobius was happy, retired, living with his adult sons and their spouses and children on a cabin by the beach (three jet skis and an ATV in the garage, of course).

He smiled as he saw OB’s TVA manuals and novels being stored away in a timeproof capsule for posterity, ensuring his legacy. The little man was never taller.

He’d even caught a glimpse of Thor from time to time, and Loki had spent countless hours following him from afar as he traveled with a small band of space brigands. He even managed a chuckle upon seeing what Thor was getting up to: “Father would be embarrassed…and that music is terrible.”

Not that it mattered.

He was forever burdened with glorious purpose, just as he’d prophesied as an arrogant youth. Now, I’m gloriously burdened, Loki thought. He nearly smirked at the poetic irony, or perhaps it was justice for his past transgressions that fit the same meter. A Loki with freedom would have enjoyed the twist for what it was.

A tear formed at the corner of his left eye at the thought. Forever. Here. No food or love or friendship to keep his heart from slowly eroding away with the millennia.

Suddenly, the branches around Loki’s wrists began shaking, writhing in his grip, as if a blustery wind disturbed them. He looked up, his eyes following one of the timelines furthest away from his immediate sight: a gray and lethargic piece of the Tree of Life. As the other tendrils of time began shaking furiously at some invisible disturbance, this branch suddenly exploded into a thread of white hot light before curling in on itself and returning to its original state.

Loki attempted to get to his feet, but he was still bound by the thousands of other timelines he protected. No matter, the odd shift in the air quickly subsided, at least until a brief ‘pop’ was audible from somewhere ahead of Loki’s line of vision, buried behind the twisting strings of time.

“Odd,” analyzed the God of Stories, “but amounting to nothing.”

Alas, he was wrong. For almost immediately after his declaration that the anomaly was of no concern: a small, high voice cooed from beyond the branches.

“H…hello?”

Loki felt his heart still, his skin cool, and a strange current in the air moved about the green chamber, rustling the hem of his cape where it met his boots. It was the first time since he took his place on the throne that it did so.

No, it’s a trick.

“HELLO?”

No one, no mortal could survive being here. It’s why it had to be me…

“Is there someone here?”

No, that’s certainly another’s voice.

Loki dared to hope after all this time. He opened his mouth to reply…but nothing fell out other than a few sharp notes and breath. Had it been so long since he’d used his vocal chords?

Out of the tangle of time streams before Loki, a diminutive, pale figure stumbled over herself, gripping something yet unseen in her hand, wearing a disgusting, dirty gray slip. A little girl, no older to existence than a spring lamb.

Norns, it’s a child!

“Is this heaven?” the little girl asked, brushing a fiery red braid from her shoulder and walking hesitantly into the throne room. “Or somewhere else?”

Loki’s mouth hung open, but his words still somehow failed him.

“Are you The Creator, or some God? Are you real? I didn’t think you would be. I guess I’m glad you are.”

The questions were pouring out of Idunn’s mouth so quickly that Loki was reminded of himself as a child, when he’d ask his mother one too many questions.

“Maybe I should--”

“Who are you?”

Idunn was so startled at the Green King’s first successful words to her, she leapt backwards, tumbling over a branch that her ankle met by accident. Loki nearly attempted to rise again.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m Idunn,” said the girl, regaining composure remarkably quickly.

“...Loki.”

A moment of awkward silence went by before Idunn took another step back toward the throne. “Are all those a part of you?” she asked, her thoughts as aimless and unorganized as any ten-year-old’s.

Loki looked up into the time vines, feeling smaller and more alone than ever in the surreal presence of this little creature who’d managed to survive an entrance into open time without being torn into tiny threads and scattered across space.

“I suppose they are.”

Idunn sighed, shrugging and positioning herself at his feet. “I didn’t know gods were real. I thought they were just an excuse to--”

“--oh, gods are real, little one--”

“--get rid of me.”

Loki fell silent again, this time stunned at the bluntness of the child, and the darkness of her admission.

“What kind of miniature sorceress are you, Miss Idunn?” he asked, his voice starting to lighten in an attempt to alleviate the child’s fears. “Your powers must be fearsome if you stand before me now fully intact.”

“I’m not a witch,” Idunn conceded. “They just chose me for the sacrifice this year, and I had something to help myself survive.”

Loki didn’t know what part of this distressing declaration to address first. “Sacrifice?”

Idunn nodded, looking about the branches above her head, pointing to the one that was still recovering from the intrusion. “Time’s Ridge. They call it The Village at the End of the Universe. They sacrifice a child every year to stop the storms.”

The God of Stories was aware of the histories of many of his burdensome tethers by now, but even Time’s Ridge was a mystery to him.

“Sacrifice?” he repeated as the oblivious blatherskite before him went on, her fears quickly alleviating into a more normal enthusiasm that suited a youth her age.

“Yes,” affirmed the girl, “but the night before they took me to the abyss, a strange man came by my cell window and offered me this.”

She showed Loki the golden apple, causing his jaw to drop again. The girl was unfamiliar, but the apple was unmistakably Asgardian. A rare delicacy, the Golden Apples of Asgard gave the Gods their eternal youth and immortality. Every god had a single one on their person, for sometimes one could find themselves pulling back from the edge of oblivion by virtue of one bite.

They were so rare because they were so difficult to cultivate. Any one mistake during the process would render the apples lethal to even the Allfather. The only grower Loki knew to be alive was an elderly Asgardian somewhere out in the cosmos. How he made his way to this little urchin teetering at the edge of everything and knew to offer her the last apple in existence, Loki couldn’t even guess.

“Did he say where he got that?” Loki’s eternal hunger suddenly caught up with him again upon seeing the golden apple in her small hand.

“No. All I can remember is that he was very strong and handsome for a peddler. Only other thing I can remember is that he was blonde. Oh, and he had a big hammer with him, too. I think he was looking for me directly, like he knew who needed this.”

Loki’s cold skin shot back into a warm heat that made two more tears stain his cheeks.

Idunn looked regretful. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Did you want a bite?”

Loki looked sadly off to his sides. “I cannot eat. I cannot let go of even a single one of these timelines, little one. I couldn’t hold an apple or a spoon.”

The child looked from Loki to the apple, and back. “So then I’ll help!” she said as simply as if it were the answer to 1 + 1.

Before the god could protest, or even ask, Idunn had taken it upon herself to climb Loki’s throne and sit in his lap, holding the unbitten apple before his lips. “Don’t you want--?”

Loki didn’t wait, his hunger overriding any sense of decorum, and accepted a large mouthful of fruit, almost unhinging his jaw like a snake to consume as much sustenance in a single crumb as he could. As a result, Loki had accounted for half of the apple with his bite. Idunn giggled at Loki’s accomplishment.

The food was not only the single most delicious morsel of food he’d ever consumed, but he felt it travel down to his stomach before warmly blossoming, artificially filling his stomach for the time being. The pains subsided almost immediately, and a surge of energy filled Loki’s veins.

Then, something remarkable happened that he didn’t expect. The timelines glowed gold instead of green for a moment, and each one that was even remotely loose or frayed was repaired and made stronger than it had been before. Small orbs of gold began appearing above their heads, looking as if golden apples were growing on the branches of the World Tree. Idunn gasped.

“Pretty!” she whispered. “I didn’t know these could do that!” she declared excitedly, looking down at the apple.

“Nor I,” said Loki, his gratefulness to the strange girl present in his tone. I wonder if this is affecting the beings within?

“Do you have children?” asked Idunn, suddenly. Loki shook his head, his large, horned diadem nearly whacking the girl off her perch.

“No. Do you have…parents?” he asked hesistantly in return.

“No. No one wanted me.”

Loki’s heart went out to the child. “I know the feeling.”

Idunn sighed. “Why do you think they picked me to jump at Time’s Ridge?”

Loki looked sadly down at the apple in Idunn’s fist, already repairing itself.

“I’m alone,” Idunn continued. “I had to come here in order to save everyone else while they move on with their lives without me. No family, no reason to expect to find one.”

Norns, am I looking into a mirror? Loki smiled, feeling an odd new sensation one could only describe as paternal. “Perhaps…when two unloved, unwanted people find each other, there’s a family to be found there, little one.”

Time passed, how much neither the entombed god nor the condemned child knew, but this was because neither cared. It was here that The God of Stories was able to share his own tales for the first time, and once he and Idunn moved past the initial shock of discovering one another here, in the darkest and least likely of places, his long stretches of details quickly became libraries’ worth.

Idunn may have been young, but her maturity was at least partially Asgardian. Loki suspected her heritage could have been closer to his own peoples’ than one would expect of one of the lowly residents of the edge of time. As such, Loki found his paternal instinct toward Idunn grow, and as infinite measures of time began to pass, he began encouraging her to eat and rest in between stories and songs. After all, she was only as immortal as the apples made her. She was not a god, nor a full Asgardian.

Before long, Loki felt compelled to say what had slowly begun to creep into his mind once she appeared: it’s so wonderful having someone to talk to.

Instead, he addressed what he least wanted to. “Idunn,” he said. “Unlike myself, you are free to leave here at any time.”

She sighed. “Are you tired of me now?”

He quickly denied her with a sad face and a headshake. “I suppose I just wanted to inform you that you could probably enter any one of these timelines and find a better world to live in than the one you knew…and the one that is here.”

Are you mad? thought Idunn. Why would I leave you, the first person to ever listen to me?

“No, I think I’ll stay here a while. You need someone to help you eat, and I need…”

Loki smiled and completed her thought. “...a glorious purpose?”

“Exactly.”

She nodded. “As long as I have this, and as long as you won’t tell me to jump off a ridge, then I will be here for you, King Loki.”

“Sweet daughter Idunn,” Loki whispered in relief, “just know one final thing: please don't call me King Loki.”

Idunn giggled and threw her arms around Loki’s shoulders in an embrace of perfect love and trust. For the moments she couldn’t see his face, Loki allowed the tears to fall freely.

Thus, the Goddess of Youth took her place alongside the God of Stories, giving him the strength and companionship he needed to hold reality aloft on his shoulders for however long the whims of fate would have him there.

For as long as she stayed there, Loki never knew loneliness again.

Yeah, this fic is basically "a wild daughter appears!" like Thor: L&T was for Thor, but Loki just can't and shouldn't be alone on top of the multiverse like that. Come on, y'all.

MY MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @acidcasualties @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtiggerv2 @gruftiela @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @itsybitchylittlewitchy @joyful-enchantress @loopsisloops @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @peachyjinx @anukulee @queen-chaos-of-hell @purplegrrl27 @ozymdias @smolvenger @mrs-illyrian-baby

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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ok hear me out. girl dad steve but the little girl is just so wednesday coded. i cri

the crossover we didn’t know we needed.

Margot had grown into four year old who was incredibly in tune with the world around her. She was smart, creative and amazing at communicating with the people in her life.

She loved the outdoors and her nightlight that shone stars on the walls of her room, she loved her stuffed bat from uncle Eddie and she liked it when Steve played his old records, the snap and crackle of them.

She didn’t have to always be happy about it all though.

Steve’s daughter had taken after her mom in that sense, her little features more often than not, looking a little sullen. But her chubby cheeks and wide eyes made her look more comical than scary, not quite at your level of chilling.

Not yet.

And on this rare Saturday where you’d had to get called into work - an emergency - your boss had said, Steve said goodbye to you at the front door, Margot by his legs, arms wrapped around his knees.

He’d kissed you goodbye, never getting over the feeling of you leaning into him, softening even though you’d spent the morning scowling as you packed your bag with files and lunch - and a tiny mason jar that seemed to be filled with some dirt and what looked like a bone, but Steve didn’t ask.

Margot had granted you a kiss goodbye too, lips pouting ‘cause she hated when you left but Steve ushered her back inside with the promise of a day of fun. At her choosing, of course.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Steve told her, “what d’you wanna do today, huh? We could bake some cookies or visit uncle Eddie? Or, or we could see what uncle Dustin is doing, maybe he’d meet us at the park. What d’you say?”

Steve looked down at the toddler, smiling at the sight of her still wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his thigh as she peered up at him. She was contemplating his options with a somewhat serious frown, a tiny stitch between her brows. Her hair was a still a mess from bed, the curls that formed around her neck and ears staring to look more and more like his every day.

“Can we go t’woods?”

“The woods?” Steve repeated, shuffling forward until Margot got the hint and stood on his feet. “What do you wanna go there for?”

Steve walked as Margot clung, only lifting her when they got to the stairs and the tot squeaked when her dad wrangled her over his shoulder. She clung to his hair as he jogged up to her room, setting her on her bed as he dug for suitable clothes. And a hairbrush, ‘cause you’d have stern words for him if you came home to your baby with tangled curls again.

“Bugs,” Margot said plainly, still staring up at her dad, unblinking.

Steve sighed. “Bugs? What do you want bugs for?”

“They’re cool,” Margot told him, sounding far too exasperated for a four year old as Steve offered a pink and red striped sweater for her to wear. “I don’t like that sweater.”

“But aunt Robin bought it for you,” Steve tried to bargain.

She merely scrunched her nose in distaste, an action that immediately made her look like a carbon copy of you and Steve would’ve sighed if it didn’t make his heart ache.

He was soft. Too soft, Eddie told him, especially so considering he had two girls that were partly made from ice.

“Okay, you pick.”

It surprised no one when the girl pointed to the black pinafore that hung too high for Margot to reach, but as Steve brought it off the hanger, she scampered to find a shirt to wear underneath it.

“But, bugs?” Margot reminded him, throwing a dark, dark green jumper on the floor by his feet. “I need mo’ bugs.”

It was a wrestle to get Margot dressed, the kid not really wanting to stay still as she tried to reach for the tiny net that hung behind her door, mumbling about her ‘bug boots’ at the same time.

“Baby, what do you need bugs for?” Steve tried not to sound too impatient, but he recalled a time when you once led him into the woods. He came away with pockets full of tiny bones and no explanation, and to this day, he’d open drawers in the house to find a little femur or two. “What’re you doing with the bugs?”

“S’a secret,” Margot told him solemnly and there she went again, staring up at him with an unnerving stillness.

“Margot, baby, you gotta blink more,” Steve muttered, barely paying attention as he tried to grab her tiny hand through her sleeve, pulling it through properly. “And you don’t get to keep secrets from your dad.”

The girl fluttered her lashes and Steve hummed his praise before dropping a kiss to her head and searching for the brush.

And when Steve returned to tame her bed head into two pigtails, his daughter just shrugged and mumbled, “I jus’ like bugs.”

#ask #steve harrington #steve harrington x wednesday!reader #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction

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bee-can-art · 10 months

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It's taken me two weeks but I finally finished all of my qsmp egg human designs!!!

I have a lot to say about the design choices I made, so I'll put those under the read more if you want to hear my headcanons!!

• Click for better quality (17/07/2023)

_____

Some general headcanons:

• In order of shortest to tallest it goes: Bobby, Richalyson, Gegg, Tallulah, Tilín, Trump, JuanaFlippa, Pomme, Chayanne, Leonarda, Ramón, and Dapper.

• All of the eggs when found were wearing the same white vest/t-shirt and black shorts combination; along with their unique accessories. Any clothes that they're currently wearing, were gifted to them by the player characters.

• All of the eggs are the same age, and are all related (pretty sure that's canon tho).

• The eggs take on physical features from their parents, as an survival instinct. This includes basics such as hair and eye colour. But also includes things such as height and hair type.

• Eggs who's parents are avian/have bird-like features (such as wings), will adapt to have the same wing type as them. This also applies to other eggs, who are taken care of by avian players (see: Tallulah has dragon wings, but is growing black and golden feathers on them).

• The lower half of the eggs are dragon-esque; with scaley legs and clawed feet. The colour of their scales and number of toes that they posses are fixed and cannot be changed. Their ears and horn are a unique shape and colour, depending on the egg. The horns will continue to grow into adulthood.

They also have more naturally sharpened nails (like claws (but not sharp enough to hurt)).

_____

Tallulah

• Wears one of Wilbur's yellow sweaters, the sleeves often hanging over her hands. The red dress she wears is actually meant to be a pinafor, which is a staple part of a primary school uniform, here in the UK. They're most commonly grey, which I originally coloured it but it didn't look right, so I changed it.

• Has a freckle under her right eye (to her) that matches Wilbur, but also has a reverse freckle pattern of Quackity (I'm a tntduo-er (sue me)).

• Due to being cared for by Phil, she has begun growing small, black feathers on her wings. She also has a few golden ones, which started appering whilst trying to get Quackity to confess to Wilbur.

___

Chayanne

• Takes after Phil the most, due to Missa's absence. This includes his wings becoming feathered crow ones, growing feathers on his face and tail, and has a hair and an eye colour to match Phil's. He also has a matching mole.

• Sometimes wears a helmet made from a large eggshell, painted to look like a skull (a nod to Missa and the fact that the eggs are... well, eggs). The skull on his t-shirt is also a nod to Missa (but he defo got it from Phil).

• His duck floaty has been replaced by a yellow hoodie, tied around his waist.

___

Tilín

• Remember how I said that the clothes they wear were given to them by their parents? I like the idea (and think it's very in-character for him) that Quackity basically said, "I don't have any clothes for you, so just wear this until I find some", giving Tilín one of his jackets, and then they Tilín passed away before he could get him something else.

• He and Tallulah are the same height (again, I'm a tntduo-er (yes I am aware that Tilín's other parent has been confirmed to be Luzu, but this is my post so SHUSH). Also, similar to Tallulah, they have the same freckle pattern as Quackity, and an opposite placed freckle (under their left eye) to Wilbur.

• Has golden wings and feathers on face. Doesn't has a tail, due to low placement of their wings.

___

JunaFlippa

• Wears one of Slime's white t-shirts with the three red hearts. Also owns a pair of Mariana's red gloves (not included in the drawing).

• Her wings have small holes in them, due to going to hell and coming back again.

• Gun.

• Her hair colour is closest to Slimecicle's, but it's unknown why her eyes are green (not brown like Mariana or blue like Slime).

___

Bobby

• The smallest of all the eggs.

• From Jaiden he has her wings, bang and hair sprout pattern and colour. From Roier he has his multiple eyes (bc spider), eye colour, and wears one of his bandanas like him.

(I forgot to include the paint stains on his clothes, but he has those too).

___

Leonarda

• Has small, rainbow mushrooms growing from their horns.

• From Foolish she has wings of gold (yes, you heard me. Leo's wings aren't like Tilín's with golden feathers, but are literally made from gold (yes she can still fly with them)). From Vegetta they have his hair and eye colour.

___

Trump

• Was given one of Dan's turtlenecks and jackets, which were never replaced because, 1) Dan went "missing", 2) he [Trump] died before getting anything else.

(On another note, it was so wild for me to draw that jacket. I used to be a HUGE DanTDM fan, and the last time I drew fanart relating to him was in 2016/17)).

• Took after Maxo in hair and eye colour.

___

Dapper

• The tallest egg (bc qBBH is one tall motherfucker). • Obviously, all of his features come from BBH, including the shape of his horns and the shape of his tail.

(if you were to put Dapper and BBH next to each other, Dapper would literally just look like a tiny BBH).

___

Pomme

• Her beret isn't all black like her egg model, but looks like a red apple.

• Has split-coloured scales (one side blue, the other red) to match the placement of the markings on her egg model.

• Has golden duck wings to match Baghera. I went back and forth on whether to give her those or the butterfly wings she wears in-game. But I like the idea that those are more simialr to those fancy-dress type ones you can buy.

• The bottom of her dress has an apple stiched onto it.

___

Ramón

• Second tallest egg.

• Yes he has hair under the hat (I haven't made him bald, don't worry). The hat itself is a nod to Spreen, who is his other parent but hasn't logged on in a while. His general outfit is also mean to have belonged to Spreen, as his Minecraft skin is just a bear in Steve's clothes.

I changed the pants, and added a white shirt and monocle because I like the idea that he's a bit of a fancy boy.

• The moustache on his egg model is represented in his hair, which you can see sticking out from under the hat (bc, like Chayanne, I had no idea how to get it to work in a logical sense).

___

Richarlyson

• The second shortest egg.

• I'll be completely honest, I have no idea where the prosthetic leg headcanon came from for him, but I liked it so I included it. The leg I gave him is a running blade, as he is a fairly active kid.

• His hair covers his eyes, but underneath they are brown.

___

Gegg

(Yes I'm including Gegg, shush)

• His whole body is green goop. This is how qSlime would also look, but it's easier for him to have his skin appear human, when at his "correct" size. When he [Slime] becomes over emotional/damged, his skin becomes more slime like.

Gegg is qSlime's way of coping with both his own daughter's loss and also his own self image. Because of this, he is always in a state of hurt, and this is refelected in Gegg's physical appearance.

• Has sticks sticking out of him, as well as visible bones, rocks, and other debris within his body. They get stuck in his him, in moments where he has a hard time controling the stickiness/consistency of his body.

• Doesn't have horns, wings, or a tail like the other eggs. Instead, he wears a pair of green, fancy-dress, dragon wings. It's obvious to other players/eggs- because they're on the outside of his clothes- but no points it out.

• Jorts.

• His t-shirt says "gegg" upside down, because he wrote it on himself, whilst wearing the shirt.

• No nose. His eyes also hover inconsistently over where his hair should cover them. His glasses are also just qSlime's.

• Gegg for president.

Here's the full lineup, for anyone who read alllll of that :D

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 7 months

Text

Tricks & Treats

A little Halloween blurb featuring Roy & Bucky! Takes place after the events of Something There, so spoilers for chapters 11 & 12 I guess? Thank you to @infinetlyforgotten for helping inspire the idea!

0.9k words Warnings: Flirting & teasing, language, some oral (f receiving)

Something There Masterlist

“Come on, Bucky!”

I laughed and leaned down to link my arm with Pheobe’s. “I don’t remember Dorothy and the Wicked Witch skipping together in the movie,” I joked to the little green girl. I glanced over my shoulder. “Do you, Scarecrow?”

Roy scowled at me, his grim face nothing short of comical with the straw-filled pointy hat and painted face he’d let me put on him earlier that evening. But when I raised my eyebrows at him, he let out a heaving sigh and linked up on Phoebe’s other side. Together, the three of us strolled arm in arm to the next house, where Roy and I watched Phoebe hustle up to the door to get her candy.

I leaned close to Roy and wrapped an arm around his middle. “Having fun?”

His eyes trailed down my blue-and-white checkered dress. “Do we really have to go to the party after this?” he grumbled. “I just want to go home and wipe this shit off my face.”

“Roy,” I cooed mockingly, giving him a squeeze. “Don’t you want to see adorable Dorothy become grown-up Dorothy for the party tonight?” I wiggled my foot at him. “The ruby slippers are going to turn into red stilettos. Gonna need someone to carry me home once they kill my ankle.”

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards, mimicking his raised eyebrows. “One hour. Then it’s no fucking place like home, got it?”

Once Phoebe was satisfied with her haul and had been dropped off with her mom, we quickly stopped to freshen up before Keeley’s annual Halloween bash. I changed into the shoes I’d been teasing Roy about and switched out the knee-length pinafore I’d been wearing for one that stopped midway down my thighs.

Roy raised his eyebrows at me when I found him waiting in the living room. “That’s so fucking unfair, babe,” he groaned, brown eyes raking over my body. “You sure we have to go to this shit?”

Smirking at the exact reaction I’d been hoping for, I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door. “Let’s go, Kent.”

To no one’s surprise, Keeley’s party was a real rager. The club she was hosting it at was packed with people- Greyhounds, Whippets, celebrities, friends. We wandered around, Roy’s hand on my lower back, greeting familiar faces over the pulsing music. Roy managed to grab us a couple of drinks, which I convinced him to bring to the dance floor; ever since our first date, there one where he took me back to the club we’d met at, I loved getting Roy to dance whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Despite his good-natured eyerolls, Roy leaned close to me as we danced, letting his hand wander a bit more than was appropriate in public. But, between the alcohol and the music and his warm touch, I didn’t care one bit. I pressed my back to him, closing my eyes with a smirk as we moved to the music. I knew by the way Roy grinded against me that he’d make me pay for all this torture.

Sure enough, exactly sixty minutes after our arrival, Roy interlocked his fingers with mine.

“Hour’s up, Coach,” he hummed.

Roy liked to drive fast in that big, stupid car of his. And it was especially true tonight as he nearly ran a few red lights and treated the speed limits like suggestions. The entire time, his hand gripped my thigh, fingers digging into my skin. His jaw was set, gaze straight ahead, looking more like he was preparing to enter a championship game than just driving home with his girlfriend.

“Roy!” I squeaked as he nearly yanked me out of the car once he’d parked.

With his hand firmly on my ass, he practically sprinted to the front door. He unlocked it in record time and slammed it behind him. Relief crossed his face for a fraction of a moment before being replaced with pure lust and desire.

“So fucking mean,” he growled, pressing my back to the wall by the front door. “Wearing that fucking dress, dancing with me the way you did.” His mouth found my neck. “What did I do to deserve that, Buck?”

Despite the fire that was starting to spread over my skin, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “Don’t call me Buck, Kent.”

His breathy chuckle tickled my neck. “Sorry, darling.” His hands wandered up and down my sides, gripping the blue and white material. “Just looked so fucking good tonight. Forgot my fucking manners.”

When his fingertips grazed the bare skin of my thighs, I let out a deep sigh. “Bedroom?”

To my surprise, Roy shook his head. “Can’t fucking wait that long.”

In an instant, Roy was on his knees in front of me, tugging my already short skirt up to reveal the red lace I’d put on with him in mind. He groaned when he saw the material, reaching out to press one finger to the damp spot he’d caused. Without warning, he lifted my leg- the one with the shit ankle- over his shoulder, leaving me attempting to balance on one stiletto. As if he knew I needed help, he tightened his grip on my hips before pressing his mouth to my clothed heat.

“Fuck!” I gasped as my hips instantly jerked against his face. “Shit, Roy-” With a blissful sigh, I threw my head back, gripping his curly hair tight.

His tongue tugged the material aside, exposing my cunt to his hot breath. “Hello, gorgeous,” he hummed, planting a deep kiss to my pussy lips. “My little Halloween treat.”

#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine

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