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softquietsteadylove · 1 year

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Hi! Would you do something soft for your Fic „Passing Notes“? The soulmate au was just amazing and underrated! ❤️

"That can't be him."

"Nah, can't be," Druig murmured in agreement with Dane, also leaning around the corner to peek at the one person already seated at a table for six people. "Right?"

"Right," Dane mumbled, crouched down next to the younger man. He worried his lip as he stared at the man with his phone in his hands. "Can it?"

"Mm," Druig sighed, pulling back on his skepticism. "Kari did say he was supposedly a big guy."

"She hasn't met him either?" Dane asked, referring to his own testimony from Sersi also being third hand.

Druig shook his head. "T's been secretive about 'im, far as I can tell. This is the first the girls are meetin'im too. They said they've peeked at some pictures of 'em together, though."

"On Thena's phone?" Dane couldn't help but ask, his disbelief clear. Thena wasn't really a...picture taker. Druig just nodded. It was hard to imagine Thena as being so infatuated as to take couple photos with her new partner, soulmate or not.

"Guess we'll have to see for ourselves, mate," Druig tugged at his leather jacket before straightening up. He sniffed and twitched his nose, as if preparing to go intimidate the mountain of a man waiting for them and their respective partners.

"Right," Dane followed with only some reluctance. Perhaps the large gentleman was very nice. According to Thena, he was sweet, although Dane had some trouble reconciling how a person as frightening as Thena could find someone who had no terrifying qualities themselves.

He - Gil, apparently - looked up and offered them a sheepish kind of wave.

"How ye doin'?" Druig nodded as a form of greeting as they arrived at the table. "Druig--I'm Kari's."

"Dane," he leaned forward to offer his hand much more formally than Druig's greeting. "I'm Sersi's partner."

"It's great to meet you guys," Gil smiled widely, although his nervousness hadn't quite left him completely. "I've heard all about you."

"Good things, I hope," Dane chuckled in light conversation. He felt just as nervous as the man across from him, and he wasn't meeting anyone for the first time. "We've heard about you as well."

"As much as the girls can get, that is," Druig amended as he pulled out a chair and immediately slouched down lazily in it. "I'm surprised we're even meetin' you, to be honest."

Dane gave Druig a look.

But he just shrugged, hands still in his jacket pockets, "T's never really been one to mix her different circles."

But Gil wasn't intimidated by the vague and slightly defensive statement. He smiled, "yeah, I guess that's Thena. I was surprised when she suggested I join you guys, too."

Dane fidgeted with his napkin on his lap. "H-How's the cookbook business going? That's how you met, I hear."

Gil tilted his head, as if already catching some of Thena's habits for himself. He let a dreamy kind of smile warm him from the inside out. "Yep--walked right into her office and discovered the mark on my shoulder wasn't bullshit after all."

Druig raised a brow at him, but didn't interject.

"The book's almost ready to print, so she tells me," Gil continued, coming out of his shell a little more so long as Thena was the topic of discussion. "I tried to convince her to be in some of the photos but she said that would be silly."

Dane couldn't help but smile at the slight pout on Gil's face. It was such an innocent expression in contrast to the biceps bulging in his t-shirt sleeves as he crossed his arms.

"T acts like she's allergic to fuckin' photos," Druig snorted out a laugh. He gave Gil a curious look as he laid the bait, "at least with us."

"Well," Gil blushed faintly, toying with his phone in his hands as if itching to show them but holding himself back. "I've managed to sneak her into a few. At first they were just for me, but I managed to get her to agree let me use one or two on the restaurant's instagram."

Dane and Druig immediately pulled out their phones under the table to look.

"It's only--hey!"

Druig and Dane also rushed to stand as their girlfriends finally arrived together. Their greetings were brief and comfortable, although all four of them were watching from the side at the real point of intrigue.

"Hey, Handsome," Thena said ever so softly, probably only intended for Gil to hear.

He caught her hand en route to his, clasping it gently and bringing it up to his lips, "hey, Beautiful."

All four of her friends just stared.

"How was your day?" Gil asked still in a hushed tone, taking her purse from her and slipping her coat off her shoulders and over his arm.

"Mm, uneventful," she recounted factually, letting his hands trail over her without a hint of her usual resistance to any physical contact.

"Come get off your feet," Gil nudged her into the booth seat where he had been sitting. "I warmed it up for you."

"Ew," Druig commented liberally, only to get slapped on both arms by Sersi and Makkari on either side of him. "Oi!"

"Sorry we're late," Sersi fluffed her hair out of her scarf as she took a seat across from Dane and beside Thena.

Her fault, Makkari pointed out freely on the other side of the blonde and across from her own soulpair.

"Don't worry about it, we just got here," Gil replied blithely, not mentioning that he had been here long enough before Druig and Dane to actually secure a booth seat for all of them.

Thena's eyes rose to Gil's. He gave a positively tiny shrug, to which she replied with an even slighter shake of her head. Both messages got across regardless as she looked down at her menu. "What's good, here?"

"I've had the risotto before, which was lovely," Sersi leaned over, pointing out each item she and Dane had eaten before.

Makkari, from the other side of her, tapped the calamari, would you share some with me? Druig won't eat it.

Thena just nodded, to Kari's utter delight. She looked up at Gil, "hm?"

"Hm," he made the sound right back at her, almost as if it were an answer on its own. He leaned forward though, "you could try the mac and cheese."

The rest of the table traded looks (which they thought were subtle, and most definitely were not).

"I know, I know," Gil laughed, although Thena hadn't looked skeptical of his recommendation at all. "It seems simple, but I've had it here before, and it's surprisingly impressive for how it sounds."

"Go on," Thena nodded, happy to listen to Gil talk about his second favourite thing to talk about: food.

The rest of the table remained confused.

"I've worked with the guy in the kitchen now," Gil obliged, he and Thena staring at only each other across the table. "He makes the bechamel with smoked paprika instead of nutmeg, so it gets this smokey and really faintly sweet undertone. Then, while he makes the roux, he adds lobster stock instead of just milk, so it's actually pretty light for such a creamy dish. It's a little like marry-me chicken, in that sense."

"A little like what?" Dane blurted out.

Thena just nodded at the explanation, though. "That does sound lovely."

"I'm gonna get the balsamic chicken, so you can try some of that, too!"

Druig looked at Makkari, who shrugged. Thena wasn't really a sharer of food, either. One time he had tried to steal a a bite off her plate without asking and had nearly lost a finger for it.

"That's perfect," she continued to just smile at him as if they were the only ones present. "Thanks, Handsome."

The big guy blushed again.

Druig leaned back in his seat to look at Dane past Gil's back. "I don't think I can eat after th-oi!"

Thena made no apology for kicking Druig under the table.

#Passing Notes AU #thank you so much Anon!#I really do love it and I'm glad that you did too!#consider this an epilogue of sorts #since I really did mean to let the rest of the gang meet Gil #and then just never could get it to fit in this particular story #although in some drafts he actually met her while they were all there for it #anyway here's wonderwall #I love Dane and want to include him in more things #he's so funny #and he is also very sweet and gentle hearted #he and Druig here like that can't possibly be Thena's new boyfriend #and instead they meet the malewife of all malewives #Gil holds Thena's purse and her coat for her #he knows exactly how to secretly pay for them all without anyone knowing #they all protest but he says it's just this once so he could impress Thena's friends #Makkari is like your OUR friends now #😈#but Gil is delighted his girlfriend's friends like him #Thena is like of course they would #her and Gil making eyes at each other the whole time

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kan-be · 2 days

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and there’s a special kind of sadness that seems to come with spring

it’s blorbo’s birthday yay 🥳 🥳🥳

#and since I missed the 8th this year I must redeem myself at least in some way…….#insert that one tumblr post ppl who celebrate fictional character birthdays are annoying pass it on #on another note #not me listening to south london forever for the umpteenth time thinking mmmm college au 🤤🤤🤤#aph england #hws england #hetalia #also not to be rude to myself or him #actually no #to be #he reminds me of that one lady gaga meme #she’s meditating guys #she’s died

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.

On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.

They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.

The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.

They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.

"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.

He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.

Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.

The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.

"Can we talk?"

Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."

Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."

"Enlighten me, Harrington."

"C'mon, man, the notes!"

"What about them?

"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."

He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.

"I've always known it was you," he says.

"You don't--wait what?"

I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."

"How??"

"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"

And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.

"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).

He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.

Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.

Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.

Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.

All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.

This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.

"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.

"Babysitting?

"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.

A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.

(Part 2)

(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)

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rinchdressing · 4 months

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klapollo baseball/photographer au

#klapollo #ace attorney #apollo justice #klavier gavin #apollo justice ace attorney #um so basically. you know that line in turnabout succession where apollo talks about passing notes to a crush #well in the jp version he references baseball #and fun fact: in highschool i did all of the yearbook coverage for one of our softball teams. which was an insane thing to assign to a baby #gay such as myself #so this spawned from a combination of those things #so if we’re being very technical this is a high school baseball player/yearbook photographer au. but high school aus aren’t really my thing #so they can be older idk i didn’t put that much thought into it

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 10 months

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Ok, this is mostly bc I realized we've only seen Sally being passive, but how is she able to hypothetically rip apart larger puppets limb from limb? (if the captions with Howdy hold water with other puppets)

(Slight Mutilation Warning Ahead: Puppet Edition)

they absolutely hold So Much water! it's a combination of a couple things!

a) Nightlight!Sally is really Strong. i'd liken to her to a chimp, as much as i hate them. despite being smaller than people, they're absurdly powerful. when it comes to Her, this comes from a mix of hysterical strength and something Else i've been pondering but don't want to solidify yet, so shh dont worry bout it. it's also much easier to tear fleece & cotton/stuffing than, uh, Biological materials.

b) none of the puppets are really prepared for violence? they've lived in an idyllic world where true, visceral violence likely hasn't even been a Thought in anyone's minds. like, you watch videos of people get attacked by like... raccoons or rats and they visibly Lose because they panic! they aren't prepared! they don't wanna fight! so the much smaller creature wins. They Don't Know How To Fight, Or Fight Back.

b.1) also, Nightlight!Sally is still... Sally. she's still their dear friend. i know that if a close friend attacked me, i'm not sure i'd be able to bring myself to do much other than defend/flee. i wouldn't wanna hurt them even if it meant protecting myself. hence why Wally avoids all confrontation with her & can't protect his friends from her. he can't hurt his neighbor.

b.2) there's also the shock factor. imagine you wake up from a pleasant dream to an absolute nightmare reality. Boom, automatically thrown way off your rhythm. then one of your close buddies looks Fuckin Weird, Are You Okay? and other crazy shit is happening! you're freaking out!! then your Close Friend Who's Off is suddenly slashing at you and BOOM, your arm's gone & your entire brain is scrambled from shock and fear and "?!?!?!?!?!". plus, i doubt the puppets know they're full of stuffing. seeing yourself sliced open and white fluff spilling out has gotta be just. so Unpleasant on principle.

c):

CLAWS BABEY! RIP TEAR AND SHRED! those sharp grippers are perfect for piercing and ripping! puppet fleece is Paper to her!

her fighting method is attack wildly until the threat stops making noise! it's very hard to defend oneself from it! imagine those cartoon bits where a cat attacks someone and its just a Flurry of Unbeatable Violence

#if it helps. barnaby goes back to sleepytown immediately after this #so he's safe. as safe as he can be.#i would Also like to note that to My Interpretation/Understanding the puppets can't feel actual pain #i believe this for several reasons!#but for this au specifically im gonna make that a thing for Different Reasons on top of the Main Reasons #anyway anyway #the barnaby-sally attack in my head happens Directly after he tries to help her #its already a chaotic scene but he thinks theres something wrong with her for Obvious Reasons #and runs to her to try and snap her out of her apparent daze #and then WHAM arms gone. barely gets a chance to process #meanwhile wally is hiding curled into a little ball with his hands over his ears #bc he Cant Help and he Doesnt Want To Listen #if this makes you sad! oops! sorry! i have a softer scribble queued up for later today if that makes up for it #wh lights out au #scribble salad #i am Also taking into consideration clown's post about the neighbors playing splatoon. iykyk <3 #alright its 6 am im going to sleep #meant to pass out Hours ago but that didnt happen!#ah fuck wait cant sleep yet starships just started playing. ninki minjaj...

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coffeebrownn · 10 months

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fucked up teeth gang(?)

#eveline with gapped tetth and chris with visible canine.. 🥺❤#the note is if you see eyepatched eveline that means she survived/alive passed the re7 event #my small silly au...#also her hair is so fun to draw she's really cute 😭#CHRIS HOWEVER... UAHAHSHHSHSN #canine teeth.. 🥺❤#he's really a 🐻#IT JUST FITS HIM...#resident evil #re #rebhfun #re7 #re8 #eveline #chris redfield #doodle #my art

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mnemov · 3 months

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More fantasy au with Sam Mason

#mnemo’s notes #danny phantom fandom #danny phantom prompt #fantasy au #fae au #sam mason #yay Sam joined the gang!#now time to draw Tucker #tho I might ended up doing it later since I feel like passing out #I wanna sleep #danny phantom

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infini-tree · 6 months

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according to a cursory search, an aries-libra friendship are a complete opposites scenario but ultimately compatible which is. incredibly funny in relation to this au.

(something quick based on jackie's post on captain's birth "become real"-day)

#mells draws a thing #captain underpants #sticky notes au #i think i had it at sept 1 as a reference to the books but i won't pass up a chance to draw the him :]

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journey-to-the-attic · 2 months

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3rd anni req 2: [DRAGON AU] mammon / first encounter

ao3 link

note: requested by @whensam! i have to admit, i was hoping this'd pop up. i know i can write what i want, but i always feel i need an excuse anyway. you didn't indicate a preference for pov and i also just ended up wanting to do both, so this is a little longer than expected as a result!

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

Baker's children don't make good hunters. We’re used to carrying sacks of flour, not sprinting across fields with pitchfork-wielding mobs in hot pursuit. We don't make good kindling, either, but that hasn't stopped about half the adults in the village - for shame, I'd say, if I had the breath to speak.

Here's the thing. Our village isn't exactly a popular spot by any definition of the term. We're too far from any big cities to make good business, we don't make much worth selling, and the people certainly aren't charming enough to warrant a detour.

More important, though, are the creatures we share land with. Through the grassland that border the crop fields, there are invisible lines drawn in the soil - ones that no one crosses.

These lines mark dragon territory, and everyone knows that a dragon would sooner eat you for breakfast than stop for a reasonable conversation. Reasonable conversation is not something I have the luxury of at the moment, which is why I’m already several hundred paces over the line.

Just fifty already takes you into the forest. I don’t hear footsteps in pursuit anymore - they’d have to be mad to follow me so far in, which is exactly what I'd been banking on. The issue now is that, rather than being pitchforked, or burnt at the stake, I’ll probably just get eaten instead.

I pick my way through rotting leaf litter and ridged roots before collapsing against an old oak, wondering if the moisture dripping from overhead is safe to drink - or at least to wash my mouth out with. Gnawing through rope seems like a clever idea until your teeth start bleeding.

I can’t stay here, I think. Dying now would be like letting them win. Then Dad will have smacked the alderman for no reason.

Just as I get back to my feet, something whooshes overhead. I freeze. Those wings were larger than any bird I’ve ever seen.

Surely it couldn’t see me through the leaves. I crouch low to the ground and try to hide in the undergrowth - the wingbeats disappear until all I can hear is distant birdsong.

At least they’re having a nice day. I duck my head and trudge through a hedge - and come face to face with a dragon.

“Argh!”

I leap backwards. Bad move. The sunlight falls across its pointed face just in time for me to watch its pupils expand into full moons, like a cat on the hunt.

It doesn’t pounce. It doesn’t charge, snap or growl. It creeps slowly, eyes fixed on me the whole way forward, as if making sure I know that I can’t escape.

Nowhere to run. I press my back against a wizened old pine and shut my eyes tight - throwing out an arm, as if that might shield me.

Nothing happens. Then something cold presses into my palm.

My eyes snap open. The dragon blinks down at me. Its eyes are such a deep shade of blue that it’s almost dizzying. Oh. Oh, okay.

Its - his? I wonder, noting the ridges on his nose - snout rests carefully in my palm. He seems to register me staring at him, and snorts. The hot air is just on the brink of scalding, but not quite enough to hurt.

Then, almost experimentally, he opens his mouth - a yawning chasm of teeth, poised as if to ever-so-gently bite off my head. Except he doesn’t do that. There’s no pain - no crunch of broken bone or split sinew - far from it. The dragon leans down, carefully hooks his teeth into the collar of my shirt, and takes off.

I’d have screamed if it wasn’t for all the air leaving my chest at once. The forest shrinks to a dark blanket beneath us faster than I can even register it happening, and I realise very quickly that I’d be dashed to bits if I so much as slipped.

Wyvern, says an unhelpful voice in the back of my head as we soar. The dragon’s white-and-gold wings blot out the sun, but they’re so brilliant that it’s hard to tell the difference. They’re good fliers.

Before long, the dragon lands - legs first, digging his talons deep into the soil as he skids to a stop. After a moment, he huffs, then (strangely gently) drops me in a heap on the stony ground.

There’s a rumble, a swoosh - then several thuds, a swoosh of wings. I watch a shadow fall over my field of vision, then slowly raise my head.

Oh, I think a little faintly.

All sorts of colours, all sorts of demeanours. One in particular steps forward - dark, with crimson eyes, and the sort of air about him that tells me he's the leader. Boss, I'll call him, if only to settle my own nerves. The dragon that brought me here (Goldie, I decide, still trying to settle my breathing) steps forward with a sort of chirrup in greeting.

It's a spectacle, if nothing else. Here are seven dragons, horns and wings and all. I've heard cautionary tales and horror stories, but they never really tell you how majestic they look in real life - scales shinier than any jewel I could imagine. Marvels of creatures, really. If only I had the wits to appreciate it.

Boss is growling now - there's a sort of heat rolling off him in waves. Some of the feeling coming back to my numb legs.

If only I knew what they were saying...

It isn’t often that the forest bears treasure - usually it’s all very boring things, like meat and berries and leaves. To be fair, Mammon's used to treasure of the shiny, golden kind - not this weird little critter crouched against a tree.

It smells faintly of smoke and burnt wheat. He stalks closer, but he's testing it more than anything - it doesn’t look like any prey he’s familiar with.

When he gets close, it sticks out a little starfish-shaped appendage and closes its eyes. He smells bitter fear now.

Is it greeting him? Telling him it isn’t a threat? That’s smart. He thought only dragons could be smart, but it’s not behaving - nor does it look - like any dragon he's ever met.

So he returns the greeting with his snout. He half expects to be stung, like the time Asmo brought that little spidery thing home, but all the critter does is look up at him fearfully.

Interesting. On a whim, he scoops the little round thing off, and decides to take it back home.

The weird not-prey goes still as soon as he takes off. Once home, he lets it disembark (drops it on the floor, though he tries to be gentle), then looks up to face his brothers as they land around him.

The others decide to keep their distance. Lucifer is the first to plod forward and investigate.

He sniffs carefully at the air, then makes a crackling noise somewhere at the base of his throat - which isn't usually a good sign.

“That’s a human, Mammon," He says, glaring at the little critter. It’s still sitting, frozen.

“It’s a what?”

“What’d you bring that for? Stupid.” Belphie settles back on his haunches, blowing out a puff of frost. “Can’t go around snatching humans. We’ll get hunted. Stupid.”

“Shut up,” He grunts. “And I didn’t snatch it. Found it walkin’ around in the forest.”

“That’s impossible,” Satan says nearly immediately. His tail swishes back and forth - slow and deliberate, an analytical glint in his clever eyes. “They don’t let their young anywhere near us.”

“Well, whaddya call this, then?”

The human - apparently - suddenly seems to regain use of its limbs. Springing to its feet (Levi shrinks back, crest flattering over his head), it stumbles for a moment, then abruptly ducks under one of Mammon's wings.

The rest of his brothers - who'd similarly drawn back - relax again with a simultaneous murmur of vague confusion. Mammon blinks. Then his tail starts flicking at the end - like it always does when he's pleased.

“...you are not keeping it,” Lucifer says, looking as if he'd very much like to fly off into the sunset.

“It might have a disease!” adds Asmo.

“I don’t care what any of ya say,” Mammon says stubbornly, snapping at Beel when it looks like he might creep in for a bite. “I’m not sendin’ it back to the forest. It’ll be dead in a day.”

"It might be dangerous," Levi hisses. "It's totally giving me the evil eyes."

"Stop scaring it, then,” Mammon says loftily. “Relax, ya big baby - You’ve got teeth bigger than its whole head.”

“You are not keeping it,” Lucifer says again, as if repeating himself will make him sound more in charge.

“Pfft. Can’t tell me what to do.” He snaps at Beel again. “Oi! No bitin’! Go raid your stash or something.”

Beel’s horns seem to droop a little. “...fine. C’mon, Belphie.”

“I was busy,” complains Satan with a huff as the twins flap off. "This is boring. I've seen deer carcasses more interesting than that weird little thing."

"Go look at your stinkin' carcasses, then," Mammon shoots back, fighting the impulse to spit something at him.

Satan does exactly that. Levi soon slinks off as well, apparently still intimidated - and Asmo seems to have disappeared as soon as he decided the human wasn't going to make a good accessory.

Lucifer, meanwhile, stands his ground. His tail is beginning to lash in agitation. If Mammon’s lucky, maybe he’ll even start spitting fire.

“I'm not gonna eat it,” He says stubbornly.

“I wasn't going to tell you to,” Lucifer replies, but he sounds very much like he’s considering it. “Belphie was right. If a hunter sees us with one of their young, they’ll take it as a threat.”

“Like we wouldn’t win,” He scoffs, sitting down with a thump. "Anyway,don't ya smell the fire on it?"

A single scarlet eye narrows a little. Evidently he hadn't - though Lucifer's always smelling smoke, by virtue of the literal furnace in his chest, so he can't really be blamed for not noticing.

The human is peeking out from beneath his wing with a little more bravado now. Lucifer eyes its round little face as if it might start spitting poison at him.

"...humans don't usually try to set fire to their young," Lucifer says after a moment. "You're sure she doesn't have anywhere to go?"

"Wouldn't've been in the forest if it— uh, she did." He glances down. "C'mon! Not like we don't have the space."

Lucifer is silent. Then he gives a long-suffering sigh - sending a plume of dark blue smoke into the sky - and bends down to the human’s eye level again.

“Will you behave?” Lucifer asks her severely, as if she can understand dragon-speak.

The human child blinks up at him. Then she reaches up and plants a hand on his snout.

Mammon holds his breath. After a moment, Lucifer’s wings flutter, then settle.

“I’m not having any part in this,” He announces, stepping back. “This is to be your responsibility only. Don't make any trouble for your brothers. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He says dismissively, occupied with keeping his triumph from showing in his tail. Got it.”

Lucifer glances down at the human one final time. “...take care of her.”

And off he flaps - to attend to his usual nighttime duties. He says he's keeping watch for danger, but mostly they seem to involve gazing darkly into the sunset.

With his brothers dispersed, Mammon takes a moment to actually consider his situation. He doesn’t actually know what taking care of a human child involves. He doesn’t know much about humans in general - it’s not like he usually pays them any attention. Maybe some of his brothers could give him some advice… if any of them were interested in the kid’s well-being, at least.

They’ll come around, He decides after a moment, unfurling his wings and attempting to nudge the human in the general direction of their living caves. First, I gotta figure out what these things eat…

#3rd anni event #obey me #writing #dragon au #i mentioned this in the ao3 notes but it's crazy to me that it's been two years since dragon au started #like woa. time passes #jtta aus #obey me mammon #jtta ik #obey me brothers #(won't tag the others individually since they're not as prominent)#whensam

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minty-bunni · 2 years

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Okay, but stuntman Danny making one hell of an entrance into the world of professional stunts.

He skips over all the "small" stuff and heads immediately into "a human has a 99% chance of death if they attempt this" type stunts. Either he goes the Hollywood stuntman route (safer but popularity could ensure a paycheck there) or grows his own fanbase (doing way wilder stunts) with videosharing sites and public stunts.

Either way he just straight up goes "normal humans can do that, but I'm a superpowered crime against nature so I'm going to show them how it is done" and then immediately makes use of immortality/quick healing/powers. Just shoves himself in a woodchipper and walks away fine.

The episode in ZLS when Tae literally falls to pieces and the other girls put her back together while hiding the fact they are all zombies from an audience? Yes, he does that kind of stuff.

People mistake him for being an illusionist or some sort of magician when stuff like that happens and his secret never gets revealed because who would think a guy flaunting his ability to survive stuff would actually be dead?

#danny phantom #stuntman danny au #for reference zls is zombieland saga and it involves a necromancer turned idol producer and his zombie idols #only they have to hide being zombies which is hard because their limbs sometimes pop off and they need makeup to look living #they passed a girl's head popping off during an early performance as a magic trick once #i'm saying the type of undead chaos that goes on there? definitely stuntman Danny territory #what is with me and undead body horror characters masquerading as happy living people #i know I have talked about danny becoming a stuntman on multiple occasions #but I think the boy deserves some chaos and to use his powers for a little fun #500 notes #750 notes

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bonefall · 8 months

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Two questions! What's Leopardstar doing after her death? She got dammed so hard that there was a comet in the sky iirc, and Starclan happily gave Mistystar her lives, so I imagine that Lep is PISSED that her murderer is being welcomed as a hero, while she's rotting in the DF. I would like to know how she feels about Tigerstar's plans, since BB Lep was an active supporter of his idealology

I thiiiink the fallen star thing was a joke, but it is a very funny image to think that any damned spirit becomes one tbh

But actually! Leopardstar and Mudclaw are both kind of ashamed of what they did. Leopardstar is more resigned to her fate, while Mudclaw eventually decides he wants to atone and gets involved with the StarClan bridge.

Being around Tigerstar and a bunch of the worst offenders of TigerClan has brought a lot of it back. Distance had made her begin to feel that there was no need to "throw the kitten out with the tonguewash." Tigerstar himself was bad, yes... but is it *really* so wrong to want a pure, strong Clan? What's wrong with putting RiverClan first?

But now she's back under his claw. Being spoken over, used as a pawn, just like old times. She hasn't confronted the CORE of how her ideology is bad, but she does remember know how humiliating this situation was, and how terrible Tigerstar really is.

But at the same time, she is proud. She cannot let Mistystar go unpunished. She wants "revenge," though, to her "revenge" is a rematch.

On the day she died, Mistystar attempted to poison Leopardstar's food, in a way unintentionally similar to how Leopardstar poisoned Crookedstar before them. So she recognized it right away. It struck her in that moment that she was sick of these dirty, dishonorable tactics.

So she pushed it aside, leapt to the top of the stump, and announced that she had learned of a pack of vicious rogues on the border. "Mistyfoot and myself will confront them. Alone. Don't follow."

Mistystar only won the fight through luck. There was a stone in the river where they fought, and she smashed Leopardstar's head on it until she stopped moving.

So, Leopardstar uses this in her death to hold a grudge. I think on some level she knows it's an excuse, or perhaps a quirk of her pride, that she feels her death was unfair. She believes she gave leadership to Mistystar by covering for her own murder-- and she WANTS that perfect fight.

But before the BOTTE, I plan for her to have a conversation with her apprentice. Hawkfrost's arc is to break free of his father and his legacy... and he needs to speak to his proud, strong leader, who he comes to realize is being used like a tool.

It's another step in his revelation about cycles. How he was used, how he's done the same thing to Ivypool, how people have been doing this to his loved ones long before he was born.

#Now and then I see a passing sentiment of frustration towards writers who write fic where black gets redeemed but leopard doesnt #But understand this; I LOVE Leopardstar.#And I thought a lot about the story I was gonna tell in my redux of TNP #And this story works better with her. Largely because of her supporting cast #Between Misty Sedge Hawk Moth and Storm #They all come together to tell this story much better than Black Russet and Tawny can #And on a less important note... I hate how much they tried to soften Leopard. With all of her supporting material #But ive gone off about her before and im sure I will again lmao #But shes MY spotted mean girlboss and you will pry her from my cold dead hands #LET GIRLS BE PROUD. LET GIRLS BE CONSUMED BY IT #Better bones au #BB!Leopardstar

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even-disco-baby · 1 year

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SOLA — Her Innocence, Sola— the anti-innocence— turns to face you. In the distance, you hear the tattoo of propellers, turning, sucking all the air. A strong wind whips her long, dark hair around her face. Her simple black gown billows behind her. The same gown she wore the day she resigned.

She has your eyes.

“Hi, Kim,” she says simply. “You don’t look well.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — Her voice is so familiar, and yet the moment she stops speaking, you cannot recall its sound, no matter how hard you try. And you have tried. Innumerable times.

AUTHORITY — What makes her think she would even *know* the difference between you looking well or unwell? She’s being presumptuous. She doesn’t even know you.

INLAND EMPIRE — She never will.

“I’m doing great, actually. Never been better.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best.”

“I’m *not* well. I’m so fucking unwell. I can’t take it anymore. Please, help me…”

“I’ll live.”

SOLA — “Hm…” She smiles apologetically. “Well, that’s all we can really ask for anymore, isn’t it?”

EMPATHY — She wishes more than anything that this was not the case. That you could ask for the world and have it.

RHETORIC — She tried to give it to you, and this is how you repay her? You’re gonna be in *deep* shit trying to explain that insignia you stitched onto her jacket.

“Um, about the jacket. It’s not what it… well, no, it *is* what it looks like. But I don’t— it’s— there’s nuance.”

“Is that really all you have to say to me?”

“I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Where are you going?”

SOLA — Her Innocence looks away from you, toward the wind. “Away,” she says, her voice distant and strange. “Yes… I’m stepping down, you see. The world doesn’t need me. It never needed me, really. It’s best for humanity to think for itself. No… it already *does* think for itself.”

She turns back to you with a small smile. The thought brings her peace.

PAIN THRESHOLD — But what does it bring *you?* She’s leaving you forever. Abandoning you for lofty ideals.

AUTHORITY — Let her go. Let her see how little you care. Don’t give her any satisfaction.

HALF LIGHT — Stop her. You won’t be able to live without her.

VOLITION — You have already lived almost all your life without her. You don’t need her. You have *never* needed her.

“What if the world *does* need you? Who are you to make that decision for the entire world?”

“Fine. Go. It’s none of my business.”

“So you’re just going to leave me behind again.”

“Please, don’t go. *I* need you.”

SOLA — “What else is an Innocence appointed to do?” Her smile turns wry. “You see? This is why I’m stepping down.”

Distant propellers turn and turn in endless circles. She glances toward them.

YOU — “Fine. Go. It’s none of my business.”

SOLA — “I suppose not.” Her voice and her face betray nothing. No sign of remorse.

YOU — “So you’re just going to leave me behind again.”

SOLA — “That was never my intention,” she says softly. “Surely you know that.”

INLAND EMPIRE — You will never truly know. No one will.

SOLA — She stares out at the horizon through the tendrils of hair that almost seem to threaten to swallow her. Her expression is strange and ambiguous, shifting every time you try and look directly at it.

YOU — “Please, don’t go. *I* need you.”

SOLA — She looks at you, and her eyes are full of what might be genuine sadness. But they could also be full of anything else.

“Oh, Kim… You must make do with what you have. I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

RHETORIC — What?! There are a million other things she could say! Forty-one years worth of possibilities! She could say *anything!* Anything at all… Even if she’d only left you a single word, it would be better than this…

VOLITION — It’s pointless to wish. Please, no more of this. It’s too sad.

“You could say that you’re sorry.”

“Say that I turned out all right.”

“Say that you’re proud of me. That you love me.”

SOLA — “Then I’m sorry.” She closes her eyes. “It was terrible of us to leave you alone.”

Her voice is utterly calm and emotionless.

PAIN THRESHOLD — No… Wrong, all wrong…

YOU — “Say that I turned out all right.”

SOLA — “You’re a good man despite it all. That is all I ever hoped for you.”

Again, there is no warmth to her words. No conviction.

VOLITION — Lieutenant… Please, don’t do this to yourself.

YOU — “Say that you’re proud of me. That you love me.”

SOLA — “I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. You wear that jacket well.”

Her eyes have nothing behind them. A pair of two millimeter holes in the world.

“I love you.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — Your lungs seem to constrict at her words. Your chest hurts more than it’s ever hurt. This wind is hard to breathe in.

YOU — “No! Don’t you fucking get it?! You don’t love me!”

SOLA — “Then I don’t love you.”

YOU — “You should be *ashamed* of me!”

SOLA — “Then I am ashamed.”

YOU — “I betrayed you! I betrayed everything you stood for! I’m a fucking cop!”

SOLA — “Then I am betrayed.”

She proclaims it as dispassionately as she proclaimed her love.

YOU — “For god’s sake, *say something real!*”

SOLA — She just looks at you. The propellers keep on turning.

DRAMA — She can’t speak for herself, sire…

LOGIC — Of course she can’t. Of course…

PAIN THRESHOLD — Your lungs feel like they could collapse. Empty, crumpled, dark. Hot tears prick your eyes for the first time in what feels like a long time.

SOLA — “Do you understand now?” she asks gently.

LOGIC — She cannot speak for herself because you do not know what she would say.

There are many memories that you have been slowly recovering, little by little. Your mother will never be one of them. Her, the revolution, the aerostatic brigade— they all died before you could even comprehend loss.

AUTHORITY — You did not become a detective so that you could find your lost mother. You became a police officer because you did not want to end up like her.

VOLITION — She can neither forgive you, nor condemn you. She is dead, Lieutenant. She can only be what you make her.

RHETORIC — You’re asking your own echo for answers…

SOLA — “Humanity must think for itself,” she says again, turning again toward the wind. “What point is there in asking me where to go from here? I’m a failure. We all failed…”

RHETORIC — The revolutionaries failed their children, and the children are failing their parents, and all of them are dying, dying, dead… What’s the point in any of this anymore? I cannot argue in favor of any of it.

VOLITION — There is a point. There is a way forward. But you won’t find it here, Lieutenant.

“I hate you. You made me everything I am and then you just *left.*”

“I miss you… How is it even possible to miss someone you never met? It’s like someone ripped a part of me out and all I can do is bleed.”

“I don’t know what I am. I need you to tell me what I am.”

SOLA — One last time, she turns back to you. She slowly bridges the gap between you and reaches out a hand to cup your cheek. Her fingers feel like your own.

“You are whatever kind of animal you choose to be,” she says, so quietly that you don’t know how you can hear it over the distant roar of engines. “I cannot make that choice for you.”

EMPATHY — She died hoping that you would grow up with the freedom to choose to be whatever you wanted. Instead, the world that raised you hardly let you dare to want anything.

VOLITION — But you can still make a choice. Humanity can still think for itself.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #swap au #should i tag sola? i kinda doubt i’ll ever need to use that tag again LMAO #anyway um. yeah.#tbh as fun as the swap au stuff is i wasn’t all that interested in it until my brain was like. SWAP DREAM SEQUENCE #and now suddenly i have like. lore for swap kim.#his breakdown isn’t bc of a breakup it’s over a crisis of identity #at first when he wakes up and starts inspecting stuff like his jacket and his notes #he starts finding out things abt his mother (a revolutionary aerostatic pilot who died and passed down the jacket to him)#and at first he’s like ohh i see im investigating her disappearance!#but he’s not. she’s dead. she died when the moralintern crushed the commune #kim grew up resenting both his parents for dying in a failed revolution #leaving him to grow up alone as a gay disabled seolite orphan #he became a cop and drank the moralist koolaid bc he didn’t want to be like his parents #and also bc he wanted to not be so powerless (and to be able to take shit out on other ppl just like canon kim)#but also just like in canon his experience in the rcm was just more of the same shit #he felt constantly humiliated and like a hypocrite and just compartmentalized hardcore #then he came to martinaise and saw the scars of the failed revolution and finally just snapped and broke down #he doesn’t even know what kind of animal he is other than he doesn’t want to be it anymore #so he pulls harry’s epic mind wipe binge and etc etc #anyway. coughs

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