#also the concept and vibe-? >>>>>>>>

[hinamie]

round 2 of prelim designs for @philosophiums n my lovechild of an au

first year trio

[zipsunz]

magician // emperor

[ 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 ]

[dreemurr-skelememer]

another dreamtale gin doodle bc i thought about him el oh el

also i don't think i ever posted the concept designs i made for him? these aren't final but i think they look good so here they are anyway

[sensitiveheartless]

Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.

~*~

Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.

Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.

His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.

Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.

Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.

And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.

In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.

In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.

Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.

For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.

Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.

As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.

Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.

“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”

Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.

“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”

Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.

“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.

Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.

…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.

“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”

Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.

One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.

Nothing happened.

Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.

His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.

It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.

After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.

When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.

His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.

At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.

“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”

“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”

“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”

Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”

There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.

It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.

“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”

That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.

After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.

“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.

“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.

“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”

Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”

“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.

“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.

“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.

“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”

Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.

“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.

“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”

Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”

“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”

Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”

Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”

Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”

Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff. 

Hiding again, Chuuya thought.

For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.

Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.

But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.

Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.

And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.

Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.

“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”

That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.

“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”

“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.

“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.

“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”

Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”

That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.

Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.

All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”

Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.

He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.

“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”

Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”

Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.

Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.

“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.

Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”

“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”

“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”

There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.

He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.

“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.

Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”

Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.

Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.

And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.

So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”

Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”

Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.

And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.

The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.

“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”

A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”

At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”

A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”

“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”

[wolfythewitch]

In my brain somewhere the hadestown au is cyclical in a way where everyone, once, a lifetime ago or now, has in some way been Orpheus and Eurydice. Jon and Martin were Orpheus and Eurydice before tim and Sasha were, and the story was still the same. Jon turned to look and came up to the surface alone. Their Hades and Persephone were Peter and Elias. Maybe even before that, maybe Peter and Elias were Orpheus and Eurydice once. One of them must have turned. Someone will be Orpheus and Eurydice after, and maybe Tim and Sasha will be their Hades and Persephone. Orpheus will always look back. Eurydice will always forgive him

[brighteuphony]

@xoxo-lahh

So in this verse, Tsunade never ends up teaching Sakura- as that role is fulfilled by Chiyo. (But she DOES return to Konoha eventually).

And Chiyo's first rule (for everything lol) is: Nothing is Free.

Chiyo always demanded something in return for healing, and unlike Tsunade, she considered medical jutsu a part of her arsenal. If it could kill, then it was always an option.

So Sakura learned from that mindset, trading her services and using her rare skillet as a powerful negotiating tactic, especially during Tea Country's civil war. Her healing effectively kept her, Enji, and Saeko in relative safety and provided her a card to play when she needed.

And, while Sakura is nowhere near as jaded as Chiyo is, and often enough of a bleeding heart to help people for damn near free, (a place to stay, food for the night, a new holster for her kunai), she is also VERY pragmatic about her skillset. The civil war taught her that sometimes, letting someone die is better. This puts her at odds with Tsunade, who has a very different mindset (and was, historically, bitter enemies with Chiyo).

Another issue that arises with Tsunade, is that the Godaime is a doctor- while Chiyo is more of a healer. Their understanding of the human body comes from a different place.

Tsunade can name every bone and muscle and perform open-heart surgeries. Sakura can heal bone and stitch back together muscles and flesh on a very basic level, but she's never going to be able to open up a human body and revolutionize medical history like she does in canon. (In canon, Sakura creates a Jutsu that allows her to do a four-man surgery alone; she can't do that here.)

However, she can do some stuff that Tsunade claims is impossible—like reconstructing/altering someone's chakra network, unblocking tenketsu, sometimes turning off someone's dojutsu from a distance, and lite-healing remotely (Tsunade is very upset about this one specifically). A lot of it comes from her mastery of Genjutsu.

Genjutsu, as I reworked in my comic, requires a complete understanding of someone's chakra network to control ALL their senses. Sakura's understanding and control are so prodigious that she can almost autonomously control people's bodily functions (a skillset that is GREATLY aided by training with Chiyo's puppet mastery).

She uses Genjutsu as a tool to understand the body and employs it as both support (helping an ally maintain a sense of gravity as they're pulled underground or flung in the air, etc) and offense.

And that's it for the wall of text! Once again, thank you SO much for the amazingly kind words and all the interest in this AU! <3

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

Me: hey brain, can we think normal things tonight?

Brain: PALEONTOLOGIST!DEAN FINDS AN ANGEL THAT GOT BURIED DURING THE EXTINCTION OF THE DINOSAURS.

Me: *quietly* ...what the fuck

Brain: Dean is working on an excavation in a cave system when he uncovers this. fcking HUMAN BEING WITH *WINGS* AND *TOO MANY EYES*. PRESERVED IN ROCK IN THE SAME STRATA AS THE DINOSAURS. And ofc Dean is really freaked out and scared of this thing, but then he notices that the figure is curled forward over something, and as he looks closer he sees the skeletons of a nest of baby raptors that the "human" figure was holding tight to its chest, like it was trying to shield them from something. And he realizes that this... Thing... died protecting them.

Except the "human" figure isnt a skeleton, its preserved fully in the rock. Or perhaps...

[1071png]

final rest

[blancherries-art]

It feels good to be back.

(A more risque version under the cut)

[puppyeared]

just realized i forgot to make a page for sleight on my artfight, so i decided to update his ref while im at it

[wizards101official]

Bad cliche theory but in my mind there has to be some sort of actual guy behind Wally

[emil1863]

The most illegal thing Koby has done is learn a divine language... Which is only a little bit more illegal than dating a God

So.

Thoughts on language/religion in regards to this au. They aren't fully fleshed out but I'll clean it up as I go.

Learning a divine language is kinda taboo, like, you can learn them, and it's certainly less frowned upon than poneglyph, but outward practice isn't really accepted. Many people who are religious or follow religious practices are well versed in divine languages, in order to feel closer to their respective Gods.

Besides, religion makes people feel at ease and the world government is pretty relaxed when it comes to punishing those for worshiping or following their Gods. With how many there are, and how deeply a lot of it is ingrained into so many cultures, it'd also be a pain in the ass to control both that and pirates.

Koby learns through the people he meets while traveling. A lot of them think it's odd but fascinating that a young, wide-eyed marine wants to learn something like that. They indulge him anyways.

He did get better at understanding the language but his pronunciation isn't great, kinda hard to make some of the sounds Luffy makes too. Especially when he isn't used to talking like that, nor are most people. Demigods have an easier time picking up on speaking the actual... Words?

Robin understands the language of the Gods, and the rest of the Straw Hats do pick up on it a little bit just through exposure to Luffy. Luffy isn't the greatest teacher, but having people who want to understand him is always exciting. He is thrilled when he meets up with Koby on Water 7 and Koby can understand him.

[miniiieevee]

Whistling can be heard as it approaches

[hrokkall]

HOW TO PIN YOUR INSECTS:

Position limbs into desired arrangement and pin in place

Maintain eye contact

Pin should pass through the center of the thorax

Move slowly; lest the divine light leak out along with the ichor

Wait for the embers to die.

Wait for the embers to reignite.

[pharawee]

Humans are complex, whether in life or in death.

—THE HIDDEN MOON · เดือนพราง · 7 September 2024

[johnslittlespoon]

Thinking about the exquisite imagery of Bucky shaving his mustache, while in contrast Buck let’s his scruff grow in. I can see it so clearly: Bucky shaves the ‘stach when they’re in the POW camp as a result of losing a bet (it’s highly probable he lost of purpose because he wants to give the men an opportunity to laugh it up). But it totally goes sideways once it becomes clear how young he looks without it. Buck on the other hand is stressing over this new change enough to forget to shave for a few weeks straight. Is this brain rot due to me thinking about Callum’s look in the Green Room combined with Austin’s look in the Bikeriders? Yes. Please send help.

in case anyone needs a lovely visual! (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

okay, while i PERSONALLY am in love with bucky's stache and feel like shaving it even in fiction would be an absolute travesty, i see the vision and i agree, i could totally see something like that happening.

john does it as a joke/for a bet and figures that hey, they're all gonna be stuck in the camp for a while anyway, chances are it'll grow back by the time it really matters. no big deal, and it gets laughs in a place where those are increasingly rare, even if he has to suffer through relentless teasing about his baby face for a few weeks.

gale does not deal with it nearly as well, however; it throws off any routine he's built and it feels ridiculous because it's just facial hair but it's such a big change after the monotony of day–to–day behind the fence that it's enough to rattle his brain. and letting his own facial hair grow out probably isn't even a conscious choice, almost like a mindless way of falling back into sync with john as both of theirs grows back.

if buckbucky is an established thing in this verse, we all know damn well john would be obsessed with gale's scruff, rubbing his own cheek up against it like a cat, thirsting over it and ogling him 24/7.

and the way it feels against his thighs, stubble burn leaving the sensitive skin a pretty pink when gale's face is between his legs...

john would be devastated and pouty when it comes time for him to finally shave it, but gale would promise him "when we get out, i'll let it grow back for a bit, yeah?" and that would perk him right up. <3