#and I'll write it myself if need be

[grizzersmamma]

Omg omg omg omg I just read both of your Deamon AU fics???? They are so good!! And beautifully written!!!

please please if not too much trouble, can I please request for that Au?? Maybe like all of 141 meeting each other and Deamon’s for the first time?? I picture Gaz has some kind of bird like a mourning dove or a humming bird and Price has a stronger dog breed- like a Shepard of a sheep bearding dog — y know something protective?

UGH I LOVE THIS AUUU A

((sorry if you aren’t taking requests on this, I just wanna say it’s the best thing I’ve read💕💕💕))

Requests are always open! (I just might take a while because I'm slow af lol)

I wanted to get this out this weekend just passed, but I got a fresh 'rona shot on Friday and it took me out with more precision than a sniper bolt to the face jfc. I absolutely adore the thought of Gaz with a little birb (a pretty one ofc), but I'd actually already picked something out for him, so I hope you like it almost as much as your idea. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: John Price has hand picked every member of his Task Force carefully to create the perfect team we have today, even if it hasn't always felt like that.

Notes: Written from Price's POV reflecting on the team's past.

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Taglist: @heyitsropi

The first time John met Simon, he was only that, Simon Riley. The Ghost was yet to exist, and in his place, was a young man still full of life. He was friendly enough to the men close to him, but with a weariness toward anyone unknown.  

That caution, of course, extended toward John in the early few days. The first few times they interacted, he was strictly professional, his daemon even more so. The panther would stalk along beside her human, remaining in silence throughout all discussions, coming and leaving as quietly as a shadow. 

But over time, the younger man gradually began to settle. Simon certainly wasn’t the only person in the military to suffer from a rather poor childhood riddled with trauma and pain, and his team were kind enough to never push him too far. He would always maintain a slight distance between himself and the rest of the men on his squad, but he was often quick to smile and joke with them, telling what very well could have been the worst “dad jokes” known to man.  

Both Simon and Elanor seemed to revel in the pained groans his terrible jokes could invoke, smiling innocently as if not understanding why everyone was so upset. It wasn’t a surprise to learn that Simon had a younger brother, he certainly had the annoying-older-brother act nailed down perfectly.  

After a few good missions together, Simon was less reluctant to talk about his family with John in the room, discussing what he planned to get his nephew for Christmas, where he wanted to take his mum out for lunch during leave, and how he was going to get Tommy back for getting a stain on his ManU jersey.  

Simon was a good man and a great soldier, and John was disappointed when the time came for him to return to his own unit. John was to travel up north toward Herefordshire and Simon was to meet with some of their American contacts to help root out a cartel down in Mexico.  

Ghost was not the same person as Simon. He had the same daemon, the same brown eyes, but he was not Simon. He lacked the underlying gentleness in his eyes, and he’d grown to be cold and closed off toward everyone around him, friend or foe.  

If Simon’s daemon had been quiet before, she was dead silent now. Liz would trot over to the cat with a slowly wagging tail and try to greet her, but the panther would just look at her, before slinking off to go rejoin her human. It was heartbreaking to see a daemon who had only just started to come out of her shell become so walled off again.  

Sometimes he wouldn’t even see the animal in the same room and couldn’t help wondering where the daemon could have vanished to. Just seeing a daemon so far away from its human sent a shiver down John’s spine whenever he thought about it, his fingers instinctively curling themselves into the soft fur of his own.  

The reports he had seen about what had happened to Simon to create this Ghost, some of them first-hand from Simon’s own therapist, sent his stomach rolling uncomfortably, and the parts about their treatment of Elanor? He had sweat beading his forehead and Liz pulled into his lap. The rough collie did her best to comfort him, but he could feel her own distress at just the thought of such a thing happening.  

It took well over half a year before Ghost and Elanor were comfortable with turning their backs on John and Liz, and several before they were comfortable working alongside them. The Ghost and his daemon worked alone, but John and Liz were gradually, slowly, at the rate of a melting glacier, becoming an exception to the rule.  

This made it particularly difficult when Ghost was introduced to Soap.  

John MacTavish was, and still is, a loud and confident man. He doesn’t tolerate nonsense and will proudly stand behind his own personal morals and beliefs, even if it’s to the detriment of his professional career. He stands for what’s right, regardless of the consequences, and he’s entirely unapologetic of that fact.  

Soap’s daemon, Gwen, is a perfect match for him. A honey badger, just as unconcerned with the thoughts and feelings of others, and entirely fearless, even when up against daemons easily twice her size. They share a fierce aggression that would have most shaking in their boots, and John has seen firsthand even lions fleeing from their warpath.  

To say that Soap was a bit... much... for Ghost would be an understatement. Soap is so openly friendly with every team he works with, both verbally and physically, and his rather emotional responses to things seem to constantly have the masked soldier on edge.  

Since their first meeting, Soap has learned to reign in his emotions and has matured greatly with the help of experience and the guiding hands of more seasoned soldiers. But several years ago, fresh out of SAS selection, he was far too much for a quiet Ghost who could hardly stand having even John working with him at the best of times.  

While their first meeting didn’t exactly go swimmingly, it ended amicably enough since Soap didn’t seem to take Ghost’s reluctance to socialise to heart. Meanwhile, Ghost just appeared glad to have a break from spending time around someone so bright and bubbly, almost immediately vanishing on a solo mission for a week.  

Kyle was a much safer bet for working alongside Ghost. The young man, while inexperienced, was the top of his class and always eager to learn more. He was like a sponge, soaking up every little piece of advice he’s given and doing his best to apply it to his work. He always asks the right questions at the right times, and always thinks on his words before speaking.  

His daemon, a friendly marbled polecat by the name of Milly, was the first daemon Elanor was willing to open up to. She wasn’t insistent like many of the other daemons in the military, providing the panther with plenty of space, but always choosing to sit beside her, greeting her with a happy chirp. These simple greetings were eventually returned with small nods or pleasant rumbles, and over time, and two daemons fell into the rhythm of being at one another’s side.  

Gaz was always seeking out new things to learn and Ghost had plenty to teach. No matter how difficult the lesson, he would always have the determination to see it through to the end, and his mature, competent nature was gradually winning over the stubborn lieutenant. On the rare occasion where Kyle wasn’t with John, he could be confident that Ghost would have the younger man’s back.  

But Gaz brought more than plain professionalism to their team, he also brought the fun, youthful spark that the group had been missing. His sassy remarks during OPs and cheeky behaviour off the field was worming its way under Ghost’s thick skin, and John could see it in the way his lieutenant began to offer banter of his own in return.  

It was like watching a grizzled old dog interacting with a friendly young pup, slowly relearning what it meant to actually enjoy life here and there. Sometimes Ghost still needed that time to be alone with Elanor, but Kyle and Milly were drawing them out of the dark and back into the light again.  

More often than not the two could be found sitting peacefully together, doing nothing but enjoying the company of their fellow brother in arms. Whether it was eating meals together in private where others wouldn’t see Ghost removing part of his mask, running on the track first thing in the morning to wake themselves up, or claiming the bench under the old tree where they could discuss upcoming schedules or laugh at the young recruits just learning to walk, it was all done by each other's side.  

John could see the pride in Ghost’s eyes whenever Gaz managed to get an upper hand on him in training, he could see how Elanor now greeted Milly with a gentle headbutt, how trust was building between them and their team was solidifying into something unbreakable. Gaz was a loyal man, almost to a fault, but he had awarded that loyalty to John and Ghost and, in return, had been given it back tenfold. 

But the team was yet to be complete, and it wouldn’t be, not until John MacTavish joined them.  

John was admittedly still not certain how well Ghost would take to working so closely with Soap after finding the other man a tad overwhelming the first time, but with Liz’s encouragement and seeing how much Ghost was beginning to come out of his shell, he had no choice but to commit to the selection. Soap’s file reported nothing but constant rapid improvement. He was a talented, driven man, and precisely someone John wanted on his new task force.  

The offer was sent out and immediately accepted.  

Soap and Gaz were, understandably, complete menaces. Two young men eager to prove themselves and have a little fun while they’re at it. They’re thick as thieves and both just as determined to inconvenience John as much as possible while dodging reprimands like the plague. “A bunch of children” he’d called them one day, earning a grunt of agreement from Ghost, Liz and Elanor sharing a look of endless suffering. 

As for the relationship between Ghost and Soap, the best John was hoping for was for them to learn to accept one another, even if that was just enough to be able to put their best foot forward during missions. And it worked well enough, until Las Almas happened. Until Sheperd happened. 

Until Simon happened.  

Years of hiding away, and suddenly it wasn’t Ghost standing before him. It was Simon.  

Soap was looking right at him, and Simon was looking right back.  

Something had changed between them. From the report he got from the two soldiers about the events that transpired he couldn’t tell what, but it was clearly something significant. It had changed them from work colleagues to something far more dangerous. A better man would have nipped it in the bud before it had the change to potentially ruin them, but John has never claimed to be a good man, good men don’t last long in their line of work.  

If he and Gaz are a good team, Ghost and Soap are unstoppable.  

When they think he’s not looking, John has caught how Gwen excitedly jumps around Elanor’s body, learning against the dangerous predator and covering her with affectionate licks. More surprising, is how Elanor returns the behaviour, nipping playfully at the badger’s feet and tussling about on the carpet like a pair of kittens.  

It isn’t until he sees Soap’s bare hand brush through Elanor’s fur that he knows the depth of what they are to one another.  

He just hopes he hasn’t made a horrible mistake.  

[bluerosefox]

Mama Bat

There was a baby in the Batcave.

There was a baby in the Batcave.

There was a glowing, white haired, Lazarus green eyed baby floating in the freaking Batcave!

A baby that was currently wearing a superhero themed footy pajamas and making tiny circles in the air as they coo and make spit bubbles.

A baby Cass had found while on patrol... in Hong Kong before suddenly and somehow appearing in Gotham. In the Batcave.

Along with them, sitting innocently on the batcomputer chair was a baby bag (themed after Black Bat somehow) full of everything a baby needed a glowing green sticky note with purple handwriting on it.

'Cassandra Cain-Wayne

Take care of our little Ghostling. Everything will make sense in due time.

P.S Daniel enjoys the stars.

-CW'

By the time Bruce finished reading the note aloud, Cass had manged to get a hold of the baby who was making happy noises and patting her cheek.

And a second later a blinding light overtook the baby and once the light was gone, the baby now had black hair and bright blue eyes.

[thilsiktonix]

small little doodle page for you @niceguyanonymous !!!!!

((I tried my best, I'm not a very good writer, but I hope you like it <33 sorry I didn't put too much detail into this one, I wasn't sure how exactly to interpret it!))

[canisalbus]

hello! i've written a short little machete fic, and i wanted to share it with you as thanks for all the incredible art and generous question-answering you've been doing these last few months. i hope that if you give it a look, you enjoy it. <3 keep up all your amazing work! archiveofourown [.] org / works / 50945128

✦ A Voi ✦

[twilight-blaze]

yes, their close platonic relationship in canon is important to me specifically because it's both close and platonic

yes, I also ship them romantically, or as part of a romantic poly ship

I refuse to lock myself into a single interpretation of a fictional relationship when there's multiple interesting ways to view it. I can do both

[carionto]

Just. One. More. Episode.

Alien: Hmm, I haven't seen Human in a while.

Alien 2: That is worrying, you know to never leave your Human out of sight for too long. That's how you get the Ant World they tried to hide.

A: Hmm, but it's also not a good idea to pry into their privacy too much.

A2: True. What were they last doing?

A: Carrying several boxes of flavored nutrient packs into their apartment.

A2: Did they mention anything about a specific subject that had not come up much at all before?

A: Hmm, they did recommend I check out a documentary series about true crime. I did, but couldn't finish. It went into disturbing details.

A2: Oh no. Now, this is important - did they say the word marathon before you last saw them?

A: Hmm, I think so, yes.

A2: How many boxes? And how long ago since they brought them in?

A: Hmm, eight and three days ago.

A2: Your Human will appear in about thirteen days.

A: Ah, I think I understand now, but they're alone, shouldn't a standard nutrient box last about 5 days per Human?

A2: When on a regular schedule, yes, roughly. Your Human is intently watching countless hours of these documentaries and are likely unaware of their rate of consumption due to being emotionally engaged with the subject matter.

A: That is... disturbing. Should we intervene?

A2: No, it's a phase. If we take them away from their current subject of passion, it will become more entrenched, potentially. Best to let them run out of nutrients and force themselves to leave that environment. Then we can persuade them to return to normalcy, given they will be more accepting of the idea due to leaving that situation of their own will.

A: And if they are not persuadable?

A2: Then we get another Human to metaphorically "bonk" them back to their senses. Although on some Humans a literal bonking works too. It's very circumstantial.

A: Hmm...

A2: Although there is also the risk of the other Human becoming convinced to join them instead on further diving into the subject matter. There does appear to be an endless supply of these true crime shows on the Human extranet.

A: That is... not reassuring in any way.

A2: Well, that's Humans for you.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Of Truths & Dreams; Malleus Draconia

Dreams can tell you a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.

Supporting Characters; Lilia Vanrouge & Malenoa Draconia

Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, canon divergence, hurt/comfort

Content Warnings; Chapter 7 spoilers, overblot stuff, swearing

Word Count; 5 K

Don't put my work into AI, I will hunt you for sport.

Prologue & Lilia's Story | Sebek's Story

Malleus was born into this world alone. His mother, dead, and his father, missing. It was a miracle that he even hatched, as Draconia eggs required love to hatch. And his grandmother was ridden with grief, over losing her only child. It was no wonder why he was delayed by several centuries. And despite everything, he hatched. But despite his hatching, the love and adoration that people gave him, he was alone. Malleus didn’t feel loved, not in the way that mattered.

His subjects, his guards, his teachers, even his own grandmother loved the idea of him. And he was raised away from the outside world, within the dark halls of Briar Castle. Malleus was an idea, and the hope for the future rather than his own person. It was a lot for a child to handle. So, of course, he would sneak out when he thought no one was looking. The guards would realize rather quickly that the sole heir to Briar Valley, their most treasured royal, was missing. But Malleus didn’t care.

“Good evening,” he greeted the raven gargoyle that was at the westernmost turret of the outside wall. Malleus looked in the direction that the raven did, looking out into the moors. A dense fog had rolled in, covering everything in a white haze. “Do you ever wonder what’s out there?”

He knew that the stone wouldn’t answer him, but he asked anyways. “Grandmother tells me stories you know,” he sighed, taking a seat in one of the carved-out alcoves in the ancient stone. “That Briar Valley will one day be mine to keep. But I cannot rule without a soul match.”

Soul matches were quintessential for the Draconias, after all, it was their own ancestor the Thorn Fairy, who had gifted the fae the blessing. But Malleus had yet to find any trace of them in his dreams. Typically, members of his family were born with their soul match already in their dreams, but Malleus had yet to meet them, his dreams still being black and white, and no blurry stranger to speak of in sight. It was distressing, and he heard the whispered concerns of his grandmother when she thought he was in bed.

And those whispers played in his head. “Is there something the matter with me?” All the young prince got for an answer though was the distant cawing of ravens, and the approaching sounds of footsteps. “Did I do something wrong?”

It felt like he did something wrong. Why else would the Thorn Fairy withhold his birthright to a soul match? Why would she punish him? Had he already not been punished enough?

“So that’s where you were hiding,” the familiar voice of Lilia pulled Malleus from his thoughts. “Come now, young prince, you can’t hide away forever.” Lilia offered his hand for the young boy to take. 

Malleus looked at his outstretched hand to his face, and placed his hand in Lilia’s. “Did I upset everyone again?” His voice was quiet as the two of them walked hand and hand down the uneven steps of the turret’s staircase.

Lilia hummed, “Upset? No. Worry? A little bit.” He was used to barking out orders in the battlefield, not looking after children, let alone one so precious to the Valley. But Lilia felt that he needed to, for both his Queen, and the late princess. He had a duty to keep, an oath that he lived by; to protect the royal line.

Malleus frowned, giving the moors a final look before he and his keeper descended into the heart of the castle. “I just wanted to find them.”

“And you will,” Lilia gave the prince a practised smile, as it was still something he was getting used to. “It may just take some time is all.”

“But mother and grandmother both were born with their soul matches already in their dreams. Why is mine not with me now?” Malleus was starting to spit a bit of fire, clearly becoming upset with his own frustration. “Why must they keep me waiting?”

Lilia took a knee, and gently placed his hands on Malleus’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Good things come to those who wait. It must mean that the Thorn Fairy is taking her time in finding the best match for you.” Lilia’s eyes searched Malleus’s and he propped himself back up. “So since it is taking a while, they must be very special.”

Malleus was still upset, but that put him at ease. Good things come to those who wait. So the longer he had to wait, the better his soul match should be, and that put his turbulent mind at ease… for now.

…

…

Malleus was standing in the thick fog of the moors. And it was deathly silent, not even the crickets or the throaty calls of frogs filled in the silent din. “Another dream,” he sighed to himself. 

Of course it was a dream, which was obvious due to everything being in various shades of grey, white, and black, but also because he wasn’t allowed past the castle’s outer walls without someone else accompanying him.

“Why have you brought me here,” Malleus quietly asked the fog.

It is said that the Thorn Fairy lived in the moors, that she protected the moors. She put up an impenetrable wall of thorns, to protect her people from those who wished to destroy them. But the moors remained silent, and barren of colour or life. Malleus hummed to himself the lullaby that his grandmother sang to him while he was still a baby, and still in his egg. He has heard this song over the centuries as he lay dormant. Permanently etched into the deepest recesses of his mind. The lullaby was crafted solely for the fae to learn of soul matches.

Malleus stopped humming. He hadn’t met them yet, so it didn’t feel right to hum the original lyrics. “I’ll know you. I will walk with you once upon a dream,” he sang slowly, walking to nowhere in particular, the fog moving gently with his movements. “I’ll know you, that look in your eyes will be so a familiar a gleam.” 

He started dancing by himself, making the fog swirl around him. “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I’ll know you, I know what you’ll do.” Malleus made one large twirl, and all the emotions he had were summoned as fire, setting the dry grass of the moors ablaze, yet he was untouched as his dream was slowly being reduced to ashes.

“You’ll love me at once,” he whispered quietly, “the way you did once upon a dream.” Smoke filled the air, and where there was once light, white fog, there was now heavy, black smoke.

It was simply a dream though, nothing more. But dreams reveal truths, even if we don’t want to confront them.

…

…

…

Malleus had missed the entrance ceremony… again, at least Lilia was all over it, but it still rubbed Malleus in all of the wrong ways. But was it really his fault? He had never received an invitation… due to his electronics acting up again due to his own magic, so maybe it was his fault. Maybe next year! … Oh right, he would be a fourth year and not studying within the confines of Night Raven College, so in actuality, there was no next year.

At least there was a familiar face that was new to the dorm, and Sebek was overjoyed and followed Malleus dutifully. But that didn’t really change his own inner turmoil; he is next in line to be king, and yet he wasn’t able to attend something as simple as an annual recurring event? It troubled him, even as he was preparing himself for bed, adjusting his custom pillow just so.

I just wish I were invited? A proper letter. He mused in his own head, before finding himself back in the moors. It was always the moors. By this point he had traversed the entirety of it, and seen everything it had to offer, all of its little secrets. Not hard when he’s had nearly a century of time to do so.

He started humming his version of the lullaby, as he mindlessly floated along a path that he had made with his own footsteps, well trodden. Good things come to those who wait. That’s what he’s told himself, night after night. That’s what he told himself every morning when he woke up. He was getting tired of waiting. He was supposed to have been born with his soul match already in his dreams, but no one had ever appeared in Malleus’s dreams. He was always alone in the moors, with not even animals to keep him company. He was not only isolated in his waking world, the real world, but he was also isolated in his dreams.

Malleus was all alone, he had been alone for a while. Yes, he may have guards, and loyal servants, but above all else, they saw him as their next king, not Malleus; they didn’t see him for him. So maybe it was fitting that he didn’t have a soul match either. Maybe the Thorn Fairy wanted him alone.

Right as those feelings surfaced though, his dream changed. Malleus was very much still in the moors, but the silence was gone. The soft chirping of crickets filled the void. There was life, and it was all at once. The fog was still there, but Malleus could also see the faint lights of fireflies, glowing softly. This, this was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The once still moor was now gently rustling, breathing.

In front of him, the fog became dense, and a figure slowly emerged from it, looking around in a confused state. But they then turned their full attention to Malleus, and everything became saturated in violet.

Good things come to those who wait. They were here, they were finally here. Malleus was finally not alone.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. He did not know who they were, did not know of their upbringing or social status, but none of that mattered. They were his soul match, which usurped everything else. 

He watched curiously as his words floated in front of him, a harsh, neon green. His soul match did the same, watching as the words faded away.

“Uh, nice to meet you too?” Their words, your words, floated in front of Malleus, the same shade of green as his. “Who are you? Where am I?”

Malleus hummed, intrigued by their reaction. Perhaps they were not taught of soul match bonds, which would be understandable, as not all families knew of the bonds the Thorn Fairy had gifted them. “I will explain all in time, for now though, let us walk together, and enjoy this moment. Shall we?”

He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it, but right as your hands were about to meet, your form turned back into mist, leaving Malleus alone yet again in his dream. “Hmm, they must have woken up suddenly… perhaps tomorrow night then…” He murmured to himself, and continued down his footpath, watching the fireflies blink in the distance.

…

…

That was a weird ass dream, and you were kinda thankful that Grim had rudely woken you up. Kinda being the key word. And you couldn’t really get back to sleep, instead just staring up at the decaying ceiling above you, just wishing that you could go back to sleep. But what was up with the formal-speaking stranger? Why were you in some sort of swamp? Why was everything purple? And why were your words floating in front of you and a bright ass neon green? It was only your first night too… maybe this was just your brain coming up with weird scenarios to distract you from the weirdness you experience while awake? Maybe some inter-dimensional travel side effects? Like some form of jet lag that messed with your dreams? Sure, let’s pin it on that.

“Ughhhh, I hate it here,” you groaned. It would be a few hours before classes even began, so you had plenty of time for utter boredom, how fun. At least you had borrowed some books from the library, a mix of general information — since that ‘headmage’ hadn’t given you a proper welcome or a lowdown on how this world functioned — and just some interesting looking cover. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Sure, but when the book was a deep violet leather-bound book, with green metallic filigree? How could you not be curious about it? It was stunning.

“Of Truths and Dreams,” you whispered to yourself, that was the title of the book, the font in the style of calligraphy from medieval texts. How old was it? Were you actually allowed to touch it, let alone read it? It looked like it belonged in a museum.

You carefully undid the metal clasp, in the shape of a dragon’s claw. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. And you began reading.

Dreams can reveal much about a person; their wants, their fears, their memories. Dreams also hold power, and such power has been bestowed to the Draconia family. And this power comes from our ancestor, the Thorn Fairy.

You snapped the book shut. This wasn’t just a book, it was a diary. You shouldn’t be reading this… but this was a chance to learn more about this world. Learn about it from… You open up the diary again, and find the owner’s name written in the same calligraphy as the title. Maleficia Draconia. 

-

As with all fae, our family too is blessed with soul matches who enter our dreams as we sleep. Our family is different though, as we are born with them already in our minds; our dreams tinted in a colour that represents both of us. They are of utmost importance to us. Without them, we cannot rule. They may become an advisor, a confidant, and in some cases, a lover. That is for both parties to decide though, we cannot use our power or status to influence their decision, no matter how we feel about them, Malenoa. Do not let our draconic greed dictate the relationship. It surfaces as a song. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem. But if I know you, I’ll know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream. Ignore that song, my love, for that is the greed speaking, and not the truth. Ignore it at all costs, for it will stain the heart…

The rest of the diary was left blank, the edges of the paper charred. Turning it back over, you noticed that the entire back of the book was blackened, blackened by fire. And even though you didn’t know who Maleficia was, she had helped you a great lot. Whatever that dream was, that was no ordinary stranger. They were your… soul match? Yeah, whatever that meant.

…

…

Malleus found himself walking outside of his old haunting grounds, Ramshackle dorm. He was surprised to find it now occupied, but his sadness had morphed into something far more pleasant. He had gained a friend. He had gained you.

“Good evening, Child of Man,” he greeted you, taking notice of the large yawn that escaped your mouth. “More tired than usual I see. You do not need to walk with me tonight if rest is what you need.”

Malleus meant well, in his own odd and formal way. “Eh, it’s nothing, Tsunotarou. I’ll get some shut eye in a bit,” you waved off his concern, and shot him a small smile.

He gave you back a tiny smile, remembering the last time that he gave someone a full smile, they were left scared, not happy. He didn’t want to scare you off. That’s why he let you decide on a nickname for him, that but also names hold power… but he trusted you, he just didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want your friendship to change just because you found out he was the Malleus Draconia, but he also knew that you wouldn’t really care. You didn’t seem like the type to treat him any differently just because of his title. He didn’t want to risk it though.

So the two of you walked around the outskirts of Ramshackle, fireflies lighting the way. Something about them felt familiar though, and it wasn’t from just your nightly walks with your horned friend. You could have sworn you saw them in a dream… now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to enjoy what time you could get with your friend.

“Hey, Tsunotarou,” you asked him, turning a bit so you faced him. “Do you have a soul match?”

Malleus’s pupils dilated outwards, becoming more rounded rather than harsh slits. “Yes I do, Child of Man. I am rather surprised that you know of the subject,” he breathed out. You really were full of surprises, weren’t you?

Surprised? “How so?”

Malleus hummed to himself, a melody that sounded familiar, but it evaded you. “The bonds of soul matches of fae are only known by fae, which is why I was caught by surprise of you knowing of the term. That is all.” Do you have one, Child of Man? But why does the thought make my tongue go bitter?

“Found it in a book in the library,” you mused. You mentally kicked yourself, you could have given it to him, he may know the family of the previous owner. Maybe you could go hunting for it the next time you found yourself in the cramped halls of the library. A rather large yawn escaped from you, and that was your, and Malleus’s, queue that it was time for you to head off to the land of dreams. “Any who, night, Tsunotarou! Sweet dreams!” You waved him goodbye as he vanished into a puff of fireflies, off into the night.

…

…

And they were both asleep again, but something felt off. Like there was something dark tainting the dream. It was a familiar sensation, one that made the hairs on your neck stand on end; blot. There was blot in the dream.

“Are you alright,” you asked your soul match, carefully watching their reaction.

They hummed, and turned to look at you curiously, green eyes practically glowing in the dark violet lighting, pupils relaxing from their tight slits into more relaxed ovals. “I am alright, just thinking is all,” their words floated in front of them, still the neon green they were in the beginning.

But the alarm bells were screaming in your head. Screaming at you that everything was definitely not alright. This, this was being calculated, being considered. “You just seem preoccupied… like your mind is elsewhere is all.”

They tilted their head, “I am right here with you.” Their words were blunt, as they typically were. “However,” the lighting darkened, being tainted with more hints of blot, “are you planning on going anywhere?” Are you planning on leaving me, like everyone else?

The words hang heavily in the air. It was no use lying to them, as it would only worsen the situation to lie. “Eventually I have to… I have to go back,” you said carefully, gauging their reaction.

Malleus’s pupils turned into slits again, but he remained calm on the outside. “Go back to what? Do you not like it here?” Do you not like me?

You looked around the bog, “That’s not the case. I have responsibilities back home. I need to go back. I’m …” Sorry. But the word didn’t come out of your mouth. What did you have to apologise for? It was not your fault that you came here, but why did it feel like it?

“I too have responsibilities,” Malleus said quietly, words barely visible. “You cannot go back.” All of the pleasantries were gone, this was a command. “You are staying here with me.”

The blot thickened. Could someone overblot in their dreams? And they started singing, and it was the tune that they’ve been humming since their first shared dream.

“I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam,” they cupped your face, looking softly into your eyes. “And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…” The violet lighting of the dream had turned almost black, the only lighting being the neon green words dancing around you. “You’ll love me at once, they way you did once-”

You shot up awake, heart beating so fast that you could feel and hear it. You didn’t need your soul match to finish the lyric, for you knew it already… for you had read it in that fire-charred diary. “… upon a dream,” you breathed out.

Your soul match is Malleus Draconia, Tsunotarou, and this was bad. The greed had taken over… alongside the blot. 

…

…

Malleus looked over the forms of his sleeping classmates, singing the lullaby again. He could see everybody’s dreams, except for yours, and it was equally as annoying as it was endearing. Of course his Child of Man would be filled with surprises. Malleus only wished that his soul match was here, for he wished to see their deepest desires, to see how they would be the hero of their own tale. But when he closed his eyes, and tried to teleport to their dreams, he saw nothing. It distressed him too, he knew they were asleep, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Where are you,” he chuckled darkly, a mix of anger but also fear. He should be able to see them, but he saw nothing, nothing except for the moors now engulfed in ink. Devoid of colour and life. 

Soul match bonds cannot break, at least not easily. Either they were no longer of this world — which they were not, Malleus could sense that much — or they were underneath a sleeping spell, a Draconia’s sleeping spell.

It meant that they were on the island. They have been so close this entire time. “Now, wherever could you be hiding,” Malleus sighed, looking into every single person’s dreams, looking for his soul match. Their dream should be tinted violet, singling them out to him. And as Malleus hopped from dream to dream, not once did he find the familiar colour. But they were here… he just couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see their dreams.

That left one option. There was only one person who he couldn’t see the dreams of. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you,” he floated over to your sleeping form, coming to sit next to you with a fond look in his eyes, “my dear Child of Man.” And he started humming that song of his, trying to pry into your mind, trying to get back into your dreams, where he could keep a diligent eye on you. “Looks like we have indeed met once upon a dream… that must be why your eyes are so familiar a gleam.”

…

“Yeah, this, this is beyond bad,” you muttered to yourself. You were back in the swamp, up to your chest in thick ink. The once pleasant dream was now, effectively, a trap; a giant glue trap if you will. 

A boom of thunder overhead underscored your statement and brilliant flashes of bright purple and green lightning provided the only light for you, everything else was shrouded in darkness caused by the blot. Caused by Malleus. But why, why did he overblot?

“They found a way for me to go back home.” Oh. You're leaving, and add onto that, Lilia coming out from nowhere and saying that he was also leaving because his magic had dried out… That’s why.

“TSUNOTAROU!” You yelled out into the swamp, but all you got as an answer was your own voice causing ripples in the ink. “TSUNOTAROU?!” You tried again. Nothing.

Names hold power, Child of Man, do remember that. You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself for when he manifested himself here. “MALLEUS DRACONIA?!”

A bolt of lightning hit a few metres in front of you, morphing into bright green fire, and then Malleus was standing in front of you, or rather, a part of him. “You called?”  He glided easily over the ink, and looked down at you, assessing you.

“What have you done, Malleus,” you refused to tilt your head upwards, instead looking up with your eyes, head remaining level.

Malleus knelt down in front of you, despite him being vastly stronger and of higher status, he still viewed you as his equal. “I did what needed to be done.” He said it so matter of factly, like it made perfect sense. “Now everyone will be happy.”

“You can’t force people to be happy,” you said back, looking into his eyes, searching for the Malleus you knew, searching for your friend. “That’s not for you to decide, Malleus.” 

Malleus just hummed at your comment, and he tried to change your dream to something more pleasant, but you remained stuck in the ink. Why can I not change it? I should be able to change it. “They deserve to be happy… You deserve to be happy. Do you not?”

I mean, yeah it would be nice, but I would rather it be because of something other than an overblot, but ya know how it is. “Yes, but not like this… Let me help you, Malleus.”

“I do not need help,” he hissed, tilting your chin up. “Let me make you happy.” 

The ink rose, and it was now up to your neck, and you were floating in it. You spared a quick glance down and saw a gentle lilac light shining down from the bottom. This may just be a crazy idea, but it was one worth taking.

You looked back into Malleus’s eyes. “Do you promise?”

Malleus smiled at you, “Of course I do.”

You grabbed him by the arm and pulled the both of you under the surface of the ink, making your eye towards the lilac light.

…

You crawled out of the ink and found yourself, and Malleus, on the outside walls of a grand castle, roses vining their way up the facade in full bloom. Everything was in a gentle lilac light, and fireflies glowed green despite it being daytime. It was idyllic, it was peaceful, the only thing out of place being the blot that dripped off Malleus. Yet it was contained to him, disappearing into a gentle puff of green sparkles when it hit the ground.

“How,” Malleus whispered, his words now a light green, no longer a harsh neon. “How are we here?”

You didn’t know, all you did was follow the light from the bottom of the inky depths. “Do you know this place?” You had no idea where you were, but you weren’t complaining, since you were no longer up to your neck in blot.

Malleus looked up, and there was the familiar raven gargoyle from his childhood. “This is my home,” he turned to look at you curiously. “How did you bring us here, Child of Man?”

“They didn’t,” a velvety voice said. And coming down the stairs was a woman, who looked like Malleus except older, looking like she was probably in her thirties. “I did, my love.”

She gracefully walked over, and cupped his face, looking over his features. And you could have sworn that you saw her absorb some of the blot. “You have grown into a fine young man. But you have let greed overshadow you.”

Malleus looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was frozen in place. “Mother?” His voice was quiet, barely even coming out. “But how?”

The woman, Malleus’s mother, hummed gently, combing her fingers through her son’s hair, slowly absorbing the blot from him. “You can thank them,” she turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile, “all thanks to your soul match.”

She turned back to her son, her face shifting into a more solemn expression. “My love, let me bestow a gift on you… but you won’t see me again. This is the last thing I can do for you. Let me do this though; for you and everyone you love.”

You can’t force people to be happy. 

Keep everyone you love close to you, guard them, hoard them.

You’re my friend, I’ll always be with you, even if we’re far apart!

You’ll love me at once-

This was wrong, and Malleus choked on his own blot. The greed, the dark parts of the dragon had won. “Please,” he coughed. 

His mother embraced him into a hug, “Spinning wheel of fate, undo this thread of darkness. As Queen of Briar, I shall bestow upon you this gift.” She placed a kiss on his forehead, and all of the blot was gone. “I love you,” she whispered, before her form vanished gently into green and lilac sparkles.

“I’m sorry,” the words floated over to you. Malleus looked tired, exhausted. How much magic had the blot taken from him? He opened his mouth again, but closed it, at a loss for words. “And I understand if… if you want nothing to do with me.”

From your times dealing with overblot, you knew this wasn’t his fault. Overblots are due to trauma, from bottling it all up until someone broke. “Why would I not want anything to do with you? I’m still friends with the others.”

Malleus looked into your eyes, but all he found was honesty… and love, love for a friend. A genuine love. 

You extended your hand, “So come on, Tsunotarou. Let’s move forward together.”

And he took your hand. The path forward was sure to be bumpy, but he knew that you would stick by his side, even after this.

Fin!

Author's Note; And this concludes the Soul Match AU! I know in my poll people voted for a fluffy ending, but uhhh, I was possessed by a vision. I might continue this AU for other characters in the future, but for now this is where I've leave it. Thank you for reading!

Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @krenenbaker

If you like my work, please check out my masterlist [there are 9 other Soul Match works btw]

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ARLECCHINO PERUERE FATHER HEAD OF THE HOUSE OF THE HEARTH THE FOURTH FATUI HARBINGER EVERYONE SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO

✨her✨

[femmeprincessjulia]

He's so butch lesbian coded.

[b4kuch1n]

digital ink comm round 2 done! for @trucbiduleschouettes, Alis, Sygdom, A. MG, @bakugames , F. Thorell, and Grumo.

With this round I've gotten to a decent place buffer-wise and with lunar new year prep, thank you very much to everyone who's commissioned me so far! I want to figure out something for the global strike however, so I won't be reopening digital ink comms until after this week. please stay tuned for that!

[melverie]

Okay, but you guys do realize that the reason Mephisto behaves the way he does is because he has been raised with the intent of only being beneficial to the future demon king and nothing else, right?

(Buckle up because this is going to be a loooonnngggg post)

Mephisto comes from a family that has been serving the royal family for ages. He mentions multiple times that his family has always acted as their knights, their advisors and their protectors to them, and it won't be any different with him. It shouldn't be any different with him. Being beneficial to Diavolo has literally been decided to be the very meaning of his life even before he was born. He's been forced into the role and he's following it to a T because he's never known anything else, and because he can't afford to lose that. Without it, what else is left of him? What worth does he hold other than being essentially a tool for Diavolo?

And then the brothers fall and suddenly his position is at risk. Lucifer and Diavolo have already gotten along fairly well back when Lucifer was still an angel. Both Diavolo and Lucifer (as well as several others) mention that they go way back in their Nightbringer homescreen dialogues, and we see them having mutual respect by the end of the 'The Glory Days' Devilgram in the original game. Mephisto and Diavolo meanwhile might be childhood friends, but here's the thing

Diavolo wants a friend. A real friend. Someone that genuinely appreciates him for who he is as a person instead of focusing on his status as the future demon king. And that's something Lucifer can give him. They often hang out for the sake of it (apparently even eating dinner at Ristorante Six together regularly), they regularly engage in lighthearted banter, and Lucifer isn't afraid to give Diavolo his honest opinion

But that's not really the case with Mephisto...? He was never meant to be on equal footing with Diavolo; Diavolo even calls him "mini-Barbatos" at one point. He is literally still calling him 'Lord Diavolo' all the time, requests to speak his honest opinion first and waits for Diavolo to allow him to do so before actually giving it. That's why Mephisto keeps pushing down his own feelings and keeps showering Diavolo in praise any opportunity he gets while he adjusts every aspect of life to be beneficial to Diavolo in a way. Sure, he might be popular, but as long as Diavolo doesn't want him to get married he doesn't even waste a thought about relationships. He might have no real interest in journalism, but of course he'll take over RAD's Newspaper Club. After all, Diavolo asked him to! He's part of the House of Lords because as the future king's right-hand man that just makes sense. He was always just meant to be a tool for the crown prince to use, so he doesn't know how to treat Diavolo as anything but. He was literally groomed to be dispensable, so he's obviously going to act like it

And that's also where Mephisto's dislike for Lucifer stems from—he can only watch as Lucifer slowly grows closer and closer to Diavolo, and threatens to take the role that was always made up to be his. And so Mephisto keeps challenging Lucifer over and over again, trying to sabotage their friendship any way he can in hopes of winning back his position as the crown prince's right-hand man

That obviously doesn't make the way he treats Lucifer (and the rest of the brothers!) right. Lucifer isn't responsible for any of this, and blaming him for it is misguided. But it still doesn't change the fact that Mephisto has the right to be hurt at the situation at hand. His entire purpose of existence is just being ripped away from him right before his eyes and all he can do is watch. That must hurt. Especially when your entire familiy's purpose has been to serve the royal family, and you are the first one to lose that

Also, I feel like something else we need to talk about is how his fight only ever really seems to be with the brothers, especially Lucifer? Again, part of the reason is the entire Diavolo situation, sure, but I feel like it also has to do with the situation in the Devildom at large? I already vaguely talked about this in a different context a few months back, but ever since the brothers have been cast out of the Celestial Realm and arrived in the Devildom, the entire situation has just been super unstable. We as a player have a unique perspective on the events because we only have a limited outsider view to on the actual politics going on the the Devildom, while also being aware how things will play out in the future. We know that ultimately letting the brothers stay is the right choice, but that's not the way a regular denizen who has to live through all this sees it. I mean, just the way Mephisto describes the brothers really puts things into perspective:

The entire realm is super destabilized, they just semi-lost their current king, and there have been multiple very real threats of war—first when the Devildom took the brothers in in the first place, then when "Raphael" showed up and told the brothers to return, and Lucifer rightfully points out to (a comatose) MC that they are bound to go to war should the Celestial Realm ever find out that Diavolo turned Lilith into a human. There's just a lot of tension in the air, and the brothers—extremly powerful as both angels and demons—seem to be at the root of most of it in one way or another. From a the House of Lords' perspective, it makes sense to want the brothers gone, same goes for a denizens perspective. And while it is a delicate situation all around that can't just be blamed on the brothers, it makes sense for Mephisto to also see them at the center of it all. Again, that doesn't make the brothers' treatment right, but it's at least understandable given the circumstances

On a side note, when discussing his beliefs, I think it's also important to remember that he to this day is incredibly sheltered. He just accepts all this as normal because to him it is normal, but as we've seen in lesson 31 hard mode Thirteen was so shocked by his views that she immediately decided to drop everything and play therapist for him (absolute Queen for not just blaming it on him btw 💖). I know this was just a throw-away line, but this paired with him basically excisting to serve Diavolo already says so much about his character:

And with everyone else he seems to be generally pleasent? I mean, he says he doesn't want anything to do with angels or humans, and yet he risks getting injured in order to save Luke from falling. Yet he actively seeks out MC to solve one of the 666 Mysteries of RAD together with them, and saves them from tumbling on the floor because "anyone else would have done the same" (they wouldn't have. The season 1 brothers would have laughed straight in MC's face). He literally complained to Thirteen about how he was just about to go home and how he doesn't have time for her, yet diligently carries all her things for her as rain is pouring down on him. His actions always end up betraying his words

Also he has a massive sweet tooth which alings perfectly with one of the headcanons I had for months and is RAD's local horse girl so we stan! <3

-> more character & relationship analyses -> masterlist

[becca-e-barnes]

Not to be too filthy but the thought of dbf!bucky warning you that he's not going to pull out?? 🤤

I've been thinking about this a lot today and I really like imagining the way he'd position you however he wants you. He doesn't tell you what he wants you to do, he just guides you instead.

Because I love the thought of him pressing gently on your shoulders while he's kissing you, urging you to sink to your knees for him. You take the hint, opening your mouth while watching him undo his belt but he swears he might lose it when you press your tongue over your bottom lip.

"Good girl." He tries not to sound too breathless when he presses his slick tip to your lips, letting you taste his precum, smearing it over your waiting tongue. It's not long before you're eagerly taking all of him, sucking and licking and enjoying the weight of him in your mouth. You feel the tip press to the back of your throat and you do your very best to remember to breathe, trying to ignore your own growing arousal.

The hand on the back of your head keeps you in place while he thrusts in and out of your mouth and it's nice to just let him take for a little while. When you need to, you can press back against his hand and give yourself a break but the praise he showers you with makes it's hard to focus on anything other than the throbbing between your own legs.

"Fuck, look at you." He groans, applying a little more pressure to the back of your head and you try to stifle your gag reflex when he nudges the back of your throat once more. "Such a perfect mouth. Feels like you were made for this, weren't you, baby? You take me like such a good girl."

God, you want to agree. Something about being his good girl leaves your panties soaked and your body desperate. He treats you right. He cares about more than just your pleasure; he cares about how you're feeling, inside and outside of the bedroom. He's good to you and that simple fact makes the sex even better.

Before too long, he's pulled back from your mouth and he's holding your chin gently, encouraging you to stand up again before he presses you back onto the bed.

You whimper quietly at the feeling of his thick fingers grazing the little soaked lace panties you're wearing before he takes them off and lets them drop to the floor.

"Please." You gasp, letting your fingers drift over your soaked sex with an urgency that surprises your partner. Bucky watches as two of your own fingers slip into your cunt before you trail them up to circle your clit. He doesn't miss how they glisten, coated in evidence of your overwhelming arousal.

Relief floods you when you feel him press his tip to your entrance, letting him sink slowly into you. Nothing compares to the feeling of that first glide into your body. It's intimate but it's downright filthy at the same time.

"Best fucking girl for me." Bucky groans the words between kisses to your neck, slowly pulling out before pressing back where he belongs.

You can only whimper, fingernails digging into his back, forever urging him to fuck you harder.

"I hope you know I'm not pulling out tonight." The words make your cunt flutter with excitement and you almost wonder if he can feel it. "Feels too good. I'm going to stuff this pretty pussy full." He cradles your face in one hand, his eyes locked on yours and you're acutely aware that there's nothing you want to feel more than the gush of his cum into your body.

[constantwarriorblogs-blog]

This is something I thought of today

Someone made this mod for Sonic Adventure 2 and it's one I've thought about installing when I'm able to play the game again.

I also play the chao garden a lot and thought about having this mod active while visiting it and now I can't stop imagining Nine finding or starting a chao garden and unintentionally becoming a chao dad.

Or he finds one trying to get the cocoanuts off the palm trees and he has no idea how the Chao got there given the current state of The Grim and now he just has a random Chao to take care of

I can see him (reluctantly) raising this Chao while telling himself "it's for research" and planning to send it back to whatever shatter space it came from, only to get attached to it and refusing to let it go.

[cryptiduni]

“white mourning.”

[deoidesign]

.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Did a quick doodle to cope with the fact that my cousin's cat screwed up a hand-made gift I was almost done with, so have some hurt comfort with sun and yn ig

I might take a time to make a proper yn design later