#don’t say shit about his antlers? horns?

[idl3lane]

here’s a quick doodle of moros from hades 2 I will not finish this lol had fun doing this lil thing

[ask-carmenpondiego]

Chapter 6: Two Pones walk into a bar and end up at the Black Market

When Carmen caught up with Marehem, he was pressing buttons on an old timey cigarette vending machine, seeing if there were any left. He jostles it a moment as she stammers gingerly, “H-Heeey. Um. L-Look, I’m sorry. I know how it looks and I realize I was in the wrong back there. I wasn’t in my right mind. I did get most of the information I needed to possibly figure out the next step-“ her eyes went wide as he glared at her darkly and effortlessly tore open the machine like a cardboard pasta box with his tentacles, metal screeching and creaking. He procured about two packs, leaving the menthols. She cleared her throat and tried to speak, but he continued to stare at her, noisily crinkling the wrapper open and placing the other pack in his jacket pocket, “As I was saying.. I could still use your help. And I could still help you. We can head to the medical examiner office or something next if you want. How does that sound?” He stalks close to her enough to make her back up against a shadowed wall, she shakily hold out her hand “D-deal?” He grips hers tightly enough she yelped out, he leaned close to her ear and growled, “If I even catch you with that fucking drug again, the deal is off and I will devour your bones in the most painful way and will keep you alive enough to watch.” She steeled herself and gulped, “Fair. But if you work for me, there will be no more killing or slaughter while on my jobs. Got it? Slight dismemberment, ok, but not life threatening.” He leans back still holding her hand, snarling, “What? Thats like limiting me to breaking fingers! Fuck off.” She frowned at him, squeezing his hand this time, “If you dont, I walk away with the closest lead you have on getting the closure you want.” He growls in frustration and slams his fist against the wall by her head.

Carmen yelped as they both fall through the shadow, she falls onto wet asphalt as he casually strides towards a bar across the city street, his wings and tentacles tucked back in unseen. Her hat had fallen beside her as she got up, wiping off the dirt and wetness, she picked up her hat and hurried to follow him, rolling it up and storing it in her pack. M was already at the bar, shooting back a couple shots as she peeked into the door. She sat next to him and ordered a glass of moscato. “I didn’t think you were a shots kind of guy.” She quipped, sipping her wine. “I ain’t. This shits water to me. I’d like to think it does somethin but it never does.” He gruffly slams down the shotglass upside down. “So you can’t get drunk? Are all changelings like that?-ow!” He shushed her and kicked her leg. He looked her in the eye and showed he had normal looking bright green eyes and the lack of any horn or antler at all. Even his tail was looking like a short tuft of orange. His clothes had changed to more of a pale navy business suit. He still had the bandages, she noticed. “You got yourself a ladyfriend finally, M?” The bartender chuckled, polishing a glass with a towel. “Neh, just the bro’s ball and chain. You know, family affairs.” He knocked back another shot, as Carmen waved shyly. Bartender looked at her, “You look familiar, have you been on the news?” She laughed nervously, “Me? Psh! No. I..just got back from a costume party, villain themed! I’m just a little housewife, taking care of two little youngsters. They.. are with a foalsitter right now.” The bartender nodded, “Yeah, that alone time is pretty scarce with kids. Let me know if you need a refill.” She smiled and sipped more wine. She leans closer to M, “They know you here?” He swishes a shotglass a moment, “Yeah the guys from the office come here after work, I moonlight as an insurance agent for AllStable, but to be honest, I’m the breadwinner. I make them the most profit by making accidents happen. Hence all the plasters.” He motions to his face. “They don’t ask how I do it, and I don’t disclose trade secrets to them. But it helps keep cash in my pocket because without a body, neither of us can claim fuckin any inheritance from Wally.” She stops mid sip, “They what? Can they do that? Not that I’m interested in it but I still have bills to pay.” M shakes his head. “Not with Wally’s will. Theres an airtight clause where a body needs to be produced in order for the will to be released. Its a Wander Society thing. And your bills got covered automatically when they took you away. You literally have nothing in your name anymore. That will and the law screwed us both over.” Her shoulder sank a little as she finishes her glass, ordering another. She truly didnt care about the money but the fact she had lost their home and any other possessions they owned. She didn’t even get to keep her wallet with the family pictures inside. “Wally didnt send you any pictures of us, did he?” M raised an eyebrow, “Actually he sent several. Literal perfect dad bragging about his family. Why?” Carmen thanked the bartender for the refill and traced her finger along the top. “I don’t have any photos of them anymore. I need to get a new phone first but if you’d be so kind as to share those pictures with me, I’d be eternally grateful.” He sighed and rummaged through his pockets for his phone with a cracked screen. He pulled up the pictures and slid the phone over the bartop to her. “Here, we’ll get you a phone in the mornin. But at least you can go through the pictures.” She picks up the phone and chuckles, tears welling up in her eyes. For a few moments it felt like everything was how it was before, reliving every moment she saw captured. She sniffled and closed the screen, she set the phone down and took her glasses off to wipe her eyes. “Thank you, Marehem. I really needed that.” He sighed and wrapped an arm around her quivering shoulders. “No prob. As insufferable as he was to me, I miss him too.”

He slapped down a couple bills on the counter and stood up, finishing the last shot and the last bit of her wine. “Come on, we need to get shit done tomorrow and we need some shut-eye.”

They exit the bar and start walking down the sidewalk, for a while they were both silent. “M, if you’re a changeling, where are your…holes? If you don’t mind me asking.” M chuckled and pushed up a sleeve, showing the changeling holes and fills them in again making his arm look whole. “They’re there, I just don’t like the look of them. Too much debris gets in them. So I got rid of them.” She adjusts her pack and puts her hands in her pants pockets. “Did Wally look like you without his Earth pony guise?” He scoffed, “Naw, he looked like that Thorax guy, only pastel blues and greens.” He flipped through his phone and pulled up some really old looking photos, showing Carmen. “Oh wow, he looks so different.” He shrugged, putting his phone away, “He never liked it. Thats why he shifted to the Earth pony shape. He felt more like himself like that.” She nodded, “I can see that, I’m glad I knew him as the form he felt more comfortable in.” They fell silent once again as they walked.

There was some muffled pulsing music coming from an upcoming candy shop and Carmen perked up. “Oh hey, Its the Sweet Spot. I know this place. My sister owns it.” M grimaces, “The candy store? Ugh. Too much sugar, makes my teeth hurt from here.” She playfully punches his arm, “No, she owns the candy shop during the day, but the rave club is open right now. Plus if she’s there tonight, we can ask her for a new phone, she has special ones that are undetectable by law enforcement… she runs a black market enterprise behind the rave club. I say check it out. I could get most of my personal documents copied too.”

They head in and asked the bouncer for entry, Carmen shifted her hip and flashed her cutiemark. The bouncer opened the rope for them and the descended down to the basement which opened up to a huge room with neon lasers, smoke machines and booming electro music, filled with all sorts of beings dancing and enjoying themselves. There was a short bright teal pony with neon pink, purple and yellow cyberdreads, dressed in an orange and black cyber punk skirt complete with spiked goggles and gasmask, gloves, fuzzy leg-warmers and glow bracelets adorned her limbs. As they approached, the short mare squealed in delight and ran over, hugging Carmen with the biggest bearhug the little pony could muster.

“Oh my stars!! Bella!! You came back! Ohmahgah, you need to tell me where you went!! Wait! Not here, lets go to a booth!” The hyperactive mare pulled them over to a much quieter corner of the club. “Bella?” M raised an eyebrow. “Its part of my middle name, Isabella. She’s the only one to call me that other than if I make reservations incognito.” Carmen explained. The cyberpunk mare reached for Carmen hands excitedly, “Bella I was so worried when I saw the news of the museum! And then the social medias were all over your arrest! I’m glad to see you havent changed! No one can hold you down, you’re like a slippery eel!” Carmen chuckled, “Well thats why I’m here. Sugar, Wally’s gone and I need my papers and a new phone. I need to go back to before I hung up my hat.” The mare, Sugar Pop, gasped, “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry, he was so good for you, I cant believe it. Was he one of the missing from the fire?? Oh gosh.. he was such a nice fella.. total opposite of tall dark and buggy over here. Whats your name?”

M, who had not changed from his earth pony shape at all, looked at her with surprise, “Wha-me?” Sugar crossed her arms, “No, the teddy bear behind you. Yes you! You’re the only changeling in the booth here. Whats ya name?” M let slip his eye shift and growled, “First of all, how did you-“ He stopped mid sentence when he heard the loud clacking sound of an aerosol can being shaken up. Sugar had a rather large can of bug spray in her hand, not looking amused. “Marehem. Brother of Wally.” He watched her put away the can as he answered. “Now, was that so hard? Your brother would have been the first to introduce himself. Such a charmer! You could’ve learned a lot from him.” She called over one of the waiters and whispered something to him. “Your papers and phone will be up shortly, as always its on the house!”

The two mares spent the next ten minutes catching up on what happened after the fire. M sulked and browsed on his phone in a bored manner. Soon a waiter came around with a tray with a big yellow document envelope, a new unopened cellphone and a small sleek metal case. Sugar Pop took these from the tray and placed them on the table, sliding each over one at a time. “Alright, here’s your papers, phone and a gift from me. Two matching mini pistols, copper and gold inlay, I call these the pennies, so if you ever need to, you can give someone your two cents.. if you catch my drift.” She opens the case to show off a small pair of beautiful and shiny pistols with a line of twelve bullets lined in the case. Carmen smiled and gave a small uneasy face, gingerly closing the case and pushing it back. “I can’t accept this, I’m not a gun person. They make me very uneasy.” Sugar Pop shushes her and pushes it back to Carmen, “Bella, just take the guns. You dont have to use them. Just keep them in a safe or lockbox. Its for a little backup if nothing else. I need you to be safe.” Carmen sighs, nodding her head towards M, “Technically I have back-up. He has a penchant for dismemberment.” M looks up, “I’m what now?” Sugar Pop scoffs, “And if he’s out takin a piss and leaves you alone, then what? You need a back up. Trust me. The world isnt like it used to be back in your big heisting days. You gotta be more careful.”

Carmen rolls her eyes, “You’re like Ma, I get it. I promise I’ll be safe. If you want, I’ll do tiny heists like no returning library books.” Sugar Pop nodded, “Those fees can get pretty pricey.. but no, that isnt any fun! Go out, live a little!! You got a chance to do it again! You did get the kids set up at a safe house, right?”

Carmen nodded, “Yes, I made sure that Adora is being looked after by the Warehouse Curators and Blendin is being looked after by the Great Library. Those are the safest places I know where they can grow up and learn the right things.” M tilts his head, “You put them there? I mean, I never took them as the babysitter types.” Carmen shrugged, “They owed us a favor. And Wally and I agreed that if need be, that would be the favor we would request. No conditions nor questions asked. I promised I would come back for them.” Her sister nodded, “As any parent would. But right now you can afford to take some time for yourself. For a thief, you aren’t very selfish of your own self care.” Carmen looked at Marehem and they both shrugged, “I suppose we can postpone plans for a little bit, get things back up and running. Say.. you don’t happen to have any spare beachfront properties, do you?”

The neon raverpunk mare smiled.

[stabbitrabbit]

i’m finally gonna be annoying and talk about my poppy playtime/smiling critters oc bc i’ve been thinking abt them a lot (no art bc i can’t draw for shit)

in the cartoon her name is doedance, and as her name indicates, she’s a deer!! she’s one of the quieter ones of the group, closest with craftycorn, bubba bubbaphant, and catnap. she is very timid and shy early-on, but once she gets to know people she opens up and becomes much more involved. she has a rivalry with hoppy hopscotch because they view exercise in two very different ways (hoppy sees exercise as fun and play and very loud, doedance sees exercise as calm and focused and deliberate). her toy’s scent is cinnamon and her charm is a music note!!

-

when bigger bodies rolled around, no child in playcare was safe. after multiple tests, the scientists decided that a 10-year old boy named dustin schaefer was the best fit for doedance. dustin was taken in for whatever fucked procedure playtime co. used, and doedance was the one who emerged. she knew nothing of how she came to be, who she used to be, nothing - only that something felt wrong.

doedance happily partook in the hour of joy. she felt vindicated, that all of the people who harmed them and warped them got what they deserved. she agreed that the prototype needed to save them from the humans, and that he did. she was more than willing to go along with the prototype…until she witnessed what was happening to her friends.

doedance could feel her own descent into madness as she witnessed the other smiling critters fall in the aftermath of the hour of joy. she could live with turning into someone harsh and impulsive, but she couldn’t bear to watch her friends suffer. she blamed the prototype; he saved them once, why couldn’t he save them again? she retreated down to playcare to find some kind of answer, and every day, that sense of wrongness grew stronger.

after being alone in playcare for so long, doedance found another critter - craftycorn, her friend! crafty seemed fine, a little flighty at most, but overall seemed mostly stable. that was, until crafty showed doedance her paintings. canvases covered in streaks of blood, old and new, and crafty had just run out of red paint. crafty attacked doedance, demanding that she hand over the “red paint” she was “hiding.” ultimately, doedance defeated crafty and killed her to save herself, but not without losing one of her hands in the fight. doedance took the time she needed to recuperate before setting off to find a place to put crafty’s body.

it was on this journey that doedance realized what that wrongness was - he wasn’t a doe after all. he never should have been a doe to begin with. he laid crafty to rest outside of playcare, but not before removing her horn and a few other fabric scraps to make himself a small set of antler nubs. he then traveled to the medical wing in home sweet home, to sew on his antler nubs and to hopefully do something about his hand. He couldn’t make a new one, but there just so happened to be an old grab-pack in the medical wing - one with an orange hand. he took it and made a vague prosthetic out of it.

-

roaming the caverns outside of playcare and beyond, the remaining toys whisper about a cloaked, shadowy figure. some say he has horns, others say he does not. they argue over whether he is a scout for the prototype, or if he is there to foil its plans. one very excited, very convinced hoppy plush claims that the shadow had a critters charm, a broken one in a vague pistol-like shape that could have been a music note.

what the toys do agree on, however, is that the cloaked creature is an incredible shot. don’t get on his bad side, or he’ll cook you with his flare gun. they call him buckshot.

[rodolfoparras]

I'm gonna make it where the outfit I drew Talia in is what he wears on more lazy days as it's not as difficult to get on. The lace shirts and such are for days he wants to look extra fancy (most days, he loves theater ofc he likes being dramatic)

He is very protective of Will even though William like doesn't care when people yell at him, he's legit too bitchy to care😭 Virgil could call him 50 different slurs (he would never, Virgil is an asshole but he's not that mean) and William would just be like🙄 "are you done throwing a tantrum now? You made us fall behind on reaping and I do not want to do overtime"

Virgil is probably one of my more toxic characters tbh, I love spoiling myself every so often by writing a pretty boy that's a piece of shit. Virgil will never accept any real help, he says he wants to get better but sabotages any attempts. The only person who can "help" him is Grell, she'll help him clean himself up, do his hair and makeup but it's not any real help. Virgil won't let her do more than repair his mask so he can go back to being his dramatic self, extravagant and joking all the time. :( as such, I'm not giving him a relationship because it'll only end in a dumpster fire

I'm honestly debating making a second demon oc :3 pretty deer demon that is loyal to Sebastian!! powerful demons can have some type of authority over less powerful demons. Deer boy doesn't really care about Sebastians power, he's just like ooh the pretty demon wants my help? :3

Than they find out he has to work for a little rich brat and regrets it. Deer boy also isn't allowed to interact with guests because he has no patience for stupidity. Someone complained that the tea he made wasn't good enough and he screamed at them to suck it up😭 I made him mostly for cool antler demon horns and the fun :3

-🌱

Oh I absolutely love that concept and it’s very practically too!!!! I mean I can’t imagine having to wear fancy smancy tight clothing with intricate details 24/7

I’m imaging William spacing out looking bored as ever or glancing at his non existent watch while he’s being cussed out😭

But I absolutely love that he has at least someone to patch him up at the end of the day or else his arc would be a little too sad 😭 like I don’t need a character to be changed just please give them a hug or something every once a while 😞

Oh I absolutely love lovestruck characters who cant find it in themselves to be terrified of a person bc they’re crushing on them 😭 it’s like a little kitty being endeared by a big dog

Well hello at least he can stand up for himself also why do I feel like he’d say that if someone were to call him out😭

[sl-walker]

Zabrak (and Nightbrother) Canon v. Fanon

Okay, so like-- fanon is viral.  It spreads fast and people new to fandom sometimes don’t bother to check to see if things are actually canon, or just someone else’s headcanon.  Which is fine, but only until such time as viral fanon gets mistaken for canon and people get obnoxious about it.

Don’t be one of those.

So, here are basic canon v. fanon facts (and easily extrapolated assumptions of facts) about zabraks (and Nightbrothers) in both current Disney canon and also in Legends.

1. Zabraks have claws, canon or fanon?

Fanon.

Despite Savage’s fingernails growing after his transformation, despite Maul’s being vastly overgrown on Lotho Minor (manicures would not be common there!), their nails definitely are nails.

No male zabrak nor Nightbrother in any canon or Legends work has long claws. Or even claws at all! They have normal fingernails just like a human.  While Savage’s grow longer (along with his horns):

They are clearly nails.  They are flat and straight and don’t come to an extreme point.  (Nice shaping, too, damn bro, your nails look way better than mine.  They’d look great with some french tips.  Also, get her ass!)

See, actual claws are built very differently from nails; both in their shape (not like Savage’s) and in their internal structures.  Claws are more often hooked, they’re rounded and -- most importantly -- if you cut them back enough, they bleed.

No zabrak nor Nightbrother in canon has hooked claws or, for that matter, even fingernails that extend past the tips of their fingers, absent those two examples.  So, one can safely assume they trim their nails (when they’re sane and not being mindraped by Nightsisters), and that this does not result in bleeding and pain.

In canon: It is not yet confirmed whether Nightbrothers are zabrak-human hybrids. In Legends: It is confirmed that Nightbrothers are, indeed, some part human.

Either way, they still don’t have actual claws.  (But if you wanna play some culture-building, you can totally have culture about them shaping their nails and painting them, etc. to mimic claws and still be canon compliant.)

2.) Zabraks purr, or are essentially just big cats, canon or fanon?

Oh god, Fanon.  Absolutely fanon.

Beyond the fact that there are actual cat-like species in Star Wars that are way more likely subjects of such speculation (zygerrians, lasats), none of these things are confirmed in canon.

But Steff, you say, didn’t Maul and Savage growl and roar and such in TCW?

Yes!  But before his transformation, every noise Savage (or any other Nightbrother) makes is one that a human can make with their vocal cords.  (I literally just checked.)  So, even though he was rough-voiced and metaphorically snarling at Ventress, grunting and making other noises of anger or stress, all of them were-- well, human sounding.  You would think, in that case, that Savage would haul out those wild ‘animalistic’ vocalizations then, wouldn’t you?  But he didn’t.

So, it’s fair to say that in both Legends and canon, the only examples we have of zabraks making any noises that humans can’t are confined to Savage, post-transformation, and it’s a more than fair argument that his transformation is what made him able to.

Not natural biology.

Speaking of Maul (voiced by Peter Serafinowicz)-- he also growls in TPM.  In Peter’s voice.  A perfectly human growl, because shit, we also do that too when we’re mad enough or worked up enough.  I do believe he also growls (and makes other noises) in Witwer’s voice, for the most part.  The only evidence of Maul growling in any way even maybe inhumanly is in TCW, after he’s been basting in the dark side for twelve years.  Also not exactly a control case.

So, again, this is fanon.  It’s very persistent fanon, I even know the author who I believe originated the whole purring thing back in 2016, but it’s so, so utterly fanon.

3.) Zabraks have true horns, canon or fanon? or 3a.) Zabraks have antlers, canon or fanon?

Debatable.

While it’s never confirmed either way, though, Savage gets some of his horns sliced right off via lightsaber, and shows no pain.

See, true horns have a hard keratin layer overtop a bony, living core:

Cutting those in this world requires sedation and local anesthetic, because that’s living tissue being cut off.  If you just sawed through, it’d bleed and open up the horn-bearer to infection.  Usually horn buds are burned out when horn-bearing species are very young, before they grow, because the bigger they are, the worse it would be to have to cut them.

So, when Savage has those overgrown horns of his and then gets a couple sliced off in battle via lightsaber, revealing nothing inside but clean, white core, it’s reasonable to assume that those aren’t horns as we know horns.

Antlers, on the other hand, grow inside velvet seasonally, lose their velvet, and then fall off entirely at the end of the season.  While they’re in velvet, surrounded by living tissue (before calcifying), they’re vulnerable to injury.  But after the velvet dries and is rubbed off, all that’s left is sharp, white bone.

My theory is that zabraks have antlers, then, but since there’s no true, hard evidence otherwise, either answer’s acceptable.  (But like, if you can’t see the potential adorableness of zabraks in velvet, I dunno what to tell you.)

4.) Zabraks have sharp teeth!  Canon or fanon?

Mostly fanon.

Eeth Koth has regular teeth:

This poor guy has regular teeth:

And Feral has regular teeth:

And-- you get the point.

They have regular, normal teeth.  Not even elongated canines.

The only evidence of otherwise comes from some (but not all) written Legends materials: That Maul (and only Maul) has sharp teeth, but also, that he filed them to be that way.

However, that’s pretty easy to ignore, because his are also straight in all visual canon.  And not pointy. (And white at least some of the time.  Like pre-TPM and in Rebels.  It’s another point in favor of him painting them as battlefield psychology, rather than this serious warrior letting his own natural weapons rot, which I believe I am the first asshole to actually write down explicitly.)

So, while there’s some evidence that at least one zabrak can have pointy teeth via filing them, they do not have pointy teeth (or even elongated canines) as a rule in canon.

5.) Nightbrothers are half-human, canon or fanon?

Fanon in canon, Canon in Legends

Current canon hasn’t established it such, but in Legends, all Nightbrothers were some part human, including Maul.

6.) Nightbrothers are born slaves.

Canon.

Literally in both current canon and Legends, Nightbrothers are born slaves to the Nightsisters.  Every Nightbrother is born a slave, included Maul.  Their enslavement is literally stated on-screen in TCW.  In Darth Plagueis the novel, which is Legends, it’s stated by Sidious that sometimes Nightbrothers are sold off of Dathomir when they were speculating why Kycina had marked Maul as a Nightbrother.

While we don’t get to see any free-roaming Nightbrothers in canon who aren’t armed with lightsabers and murderous intent, it’s pretty fair to extrapolate that their status as born slaves would be reasonable common knowledge in slaving circles.

Anyway, there’s some common fanon v. canon there to get y’all started.  I will add, very gently, that many people do view Nightbrothers as men of color.  That the argument that they can’t be because they’re *~aliens~* holds no water when we can acknowledge Ahsoka Tano as a woman of color, or Watto as a notable anti-Semitic stereotype.

So, I would really suggest that whatever canon or fanon you adhere to, you maybe keep that in mind and be respectful, any which way.

--

@jayofolympus​, @deathdovesong​

[grahamcore]

hannibal lecter is a manic pixie dream girl and before you boo me and throw tomatoes just HEAR ME OUT because he legitimately has all the makings of one based on the way he was written in the show. 

we know that manic pixie dream girls exist for the sole purpose of turning around the life of the soulful, tortured male protagonist, yes? as the story always goes, she breezes into his life, stunningly beautiful and full of idiosyncrasies and completely, unabashedly authentic—but most importantly, inexplicably obsessed with the sad little leading man. doesn’t matter if he’s a sweaty loser covered in dog hair with zero people skills and she’s a thousand times out of his league by all of society’s standards; she’s enthralled by him, and she makes it her personal mission for the remainder of the story to show him how to stop being so gloomy all the time and really live his life to the fullest.

...now contrast this with hannibal and will. will’s life in season one before meeting hannibal is, frankly, kind of miserable. that’s not to say that hannibal doesn’t go out of his way to make it more miserable, because he absolutely does, but from will’s perspective? hannibal arrives, and for the first time in a long time there’s someone who cares about him, someone who finds him interesting beyond what he can provide for them or any sort of ‘professional curiosity.’ and like every good manic pixie dream girl, hannibal is attractive and full of a million odd little idiosyncrasies (patterned three piece suits all the time for no goddamn reason, playing the harpsichord, weird ass statues and shit in his office, and yes the cannibalism okay, these are all manic pixie dream girl traits). and don’t even get me started on the way he talks because you could literally take any of his batshit crazy lines about church roofs falling down on believers or psychedelic mushroom tea and have ramona flowers say it instead and nobody would bat an eye.

but the true icing on the cake is the fact that at the core of the story, hannibal really is trying to help will “live his life to the fullest” by embracing the darkness within himself. he’s motivated by a desire to help will out of his chrysalis, to see him shed the morals he feels have been forced onto him by society and become his authentic, righteously murderous self. hannibal wants will to stop being the tortured victim of his circumstances and start taking life by the horns antlers and that is literally his driving force for all three seasons post meeting will and becoming enamored with him. 

and if you’re not on board with this half baked character study yet, google manic pixie dream girls—the top result describes them as aiming to teach their leading man to “live freely and love madly.” apply that same statement to what hannibal was attempting with will, and that shit holds up. i rest my case.

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (4)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(people seem to like this for now but remember, no reblogs/comments then i’m gonna assume people lost interest. so show u enjoy this please!! <3 also someone drew fanart of Reader, check it out at the bottom! :3c)

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“Come ON Wilbur! Come with me to check out the huge village I found the other week!” shouted Tommy while making sure to get in his older brother’s way as much as possible. He figured if Wilbur was focused on him and not whatever ‘super important’ shit he was busy with then he’d join him.

Wilbur meanwhile was doing everything he could to sidestep and ignore said younger brother. Now usually he’d humor the much younger boy but Wilbur was sorta busy at the moment. There’s been murmurs of unrest within the L’manburg territory lately since new faces have joined their country. 

Apparently they weren’t happy about the fact that Wilbur was a self appointed president, and likened him to a dictator because of it since no one got a say in his leadership role. Which Wilbur thought was highly unfair. He’d fought tooth and nail for his country, so they could have and enjoy all the freedoms to do as they pleased without Dream and his cronies breathing down their necks.

Everything he did he did for his country. But he didn’t want them to see him as some unsympathetic tyrant who didn’t listen to his people. He’s not Dream, he actually listens when they speak, even when they say they don’t like his self appointed role as president. So yes, Wilbur was sort of busy with more important things than goofing off and finding some random village. But instead of snapping he just sighed and said,

“Tommy, I’m working. We’re supposed to be running a country, remember?”

The aforementioned boy let out an aggravated sigh, he knows they have a duty to L’Manburg, he’s not stupid! But he also knows they need to be allowed to have some fun now and again too! Or they’ll go crazy! And Tommy was sure Wilbur would go mad if he stayed cooped up inside all the time working! So this was his way of dragging his brother out for his own good.

But Wilbur was being especially stubborn (wonder where Tommy got it…) and was refusing to budge. 

“I don’t have time right now Tommy! Ask Tubbo or Fundy to tag along. I’m sure they’d love to go vandalize a village with you,” Wilbur distractedly said as he wrote down some notes in one of his books. 

Tommy was tired of fighting Wilbur on this and decided to hell with it, he’d just take the L this time. So he scoffed and said “Whatever” in the most pissed off teen voice he could physically summon and turned away from Wilbur and stormed out of the brunet president’s house, making sure to slam the wooden door as hard as he could on his way out. 

It seemed like all Wilbur did was mope around and WORK since they’d won independence from the Dream SMP. What the hell was the point of even FIGHTING for said freedom if Wilbur wasn’t even going to enjoy it?? 

Tommy pushed those thoughts away and went to search out Tubbo, he could always count on his best friend to follow him into some mischief! Unlike SOME people. And thankfully it didn’t take the rambunctious blond long to find his friend, and with a grin he ran and jumped on the shorter boy, making him yelp in shock and nearly fall. But then Tubbo saw who it was and started laughing and shoving the taller boy away half heartedly. But after goofing around a bit Tommy remembers why he’d searched out Tubbo in the first place.

“Oi Tubbo, come with me to this weird village I found the other week. I was gonna explore it when I found it but Wilbur said there was an emergency and I had to leave before I could,” he said as they both walked along the main path.

“Yeah sure, but why was it ‘weird’? Was it one of those ones that’s built somewhere stupid like half on a cliff?” Tubbo asked with a laugh. 

The two laughed and Tommy explained that the village just looked different? Like there was no cobble! Which was ridiculous because in his opinion that was the best part of villages was all the cobble buildings. Not that he was biased or anything like an American. 

But Tubbo just laughed and said sure, they could go check it out. He didn’t have anything else important to do today anyways. Tommy gave a triumphant ‘yeah!!’ because at least he got ONE of his friends to not be a total loser and go out to have some good old fashioned fun with him. 

Tubbo told him to lead the way so they were off.

-0-

Many blocks away in your village you were getting out of your ‘shower’, which was really just a waterfall hidden by thick trees and hanging vines behind your temple home. But it was the best shower you’d ever used thanks to how the water fell over you in huge sheets. You’d honestly stay in it for hours if you didn’t hate being bored just standing there. But you did get bored, so you got out and began drying off.

Once you were dry you started getting dressed in your usual outfit, then once done you paused before reaching down to grab the newest item of your outfit..

Your mask.

...

After your… horn discovery the week before you’d just laid in bed all day for a couple days. Not leaving your temple for any reason, not even to shower or eat. You’d have been feeling worse if you’d actually needed food but thankfully you didn’t, so when you finally got your ass in gear and got up to bathe you only felt marginally like shit. At least you had until you went to go bathe…...

But on that first day up you’d just stared at yourself in the reflection of the water and sighed. You didn’t have the urge to cry anymore, so that was a good thing. But you also weren’t a fan of the new horns or glowing eyes you’d had since ending up here. You weren’t even sure what KIND of horns these were?? And… call you crazy but you SWEAR they were bigger than they were before your stint laying in bed..

They’d only been little nubs before, not even as big as your thumb! But now they were at least five inches long and sort of splitting at the tips? It looked weird and honestly felt even weirder what with that velvety texture covering them. You made the foolish mistake of grumbling to yourself, 

“Things couldn’t get weirder, right?”

And as if the universe heard you… you discovered a new ‘appendage’ on your body while you started to wash your body off. You’d been lost in thought, just scrubbing yourself with a soapy washcloth when you’d started reaching around to wash your back, your washcloth brushed against something protruding from the base of your spine, right above your ass. This time you didn’t start panicking, you think you were still worn out from the days previous, so instead of freaking out you just slowly craned your neck around to see if you could glimpse the...thing.

A tail. 

You blinked, shocked but also.. confused? What in the absolute fuck? Why? When?? This time there was no sobbing or breakdown, you were honestly just puzzled. Are you ever going to STOP growing animal traits or what? Under any other circumstances you might even call the tail cute. It was small, probably just smaller than your hand and about the same shape too. And the majority of the top of it was the same color as your hair, but the sides (and underside after you got curious enough to look under it) were a soft white. With how you were in water the tail looked rather unimpressive and you couldn’t identify what kind of tail it was, but if it was at all connected to the horns then maybe deer? Or caribou? Reindeer? The last two seemed more likely since those animals’ females actually grew antlers you think. 

Having to adjust to all this new shit practically every other day was giving you a headache. With a tired sigh you rubbed the area around the base of your antlers, soothed slightly by how the action dulled your headache. But you couldn’t ignore the issue at hand, so you swallowed down your unease and instead just decided since you couldn’t control these… unnatural features then.. well, you’d just cover them up or since that wasn’t possible for the horns now you’d just disguise them?

You’d been stumped for a while on how to even DO that but eventually you’d gone down to the village to feed the animals and you’d watched the armorer leave his house to get started working for the day. And you’d noticed the mask he wore pushed up on his forehead. That’s when the idea for a mask hit you. But you didn’t know how to make or even craft a mask, so you’d gone to the armorer and asked him about it. It was hard to grasp what he was saying clearly but after the months living with the villagers you’d picked up some stuff and could understand them some.

So you let him show you how to make a standard iron mask like his, though the first one he’d made hadn’t fit you in the end so he’d made a second after tweaking the size a bit so it’d fit your face right, since your face shapes weren’t the same. But you were thankful and said so after you put it on. Though the eye holes still revealed your eyes, which you didn’t like. You asked how hard it would be to put reflective lenses in them to prevent your eyes from being seen.

That question turned into the armorer calling over the cartographer, the stonemason, and the shepherd oddly enough to help him out. They were murmuring and crowding around the armorer’s workstation while you watched from the edge of the porch where you sat idly. You didn’t want to hover over them like some busybody, so you sat patiently to see what they came up with together. 

And after a while your patience was rewarded when they came over to show you the fruit of their collaboration. And it surprised you how gorgeous it was, which wasn’t fair since you had 4 skill masters working on it together for you.

The mask was actually very beautiful. 

It was a white half mask that only covered your eyes, forehead, and upper nose/cheeks but left the lower half of your face bare. And you think it was simply painted white because it felt about as heavy as iron, but the part that amazed you was how it almost looked Venetian in design. On the forehead of the mask was a golden sun, and golden floral swirls came from the corners of the mask and curled near the cheeks and sides of the sun on the forehead, making the mask look elegant and almost vintage.

But the best parts in your opinion were the glass lenses in the eye holes. They were reflective and the same colors as your banner! You don’t know how the villagers did it but the edges of the lens were a goldish orange and the color faded into a violet in the center. You worried you wouldn’t be able to see through them but when you put the mask on you realized the lens only gave things a VERY slight blue/grey tint. So slight in fact that you could fully ignore it if you wanted. 

And the second best part was some of the floral swirls actually swirled UP past the top edge of the mask and rested against your horns, giving the illusion that they were somehow part of the mask. Actually with the mask on you could almost trick yourself into thinking you were just wearing a cool looking Mardi Gras mask! 

You clapped your hands in glee and couldn’t help the excited sound you let out as you gushed and told them it was perfect! They all let out bashful happy murmurs and generally looked shyly pleased with your praise. You tried to give them each some emeralds but they refused to take them, grunting and shaking their heads each time you attempted to push the gems towards them. Eventually you gave up and resigned to accepting the mask as a gift, but you’d definitely do something nice for them later, to make up for their hard work.

…

You’d taken to wearing the mask at all times when not in the privacy of your temple. Which wasn’t very hard to get accustomed to. The mask was lightweight and the lenses honestly helped shield your eyes from the glare of the sun so win/win. And it also made your horns, in your opinion at least, less in your face. Which was good because they were definitely still growing. You could tell. And the split in the tip was now more pronounced, making you wonder if they were like… reindeer antlers? It would fit with the tail currently growing out the base of your spine, said tail that now looked REALLY like a fluffy little deer tail since the hair/fur on it had dried. 

One good thing was that your tail wasn’t long or huge and could actually be hidden relatively easily under a shawl you tied around your waist. So that was one less thing to worry about. Though your life would infinitely be easier if you didn’t have to deal with all this inhuman bullshit. But you supposed life wasn’t fair and expecting it to be was foolish. 

“At least I’m not part some weird animal like an aardvark or something…” you mumble to yourself, trying to view this whole thing in a ‘glass half full’ sort of way. 

You’d decided to relax and unwind from your recent discovery by just taking things easy for a while. First day since you got the mask and such you just chilled and started a small farm for yourself. You didn’t need the food but the process of building the farm and toiling the earth and then sowing the seeds was actually pretty therapeutic. The repetition of it all was pretty calming. Just you, your gardening tools, and the earth beneath your feet.

The days following were pretty much the same. You’d tend your garden first thing in the morning after your shower, then you’d go off to find something else easy to fill your time. You took up feeding the animals, making flower boxes and planters around the town to make it more colorful, potion brewing, and even fishing. Which was what you were doing right now actually.

You were sitting on the edge of the pond next to your temple, bare legs in the cool water and your back resting against the side of another grass block, an enchanted fishing rod you’d traded the town fisherman for sitting stuck in the ground next to you while you relaxed. The day was actually quite beautiful and nice. Sun streamed down over you from between the bamboo behind you, fluffy fat bees buzzed overhead as they hunted lazily for pollen, and you were close to dozing off.

“Hnn! Hnn! Hnnn!!”

At least you would have dozed off if you hadn’t heard one of the villagers sorta freaking out. You looked up and saw one of the farmers panickedly shuffling about at the top of the small hill to your left. You wondered if zombies got into the village again? But no it was sunny out, they’d be burning if they did. Illagers maybe? But how would they have gotten around the bamboo and prickly berry bushes?? Well there wasn’t anything else for you to do than do see what was wrong.

You put away your fishing rod, got up and dusted yourself off before hurrying up the hill after the villager. You trailed after them down the lantern lit path but so far didn’t see anything, but you perked up when you heard telltale sounds of one of the iron golems fighting something and taking damage. That put some urgency in your gait and soon you were running to see what was going on. You rush past the fletcher’s home and then the cartographer’s right after but nothing. Then you finally round the corner where the market is set up and see at the very end of the path next to the cleric’s church is the altercation. 

You sprint down the path, yelling for the villager’s to stay inside until you ring the town bell as you run past them. You hear the doors slam closed behind you and you manage to get to the problem right as your iron golem gives one last cry before getting poofed. You gasp sadly and then glare when you hear cheering. A blond boy that was shorter than you hopped down from a dirt block tower and scooped up the fallen iron ingots the poor iron golem dropped upon its death.

You were so pissed that you ignored the nagging feeling in the back of your focus that said this kid looked familiar. It wasn’t until he finally turned to look at you that it hit you. Holy shit this kid looked… and sounded.. like that minecraft youtuber, TommyInnit.. Like eerily so. You’re glad you’re wearing your mask so he can’t see the deer in headlights (*ba-dun-ts*) look on your face at the sight of him. And your shock didn’t fade with him speaking. If anything it reinforced the idea that this kid was weirdly reminiscent of that youtuber. 

“Holy fuck! You are a MASSIVE woman. Wait, who the fuck are you?!” he said in a loud tone of voice as he looked up at you. It made your eyebrows furrow. You were NOT that big! He was just short! You even crossed your arms and told him so, which earned a snicker from the little brown haired boy in dark green overalls next to him. The blond boy scoffed, looked fully offended, snarked back that you were about the same height as a ‘bloody fuckin’ iron golem!’ so yes you were huge.

You glared at the little TommyInnit look alike and instead of arguing about your height you started scolding both boys, which they hadn’t really.. expected? At least from the surprised looks on their faces (which still had the roundness that came from baby fat). The brunet rubbed his elbow and sort of toed the dirt under his feet while the blond crossed his arms and almost looked to be pouting from the scolding.

“My height isn’t the issue here! The issue is you two barging into my village, killing one of my iron golems, stealing the loot from it, and scaring my poor villagers!! What in the hell were you two thinking?” 

The blond tried to cut in, to defend himself but he barely got out the first syllable before you held up your hand to signal for him to silence himself as you snapped,

“I do NOT wanna hear it! You treat others this way?? Like they’re nothing, like their possessions and peace of mind don’t mean a damn thing?! Shame on you both!!” 

By the end the two boys looked properly scolded. The brunet wondered if THIS is what it felt like to get scolded by one’s mother, and if it was then he’d like to avoid it for the remainder of his life. And the blond meanwhile actually didn’t have anything to say, or more accurately he didn’t know what to say to not feel like he was in massive trouble.

You meanwhile were just annoyed at this point, so you held you hand out (causing both boys to give you wondering looks) before you demanded the iron ingots that the blond stole from your slain iron golem. He got all in a huff, saying he earned them and they were just ingots- but you slapped that train of thought down with an angry,

“EARNED?? More like STOLE! After you killed my iron golem! Now give them back! I have to use them to make a new golem to protect this village.”

The blond sputtered, face blooming red at being blatantly called out on his theft, before muttering in embarrassment and pulling the ingots out and practically tossing them at you. You caught them and returned them to your inventory before shaking your head at the two and saying they should leave if their only goal in your village was to kill and destroy property. The small brunet quickly spoke up and said,

“No wait, we didn’t come just to mess stuff up! We came cuz Tommy said he found this place last week and it wasn’t the usual village so we wanted to explore it.”

Your stomach churned at the name.. Tommy. This was getting weird again. Way too fucking weird. But you resisted clenching your teeth anxiously like you wanted, instead you raised an eyebrow they couldn’t see and shot back,

“Oh yeah? And how did that escalate into killing my iron golem?”

This time it was ‘Tommy’ who cut in and said it had been an accident! They’d apparently been looking around when Tubbo (you felt queasy now after hearing that name too…) started fighting a spider and Tommy came over to help him, but in the process he accidentally hit the iron golem, who got pissed and smacked him.

“I ran from the thing and towered up three blocks! I knew it wouldn’t let up so I had to kill it! S’not my fault the bastard was holding a grudge!!” Tommy said heatedly, arms still crossed defiantly.

You wanted to rub your temples in exasperation but couldn’t without removing your mask. And like hell you were showing these kids your weirdo inhuman eyes. Though… if they really were the characters from.. the videos you got hooked on? Honestly this whole thing was 10 times weirder than the stupid glowy eyes or even the horns or tail.. Like this has to be proof you’re really dreaming or in a coma or something. What other logical explanation could there BE? These kids aren’t real. Nothing here is. It CAN’T be. The real people behind these… minecraft characters? They’re not here. In this place.

Before you could do a kickflip off the edge of your sanity into a full on mental breakdown you took in a calming breath and pushed those thoughts away until you were alone to give it the proper attention. And maybe so you could have your panic attack in peace and quiet. But right now you had two kids causing ruckus in your village. So you just said,

“Yeah alright, fine. I’ll forgive you both THIS TIME. But don’t make a habit of causing trouble in my village. And you can look around and explore, just don’t steal anything or hurt any of my villagers or animals. Got it?”

The two boys nodded, happy to not have you giving them that Angry Adult Tone anymore. So you turned and started walking back to the middle of the village, calling for them to come on. You had to ring the village center bell to tell everyone everything was okay.

Both boys shared a glance before Tubbo smiled and started jogging after you, Tommy right behind him, both curious about you and your village.

------------

(a/n: YOOO SOMEONE DREW READER FANART AND IT’S FUCKING BOMB DUDES CHECK IT OUT!!  (Reader looking heavenly~) uwu)

@salinesoot​ @lady-bee-fechin​ @kacchasu​ @putridjoy​ @lunawritesstories​ @galaxypankitty3030​ ​ @paradigmax​ @zachariethememerie​ @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles​ @nikkineeky​ @artsimatsu​​

[lady-z-writes]

What Lies Beneath - Chapter 1 (Heisenberg x Reader) (Heisenberg x OC)

Posting this here too! Feel free to subscribe on AO3.

Chapter 1 is up of my new Heisenberg/reader (Heisenberg/OC) story.

Summary: A trip to a neighboring village introduces Heisenberg to Reader – a Cadou experiment that didn’t quite meet Miranda’s standards. Reader was told to stay away from the Lords – as her powers will only make them weaker – but there’s something alluring about this rugged man, especially when he’s between her thighs.

Boot stomps sound through the halls of the church, their echoes drown out by the yelling in the lobby. Heisenberg lights a cigar as he shoves through the doors, returning to the brisk winter air.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” he mutters, stomping through the snow.

Every ‘family’ meeting is rough, each one getting harder to hide his disdain for his ‘mother.’ But today…especially today, given the timing of things.

Heisenberg doesn’t remember much about his childhood before Miranda, but he remembers that trip his dad took him on – it was around this time of year. It was a time when his dad could break away from the factory, trek through the mountains until they hit a nearby village where they spent some time fishing. That’s all he remembers…some big snowstorm, a collapsing snowdrift almost taking them out, and fishing. Other than that, it’s all blank.

Days like this make it impossible to get passed that resentment he feels toward Miranda. Snowy weather leaves him wondering just how many fishing trips his dad planned to take him on before he was killed, before his son was experimented on, before the whole village went to shit thanks to that bitch.

The cold air and the cigar should make his lungs ache, but he’s so used to it by now. Coat billowing around him, he makes a rash decision and takes a right toward the southernmost mountains.

It isn’t often that he can sneak away from the ‘family’ without anyone knowing. He’d only been away for a while once and thankfully Moreau covered for him when they questioned his absence. If Moreau actually thought he was with him is another question entirely.

The one trip he took led him to the wrong place – no village in sight and by the time he arrived back, it was too late to try another path before the questioning began from his ‘family.’

'Where were you?’

'Why did you miss a meeting?’

'Mother is pissed.’

'Did you get lost in that factory?’

This time around, he had a better plan: got ahold of some old maps left behind in the village, plotted out his path and where his assumption was for the other village, waited until the opportune moment to leave town for a bit. And the opportune moment was directly after a meeting.

He didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he found it. Surely there’s no father to go fishing with so what’s the point?

The point is that he shouldn’t be confined to this stupid village, shouldn’t be one of Miranda’s toys, should be finite and human – not a monster. The point is that he’s chasing something and that probably says a lot about him and needs unburied, but now is not the time for self-counseling.

The climb through the mountains is exhausting, even for him, but he keeps pushing through just in case he ends up empty again, in case the village doesn’t exist in this area either.

The journey makes him start to doubt again, like he’s done so many nights before: maybe this isn’t his memory, but something else entirely. Maybe this was just a story he was told as a child; one that his young imagination ran wild with. Maybe…

A few hours into the journey, several cigars later, frozen limbs, and a sopping wet jacket, and he spots it: several rooftops through the clearing. He lets out a huff then a laugh as his feet carry him forward.

So, it did exist…this whole time…

Thought leaves him as soon as he hears a growl in the distance. Hammer at the ready, he doesn’t even have time to attack when he’s knocked off his feet by something he can only describe as Lycan-adjacent.

The antlers are what get him – stab at his neck before he swings his hammer to knock it off. And then he’s running – dodging trees because, oh fuck, that thing got right back up.

The village comes into view quickly after a few more run-ins with this antler-beast. It charges him again only for him to dodge, grab it by the antlers, and snap them like a wishbone. Blood pools as he slowly backs away, watching the dying thing twitch in the snow.

Sauntering on, he swings his hammer back over his shoulder, touches his throat wound with a ‘huh’ leaving his lips.

Odd.

An abandoned house sits near where he remembers fishing with his father, but he can’t remember what this used to be. Everything seen with fresh eyes, it seems like a lifetime ago – feels more like a dream than reality.

He continues on.

“You’re a fresh face,” comes a voice, almost startling him. Almost.

Spinning on his heels, he shifts his hammer, scans around. A thin womanly figure floats down from out of a tree. She’s cloaked in moss and tree bark, her features soft and almost kind. Heisenberg doesn’t lower his hammer.

“Such a bad day for traveling,” though she doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, Heisenberg sniffles at her. “What are you doing out here, stranger?”

“Just out for a stroll,” he drawls. “Passing through.”

She steps closer and he steps back, aware that there’s nowhere to board up except the abandoned house. The tree woman extends her palms forward in an almost-innocence.

“Let me take you somewhere nice,” she motions behind her, as if that tree is ‘somewhere nice.’ Heisenberg doesn’t want to find out what she means. “Handsome guy like you…I could indulge in.”

He’s about to swing his hammer when he goes toppling to the ground again, the Earth feeling like it’s shifting beneath him – a dizzying in his head as he fights off another one of those antler-creatures.

Shifting his hand, he can feel the metal from objects inside the abandoned house. With a blink, they go flying through the air to impale the beast atop him. Growling sounds louder, foot stomps, and then a puncture to his neck. It’s not an antler this time, doesn’t feel as thick or grating, and when he looks out of the corner of his eye it’s the tree-lady crouched over him with a needle poking from her wrist into his neck.

Shoving her off then rising to his feet, he collects himself, pulls the metal scraps to float around him, but falters in a dizzy spell.

The tree woman laughs. “Much mightier than I thought. And powers, too!”

Blinking hard, Heisenberg sways on his feet, slamming his hammer down to catch himself. Breaths coming out ragged, he lowers his head to his hands.

This can’t be happening.

Shoving the metal forward as best he can, he realizes that he’s missed: the woman is beside him now.

“Aw, poor man,” she’s seductive suddenly, reaching for him, touching his arm. She seems to ignore the horned beasts surrounding them – or, rather, they ignore her. “Don’t you want to come and warm up?”

He wants to shove her off, but his body isn’t functioning properly. He feels like he’s stuck in a trance. Fingers twitching to shift the metal around them, he manages to kill one of the beasts before she grips his jacket and pulls him closer.

“You bitch,” he huffs, feeling her body pressed against him, his own reacting to their proximity.

She laughs. “Don’t fight it, sugar. You could use a nice release, couldn’t you? So pent up.”

Her lips are pressing to his and it’s almost as if he’s completely lost control. Her taste is exquisite, enticing, he can’t get enough. The hammer falls to the snow as he kisses her back, hand trailing behind her, pulling her into him harshly. A low moan leaves him but it sounds far away. Feeling is leaving his fingers – from the cold or something else, he isn’t sure. All he knows is he needs this.

“Serena, stop!” comes a yell from behind them and it feels like a slap to the face.

The beasts are no longer tame, but they growl in place.

Heisenberg is shoved back as another woman steps in between him and this tree woman Serena. His hands are grabbing for her though – contact, he needs contact – but they fall short and land on this new woman. He can’t seem to stop himself.

“Leave us alone, [Y/N]! This has nothing to do with you,” the tree woman Serena says.

[Y/N]? Heisenberg isn’t familiar…

Breaths are coming out in deep huffs like he’s been running. His head is foggy, trance-like still.

“Do you have any idea who this is?” [Y/N] asks, a small squeak leaving her as he loops his fingers up under her shirt, traces his calloused hands over her belly, inching up toward her breasts, dips his head to the crook of her neck.

“No, but my pheromones seem to work well on him. I was so close to total control.”

He’s sort of aware of this comment from the plant lady – enough that he pulls back from [Y/N] completely.

[Y/N] turns to him then, presses her hands to his shoulders. “Snap out of it,” she urges, “focus.”

Heisenberg finds himself staring into her eyes, focusing on the surroundings, has so many damn questions right now, but the scene before him keeps spinning.

Serena takes a swing at [Y/N] but she dodges, ducks under her blast of whatever-the-fuck-petals-those-are, and delivers a strong punch to her face. As the girls fight, Heisenberg blinks heavily and tries to shake this trance off.

Wide eyes stare into the snow as he’s a little embarrassed by the pants tent he’s currently sporting. Jesus. Fuck.

Anger pounds through him, his hand quickly snapping for his hammer…only it doesn’t work. A nervous gaze is shot to the women but he realizes that the tree lady isn’t using her powers either. He has a sinking feeling as he tries to force the metal pieces to float again.

Hoisting his hammer up the old-fashioned way, he realizes its weight.

“Duck,” he tells [Y/N], shoving her out of the way before delivering a blow to this tree lady, knocking her out.

[Y/N] stands back then, sees the anger flash in Heisenberg’s eyes. The antlered beasts still growl in place.

“Talk,” he snaps. “Now.”

“Your teeth are chattering,” she acknowledges. “Can’t we at least-”

“I said talk,” he slams the hammer down in the snow.

A nod. “Serena,” she nods over to the moss-covered lady on the ground. “She’s…we’re all…” she shakes her head then finishes with, “-like you.”

He can feel his shaking now, attributes it to this news when it could full-well be from the cold.

“Cadou?” he asks to which she nods. “Fuck.” He runs a hand down his face then shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them warm and to hide the half-chub he’s still got. “Where the Hell did my powers go?”

She looks sheepish. “I have everything to do with that.” At this, he reaches for his hammer again. “I-I didn’t take them or something, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He doesn’t look convinced. She sighs. “Here.” She steps backwards about 15 feet. “Try now.”

Begrudgingly, he removes his fists from his pockets and his hammer flies into his hand instantly. With a blink, he watches the metal pieces float up around him then rain back down into the snow.

Ah. So she can block power…

He remains silent which clearly makes her a little uneasy so she starts speaking again.

“Serena is a Dryad,” she announces as if he’s supposed to know what the fuck that is. “She has power over plants. You got to experience her pheromones…” she looks him over, eyes landing on his half-chub before she inhales and looks elsewhere.

“And what do they call you?” he steps closer.

“They don’t have a term for me. I…wasn’t given enough time…” she looks away, steps until her back is to the abandoned house.

He’s close, peering down at her. “And what are they,” he thumbs behind him.

“Wendigo,” she breathes out. He doesn’t reply. “She feeds them…” Heisenberg nods, grabs a cigar from his pocket, lights it, turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

When he’s far enough away from the power cockblock, he pulls his hammer to him again, slicing up the Wendigos with his metal until there’s a heap of bodies around his feet. That should stop them from following.

[Y/N] tries to not let her surprise and approval show in her expression as she watches him, but he sees a small quirk of her eyebrow. Exhaling smoke, he takes another drag then starts coughing from the cold air.

“Powers or not, this weather isn’t good for you,” [Y/N] sighs.

“What, are you the ruler here? Kicking me out so soon?” he swings his hammer over his shoulder.

“We have no ruler, just…a monitor,” she shakes her head, turns, stops herself from saying more. “What is your business here, Lord Heisenberg?”

“Ah, so you do know me. Different village, yet word travels, hm?”

“You…don’t know of this place, do you?” at her question, he bites down the memories of his father. “Come, we have much to discuss.” As she begins walking, she doesn’t hear his footsteps following behind. She turns, tries another angle, “Or I could get Serena back up and she could show you more of her powers. Trust me, you don’t want her spores getting…other places. You’d have greater concerns than an awkward boner.”

Heisenberg can feel his cheeks heating up.

“Mouthy little bitch, aren’t you?”

She holds her hands up in innocence. “Just looking out for a mighty ruler.” She laughs. “Shall I start a fire or would you rather freeze your ass off out here? Maybe you need a minute to cool off – like a cold shower.”

He can’t help the laugh that comes from his throat at her quips.

“Spunky. I like you.”

[Y/N] inhales sharply, surprised and flattered.

And so begins their silent walk – Heisenberg trailing further behind just in case his powers are needed. The village is bigger than he remembers, though he doesn’t remember much.

[Y/N] picks up the wood she’d left outside of her door right before Heisenberg’s run-in with Serena and the Wendigo. If her fire hadn’t died, she wouldn’t have seen the pack of Wendigo charging down the hill at them. Any slower and Serena may have gotten her claws into him to use at her command.

Sometimes these powers come in handy, despite what Mother Miranda may think.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

I saw your prompt/requests are open and just EPIC.

Would you be able to write anything (fic or HeadCanons) of a really sub Thunderhoof.

(Maybe getting gang-banged by the pack or put in his place by Steeljaw?)

(You obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to, thank you for your time tho! Love your writing!)

I’m like, mega horny rn, so I do in fact, have an nsfw idea for thunderslut here, so let’s go!

“Are you certain?”

“Babe, I’m telling ya, I want this. If YOU gots a problem with it, that’s a different story-”

“No no. I just want you to be comfortable and feel safe.”

Optimus had been ‘dating’ Thunderhoof for quite some time, and one thing he took away from this relationship, was the fact that Thunderhoof had some tastes. Tastes that put Optimus in such positions of power. It made him a little nervous. As good as his hands were, he was a large mech, and he knew he could easily hurt him, even on accident. Thunderhoof scoffed from his place on the floor.

“I am. Trust me, if I didn’t feel safe, we wouldn’t be here. Come on, take care of your mech here.”

Optimus sighed. If Thunderhoof said so. He held onto his cheek, and kissed his forehelm.

“Very well. If I’m too heavy handed, you must let me know.”

“Yeah yeah, ya big sap.”

Optimus chuckled. He took the leather piece from the berth, and was careful to tie it properly. Thunderhoof had this piece made for him, and him alone. It was meant to tie firmly around his antlers, and along with the small hook on the wall, it was also meant to keep him into place. It came with a pretty yet firm collar, and a piece that was meant to keep as a gag around his mouth. The gag however, was for another time, when Optimus felt more confident with himself. Thunderhoof gave it a good pull, and the leather tightened, as if warning him to behave. He gave a nod as he looked up at Optimus, satisfied with his work. Optimus patted his helm, as if he really were a pet.

“You’re quite adorable like this, darling. As...crude as this is.”

“You act like you ain’t into domming me.”

Perhaps he was true. Just a little. It was all but witty banter, giving time for the-

‘ding!’

It was ready. Optimus took the warm oil from the dresser, and stirred it lightly with his servos. Warm, lightly smoky in its scent, it was just what Thunderhoof liked. Optimus dipped his servos into the bowl, before taking his slick servos, and grabbing onto Thunderhoof’s antler. Thunderhoof stiffened. If he could use his hands, he’d be making Optimus hurry the fuck up. But Optimus really, really knew his body. Optimus’s servos were slow, careful as they rubbed in between the ridges. It was calculated, knowing just how much oil he needed for every ridge. Thunderhoof gave a light swear the closer he got to his helm. The oil dripped down from his antlers, onto the floor, and onto his pedes. Optimus chuckled as he held onto his chin, watching as his mouth hung open in its greed.

“You are enjoying yourself. Yet, I’ve only done one antler.”

Thunderhoof looked down at himself. His spike had popped out, and boy was it happy to see Prime. Thunderhoof looked up at him lazily, chuckling.

“You’re...good at what you do. VERY, good at what you do, sugar tits.”

“Crude as that may be, I understand your sentiment.”

He kissed his helm again, before he moved to the second antler. He was a bit more bold this time; servos firm as it dipped into the ridges, and even making Thunderhoof shudder as he doused the oil alongside the entire antler. Thunderhoof had been on his knees for no more than twenty minutes, but yet, he was nearly shaking, body pouring out exhaust in an attempt to cool itself. Optimus pushed his warm, slippery servos into his mouth, and Thunderhoof was forced to take them, less the restraints tighten his horns further (he did act as if he wanted to escape, but they both knew it was his want to feel those leather restraints). Wet, hot servos met a wet, hot mouth. Optimus pulled his hand away, lightly tapping the other’s cheek. He was about to torment him further, when Thunderhoof seemed to whine under him.

“Babe, I-I don’t think imma last as long as I thought, let’s cut to the chase, yea-”

“I decide when it is your time, darling.”

Optimus yanked at the restraints, forcing Thunderhoof’s helm back as he cried. He had thought he was too rough, before Thunderhoof’s optics met his own. He was panting, glossa hung out like a drooling puppy, with his spike twitching feebly underneath him.

“Shit...~ Right, youse the boss, my bad.”

Optimus sighed in relief. For a moment, he feared he had hurt him. Optimus popped open his spike panel, and held Thunderhoof’s helm as he pressed himself against his face. Thunderhoof chuckled, glossa giving the spike a quick lick.

“This is new, big mech. Think you’re startin’ to like being in charge.”

“Perhaps a little.”

Optimus pushed himself past his lips, right till he hit the back of his intake. Optimus slowly pushed himself back and forth, all while his servos still worked at his antlers. Optimus would pull himself out occasionally, forcing Thunderhoof to lean forward to suck him off still. Optimus found himself just as weak as his partner, spike throbbing in mere moments. He pulled himself out of the gasping, wanting mouth.

“You should skullfuck me.”

“I...pardon?”

Optimus was sort of lost in the lewd smells of the room. Thunderhoof wiped fluids from his lips, thanks to his shoulder.

“Skullfuck me, shoot a load down my throat, and lemme have my turn.”

“Normally I’d retort for you trying to take control,”

Optimus held onto his antlers, right by his helm, and started to pound right into his intake.

“But it’s a VERY good idea.”

Optimus watched in fascination as Thunderhoof gifted him with drool, groans, and gags against his spike. Thunderhoof had been skull fucked plenty of times, but Optimus was a big boy, and he clearly struggled to accommodate him. Not that he minded. Especially not when Optimus yanked his helm forward, and overloaded. It was a damn big load too, making Thunderhoof nearly choke on it. Optimus groaned as he pulled away, splashing the pink liquid on his chin, and chest. Thunderhoof gulped, before he found himself panting. Optimus wiped at his mouth, scoffing.

“You didn’t HAVE to swallow.”

“Spitters are for quitters.”

Thunderhoof was really an odd, odd mech. Before he spoke another word, Optimus put his pede right against his spike. Not crushing it, but putting just enough of his weight to make this humiliating for his horny mate.

“I suppose you did well. You want your turn now, don’t you?”

“Frag yes, PLEASE!”

Optimus thought of taunting him further, but a face that desperate demanded he just let him have it. Optimus kept grinding his pede against him, holding onto his antlers as Thunderhoof bucked against him. Thunderhoof was trembling under him, swearing and panting underneath his grip. That was when Optimus yanked him forward, and pressed down at his spike. Thunderhoof’s body thrashed against him, as if in defiance, before he overloaded, staining his pede. Optimus moved his helm to get a good look at his optics, chuckling at his messy, dopey grin.

“Satisfied?”

“You...could say that, yeah~”

“Primus sakes, what ever am I to do with you? Feel as though I should just keep you here for the night, maybe you’ll learn your lesson come morning.”

“Easy babe, give me a few before you start my engine back up again.”

Optimus rolled his optics, and they both silently agreed on just a kiss. For now.

For a mob boss, he really did like being bossed around.

[mmmonie]

Hi my other post? Got notes? And I already had this basically ready to go so………….? Here it is I guess! Also I’m so sorry for how long this is LOL…..I am incapable of shutting up once I get going so it’s under the read more for you…….(also?? thank you? for the followers uhm cheesed to meet you? 😳 lol)

This is basically what I imagine the manifestation of a demon's powers to be like??? I called it the “juvenile phase” in my other post so thats what im going with lol

Here’s some things I said in my first post that are relevant here, slightly edited. (I elaborate more on the different ways demons are born in that post and I think they’re pretty self explanatory, but u might wanna go read it just in case it’s not clear enough 😔 sorry): (link to first post)

* Demons have multiple forms, not just the two shown in game. All in all the brothers have 5, each becoming less and less humanoid. (Most demons only have 4) 

* Half/human born demons are more likely to have both a tail and wings in their first demonic form. Stronger demons like the brothers are merely showing off the strongest of the two, but everyone has both. (Again bc I think they’re sick as fuck lol) This is why the stereotypical devil in our world has both wings and a tail. 

*a demon's features can be influenced by what sin they are, but it’s not a hard or fast rule.**

***this does not apply to little Ds whose look is entirely dependent on their sin. They are an entirely separate conversation 😈 (I elaborate on this briefly at the very end LOL) 

* half/human born demons can have two sins assigned to them, though this makes them less powerful in both. Usually there is a more prominent sin. 

*It should also be noted fallen angels do not have a juvenile phase. While the powers they develop after the Fall are different, they already come prepared, having had intense restraint implemented in their training in the celestial realm. The only things they develop are tails and horns, which happens very quickly during the Fall. They still have the same instincts as demons lol they are just much better at maintaining control. 

*another note: I’m gonna use acronyms for our different types of demons after a while to save me some headache. They’re pretty self explanatory (Ex: half demon = HD) 

With that let’s begin, shall we? 

~~~

*All demons are born with innate magical abilities, the juvenile phase is just the manifestation of their sins and some of their power. Some powers do not come into fruition until much later in a demon's lifespan. (Will elaborate later) 

*They won’t have a complete hold on their powers after this either, it’s just like. The bare minimum of getting a grip so they don’t cause immediate damage LOL they have many years to get into the nuances. Magic to demons is about as easy as breathing, but it still comes with its own challenges. 

*Many of the powers that manifest are shaped by what kind of sin(s) they display. I’m gonna say the sin(s) developed depend on the individual rather than it being hereditary. Though there are powers that are inherent to all demons. (i.e. hypnotizing humans like in lesson 11-14)

*The beginning of the juvenile phase starts when a demon develops their horns, wings, claws and tails. 

*For almost every demon, the juvenile phase lasts about two or three weeks. A human born’s phase will immediately kick in the day after their ceremony. Because of a half demon’s heritage, their transition is delayed and will usually happen around “middle school” age. (However many thousands of years that is lol. Also imagine going through puberty AND growing a bunch of extra shit.........smh.) 

*Natural demons have it slightly easier, they go through this phase very early (around toddler age). They develop the nubs of their horns, wings and tail a while after they’re born. 

*However this is NOT easier for whoever is taking care of them. Demons that develop later are mostly self-sufficient, meaning you can leave them to rest a bit. Can't leave a baby alone for very long though, can you? Especially not when they’re hurtling objects around with their mind, or causing things to spontaneously combust. (Also imagine a regular baby during their teething phase……….now imagine a baby’s teething phase being ten times more itchy AND manifesting new powers. Congratulations on your very cranky and powerful baby, best of luck to you.)

*Parents take this in stride as it’s just how demon babies are. It is all very Addams family esque…. like awwww, our baby just tried to induce horrific hallucinations of our own deaths!!! 🥺🥰🤧 they grow up so fast!!!!

*HB and HD wings and things grow in very quickly. The nubs will sprout from the skin and then mature into wings and horns in just a few days. ND transitions are much more drawn out, taking about a week to complete. All the growth is very itchy for everyone though. 

*You know when you have an itch that just won’t quit or that you can’t reach, so you have to use some outside force to get some relief? Same concept here. Much like deer and their antlers, demons rub their horns and wings up against things to get to those spots they can’t get to themselves. It also has the added effect of encouraging growth and getting excess skin/keratin off them. Family members often help with preening and scratching. 

*There are special concoctions/spells to make the process easier and to help ease the itchiness. As well as products made for specific purposes, like to get at that space where your wings meet your shoulders lol 

*There are also things to pad horns. Having your baby demon impale your shins is no fun. Neither is having your best friend accidentally get stuck in the cabinet because their horns went through the shelf. 

*The first week and a half is usually when a demon is most active. They are encouraged to play fight, stretch their new wings and become familiar with their new instincts. 

•Play fighting is a way to help learn to readjust to their new strength. (and thank god demons are near impossible to kill lol they can get VERY rough.) It’s also considered a bonding activity. 

*Hunting instincts also come into play so it’s not uncommon to see a demon in their juvenile phase playing a really fucked up game of hide and seek with their loved ones (no one gets hurt. Probably <3) 

*These two skills also help with learning how to fly. A game of fucked up hide and seek in the forest is both fun and educational. 

*This is very much like when puppies' paws are too big for they got damn them, except y'know. with horns and claws. So expect some accidental scrapes and

*This is also usually the time where their sin(s) will manifest, along with their new powers. At this point this is where family comes in, as a newly developing demon is reliant on everyone around them to help them learn how to control their strength/powers. Taking care of a demon in their juvenile phase is a family bonding activity, and even those who are prone to being cold are a bit softer during this time. (A reminder that family can be anyone, not just blood related.) 

*The second half of their transition is more about conserving energy for the introduction of their final form.  

*Nesting instincts kick in and are important here, because any nest created will be that demon's home for a period of time. They won’t stray very far from wherever they’ve chosen to stay. Nearly all demons will just choose a comfortable place in their home to nest, however, some demons (i.e. demons like Levi) need a special place because of their final forms. They will be drawn there instinctively.

*A nest is just composed of soft material and sometimes extra objects. For example a greed demon might want shiny or precious objects around their nest. 

*This will also be the home of the loved one(s) taking care of their demon. They will go out and find anything the other one might need or want. A demon will only choose one or two others to take care of them at this time. Other family members are allowed to visit, but the chosen demon(s) stay with their struggling one for nearly the entire last half of this period. 

*It’s considered an honor to be chosen and it is a bragging point, especially if you have been chosen multiple times. 

*Despite what you might think, parental/domestic skills are very important to demons. They live a very long time, and it be a waste to treat their spawn poorly. They’re stuck with them for nearly an eternity, so you might as well try to do your best with them. Being able to showcase being chosen to whomever your courting is, how you say.............a little sexy. So being chosen multiple times? “Wow you’d be a great parent? Tell me more…..😳” 

*Demons will slowly spend more and more time in their nest as they approach the end of their phase. Growing extra things takes a lot of energy! Many demons end up mostly sleeping for the last couple days in preparation for the end. 

*Since they are so sleepy, this is the most outwardly cuddly most demons will be. Close family members are encouraged to come stay in the same space for a while. The demon will often be asleep, but waking up and playing games with them is a great way to bond. If you’re REALLY special you might end up being allowed to sleep in their nest for a bit. 

*The juvenile phase culminates when the demon reaches their final form (usually the fourth one.) Over this last half, they slowly grow more monstrous features. Scales, fur, claws, eyes, teeth, spines.........the whole lot! Anything and everything you can imagine. Each demon's final form is unique, though they do not get a decision as to what features they have. Final forms tend to be very large. 

*This is where they are taught how to use their glamor and how to piece themselves back into a form that’s easier to maneuver. Think of it like starting from the top and working your way down. 

*There are demons whose job it is to go mark down the details of every single final form. Things like what powers manifested, to how tall they are, their overall physical strength and what sin(s) they portray, etc. They are all recorded in the royal archives. It’s a bit like a right of passage, especially for younger demons and their parents. 

*Going back to the very top, some powers won’t manifest until after the juvenile phase. Some won’t even manifest until the demon has hit sexual maturity (which takes a MUCH longer time for demons.) This is true of almost every power that Lust develops except for perhaps an increase in their charisma/ability to charm. Demons who are assigned Lust are considered the late bloomers of the demonic world, as almost all other sins manifest more power right away. 

*Also relating to the top of this post: the reason Little Ds looks are biased on what sin they are is because they are pure concentrated forms of sin given life. They’re extracted from the souls of humans who committed sin, and used for grunt work/errand running. They develop their own personalities as they go, but it takes a bit so they’re kind of a blank slate until then.

~~~

I was gonna be like oh treat for you here’s how the brothers dealt with Satan and his juvenile phase but this is long as FUCK already so I will make…...a separate post. Edit: SURPRISE! treat for u! heres the link if u want

Thanks for reading! Until next time ig? 

[intricate-oeuvre]

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part II

Word count: 2.8+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: strong language; hints at implied smut

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

With a grunt the male witcher let go of the girl.

“What are you doing here? I got everything under control.” Axelia hissed, running her forearm under her nose to get rid of the blood and dirt.

“You look like…” Geralt was looking for appropriate word to describe Axelia. Her once white hair now was full with dirt, mud and blood, little pine needles stuck in the ends. Her fair skin seemed to have gone through same, dirty and bruised, thin layer of sweat making it look even muddier.

“What? Like shit?” Axelia offered and stretched out her hand, waiting for Geralt to give back her her sword. Once she felt the cold hilt of the sword in her palm, she yanked her hand back, retrieving her sword and securing it on her back.

“Thank you very much.” Axelia rolled her eyes and stepped around the witcher. For a second she froze, swiftly looking both ways and with a sigh reached behind her and took the black tulle blindfold and fastened it across her eyes. There at her feet was the head of the monster, both antlers dirty, some moss and grass wedged in them. She reached down to grab its antler, first time missing it, but then with a huff she picked it up.

“You killed my monster.” Geralt observed, turning to look at the dead carcass on the ground.

“Apologies. Didn’t see your name on it.” Axelia said sarcastically and made her way to get out of the forest.

“Weren’t you supposed to stay at Kaer Morhen?” Geralt asked catching up with her.

“To do what?” Axelia tilted her head at the sound of his deep voice.

“Winters there with Lambert and Eskel became unbearable.” She opted for explaining further. Only receiving deep Hm from the witcher besides her.

For the rest of the journey to the field, there was silence. Geralt only looking at her from time to time, trying to understand how she was still alive.

“I know you are staring, Rivian.” Axelia spat at him as both of them reached the edge of the forest. “I can sense it.” All this time, her head was bowed, but nonetheless she put her feet, one in front of another with such confidence, that one could not tell that she was blind. Geralt was about to say something to her, but Axelia’s head shot up and she stared into the distance.

“You got a horse. Excellent.” She beamed, making her way faster to the horse.

“You are going nowhere near Roach.” Geralt called after her.

“I am not carrying this head all by myself on this fine day.” Axelia huffed almost reaching the horse. She heard a whistle coming from Geralt and then the horse trotted pass Axelia to her owner.

Girl sighed and with the leshen’s head in her hands, turned around to face the fellow witcher.

“Fine! I’ll carry it myself then.” She rolled her eyes and turned to continue the walk across the field towards the grove. Axelia still could hear him and his horse walking some steps behind her.

“I don’t hold you here, you can go. Coinless that is, but free to leave.” She stopped once again, letting her shoulders sink lower. Not the first time she has said something along those lines. His presence here made her remember things she didn’t want to remember. Taking a deep lungful, she looked up at the murky sky. Dropping the leshen’s head near her feet she sighed.

“How did you know it was me? You haven’t seen me in years.” Axelia said, when she heard that the witcher had stopped somewhere behind her.

“The scent.” He stated simply.

“I stink that bad, huh?” Axelia murmured loud enough for Geralt to hear.

“Velvet rose and sandalwood.” He said making her look to the side, brows furrowing underneath the tulle.

“Sensed it before I even stepped into that forest. It seems to accompany you wherever you go.” He explained to her. She swallowed thickly, not sure what to tell him.

“Since when you trust only your nose?” She tried to play it off, reaching for the antler to grab on.

“Why do you even know that smell?” She shook her head, trying to rid her head of thoughts.

“I don’t know.” Geralt answered, more to himself, because he genuinely didn’t know the answer himself.

“You know what? Forget that you met me today. I got money to collect.” She said frankly and made her way through the sporadic grove. Well, today she didn’t think that she’ll need to stop on so many occasions. But here she was again, because somebody was pulling on the other antler.

“Hey! Go find your own! This is mine! You are not getting my payment!” Axelia hissed as she spun around, still not letting go of her antler.

“Why are you here?” Geralt asked, still holding other antler, Roach looking upon both from a distance. Axelia didn’t answer, huffed and pulled on her antler, hoping that Geralt will let go. But he didn’t.

“Can you not?” She let deep breath through her nose. He still waited for her answer while pulling the scull back to him.

“For fucks sake! I will punch you, Geralt!” Axelia yelled at him. Her head raising to look somewhere near his head as she pulled the scull to her with both hands on the antler now.

“I have no doubt that you will.” Geralt tilted his head to the side, the corner of his lips slightly raising. This time pulling the antler that was in his hand, harder away from her.

With angry and annoyed grunt, Axelia pulled on the antler once more. Geralt wasn’t so keen on letting her pull it. With a crack, similar to one that thick, dry wooden branch would make, the scull with only one antler was left in Axelia’s hand, while the other was left in Geralt’s. For a second there was silence. Both of them confused on why it broke so easily.

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed in his deep voice.

“LOOK WHAT YOU DID NOW, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, GERALT!” Axelia screamed as she swung back the scull and tried to hurl Geralt in the head with it. But his reflexes were faster and he duck out of the way, only Fuck leaving his mouth.

“You. Broke. My. Antler. Idiot.” Axelia screamed. Each word punctuated with swing of a scull as Geralt was stepping back and ducking out of her way.

“Someone has to file off those horns of yours!” Geralt said as he ducked out of her way again.

“MY HORNS? Who do you think I am?!” Axelia yelled again, getting ready to make another blow at the witcher. Now, using the antler that was still in his hand, Geralt clashed it against the scull. One of it’s branches getting caught in the eye socket of the scull, thus expertly yanking the whole thing out of Axelia’s hands. With infuriated sigh she stopped, her hands balled in fists at her side. She stared at him, her peaked witcher senses allowing her to see enough to look him in the eyes.

“Can I do my job peacefully?” She asked, almost sounding delirious because of all the yelling beforehand, yanking the antler from Geralt’s hand. Witcher didn’t answer. This whole situation funny to him. He always liked to rile her up, when they both were younger back at Kaer Morhen.

“How did you know it was me?” She asked again, pinching the bridge of her nose and turning away.

“I said. The scent of velvet rose and sandalwood.”

“How did you know it was me? It could have been anyone else with that fragrance.”

“But I have only met one person with that scent. And it is you. Every single time I stepped into those stone walls, there was that smell. Even back when we went through those trials, if I felt that scent, then I knew I was still alive.” He explained, his eyes catching every single movement of her. Axelia stopped her pacing and looked at Geralt. She didn’t want to remember what they had gone through to become what they are now. What she is now. Why is he telling this?

“You talk too much, Geralt.” Axelia sighed, turning towards the village.

“Only when you are around.” He hummed.

“Since when do I own such niceties from you, Rivian?” She brushed her palms against each other, rubbing off some dirt and dried blood from them, antler wedged in her side for a moment. To Geralt she seemed distant and cold. Witchers were never know to be the ones to show emotions, but even taking that into accord, Axelia was more chirpy toned. Less- this unbothered person. It seemed as if both of them had switched their moods. He was the broody one, and she was the joyful one, trying to make the best out of everything. Suddenly, it seemed that that had switched these personas.

“Why didn’t you turn away? Why did you walk into the forest? You know that I can handle myself.” She turned her head to look across her shoulder at him.

“I wanted to. But my gut told my I shouldn’t.” He said, taking a quick glance at Roach as she was feeding on the grass that grew in the grove they were standing in.

“If that would have been Yen, then—” he started to explain, but was stopped by how quickly Axelia had turned around and hissed at him:

“Ah, yes, Yennefer. How could I forget her? How could you forget her? You know what?” Axelia spat at him, exaggerating her point by throwing up her hands, antler still in her right hand.

“Will you let me finish?” Geralt said, getting tad annoyed by her attitude. He already had Jaskier to get on his nerves, he didn’t need her too, he didn’t want her to get on his nerves.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Axelia said pointing that antler at him. He narrowed his eyes at her, being cautious if she thinks of hitting him again.

“I know what is about to come out of that mouth of yours.” She shook the antler at Geralt. He was about to protest when she sighed and held up one finger.

“Keep the head.” She threw the antler at his feet.

“You killed the monster, its your money.” Geralt pointed out.

“I can’t deal with you right now. I didn’t ask you to be here. Why don’t you just leave, then? The same way that you left me to rot on the doorstep of Kaer Morhen?” She exhaled and turned to walk to village and get away from there sooner.

She remembered that night as if it had happened yesterday. It had been a pleasantly dark evening. Air was still crisp, spring had barely come after a long, cold winter. Axelia had watched how Geralt packed all the stuff he needed for his next journey, as he was the last to leave. She had been dressed in her own armour. He seemed oddly quiet that night. Not that he ever talked much. Axelia, even with-out her eyesight, could see that he was planning on doing something. But she couldn’t tell what it was that he was planning. As much as she knew, he was leaving. That’s what she gathered from Vesemir.

As both of them were walking through now empty halls of the witcher school, Axelia was trailing behind Geralt. Tense silence between them. Girl with light hair, knew that it was spring and Geralt was about to leave for whatever was next for him. And she had thought that this could be that one time they could both leave together. Now she felt ready, finished all her witcher training, learned what there was to learn in the school. Both of her swords, just like Geralt’s, sat snugly on her back.

“What’s the next stop?” she had asked while he was fastening his bag on the back of his horse.

“Velen. At start. Then wherever the coin is.” He said with a grunt as he pulled the belts of his bag tighter. Axelia hummed in approvement as they both made their way back up to school. Stepping in the kitchen/dining room, Geralt looked around some shelves, as if to make himself busy.

“You seem a bit lost there.” Axelia chuckled sitting at the table and looking how he was picking and putting down various items. Only response she got from him was his iconic deep hum.

“Need help there, good sir?” She asked kind-spirited.

“No.” was his clipped answer.

“Alright then… What are you looking for?” she asked, her brow slightly furrowed.

“Nothing.” He turned to look at her. He looked around for a second and then half-awkwardly said:

“I’m leaving now, then.”

“I know.” Axelia smirked at him and got up to follow him out.

“You are staying.” He stopped to look at her when he heard her follow.

“You know very well that I am not, you stupid.” Axelia rolled her eyes and walked around him to go to his horse.

“I’m serious. You are staying here.” He dead-panned, leaving no room for defences.

“What? I thought that after… I thought we…” Axelia furrowed her brows at him, feeling slightly stupid.

“Don’t follow me.” He said getting a hold of her shoulders and spinning her around.

“I’m leaving.” He pointed at her and turned to walk away.

“Not with-out me.” She said stubbornly and still followed him.

“Axelia.” Geralt warned.

“Geralt.” She said in same tone. “You are not leaving me here. I am not staying here basically all alone anymore.” She said almost pleading.

“I can’t take you with me. You have to stay. Look after school.”

“The fuck do I look like to you? Inn keeper?” She pushed him out of her way. But before she could actually take any steps further, Geralt had grabbed her from behind and pulled her against his chest. Both of them falling silent for a moment.

“You can’t leave me here. Not again.” She whispered, trying to force her voice not to waver. The deal with Axelia was that, she was like a failed experiment as one could say. She wasn’t the best that Kaer Morhen could offer when it came to excellent witchers. She needed to hone her senses and use what she still got. One was to be with sharp eyesight and dull emotions, while Axelia was complete opposite: blind emphatic girl with sharp reflexes and inhuman strength. And yet, somehow, she made it to the top, with some minor setbacks to still fix, but good enough to go out there.

“You can’t come with me, Axelia.” Geralt had said gravely in her hair.

“No. Please don’t leave me. You are the only one that believes in me.” She whispered, her milky eyes brimming with tears. Geralt looked at the door. He couldn’t stay any longer.

“Close your eyes.” Geralt order to her.

“We’re too old to play games.” Axelia said, her brows furrowing again, as her hands wrapped around his.

“You didn’t oppose the last time when we were in bed.” He whispered, his chin now on her right shoulder. With sigh she closed her eyes. Geralt pressed his lips against her temple, not something he did usually. Somehow, she felt that he was lingering in that one kiss. Moments later, his hands left her waist, and she was left feeling cold.

“Geralt?” Axelia asked, still not opening her eyes. That moment she heard the deadbolt of the kitchen door fall shut.

“Not where we e—” She opened her eyes, standing alone in the room, door locked from outside.

“Geralt?” She questioned again this time louder. “This isn’t funny.” She walked to the door and tried to open them, but it was no use.

“You can’t leave me!” she called out yanking on the handle.

“Vesemir is never going to let me leave!” she continued, not caring if she was about to wake someone up.

“Geralt! Please don’t leave me!” She banged on the door, hitting her shoulder against it, trying to break the door. With unholy swear leaving her mouth she run to the back door of the kitchen, even if it meant taking the longer route, she was not letting him leave her. Running down the lengthy corridor and passing through armoury and two training rooms, she ran through big hall, pausing momentarily too look at the locked kitchen door.

“Geralt!” Axelia called, not feeling him anywhere near her. She run to the threshold of the School of Wolf and with her empty eyes looked around.

“Please, no…” She whined pathetically as she realised that she has been left behind. Another year to waste all alone while other witchers were gone.

She remembered very clearly how that night she had slept and cried in his pillows. She was weak, something that witcher shouldn’t be.

~~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

tags: @boiled-onionrings @fandomwithnolifesblog​ @901seconds​ @kingniazx​ @shesakillerkween

[paperficwriter]

A Deer Dance (Charlastor, Hazbin Hotel)

Alastor is a deer demon, and while he's never been lonely, he's not going to say no to a little doe that seems as interested in him as he with her.

Dirty Paper warning!

---

Living or dead, Alastor always did like to believe that he was one of a kind. The best of the best, and a step above the rest. And, in many ways, he was right; when he compared himself to other radio personalities, or home chefs, or, now, demon lords, that knowledge that he was better would add a skip in his step and the huge smile on his face.

He wondered if that gap that remained open between him and everyone else was the reason why his appearance was so different here. He’d never seen another deer demon before. All of the other shapes of demonic beasts were represented, certainly. Wolves. Bears. Goats. God, so many goats, it had ruined any dish with meat or milk that he might come across.

There were rumors of others, but perhaps his presence, his power, had sent them all into hiding.

That would make sense. Alastor didn’t particularly appreciate being shown up (and most denizens across the Nine Circles were more than aware of that). Just his average appearance - his dashing suit, the cloven prints of his shoes, the long fluffy tufts of his hair and his sharp-toothed grin - parted many a crowd, but in his true demonic form with its rack of horns and dead-eyed, sharp-toothed leer, most hoped to just survive the encounter.

But it was in his fairly casual shape that he went to Mimzy’s Club for a colorful event that she was hosting that particular evening. The Burlesque Revue had been all the talk across the city for several weeks before, something that was supposed to combine the lurid fantasies that were commonplace in this corner of Hell with something a little more artistic.

“Listen, if there’s gonna be stripping, ain’t nobody gonna say no to that,” he had heard one demon say as they looked at the poster of one particularly long-legged dame with a boa around her shoulders. “If they wanna make it fancy, s’alright by me, just so long as they take it all off at the end, yeah?”

There certainly wasn’t any proof that Alastor had set the unbearable dolt on fire. People combust all the time in Hell!

After all, the concept alone sounded entertaining enough for Alastor, that was for certain, but what really intrigued him the most was the rumor that the whole thing was being hosted to bring attention to some hospitality project being taken on by the Princess of Hell herself, Charlotte Magne. And if she was anything like the classical piece of art her mother Lilith was on stage, he did not want to miss this for anything.

Mimzy clearly had tried to doll up the place. There were fairy lights everywhere, and thick drapes of black and red velvet scooped down from each pillar along the edge of the club floor. An entire area had been elevated into a stage and that was littered with props and poles and bars.

“Al!” Mimzy gushed as soon as he came in, rushing over to take both of his hands. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. These people are annoying the shit out of me. I forgot how the artsy crowd could be such a bunch of divas.”

“Mim, Mim, Mim,” he tutted, “I think you just described the entire population of the here-after. The artists just happen to have practice, don’t you know?”

They laughed about that, and then someone spoke up behind him, a young, sweet voice that was so different from the raucous roar he was used to that it was almost startling. “Hey, Mimzy, I’m so sorry to bother you. Can we get a little more light on stage left?”

“What do I look like, an electrician?”

“No, but the electrician snuck into one of the dancer’s dressing rooms, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”

Mimzy sighed as Alastor turned to the source of the voice. “I’ll get right on it, Princess,” she groused before disappearing.

And there she was. The Heir to the Throne of Hell. What had Alastor been expecting? Someone dressed like Lucifer, probably, a mess of over-the-top vaudevillian aesthetic and an extremely untrustworthy face. And yet somehow, that horrible cretin had helped to birth the most beautiful creature Alastor had ever laid his eyes on. Even if it had just been the classy black dress, the diamonds in a cascading pattern down her neck, the silver apple tiara atop her blond hair styled in a gorgeous updo...all that would have been more than enough to catch Alastor’s attention, but then...

“Charlie. Please.” She said it like it was one of a thousand times she had insisted. And although Mimzy was already gone, her ears perked at Alastor.

Her slightly furry, tear-drop shaped ears, and a tail turned up behind her where the dress had been perfectly cut to let it out.

Another demon just like him. No, not just like him. A doe.

“Well,” he greeted with a low bow. “I’m glad I won’t be making that mistake. I will never call you by a name that is not your preference, my dear.”

She giggled into her hand, covered by a long opera glove that matched the black of her dress. “I appreciate it. And you must be Alastor. Unless you prefer ‘the Radio Demon’?”

Oh, she was a quick one. Not that Alastor was ever good at flying under the radar. “I would prefer ‘yours,’ actually.”

That got an even darker blush from her already-rosy cheeks. Her tail twitched a little bit. “That’s a title that comes with many responsibilities, Alastor,” she said through a little smile, clearly trying to keep up with him.

“Where do I send my resume, darling, because I’m always looking for a job with better benefits.”

“Well, you certainly know how to dress to impress.” Charlie bit her lip as she glanced at him up and down. Alastor knew when he was being sized up, and he let her take him in, knowing already that she was having the same response to him as he had to her. You’re someone like me, her eyes said. After so long.  

“Maybe in this case,” he said quietly, stepping in close to her. “I should have left the suit at home. After all, you should dress for the job you want, shouldn’t you?”

Charlie leaned in. This close, he could see all the soft strands of fur on her ears, the pink inside. He wanted so, so much to touch them, but...not yet. There would be time and privacy for that yet. “I’d really like to continue this interview,” she whispered, “but as you can see I have a revue to oversee.”

“After, then,” he said, slipping her hand into his and cradling it. So small. Delicate. “I have a tower with an extremely quaint office overlooking the city. It’s quite comfortable, you’ll find.”

She nodded, voice breathless. “After.”

---

Charlie let Alastor take her home. If anything, Alastor thought he noticed her speed up a bit through her acknowledgements and post-show credits, now and then glancing his way. Nobody else would notice, but he could see the way her tail was flashing, how she wanted to run.

Run to him, no less.

And she did, in the huge fluffy stole that she had worn on stage after her act when her dress had been taken off and then pulled back on only as a skirt, her pale skin just showing though her breasts were hidden. He had never driven himself faster back to his Radio Tower.

The only person down in the “lobby” was Husk, and he was playing a computerized slot machine that he had won in a game with Alastor (though to be fair, Alastor let him win, because otherwise he threatened to leave altogether, and one piece of infernal technology was payment enough for service he could count on).

“Don’t wait up, Husker-chum,” he said, Charlie on his arm.

“Why the fuck would I literally ever care what you are do...do...” He trailed off in that moment. Husk had looked up momentarily from the game, catching a glance at Charlie, and his mouth just stayed in that same ‘o’ until they were in the elevator. Then, as though realizing that the moment Charlie went upstairs with Alastor it would all be over, he fell over himself running toward the quickly-closing doors. “Hey, what’s the rush?!” he asked hastily. “Let’s hang out! The night’s young! We can get some drinks or hit a bar or--” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the doors refused to open, even as he hit the button. “I’m not always great with sharing,” he said as Charlie was quietly laughing into the fur around her neck.

“Good,” she said, dropping the wrap to the red floor. She stood before him now with nothing but diamonds from the waist up, blinking at him bashfully despite the fact that she was the one who had made this quite-forward, more-than-brazen move. In the mirrored wall of the elevator, he could see her tail, soft and twitching just so. Now, now he did reach out to caress it, to run his long fingers through it. She shivered and instinctively huddled close to him. “So what were you saying about your qualifications before?”

As much as he had planned to continue their little tete-a-tete, it was hard to manage at the sight of her so natural. He pulled her out of the elevator when they reached the top floor and made quick work of getting her out of the rest of the dress. He dragged his mouth across her thigh, the little freckles there looking like the same pattern on young does.

At some point, his antlers sprang from his head, creaking slightly like branches over them, and when she sprang to his boudoir, he didn’t know how she would respond to his coming up from behind her, grabbing her waist and pressing in tight and close where she could feel the bulge in his pants.

He didn’t think she would moan and raise her tail to him, inviting him inside.

It wasn’t the only way they would have one another that night, but it was the most intense. The most instinctive, the best and only way he could imagine fucking in this form of his that he had gained. They didn’t speak, not even each other’s names, and yet he felt like he had known her for eternity before that, and that she wasn’t some mysterious woman that had just happened to fall into his life.

They didn’t even kiss until that first round was over, when she was gasping and clutching at the covers of his four-post bed, and he had nuzzled her face until it met his.

“I think,” she said softly, sometime quite a while later, her head on his chest, gold hair now free and messy all over his sheets, “we might have a position available for you.”

“Only one?” he teased as he rolled her onto her back and came back down to kissing her neck.

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 212: The Bumblebee Flies Anyways

Yang looked at Blake, reading her book on her bed. "You know?.." Yang voiced, and waited for Blake to look at her over her book, "I've been thinking..." With this Blake put her thumb in her book and lowered it. "The Vytal festival hits full force on Monday, so why don't you and me paint the town red, just the two of us. Maybe with less fighting this time."

Blake rolled her eyes and looked pensively at her, before nodding.

* * *

The gates to the club flew open, with Yang standing there, Blake shyly behind her. The goons at the club started to rush towards her, uncertain about what they were going to do. "Blondie!" Junior shouted at her as he approached the door, and she just glared at him. "Sir." he replied. "What do we owe... the pleasure?.."

"Me and the kitty cat were looking to have some fun."

Blake wasn't sure how to react to that. It was diminuative, but somehow found it endearing.

"Meaning?.." Junior asked.

"Relax." Yang stated, "We're just looking for a place where we don't have to watch our backs."

"And you picked MY club?" Junior asked, and Yang glared at him once again. "Sir." he stated.

"The enemy of my enemy," Yang stated, and reached her hand out low, "gets his balls crushed if he crosses me? I find that refreshing. Now, I'm sure you won't mind comp'ing our drinks and letting us girls have a bit of a night, now do you?"

"Whatever you say, Sir." Junior replied.

"Yangin'." Yang stated.

"Just try to keep the explosions to a minimum." Junior stated, and turned to walk away, "It's bad for business."

"I promise to be on my best behaviour." Yang replied.

"Very... reassuring..." Junior stated, and walked up to the bar. He leaned over to speak to the bartender, "These lovely ladies drink free tonight."

"Whatever you say, Boss." the bar tender replied.

Junior then pointed at another goon, "You, get my captains!" he shouted.

Yang grabbed Blake's hand and pulled her to a table. "Just sit pretty, and I'll get us some drinks." Blake wanted to frown, but found herself smiling instead. She still couldn't believe she agreed to this.

* * *

Junior stood in the back room with his captains, "I want EVERYONE, EVER - SINGLE - ONE of my boys knows to be as polite and helpful to the girls as they can. Maybe this time we can avoid an incident."

"Yes, Boss." the captains all replied.

* * *

Yang returned with a couple cocktails and placed one in front of Blake. She sat down on the bench and slipped in beside her. "I know we're underage, but..."

"We don't have... underage... in Kuo Kuana..." Blake voiced.

"Shit?" Yang said, "Wait, I mean... really?.."she eagerly asked.

In reply Blake developed a wide smile, "You don't have to censor yourself for me..." she voiced, "but no, it's up to your parents. Once they think you're old enough to start drinking, you can. Even young kids might be given small drinks."

"Kind of makes me wish..." Yang voiced, and Blake glared at her. "What, you grew up there, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"It is... beautiful... and... there's a stronger sense of community than the kingdoms... but that's because we're poor." Blake stated. "We don't have the luxury of living our own lives."

"Implying Patch is all that well off..." Yang voiced, and took a sip, "I mean, we call it Patch..."

Blake smiled and took a sip. "You are... hardly the most sophisticated girl on the team..."

"Okay... I mean..." Yang quietly replied, "comparing me to Weiss is just unfair..."

"Weiss is beautiful, elegant, but containted." Blake voiced, "You're more of a badass babe."

"I can't believe you said that." Yang giddly said.

"It's from the Spruce Willis movie." Blake stated, and took a sip.

"Wait?," Yang asked, "you think I'm that much of a babe?"

"Of course you are." Blake stated. "Babe is probably the only way to describe you... other than maybe firecracker..."

This caused Yang to snicker. "That's what my uncle always calls me..."

"Then that's something we can both agree on." Blake said with glee. "I'm sure Junior would agree." she said much more loudly as he passed their table.

"I'm not sure what I would call her." he muttered.

"What was that?" Yang asked.

"Nothing, Sir." he replied as he walked away. This caused the two girls to snicker.

"And what's the story with that?" Blake asked.

"I didn't like the way he called me Blondie." Yang said, and shrugged.

"That's it?" Blake asked.

"Uh-huh?" Yang asked, "Like you don't have a mysterious past." With this Blake dropped her head. In return, Yang wrapped her arm around her, pulling her close. "Easy..." Yang voiced, "We all love you. We know you have a lot you don't want to talk about, and we're cool with it. IFFFFF you tell us when you need help." Blake groaned an weak affirmative, and Yang kissed her on the top of her head. "We... all love you..." Yang headily repeated.

"I... know you do..." Blake voiced, "but... my past..." and in reply Yang once again kissed her on the top of the head. Blake, in turn, was content in Yang's warmth...

* * *

Blake and Yang sat up against each other and the fountain in front of Beacon, still drunk from earlier in the night, just enjoying each other's presence, the night, and the stars above.

* * *

Two tall shadows appeared by the fountain, approaching the pair of unconcious girls. The larger shadow picked up the larger girl, while the slightly smaller shadow picked up the smaller girl.

* * *

Jaune kissed Yang on her forehead as he hoisted her up to her bed.

"Daddy?" Yang asked, causing Jaune to pause, nearly dropping her. He caught her. Yang wrapped her arms around his neck, and he was completely unsure of what to do. Pyrrha kissed Blake on the forehead before tucking her into bed. She stepped up to Jaune and stood shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Hush, sweet thing." Pyrrha said to her and kissed her on the forehead. She then started lifting her up and the two of them helped her into bed.

"Sweet dreams." Jaune's deep voice stated.

"Night, mommy..." Yang voiced, "night, daddy..."

Jaune looked Pyrrha in the eyes, and she smiled at him in the dim light. She nodded her head away towards the door.

* * *

Yang woke up with a start, looking at the ceiling. "What... the hell... happened last night?.."

"Something about mommy and daddy." Weiss stated, as she preened herself up in front of the mirror.

Yang sat up with a start. "You're shitting me, right? Ha-ha. Quite the joke?"

"I heard it too." Ruby said as she looked out the window.

"What?" Yang asked, "Who?"

"Now, who else would corral and pair of our teammates, drunk, passed out somewhere?" Weiss asked.

"Jaune?" Yang asked.

"And... mommy?.." Blake asked.

"Shit." Yang stated, "Who in the hell did I call mommy?! Was it one of you?"

"To the best of my knowledge," Weiss stated, "no."

"Then..." Blake voiced, "who's the most likely to accompany him."

"I don't know," Yang stated, "they're all kind of big on him. Well, he is pretty big, you know, especially with the horns."

"Antlers." Weiss stated.

"Oh, man... I am way too hung over for you to be Weissing me..." Yang voiced.

"What-what-what?!" Weiss asked.

"You can be pretty Weissy." Ruby said to her.

"I can what?!" Weiss asked, "I do, suppose... can I?.."

"I think about it totally different after what Jaune said." Ruby continued.

"And... if I might ask?.." Weiss nervously voiced.

"That you nag because you care." Ruby stated.

"Aww... Weiss loves us..." Yang voiced, and then winced with pain, holding her head. "Way too hung over. Junior was comp'ing our drinks."

"Blake doesn't seem to mind." Ruby stated.

"That's because they let us drink early in Menagerie." Blake stated, "It's stops us from binge drinking, like..."

"Yeah... yeah..." Yang stated. "One hell of a night."

"Enough for us to get saved by our big, strong buck." Blake replied.

"Hart." Weiss said, "At least, that's how he refers to himself."

"I know what I said." Blake somberly stated.

"I think this calls for a group run." Ruby joked, only to get hit by a pillow thrown by Yang. "Oh, sweet, a pillow. Now my bed will be so cozy."

"Stop..." Yang weakly said.

"What was that, Yang?" Ruby asked.

"Pillow..." Yang grumbled.

"I honestly don't know where it came from..." Ruby voiced.

"Pillow..." Yang begged, and Weiss stood up and walked to the centre of the room.

"Perhaps some coffee?"

"I don't know if I should punch you or kiss you?.." Yang voiced.

"The latter would probably be perferable." Blake stated.

"Just for that..." Yang tiredly said, "I'll kiss the lot of you."

"Promise?" Blake asked. Yang looked at Ruby who was dangling the pillow from her hands, almost like she was offering it up to Yang. She wasn't, of course.

"Ah, just leave me be..." Yang said, and rolled back over, trying to sleep sans pillow.

"Unfortunately, we don't want your clock to be miss-set for Monday." Weiss stated.

"That's a whooolleeee daaay aawaaayyy..." Yang grumbled. "Tired." she pleaded.

"Then perhaps you can get to bed at a decent time tonight." Weiss replied.

"Augh." Yang exclaimed, and sat back up, looking at Weiss. "You promised me coffee.

"Post-haste!" Weiss exclaimed.

* * *

Note:  Season 3 starts next Wednesday.

[nitewrighter]

Across the Amanogawa

A Short McHanzo/Gency Ficlet for Tanabata!!

...I miss festivals. Do you guys miss festivals?

(Yes I know it’s very overdue for 7/7 but Tanabata can be celebrated as late as August so ssshhhh )

-----

It was a muggy evening, made muggier by the steam drifting up from all the matsuri stands. The murmur of the crowd thrummed against the distant screech of cicadas. All the colors of the festival, the streamers, the senbazuru, and the kusudama all seemed to fold together into a rainbow kaleidoscope arcing over the crowd under the yellow-white glow of the strings of lanterns overhead. McCree and Hanzo stood near the festival’s main gate, and Hanzo rolled his fingers on his arm as he scanned the crowd again. McCree stood next to him, also scanning the crowd, but also frequently feeling at his hair. 

“You sure I don’t look like a tourist?” said McCree, glancing down at his clothes. The red and white ichimatsu patterning on his yukata reminded Hanzo a bit of old-fashioned picnic blankets or the gingham tablecloths of Italian restaurants, but it suited McCree well. Hanzo’s own yukata was a blue and yellow yabane pattern, and despite being more covered than usual, he felt... smaller. More vulnerable. McCree kept complaining that he felt naked without the hat but Hanzo felt naked without a quiver on his back.

“You’re over six feet tall in Japan. You’re going to look like a tourist no matter what,” said Hanzo, clearly tense. He felt McCree look over at him and caught himself, “But... there are plenty of tourists and the point is blending in,” said Hanzo, still scanning the crowd. The presence of other tourists and Omnics meant that at least they had a better chance at getting through the night without anyone recognizing them, but it had still taken Hanzo a good 45 minutes to convince McCree to leave the hat behind. 

“I thought the point was having fun?” said McCree.

“It is--” said Hanzo, breaking his eyes away from the crowd, “It... it is.”

“If you want to bail, I’m sure Genji and Merce would be totally fine with--”

“No,” said Hanzo, “I... it’s been a long time since I let myself do anything like this.”

“Look, even if you had any folks here, I’m pretty sure they aren’t interested in a fight--not today, anyway,” said McCree.

“Mm,” Hanzo tried to let this reassurance sink in past all his mental defenses. Key word, tried.

“Jesse!” a clear voice cut through the murmur of the crowd and Hanzo watched as a blonde flamelike ponytail bobbed through the crowd. McCree stuck a hand up in a wave and Hanzo instantly went on high alert for anyone who might have been keeping an eye on them. After apparently weaving through the crowd as quickly albeit convolutedly as possible, Genji and Mercy stepped in front of them, their fingers interlaced together. Genji was donning a green headband and black cloth face mask, a few of his scars peeking out from underneath both, but they had clearly coordinated their yukatas, with Genji wearing a green yukata with a yellow obi, and Mercy wearing a yellow yukata with a green obi.

“You made it!” said Genji.

“We made it here before you,” said Hanzo, flatly.

“Yes--well...” Genji rubbed the back of his head.

“We got a little sidetracked,” said Mercy.

“Code for, ‘The watchpoint called and someone’s bleedin’ out so you had to coach Brigitte through it over vid-chat?’” guessed McCree.

“Nothing that dire!” said Mercy, “...at least she didn’t make it sound that dire...” she trailed off with concern.

“Angela,” Genji bumped his shoulder against hers playfully and she seemed to snap out of it.

“Oh! I’m sure it’s fine,” she said with a wave.

Fine, the word set Hanzo on edge. “Did you two make sure you weren’t followed?” he said on reflex.

“We weren’t followed,” said Genji, perfectly patiently. 

“Are you sure?” the words came out of Hanzo as a flinch.

“We’re sure,” said Genji.

“We’ve been on plenty of missions together, Hanzo,” said Mercy, “You know we’d call it off or call it in if something felt wrong.”

“Right,” said Hanzo, “Right.” Now he felt awkward for unconsciously trying to drag the mood down to his level. 

“So relax!” said Genji, “If you keep worrying, I’m going to beat you for all the prizes! I promised Angela I’d win her one of those giant Pachimaris at the ring toss booth.”

“..and I told him I had no idea where we would fit something like that in our apartment,” said Mercy with a wry smile.

“It’s about the principle,” said Genji.

“And the fried food,” said McCree looking over at one of the food stalls.

“Oh! Takoyaki! We have to make sure to grab some before the fireworks show!” said Genji.

“And get our wishes in, too,” said Mercy.

“But first, prizes,” said Genji, hooking his arm in Mercy’s and walking through the festival gates.

“Sounds like a full docket to me,” said McCree, walking after them with Hanzo in tow. Mercy and Genji walked a few feet ahead of them. They were leaning against each other as they moved through the crowd. Hanzo glanced down at McCree’s hand trailing lazily at his side. Hanzo wondered if he should take McCree’s hand. He wanted to take McCree’s hand, but at the same time was having a bit of a mental block with the ‘public’ part of public displays of affection. Genji made it look natural, having always been a bit of a playboy, but now it felt... deeper. More tentative, more about actual affection than flouting the clan’s conservative practices. Hanzo gave another glance down at McCree’s hand. If he took it, would he be taking it because he wanted to prove to himself he could? Sure he wanted to, but he and McCree already knew how he felt, so who was there to prove it to? Genji? With his back turned? 

“Look at ‘em, all matchy... why didn’t we coordinate?” said McCree, snapping Hanzo out of his train of thought.

Hanzo shot McCree an incredulous look and McCree snorted.

“I’m kidding,” he said, smiling and he took Hanzo’s hand. Hanzo’s arm tensed at the shoulder. 

“You okay?” said McCree, immediately picking up on that tension.

I’m fine, thought Hanzo, In fact, I am so fine I was going to take your hand first. Because I can do that. Because I’m capable of that. Because I can show affection to someone without worrying the world is suddenly going to explode around me and rip it all away. But you took my hand first so it’s your fault that I tensed up and--what is wrong with me.

“Yes,” said Hanzo, blankly.

McCree huffed a little.

“I can have fun,” said Hanzo, “I am having fun.”

“That’s it, partner, just like Zen says, speak that shit into existence!” said McCree with a teasing grin on his face.

Hanzo half-scoffed half-chuckled. “You’ve made your point.”

“Look, you take it as slow as you need, all right?” said McCree, “And if you ain’t feelin’ it, you ain’t feelin’ it--we can go anytime you need. I mean, yeah the wishing thing is cute, but it ain’t like we don’t have fried food and overpriced rigged games over in the states.” He gestured with his chin over at Genji and Mercy, both apparently lost in their own conversation. “Those two can take care of themselves.”

“The games aren’t rigged,” said Hanzo with a sharp smirk, “Most of them are absurdly easy and aimed at children. Do Americans enjoy swindling children?”

“Oh it’s right up there with apple pie,” said McCree, “You ever hear of a snipe hunt?”

“’Snipe’ hunt?” said Hanzo.

“Not ‘snipe’ like sniper, it’s a bird--except not really, because there ain’t a bird, you’re just sending a kid off to look for it.”

“...for a nonexistent bird,” said Hanzo. 

“For me though, it was a jackalope,” said McCree, “You ever see one of those taxidermy rabbits with the antlers? When I was a kid, Billie told me they only came out on Saturday mornings, so I’d spend every Saturday trompin’ around, lookin’ for ‘em. Didn’t realize until later that this premium Jackalope-spotting time conveniently coincided with when she’d be hung over.” 

Hanzo chuckled. “I actually did that to Genji several times when we were boys, except it was Tsuchinoko.”

“What’s Tsuchinoko?”

“A fat snake,” said Hanzo.

“A fat snake? No wings or horns or anything? Just a fat snake?”  

“Just a fat snake. Whenever Genji was annoying me, I would say, ‘Oh Genji, I saw the Tsuchinoko in the west garden’ or wherever was conveniently far away from me, and he would sprint for it.” 

McCree snorted, then suddenly paused and glanced up from Hanzo, “...shit. Did you see where they went?”

“Look for the ponytail,” said Hanzo.

“The pony--Oh,” McCree spotted a blond ponytail over the heads of the crowd at one of the stalls, “Good rule of thumb....Is that the ring toss?”

“...knowing Genji, they could be there a while,” said Hanzo.

“I could win you something,” said McCree with a grin.

“You won me that ridiculous plush back in Blizzard World,” said Hanzo with a slight eye roll.

“You love that plush,” said McCree, “Or you could win me something.”

“Do you want an oversized plush?”

“Eh, nah,” said McCree with a shrug. 

Hanzo glanced back at Genji and Mercy, laughing and chatting at the booth. “Dare we disrupt the sanctity of the double date?” he asked with self-effacing faux gravitas.

McCree snickered. “Well, we got the comms. We can say we lost ‘em in the crowd, call ‘em up when it’s time to grab some grub. They got sake here?” said McCree, looking around.

“I thought you liked more bite to your liquor?” said Hanzo, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, when in Rome, right?” said McCree.

-----

Mercy leaned against the side of the booth and lazily flicked at her consolation prize pinwheel as Genji squinted with concentration at the rows of bottles in the ring toss booth.

“My aim is unerring,” she said, trying to imitate the dramatic depth of Genji’s voice.

“I’ve got it, I swear,” said Genji, tossing a ring and having it bounce off the back corner bottle.

“Mm-hmm.”

 “The problem is muscle memory.”

“I’m sure.”

“If these were shuriken I would have gotten you the prize on the first try.” 

“Of course.”

“...you’re enjoying this.”

“A little bit,” Mercy grinned before scanning the crowd. “Hanzo and McCree have definitely ditched us, though.”

“Because Hanzo knows I’ll beat him,” said Genji, sending another ring bouncing off the back row of bottles.

“Of course, dear,” said Mercy with a smirking head tilt. 

Genji turned his head to shoot her a ‘You’re killing me’ look but almost instantly melted at the smug look on her face. She looked relaxed--the most relaxed he had seen her in a while. With all the work they had to do with Overwatch, getting out like this was rare, and it had been even longer since they really had time alone together since Hanzo had come to the Watchpoint. Despite her dislike of Hanzo and her wariness of the whole situation, she had saintlike patience with how much time he was pouring into trying to help his brother. Hanzo’s relationship with McCree had lightened the load considerably, but still, even tonight was, in some ways, yet another exercise in trying to get Hanzo used to being around people again.

“Genji?” she tilted her head and Genji blinked a few times, snapping back to the moment. 

“Sorry--” Genji caught himself and rubbed the back of his neck,  “I just... I’m really glad you’re out here with me tonight.”

“Well... that’s what summer’s for, right?” said Mercy, smiling, “Fireworks, fried food, clearly rigged games...”

“If I say it’s rigged that’s admitting defeat,” said Genji, folding his arms, “But--I mean... thank you. For sticking with me through... all this messiness these past few months.”

“Messiness?” said Mercy.

“I know Hanzo coming back was hard on you, but I’m really glad you trusted my judgment with him. And I’m really glad he’s on the team now.”

Mercy’s expression softened. “It... it was hard at first. I can’t tell you how scared I was that he might hurt you again but...” she looked down, “I thought about it, and... even though I know your situation is a lot more complicated, if I ever got a chance to save my family...” she trailed off.

“Angela...” Genji started but was cut off by a swell of noise from the festival crowd.

“What’s going on?” said Mercy craning her neck slightly when suddenly a massive glittering hologram of an orange goldfish swooped over the crowd, “Woah!”

“I heard the omnics in this region put on an interesting procession,” said Genji, pulling away from the booth slightly as three more giant hologram goldfish, white, yellow, and spotted, joined it, bobbing over the main avenue of the festival. Mercy’s eyes caught the light of the projectors in a puff of steam off one of the tents, and saw several Omnics in headbands and happi coats with spotlight-like faces placed at strategic points around the festival. The crowd oohed as the goldfish suddenly swam upward and then arced downward, suddenly disappearing in a splash of blue pixels meant to signify water, but the gold of their scales lingered among the blue and the pixels spiraled upward into holograms of stars, laying out over the festival crowd.

“The Amanogawa,” said Genji.

“Celestial river, right?” said Mercy, watching smaller versions of the hologram goldfish from earlier weave through the hologram stars, “Like the milky way.”

“The same,” said Genji.

“So the story goes... there’s two lovers on either side of the river, right?” said Mercy. As she spoke, a new hologram projection emerged further down the river of stars, a woman, clothed in brightly colored and complexly patterned cloth, she was cartoony and a little doll- or puppet-like in movements, but her hair trailed behind her almost as river-like as the stars. Another projection on the opposite side appeared, a man in plainer clothes, but still those somewhat puppet-like movements. It somehow lent a more organic feel to the whole show. 

“Orihime and Hikoboshi,” said Genji, “The story goes, they were deeply in love,” as he spoke brightly colored streams of light flowed off of the Orihime hologram, and Mercy realized they were supposed to represent cloth flying off in different directions, “But that love distracted Orihime from her prized weaving, and it made Hikoboshi let his cows loose all over the heavens,” Mercy glanced down to see several children laughing as they chased after a cow hologram, the bell around its neck clanking as it trotted ahead of them, “So they were separated, and they could only meet on the seventh day of the seventh month, but when they got there, there was no bridge.”

“So there was a bird bridge!” said Mercy as black and white bird holograms swept over the starry river in an arc, allowing the two figures to race across them and meet in the middle. “Swallows?”

“Magpies,” said Genji. Even with the mask on she could see his smile pushing at the corners of his eyes, “They say if the festival gets rained out, it’s the tears of the lovers.”

Mercy snorted. “Good to know even Celestial beings can have a rough time with long distance relationships,” she said, smiling.

“Yeah...” said Genji. Mindlessly he slipped his hand into Mercy’s and gave a small squeeze. 

“Did you--” Mercy started.

“You know--” Genji started at the same time and they both caught themselves  and chuckled a little.

“...you go first,” said Genji.

“I was going to ask, when we were writing letters to each other,” Mercy pushed her hair back, “Did it remind you of them?” she nodded her head back at the two holograms of Orihime and Hikoboshi embracing.

Genji snorted, “And I was about to say, ‘You know when we were writing letters, I thought of them as our magpie bridge,’” his face was a million times easier to read with a cloth face mask rather than the usual plating, so Mercy definitely picked up a smirk, “But then again it’s easy to think of you as a celestial goddess.” 

Mercy scoffed, rolled her eyes, and bumped her shoulder into his, but also took that as an opportunity to lean against him as the whole hologram display dissolved into stars dissolving into pixels as the crowd clapped. “Flatterer,” she muttered.

“You love it,” said Genji.

“I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

“Okay fine I do.” 

Genji snickered.

“...do we still have time to write our wishes?” said Mercy, watching as the Happi-clad hologram-projecting Omnics found each other in the crowd and high-fived. 

“Oh! We should get on that!” said Genji. 

“Uh...” the booth owner piped up, “You still have three rings.”

Genji glanced down at the rings on the counter of the booth, held them out in offering to Mercy, who shook her head with a smile and a hand wave. Genji shrugged and tossed all three at once in his ‘fan of blades’ motion...and caught three bottles.

“...I planned that,” said Genji.

“You did not,” said Mercy as the booth owner handed Genji a Yachemon plush.

-----

The festival lights had dimmed to spheres of gold and red and pink and green in the corners of Hanzo’s vision as he knocked back another saucer of sake.

“And--” he bunched up his shoulders, “I think... I think what... what I hate the most--”

“Mm-hmm,” McCree was resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on the bar, nodding along with him.

“What I hate the most is... apologizing for things... that I keep doing, you know?” said Hanzo.

“Mm-hmm,” McCree knocked back his own saucer of sake.

“Because... when you apologize for something, I’m pretty sure all parties agree that... that the thing is not going to happen again, correct?” 

“Weeellllllll....” McCree glanced off and trailed off as his voice pitched to a near country singer whine with that single word, “I mean... yeah. That’s what you wanna happen.”

“So I’m... I say, ‘This will not happen again’ and it happens again, you know?” said Hanzo.

“Healin’ ain’t always linear,” said McCree, shooting him a finger gun.

“And people keep saying that!” said Hanzo, “I want to stop doing the thing, I don’t like doing the thing, that’s why I apologized for it, but then it happens again and I have to apologize for it, again.”

“I think what’s hard on you also is... becomin’ more conscious of this shit, right?” said McCree, “Like you’re lookin’ at yourself more, and you’re looking at your first reactions to shit, and you’re like, ‘What the hell, that ain’t normal.’”

“YES!” Hanzo flinched at how loudly he said it before clearing his throat, “I mean... yes.” 

McCree snickered. “I love you,” he said, his face creasing with his smile and with the pressure of his palm on his face.

“I am drunkenly ranting about how I continue to be a problem and how even I can barely stand myself at this point,” said Hanzo, flatly.

“Uh-huh,” said McCree, “And I love you.”

“Ugh,” Hanzo glanced off.

“...you know what I think, about good people?” said McCree.

“What do you think about good people?” said Hanzo, settling in his seat.

“I think... a big part of what makes a good person... is knowing when you’re at your worst,” said McCree. 

“Well, lucky for you I am always at my worst,” said Hanzo, attempting to play off his drunkenness as a cavalier attitude, but McCree clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I mean...knowing when the pain is leaking outta you and bleedin’ into other people, people you love. You’ve been shoulderin’ your own pain for so long, Hanzo, you can tell instantly when someone else is trying to pick up that load, and that scares you, because you think ‘They don’t deserve it,’ or ‘They shouldn’t have to do that,’ but you face that shit! Because you’re the bravest guy I know! So I guess what I’m sayin’ is... I’m glad t’be here for you like this. And... and I’m glad you don’t have to carry it alone.” 

“Jesse...” Hanzo trailed off but both McCree and Hanzo flinched as hologram goldfish suddenly illuminated the crowd behind them.

“...The hell is that?” said McCree as they both turned around.

“The epic love story of Orihime and Hikoboshi,” said Hanzo with a dismissive hand wave, “Which probably means it’s getting dark enough for the fireworks. Didn’t you say you wanted some fried food?”

“Fuck yeah I did!” said McCree.

-----

The delicate green leaves of the bamboo were almost completely drowned out by the raucous rainbow of tanzaku colors, rendered practically glowing themselves by the fairy lights hung on the wooden frames supporting the bamboo. 

“It’s been years since I’ve done this,” Genji chuckled under his breath as he wrote on his tanzaku.

“Well you’re bound to have plenty of wishes then,” said Mercy.

“More like plenty of people I want to thank,” said Genji, “You, Zenyatta, McCree, Hanzo... There’s probably a lot to wish for, but I’m also really grateful for where I am, now.”

Mercy leaned over and kissed him on his ear and he glanced up from the slip of paper to her and grinned. She glanced down at his tanzaku and snickered a little. It was a simple ‘Thank you’ tanzaku but with hearts and stars and little rabbit faces doodled in the margins.

“Cute,” said Mercy, bumping her shoulder against his.

“Everyone else made theirs cute! I don’t want to have a plain one!” said Genji, “What did you write?” he glanced over at hers which was practically illegible, “Doctor handwriting strikes again...” he murmured.

“It’s because I don’t have a flat surface to write on!” said Mercy, 

“Mm-hmm,” said Genji, squinting to read at the cursive, “I wish for... ‘Mon...dag...ott?’

“’More days off like this,’” said Mercy, “...though granted, that feels like a really lazy wish considering so many of these wishes are to get a promotion or do well in school...”

Genji leaned his head on hers. “It’s a wish you deserve,” he said.

“Hey! Ponytail!” a voice called out from the crowd and Mercy glanced up.

“Ponytail?” said Mercy as McCree pushed through the crowd, a tray of takoyaki in hand. Hanzo pushed through the crowd after him, also holding a takoyaki tray. There was considerably more ease about them now than earlier, a clear flush and stupid grin on both their faces.

“There you guys are! Man, didn’t even have to call you!” said McCree, he proudly held up a small cardboard tray of takoyaki, “We come bearing gifts.”

“Oh Jesse,” said Mercy, “You shouldn’t have!”

“Well the lines are gettin’ long what with the fireworks startin’ soon,” said McCree, “So we figured we’d grab a tray for you guys, too.”

“We had best get going if we want to get a good seat--” Hanzo started when suddenly a small child darted underfoot and McCree narrowly stepped out of the way to keep the child from running full on into his legs.

“Hoo,” said McCree, “That was a close one--”

Another child, presumably chasing the first child, shoved past the back of McCree’s legs and McCree stumbled and the tray of takoyaki slipped from his hands and landed with a tragic ‘splat’ on the pavement.

“Takoyaki noooooo...” McCree’s voice pitched up in a whimper as one of the festival cleanup crew members hastily moved in and scooped the ruined takoyaki into a trash bag. Jesse McCree had known much heartbreak in his years, but could anything compare to looking forward to hot fried food all night only to have fate cruelly tear it away from him?

“We still have time to get another tray before the fireworks start,” Hanzo said on reflex, “Angela--You and McCree go and secure us a spot, on the green, Genji and I will get the food.”

“I could go,” said McCree with a shrug, “I mean I dropped it...”

“Ponytail,” said Hanzo pointing at Mercy, “6 feet tall in Japan,” he said pointing at McCree.

“Ah, gotcha,” said McCree. 

“We’ll call each other if we can’t find you,” said Genji, “Come on.” He motioned to Hanzo.

-----

The large stretch of lawn designated as a firework viewing area was already crowded by the time Mercy and McCree arrived, but they managed to stake out a small spot at the base of a small hill. 

“So, you and Hanzo...” Mercy smirked at McCree as McCree poked at their one remaining tray of takoyaki, “How’s the first month of domestic bliss coming along?”

“He folds his socks. Who folds socks? But he says it doesn’t make the elastic wear out as fast and now he’s got me doin’ it. He’s ridiculous,” said McCree, leaning back with that stupid lovestuck grin on his face.

Mercy snorted. 

“Though really, I’m glad you warmed up to him,” said McCree.

“Well... to be honest, at this point I’m kind of relieved you’re together,” said Mercy.

“Mm? How d’ya mean?”

“Well, I suppose a part of me was always worried you would suddenly ‘up and hit that dusty trail,’” Mercy made an odd jerking movement with her elbows that was apparently supposed to indicate ‘cowboy’ but just made McCree snicker, “But... with Hanzo you seem more... settled.”

McCree huffed a chuckle, “Weird how that works out--He was on the run just as much as me, huh? Now we’re downright domesticated.”

“McCree, you are probably the least ‘domesticated’ person I know,” said Mercy with a wry grin.

“Praise be,” said McCree with a grin. He snickered, “What about the domestic bliss on your end, then?”

“Well it’s about the same,” said Mercy with a shrug, “It’s nice to have something stable to come home to in the midst of all of Overwatch’s work. Even if we are on the Watchpoint it.... it makes me feel like there’s a life outside the fight, you know? Nights like tonight, too...” she trailed off, looking up at what few stars were able to outshine the light pollution of the festival. 

“Has he popped the question yet?” 

Mercy visibly startled. “Jesse!” she said, blushing.

“I’m just sayin’, it took ten dang years for you two to properly hook up, and if it takes another ten dang years for him to put a ring on it, I’m egging your apartment,” said McCree.

“You are not,” said Mercy.

“Yeah no, probably not, you scare the shit out of me--but point stands!” said McCree.

“I don’t know--I mean, I like the idea of it--and I do think about it...a lot, but...” she sighed, “I guess I’m just scared Talon will somehow swoop in and ruin it like it ruins everything else.”

“...Talon ain’t ruinin’ tonight,” McCree offered.

“No... I suppose it isn’t,” said Mercy, smiling.

-----

“You know what I like about takoyaki?” said Genji, paying the cashier at the Takoyaki tent.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me no matter what my answer is,” said Hanzo. They both watched as the cook rapidly and skillfully pivoted and flipped the sizzling batter in the little divots of the pan. Poking pale butter-yellow speckled with purple octopus to gold to golden brown.

“What I like about takoyaki is that no matter how runny the batter looks, it always manages to find its way into being a perfect, round little ball. It takes patience and it takes focus, but at the end it’s like the food’s telling you ‘Everything’s going to be okay,’ you know?”

Hanzo gave Genji an odd look. “...perhaps you should leave the philosophizing to Zenyatta,” he said as the vendor handed Genji a new tray of takoyaki, just as beautiful and golden and smothered in sauce and katsuoboshi as the last one.

“Ha! Probably,” said Genji as they headed back, “Hey Hanzo?” 

“Yes?” 

Genji paused for a few seconds, “I’m really glad you came out here like this. I know it’s hard to let yourself relax but... last time we went to a Matsuri together was when we were kids. A couple years ago I never would have thought we would be here together again like this. It means a lot to me that you’re here now.”

“I’m... glad to be out here too,” said Hanzo.

A pause passed between them.

“So...” Hanzo started.

“So... what?” said Genji.

“I feel like that whole thing was building up to something,” said Hanzo.

“Oh--well, no, I just... really wanted to let you know that.”

“Genji...”

“Well, okay, there’s something I wanted to tell you, but we’re having such a good time tonight, I don’t want it to make the night weird--It’s not bad news! I think it’s really good news! I just... don’t want it to take over the night.”

“Well now that I know there is something I’m going to to be spending the rest of the night wondering what it is!” Hanzo chuckled, popping one of the takoyaki into his mouth.

Genji looked at Hanzo for a few seconds and his breath huffed in his mask at little as he smiled. “Okay then... It’s about Angela. I think I want to marry her,” said Genji, “Well---actually, no, I know I want to marry her. I’ve been--Are you okay!?” 

Hanzo had inhaled on reflex at the word ‘marry’, got some katsuoboshi caught in his throat, and managed to suppress the cough for all of 3 seconds before turning red and unceremoniously hacking into the crook of his elbow while struggling to keep his takoyaki tray upright.. “Fine--” he coughed, “I’m fine.” He swallowed. “Just---are--are you serious?”

“Yes,” said Genji, “And I know you’ve only known her a couple months but I’ve been thinking about this a long time and, well, we’re not getting any younger, and with the fight with Talon...” he huffed, “I don’t want the fight with Talon to be this thing that stands between us. I know you don’t trust my judgment--”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust your judgment,” said Hanzo.

Genji blinked. “Oh.”

“She’s intelligent, she’s kind, she’s brave, and she’s principled. I haven’t known her as long as you, that’s true, but anyone can see she brings out the best in you. And you bring out the (frankly terrifying) best in her. You have my full support,” said Hanzo. 

“I...” Genji started and then chuckled a little, “Wow, I... I had this whole thing prepared about how I wasn’t thinking with my dick anymore and how I know myself and how I didn’t care what you said and I was going to trust myself and follow my heart and...” His breath caught in his throat and his eyes were wet and shining.

“Genji, you’re my brother and I care about you, but if you start crying, you’re going to put me in a very awkward positio--” Hanzo cut himself off as Genji hugged him. He tried to return the embrace as best he could while holding a tray of takoyaki.

Genji pulled out of the embrace slightly. “Sorry--I know you aren’t used to that. They’re pretty big huggers, Overwatch.”

“I’m more used to it than you think. McCree--well--” Hanzo caught himself and cleared his throat, “In any case, I’m glad you found someone.”

Genji clapped his shoulder. “I’m glad you found someone, too.”

The two of them walked towards the grassy park area where the first few plumes of fireworks were already popping in bursts of pink.

“Ponytail,” said Genji.

Hanzo craned his neck slightly and saw Mercy’s hair caught in a burst of green light overhead. McCree caught them in the corner of his eye and waaved them over.

“...You’re not going to ask her tonight, are you?” said Hanzo as they walked over.

Genji snorted, “Are you kidding?”

“In my defense I’ve known you to be very impulsive,” said Hanzo. Genji just chuckled as they closed the distance to McCree and Mercy.

[whumpqin]

Broken

This hurt me to write. But it would not stop haunting me until I finished it. So now you all have to hurt, too. I’m sorry, thank you for your sacrifice /pensive emoji

Elisha / Caleb tag: @faewhump @imagination1reality0 @galaxywhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @insanitywishes (if you’d like to be added just ask!)

CW: Dissociation, pet whump, referenced past abuse, referenced past trauma, referenced past torture, begging for pain (ish), broken whumpee, deconditioning, dubcon kissing, teeny dubcon reference, emotional and psychological whump in general, and maybe some other things that I missed! lmk if I need to tag something

Word Count: 1,762

There are two people that make up his entire world.

The first is his Master, who took care in binding his wounds and hushed him even when he had committed the greatest sin of his life. He had forgiven him and gave him a purpose when he had none left. Caleb wished he could love him, and couldn’t remember why he wasn’t able to.

The second was his Sir, who held him and soothed him when he cried and apologised wordlessly on the worst nights. He was much different than he remembered, lenient and kind in place of perfection, refusing kisses that he would once accept gladly. It was confusing, but it was Caleb’s Sir. He would never question him.

He loved them both. He couldn’t imagine doing anything without them.

Master had sat him down by the windowsill, allowing him to take care of the plants that sat there so that they wouldn’t wither and die. Caleb sat there, staring outside with a dull expression at one of the low hanging branches of the tree, swaying in the wind. 

Or maybe he thought he was staring. It felt like he was staring, but every time he tried to focus his mind went somewhere else, held underneath the waters of his head. All he could see was the low branch swaying in the wind over and over, like a record on repeat that he couldn’t reach out and stop. Instead, he was entranced by the way it moved.

He wished that he could move his limbs like that, back and forth the way some instinctual part of him knows how he’s supposed to move. But a long time ago he had given up trying to get them to do anything, instead letting his body move without provocation because there had been no point. His body knew how to be good.

When Caleb blinked slowly, everything outside had gone dark. Pitch black, and he could no longer see the tree branch swaying in the wind. Instead, he saw the dots of little stars. Holes in the prison.

The sound of something shifted, and his body lifted its head to see his Sir watching him from the lounge chair. Without even really processing the body moved closer while in a low crouch, settling onto its knees next to Sir and pushing its head forward into his lap. Sir’s hand held one of its horns, stopping its head from the motion.

The body’s mouth went slack, opening as several words to apologise rose to his head but didn’t come out. He couldn’t remember why it didn’t say anything, just that it couldn’t. Penance for its crimes, hushed to silence.

Pets don’t speak unless their Masters want them to, Caleb.

Instead, its one eye slowly drifted up to look at Sir’s neutral face. The two eyed each other; a pet with no commands and a Sir who wouldn’t give one.

“You’re not sitting on the floor,” he spoke, voice smooth. “Not if I have anything to say ‘bout it.”

The body blinked in response. Where was it to go then? It wasn’t allowed on the furniture or on the floor… should it stand? Reluctantly it drew away, standing straight up and looking down at Sir. Its hands drew behind its back, holding one wrist while it waited.

Sir stared at the body for a moment, some form of thought behind those eyes that Caleb couldn’t quite place. Ultimately it wasn’t up to him to ask questions, he was there to be a good pet and obey whatever they wanted from him. But then Sir sighed, and both Caleb and his body felt the immediate guilt stab him in the chest. He must have don’t something that displeased him, something that earned Sir’s disappointment. Something he needed to atone for.

The body must have had a similar idea, because its hands outstretched towards Sir from behind its back, forearms facing upwards. Silently asking for punishment that he needed.

After you’re punished, you do better.You be good, the thought bled into his mind, a voice that felt like his own but strangely foreign. It probably doesn’t help that he couldn’t remember what his own voice sounded like in the first place.

Sir’s hands brushed the body’s arms out of the way. “No, Caleb, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re not… look, it’s fine, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Caleb felt frustration prickle against the body’s skin, against both of their skins. It was confusing not to be hurt. Pain made everything feel real and it was normal. What did Sir want him to do? Neither him nor his body could figure it out and that was wracking his nerves worse than the anticipation of being hurt.

Sir sighed again and he felt- no, the body felt tears prick at the corner of its eye and not-eye. What was he doing wrong?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, um shit… uh… Caleb, come here. Come here, love.” His voice remained cool and smooth, turning a sickening sweet as Sir outstretched his arms, curling his fingers inwards to invite the body to come closer.

Obediently it moved forward, practically melting into Sir’s touch as it was moved into his lap. The body’s head curled into the crook of Sir’s neck as best as it could, their limbs tangling together so it could be held close. Both Caleb and the body sighed, the uncomfortable, frustrating prickling against his skin replaced with warmth and comfort.

The body sniffed, a muted whine seeping from its nose. A hand slowly began to draw itself against his side, and it leaned into the touch.

“Shh, it’s okay Caleb. It’s alright,” Sir soothed. Something bumped against the body’s horns, and Caleb realized it was Sir’s own pair of antlers rubbing against his. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I won’t do that, okay?”

Sir and Master were always saying that, even though they should. They should, and then things would go back to normal and they would hurt him and everything would be okay and there wouldn’t be blood everywhere and they would be fine. Everything needed to go back to normal and those antlers weren’t real they weren’t there because they couldn’t be.

Something was wrong in the body’s chest and Caleb couldn’t decide between grief or guilt. He figured that it must have been both.

He needed to fix this. Needed some kind of normal.

The body lifted its face on the thought. If it asked nicely, maybe it would get what it needed to be good. So that it could go back to being good and do better until it was hurt the next time.

It pressed its soft lips against Sir’s cheek, ignoring the tears and hitched breath, slowly beginning to trail alone Sir’s jawline. Sir tilted his head gently, until their lips met in a warm and inviting kiss. Begging for the relief it couldn’t give itself.

Sir pulled away too soon, replacing the touch with an unequal hand against the body’s face.

“Caleb…” he said, voice tense and filled with more emotion than Caleb could understand. “Who am I? Tell me, please.”

Permission. A simple gift of a command, even if it was short. The body’s mouth opened, fangs exposed even though he promised he wouldn’t bite, I’ll never bite again I promise Sir, and no sound came out, the words getting choked in its throat before they even had a chance. Because Sir taught it never to bare its fangs again. The last lesson it was ever taught and was still being taught because it hadn’t learned because there was still all of that blood-

“Caleb. Look at me. Look at me, love, I’m right here.” A thumb against the body’s cheek slowly began to rub in circles, pressing intermittently. “Who am I? You can speak. You can always speak to me. Just tell me who I am.”

The body couldn’t speak. Wasn’t allowed. Shouldn’t be allowed. But it had to because it had been given a command and there was punishment worse than death if it disobeyed. So it voted for the next best thing.

“Sir,” it breathed, voice raspy and in the form of a whisper, barely audible. 

Sir frowned and shook his head sadly. The body and Caleb’s heart sank. How could that be wrong?

“No, Caleb. It’s me, it’s Quinn, Remember? Quinn.” The body’s horns and the antlers bumped together again, making a quiet clacking noise. It shook its head. That wasn’t right, it couldn’t be right, because there was no way out. Master and Sir made sure of it this time, the body was never going to get out. A desperate sob, silent but still shaking the body, fell pitifully from its mouth. “Hey, I know, I know, shh… It’s okay, you’re safe, Caleb. You’re safe, don’t worry. We’ll take care of you. You’ll be okay.”

Safe. He was safe. The body was safe. Caleb could cling to that, he could forget about everything else and be safe, with his Master and Sir and not think because that’s not what pets do. The body’s breath hitched as it leaned into the hand against its cheek, trying to rub the dull ache in its chest away.

Sir hushed and soothed the body like he always did, a hand at his side and his cheek, running against skin in an attempt to calm.

“Hey, Quinn, food’s… ready.” His Master’s voice echoed into the room, and the body didn’t bother to raise its head. It only curled closer to Sir, nudging against his neck as Master’s footsteps came closer. “Is he… what happened?”

“I was just… he… Me and my fuckin’ big mouth, Om, that’s what. Doesn’t help he’s having a bad day, already. He thinks I’m that fucker.” A hand carded through the body’s hair, gripping tightly and sparking just enough pain to feel comforting. The body sighed in relief, as the hand continued to move through its hair. “...Can you bring our food out, hon? I’ll see if I can’t get ‘em to eat something.”

“Um, okay. Is it… should we stop him from-”

“I… don’t think so. It seems to soothe him, but…” Sir sighed, and the body whimpered on an instant response. “Listen, just go bring the food out, and we’ll talk about what to do from there, okay?”

Caleb could feel the body tremble as Master walked away without another word, as it curled inwards. One of its hands against its side, the other balled up and gripping onto its own hair.

[foulserpent]

Now Ned needs to write a Callout for xikeel

RESPONSE TO XIKEEL’S ACCUSATIONS

-It’s kind of low to bring out your dirty laundry in public like this, but you have killed dozens of people for an assassin cult. I just stole some shit. I’ve never committed murder. You have committed a lot of murders. 

-Yes, you are putting meat in my socks and shoes, you have threatened  to do that on several occasions. This isn’t a baseless accusation. I know it’s you. Who the fuck else around here would be doing that? It’s not “Martin going wild”. 

-I dont object to you stealing from the kitchens, but trying to pin this on me is ridiculous. I’ve been up there. I’ve seen all the forks.

-There’s a lot of other stuff you’re doing to mess with the Blades and I know damn well you’re doing it. I mean, I don’t mind, and you haven’t been pinning most of it on me. But just know I have kept a mental list and you can’t stop me from airing all that out if this continues. 

Heres some of your finest moments:

Stealing my stuff and putting it in high places.

Tying things to my antlers while I’m asleep.

Calling me slut, skank, thot, insufferable harlot, etc etc.

Throwing things at me from the rafters, aiming objects through my antlers. 

Saying “get his ass” when people are rude to me.

The time I was drunk and asked you to shoot apples off my head with your bow. I know that was stupid of me but as far as I’m aware you were sober and just did it anyway. 

Saying you want to cuddle with me because you’re cold and then you jab me with your horns while doing that. We’ve talked about this. I think you’re doing it intentionally. If you cant do that without giving me bruises, then bring a pillow. 

I TOLD YOU not to go to Shady Sam or buy anything from him and you DELIBERATELY went to Shady Sam and bought from him. I would let that just be your own bad decision but you then proceeded to give me one of the Shady Sam brand potions, without thinking to mention that you bought them from the literal worst guy in the Imperial City (who I specifically told you not to buy anything from) and created a really embarrassing situation for me.

That thing with the clannfear??? Really???????

i know for  a FACT you told that devil horse that it cant eat me but it’s allowed to be as menacing as it wants and I’m sick of it I cant take going out on a fucking smoke break and that beast is looking at me nonstop and doing that awful thing with its lips where it flaps them up so I can see its teeth 

Biting someone is a perfectly valid self defense method but is NOT appropriate for peer to peer training.