#and that changing would leave them all out of sort

[technically-human]

We're drawing the idiots with traditional clothing from our countries? hell yeah, here's stobotnik as Argentinian gauchos!

Plus a very normal and not at all unhinged rant about mate (the thing they're drinking) in the tags.

[goddamnitmahtin]

Real Robins Can Fly

( a dc x dp prompt)

As a part of a charity event, Bruce holds a cosplay contest where contestants show off their cosplays, explain their processes and even show off a little if they have a talent of some sort that kind of fits the theme of the character.

Problem? Everyone he invited to be judges at the event are league members and they all had a case suddenly interfere so Bruce and his colleagues can’t show up. So he asks Dick to round up as many of his siblings as he can to be judges for this event. The lineup ends up being Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie and Damian. Duke was almost able to make it but he got caught up with work.

Dick was surprised that Damian even wanted to come considering he was drowning himself in studying for his finals. He was about to graduate high school and wanted to make sure his gpa was flawless. Nevertheless, he found a way to drag his youngest brother out of the library and into the judges panel.

The contest was fine. Most people dressed as local vigilantes or villains that were easy to recognize. There were some really good ones. There were a few that none of them recognized. A few only Tim recognized. Apparently they were from animes or something.

The day dragged on and on, all of them having to stop for breaks at different points. Dick needed to get up and walk around because sitting in one place for too long made his joints hurt. Jason had to leave to do breathing exercises when a really accurate second Robin cosplayer came through holding a crowbar of all things. Tim had to leave a few times to make phone calls as co CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Steph called the babysitter (Cass) a few times about her now 2 year old daughter. And Damian used every single one of those breaks to cram in more studying.

What nothing that day could have prepared them for was the last contestant. The 13 year old boy walked onto the stage with a huge smile in a perfect replica of Dick’s very first Robin suit. Down to the last detail everything was correct. Except that… it had been torn up and damaged in places and there were painted on bruises and wounds in the places missing fabric. Part of the mask was ripped off and being held in the boy’s hand. And the face underneath that broken mask looked just like Tim.

Tim: *after recovering faster than everyone else* Wow. What a suit! What’s your name and tell the process of creating your cosplay.

Danny: *smiles* I’m Danny! I’m 13 years old and I wanted to be Robin! Robin is my favorite vigilante because he’s an inspirational figure for younger people. I decided to design my outfit based on the very first Robin in his first ever suit that he was spotted in but I wanted to pay homage to all of the Robins so I changed it up a little bit. I studied the Robins from the past in photos and was able to come up with at least one thing from each.

Steph: I see. Could you show us these homages?

Danny: YES! *his eyes glowed green in excitement, catching Jason and Damian off guard* I designed the suit itself to look like the first Robin as he was the pioneer of the Robin title but I made the entire outfit from materials only used on the current Robin. As you can see the color scheme for the suit is more muted than the original as the current Robin uses shadows and corners more for attacks than the others did.

Damian: *smiles slightly*

Danny: I chose my wounds and distresses in the costume based on photos of the second and third Robins. They took more physical blows than the rest did. *pointing to each wound, pointing to one in the abdomen* This one is just a theory of mine but I think the third Robin might of at one point had a surgery around here from his fighting style. He would protect his abdomen from attack more.

Tim: …… I see.

Danny: And the fourth Robin was a deviation from the pattern because she was a girl that didn’t have the dark hair that all the others had. She wasn’t Robin for very long but her style and decision making were more unpredictable than the rest so if you just give me a second… *fidgets with his gloves for a moment* Whole watching her footage I noticed how her hair was accounted for in her fighting style without it ever getting into her way. *slides off his glove* So on my wrist I have a replica of the headband she used in her suit but smaller so it’s more of a bracelet.

Steph: *noticing how accurate it is* Oh- wow-

Jason: That’s really impressive Danny. Tell us a little bit more about how you actually created the suit. Your process.

Danny: Well the entire thing is made of an armored flex material that I made in my sister’s basement. I studied pictures of all of the Robin suits and noticed parts of the fabric that stood out and made my prototype from there. *smiles* I have a small sample for you guys to pass around! *hands Jason said sample*

Jason: Oh that’s really impressive-

Tim: You said you made it in your sister’s basement? How did your parents feel about it?

Danny: My parents are gone. It’s just me and Jazz. I spent all of my money on the materials to make this. I’m hoping to win because the prize money will be enough for her to buy a car so she can find a new job. And maybe with the rest I’ll finally be able to go to space camp this summer. I’ve always wanted to go! But we could never afford it.

Steph: *covers her gasp softly* Oh-

Damian: Did you have a talent you wanted to show off for us today?

Danny: YES! *pumps his fist excitedly*

Damian: Could you demonstrate that for us please?

Danny: Okay! *climbs up the light tower next to the stage and hangs from the metal bars like a proper gymnast before jumping off, flipping and grabbing frames and pieces of rigging to swing from, replicating old tricks Dick used to do as Robin that he learned in the circus before flipping down and landing nimbly in the center of the stage* Tadah!

Dick: *absolutely shook* Why did you- choose that as your talent?

Danny: Real robins can fly. So why can’t I?

After Danny leaves the stage, it takes a few minutes for them all to collect themselves from that. Especially Dick.

Steph: So that Danny kid is gonna win.

Tim: 100 percent. He was able to recreate the fabric we make our suits out of through pictures!

Jason: We better not tell Bruce or-

Damian: Too late. I already texted father. He’s drafting adoption papers as we speak.

Dick: *who was planning on doing that himself* Dammit!

Damian: I for one, am thrilled at the prospect that this Danny child will take up the Robin mantle when I leave for college.

Steph: Well real robins can fly so why shouldn’t he? *smiles*

Dick: Stephanie I’m literally going to cry.

[melodiesz]

I really liked the obey me sleeping with them for the first time post you wrote! Can I request the same thing for Satan Solomon and Mammon too? :)

Their first time with you ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

ft: Mammon, Solomon, & Belphegor x gn!reader

Here’s the one with Satan! tysm for the request! ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

MAMMON

☆ Mammon acts all high and mighty but I think he's actually pretty inexperienced.

☆ In true mammon fashion he talks cocky but the second he sees you there under him—bare and looking so pretty—his mind goes blank.

☆ He turns to a blushing, stuttering mess and your first time is filled with stumbling and laughter.

☆ Tries to stifle his noises, but after like 10 seconds he can't handle it anymore and lets out pathetic moans and groans of your name into your ear.

☆ Will beg to go a second round after, then a third, then a fourth...the greedy fuck wouldn't stop until you're both crying from overstimulation.

☆ Leaves hickeys all over your neck so he can look at them later and smile proudly at the look on other peoples faces when they see them. He likes knowing that other people can see that you're his.

☆ Would get as deep as possible inside you to rock his hips so his tip grinds against your sweet spot, trying to make you cum again for the nth time as he begs you to "please baby, give me another one."

☆ Do be warned, now that he's got a taste of you, he’s begging you for it multiple times a day. ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

SOLOMON

⏾ With Solomon, it sort of feels like you're a test subject under his strong gaze.

⏾ He has a calculated expression, hands roaming your body like he owns it. Whenever you make a noise when he touches a certain spot, his expression doesn't change, like he already expected the reaction.

⏾ He knows every spot to make you shake and moan, like you've done this together before.

⏾ He has the kind of expertise only an immortal can, making you cum at least 3 times before he even looks close to hitting his own climax.

⏾ Speaking of, he doesn't care about his own pleasure. He gets off on seeing the reactions and noises he can pull out of you, how many times he can make you cum before you pass out.

"Too much? Come on, you can take it."

⏾ DEFINITELY leaves very clear hickeys on your neck just to piss off the brothers. It works.

⏾ Later he has you fucked out, laying on your back on the bed staring at the ceiling trying to remember how to think, and just smiles and offers you water like he didn't just fuck your soul out.

BELPHEGOR

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 With Belphegor it's a spur of the moment thing. For possibly the first time ever he wakes up before you, and just watches your peaceful sleeping face, which suddenly turns into him getting hard.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 When you wake up to a deep call of your name, you turn to find him above you, arms braced beside your head and cheeks flushed. "mc... need you.”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Fucks you in spooning position, your back against his chest and his face buried in your neck as he gives slow but hard thrusts into you, holding up one of your thighs for better access.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 His deep morning voice is enough to make you flush, groaning your name into your neck before he moves to kiss at it.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 His other hand would reach under you to grab your throat, not harshly, but just to feel your pulse under his fingers and know that it was him and his dick so deep inside you that had it quickening.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Would pull away for a moment to admire his pact mark on your back, proof of the claim he has on you enough to have him spilling inside you with a shaky moan.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 When you two are done, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you somehow even closer, falling asleep with his dick still deep inside you.

a/n: I am SO sorry I took so long to write this!! I don't even know if you still want this but I finally have a break from school and work for a bit so I will be trying to write lots! (ᵕ•_•)

[bratbarzal]

Oh I would kill to see luke and his lover travelling europe idk :’)

I sort of have a ~vacation thing in the pipeline for them so I'm gonna bullet point some random thoughts on this while they're fresh in my brain bc I love the idea of them having a little european trip together and doing it the authentic way bc they're just two kids in love and exploring the world!! not super in depth bc like I said there's something else in the works but I am really enjoying doing these extended thoughts!!

luke is the ultimate airport boyfriend no one can change my mind!! like standing in the check in queue with his arm slung over your shoulders or you're in front of him and his chin is resting on your head as he watches the boards to figure out where your gate is!! and he's hauling both of your cases around even though you say you're fine to wheel them, but you like watching as he lifts them onto the belt, and you like eyeing up the way his sleeves cling to his muscles when he's leaning on the desk and going through all the information with the guy behind it!!

and obviously his first thought when you're through security is food, so you're walking hand in hand and he's pretending like he's giving you the choice but he's lowkey dragging you to wherever he wants to go, and you both end up getting burgers and he steals your fries when he's done with his, but you're used to his crappy distraction techniques by now so you just let him do it!! and the two of you have a whole thing where you're swapping parts of your burgers like he'll take your pickles and you'll take his tomato and you just do it without asking because you guys eat so often together that it's just normal!!

and he'll smell all the perfume testers with you in the duty free store!! and try on a bunch of sunglasses and you're taking a bunch of pictures of him in shades that make him look like a bug or an alien hahaha!! but he buys some unisex fragrance you can share and it's that thing where it's the only thing the two of you will spray while you're away so that it will always remind you of that vacation!! and it ends up being a cute tradition every time you leave the country!!

the only thing you'd let him splurge on for the whole trip is the extra leg room seats, and he just about convinces you that premium economy is the way to go, so he gets to stretch out his legs and you get to cuddle into his side with the arm rest raised and you share a set of earphones to watch some random movie on the flight together 🥺 like you don't even bother syncing screens you'll just lay your head on his shoulder and snuggle his bicep and probably fall asleep on him while he's watching conclave or smth

and the two of you aren't exactly hostel hopping but you really wanted a lowkey trip so the hotels you stay in are all super cosy and small, because you're spending most of your time out and exploring anyway, so when you're in your room you're constantly all up in each other's space, and he's always bumping into you and grabbing at you to move you out of the way, and it's all just super intimate and precious to you that you get to be a normal young couple doing normal things away from like him being recognised all the time back home, or not being entirely secure in such a random hotel - when you're away, it's a bit like the bubble you get at the lake house, where he's just Luke, your boyfriend, not Luke Hughes.

and he's been to Europe on tournaments before but he's never been able to properly explore, so you do all this touristy coupley stuff together!! and Luke very much gives goofball energy like if he was in a relationship I don't think he'd be all mr cool I think he'd embrace getting to do dorky shit so like he's eating food from street vendors with absolutely no etiquette, and he's making wishes throwing coins in fountains and taking pictures "resting on" the leaning tower of pisa or pinching at the Eiffel Tower - speaking of have you ever seen those videos of dua lipa and Callum turner dancing near the Eiffel Tower???? they give me Luke and lih!reader vibes all the time they're so cute!!

and Luke is the perfect victim of a tourist trap so he's getting his portrait done by those whacky artists who draw your mouth about half the size of your face and they make his curls all crazy and his neck super long lmao!! and he's getting suckered into buying you flowers all the time off of the ladies who say it's romantic - and yeah, even if the roses aren't real, it is romantic because he gets all blushy and bashful about it!! and he says you have to collect fridge magnets for everywhere you go as a memento because you're not bulking up your luggage but it's cute to have something back home that reminds you of being away together!! and he's super serious about his fridge magnet criteria so you let him have the last say even if they're going on your fridge.

also he's clinging onto you for dear life everywhere you go. your hand doesn't leave his in public, and he's cuddling you in the back of taxis, and standing behind you with his arms draped over you in museums, you're tangling legs under the tables in restaurants, and falling asleep on his shoulder on trains!! bc physical touch Luke is the realest thing to me!!

and one more thing bc I love this concept is he's obviously way quicker at getting ready than you so he'll always sit by you while you're getting ready and just watch and talk to you like you curling your hair is the most interesting thing in the world!! and he's weirdly intimidated by a curling iron but one time he offers to do it for you and he doesn't burn you by some miracle so he's always doing the back of your head while he yaps lmao!! he's always zipping the back of your dresses, and untying your shoes when you finally get back to the hotel room!! and he's watching you put on moisturiser before bed and he always likes when you spread the excess onto his skin 😭😭 he's such a little obsessed lover boy I adore him!!

[cheriecoke]

˚₊‧꒰ა WAKE UP CALL ! — bucky barnes

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. following a spontaneous lead from valentina's assisstant, bucky calls you to let you know he’s driven halfway across the country and picked up a few strays.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. written as f!reader in mind but can be gn!, phone call, thunderbolts era, established relationship, takes place right before the scene in the gas station, pet names, veryyy light angst, steve mentioned — 1.4k words

𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒. this is just a little practice fic i wrote post-thunderbolts! it's based loosely on my oc, who was in the og avengers, so there are references to that and her fighting/having powers. but feel free to imagine it however you want <3 can be read in the same timeline as this fic, but it's not necessary to read.

The phone rings once, twice, then a third time, before Bucky’s apologetic, softened voice runs down the line.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he starts off gentle, before his words are coming out in one barely coherent string, like he can’t get them out fast enough. “First of all, I’m sorry. I should’ve — I should’ve told you I was leaving. It wasn’t — Well, I was gonna stay out of it, but the whole thing with Valentina…” Bucky trails off. His voice grows quieter, like there's someone else in the room with him, before he picks back up again.

For a few seconds more, he babbles, almost like he’s afraid to let you speak. He sounds slightly flustered, and more than exhausted — but that’s evident only to you, who has known him so well, for so long. 

Then, he concludes his little speech, less than eloquently. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I should’ve called earlier. I’m sorry.” 

You pause, letting your spoon rest against the side of your coffee mug, trying to make sense of all the words he's just said. The coffee swirls inside the cup, shading a lighter color of brown, before it settles, stilling completely.

Outside, the sun is already beginning to beat hot on the concrete, though it’s not even noon. Which tells you that sometime between the gala last night and the crack of dawn, Bucky had already gotten himself into some sort of trouble. 

“It’s nine, Bucky,” you say, taking a long sip of your coffee. You’d only just brewed it, but you’d used enough creamer to cool it to a drinkable temperature. “I wouldn’t have answered had you called any earlier.” 

He exhales on the end of the line, and says nothing. You can’t tell if he’s relieved or not. 

“When's the last time you slept?” 

“Doesn't matter. I'm fine," Bucky says. You can hear him shifting, his jacket rustling as he brushes up against something. He changes the subject quickly, going back to the matter of calling, which is more than enough to have you worrying. “Listen, I meant to call last night when I got back, but they gave me all these packets to read and—”

“Bucky,” you cut him off, before he can launch into another disgruntled tirade about all the paperwork he hates reading. “What’s going on?” 

This time, the pause on the other line lasts a few moments longer. 

While Bucky never lies to you about anything, he struggles, sometimes, when it comes to communicating. Occasionally, he omits the truth, or says nothing at all, because he wants to keep you safe, and he knows you’ll drag yourself into the danger with him. 

Despite all the years you've been together, Bucky still can't quite fathom that someone would put themselves in the crossfire because of him. He always accused Steve of having something to prove, and he thinks the same of you, when the truth is, you both just love—loved—him enough to put your lives on the line. 

Bucky hesitates on the other end before answering, his voice hushed, growing quieter again. “I don’t know everything, yet.”

You close your eyes, lean your head against the wall. For all the shit he gave Steve for jumping head-first into things, Bucky’s never been much better, in your opinion. “Bucky—”

He doesn’t let you interject, insistent on regurgitating all his words before you can chew him out. “Remember Valentina’s assistant I was telling you about?”

You wrinkle your eyebrows together. “Yeah. Did she actually give you something?”

Bucky exhales as you take a seat on the couch, curling your legs up into your chest. It’s been over a week since he’s been back home, and you miss him already, even if you’re used to being apart. 

He explains, briefly, about the people involved in Valentina’s dirty work, ones he can use in the trial against her. You’ve heard of them all, infamous in your line of work, including John Walker, who you’ve had the displeasure of meeting before. 

Bucky’s story is finished up quickly, a messy wrapping, tied up in nothing more than a knot. You can’t tell if he’s leaving out details, or if he really just doesn’t know them all. 

You purse your lips, pulling at a loose thread in your sweater. “You should’ve taken me with you,” you say, before falling back into the couch, your eyes glued to a spot on the ceiling, where the paint looks off. The longer you gaze at it, the more it starts to look like a discoloration, one you’re not certain is real. Maybe your imagination is just desperate for something to fixate on. “I could’ve helped.” 

Bucky’s smooth, silky tone soothes the aches in your heart and mind. “It was nothing.” He sounds louder, then, as if his mouth is leaning closer to the microphone. “Besides, you told me you wanted to stay out of all this.”

A frown takes over your features. You had said that; it was the entire reason you hadn’t moved to D.C. along with him, and sometimes, you wonder if he thinks you hate him for working in Congress. “It’s still your career. I don’t want to be completely uninvolved.”

“I know."

You’re grateful for the sincerity in his voice. You’re not a fan of most politicians, but you hope he knows that you'll support him, love him, no matter what.

“If I really needed your help, I would’ve called.” He laughs, then, a small sound. “I just didn’t. This time.”

You can picture his small smile on the other end, can envision the lines forming tighter around his eyes. In the near decade since he’s regained his memories, he’s only aged a couple years. Oftentimes, you wonder if you’ll ever catch up to him, if one day, you’ll look older than the man who has lived through more than a century. 

It’s a strange thing to think about. 

“Will you be home soon?” you ask, softly, surprised by how vulnerable your voice sounds. 

The house feels colder without him there, empty. It had been your choice to stay in New York, but sometimes, you wish you would’ve just moved with him.

There is evidence of your life all around — books you love, pictures of friends you still have, and those that are gone. Your favorite restaurants are still just a walk away, memories of your existence on every avenue. 

It’s home — it just feels less like one without Bucky Barnes in it. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe sooner than expected. I don’t think they’ll want to keep me in Congress for much longer, now.” Bucky goes for humor, but you don’t laugh, and neither does he. “Are you okay?”

Things haven’t been bad, lately, but you’re tired. It’s been one thing after another after another, after another, for years. 

The world just won’t let either of you rest.

“I just miss you.” Too much emotion seeps into your voice, and there’s a cloud settling over your heart that makes you want to cry into the phone.

You don’t, though. It would just make him feel bad, and make you feel worse, and you’re more than old enough to handle being alone for another week, even if you don’t want to.  

Still, he sounds even more apologetic on the other end. “I miss you too. So much.” There’s a sound behind him — it’s faint, but it sounds like a groan. One of the hostages is waking up, it seems. “I have to go, sweetheart — I’m sorry.” 

He’ll never stop apologizing, even if these things are out of his control. Sometimes, you feel selfish for wanting so much of his time when he has the heart and the strength to save the world. 

“It’s okay,” you say, even if the words sound a little dull to your ears. “Promise me you’ll call when you get the chance?” 

“I promise. I love you.” 

The words make you smile. It is, perhaps, the first genuine one you’ve had since he answered the phone. You lean your head back in the cushion, settling into it, before repeating the words back to him. 

The line goes dead. 

thank you so much for reading! please consider leaving a or reblog if you enjoyed ❤︎ black divider by k1ssyoursister

[c-is-for-circinate]

Man I think there are two Great Tragedies of Tim Drake, and the second is how hard fandom refuses to engage with the first in favor of their own made-up fanon version of angst. There's plenty of angst in the actual text!

Like the thing about Tim -- actual, pre-Robin, training-to-be-Robin, start-of-his-Robin-run Tim -- is that he sets out on his vigilante journey with two things literally no other batfam member has had before. Tim is normal, and he is happy.

Early Tim, you'll hear a lot in some circles, is meant to be a bland self-insert: look at this kid, he's a Batman fan, just like you! Only he's got more money AND more freedom than you, which means that he gets to have the coolest hobby ever, and when Batman gets in trouble this kid can actually help him out. So cool!

Dick, Jason, Cass, Damian -- they all come to vigilantehood after backgrounds that're various levels of implausible, tragic, and traumatizing. Batman, and their ability to don a cape beside him, rescues them. Their lives get better when they put the uniform on.

Tim's doesn't. Through coincidence or fate or force of plot, Tim agrees to be Robin and his life immediately gets worse. Tim's mom (who canonically loves him and he loves dearly, who's gone more than maybe she should be but a good mom when she's there) dies. Tim's dad's in a coma. Tim's life is upended.

Tim gets strangled by Azbats. Tim almost dies of the Clench. Tim gets all the typical vigilante/sidekick suffering stuff. Tim gets fucked with and fucked over by an increasingly paranoid Bruce.

Tim tries to leave to go back to his normal civilian life but he can't any more, because he is the Normal One, he's been the Normal One for so long that he's missed how much he's changed until he has to fit all of himself inside one single box of normalcy. He tries to leave and it follows him. It haunts him. It stalks him. It kills his friend. It kills his girlfriend. It kills his dad.

(That's the Tim that Jason runs into in Titan's Tower, for fucksake. The orphan living alone in Bludhaven, who's been Robin for years, who left it and then came back because nobody else could live up to him, who's been taking care of himself for ages. The one with half his life and identity pinned not on being granted the opportunity to playact as impostor-syndrome Robin -- that's Tim of two or three or four years ago, just starting out, before he started accumulating loss -- but on being Robin, and being damn fucking good at it. Jason thinks Tim stole his job. Tim thinks he's been doing this goddamn job for four years and if one more person tells him that it's not his, he's going to show them why he doesn't need to turn into Gun Batman to be scary.)

His best friend dies. His other best friend dies. 16- to 17-year-old Tim McFucking Loses It, even before Bruce also dies and pushes him right over the edge, but the tragedy of the Red Robin run isn't just Tim's general sense of self-worth and belief in his ability to be loved. It's stepping back, looking at it in context, and realizing that this was all preventable.

Dick Grayson was never going to be normal, before or after his parents died. Jason was never going to be fine. Cass was doomed long before Bruce ever got to her. But Tim chose this shit. Twelve years old, looking at Batman, too smart for his own damn good but in a way that never once stopped him from making friends and fitting in just fine before -- Tim chose. And he kept choosing, until long after it stopped actually being a choice, until it became all he had, all he had left. Tim made himself into the sort of creature of power and grief that most of his teammates and family had no choice but to be.

What a cool story. (What a very Barbara Gordon story, but that's a conversation for another day.) What a goddamn shame fandom would rather give him the UwU Tragic Backstory and comically terrible parents than tell it.

[literallypyro]

I FINALLY FOUND A TF2 BLOG IM SO HAPPYYY 😭🙏💞💞💞

Can you do headcanons for the mercs, with a reader who's a good cook, basically welcomes them with their favorite foods and drinks when they came back from a battle because she loves all of them very much🍔😚.

(hope this isn't much)

Because of the way this is worded, I'm assuming it's not all separate like I usually do them. So I'll just be writing down random headcanons as they come to me in no specific order

To make this easier on myself, I made this in the context of you used to fight on the team, but after it being deemed unfair for one team to have more people, you took up a job as being a housekeeper of sorts. Like a house spouse but without being married to any of them. You do regular household chores all day and make meals for the mercs, but you only got that job because you asked. How could you possibly leave this darling little band of misfits?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

It's a piece of cake

-Even though you were literally getting paid for what you do, they still wanted to show their gratitude. You didn't have to take up that job, after all

-It made them happy to have someone there who would do the chores they just didn't want to. However, they never treated you like a servant

-I mean, obviously, right? They still treated you as a part of the team

-Especially on the nights when you'd make their favorite meals. They can't even begin to imagine how much effort it takes to cook nine different meals just the way they like it

-Sometimes the mercs will collaborate, but they usually have their own way of saying thanks

-Scout would wake up earlier than you to make you a nice breakfast before you have to start your day

-Soldier would most likely make you one of his morbid as hell gifts

-Pyro would probably draw you something for you, but they might bake something for you depending on their energy level

-Demo would get you something he saw you eyeing in one of the shops in town

-I feel like Heavy would tell you not to make dinner for yourself and just relax at the end of the day and make your favorite dinner in return

-Engineer, ever practical, would build you something that makes your job easier. There's a small chance he would just make something nice like a little music box or something

-Medic is a bit strange with his gratitude. He would offer to find ways to enhance your skills to make your job quicker and easier, and implement them if you accept. Yes, he obviously has a random person biologically similar to you to experiment on first to make sure he has it right before trying any surgeries on you

-Sniper would give you small handmade gifts, like a wooden charm of your favorite animal. After a while, if there's an animal you like that basically takes care of itself, he'd get you one

-Spy would find out your favorite scent and get you the best body spray of it he can find. Classy brand, but still exactly the way you like it

-Even when they don't have the means of time to do these things, they are so grateful you stuck around. They care about you a lot, and they truly cannot express just how much they appreciate you

-Aside from all that, they are impressed at how skilled you are at cooking. Not only do you whip up dishes from different countries and cultures, but you put the time and effort into learning how to do it perfectly

-They are absolutely floored the first time you present them with their favorite meals all in the same night, each one cooked to fit the respective mercs taste. To make the meals the way they're supposed to be is one thing, but to make them with every change they would personally make is a whole other level

[subpar-celestial]

It could've changed since I'm not exactly entrenched in Hatchetfield/Starkid discourse, however, I remember when "Nerdy Prudes Must Die" first came out the general consensus was that the ending wasn't as tragic as the precedent that had been set by the others. But I was thinking about it just today, and I don't think that's true.

Obviously we have full on zombie apocalypse in Tgwdlm, and then nuclear annihilation in Black Friday. So I can understand how in comparison a religiously repressed girl with a shifted moral compass possessing a demonic book seems to pale in comparison. But I think it's the implications we need to focus on. You HAVE to think about the implications.

Because I think it's implied that the same level of devastation will take place, just a lot slower. Because like I said Grace's morals are screwed. They're off center, and they will only continue to shift further and further from that center til no one's safe. It's like with Max -who if you remember she was directly paralleled with a la nerdy Prudes Must die turned to dirty dudes must die- we actively see his definition of nerdy prude shift in order to justify killing the mayor. I think we're even told that his definition will keep changing, the goal post constantly shifting, until he's reason to kill everyone. I think the same can be said for Grace. We already seen her definition of a "dirty dude" is pretty loose. A light peck on the first date is already immoral to her. It's not hard to see how she can manipulate her world view again and again until there's nothing left. No one of true virtue.

Not to make this real but we see that sort of thing in real life. People of higher power going after the little guy, constantly editing what the little guy is, and what the little guy can do. And after all the minorities are taken care of who do you think they'll go after next? Because they're not done, no, they're never done. No one is safe it's just a matter of when.

Everyone still dies at the end of Npmd, we just don't see it. And maybe she gets stopped, maybe she's caught before she can get that far. She is after all just one teenager with what amounts to a spell book. But I dunno the same could be said for the other endings. A zombie apocalypse doesn't spell out the end, there's enough shows about 'em to attest to that, same with nuclear warfare. We could have a Fallout situation you don't know. Obviously those are worse than if Grace just kills a bunch of people then gets jailed for it. But we don't know if any of that would happen. All we have is what they leave us with, and the implied devastation.

My point is I don't think the Npmd ending is so bad, or anticlimactic, or any less tragic than the others. It's just a less obvios in it's tragedy. In a way it's almost worse. All the characters none the wiser as they party without a care. No clue what is to come, and how badly this spells for them. Because we know Grace doesn't align with Peter or Steph. We know they'll be on her list eventually.

And maybe everyone already knows all this, and maybe I just like yapping :)

[alicenchanted]

I love your Taryn series so much. I have a request you're free to reject. Would you do Nyx being outright rejected by his mate, completely refusing to give him a chance (Elucien style but unlike Elain, no trauma reasoning is involved) and the IC discussing it? He could potentially go insane over this so I am really curious about whether they would meddle. You could make her anyone at all, just not directly approachable so some High Lord's daughter, maybe Eris?

Lords of Choice, Part 1

Eris Vanserra’s Daughter X Nyx Archeron

Summary: Eris Vanserra's daughter Enid attends the Winter Solstice revel in the Hewn City to show respect to the Night Court. After finding out her mate is Nyx Archeron, she finds her respect slowly running dry. Her attempts to reject the bond spark concerns amongst the Courts, and their leaders most of all.

Pairings: Broken Mating Bond!! Nyx x Vanserra!OC, Feyre x Rhysand, Nesta x Cassian, Elain x Azriel

Word Count: 5,652

Warnings: mentions of groping, but nothing really terrible

Author's Note: Hello guys! This was my very first request so I hope I did it justice!! I absolutely loved taking this prompt, thank you so much lovely anon. I wanted to post the first bit so you don’t think I forgot about you bc this is lowkey getting long. Enid Vanserra is an original character. She and Nyx are both adults in this fic, which probably means second century of life? Idk Fae math. Also, I typically favor Elucien, but Elriel just worked too well for this fic... but no spoilers for part two. This is a little indulgent and slice of life-y but i couldn't help myself oops

Read on Ao3

“Agh, not so tight, Dad-” 

Eris clicked his tongue at the grumble. “Hush now, it's almost perfect. And remember, you call me ‘father’ once we’re in the Court of Nightmares. ” He teased the strands of deep red hair atop Enid’s head into an elegant knot. She would need it out of the way at a revel, not swishing down past her waist with every twirl. Her hair gleamed, coated in some kind of pomade that smelled like nutmeg and horribly burnt herbs. “There… beautiful.”

“Thank you, father.”

“Better.” He smiled, his expression fond for only a moment, before dropping into a cool indifference. Enid wouldn’t- couldn’t- blame him for the distance her father had to keep from her. The Night Court could see her as his weakness. 

Snow billowed outside the window of the Autumn Court’s manor as Enid made the necessary last minute fixes. Her dress, a satin burnt umber, made her look pale. That was the beauty standard in the Hewn City, where Night fae hated the complexions of those allowed outside the cavernous mountain. Her hair was perfect, pinned with brass leaves and chips of ruby. It was the Winter Solstice, but she felt proud to be a child of Autumn. Eris had an eye for this sort of thing. Elsewhere, it was a mother’s job to prepare a daughter for a gala. Enid did not know her mother, and did not need to. 

Her father was very honest with her about her birth. Her mother was a high fae from the Autumn Court. Enid’s grandfather, the late Beron Vanserra, had coerced her into carrying Eris’s heir. Eris had many brothers, her Uncle Lucien was her favorite, but many of them were forced into the position of soldiers as soon as Eris’s strength gestured to his eventual lordship. A few of his brothers had died on the front lines in the war against Koschei almost a century ago, and the need for Eris to have an heir became urgent.

Not having a mother around didn’t really make a difference in her life, Enid felt. Whatever protective instinct that existed innately for a mother, Eris had ten fold. He was as doting as a hen… aside from the Court revels. 

“Don’t wear those shoes,” Eris scolded, passing into Enid’s bedroom to chide her. “You’ll look like a fool. Wear these.” He held out a pair of slippers. “They’re enchanted,” he said proudly, a smug grin on his face that told her he knew exactly how perfect they were.

As she slid them on, she watched the color change, slowly darkening from a simple brown into the exact same shade of cinnamon as her dress. Enid’s eyes lit up at the sight, and she hugged her father tightly. Eris only indulged her embrace for a minute, but it was enough for her. She cleared her throat and stood up straight. “Thank you, father.”

He smiled, “You’re most welcome, Lady Vanserra.”

She did not bristle at the title, though it felt strange. Would it be High Lady, one day? The idea of leadership plagued her mind as Eris held her arm, winnowing them both to one of the entrances to the Hewn City. 

They stepped through that invisible path through space, entering a snowy grove. Enid watched the white, grassy path in front of them fade into dull rock as they began the descent into the ground. Flickering sconces of cold, bright faelight flickered to life, guiding them into the mountain’s heart. She looked up at her dad- father, but he stared ahead, his eyes trained on the ballroom ahead of them. Eris was a picture of unyielding strength, everything she herself wanted to be when- if- she were one day High Lady. 

As of right now, there was only one High Lady in the seven courts of Prythian. Enid made eye contact with her as they entered the ballroom. Feyre Archeron. She sat atop a throne of onyx, equally as impressive as the High Lord of Night’s throne. The High Lady held Enid’s gaze for a few moments, and she smiled just a little when Enid didn’t back down. And then the Lady’s gaze was elsewhere, searching through the crowd for someone else to torment with her stare. 

Enid felt her father stiffen. It would be imperceptible to the crowd, but not to her. They walked carefully, neatly up a velvet carpet. She had practiced this moment. Eris halted at the end, standing before the Lord and Lady’s thrones. He dipped his chin, a show of respect to his equals, but only Lord Rhysand returned the gesture.  Enid followed suit, curtseying as low as she could without faltering, a gesture proper for her own station. Everything about these ‘revels’ was rigorous social play. Calling it a party, or a festival, was so generous it became a lie. 

Enid watched the entourage of fae behind Rhysand, the Inner Circle. According to her lessons, they would also be required to bow. Eris’s position trumped their own, even if the festival was hosted by their court. Only one did, though. A female that looked similar to Feyre, though much duller in Night Court black. Enid recognized her as her Uncle Lucien’s mate. They had never sealed the bond, though she wasn’t privy to the reason. The Morrigan did not look at Eris, nor did she look at Enid, and she felt her fire rise up in anger. 

But she had practiced this, too. She took a breath as her father pivoted, leading her to the edges of the ballroom, and she let the fire inside her bank into smoke as she exhaled. 

“Make sure you say hello to Lord Keir. I must keep up the pretense of alliship with him, he’s an important asset to Autumn.”

Enid tilted her head in a subtle nod. It was impolite to whisper, but more importantly, Eris didn’t want anyone thinking that their whispers were important. The man to Rhysand’s left… his shadows were spies. They coiled around his broad, scarred wings, searching without eyes. They frightened her. Eris followed her line of sight. He had put distance between them, playing the part of a bored, heartless father who was cursed to have a little brat instead of a son. Despite the distance, he still whispered, “Fire is the greatest fear of those who dwell in darkness, daughter.”

It was the reassurance she needed. She brightened, her spine straightening with pride. They would not dare touch her here. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･

There was something wrong inside the ballroom. Magic. The sharp tang of it filled Nyx Archeron’s nose, and he ducked behind the face of an elegant column. He had a gift for that sort of thing. Wrongness. He was a product of it, after all. Were it not for the Cauldron, he and his mother, his father too, they would have died. Nyx was the product of a bargain, and that made the circumstances of his life wrong. 

He felt a sharp tapping against the bone white shields of his mind. He hated when Feyre used her magic on him. Pulling magical rank on family should have been outlawed centuries ago. 

Nyx reinforced his shields, keeping her out. A few moments later, a dark, shadowy presence tried again. His father, too? How was he supposed to do anything with them breathing down his mind? 

Something was wrong. He felt it pulling in his gut. Tugging at him. He tilted his head around the column, glancing at his parents. They were still atop the dais, but the rest of their Circle had moved into the crowd. They must not have felt it.

It moved. Rather, someone moved. The source of the tugging was across the ballroom, flitting back and forth, weaving through the crowd. It felt dangerous, it felt… hot. Burning. But it wasn’t the kind of burning that ate and ate until everything was gone. It was low and slow, something that would survive on scraps of whatever it could find. Somehow, he felt that kind of fire was more dangerous. 

He joined the revelry, taking the hand of some nameless high fae. Nyx felt the presence of his parents fade from his mind, a great sigh of power. He must be in the sights of Feyre, or one of his aunts, and thus safe. 

The female in front of him smiled, as flirtatious a look as she could give to someone like him. Nyx smiled back, the dimple in his cheek flashing as he pulled her in by the waist. Whatever it was, the wrongness, someone was carrying it with them on the floor. Nyx slid his hands along the fae’s back, down to her full hips. No secret trove, no deadly artifact or enchanted vials beneath the tulle. He spun her into the arms of another before moving on. 

A lesser fae now. Gauzy wings draped down her back like sparkling cobwebs. She wore a dress that was certainly too scandalous for the Winter Solstice, but it worked in his favor this time. Nyx grazed her small thigh, his hand slipping under the skirt of her slip briefly. She cawed in delight as his fingers met her bare skin. No deadly ash weapons.  She attempted to run her nails across the sensitive membrane of his wings before he shoved her off, moving to the next. The nerve.

He turned about the room with fae after fae, carefully groping for whatever it was that felt so strange. Nothing.

This wasn’t working. It was time to do what he should have done in the first place, let the High Lord and Lady deal with it.  Nyx was weaving through the throng of fae, crawling back to his parents like a fool, when he bumped straight into Eris. The tugging feeling in his gut grew unbearably hot, and then it simmered out. Wait- that wasn’t Eris, it was a girl. Sometimes Eris looked like a girl from the back, but that was definitely not him. She was too young, too short.

Nyx pushed aside the people around him, keeping his eyes set on her as she moved. He was grateful that the crowd parted for him like water. He didn’t want to use his skills as a daemati right now. It would draw too much attention.

He found the Autumn fae, snatching her wrist up with a firm grip. “Where is it?” 

She looked up at him with momentary shock before her face turned to steel. It reminded him of his Aunt Nesta. The look was cool. She was calculating him. 

“Where is what?” She looked at him as if his title was the only reason she bothered answering. Prince of Night. It had its perks. 

He grabbed her by the waist, skimming his fingers along her ribs. Daggers could be hidden in the boning of a corset. It was a trick the females of his court often employed. He felt proud to know such a secret.

The Autumn fae grabbed his hand, yanking it away from her body. He felt a searing pain bubble beneath his skin. Dim red flame skittered across his wrist, grazing the edge of his sleeve in warning. He snatched his hand back, biting his tongue to keep from bringing attention to it. 

“Give it to me, and I won’t have you executed for treason.”

“Treason? I would have to be a member of your court for that to be my crime.” Whatever- it didn’t even matter what the technical term for it was. He’d have her head on a spike if anyone saw her embarrass him. It was a very beautiful head, though. Stunning, really. He liked her long red hair, the elegant curve of her face. Her eyes…

 He watched those beady black eyes narrow. They were as sharp as coals, but not as sharp as her tone. “I have nothing to give you, run along.”

Who did she think she was? She was younger than him by at least half a century.

“You do realize I’m Crown Prince, right?”

“Do you take me for a fool, Nyx?” The posh apathy in her voice slipped. Fiery. He liked that.

“You’re a fool to lie to me,” he said, dropping his voice the same way his father did when he was threatening someone.

“You’re right about that. And I am not a fool.”

He took a breath, focusing on that feeling deep in his gut. It felt like a natal cord, like something forged along his soul. He gripped it with a shadowy hand. He pulled. The girl flinched and squeezed her eyes shut.

“You do have it!” A few eyes turned his way, and he lowered his voice. He shouldn’t be excited about an assassination attempt on his parents, but maybe they would finally trust him enough to send him out on real work.

He watched the girl clench her fists, grunting in anger at being caught. “I have nothing. What am I supposed to have?”

Nyx clicked his tongue. Each lie would only dig her into a deeper hole, but she didn’t seem to understand that. “If you keep denying it I’ll just have to find out for myself.”

Her brows crinkled in disgust. “Are you going to search me?”

“What? No.” He looked disgusted for a moment. “I would never do that.” He wouldn’t tell her about how he had been doing exactly that only a few moments ago. “I wouldn’t. Not when I can do this…” Nyx brushed against her mind, scaly darkness overtaking it. 

The girl had shields. Thick ones, actually. Surprising. He pushed against them harder, slithered between the thick, ashen brambles until he felt her go still. He must have been improving with his daemati skills. A sudden wave of fear hit her. It was so strong that he somehow felt it, too. Deep in his gut. 

I won’t hurt you, just confess.

A flickering ember billowed into shape, looking more and more like a figure, the girl, with each crackle of light. Nyx watched her soul take shape. This had never really happened before. Not when he practiced on Uncle Cassian, or Morrigan. He was definitely improving, then.

He could see only the vague details of her body, but he did not miss her glaring black eyes. She was remarkably stupid not to be afraid of him. That bothered him for some reason. 

What’s your name?

That’s what you’re going to ask? She looked at him as if he were the stupid one, and he bristled. His shape here was strange. Some kind of beast, black and shiny, scaly but winged. He stretched his wings. They felt far bigger than usual. If you’re going to admire yourself, can you do that outside of my mind?

He rolled his eyes. The spectral ones. He wasn’t even sure what was happening to the real ones right now. 

He turned away from her brightness, looking for her thoughts. Somehow, he couldn’t find the access point. That library full of memories was not reachable from where he was. It was a different space entirely. He could only talk.

He tried to play it cool. She didn’t need to know how royally he was fucking this up. You won’t even tell me your name? That sounds suspicious. I should just hand you over to the High Lord.

Do it.  

Dammit. She wasn’t supposed to call his bluff. Why won’t you just cooperate…

Enid He blinked. The Autumn Court specialized in strange names, then. Something in his core sparked, turning warm again. She shivered a bit, cupping her abdomen. My name is Enid Vanserra. Now will you stop doing that? It’s making me sick. 

Nyx left her mind, drawing back through flame and ember until he was looking at Enid. They were close, nearly shoved together by the press of bodies around them. The music had grown louder, the revel in full swing. Nyx grabbed her by the hips before she could get any ideas about slipping away. “Vanserra?”

“Don’t you know your noble families?”

“Of course I do,” he said flatly. “It’s not my fault you breed like rabbits. There are a million of you. Which Vanserra sired you?”

“Eris,” she said, almost smugly. She was the High Lord’s little brat then. Everyone knew how much Eris hated her. Nyx almost couldn’t blame him. She certainly enjoyed making things difficult. Now nothing made sense, though. Eris was an ally to the Night Court. Even the Court of Nightmares. She would never get away with disturbing the delicate balance of alliship. 

Nyx reached deep inside himself again. That wrongness, it was a cord of pure light. It was easy to find, still remarkably present. He pulled on it again.

Enid gasped, made a small sound that had a blush rising beneath his tanned skin.“Is this some sort of strange trick to make me talk?” she grumbled. 

“You feel that?” He pulled again and she leaned into him, bracing her hands on his shoulders in a mockery of a waltz.

“Yes.” She sent another glowering look his way. “If it’s supposed to hurt, you’re not doing it right.”

Nyx’s eyes narrowed. “I’m taking you to see my pa- The High Lord and Lady.” He wound his fingers around Enid’s wrist, dragging her through the crowd and toward the dais. She didn’t fight him, and he became less and less confident in the idea that she was up to something.

As they approached, he felt her straighten, almost instantly forging herself into fae nobility. Nyx followed a moment later, lifting his wings tight and straight. 

His mother looked at him with a tinge of worry, though only amusement glimmered in his father’s eyes. “Nyx,” Rhysand said. “Lady Vanserra, to what do we owe the pleasure.”

Nyx spoke before she had the chance to, brushing back his dark hair until it was neat. “She has given me reason to be suspicious.”

Enid looked bored. Her gaze was trained on Mor, almost as if playing a game of chicken. Enid was winning. 

“Suspicious?” Feyre said warily. 

Nyx nodded. Now wasn’t the time to be uncertain. “Yes. I can feel the mark of the Cauldron on her. She has something dangerous, maybe something Made.” It sounded better than ‘I don't know exactly but there’s something wrong with her.’ It was a good guess. ‘Wrongness’ was usually the Cauldron’s doing.

Feyre looked to Aunt Nesta, who nodded. Nesta approached Enid carefully, her eyes flickering with liquid silver. Nyx felt a phantom flame breathe in his soul, an echo of the instinctual fire that rose to life in Enid. It was a strange feeling. Wrong. Rhysand watched carefully.

Nesta shook her head a moment later. “I sense nothing Made.” His mother nodded, pleased, but the look on Rhysand’s face was… delighted. Shocked, but delighted. Nyx could almost see the gears winding up in his father’s mind. 

“Mates,” Rhysand breathed.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆

“What?” The High Lady of the Night Court sat up in her seat. Enid watched her nostrils flare, scenting the air. She swore, biting at a perfectly manicured nail.

Anxiety rose in her stomach, but she wasn’t sure now if it was her own, or if it belonged to the prince beside her. Nyx Archeron was her mate.

Enid felt the booming footsteps of her father echoing behind her. Eris marched his way up the dais, coming to a halt a few feet behind Enid, though he did not look at her. “Is something wrong, High Lord? Lady?”

“High Lady,” Rhysand corrected. His voice was tight, but she could see the glitter of stars in his eyes. His face smoothed into an almost cocky grin. “Welcome to the family, Eris.” 

Prick… but Enid stayed quiet. She watched her father’s already rigid frame go still, like a petrified tree in an ancient forest. “What do you mean?” Eris said. He sounded calm, but Enid knew he was anything but. 

“Your precious, darling girl is my son’s mate.” Rhysand crooned. “Will we be expecting you at family dinners from now on?” He was deliberately taunting her father, she knew. It was a cover for whatever plans had set themselves into motion behind his eyes.

“No,” the words left Enid’s mouth before she could stop them. It was impolite, but she found herself unable to care. Her father finally looked at her, one eyebrow lifting at the interruption.

She turned back to the High Lord and Lady. Feyre was smiling at her, looking at Enid like she was a little girl that had gotten lost in the woods.“Our families are allies, Enid, and we would be happy to see our courts united,” Feyre said softly, politely.

“No,” Enid repeated. The thought of being anywhere near them… she did not like it. She did not like that they played games with their allies, forcing Eris to stick his neck out at the risk of her Grandfather’s wrath many years ago. She did not like that their women were either caged or turned into weapons. She did not like that their kindness was just as lethal as their rage.

Nyx’s wings flared, the look on his face petulantly irritated. It seemed as though he wanted to speak, but wouldn’t dare interrupt the back and forth taking place in the minds of his parents. 

After a few full seconds of silence, Rhysand propped his arm against the throne, resuming his apathetic surveillance of the crowd. “Enjoy the revel, we’ll be in touch.”

Enid looked at her father. The muscles of his jaw were clenched, though he said nothing. He put a hand on Enid’s shoulder, guiding her off of the dais with a light pressure, but a tight grip.

From behind her, she heard the High Lady mutter, “Stay.” The hesitant rustle of wings told Enid that Nyx had listened. 

Eris led her straight out of the mountain. She felt herself finally able to breathe as they veered onto the rocky path. She wasn’t sure if the pause in her breath was because of her nervousness, or simply the dense air that swelled in the cavernous ballroom. Her father gripped her arm, winnowing them back to the Autumn Court as soon as they were past the mountain’s wards.

“Explain,” was all he said as they tunneled into the den. Fires crackled to life in the hearths of the Vanserra manor. It kept out the cold, but that was only an indirect effect. The hearths were black with soot and ash from every time Eris had needed an outlet for the magic building inside him.

Enid sat down in one of the plush armchairs, sinking into the archaic upholstery. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know.”

Enid just looked at him. She didn’t really know what to say.  

“I suppose this could work for us…” Eris said as he began to pace. He had trained himself on stillness in front of rivals, but in the safety of their home he couldn’t keep himself from muttering. “Hmm, and then they wouldn’t involve themselves… might need to use my bloodhounds… trust her with information.”

She was only able to catch snippets of his whispers, but she quickly grew queasy with the thought of being sent to the Night Court. “Will I have to live there?”

Her father paused, turning to look at her. “Once you are mated you’ll never want to be apart.” He said it so openly, so matter-of-fact. It was as if the Cauldron had already tipped, its rough waters etching her future into stone. 

“I thought we were already mates.” Maybe they were wrong, then? She wasn't at all looking forward to meeting Nyx again.

“Nyx is your mate, yes, but you still have to accept the mating bond.”

“I have to accept it?”

“You don’t want to accept it?” Her father looked at her curiously. 

In all of Enid’s lessons, she hadn’t really been schooled much on mating bonds. She was taught the basics of court partnerships and romantic etiquette, but Eris had made sure to instill a sense of independence in her. He did not want her to be reliant on a male when so many of them were fools. He knew that from personal experience, of course. 

“I don’t know,” Enid said, her voice coming out as a warbled murmur. She had never given thought to finding her mate. She knew one existed for her, as there was for all fae, but finding one’s mate in the vastness of Prythian- let alone all the other fae realms- seemed impossible. 

Eris continued. “Different courts have different traditions regarding the acceptance of the mating bond. The Autumn Court’s tradition is… very dramatic.” He winced a little at the thought. “It’s called the Burning. The female is tied to an oak of the same age as her. She uses her magic to light the tree on fire, and the male must brave her flames to untie her. True mates cannot hurt each other, so if the male comes out unharmed and with his bride in hand, the bond has been accepted.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Enid asked as neutrally as possible, but she swore amusement flashed in her father’s eyes. 

“If the female freely rejects the bond, the protection from her magic fades, and the male will likely run screaming.” His eyes softened, the corner of his lips quirked in a small smile of understanding. “I suppose it would be unwise to have Nyx attempt the Burning?”

Enid trained her eyes on her shoes. She didn’t want to be the cause of ruined relations between courts. The Night Court was often unpredictable, and her rejection could be seen as an insult. After all, she had allowed Nyx no grace period, nor the benefit of slow courtship. She had simply said no, and left.

Eris sat beside her, the fires in the blackened hearths having cooled. “I would never be upset with you for denying a male. The Night Court is known for treating mating bonds as… Cauldron-given rights,” his lip curled, “not that the Autumn Court was any better under my father. Beron’s roots run deep, and our traditions hold fast.” He turned to face Enid. “You are free to make your own decisions. However, I would ask you to consider. You are your own person, but you are also an extension of my court. Unfortunately, I cannot only back your decisions as your father, I must also support them as High Lord, which is far more difficult.” He stood, bending down to press a kiss to her hair. “Take your time, Enid. And rest. The answer will come to you with some reflection. Do not let the flame of your whims guide you, as the Vanserra’s too often do.” He squeezed her shoulder, then left the den. 

The hearths turned to ash.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆

Please, Enid

No

Can I at least come to visit? You won’t even give me a chance…

Nyx watched her fiery form, the image of her along the bond, flicker and sputter out. A pang echoed across the tether of light, twisting in his gut. Enid would not be talking any more today. 

Cassian snapped his fingers in front of Nyx’s face in annoyance, startling him out of that dream-like state. “It’s your turn. Nesta is creaming us, dude.” 

His aunt smirked as her ball bounced against the long table, arcing gracefully before plinking into the center goblet. Liquor swished as the ball sank. Azriel gave Nesta a fist bump. 

Cassian groaned. “Azriel is helping you cheat! I see his shadows moving.” Azriel’s shadows wriggled, as if insulted. 

“We don’t need to cheat,” Nesta said smugly as Cassian lifted the goblet, drinking down sharp liquid. “You would think the Night Court’s General would have better aim.��

Cassian grimaced at his mate. “I should’ve thought twice before inviting you to play a drinking game.” He turned to look at Nyx. “What’s wrong with you today, usually we’re at least tied by now.”

Nyx looked down at the table. His Aunt Nesta and Uncle Azriel had only two goblets left to win. He and his Uncle Cassian still had five. Nyx tucked in his wings defensively, taking the ball from Cassian’s hand. “My turn.”

Cassian shrugged, stepping back to watch as Nyx carefully threw the ball into the polished surface of dark oak. His angle was off, and it merely skittered and rolled over the edge. Cassian groaned. “What was that?”

It was hard to focus. When Nyx had first met Enid on Winter Solstice, he had found it impossible to ignore that strange magic between them. Now, after almost two weeks of her refusal to talk, the cord that linked them felt… tight. His Aunt Elain had even caught Nyx pacing the halls of the River House, nearly ready to fly out to the Autumn Court.

Nesta and Azriel put Cassian out of his misery, each of their balls plunking into the final two goblets as they ended the game. “Drink up,” Azriel said, his shadows still tucked away, holding a grudge. 

Nyx lifted one of the goblets, taking the shot as Cassian finished his own. It slid down with a burn. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the burn of Enid’s presence. Cauldron boil him, he was a mess. 

“I’m never playing with you again,” Cassian muttered to Nyx, but Nyx supposed the sentiment was also meant for his Aunt Nesta.

A tinkling sound echoed as the High Lady walked into the room, her silver bangles announcing her presence. “I thought I told you to stay out of the business wing with those games. And stop corrupting my son,” she said snappishly to the Illyrians, but mirth swirled in her eyes as she smiled. This had been his mother’s only dream. A family that stuck together, that truly lived. 

“The tables in the personal wing aren’t as big,” Cassian said with a grin. Azriel grabbed one of Feyre’s fancy hand towels from Cesere, wiping down spatters of alcohol from the glossy table. “And Azriel will gladly clean it all up,” Cassian added cheerfully. 

Feyre only rolled her eyes, turning to Nyx. “Any luck?”

A blush crept across Nyx’s cheeks, his tan skin flushed with rose. His mother had a habit of being nosy. “No,” he said sheepishly. “Not yet.”

Her eyes narrowed as she pulled Nyx into a hug, pushing his face into the shoulder of her soft, cable-knit sweater. “I’ll have Rhys visit the Autumn Court.”

“Not yet,” Nyx insisted. He kept himself from tugging on the bond, from calling to her. It was embarrassing.

“Eris needs to keep that girl in line.” Feyre turned to Nesta, “Or you could go, Nesta.” His mother smirked. “Eris tried to make her his bride once, you know. That would’ve worked out poorly for you, Nyx.”

Nyx stepped back from his mother’s hug with a grimace, but he smiled a little when he saw his Aunt bristle. “If you send me,” Nesta said, “the Autumn Court might declare war.”

Yes, Nyx thought, maybe sending a Valkyrie to his mate’s front door was a bad idea.

Nyx watched Azriel straighten as Elain walked through the door, a smile brushing his lips. Elain glided to his side, and he took one of her hands in his own, the scarred flesh of his fingers gently caressing her knuckles. “Dinner is almost ready,” Elain said. She noticed the charged energy of the room, cocking her head to the side. “Is something the matter?”

Feyre pursed her lips. “The Vanserras. Always causing trouble.” 

Elain nodded, but it was a contemplative gesture, not one of agreement. Nyx had met his Aunt Elain’s mate before. Lucien Vanserra was one of the High Lord’s surviving brothers, and he occasionally came to visit Elain and Feyre. Though Elain had never fallen in love with Lucien, they were friendly with each other, and talked often. 

Nyx waited for Aunt Elain to speak, but she didn’t, only adding after a few minutes that they should all reconvene in the kitchen. 

Rhysand was already seated, nodding his thanks to the disappearing wraiths that had helped Elain cook. “I’ll go tonight, Nyx,” his father said by way of greeting. It seemed Feyre had already filled Rhys in, likely through their mating bond.

This time, Nyx did not object. He gripped his own bond, deep inside himself, wanting to see if Enid would answer. One more chance, he thought. Once his father went, hell would likely be raised by the High Lords. The line inside him was cold, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. Maybe it really was time for the court to intervene.

Rhysand’s brows furrowed as he saw pain flicker in Nyx’s blue eyes. They were soft and gentle, exactly like his mother’s.  “I’m sure this is all due to some misunderstanding. Who knows what kind of vitriol Eris has spewed to her.”

Nyx nodded, settling into one of the plush seats at the dining table. He folded his wings around the back, letting the cartilage rest against the carved wood. “Wings up,” his father chided. “It looks lazy.”

Cassian and Azriel snickered. “You sound just like your mom, Rhys,” Cassian said. Nyx watched his father smirk, chewing thoughtfully on the roast duck carefully plated before him. 

“My mother always knew everything,” Rhysand said proudly. Nyx barely listened, staring at his plate, digging the tongs of his fork into duck meat. It was perfectly cooked, well seasoned, but he couldn’t eat it. His stomach turned.

Azriel nodded to Rhys and Feyre, “As mothers always do.” 

Feyre played with her wedding band, smiling quietly to herself.  She seemed determined to keep their little family together. Perhaps a family was all Enid needed. He hoped that was the case.

[beannoss]

SxF read along volume 2! (part 4)

Specifically on the moral and ethical worldbuilding in SxF.

I wanted to bundle these flashbacks of Anya's about Yor's lesson to her with fighting:

Both Yor and Twilight operate knowing the impacts and boundaries of the power they wield, one day I’ll write all my thoughts about this being fundamental to the wholesomeness of SxF, but it’s so nice to see it plainly articulated so early on too

👀👀👀 I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Yor and smiling and wondering how often maybe her smiles aren’t… entirely true… and anyway I’m 👀👀👀

… not me feeling like a dummy for trying to puzzle out Yor’s guiding principles from her actions throughout SxF when she just fuckin’ states them from the beginning 😂🫣

In all seriousness, Yor does practice these throughout as regards her contract killing... Endo does this very carefully threaded weave of SxF's internal ethics, how he keeps Yor and Twilight on the 'good' side of grey, where the lines in the sand are regarding antagonists, villains and cruelty. A fair bit of that threading is done with Yor and Twilight specifically, in how they do the morally dubious (at best) things they both do. It's also a careful balance, philosophically, because the only reason there is any sort of moral argument for Garden and WISE is because Ostania is implicitly facing a moral crisis, which is most especially demonstrated through the SSS...:

(I should have highlighted 'surveilling the public' above too; oversight!) This is also such a chilling panel:

Back more directly to the topic at hand, there is a marked difference between the work Yor and Twilight are shown doing, and this introduction of Yuri:

I think potentially one of the trickiest things with navigating SxF is that the internal ethics need be judged by the internal matrices we're shown. Twilight isn't really akin to a real world spy: he can change his face, body shape and voice within seconds, and it's clear that he and WISE are invested in some level of protection of innocent people who get caught up in their missions (or at least mitigation of harms, if Twilight's comment that WISE would look after Yor and Anya post-Strix is indicative). Yor isn't really akin to a real world contract killer: never mind running faster than cars, she can just stand in the middle of the road on one leg and kick a car hard enough it veers into a streetlamp, and otherwise her targets, at least, are consistently shown to be individuals or groups that would, by rights, be brought to criminal trial and that they are not indicates a clear failing in Ostania's criminal justice system. Which makes sense, when we see the explanation of the SSS above.

WISE and Garden are only an ethical option when the SSS is the main arbiter of justice: the SSS's fundamental model is flawed, because it is demanding its citizens see one another as inherently suspect, to surveil one another and ultimately to turn on one another. If the metrics for traitor-of-the-state are things like being a single woman and having extramarital affairs, then what makes for the truly traitorous is diluted to such an extent as to essentially be meaningless. The SSS aren't looking to implement justice; their goal is clearly control under the spurious declaration of order. Control and order are not justice; they are reiterations of power and oppression masquerading as justice and safety, leaving instead a void. And into that void of justice and safety step groups like Garden and WISE, and, jumping ahead for a moment, even the way Olka Gretcher's crime family was described demonstrates them stepping in where the government failed (and the Gretcher successor reneging on that role).

I wish I'd snapped some of the statements from/about WISE in the first volume, but I also tend to think SxF's primary exploration of the intersection of morality and justice is going to be in the contrast between the choices made by the Briar siblings and the potential inevitable clash between Garden and the SSS. And the intersection of morality and safety may well play out between Twilight and Donovan Desmond, and the choices they each make. To that, choice overlays everything, and the contrast of the exercise of power.

[deanocasgirlie0511]

Thoughts about what destiel seasons I like more.

I'm on my spn rewatch again *sigh* and I noticed to myself that I like later season destiel way more than early destiel.

S4—7

S4 literally started with intense eye-fuckin.

U can see how fast their relationship to each other changes. From sort of enemies to knowing each other.

Cas started to have feelings and got lobotomized, Dean that didn't believe in angels and didn't pray much, started pray only to Cas. They changed each other's stories here. Not my fav, but definitely good as Base.

S5 I liked a bit more, sexual tension and eye-fucking still here. The relationship changed a bit. From knowing each other they become friends.

Dean started to worry about Cas a little more, and in 5x18, when Cas said that he doesn't have much faith in Dean like Sam does, u can see how these words hurted Dean. Good season, like it.

S6 I like, Destiel becomes more angst. And here from friends/besties they became something more in my opinion.

They started bickering a lot, Dean got mad that Cas is not around. Cas literally cheated on Dean with Crowley, the Betrayal scene (6x20). Should I say more? Definitely like it, love some angst.

S7... can't say that I like it, but don't hate it.

And here, from something more to feel something and even fall in love, especially from Dean' side.

Cas became God, Dean's big mad about it, started drinking a lot, didn't want to do anything, then Cas appears all in blood asking for help, they bring the Leviathans back to purgatory, but Cas "dies".

Dean is still angry, but he is sad that his friend died, when the second death happens.... Dean already looks like a widower here, he takes the coat with him, carries it everywhere, he has nightmares, he just can't forget about what happened, he literally says this when he meets Emmanuel!Cas and Dean's look when he saw Emanuel!Cas....And of course Crazy!Cas/Dean bickering. The "Nobody cares that you broken Cas", and the "I'd rather have you, cursed or not", "I could go with you". So idk, 50/50.

S8—10

S8 is my fucking favorite and most rewatched season. Yeah, there's not much Cas in it. He literally disappears for 7 episodes after episode 10, but god, that makes it even more awesome.

Here Dean's already love Cas.

He ripped apart the whole Purgatory just to find The Angel. First hug and "Cas, buddy, I need you. I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?". The fucking cript and "Cas, Cas...we need you... I need you" .THE CAS' HEALING DEAN BY TOUCHING HIS CHEEK AND DEAN'S HAND CLENCHING ON CAS' COAT. Then Dean got big mad on him about Naomi stuff. "You didn't trust me..Me?". The bar scene and "ET goes home, huh?". So, definitely my fav season, always start my rewatch from it.

S9...well, not my fave, but it had some good destiel. Still lovers.

The MOC separated them. U can see that Dean care about Cas way more. When he kicked him out of the bunker i was really mad at him. But throughout the episodes I saw how Dean apologizes a lot for it, i can tell he regrets it. Plus Cain/Collet—Dean/Cas thing. And that's all I guess...? Also 50/50.

S10 is the same as s9. Not that much destiel.

Here they're already a married couple with a kid (Claire).

Also their relationship is growing. Dean opens up to Cas about the mark on the date (10x09), taking care of Claire(10x20), gives the first blade to Cas, not Crowley. Plus Cain's line "And then you'd kill the Angel, Castiel. Now, that one...that, I suspect would hurt something awful."(10x14). And of course The Prisoner's Cain/Collette—Dean/Cas reference, how Collette stoped Cain, and Cas did the same (10x22). Kinda love it.

S11—15

S11, Ooof, my second favorite rewatchable season. Still married.

In (11x01) he literally wanted to leave the police girl with the kid (Amara) just to go and find Cas, when he saw what happened to Cas, he took the opportunity of caring for him freaking hard (11x03). The whole ep, he just couldn't stop touching him. And wrapped him in blankie. Didn't want Cas to heal him cause of what he did in 10x22.

Then when he acknowledged that Cas is Lucifer (11x14) he just couldn't stop thinking about how to save him. No jokes, from 11x14 to 11x23 he can't stop talking about how to save Cas. Even Amara felt it through Cas' heart in 11x21...The whole 11x18, where Lucifer mocked Dean, and he looked offended.... Where Amara was around, but the only thing Dean thinking about is Cas. Lucifer and Amara are both confused by it. Delicious.

S12—15

S12 and 13 faves, mostly s12

Married, got a second kid.

I don't think I need to say anything here.

Acting like an old married couple + they are each other's weakness (12x10)

Cas confesses his love to Winchesters Winchester (12x12)

The fucking Led-Zeppelin mixtape (12x19)

Cas' death and how Dean grieved him. Drinked a lot, was depressed, lost his faith, wanted to die...(12x23—13x05)

Brokebacknatural (13x06)

Cas' grief cause of Dean's yes to Michael (13x23). Good seasons.

S14 is just pure depression, mostly Dean's.

Human hubby is depressed.

Dean is back. Yippie. (14x03)

Kid died, depression. Oh wait, he's alive, no depression.(14x08)

Nihilism (14x10)

Doctor kink, don't want to be buried in MB, have faith (14x12)

Angel hubby doesn't recognize his human hubby (14x13)

Depressed couple on date, Dean openly talks about Michael with Cas (14x14)

Started signing the divorce agreement (14x18—15x02). Love it, depression is tasty.

S15... Favorite, Love it and hate it.

Married, but then became a widower.

Signed the divorce agreement, but human hubby still cares. Angel hubby doesn't want to talk (15x03—15x08)

The Trap, no need to explain (15x09)

Decided to cancel the divorce agreement, husbands again, son returned, everything is fine, but going to the end (15x10—15x17)

Beautiful declaration of love, Death and widower...(15x18—15x19). Just pain...

In conclusion, my favorite seasons are: 5, 6, 8, 10 (only 10x09, 10x20 and 10x22), 11 and 12—15

[great-brilliant-radiance-au]

GREAT BRILLIANT RADIANCE

Ref No. 1 sheets for Frisk , Kris , and Chara ! specifically for sky and translucent color segment

[ Thought and design process in the undercut , very long ramble ]

---

[ 2020 on left - 2025 current on right ]

originally they were all fully made of buttercup flowers , however we updated them to instead be the leaves

it so that it more so feels like Resembles or Happen to look like a demon and angel instead of Literally looking like one by unnaturally manifesting flowers into the shape , here its just leaves .

(another issue we had was old frisk's wings looking like actual wings n not conveying theyre flowers well enough)

We also did change Frisk's accessory to be same as Chara's bandana scarf so feel more like they come as a pair .

--

we did much less exaggeration in favor for more "normal" feel , but it feels great that both their silhouettes still read rlly well !

went for more "simple shape" idea to give more of a UTDR feel with how in canon they're such vague shapes but still Clear that can rlly picture them in many ways from the same picture . (it also makes easier draw)

gives like a RPG design feel 🐕

----

About shape choice , they still roughly kept same idea we had in original , with Chara being sharper but round eyes , and Frisk being round but sharp eyes .

Also , it Would be more canon compliant to instead give Chara more slit eyes that Frisk has here , however we decided to keep way it is as it helps with shape balance , as well as implying different things about personality

in 1st batch , their eyes may match with their shape theme , but it gets lost in it . In 2nd batch , it's much more clear to see the eyes , as well as give harmony to both designs , feeling both characters more belong with each other as has the other's shape in some way , even if minor .

with character design , it good practice to have a specific kind shape in mind , but not make it Only thing or else it may feel Too Much and not harmonize with rest of cast . adding few bits from other characters or different shape can help :]

----

With Kris we did major changes , it also important to note that Kris in Haunted Hearts AU NEVER showed up Once the comic canon 💀

So we took much more creative liberties ! going much more different route than what would think for Kris deltarune

-

1 . This is because this AU takes place before they make contact with the player , as well as focus solely on them and Frisk and Chara , as well as other stuff , it can be seen as "youre actually seeing them and the trio in Their perspective"

And as its Their perspective , they're eyes are clear and dont look as scary or hidden .

--

Shape wise , you'll notice that unlike HH!Kris , GBR!Kris is a direct mix of Frisk and Chara's shapes , and feel no doubt new readers may confuse Kris with either Frisk or Chara

This is intentional , to give sort of feeling of when deltarune first released and how shocking it was that Kris looked soo much liked Chara

We wanted make feel like "Kris just looks like Chara and Frisk" at first glance , but upon looking closer , they very much are quite different , just like canon .

--

But even then , the trio still looks distinct even when alone which is still important . We didnt want make feel like need squint too hard to tell difference .

----

2. This is also because of change in plot , in HH it was about Frisk and Chara trying to "save" Kris , but here Kris doesn't need that and instead they're all doing something else .

This change was made to fit with canon , as HH was made before chapter 2 of deltarune was out . Now we know that canon Kris very much has their own drive and wants , even though they are trapped , they still actively do their own thing .

-

So with this AU , we wanted to express GBR!Kris as more calm and not either extremes of depressed , or chaotic , or angry or scary . They're just sort of at peace for this moment in time .

They still suffer from depression and such , but it not as Direct as it was with HH!Kris design

---

To leave off , heres refs from 2019 ! (unsure if last picture is from 2020 , but it might be due to style)

Unfortunately lot of our old art suffers from whitewashing 😔we are a brown person so it does hurt to see in our early human art wwwwuww

Ty for reading 🐕

[lume-ish]

I've got a funny little theory

spoilers for tadc ep 5 btw

Guys Guys

What if Jax caused Ribbit to abstract.

Idk if anyone else has had this theory (i dont really interact with the tadc fandom that much), if someone has and I'm just repeating stuff then thats my bad.

Ok so I don't have a lot of evidence for this, a lot of this is just sort of "this feels right", l so take all of this with a spoonful of salt. I'll do my best to explain my thinking.

So.

In Episode 5 we learn that Jax had a friend (probably Ribbit) and that friend has abstracted. We also see Ragatha slowly begin to lose her patience and later lose her temper.

Something that kind of stuck out to me about this episode that I haven't really been able to stop thinking about is the interaction between Ragatha and Jax, the "Not anymore" part.

Now this might just be me, and I'm pretty bad at social cues anyway so heres why the salt's needed. The way she said it felt almost accusatory. Idk if thats the right word to put it, and we also are missing a lot of context. But its also the first time we've seen Ragatha make a deliberately "mean" comment. Even though she tries to explain afterwards that it wasn't meant to be taken that way.

It's also the first time in the episode where we see her actually kind of mad. Not mad mad, but she does look mad. Like a smaller version of the kind of angry that causes her to lash out later on.

Now I can't tell if she's looking at Pomni or just looking away in that shot but it looks like she's looking at Pomni. I mean I doubt she wanted Jax to hear anyway but something about it feels a little like schoolyard gossip yknow? like"don't play with little timmy, little timmy will bite you". Like what she was trying to say was "Yea, he used to have a friend, before he went too far"

"The first steps of a budding friendship, right Ragatha?" would also hit different with this context.

But I also think, if Jax really did cause Ribbit to abstract then why do the others put up with him? Why does Caine? If one of the members has already purposefully caused one of the other contestants to abstract then why keep that risk around? I thinkg Zooble especially would be far more antagonist towards Jax.

And yeah, this could also be summed up to them just learning to deal with Jax/putting up with him cause they're stuck with him for forever. But Idk I feel like Caine cares enough about the members to not leave a threat like that there? I mean he locks the abstractions away why couldn't he do the same to Jax?

So staying with that train of thought I think that yeah, it was Jax's fault. But what if Jax didn't think Ribbit would actually abstract.

Like he says "You guys all take this place way too seriously".

Like wouldn't that kind of fit what we've seen of Jax's character so far? Like yeah the 2 were friends, but being freinds doesn't mean you can't hurt eachoher. What if Jax did or said something, crossed a line, or what if he didn't do something? I doubt he was the type of friend that was a shoulder to cry on. Especially if Ribbit was anything like Jax.

Idk I think Jax feeling guilty instead of just sad also fits more too. I also think it'd be interesting story wise.

Jax caused the one person he considered a friend to basically die and not knowing how/or wanting to deal with the guilt and grief that comes from that, he continues doing what he's good at. Being an asshole.

Maybe thats part of why the rest of the members still semi-put up with him, even after causing Ribbit to abstract.

This also changes things for Ragatha, like with that context the moments where Ragatha's trying to befriend Pomni feel so much more idk desperates not the right word but it's close enough.

Yes she's lonely, she wants a friend and to make connections with the rest of the members, and she also doesnt want to watch another one of Jax's friends abstract cause of his stupid ego.

It adds a little layer of complexity to that last scene where she watches them leave too.

idkidk maybe this is nonsense, watch it get debunked in the next episode.

This theory is held together with red string and loose notecards don't take it too seriously.

[dandydrunky]

In The Absence Of Easy

Content warning: angst, hospital setting, mention of needles

Author's note: this is part of a mini series

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sharp smell of sanitizer and iodine inked the room like sharpie, lingering in the air like bad perfume. You tried to ignore it while the doctor scrubbed the heel of your stump like you had a thousand times before, trying to focus on the friction of cotton, but you couldn’t.

You couldn’t feel it. You could only imagine what it felt like, watching it shred between the doctor’s working fingers. She was quiet today, and didn't try to make conversation as you normally did.

You watched in silent dread, the remnant of your leg propped on a padded stool, skin jagged from the latest injury and progress delayed by another setback. Your fingers curled into the paper lined beneath you, tucked under the edge or the bed. It made you sick, ironically so, other than the phantom ache of a limb no longer attached, it still hurt like one.

You flinched, hearing the skipping of tape, even harder when a cool bandage was lined up around the curve of your stump, being pressed down with tape and then gauze. The roll fluttered through the air going over and under, masking the scarred flesh.

Dr. Harrow patted it down. Then, she paused, eyes flicking to your face, looking for any sign of discomfort. The whole process felt invasive to you, so there’s no way massaging the dressings down would have been the worse part.

She rose to her full height and you noticed her scrubs were tighter than last time, around the abdomen, the hem just barely covering the waistband of her pants.

It was hard to feel joy for her in her current state, surely she knows all of her patients are here because of genetics, some mutation or deformation of the sort.

That you could pass down whatever dormant disorder she’s carrying and unintentionally inflict it on her child, the worst punishment of all, life.

Maybe one day it’ll be her kid sitting here on this stiff bed. Hooked up to monitors or better yet in need of a nurse’s aid just to go pee. You almost pitied her, but you knew she knew better.

She set the tray back on the counter, the tools clinking softly.

Painkillers were typically administered next, but you had refused pills, so you’ve been attached to a morphine drip, feeding you micro doses through the course of the day. “You’re all done with me, I’ll send for Dr. Baylor,” Harrow informs, her usual exuberance muffled by the face mask.

You know the routine, you could do it in your sleep.

Harrow peeled the rubber gloves off with snap, tossing them in the can with your bloodied bandages, bracing her hands against the cart. She wheeled it out in a squeaky silence, letting the door close behind her, leaving you on the edge of your bed, waiting, rotting.

A soft knock on the door echoed through the room, but your lips remained pressed flat, uninviting. If this wasn’t mandatory you wouldn’t have even let him let himself in.

“Good morning,” he greeted, not looking up from his clipboard. “For you,” you countered, falling back across the mattress. He stopped short at the foot of your bed, taking a moment to assess you. Still in the spotted hospital gown, hair’s a mess, one purple sock on, and the machines clinging to your arms.

“Are you following your diet?” Since you were weighed last week, there was doubt of any major changes in seven days. “I missed dinner last night,” you shrugged, not bothering to sit up.

This is not what any of your doctor’s wanted to hear, but maintaining an appetite in your condition was hard enough.

You could hear a sigh under the scribbling of notes. You were bound to run him into an early grave; none of his other patients fought their illness with selectively applying treatment.

But freewill, he couldn’t stop you.

“And have you been taking your medication?” The twinge of hope in his voice was comical, but at least you could report that you have and it was time for a refill.

“How have you been feeling with these?”

It wasn’t what you were feeling, it was what you weren't. They were effective when you did take them, but overall you still felt bad. It wasn’t the illness, just the shitty reality of everything. “They make me tired,” you yawned, shifting against the mattress. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but neither were you.

After a counter-productive questionnaire Baylor scribbled down some more notes, punctuating the last one with the click of his pen. “Kid,” he combed a hand through his salt and peppered hair. He really did mean to help you, but he couldn’t force you to accept it. “If you keep up like this you’re only going to get worse.”

“Good thing I have you to stop that,” you droned, uninterested in another talk about life decisions. You were sick of being sick, but the only cure for you was to let it run its course. No more needles, no more pills, no more antibiotics, and no more pep talks. It was proving useless.

He cleared his throat, uncertainty settling. “Not for much longer.”

What does that mean? You grunted, struggling to sit up to face him, “what are you talking about?” Is there something else you missed? You tried to think over the last few days, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Routine check up for the leg and routine check up for the whole body, then you were left alone unless you needed a nurse.

“Your insurance doesn’t cover extended care.”

[princess-of-the-corner]

Actually that Enji/Rei genderswap au is floating in my head now. Like /technically/ it could also be a roleswap in Rei being a Hero but that's also a separate thing that I have a few different options with but like

It's fascinating to see how they change or don't change because of the gender stuff.

like like like

Rei. M!Rei would still be stuck with his shitty family. But it'd be different. He's still expected to be in an arranged marriage that's more of a business deal than an actual romance. But instead of being the trophy wife looking for a good upstanding man to take care of her and her family, he's the good upstanding man who would get a trophy wife.

He's expected to do something more than look pretty. Most likely taking over the family business affairs. Though something like becoming a Pro Hero isn't off the table. It's just one of those gender differences in how he's seen.

Meanwhile with Enji. He either changes a lot or not at all and it depends on like- Is this an au where /everyone/ is changed? Or just an au where Enji and Rei are genderswapped? Because this effects Enji's parents and thus his/her upbringing.

If only Enji and Rei are swapped, then Fem!Enji is relatively unchanged.

If everyone is swapped that changes Enji's family dynamic as she either has both parents or she's raised by Homura instead of Rin. Which means she's a lot more mentally stable even if she does still become fully orphaned at 14.

Then since this is CC we also have the Hikari factor. So Fem!Enji either knows about lesbians, or Hikari is also gender swapped in which.... that may leave the possibility open for them having a kid. Which makes things super tragic as Hikari would still die.

The actual Enji/Rei dynamic would also be interesting in like

CC!Rei toward Enji: "Oh? A man who isn't scared off when I'm not a polite doll? A man who treats me as a person with autonomy???"

Swap!Rei toward Enji: "A woman who is completely independent and doesn't need anyone? She isn't interested in me for money or status and surely not because her parents are pressuring her into it?? Just of her own free will???"

Meanwhile I could see Enji getting like. Somewhat annoyed at Rei at first because of the whole "Rei was raised to not know how to do things" bit. Like Rei wasn't as entirely raised to be helpless, but still comes from a place of privilege where he wouldn't know how to do basic things like cooking and it easily comes off as weaponized incompetence when he's a man who is relying on a woman to do things like cook and clean. Especially as that sort of thing would be something fem!Enji would be familiar with.

But also! I said it before but Fem!Enji wouldn't be as on board with the 'make a child with both their Quirks' plan because she'd be the one who would do the whole pregnancy thing and that means she would be on maternity leave and thus out of the field for at least a year which. OOF.

Not that they wouldn't have kids at all but like. I think Fem!Enji is more like "One planned child and then after that if it happens it happens and we deal with it" but she'd be absolute hell about wanting to go back to work even if she refuses to hire a nanny because fuck having someone else raise her kids.

Also I think the funniest part of this is that M!Rei's parents would /hate/ Fem!Enji from the get-go. They want Rei's wife to be someone 'womanly' and polite and submissively going along with whatever they want/whatever Rei asks of her. Enji is very much stubbornly independent and would not stand for their nonsense. They couldn't understand why M!Rei would be interested in her.

[sportsallover]

All in all, given what they kept saying about how Ronnie O’Sullivan broke his original cue out of frustration back in January and has been trying to get used to his new one (and new tip) since, I feel he had a good run at the worlds in the end