#and messing around with that decimal shade

[omnxnom]

some IDW silver redraws/doodles! he's a super cutie

based on these panels!

[littleapplle]

21:21.

cw.: nothing, really. my own interpretation of rafayel's behavior so... maybe a bit ooc. my man is a puzzle I can't seem to figure out. I wrote this in an hour, so it's ass. I just really wanted to post something. sorry </3 not proofread. 754 w.

There's something therapeutic about watching Rafayel paint, you think. He doesn't mention it, but you know it is a privilege to see him this vulnerable in his studio.

"I painted it just because. There is no meaning behind it.” Liar. Painting was his way to silently curse and scream at the world for decimating his people for its own sadistic fun and curiosity. Careful brushstrokes bloom into oceanic sceneries that any collector would judge as disturbing. The side of his thumb and pinky, often used for sharp details, stained with crimson dye, stain the tormented sea with dramatic strokes, diluted in the dark waters.

It's a way to find grounding once again, to keep him on his feet. For so long, Rafayel has been terrified of vulnerability and intimacy, scared he'd show fragility to someone and that they'd leave once more like an unending cycle of torture.

So when Thomas visits the studio without warning, trying to catch Rafayel off-guard, Rafayel drops his brush and refuses to keep painting until he's gone. It comes off as pettiness but as an artist, Rafayel is on an eternal performance with himself and his trauma.

You were quick to learn that nothing with Rafayel is superficial. You need time and patience to read him. Like he's a poem of tragic words and complex sentences you have to reread a thousand times to maybe get a glimpse of what the author thought.

He comes off as petty because he's scared. He uses drama as the pitiful curtains of his stage, trying to hide the shameful mess that lies behind them in the dark.

And as scared as he is, terrified that you might dissolve into sea foam and leave him for a millenia, he lets you in. Finally, the person he has been devoted to for as long as he can remember sees him through an act he doesn't even notice putting up with. A fragile mask falls but it isn't terrifying, it's relieving. Like a breath he has been holding on and never noticed.

Rafayel lets you see every facade of his. You enter his studio whenever you feel like it, the spare key with a cute and red round fish keychain is always on your bag. Just in case. You have free access to any of his sketchbooks and messy art pieces around every corner of his home. Rafayel burns with passion, he wants to go slow, take his time until he's confident that you're here to stay, but he just can't. What's the point of hiding something from you?

While he's busy, you spend hours going through old journals with yellowed pages, pinching the slightly sticky papers with certain carefulness. You find multiple frustrated sketches and scribbles of a face that looks like a forgotten version of you. Like writing in sand that has been washed off by the waves.

Lost canvases hidden near the tall, dark wooden shelves of his living room have forgotten faces he no longer finds strength to repaint or finish. Other old and dusty books hold poems and letters in a language you can't really understand.

Rafayel grows used to having you around while he's painting and working. Raw emotions don't scare him so much. He humors you and lets you pose for him. He chats with you while he sits on his silly and tall stool. He lets you observe him while he feels bare.

And by your spot on his big couch, you watch the process carefully.

At first, he stretches. Cracking every joint he can remember and stretching his arms as high as he can. Then, with his current sketchbook in hand, he draws a quick, much bigger and messier version of his sketch on the raw canvas.

It's beautiful. He works gracefully, hypnotizing you with every movement. Quick and thin brushstrokes settle and he covers it with a thin layer of a light shade of paint.

He knows you stare but it isn't uncomfortable. Warmth fills his heart at the thought of having your eyes, heart and mind concentrated on him and his passion only.

And on your side, you feel honored to have him let you in so kindly, allowing you to see him naked and raw, filled with emotion.

A week later, you find the same canvas still leaning on his wall where he started it. Adorned with shiny pearls and lovely colors, this time, he gets your every feature right.

He could write unending words of worship about you, fill a thousand books with his love and cover hundreds of canvases with fervor but at the very corner of this one he just writes “Adoration, Rafayel Qi.” in elegant black lines.

⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)

[the-monkeies-girl]

I know we talk about just reader with Noa, but can you imagine like? Becoming a part of his group with Anaya and Soona? The four of you doing things together? Absolutely unbreakable?

Have some headcanons I can't stop myself ANYMORE.

Noa, Anaya & Soona / Reader - Friendship Headcanons.

Going climbing with them - Always a good time and Noa likes it when he carries you on his back. ( Shoutout to @nerdy-novelist017 for this idea, I promise I am writing a whole fic for it omg. ) He likes the feeling of your body against him and really likes that you trust him to do that. ~*Anaya decimates that for Noa ( BLOCKED essentially ) and convinces you to try on your own, laughing loudly when you were hanging upside down from a rusted beam, arms above your head, blood rushing to your face and making it appear just a shade darker. *~Noa having a heart-attack, thinking you're absolutely going to fall, Anaya is rooting you on and Soona is trying to get Anaya to stop and trying to get Noa to stop from absolutely dying at the situation as he tries to grab you and pull you down. All the while, you're just playing along with Anaya who pushes you like a swing, watching as you sway back and forth. *~ Anaya telling Noa that you're really tougher than you appear and that you don't need to be babied and for a second, as Noa watches you on the beam, anchoring enough to get yourself upwards to stand so you're not hanging upside down anymore, he thinks that maybe his friend is right. *~ Or... Maybe not. You mis-step, coming tumbling down onto a patch of grass, padded enough for the small drop from the beam, onto the ground with a soft 'umph' and a small plume of dirt. *~ Noa and Soona absolutely panic and run to you, followed by Anaya only to see that you're splayed flat on your back, arms and legs out like a starfish before raising your right arm, giving them a thumbs up while wheezing out a small laugh. Soona laughs slightly out of relief that you weren't injured, asking if you're okay and helping you off the ground. *~ Noa smacks Anaya upside the head for actually trying to convince him that you climbing around the ruins was a great idea.

Uhm Soona Braiding your hair? HELLO?!!? ~* Maybe it's for a ceremony of sorts that Noa is going to be conducting; think along the lines of blessing the young Apes who were about to go through their coming-of-age the next morning with their Eagle Eggs. This is first one since his father passed. He's incredibly nervous, worried he's going to mess up and has been secluded by himself for the entire day in preparation of not fumbling. ~* Soona asking you if it would be alright to dress your hair up. Just a few braids, she told you. It was symbolic in a way and she 100% tells you that Noa would appreciate it, knowing that the two of you have this unspoken feeling aspect to your relationship. ( She's trying to help. ) ~* You smile softly at her, letting her fingers transverse through your hair. She makes gentle comments about how thin it was compared to her own Ape fur, and even jokes that it must get cold, having most of your hair on your head and not along the rest of your body. You nod in agreement, telling her things about clothing and how it serves Echo's a purpose of insulation, to keep warm. ~* 100% Sneaks a few wooden beads and blue feathers into the intricacy of the braids. The Wooden beads? They're from Dar. Soona knows that Noa will recognize them. The blue feathers? They're from Eagle Sun. Noa's bird.

Anaya telling you things about Noa, about his childhood, some memories- much to the Eagle Clan's leaders bemusement. ~*Never any deep or dark secrets, but it's definitely ones that could be seen as embarrassing, especially since Noa did like you and did want to leave an impression. ~*Noa tends to stay quiet in these moments, but if he notices Anaya saying something that was incorrect, he does butt in and sarcastically fix the details for him. Usually garnering a rather mocking face from Anaya and Soona laughing, telling him to calm down and that Anaya was only telling a story; as long as the premise was true, the minute details that Noa could remember didn't matter in the grand scope. He definitely does it though to keep the story straight so you don't get the impression that he's well..................... Not a good match for you. ~*The way Anaya puts his stories always makes you laugh; he's got a knack for that, Noa noticed and smiles along with Anaya's voice as he's telling you about the time Noa had ultimately gotten his foot stuck in an ant hill when they were very young. Soona joins in and tells you the absolute panic that Noa went into. They begin talking over each other, recollecting the same memory in two different ways. Noa's transfixed watching you watch Anaya and Soona. He... He likes this; being surrounded by the three of you. By... By his family. ~*Moments later, that peaceful bliss that Noa was floating off into uncharted territory when Anaya told you that Noa got bit by the ants. In a lot of places. On his feet, up his leg, on his--- Noa had to stop Anaya from talking, quick to see where that was going. There was a tinge of red against your cheeks as you looked at at Noa, who looked back down at you after shutting Anaya up. Everyone knew where that was going- Anaya in his oblivious nature saying, "You... Should show Echo the scars. Maybe interested."

Soona occasionally has to tell Anaya to leave the two of you alone if she senses that you and Noa are having an intimate interaction. ~*He contemplates Soona's words but goes towards you anyway. You're all friends, what you were talking about had to be appropriate for the whole group. Right? RIGHT! ~* He is definitely more oblivious than Soona, and will find himself between the two of you, breaking apart the conversation you were having. ~* Soona giving Noa an apologetic look as she sits next to you. She tried to get Anaya to stop without flat out giving a reason, leaving it up to interpretation. ~* Noa then staring at Anaya as he starts talking to you before your eyes meet. He's empathetic with his eyes, telling you that the two of you an finish you conversation later.

Being gifted a necklace, very similar in nature to Soona's, by all three of them. ~* Happens after you had been with the Clan for a quite a bit of time. It was a symbol that you were now considered one of them, one of the Eagle Clan. ~* Soona feels like she's jumping out of her skin as you let her hands put it over your head, falling delicately onto your neck despite the rather bulky appearance of it. It was remarkably light, scaled down ever so slightly as you were smaller in stature compared to your friends. ~*Anaya thinks it looks great, and is quick to give you a compliment. He nudges Noa in the ribs with his elbow, encouraging his friend to say something. This was a gift from all of them! Not just Soona and Anaya. ~* Noa looks at you, suddenly dry mouthed. You smile at him, reaching your hand up to play along the delicate nature of the detailing and the pedants that fell right along the bridge of your collarbone. 'Looks...' He signed at you slowly, 'Good.' ~*Soona and Anaya end up watching the interaction carefully. Noa is nervous to give compliments to you, they note at the stance that Noa has, his shoulders slightly hunching in on himself. You're nervous to receive them, they note the way that your face stiffened before softening again at the acknowledgement of the words. ~*Definitely hits Anaya right then watching you and Noa that there was more going on than he initially sensed. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. Totally complains to Soona later that evening that she should have just told him that the two of you liked each other and Soona ultimately doesn't hear the end of it because Anaya felt left out.

[blankstation]

[It goes without saying that all of their pokémon are struggling. With one of their trainers missing and the other barely holding it together, unable to explain anything to the critters, they're all anxious; some depressed, some irritable. They do their best to maintain focus and follow Emmet's lead, but Engine and Snail especially seem to be having a difficult time. It makes sense. They were more partial to Ingo, after all, even if the twins regularly shared the work of taking care of them all, and traded pokémon between each other for battle. A good few members of their shared party did have preferences to one brother over the other.

A chain reaction started with Engine hovering in one particular spot of the central area of Gear Station, seemingly fixated on nothing. Her flames burned hotter as she flew aimlessly in circles, possibly searching, but never able to take any action, up until she would be inevitably redirected and led elsewhere. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the flooring itself, yet.. It is right around where Ingo's pokéballs were left scattered over the floor.

Engine took to doing this almost every time she was let out within the station. It wasn't a huge issue at first, outside of being incredibly disconcerting, until one day Snail abruptly takes notice to this. Being the smart little mole she is, she seems to draw her own conclusions from the behavior, and immediately, just moments after Engine is ushered away again, he slams his massive claws into the concrete and gets to work. She can decimate this floor if she wants to, and the ruckus of her slashing and drilling with little discretion alarms employees passing by, not to mention probably Emmet himself. She doesn't stop even as various trainers attempt to intervene, she's adamant, growling as she gets a divot into the floor- only to be cut short by getting withdrawn into her ball.

Now there's a mess to clean and a hole to patch.

Maybe it's best that all pokémon stay stored away until they reach the trains.

In the aftermath, Snail sits quietly with Emmet in his office once let out again. There's still grit on his claws. "...." She's curled up in a ball, off to the corner of the room. Bitterness seems to roll off of her in waves, frustrated to have been stopped when she truly believed she was so, so close to getting a lead on Ingo down there.]

[The sun beamed overhead, blotted out by a canopy of green trees. It should be hot out, but with the shade on them and a breeze going, it's very pleasant. Perfect fossil hunting weather!

Ingo and Emmet looked rather different back then; much smaller, scrappier. Back when Ingo was Circe, and Emmet was Linnea. Their hair came down to just above their shoulders, and the pair were dressed in complimentary colored overalls as they scampered through the forest with a wagon in tow, looking for a potential fossil deposit they haven't combed over yet. Eventually, they settled on a creek bed, the water level lower than usual in response to the summer heat.

They didn't like getting dirty all that much. The feeling of mud under fingernails could make either of them cringe, and making too much of a mess would make their parents fuss at them. For the sake of finding their first companion, though, it definitely had to be worth it.

"The book said fossils are usually close to water, yes?" Circe asked, swiping through clumps of mud and rocks, searching. "Why..? Not all fossil pokémon are water types."

"Yes." Linnea replied quietly, smiling over to her. "The sediment," She sat back on the grass, doing a little demonstration with her hands as Circe watches intently. Making a little flowing gesture with one hand, she tries to show how the running water carries sediment over fossils (reprisented by the other) and covers them.

"Oooh.. Right!" Circe chirped, scooping up a new handful of stones to look over. "Then this has to be the perfect spot- I think we'll find one this time! Full steam ahead!"

As the pair continued their search, Circe wound up moving further down along the creek, though the pair remained well within view of one another. Not much seemed to be happening, other than them finding a few particularly pretty rocks, before a rustling sound grabbed her attention. "Hmm...?" Circe got up and dusted herself off, trotting over towards the noise.

"Ah-- Linnea! LINNEA! Look!" She shouted suddenly, voice brimming with excitement. Linnea, of course, got up and scrambled over to see, but only just in time to catch a glimpse of something diving into the dirt. "Oh. I think I scared them.." ...Some things really never changed. Still, she called out again, at least softer this time. "I apologize, drilbur! I didn't mean to scare you."

The dirt shuffled before them for a minute or two. Linnea hugged her sister's arm, trying to comfort her dejected twin, both of them watching intently. Both of them let out a gasp of delight when the drilbur suddenly popped their head back up, blinking at the two suspiciously. "Brrrr?"

"Hello!" Circe's face lit up. Linnea shifted weight between her feet, her free arm swinging back and forth with barely contained excitement. "Why aren't you in a cave? Drilbur don't belong out here." She questioned, entirely unbothered by being unintentionally rocked back and forth by the movement.

"...." Drilbur lifted one arm above the dirt, showing off a marred claw. "Brbrr.." They whined.

Linnea pointed to the injury with a quiet "ow", and Circe nodded.

"You got hurt.. we can help!" Determination twinkled in her eyes, and she looked over to her twin for confirmation, getting an eager nod and smile in response. "We'll take you to the pokémon center! But when we're done, please help us find fossils!"

Drilbur looked between the girls. Their nose wiggled, whiskers twitching. After a moment, they chambered out of their little hole in the dirt and waddled over, peering up at the duo.

"YES-- BRAVO! Yay! Thank you!" Circe shouted again, hands flapping, while Linnea was bouncing up and down on her toes. Drilbur chirped the excitement.

They led the little critter to their wagon. "All aboard!" Their voices synced up as they helped drilbur on. The pair, now a dirt-covered trio, trekked off towards the nearest pokémon center. There, they could heal their new friend, maybe buy a pokéball to put them in, and return to their fossil hunting duties.

As they walked, Circe took notice to how strangely full Linnea's overall pocket was. "Linnea? Did you find something?"

She held her pocket open to reveal the contents.. which was a collection of rocks she'd picked up during her search, all either with interesting patterns, or bizarre formations.".. They are pretty." She murmured with a grin, picking one out and handing it to Circe. Then, she took another and placed it next to drilbur.]

[Snail lets out a loud sigh. Then slowly, he picks his head up to look at Emmet. Underneath the edge of his horn, you can get a glimpse of softness in her eyes, whiskers drooping. She ambles over to the man's side, sitting by his feet instead of the corner. "Wrrr..."

Whatever Emmet was remembering, Snail seemed to be remembering the same thing.]

ㅤ

[ The rocks upon the sand were gorgeous, but she had known better. She couldn't be sure that her sibling would realize, all caught up in the excitement with her new friend. But the stone in her hands was a deep purple, almost seeming to engulf the sunlight with shadow like a black hole. The stone still hidden in Linnea's pocket sparked in her grasp, still charged from the waves that crashed over it.

The little orb handed over to the Drilbur was almost perfectly round, glowing with an orange inner ring.

They would be perfect for them, she thought. And perfect they were. ]

... I’m sorry.

( he laughs, wiping his eyes dry with his arm. caught acting so unprofessionally when there's people to make smile.

when he has pokémon to make smile. )

I’m being such a downer, huh .ᐣ I’m fine .ᐟ Promise.

( he reaches down, running has hand along the horn on snail's head. the cold steel seeping through his glove nearly makes him tear up again ... how silly of a thing to get worked up over. )

Sorry about having to cut your line short back there, too. But the money for the repairs is coming out of my own pockets. Not to mention how much of a safety hazard it is.

( his tone is deceptively light as he gives snail a few more pats, before sitting back up. from on his desk wuppertal squacks at him inquisitively, head tilted to the side. he likes to be above the ground, but no longer fits on emmet's head. seriously! emmet didn't know he'd grow to be that huge.

he reaches over to pet the archeops' head, his smile and sigh wistful. )

[ “Oof — .ᐟ” Linnea went crashing to the ground, the walk back home completely disrupted. Mom is totally gonna ask how she managed to get the entire front of her white (but mostly stained) outfit caked in dirt. From in front of her was an alarmed call of her name, and behind her was a worried squeak. “I’m okay .ᐟ” she’d assured, though her knees hit the ground hard.

She gripped onto her sibling’s hands, the support allowing her to stand up. She was busy brushing her knees off and wincing at the sting, when the little Drilbur behind her seemed to ... cry? “What’s wrong.ᐣ” Circe had asked, tilting her head like some sort of bird. Drilbur lowered his snout, remorseful.

“Oh .ᐟ” Linnea skipped over to where the Drilbur was half-buried in the dirt. “Were you the thing that tripped me .ᐣ It’s fine .ᐟ It’s just an accident.” The Pokémon peeked out a bit more, seemingly reassured, though the child peered closely at her paws. “What’s that you got there .ᐣ”

Drilbur lifted the item between his paws up and out of the dirt, showing it off with a smile. Linnea didn’t have to look over it twice to know that it was the fossil she had been looking for. ]

I’ll be okay.

—【 @bravo-ingo｡ 】

ㅤ

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you do headcanons for corinthian falling in love with a god/goddess? (Maybe their the god of chaos, destruction etc and he is just in awe)

A/n: This is gonna be kinda shit cuz I don’t think I could nail down his character but here we go.

Taglist: @mm2305 @murnsondock @mess-in-side @blossomedfloweroflove @dinonuggett @lex-the-flex

Corinthian was more then prepared to work alone if he must to achieve his wants and wishes but when he came across you, a well known but feared deity amongst the catalogue of gods and goddesses he knew he struck gold when he saw the glimmer in your eyes at the prospect of causing as much chaos and destruction to both the waking and the dream realms one could possibly think of. After all chaos and destruction were always your forte.

Needless to say at first he would be stroking his own over inflated ego of how he managed to snag a deity and indoctrinate them to his cause, his ideals, his wants and wishes he would ironically think that he was dreaming.

“A god and a nightmare working together? Who would’ve thought we’d work so smoothly alongside one another.” Was a common phrase he’d spout teasingly after decimating innocence together on a random afternoon, wiping the blood from his knife as you reached a hand to wipe some that had smeared his handsome face from your view. “It certainly is a surprise, an idea birthed from madness one would believe our alliance to be but I’d say life is full of surprises…some aren’t always the good kind.” You would reply cooly before walking away, firmly aware of where his he eyes would’ve lingered if he had been blessed with any.

Feelings would be a secondary thought in the beginning but soon after spending some quality together within the apartments of his latest victims acting so domestic as though you haven’t just massacred the occupants seconds prior. You’d notice certain things that he never lets anyone else do such as holding his knife within your own hand as if it was a feather. You knew Corinthian’s weapons were his prized possessions. You would be lucky enough to even see it up close if it wasn’t aimed at you with deadly precision; so to be able to hold it meant he placed a decent amount of his trust in you not to deceive him and stab him in the back with his own blade.

He’d even go as far as taking off his shades around you even the deeper your relationship grew. “You aren’t scared?” He asked when he first took his shades off in your presence albeit a little insecure about what a deity like you would think after seeing all of him for who he was by creation. A nightmare. “No,” you were quick to stand and hold his face in your hands firmly, “your beauty could never ever scared me Corinthian.” Your words touched him in a way he had long forgotten as he found himself leaning into your hands, leeching off of your warmth.

His smile was more genuine compared to the one he shot everyone within his vicinity. It was a rare sight to behold and you were blessed to bare witness to this moment of vulnerability. Though Corinthian would would often find himself gazing at you as though you were the one to gift him his senses, to gift him his life that he would surly give back to you if the occasion ever arose. He never pegged himself as someone who’d wholeheartedly give himself to someone for that meant giving them some semblance of power over him, manipulating him for their own wants, needs and wishes. He was use to seeing that within all living things.

Corinthian acted on urges rather then feelings so what he felt for you was something estranged to him that he almost became dare I say…fearful for what this meant for him in the future. After all he couldn’t go up against you, you were far more powerful then he was, is and ever will be in his existence and he’s in awe of your destructive power and prowess of the likes he’s never seen before. Your thirst to see chaos and destruction matched his own that he’d once allowed himself to be delusional and believe that you were in fact soulmates. Partners in crime, a match made in hell. Bonnie and Clyde type of pairing.

A dangerous pairing you make but that’s the beauty of it to Corinthian for making sweet sweet chaos with you was his favoured pastime that he’d gladly continue doing for all of eternity. For doing anything with you sounded like a hell of a time to Corinthian and he was down for it all if you let him.

[bookworm-2692]

After the absolute carnage and chaos of Session 3 and 4, I desperately wanted to see a graph of everyone’s life left compared to each other, and this is the result of that. I will include close ups of each session below the cut, as well as screenshots of the full (colour-coded!!) data. Updates: Session 5, Session 6, Session 7, Session 8.

Note that I’m using the times that everyone should have based on their kills and deaths, and not what was actually shown (since I know Tango was accidentally given 1.5 hours for his boogey kill instead of just 1 hour, and Skizz hasn’t yet received his 30 minutes for killing Tango), so we’ll see if these times are rectified for Session 5, or if I will adjust my graph to show what is actually used.

Before I show the close ups, I just want to explain the colours used. I picked a base colour for each team and then used a different shade of that colour for each member of the team, to make it easier when looking at a mess of lines. TIES are red because Tango made the bowtie on the tower red (and also because of the red tie in Skizz’s skin, and also Tango’s skin is red). The Bad Boys are green because of all their crops (wheat and potatoes and carrots so far). The Nosy Neighbours are purple because of Watcher-related reasons. Mean Gills are teal because of the coral reef and the warm water colour (and also Scott’s hair). Clockers are orange because Minecraft clocks are gold, and orange is the closest colour to that. Below is a screenshot of all the colour choices I had, and I labeled each one with the player I picked for it

Now for the close ups of each session, with labelling for where each player is at at the end of each session. The grey squiggly downward line is simply the average of all the players’ times at that instant, and the green, yellow, and red horizontal lines mark out 24, 16, and 8 hours respectively. There are no markings for the number of hours, but each gridline is an additional hour, so you can count up and down from the colour-coded lines.

Session 1 close up

Session 2 close up

Session 3 close up

Session 4 close up

So as you can see... there’s less than three hours between the bottom nine people, and a much larger gap from them to the top five. And all three of Skizz’s teammates are amongst those with the most time, so I don’t think Skizz will be first out if TIES play their cards right.

Next I am going to show the data tables I used to generate the graphs! I colour coded them so you can easily see green lives vs yellow lives, and also how often some people switched between them (and you can also see the single second Scar technically turned green during Session 3 before dying, which is also the weird orange vertical line on the graph).

There’s a new row every ten minutes, and every death created two new rows, the first of which is the times a second before the death, and the second is after the death, in order to create the sudden vertical drop.

Deaths are marked with red borders around the box, and time being gained is marked with a green border. All times are in hours and only display to two decimal places, but were calculated down to the second (and the times in hours, minutes, and seconds can be seen at the very left.

Without further ado:

Session 1 data

Session 2 data

Session 3 data

Session 4 data

I find this is a super good visualiser of all the green and yellow switches during the session.

And to visualise the absolute chaos of a specific ten minute segment during Session 3... below shows how much space the chaotic ten minutes takes up in the data due to all the deaths... compared to the entire two hours before it (remembering each row is a new ten minutes or a new death... so for a single ten minute segment to take up almost as much space as two hours, really shows a lot)

Anyway, I had an absolute blast putting all this data together and I’ve spent so much time since the weekend just staring at all the pretty graphs and data. I hope this helps other people keep track of all the death and carnage and times and so on, like it helped me.

[blnk338]

creative notes SIX!!!!!!!!!!

"Dickface himself with all of his cocksuckers around him," (Found in Chapter 17: Doctor, the Problem's in My Chest) I thought this was so fucking funny

"Welcome te McDonald’s" (Found in Chapter 17: Doctor, the Problem's in My Chest) was almost "Welcome to Mactavish's" but I didn't know if people would get it, so I ended up scrapping it.

I think it goes unnoticed but both Reaper and Graves have pretty unsteady anger. Him gripping the table, her nearly ripping her hair out-- there's an unfortunate similarity between them.

Mentioned in Chapter 18: Sell Your Arteries to Buy A Casket, Roach's team was decimated like Reaper's.

Noticed that as time as gone on, Reaper has slowly begun to have similar mannerisms to her UK counterparts like using "Aye" in response to her teammates.

“Has it always been one?” Gaz piped up, stepping out of the way so a mother and her son could walk through your group. “Yeah—sorry, ma’am—yeah, since I was a kid.” I don't know why, but I really liked what I did here because I tried to make the dialogue seem natural.

Yeah, Reaper's mom was kinda flirting with Price.

It's heavily insinuated that both Reaper had early-set PTSD from the military. Seen in Chapter 36: You Are Allowed to Grieve the Child You Could Have Been, it's insinuated that Reaper's kept up hidden weapons around the house.

I'm still unable to find the image, but there's a specific painting that I was thinking of in Chapter 36: You Are Allowed to Grieve the Child You Could Have Been's hallway scene. The entire hallway is set in shades of rich blues, the wooden paneling is slightly illuminated by the door at the end of the hallway, its beautiful yellow light being a beacon in the monochrome world.

The only person Reaper has ever said "I love you" to is her dad.

In Chapter 38: Murder-Induced Migraines, there's the line: "You thought it was stupid that something so small could mess you up so badly." This is a motion to how Reaper dumbs down some of her experiences, not taking them seriously.

“Did it hurt?” / “Did it hurt?” / “When I told you to look up and I was right?” (I thought this one was so silly)

“Well, until I get the ultimate, unadulterated joy of being in the passenger seat beside him going batshit, someone describe it to me.” / “Loud.” Price offered. / “It’s like I’m there.” You replied. (I ALSO THOUGHT THIS ONE WAS SO FUNNY)

In Chapter 19: What She Says Next Will Shock You!, there's a back-and-forth between Reaper hardly being able to talk and not being able to talk at all-- I added this because I wanted to make it clear that Reaper was down there long enough to be able to heal, then get hurt again.

In the same chapter, I almost didn't add the "kys" moment from Reaper because I didn't want people to get mad at me :(

I don't actually use "moan" that much outside of sexual connotations because I think people see it as more sexual than painful. I use groan for more painful situations because I think fewer people see it as sexual.

In Chapter 21: Walking on Pre-Shattered Eggshells, when Rigo messages her "i sent u my penis costume picture pls respond" (and the entire message before that) I had a laugh because, again, I think I'm so funny and I'm that asshole that laughs at my own jokes.

[ravenpaws222]

What art program/brushes do you use? Your art has soft chalky looking outlines and it's making me curious lmao

Soo I use procreate :D and I have like way too many brushes but I only ever really use a couple, here’s the main ones I use! All of them are default brushes except for the blending one

The peppermint brush is what I use for the fuzzy looking outline, I messed around w the settings to make it look fuzzier tho so if you want the specific things I changed I can post that :]

Tinderbox is the main one I use for coloring, it’s a little difficult to see unless you zoom in but that’s why my colors also look a bit fuzzy!

I don’t use the flat brush as often as the others, that one I pretty much only use for blocking out shading if I’m gonna be making a larger, more detailed piece

And then the blending brush is one that I imported, unfortunately I don’t think I have the link to that anymore :[ I could probably also post the settings for that tho,, cuz the blending feature on procreate is annoying and doesn’t look quite right so that’s why I just straight up don’t use it

Besides those I do use a couple brushes from the texture section of the default brushes, like the decimals brush for that effect that looks like screentones, but I think that’s pretty much it! Let me know if you have any more questions :))

[salami2]

a/n: ahaha- guess who’s back again! yeah I’ll take all the “it’s been so long” comments with this. I know im a piece of shit for making y’all wait weeks 😭 anyways I hope you all enjoy this!

warning(s): not much, some swearing here and there. mentions of death.

word count of 3k

chapter 1

Chapter 2

tagging: @mbh004 @calypso-no-internet @just-raven-xo @forestarling @ningenistaken @romanticfictionlover @your-girl-mj @fandomtrash264

“Papa, are you sure you don’t want to come with us? I’m positive the crew can clean up by themselves.”

Your soft voice cooed your father, who was yelling orders to his staff around him. He sighed and looked towards you. His dishevelled face giving you a sad smile.

“Mija, I’ll be alright,” he affirms. “I’ll check it out soon. But you should enjoy some free time with your sister. I know you’ve been meaning to get out.”

Frowning, you take his hand and try to drag him with you. He chuckled at your attempt.

“Really, it’s ok. Now go; I’ve heard the people are some of the kindest and most generous of all Columbia.”

Good people are nice and all, but you’d much rather prefer being close to your father. Truth is… your sister isn’t the most reliable at times. She casually leaned against the wall, checking the time.

“S/O, get your ass over here! C’mon, I don’t want to hear anymore complaints from you.”

Maria started walking off into town. You sighed with annoyance.

“Have a good time. Enjoy your youth while you can.”

Without hesitation, you gave your father a quick hug and set out behind your sister. Letting the wind sweep away your frown.

The town seemed oddly lively. Not like you had remembered it yesterday. It was beautiful. Just the kinda home you wish you had.

The type of home you wish you could have.

— 𓆩 ☆ 𓆪 —

“Isn’t this town gorgeous, Maria? The plants, the wildlife- the people!”

Your sister rolled her eyes. It was evedent enough how happy you were with this spot. And you weren’t lying; it was beautiful in the little town of Encanto.

But you’ve never raised a decimal in voice when it came to other towns. This one must be something special.

“Yeah, I guess. S/O, you’ve been a shit ton more cheery since last night. Is it because of that boy who gave you flowers?”

You paused, flustered on what to say. Face turning a light shade of pink.

“I-I suppose so. What he did was so nice…”

“Feel sorry for him. He clearly mixed the two of us up.”

You frowned. There she went again, you thought. Always making herself the priority.

“Anyways, I hope I can see him again- TO THANK HIM! Obviously I-I just wanna thank him f-for the lovely carnations, that’s all,”

“But Encanto is bigger than I thought, there’s no way-“

Ears peeking up, you heard a voice in the near distance. A familiar one: to which you turned to see him. HIM. The boy calling out to you was the Madrigal kid from last night.

A bunch of kids swarmed around him. With him trying to free their grasp to get to you.

Oh my goodness… he was so cute.

At night, it’s hard to see clearly. Now that the sun was shining brightly in the sky, you could milk in all his features.

A bright smile displaying his face. An adorable button nose. And freckles that spread all across his face. He was too cute for his own good!

The same was with Camilo, as well. He could see your beauty more clearly in the day than at night. It was still astounding.

“Oh shit- speak of the devil! Sis, he’s coming over here, so don’t be a mess and act normal.”

All eyes were put on you all of a sudden. The curious children and the very excited Camilo Madrigal.

“O-oh! Hi, k-kids.” You introduced, waving a small hello. They all giggled, roaming around you. Camilo peeled them back one by one, laughing.

Even his laugh was irresistible…

“Sorry about that. The kids get riled up by any new exciting thing they find. It’s sweet until it gets annoying.”

You smiled. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It’s great to see you again,” he says, “I’m Camilo. Camilo Madrigal. I know, I know. No need to bask in my presence. The sun does a nice enough job of doing that.”

He joked. You silently giggled, cheeks rosy.

“I’m S/O (L/N). And you’ve already heard of Maria.”

You looked over to your sister, who immediately put her hand out for him to shake. He did, hesitantly, before putting his attention back to you.

“A pretty name with a pretty face. Nice~”

He reached down to your hand. In a swift motion, he gently kissed the back of your hand.

Your face became the darkest shade of red known to man. Starting to babble and eyes wide open. Maria wondered what happened to you.

“Hey, is it ok if I took your sister for a second? I wanna hang out with her today.”

“Well, if I were her, she would say yes.” Maria said, pushing you off of her and over to Camilo.

The cheeky boy grabbed your hand once again and looked you in the eye. Making butterflies erupt in your stomach. You went over toward the hurdle of children, who were eager to meet this beautiful girl.

“You’re the girl from last night! The one on the tightropes!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, that wasn’t me. But I’m happy you liked the show.”

They all took in awe over how kind and gentle you were towards them. Taking a liking to you.

“You were the one who sang.” A voice chirped behind you.

The kid in question was smiling towards you. Dark skin, curly hair, and a similar nose as Camilo’s.

“Correct, Antonio. Damn, you're a smart five year old.”

The kid walked up to you and took your hand in a shake. “I’m Antonio Madrigal. It’s super nice to meet you.”

Oh dear, another Madrigal- you didn’t know what to do. You had managed to make a good impression with Camilo, so you had to be good for him too.

“My little brother. He usually doesn’t like to hang around me, though.”

“I recognize that voice.” A woman spoke softly beside you, making you jump on the spot. She was beautiful, but her stare was a bit unnerving. With curly hair tied into a top bun. Secured with a big red bow.

“You were loud enough for me to remember.” She said nonchalantly. Wondering to take it as an insult or a compliment.

“And that’s my sister, Dolores.” Camilo spoke up. “Guess your meeting my entire family today… haha…” he awkwardly added, giving his sibling looks.

“Oh. Sorry Camilo. Didn’t realize you were on a date.” She said, walking off. Both your faces turned as red as her bow.

“It’s not a date! Not a date! I’m just- showing the new girl around town and meeting everyone, that’s all.” He replied hastily. You nodded along.

Antonio raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” He questioned before being shushed by his brother.

Camilo dragged you away from all that mess. Now the neighborhood children were teasing you both from afar.

“Ah, I’m so sorry about that. My family can be a little.. invasive, at times. And a little teasing. Is it still ok if I show you around?”

You nodded, following his lead with the pounding of your heart.

This wasn’t normal.

You’ve never felt like this before around a boy. Or a girl. Or anybody.

So why were your feelings a knot at this moment? Why did you want to grasp his hand in your and… you blushed just thinking about being next to him.

Though you felt like fainting at the slightest touch and affection he showed, having Camilo as a tour guide was quite fun. Showing you around the not so small Encanto, meeting all the people, and having fun all around.

When it was time to say goodbye, he said it with sorrow. He bid you adieu in the most dramatic way possible. Making you genuinely laugh for once. You skipped home to get ready and see him again, to which he did too.

Everyone could tell the look in your eyes. It was special! There might be something there that was never there before.

— 𓆩 ☆ 𓆪 —

Like last night, his house was in a storm. Rumbling and loud lightning strikes. Everyone is scrambling to get ready for the (L/N)s coming tonight. Like Abuela, everyone wanted things to be perfect.

“Julieta, is dinner ready? Felix, I’m hoping the table is set! Pepa-“ Alma paused.

“Never mind- vamos! Vamos! We cannot afford things to go wrong tonight. Convincing the (L/N)s to stay will be so good for Encanto.”

Camilo looked himself in a mirror hanging in his little brothers room. Antonia looking at him in confusion.

“Why are you checking yourself in the mirror?” He asked. Camilo chuckled.

“Uh, I just wanna look good for the guests, that’s all.”

Antonio raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.” He added, walking off to where his mother was.

Camilo knew tonight was going to go ok. He knew he had nothing to fear. But with his mothers outbursts of anxiety, Dolores and Antonio being suspicious of his behaviour around you, and not being able to look you in the eye…

It felt like a disaster to happen.

Beside the disaster of a family, your family was already at the door. Prepping before knocking.

“Ok, remember girls: no fighting, no comments, no nothing. We want things to go perfectly so the Madrigals don’t think bad about us. So please, please be on your best behaviour.”

You simply nodded, while Maria wasn’t so eager. He took a deep breath, straightened his shirt, and knocked on the door.

Silence.

A friendly old woman opened the door. “Ah! Come in, come in! It’s so good to see you made it just on time.”

From the look of it, this seemed to be the matriarchal head of the Madrigal house. Abuela Alma. She had a kind face. Wrinkles and lines from years of life, of course.

She shook your father and Maria’s hands. Reaching out to you next. You gripped it a little too tightly, nervous about being right in front of her.

She directed you and your family to the dinner table, where everybody is. Camilo immediately noticed you and grinned ear to ear, making you smile as well. You seated right across from him.

“It is so nice to have such talented people in our home,” Alma spoke up, “Please, a toast to our new guests!”

Everyone saluted with sparkling wine glasses.

— 𓆩 ☆ 𓆪 —

The dinner was an… interesting experience. To say the least.

Through it, you managed to meet almost every single Madrigal member.

Alma was the oldest and head. When she talked, everyone turned their attention to her.

Julietta was the one who cooked the amazing food. You praised her for her amazing talent. Realizing the small injuries you had healed in an instant.

Augustine was quite nice as well.

Pepa was Camilo’s mother. It didn’t take long for her to thunder.

But her husband, Felix, calmed her down easily.

We… don’t talk about Bruno.

Isabella was the oldest. And very, very pretty. Maria was definitely entranced by her beauty.

Dolores was quiet. But when she talked, was extremely kind! She was more quiet now then when you first met her, but she genuinely is kind.

Luisa was super nice as well. But she unfortunately had to get up a lot.

Mirabel was a little clumsy, but nice as well. Talkative too.

And Camilo you already knew. Through the entire dinner the two of you gave each other awkward as hell looks. Looking away as well. But you really wanted to talk to him.

Last but not least is little Antonio. Such a sweet baby! He was too adorable for your own good. And nice to you as well.

You understand why many treated the Madrigals like magical knights in shining armour. Their powers were incredible. So much so they could take on army’s upon army’s of soldiers with just one of them.

Or you could be exaggerating- they were just so awesome.

Your father stayed with the adults while you and your sister got dragged by Mirabel, as she explained the amazing house Madrigal.

“Aaaaand, this is Camilo’s room! I’ve never been inside, but I guess we could take a sneak peak while he’s gone…”

Before Mirabel could open the door, a voice could be heard behind the three of you. Making her stop in her tracks.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Prima.”

It was Camilo’s voice. You turned around to see him give you a quick smirk.

“If you wanted to check out my room, you should’ve asked. I don’t mind showing guests from time to time.”

Sliding open the door, the room was pitch darkness. With a single clap of his hand, lights from the ceiling turned on to reveal a…

Stage?

“Well.. this is odd.” Mirabel said, stepping inside with the rest of you.

His room was big, no question needed. With big red curtains drawn back and a massive stadium of seats. With nothing but darkness for the eye could see.

And the walls… There were mirrors everywhere.

Definitely an odd room. Camilo closed off the door. “Anyways, S/O, if it’s ok with you I’d like to whisk you off and show you something.”

You raised an eyebrow. Maria scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Not again! You both run off together all the time.”

“I just want to spend some time alone with her, nothing personal.” Camilo replied.

He grabbed your hand and rushed you up the stairs. Your sister's complaints are simply fading away while he whisks you away.

It seemed like everything was white noise. Your father is chatting with Abuela. Your sister and Mirabel, talking about your life on the road. And then you and Camilo. Silently laying on the roof of his casita with you under the stars.

Something you always had time to appreciate.

“This is a beautiful spot, Camilo. But, why’d you bring me up here?”

His heart panned at his name rolling off your tongue. “Ah, well, I’ve been saving this for a good moment. Turns out I found a really good one tonight.”

You softly smiled. “Nobody’s… ever done something like this before. For me! I mean…” you giggled. “It’s so sweet of you…”

He chuckled. You turned, watching his eyes shine under the dark sky. Immediately you saw the freckles, the button nose, the beautiful eyes.

Now that you think about it, there must have been many who tried to be engaged to a Madrigal. Probably those who were greedy for the powers, not interested in love at all.

“Your family is so amazing. I guess you get that a lot. But I genuinely mean it. My sister… terrorizes my father and me,”

Camilo scrunched his eyebrows and looked at you in the face. “As in a joking way or…?”

“No no, she makes things difficult a lot,” you answer, “ever since a couple months ago, a family tragedy happened and she just- just won’t let us get over it.”

He sat upright from his lying position and schooched closer towards you.

“I have no choice but to look in the mirror every day. No matter how hard I try I see her. And I worry my father does too. I love my sister but… I hate her too. Whatever she has going on, I want to help her! But… I hate doppelgängers.”

It was as if a silver arrow silently pierced through the Madrigals heart. His heart went higher at a fast pace.

“They cause havoc- they always do! I don’t want another me, it’s so terrifying to think about. Nonetheless see every day!”

There was a dead silence between you too. You internally slapped yourself.

“Ahahaha, sorry, I got a bit carried away there. Anyways, I’ve always wondered about your gift, Camilo. I only know a few of your family members' gifts, so, please do tell me.”

This had to be karma for something.

No way would you explain your hatred for shapeshifters and then proceed to ask for his gift.

(Well, actually it was the author's own evil >:))

“Uhm… I have to…. GO!”

That boy scurried away as quickly as he could, pushing past Mirabel and Maria. You were confused, leaving the rooftop and finding them. Looking back at Camilo’s room.

“Was it just me or did Camilo rush off to his room?” Mirabel questioned.

“Sis, what the hell did you say to him?” Maria asked. You stumbled on your words, the feeling of tears coming to your eyes as you tried to push it back.

“I-I don’t know! I asked him his gift, but then he rushed off! Is it… something bad? Is it something I shouldn’t talk about?”

Mirabel chuckled and shook her head.

“Depends how you see it. Anyways, I’ll go talk to him. You all stay right there.”

And with that she made her way to his door. Knocking before entering the stage.

The girl found her primo pacing back and forth. A worried expression on his face. She called out to him.

“Camilo! Is something wrong? You left S/O out of the blue.”

He groaned into his hands. “Mira, this is bad- this is really bad. If she knew, I wouldn’t know what I would do!”

Mirabel walked over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile.

“Dont worry, Camilo. Whatever it is it’s best to get off your chest and just downright tell her. That way things-“

“No, no, no, no, Mira you don’t understand. S/O hates doppelgängers. She hates shapeshifters. Like, two minutes ago she gave this whole ass speech about it!”

The girl was speechless. Well… isn’t this a not so funny coincidence, she thought to herself.

“So, then, what are you going to do?”

“… I’ll have to… keep it… from her.”

@salami2

[void-bitten-ghost]

Home

Short wintersberg fic thing. Unedited and done on my phone so it's probably such a mess. Oh my good g od this is so self indulgent I just want redeemable apologetic villains to be okay, okay?? Okay

Heisenberg contemplates his life with Ethan and Rose I guess. Sort of? Really this was just a lead up to some soft pwp smut but I kinda lost steam. Yes I see your "Ethan is a subby twink" headcanon but I also raise you my "Ethan Shoot-It-Til-It-Dies Winters is a Power Bottom" headcanon prove me wrong

But yeah, enjoy :)

Their first time was not gentle.

It was harsh. Dangerous. All teeth and tongues and violence. They'd been fighting, as per usual. Was it over a wrench? Or their future plan of attack? Either way, one thing lead to another and all of a sudden boom, they were kissing like their lives depended on it. As if they had mere seconds of their existence left and this, the taste of eachothers blood on their tongues, was the thing that'd save them. After, when they'd cleaned up and rebuttoned, it was an unspoken rule that they'd never speak of it again.

This time was nothing like that.

Miranda was dead, the crazy bitch, the ground she'd walked on burned and salted and decimated. And now Rose was safe with them. She's even learning to crawl now, the little gremlin, meaning Karl either had to baby proof his entire workshop or pack it up altogether.

Guess which one he picked.

He's bolting shut the last toolbox on his work bench when Ethan comes to see him. He's leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed loosely. Such a casual pose, a calm over him Karl has never actually witnessed before. A - dare he say - softness about the way he's holding himself, eyes glinting and the corner of his mouth tilting up. If Karl were to let himself believe there was something there, he would say it was the same warmth he felt in his chest when he'd watched Ethan put little Rose to bed, or when he held her little feet and and hid behind them, making her laugh. Those scenes having fondness creeping over his ribs like vines taking root and sprouting in blooms.

He thinks that's what he sees in Ethan as he steps forward and kneels with him on the freshly swept floor. Don't want the little flower getting her hands split open on shrapnel. Even if she does heal at an extraordinary rate, he doesn't want to be the cause of any pain that may befall her. No. No one is going to hurt that little girl. Not while he's around to crush the people who try. His youth had been robbed from him, his found family trite and apathetic. He's not letting that happen to Rose. Over his crystalline corpse.

There are hands on his, pulling them away from the silly little plastic latches he was attaching to his many, many cupboard doors. The metal of the prosthetic he'd painstakingly crafted for his partner was warm against his skin, just like the rest of Ethan. Warm, light, fire. That's what he was, a fire like a furnace, a beacon for Karl to come home to...

Home. He's home. He deserves none of this, not the calloused fingers on his cheeks, nor the baby blues meeting him head on, piercing through his shades and bolting directly into his chest in a live current. And he definitely doesn't deserve the kiss when it happens. Ethan is slow and soft and hesitant, a man who has his throat bared and knows it with such aching certainty. And Karl doesn't know what to do with soft. He doesn't know what to do with warmth. He knows heat and fire. Knows how to burn fuel and mould metal into something tough and harsh and dangerous.

This. This is a whole new layer of foreign, and it terrifies him. Has him still and barely breathing as Ethan kisses him like something precious. Like he deserves this home they've somehow built and filled with that intoxicating, unconditional warmth. Like he could be wanted here, not just used and discarded like refuse down the river. Like he could be...

Those hands are at his jaw, his nape, and just the feel of Ethan's fingers threatening to bury themselves in his hair have Karl's breath coming back with a barely contained shiver. His own hesitant, confused hands suddenly struggling for purchase on Ethan's jacket and he kisses back. Tries to give back what Ethan is gifting him but he can't do soft. His need for action pushing him forward, harder, faster, make it hurt please it's what he deserves-

But those hands, those very same hands that threatened to end him once, push him gently back by the shoulders, eyes staring at him hard, knowingly, as if chiding him for even thinking this would be like last time. He's on his knees with Ethan now on his lap and he's so close, heat both familiar and foreign licking at his insides as they're pressed up against eachother. Now he's looking up, hat tipped back and off by hands in his hair and he's gone. Those eyes tearing through him, setting him alight, and the bastard knows it. His grin edging on shit-eating as he leans down to touch their lips together again. Just as gentle. Just as soft. But there's an edge there, something firm and commanding and if anyone else so much as looked at him with such a dominating vibe he'd grind them to paste. But Ethan...

He'd allow Ethan this.

[artsymagic429]

Hetalia Platonic Ships Week Day 4 Annual Canadian-American Sleepover

Allen and James had never had the pleasure of experiencing the annual Canadian-American sleepover/prank way before, so the kids all decide to 'initiate them.' Pure chaos ensues.

They all have the sleepover at Alfred's place since it's the biggest.

Full-on prank war starts right out of the gate. Allen and James are immediately initiated by everyone with the oldest trick in the book: getting slathered in maple syrup and chicken feathers. Louisiana teams up with Ontario to terrorize Quebec voodoo-based pranks. Of course, Allen runs damage control makes sure to keep track of what they're doing, and cancel any horrible aftereffects. Nevada runs bets on who falls for what prank. The highest is California falling for the kale snack that's actually grass prank. With Tony's help, Alfred pranks Mathew by beaming down beavers on his head and teleporting him into a giant pile of maple leaves filled with syrup. Mathew immediately retaliates by jump scaring him with a creepy eagle mask every time he enters a room then chases him into the barn where he's covered in ketchup and mustard.

Pennsylvania and New Brunswick team up to switch PEI's hair care products and New Jersey's hair gel. They also replace New Jersey's bottle of soap with Tan in a Can mixed with Cheeto puff powder. Saskatchewan and Nunavut scare New York and make him think Wendigos are after him. New Mexico and Arizona fill every bit of Minnesota's winter gear with desert sand. North Dakota and North Carolina team up against South Dakota and South Carolina in a giant nerf war. Delaware, being Delaware, puts sticky notes on everything. There's can only be one. The Southern States team up to terrorize Florida in revenge for Florida man. They convince Florida she needs to around dressed as all their state football mascots to ward off Florida man who's coming to fight her Alligators.

Arkansas borrows Lousiana's pet pelican and trains it to dive-bomb Alabama and Mississippi with stink bombs. Texas mixes his five-alarm chili seasoning in with food and gets people to eat it. Alfred easily falls for this when it's put in ice cream. Mathew as well when it's put in poutine. Wisconsin makes various cheese replicas of everyday items and replaces them. He'll go around just eating things like a lamp in front of people to subtly frick with them and make them question reality. Oregon tye dyes everything Washington has. Tennesee has trained various chickens to crow at Kentucky at various hours of the day whenever she walks by. Hawaii and Alaska are currently leading on the scoreboard because, despite their unassuming looks, they're little devils, especially when hyped on sugar.

Their most successful one to date would be tying one end of Texas' lasso to Ameriwhale and telling him they found it, giving him the other end, and making him go for a swim. British Columbia and Alberta accompany Maryland who loves subtly messing with Mr. Perfectionist Delaware by moving everything he has in his room an inch over to the right and making everything crooked. Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa rig a popcorn matching to shoot popcorn at random intervals. James ducktapes Allen's shades to his head and his bat to the top of the tallest tree in the yard. He also trains Kuma to roar in his face every time he turns a corner and turns on Jersey Shore every time he comes close to a TV to get him stuck using that accent for a whole day. Allen retaliates by hiding his hockey stick in a nearby beaver dam, dies all his flannel pink and puts polka dots on them, puts honey in his scruff and hair which makes Kuma chase him down to lick it off. He also rigs his motorbike to be remote controlled (a trick learned from Massachusettes) and attaches the back of his paints to it, making them fly off.

Eventually, things start settling down and everyone starts up the movies and eats pizza. The award for the best prank goes to, surprisingly, Wyoming and Newfoundland who actually are aresponsible for over 20+ pranks with Hawaii and Alaska in a close second and Wisconsin in third for sheer creativity. Wyoming enlists Newfoundland to help her set this up, swearing him to secrecy. Many of their pranks include creating an impossible-to-navigate maze and trick people to go in, being continually chased by prairies dogs, gophers, and various farm animals, rigging various wire traps around the house and whenever someone activates one they immediately get pied in the face, and somehow rigging every toilet in the house to flush and sing Another One Bites the Dust on command. No one knows where they got them or how they managed to do this in such a short time. They were also never caught until the scores are tallied and they revealed themselves after no one could figure out who did most of the pranks. It's always the shy ones.

About five minutes into the movie, New Jersey hits New York with a pillow starting another all-out brawl. Texas immediately goes big with a bean bag chair because it's on like Donkey Kong and his motto is 'go big or go home!' Even Delaware, usually a tightwad, gets crazy and helps West Virginia target, Virginia. All of the New England states hunker down in a pillow fort under heavy fire with the Southern states who also vote unanimously to sacrifice Florida. Oklahoma and the rest of Tornado Alley team up and become a giant collective twister of unstoppable force. The battle of the 48th parallel states and provinces i.e. BC, Alberta, Ontario, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and Ontario vs. Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington rages on with South Dakota betraying them for the chance to hit North Dakota and Ontario also going rouge after being booted out. Eventually, though, they reveal their double agent status which decimates both sides. Mathew and James immediately go into hockey mode while Allen goes into baseball mode and Alfred into football mode.

The party shows no signs of slowing as the chaos continues late into the night. Everyone wakes up the next morning to find feathers everywhere, Texas' entire cowboy hat collection on the roof, PEI, Ontario, New Jersey, California, and Quebec are all duct tapped to the ceiling, Kansas is wearing a Dorothy costume while Maryland wakes up surrounded by hermit crabs. Georgia is covered in peaches and Florida is seemingly missing until they find her safe and sound in the pool snoozing on a giant Alligator float still in the Bulldog costume with every other state mascot suit next to her. Manitoba, Utah, Kentucky, and Nebraska all wake up in the barn with the chickens crowing. Texas is sleeping on top of his bull ride with his state flag dropped over him. Alfred wakes up in the bathtub in a Captain America costume and Mathew Wakes up in the shower with a Captain Canada costume on. Allen and James come out of things relatively unscathed with Allen crashed on the couch with his motorbike covered in glitter courtesy of Hawaii and Alaska in the living room and James with Kuma in the garage with Wisconsin's cow and goats. Basically, everything is pure chaos and no one knows what has been replaced by cheese and what hasn't. Needless to say, Allen and James' first annual family prank war/sleepver was a success. See y'all next year!

[achilleid]

A Series of Firsts, pt. I (Crow x f!guardian)

Rating: T

Summary: First confessions, first drink, first kiss. All in one.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment her perspective shifted. It was one thing to say, when you awake as a guardian, whomever you were in your past life is gone, and another to put it into practice.

Especially when you knew the person that guardian had been in the very recent past.

Especially when you were the reason that person had died.

Of all the things Crow had learned (mostly against his will) about who he was before he awoke to the Light, that was one thing she was glad he had not discovered.

Which was a whole other mess for her mind and her heart to work out. It was hard enough at the start seeing the face of the man who she had hunted, had chased over the stars with hatred in her heart and revenge in her hands. Hands that had fired the Ace of Spades into Uldren Sov until he breathed no more.

Uldren had been proud. Haughty. A prince in his status and his manner.

And now this man who wore his face was hissing at having scorched his fingertips on the crackling campfire after adding a log. He sheepishly blew on them as Glint shook his small chassis with a chiding air.

“I told you to use a smaller log.”

“By all means, show me how it is done, Sparky.”

Glint couldn’t scowl, but the way his edges tightened and he groaned said well enough that he hated the endearment.

“That’s what I thought.” Crow said with a grin, catching her eye as she watched him. The expression softened, his voice lowering, “How’s it coming?”

Right. She was supposed to be mixing up the stew. Pulled from her thoughts, she returned to stirring, mixing packets of dried vegetable and meat rations into the stock that was, in truth, mostly water. It was a typical meal for guardians on the ground. And… well, despite Zavala having learned of Crow’s real identity, it was too risky still to have him walking around the tower.

He’d needed to “get out and stretch his wings” as he called it, and so here she was. Camped out in the EDZ with the Lightbringer formerly known as Uldren Sov. The man she had killed. And now the man she was stupidly, and irreversibly already half in love with.

There had been moments. Lots of moments. Too many moments.

First she’d thought the affection stemmed from the fact he looked up to her. Just another new Lightbearer with an awed respect for the Young Wolf, Hero of the Red War, the “Chosen One”… it wasn’t like she had set out to be any of those things. She had just done what needed to be done. She recalled she told him that once and he had chuckled with such… fondness. His voice pitching low then as it did now or whenever they were alone.

Like their conversations were a secret. His words for her ears alone.

She set the pot over the flame on it’s hanger, noting that despite Glint’s criticisms, the flame was high enough and hot enough to use.

“You seem distracted tonight.” Crow said, letting his hood fall back. Even in the dark his eyes glowed faintly, the color of a sunrise.

She told herself the shiver that ran up and down her arms was from the chill in the air.

“I’ve never been a talker.” She said and settled back down next to him. It was near enough that one of them only had to reach out to touch the other. It would be too obvious to move now, she thought with a silent curse, frowning to herself.

“Is that so?” Crow said, his voice so earnest that for a moment she didn’t realize he was teasing her until she looked up and saw the faint smile on his lips.

Her traitorous heart skipped. Where was her Ghost? For that matter, where was Glint? They had both been here a moment ago.

“I thought… well… I thought maybe you were regretting bringing me along. I can’t say that last shot at the Fallen was my best moment.”

She had nearly forgotten. It was a small skirmish, something she could have easily taken solo. A Captain had swiped in close, nearly taking her arm off with his sword. Crow’s shot had missed, but it had forced the Captain back, giving her enough time to dispatch the Fallen herself. She had been surprised, but hadn’t given it more thought than that.

But now, in the dim light, she could see the same expression on Crow’s face he had worn when he came down from his perch and helped her bandage the shallow wound. It hadn’t been embarrassment, or even quite disappointment… but something else. Something deeper.

“It still saved me a very uncomfortable rez.” She said and the Crow just nodded, his brow pinched slightly as he cast his eyes aside. She turned, tilting her head to try to get back into his line of sight.

“Hey, I mean it. I would have regretted not bringing you along. This is so much better than being off on my own.”

Surprise flashed over his features, a deeper shade of indigo spreading across his cheeks. She suddenly found herself wishing a Taken portal would open up and swallow her whole. She turned away before he could see the same flush spread over her own face.

“… I agree.” Crow said and she risked another look over at him. He was smiling.

“One nice thing about being out of Spider’s lair— well, one of the nice things— I get to see you more often.”

She didn’t know what to say. The silence between them was only broken by the faint chirping of insects, the crackle of the fire and the faint bubbling sound of their dinner. Crow was looking at his hands, fidgeting with his gloves and picking at the fabric.

“Anyway. I appreciate that you humor a kinderguardian like me.” Crow began, his voice tinged with forced humor to hide the deprecation, “Letting me tag along—“

“I like it too.” She said, the words coming out so fast it came out more as “liketoo” than a comprehensive sentence.

The Crow had stopped fidgeting. The insects and the fire were overloading her senses again.

“… I really respect you. As a guardian, as a comrade. And… And I like to think of you as a friend.” Crow continued, “…and I like to think of you.”

He stopped.

“You like to think of me as—?” She prompted, breath held in her lungs.

He smiled, “That’s all. I like to think of you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Crow’s confession had brought a permanent heat to his cheeks, his expression softening as if he were marveling that he managed to even get the words out. She was marveling them too. Or more like, feeling her thoughts collapse inward on themselves like a black hole.

“What... um. What does that mean?” She said, feeling dumb and fumbling and definitely not like someone with the title of “Godslayer”.

“I… “ he began, but whatever it was that had slipped forward was beginning to retreat once more, “…well, I… it’s… just a sentiment I suppose.”

It was now or never.

“I think about you too. Often. A lot. I think about you a lot. And… I know I’m this ‘role model’ and thought of as this untouchable big damn hero and everyone— no. Look. The point is, me too.”

To his credit, the Crow listened to her outburst with quiet attentiveness, even nodding once or twice in understanding.

“It just seems impossible.” He said at last, shrugging slightly, “I can’t imagine why someone like you—”

“Don’t look at the pedestal.” She said, her voice firm, “Just look at me. C’mon, you’ve seen how I eat. I talk in my sleep too, I know I do. I never clean my guns right and I’ve had half a dozen sparrow related rezes because I’m a shitty driver.”

That last one got a laugh.

“So let’s just focus on the win here, yeah? You like me.” She waited until the Crow picked up on the prompt and he nodded, confirming it, “And I like you. Now it’s out there.”

Crow let out a breath that turned into a nervous laugh, “It’s definitely out there.”

When it became apparent neither one of them knew how to go on, there was a soft sigh from somewhere nearby. Glint and her own Ghost glided out from the trees, coming to perch near their guardians.

“And what were you two doing?” Crow said, clearly relieved for a subject change.

“Oh, just— just patrolling.” Glint said hurriedly, earning what could be imagined was a wry look from her own Ghost. He turned that look on her then as if he were exasperated with her for something.

She had a funny feeling why the pair had left them alone.

—-

A day had become a week and then a week had easily fallen into the next. Devrim had even radioed in at one point to tell them to “leave some for the rest of us” after the fourth Fallen patrol they had decimated.

They worked well together, the awkwardness of the night before fading into routine. It surprised her how natural such a foreign concept like touch was to them. A bump on the shoulder with a closed fist, a silent congratulations for a good shot. The brush of their hands when they passed ammo or a water canteen. The touch of his arm, brushing against her own perhaps every thirteenth of a second when they walked too close together.

Even at the campfire they slowly had begun to draw nearer and nearer, their orbit closing in on the other. His, with an innocent like curiosity. Her own interest decidedly less innocent, but also still— cautious. She felt the pull of his light, new and bright. Her own had not shimmered so in a long time… he was naive, young and rash. He needed looking after, not another responsibility. The point driven even further home now by the way he teetered unsteadily even sitting.

Devrim had sent a patrol over to meet them with fresh supplies. One of them being a bottle of something he called “Gulchshine” which, judging by the smell, was maybe only one molecule away from pure ethanol. Crow hadn’t drank since he was revived. Which was the same as saying he’d never drank before at all.

“This is disgusting. I can’t stop drinking it.” Crow said, his voice not so much slurred as it was relaxed. Open and unguarded.

“What is that? Is that lemon? Or is it just my taste buds dying?”

“It… definitely seems like lemon.” She said, giving a tiny sip to the cup in her own hand. There was a citrus like bite beneath the taste of rubbing alcohol, but it was not near sweet or sour enough to mask the bitterness of the clear liquid.

“Like someone whispering the word ‘lemon’ from another room.” Crow murmured and took another sip, a shudder going over him as he swallowed. He brought the bottle to his lips again and with a chuckle, she leaned nearer and said in a soft voice,

“Lemon."

Crow nearly choked on his laugh. It was a nice sound, one she didn’t hear often enough from him.

“That exactly.” He said after he’d caught his breath, turning towards her with a grin. The smile faded at the realization of how close they were. His eyes half-closed and dreamy in their regard as he lifted a hand up to brush back a strand of hair from her face.

She could smell the alcohol on his warm breath, the moss of the greenery around them, the fresh air… could feel the warmth from the Earth beneath them and from his hand on her cheek. She reached out, holding him by the chin to keep him in place as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss, as faint as the sweet taste of citrus, on his lips.

She had not expected to do that. She equally did not expect him to curl his hand behind her head and pull her in, his mouth already open for another kiss which she happily provided. Crow groaned, an involuntary and needful sound.

Desperation. She could taste it in his kiss, in the way he tentatively returned the soft touch of her tongue, inexperienced but so eager to learn. To feel. He craved it in every gasp, every pull of his fingers through her hair. He wanted to be touched— with tenderness, with kindness. His body lit with it, his breathing fast and quick and his touch edging towards rough in its eagerness. Like he couldn’t get close enough. A wanting so strong and so foreign and yet familiar. She felt him struggle with it— with his body knowing vaguely what it wanted but his mind struggling to keep up.

So she guided him. Over and over. Kissing not just his lips but the highpoint of his cheek and the juncture where his jaw met his neck. She let her teeth rasp over his pulse, thready and rapid at his throat and relished in the way he shivered. She wasn’t sure when she had been settled into his lap, only that she enjoyed the way it made her just a fraction taller.

They were wearing too many clothes. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over every expanse of his skin until he remembered her touch more than he remembered any bullet or beam or weapon that had ever struck him. The sudden movement of her hands to the hem of his shirt had an immediate sobering effect, his body going rigid beneath her.

“… too fast.” She said, nodding half at her self. She let her hands slide back up, resting her arms around his shoulders. Crow swallowed thickly and she repressed the urge to kiss his neck all over again.

“I’ve never— I mean, not that I remember…”

It made perfect sense. His uncertainty mixed with certainty. Moments of lucidness where he no doubt remembered past lovers, past kisses, and then for them to fade like starlight from his grasp. Despite the confession, the Crow didn’t look daunted, his hands still clutching to her waist.

“Do you want to stop?” She asked, shifting her weight back.

“I…“ Crow paused, his pupils blown wide, an eclipse on a sunset sky, “… I just want to touch you. Is… is that okay?”

“That’s okay.” She said, pressing a kiss to his jaw and relishing in the way he relaxed beneath her hands. His arms held her so tightly, their ribs pressed together hard enough for there to be a faint spark of pain. She didn’t care.

His fingers had found a spot beneath her collar, seeking out the soft skin at the nape of her neck. She turned her cheek against his, pressing and rubbing her lips against him more than actually kissing. Crow seemed dazed, a soft hum coming from his throat as she felt his eyelashes brush against her skin, his eyes closing.

“Is everyone this warm?” He asked, unthinking, “Sorry— weird question.”

“Probably has something to do with the Gulchshine.”

She pulled back, placing her hands on either side of his face and noting the warmth radiating from his skin.

“You’re flushed down your neck.” She said, observing the darker blue color that bloomed out over his skin.

“I’m not that drunk.”

She rose an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t drunk, just not that drunk.”

“So is this for me then?”

He didn’t answer, a sputter dying in his throat as he shook his head.

“I lied. I’m drunk.”

She laughed and kissed him again, just to be sure and he breathed into it like she was the very air he needed. An arm around her waist, his hand tangled in her hair, he followed her kiss by kiss, learning his own rhythm and occasionally trying something new. Discovering how he liked to kiss her. How he liked to be kissed back. It felt important. It felt special. These things only heightening the very intimacy of the act.

She’d never felt this way just from kissing someone before. Something she imagined they had in common.

“... if I knew it felt this good, I would have done it a long time ago.”

“You really are drunk.”

He made a questioning noise, his mouth too busy testing out the way she has kissed his neck on her own. He licked a long line up to her jaw. She had definitely not shown him that.

“People are more honest when they are drunk.” She clarified, her words veering towards breathless

“Glitch might have mentioned it.”

At the mention of the ghosts, both guardians froze, eyes drifting to where the two lights were perched, watchful but silent nearby.

They had forgotten they were there.

Oh god they had forgotten they were there.

“Don’t mind us.” Her own Ghost said, voice filled with dry amusement.

[alkhale]

Typetober Day 7: heads will roll

The back of his hand slapped Mirai’s head sideways.

He grunted, a soft, irritated noise through the disgusting piece of cloth the cursed users had shoved into his mouth. They took precautions this time. It seemed as though people were getting a little to adept at figuring out how to deal with him.

The zipties dug into Mirai’s wrist, rubbing the skin around his hands red and raw. He shuffled his feet a bit on the concrete floor, the dark, dingy lighting of the warehouse doing little aside from masking his captors in a more eerie light. Pain throbbed along the edge of his cheek, a welt growing from the reoccurring abuse. His captors lacked in creativity. The damn idiot couldn’t figure out a different spot to hit and Mirai was going to walk out of this with half his head swollen.

He sighed, aggravated through his nose in annoyance. It’s always like this.

“We’re only going to ask one more time,” the leader of the group said, crouching down beside Mirai’s chair and staring meaningfully up at him. “You’re going to tell us how our coup’ is going to go and you’re going to tell it in perfect, perfect detail so we can get all the kinks worked out, alright?”

The issue in the first place was that Mirai had tried to be helpful. He’d seen their future and it hadn’t been very pretty. He’d been feeling a little nice today, a little in better spirits, and had tried to go a more roundabout way of telling them it wouldn’t end very nicely, so they should change tactics.

They hadn’t taken too kindly to his words—stupid idiots. And had decided instead that Mirai needed to be roughed up a bit before any truth came spilling out his lips.

If there was something Mirai didn’t lie about, it was the future.

Fools.

“We’re going to take the gag out,” he said slowly, articulating his words to make sure Mirai understood. Mirai dully gazed back. “We’re going to ask one more time and—“

The entire half-entryway of the warehouse was blown open, obliterated into pure nothingness, as though ripped from existence itself.

The group of cursed users froze, staring at the decimated wreckage in disbelief. Their expression were stuck between awe-struck and ashen, trying to understand what they’d just witnessed. The warehouse groaned on its foundations, missing an entire half of it’s building. The ground behind Mirai had been ripped to shreds, void of existence as though someone had taken an eraser and dragged it through the earth.

He sat there in his chair, dully staring at the ground and ignoring the mess around him with an even more annoyed sigh.

Why?

Calm, clipped, almost lazy footsteps echoed through the wreckage of the warehouse. A lean, lanky body swayed, hopping over upturned slabs of concrete before he landed nimbly, evenly, just short of right behind Mirai’s chair with a bit of an amused hmmm.

The cursed users turned fully pale at the sight. One collapsed to his knees, legs buckling out from under him.

“I-I-I-It’s—”

Two polished shoes settled down on either side of Mirai’s chair. He ignored the show, keeping his eyes on his lap and his face vexed as long, lightly calloused fingers slowly started to drum up along Mirai’s chair, tapping into his shoulders. Mirai let out a grunt. The amused humming continued, those long fingers sliding up to grip Mirai’s shoulders, squeezing once.

“What’s going on here?” the teen behind Mirai sang, low and full of mischief. “It seems like there’s some fun happening without me...”

“It’s Satoru Gojo!” a man shouted. “Get off your asses and—“

They fell silent, stunned when Gojo calmly held a finger to his lips. He grinned approvingly at their silence, dragging his fingers up from Mirai’s shoulders to his face, prodding along his cheek. Mirai hissed when his fingers skimmed over his bruised face, feeling along without much care and he thrashed a bit in protest. Brat. “Ouch. That’s going to leave a nasty bruise.”

Mirai grunted through the gag.

“What,” Gojo sounded offended, craning his head down. Mirai refused to look at him. “At a loss for words?”

Gojo promptly tugged out the gag from Mirai’s mouth, unhooking the buckle. Mirai spat, working his sore jaw and shaking his head as Gojo let the little piece dangle from his fingers, dropping it onto the ruined floor. “There, that’s better, right?”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Mirai said.

“I know,” Gojo chirped back. “I’m going to get you back for that later.” Mirai threw him a withering look full of contempt.

Gojo’s fingers grabbed beneath his chin, forcing Mirai to crane his head and look upwards. The dark rim of his shades rested on the bridge of his nose, showing off to the world the shifting, catching glints of transcendent blue gazing right back at him. Gojo forced Mirai’s face to the side, ignoring his indignant, warning hiss and took his time running light fingers over the side of Mirai’s bruising face.

“But first,” Gojo said smoothly. His voice was low and playful, dripping with a dark sort of decadence. The cursed users stilled, frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly rolled back upwards, focusing solely on the lot of them.

Gojo neatly curled two fingers, letting his lips fall into a charming little smile. His free arm snaked itself around Mirai’s head, bringing him back almost into his chest as Gojo leaned over him, eyes glinting, almost frenzied.

“Some heads are gonna roll.”

[strange-lace]

My first thing to do knowing hyperfixating on LEGO Monkie Kid is making a role swap AU because of course, though I was also inspired by @cassidyisnowdrawing ‘s Yellow Light Verse (that I really hope it doesn’t look like I’m copying you, I did my best to make them different from each other)!

So in this role swap, while everyone’s roles in the story are swapped (Mei’s the Monkie Kid, Red is her partner in crime, and MK serves DBK and PIF) their backstories haven’t changed, if that makes sense. Now while I keep their personalities similar to canon, they’re going to still have some differences due to their different circumstances.

Mei:

Mei would be a lot more insecure and eager to prove herself, both as Sun Wukong’s successor and her worth as a person since while I’m having backstories for the characters stay the same, I could see Mei and MK both being worse off self-esteem wise without having each other around growing up. 

She’d still just as bubbly, excitable, protective, and phone savvy as Canon!Mei, if not more so on the protective aspect. Tends to go absolutely apeshit the most when someone threatens Green, Pigsy, Tang, Sandy and eventually includes MK and her own mentor, Sun Wukong, under this umbrella.

Case in point: when she sees Sun Wukong and Macaque fight. Through sheer protective anger and hurt about being betrayed allows her to lift the staff and decimate Macaque.

Sun Wukong would get attached a lot quicker to his successor in this AU because Mei just has that energy which activates Parental Instincts he didn’t even know he had.

Does noodle deliveries for Pigsy but has also makes vlogs of what it’s like working at Pigsy’s Noodles. She says it’s to better advertise the shop, but really she just likes making memories that she can look back on and show others. Starts doing it while also being the Monkie Kid and training with Wukong.

Was genuinely scared/intimidated by Demon Kid upon first meeting him but was quick to find that while he’s got the dramatics of being a villain down, he fails at the aspect of actually partaking in villainous behavior. After that, they’re quick to transition from enemies to frenemies to just being friends.

Makes no effort to hide her wanting to be friends with Demon Kid and finds his quiet bewilderment at her friendship adorable but also kind of sad. 

A troublemaker despite her innocent face, which definitely makes Sun Wukong proud to see her causing chaos and get away with it. That, alongside her kind nature, are the reasons he chose her as his successor.

Creates tech for the team alongside Green, though their differing styles of inventing can cause complications or make the inventions backfire on them both, though she takes these more in stride compared to Green.

The undefeated queen in DDR and Monkey Mecha despite Green’s multiple attempts to dethrone her.

Mei: Hey, hey DBK look at me. DBK: [turns towards Mei] Mei: [ready to kick his ass] B I T C H!

A slight bit better at focus and following Wukong’s lessons compared to Canon!MK but still tends to get ahead of herself in wanting to learn flashier techniques before even getting the basics down.

Likes to wage psychological warfare on her enemies. By that I mean, she essentially likes pulling Bugs Bunny level antics to frustrate them to do stupid stuff in combat out of anger, allowing her to fuck them up with a smile on her face.

Green (AKA Red Son)

The most changed personality wise due to different circumstances in this AU, a lot more calm and composed to counteract Mei’s hyperactive demeanor and less prone to losing his temper. Though he’s still pretty uptight.

Is still the son of DBK and PIF but he had ran away some time after DBK had been imprisoned. Makes an effort to make sure he’s not recognized by anyone, dying his hair and wearing makeup. Still wears Canon!Red Son’s shades but they’re larger and he still dresses like a rich bitch because he has standards. He refuses to wear the color red for unknown reasons to Mei and the others, at least until they find out about his family.

Just as protective of Mei as she is of him, to the point he had some objections to her being chosen as Sun Wukong’s successor but eventually let it go once he saw how important it was to her. Begrudgingly chose to fight alongside her, thinking he might as well and avoid her getting herself killed. His way of showing he cares can appear condescending but Mei has known him long enough to know he really doesn’t see her incapable of taking care of herself.

Works alongside Mei to use their combined tech knowledge to combating the threat of DBK and his demon forces. However, his inventions can also have a tendency to backfire or not work as intended, much to his frustration.

Enjoys racing on his motorbike, participating in races across the city and often winning in 1st place. He is most definitely a cocky little bastard about his skill in racing, one the few things about himself that he puts a lot of pride in.

Had a complicated relationship with Demon Kid at first. At first, he resented the other for essentially being his parents attempt to “replace” him after he ran away and led himself to believe that he was much more appreciated by his parents for his control of his flames and magic power. However, that illusion is soon shattered once he sees how Demon Kid gets when they foil his plans since he’s familiar with that look of worry and resigned accepted that he’d have to go back to DBK and PIF with another failure on his back. Tries to show empathy after that without revealing his true identity, which only causes confusion for Mei and Demon Kid on how he’s so familiar with DBK, PIF, and demon culture as a whole.

The exhausted voice of reason among the team alongside Pigsy.

Often challenges Mei to video game championships which devolve to them play fighting once Mei inevitably beats him at everything.

Has his own façade of confidence but often fears not being strong enough to keep his found family safe but is too proud to admit until someone gets injured and he starts fearing for the worst.

Sun Wukong enjoys messing with him due to his uptight nature, especially at the Monkey King’s impishness.

Goes completely feral in combat once he gets the Dragon Sword. Even before that, he was willing to run over Demon Kid’s demon puppets with his bike to give Mei a hand.

Demon Kid (AKA MK)

A kid who’s a lot like Megamind: he lives for the dramatics and presentation of being a villain but fails at actually acting villainous when it comes down to it. Does his best to appear serious, intimidating, and someone not to mess with but that façade slips very often when it comes to things like being complimented or when someone mentions the Monkey King and he turns out to be a complete dork.

Not the son of DBK and PIF, but rather a low level demon that PIF had chose to be help her free DBK after Red Son had disappeared and she was left alone. Mainly because Demon Kid had no one else either and she saw potential with his strong magic, though it was rather out of control when they met. PIF had decided alongside DBK that they��d keep him around as an assistant/minion of sorts once he had helped her free DBK.

Since he doesn’t have Canon!Red Son’s prowess with technology, I considered instead that he’s skilled with magic and his own fire powers, using them a lot more in combat or during his schemes against Mei’s team. Still a major contributor to DBK’s army, but instead of the mechanical Bull Clones, perhaps Demon Kid instead supplies his king with sentient demon puppets given life through his magic. The armor can run the same, except with a magical angle instead of technology.

I have this idea that he’s actually able to pull out Sun Wukong’s staff on his own, much to his surprise. He’s quick to try and say it was due to a spell when PIF questions this. He’s left both amazed and terrified at the mere possibility of him being worthy to wield the staff of Sun Wukong himself.

His first meeting with Mei plays out similar to the show’s canon, though instead he intended on teleporting Mei away with a spell under the guise of “eliminating” her for DBK. Even while chasing her through the city, he was going to simply take the staff and scare her enough to never cross the Demon Bull King again. He tries to convince himself it’s to allow fear of DBK to be spread by leaving her alive but really, he just could never bring himself to kill or seriously harm someone.

Though like Canon!Red Son, he’s prone to losing his temper with others before immediately apologizing afterwards out of reflex. Also tends to teleport away from situations when he’s embarrassed himself, often saying he’s only allowing Mei and Green to win this time but next time will be different.

Spoiler alert: It rarely ever is.

DBK and PIF are often frustrated with Demon Kid because they know he has potential to bring Sun Wukong’s successor and her team to their knees with his powers and knowledge of magical spells but he fails to fulfill this because of his own inability to be cruel. They’re both like that episode of Spongebob where Plankton tries to teach him to be assertive/aggressive except they’re both Plankton and Demon Kid is Spongebob.

Quickly becomes attached to Mei and Green since they’re genuinely nice to him and while he insists that it’s because they’re his “personal archenemies”, he most definitely sees them as his friends and is constantly coming up with flashier schemes to impress/amuse them as well as get feedback from them. Was actually really lonely before meeting them, having to use his demon puppets for company. His attachment to Mei and Green can quickly evolve to possessiveness when he thinks someone is trying to take them away, whether they be other enemies that decide to fight them or a friend who is simply spending noticeable amount of time with them.

In the case of someone else trying to kill them, Demon Kid would be quick to shut that down and make that person immediately regret it since, in his words, he’s the only one allowed to destroy the two. This is one of the few situations where he gets completely serious and doesn’t bother with the theatrics.

Does his best to make himself look scary such as shoes to make him appear taller, jagged face paint, and perhaps sharp eyeliner to imitate PIF since he sees everyone fears her.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Animal Planet.”

I had the sudden desire to do one of those documentary style episodes today, so that is what you are going to get. This will probably have one or more episodes, but it should be fun. Hope you all like :)

“Ok, ok ok, everyone listen up!... QUIET DOWN PLEASE…. Ok very very good. Now we have been cordially invited to interact with a very special group while they are being quartered here on our planet.”

“Don’t you mean you pestered begged and threatened?”

“You know what, you, you can shut up.”

‘Why are we doing this anyway. Humans aren’t all that interesting anymore?” 

“That is where you are wrong! Universe-wide opinion polls state that, behind the drama with the LFIL, humans at large and the most sought after topic in the galaxy. My other sources tell me that only 5% of the galactic population has ever even seen a human. You should read some of the rumors about them, it is quite stimulating. 

“How did you even get this to work?”

“The humans seem to want good PR as much as we want good entertainment. Alright everyone! GET YOUR CAMERAS READY!” “Do you want us to turn on the translation software?” 

“No, of course not, well for everyone accept humans.”

“Why.”

“Well the public won’t exactly get a great thrill from them if they think they are intelligent speaking creatures now will they.”

“But they are?” 

“Shut up, and get ready.” 

“Three….. two ….. One.” 

“HELLO EVERYONE! I am Mendex of the Tesraki, and today on my journey through the universe to meet some of the most dangerous species known to the galaxy, I have taken a stop back on my own planet for a rare opportunity. Now my researchers have come up with a few statistics I would like to share with you before we begin. According to intergalactic poles only five percent of the universal population has ever met, in person, one of these creatures. Number two, since their introduction, these creatures have been the cause for a 15% incline in death rate and a .2% drop in life expectancy for your average dweller of the GA. They can digest metal,, and reports say that they evolved to run their prey to death….. A slow death towards exhaustion.”

The camera pans slowly over the face of the Mendex, his light brown fur accented by a scruffy red scarf around his neck. They are walking up a grassy pathway, though the grass comes in shades of purple and blue instead of green.

“Now as I said before, I have been given a rare opportunity to interact with these creatures in their own environment. Now based on the concerns of some of my producers, we will not be allowed to go in alone, but have connected with an Expert who will take us through safety. Now as I understand it, this expert has left society to spend entire swaths of time with these creatures. He claims to have been incorporated into their pack and has enough social standing with them that he will be able to protect us while we interact.” 

The ground grows steep for a moment as the camera moves up a hill and over the other side.

“Ah, there it is, their hive. Look at it. Now not much is known about how they build such complicated structures, but we do know that they enjoy the use of very hard sharp lines and corners. “ They trundle down another hill and towards the ship sat crouched in a field. Overhead clouds pass over the star.

“Oh, and there is our expert, waiting for us at the entrance to the hive.

The camera cuts for a second, and when it comes on the Tesraki and a Vrul are sitting side by side at the base of the hive.

“No more suspense. It is time for me to tell you what we are going to be seeing today….. HUMANS. Yes that’s right everyone, I have been given access to a human pack and the expert who has been living with them for the past few cycles now.” He turns to the Vrul sitting by his side, “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself and your research, Docotr.”

The little creature glances up at the sun and then back towards the cameras, “Well I am Dr. Krill, and I have been working as a surgeon for as long as I can remember.” “As A surgeon, how did you end up here?” 

“Well, that is actually an interesting story. I was working at the Thevel-1 Andromeda Trauma center, when a human ship actually called in for an emergency landing. One of the humans had been involved in some sort of freak accident on board, and they required immediate medical attention, so I men them in the trauma bay, and, I will leave the details out, but as it turned out one of the humans had a metal rod logged in his brain, through the orbital socket.”

“No, you’re kidding me?”

“Not even a little. I had never seen anything like it. Accidents like that result in visits to the morgue, not the hospital, but the human was still alive, so I removed the object and watched his recovery. Now at this point I was so fascinated that I couldn’t just let them go. There was so much for me to learn.”

“So just like that, you hopped on a human ship, and went gallivanting across the galaxy.”

“I know, sounds strange every time I hear about it, hardly something I would do.”

“What was that like, first day aboard a human ship, surrounded by predators.”

“Terrifying as you might imagine. I was convinced that I was going to get eaten or worse, but of course I never did.”

“Now why don’t you tell us a little about humans.

“Well, Mendex, the first thing you should know about humans is how social they are. Humans generally require SOME contact with other humans weather it be in large group units or at least one other human that they can interact with. It is such a big deal in fact that isolation can drive a human to madness or worse. They are very perceptive to social situations, and that is what made my first day so terrifying because the humans have many social rules that are expected to be followed that just never crossed my mind.”

“And how dangerous would you say a human is?”

“Well that depends entirely on the human and the situation. If a human thinks they are in danger, they will either run or they will fight. Humans have a special hormonal response that, during times of extreme stress, can allow them to life objects up to 500% their own body weight. For most of us a human, even the weakest humans, have the ability to maim, injure or severely mutilate.” he held up a hand, “however, I am not saying that to make you wary of humans, they are generally very friendly and curious creatures, and as long as they don’t feel threatened they will at least be tolerant of you.”

“Why are humans so dangerous?”

“Well that is a funny question, it actually stems from the simple fact that humans aren't actually all that dangers…. At least not on their planet, on the basis of raw power or predatory instincts.”

“Fascinating, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that humans were not originally a predator species, in fact they are actually pretty poor hunters compared to most everything on their planet. In fact prey animals have been known to maul humans if provoked. Humans are probably the LEAST durable species on their planet. They adapted to survive in a world where the prey animals were dangerous and the predators could decimate them with the sweep of a paw.”

“Is that why they are a pack-creature.”

“Precisely, you see, a single human has a very low likelihood of being dangerous on their own planet, but together they can hunt creatures three four five times their own size if not more. You see comparatively to other animals of their planet, humans are slow, weak, with a poor sense of smell, hearing and even sight, but they had the one thing that sentient life is known for, and that is intelligence. This intelligence allowed they to group together and create a strategy for surviving in a hostile environment. That then led them to the building of weapons and machines to the point that survival was no longer an issue, and hunting even the most dangerous of their previous predators had become laughable.” 

“That is fascinating, to think that a creature that dangerous could be so weak on their planet….. Have you met any of these other dangerous species?”

“Actually, yes/ Humans are so social and pack oriented that they have the ability to bond with non-sentient animals. They call it domestication, and it requires an animal to be, pack oriented, easy to feed, and have a short gestation period. The humans then take that animal and only allow the breeding of animals with specific desirable traits. In fact, they took a similar pack predator, and used their natural sociability to integrate them into human packs. The humans keep them as pets and began to use them as hunting partners considering their new pack member was faster, stronger, had a better sense of smell and hearing, but was now loyal to its human companions.”

“That doesn’t sound real.”

“Oh but it is. We have one aboard the ship.”

“And this creature could rip the humans apart?”

“Oh pretty easily, especially if she had the element of surprise.”

“Amazing, so what do we need to know before we get on the ship with you, you know for our safety and security.”

The doctor shifts in place. He is making a strange expression that seems unnatural for a Vrul, “Well you have to be aware that the humans have a strict hierarchy. When you get on the ship you are immediately assigned a specific sort of guest place in this hierarchy. The human pack alpha that runs the ship is higher than you as well as the betas below him and their immediate underlings. You can assume that your comfort is more important than the low ranking humans but you MAY NOT order them around since it is not your place and you have not been accepted into the pack. Generally speaking though, a human ship is a relatively safe place as long as you are polite, apologetic, and willing to do what is asked of you. Now the humans are likely to be very curious, try not to show signs of fear, but if you do they aren’t going to attack or anything. Depending on the human they may or may not gently mess with you, they may playfully try to dominate or scare you for their own amusement, but don’t worry they aren't likely to attack. Do not make any disparaging remarks or insult the humans.”

“Are humans very sensitive to verbal attacks?”

“Some are and some aren’t. In the case of insulting a human, I have found that it is not generally the human you have insulted that you should be afraid of, but the other humans around the human you have insulted. You see many humans have no issue in making an insult, but will not tolerate one directed at one of their pack members. They are very protective of each other, especially the alpha. It is also a good idea not to insult objects that belong to humans. The human bonding instinct is strong enough that they will bond to objects. So the ship for example, do not offend the ship. I made that mistake on my first day and thought the alpha was going to tear out my throat.”

There was a shifting amongst the crew.

“What are the rules on touching.”

“That is complicated, it also depends on the human. The general rule is not to go up and touch a human without permission. If a human approaches you first, you may make contact with them. Generally hands and arms are acceptable to touch though I would suggest avoiding any other part of the human anatomy for the sake of their privacy. Humans are very very serious about their personal space and their personal privacy 

“Are there any warning signs that we should be aware of, just in case.”

The doctor nodded, “Well there are a few things. Humans have a warning call they use to indicate to other humans that something is wrong, it generally indicates pain or immediate danger and is specifically designed to get attention and bring other humans to assist. This involves a high pitched sort of keening, it is very loud and very powerful, and will hurt your ears if you aren't careful. Generally though, I have only ever heard it used on a few occasions. As far as more subtle things to look at. If a human gets into a defensive posture in your direction it isn't a good sign. They will bend at the knees and have their hands up to protect their face. Their chins will be lowered to cover their necks. Another important signal to look at is the face. A frowning human could either be thinking or they could be anger. That is when the mouth sort of dips on either end like this…. Yes…. yes like that. But the important thing to look at is the eyes. The eyes will always give them away.”

“What is so important about the eyes.”

“Well, human eyes are enormously expressive. I swear by them personally. Humans have this habit of pretending one thing but meaning another, and looking at the eyes can tell you that. Eyebrows slanted down is generally a good indicator. A frown mixed with slanted eyebrows and…. Its hard to explain. If you look into the eyes and feel as if their expression could kill you, you probably want to stop doing whatever you are doing. Also sudden silence isn’t entirely a good thing either. Humans love talking to each other, there is always someone speaking, most of the tie, but if you are in an area with many humans and none of them are speaking there is either something wrong, or they have been ordered to behave that way”

“What is a good indicator of a happy human.”

“It seems strange, but showing their teeth is a good sign most of the time. A curious human is generally a happy human. They like learning and interacting with their environment, so encourage curiosity and the showing of teeth. Also there is a strange sound they make, sort of a repetitive revving noise that comes from the back of the throat or the chest. That means that the human is amused, and that should also be encouraged.”

“Alright…. Do you think we are ready.”

“I think so…. Follow me.”

The crew gets up and the feed cuts to black.

This episode will continue after the break.

[nethandrake]

The Friendversary

stevetony. mcu. rated t. werewolf!steve & vampire!tony au. 2.3k words.

also on ao3.

*****

Tony barely registers the voice calling his name. He should roll over, get out of bed, and check. It could be an emergency. Hell, maybe the apartment’s on fire or they’re in the midst of being robbed.

But then, he could just keep his eyes closed and stay in bed. He can’t remember the last time he got a decent day of sleep. To take that away from him is daylight robbery.

Besides, Steve can handle things. Steve with the broad shoulders with arms that could probably bench press Tony if he asked. Steve who could tear limbs apart as easy as breathing because he’s a freaking—

“—ony. Rise and shine!”

But of course like everything in life, Tony could never get things his way.

He lets out a grunt, moving to cover his ears with his pillow. “Ugh, go away.”

Unsurprisingly, the pillow is yanked out from under him. His head hits the mattress with a soft thump, a quiet groan tumbling out of his lips.

“Tony,” the voice says, much more insistent and familiar.

Goddamn dog.

“Fuck off. It’s morning.”

“The sun just set, actually.”

As if by magic, some of the grogginess Tony feels dissipates. He cracks an eyelid open, meeting a pair of perfectly blue eyes and a perfectly cheery smile and a big dopey mug. It's a sight Tony never, ever wants to be greeted with this early in the night.

“I hate you.”

Steve smirks, leaning against his doorway with his arms across his chest. “You say this now but wait ‘till I drink all your blood.”

“You don’t drink blood.”

“I might. Just to give it a go.”

Tony scoffs, motioning to sit on the edge of his bed. “That’s what you said six decades ago,” he says, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes. “And what happened after?”

Steve scowls. “You’ll never let that go, huh?”

“I would if you’d stop threatening me about it.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Well, you can nag me about it later,” Steve says, detaching himself from the doorframe. “Meet me up on the rooftop.”

Tony frowns. “Rooftop? Why are we—”

That’s when he notices Steve’s getup – a dress shirt that brings out the silver in his eyes, slacks, and a pair of ankle socks. His typical tousled hair is slicked back. Tony’s pretty sure it’s gelled.

Steve doesn’t dress up often and since they’re meeting up on the rooftop, that could only mean one thing.

His lips twist into a smirk, taking a couple of steps backwards. He probably noticed Tony forgot, the bastard.

“C’mon, Tony,” he says in a sing-song voice. “We’re burning moonlight.”

Tony rolls his eyes, flinging the covers off his body. “I’ll be there. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me being— What?”

Steve startles, tearing his gaze away from Tony’s…body?

“Nothing!” he exclaims, his voice a couple of decimals higher than usual. “I just— Yeah.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort as Steve zips away. Sometimes, Steve would be reduced to a stuttering mess out of the blue for no explainable reason. There might be an explanation though if Steve doesn’t wear scent blockers.

Then again, so does Tony. He shouldn’t be annoyed with Steve doing the same. It’s only natural to wear them since they're living in a city mostly populated by humans.

Tony takes his time in the shower, getting dressed, and styling his hair. If anyone could see him right now, they'd probably think about how ridiculous he's being, how effort he's wasting. It’s dinner with Steve, after all. Tony could be wearing a rucksack and Steve wouldn’t even bat an eye.

To be fair, today's their anniversary. The occasion is basically screaming for cologne and hairspray.

“Time flies huh,” Tony mutters to himself as he fastens his cape around his neck. “Five hundred goddamn years.”

It’s a miracle that they’ve lasted this long as friends, let alone best friends, and roommates. He can’t imagine if they actually did something dumb like date each other. They probably would’ve only lasted a month or two. Maybe a year, at most.

Or maybe if you actually tried shooting your shot—

Tony shakes his head as he unlocks his balcony door and steps outside. There’s no point dwelling on that right now or ever, even. Steve’s a werewolf. And werewolves wouldn’t be wasting time on giving people like Tony a second glance. They’d be focused on finding mates.

Mates who’d be furry and smelly and enjoy roaming around in the woods for the rest of eternity. Not bloodsucking nocturnals who fly around and live in graveyards.

Not that Tony is living in a graveyard right now, but the notion still stands. They’ve been going strong for five hundred years. Why try ruining things?

Steve’s already on the rooftop, sitting on a picnic blanket with a basket by his side. He flashes Tony a broad grin, all canine and bright. In all his six hundred and eleven years of living, Tony’s never seen such a beautiful person be this dorky.

“You do know there’s a perfectly functioning elevator, right?” Steve drawls out as Tony lands on the edge of the rooftop.

Tony shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I need to stretch my legs. Plus, it’s more fun to scare the humans.”

“Yeah. If you’re into endangering the whole mythical community.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He sweeps his cape behind him, spreading his hands. “Well, how do I look?”

Steve pauses, his eyes roaming around, drinking Tony in. “You look… You look…”

“I better looking dashing,” Tony interrupts. “You know me and mirrors. I wouldn’t have asked you if—”

“You definitely do,” Steve interrupts, a little too earnest than Tony deems necessary. “You look beautiful.”

There’s an odd intensity behind Steve’s blue, blue eyes. Tony makes a mental note to reexamine that later.

“So,” he begins, breaking the silence as he settles down next to Steve, “what’d you got for us tonight?”

They usually take turns getting dinner together. While Tony leans towards more expansive and refined options, Steve’s tastes are much simpler. This year, he's opted for burgers and fries for himself and a homemade blend of cow’s blood, pomegranate, and strawberries for Tony. Just the sight of the crimson liquid being poured into his wine glass has Tony salivating.

“Well,” Steve begins, raising his bottle of lemonade in the air, “here’s to five hundred years of friendship.”

“And five hundred more,” Tony adds, clinking their drinks together. “Until you meet your mate, that is.”

Whenever Tony brings up the M-word, Steve freezes up. This time is no different.

“Tony—”

“I know you hate all the mate talk but as I said before—”

“Tony—”

“—I don’t think you’d want to spend the rest of your life—”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Steve interrupts, his time firmer. “Please?”

Tony sighs, taking a large gulp from his glass. He almost moans at the clash of flavors swirling around on his tongue. The irony of a werewolf brewing one of the best vampire drinks Tony’s ever tasted. “Alright, alright.”

Dinner goes without a hitch, after that. They fall back into their usual topics of conversation of work and friends, making sure to steer clear of any talk of romance and mates.

“You know,” Tony begins after the food has been cleared and they’ve finished a lapse of comfortable silence. “I always thought about how funny this is.”

“What?”

“This…” He gestures between the two of them. “This…thing. You know.”

Steve’s lips quirk to the side. “What? That we get along?”

“Not that. Although that has cropped up pretty often. I mean, us. Having an anniversary for our friendship. Like, who does that?”

“Carol and Maria do,” Steve points out.

“Yeah. And they started dating a couple of years after. Try again.”

“Does it matter?”

Tony sighs, waving his hand around. “I don’t know. I just— Isn’t this something you do with your mate?”

The smile on Steve’s face slides off. “Tony—”

“Or at least someone you’re attracted to. ‘Cause let me tell you, nothing kills the mood better than—”

“Tony!”

Immediately, Tony’s jaw clamps shut.

Steve’s shoulders sag but his blue eyes are still stormy with anger. “Jesus, Tony. I told you to drop it.”

“I know—”

“I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me finding a mate.”

Tony picks at the hem of his cape. “It’s been five hundred years, Steve. I just— Aren’t you lonely?”

“Why would I be lonely?” Steve asks, sounding puzzled. “I have you.”

If Tony still has a pulse, he’d be pretty sure it’ll be racing right now. “That’s different,” he says slowly. “We’re friends. Just friends. Friends with a capital ‘F’.”

A heavy silence shrouds them. For a moment, Tony feels stupid. Exposed. He shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, he really should’ve kept his mouth shut and—

“What if I don’t want to be friends.”

Wait, what?

“What if I want to be more than friends,” Steve continues, wringing his hands, his cheeks reddening with each passing second. “What if—”

“You want us to be mates?!”

If he isn’t a vampire, he probably would’ve chalked it up to him hearing things. Then again, being a vampire hasn’t stopped him from hallucinating and hearing things.

Steve winces, his whole face now turning crimson red. Hell, even the tip of his ears is a bright shade of blush. It’s goddamn adorable.

“Only if you want to,” he says. “I know we’ve never talked about it and I know you don’t feel the same way—”

Tony reaches out, curling his fingers around Steve’s wrist, putting a stop to his escape. Fortunately for him and his hand, Steve doesn’t fight him off.

“Woah, woah. What the hell do you mean I know?”

Steve frowns. “Don’t you?”

“No! ‘Course not.”

As quickly as it came, the color in Steve’s cheeks drains.

“Oh,” he breathes out, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought you knew. ‘Cause you know, super senses.”

Tony frowns, puzzled. “You wear scent blockers.”

“I don’t mask my heartbeat,” Steve counters. “C’mon. You’d had to know how it races when I’m around you—”

“That’s corny as fuck.”

“Just saying the truth, is all.”

“I—” Tony racks his brain, trying to recall something. Anything.

He comes up empty.

“I mean, I don’t have the best memory around—” Steve cocks an eyebrow. “What? You know I’m right!”

His lips tug to the side, staring at him with stark disbelief.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Cut me some slack, Steven. I’ve been dead for centuries. Excuse me for not remembering. I figured that was your regular heartbeat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, what about you, huh?” Tony shoots back. “You had to know I’ve been drooling over you for four hundred and ninety-nine years!”

Steve’s eyes widen, his lips parting. It’s times like these that the vampire that turned Tony all those centuries ago actually sucked him dry.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Someone kill me—”

“You’re already dead.”

“I know,” Tony moans. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’re attracted to a corpse. A fucking corpse!”

Steve snorts, mischief lacing his tone. “I don’t know. You look pretty lively to me.”

“Shut up. This isn’t funny, Rogers,” Tony mutters before lifting his head up. “Do you really want to shackle yourself to me for another five hundred years?”

Steve deepens his grin, a grin that Tony could only describe as wolfish. “I mean, we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

“I guess. But we’d be together. In a relationship. Until you get sick and tired of me—”

“I won’t,” Steve insists like the dumbass he is. “Like I said before, we’ve gotten this far.”

“Yeah?”

He gets a kiss in answer.

Steve’s lips are soft and warm against him. Tony can’t remember the last time he’s felt this good, this thrilled, this warm.

He doesn’t know how long this goes on, losing track of time and himself into this moment, into finally. It’s only that when they do pause for Steve to catch his breath, Tony realizes he’s in Steve’s lap, his thighs clamping Steve in place and his cape pooling at his feet.

“You taste of wet dog,” he murmurs.

“And you taste of blood,” Steve breathes, tightening his grip on Tony’s waist and god, Tony wants. He wants and needs everything.

“That gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. Not in the slightest.” He sighs against his lips and fuck, he is warm and he smells faintly of pine and vanilla – a combination Tony never thought could make him weak in the knees. He can’t imagine how overwhelming it’ll be when the scent blocker fades away.

“I can’t believe we wasted five hundred years,” Steve continues. “We could’ve had— We could’ve been—”

“Could’ve been mates?”

He blinks, his smile flickering. “I mean, only if you want to. You don’t—”

“Have I forgot to mention that I’ve been in love with you for four hundred and ninety-nine years?” Steve opens his mouth but Tony cuts him off. “And before you ask, no, I don’t care what people think about us. People have been assuming for years, anyway.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Steve says. “I was actually going to say I’ve been in love with you for four hundred and ninety-nine years and five months. So.”

Tony cocks an eyebrow. “And you say I’m stupid for a genius all the time.”

“I mean, I am a dumb dog.”

“A dumb dog who chose a bloodsucker as his mate.”

Steve scowls. “Hey. That’s my bloodsucker you’re talking about.”

Tony hums as he snakes his hands around Steve’s neck. “This bloodsucker is also in the mood to suck something else.”

“That was terrible.”

“Please. You love it.”

Steve grins as he tilts his head forward. “Guess I do.”