#go little changeling go

[bigfatbreak]

Something I've always been curious about with your amazing Changeling AU, can everyone see the transformations the changeling kids go through in the comics? Or is it like something only those with special eyes/some level of awareness of what the fae and changelings are can pick up on?

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[clarissasbakery]

obligatory pony posting

[lycantrin]

🎙️📢FRIENDSHIP ENDS IN 10 SECONDS📢🎙️

Bonus design for my TF2 MLP AU! Meet the Administrator for the mercenaries >:3c

[sentientsky]

Do you think Crowley is ever driving through a tunnel at night, carving a path through the heart of London?

And do you think he watches the lights blur past like atoms colliding in the emptiness of a space before time or reason or the fear of a steep fall?

And do you think he blinks, and in that moment—with the road rushing beneath him and the staccato flicker of light against his closed eyelids—he remembers what it felt like to hold the universe between two palms?

To set the gyroscope spinning—to become both creator and divine witness, a hand print pressed into the rough edge of a cave wall (I was here and here I shall remain)?

Do you think he remembers it all?

And do you think he aches when he opens his eyes and finds nothing but chrome and fluorescence and the endless expanse of asphalt laid out before him?

[ywraa]

🪲

[saturnniidae]

I bet Hiccup was accused of being a changeling when he was little

[mantisgodsdomain]

Falling victim to madness in the Chilaios Discord part one (with a link to the post mentioned at the end). Part 2 linked here (note: slightly more nsfw text). Transcript below cut.

A Discord conversation between three discord users - us, nicknamed Speculative Vore Cookbook, Cup of Chilaios Soup, and Oh Kay! (wormlette).

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Experiencing the impulse to rewrite the changeling chapters for fun and profit. Do you think that considering that half-foots apparently see dwarves as Extremely Attractive Laios sparks some kind of Thing in Chilchuck as a dwarf

Cup of Chilaios soup: GRABS YOU PLEASE CONTINUE

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Listen considering Us there will be spec bio about this but. Listen. Since we've been doing the species as "uncanny-valley-type not quite Like You" for the most part with just a little bit of increased compatibility within "families". Do you think that it would be fun if he can suddenly see all of Laios's features in this new light of this particular species. Where all of the tallman features abruptly come into focus in a format far more recognizable and all of a sudden he can draw some Very Certain Lines to someone who is abruptly several times more recognizably attractive rather than, like, would be very attractive if it weren't for the subtle distortion of species.

Cup of Chilaios soup: my third eye has opened

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Do you think being a tallman himself would help with that? An abrupt distortion of the brain. Do you think he would be able to draw back those memories to abruptly have the uncanny-valley barrier splinter under the force of, y'know, he knows precisely what that translates to, and with the added perspective it seems much less alien, and much more "for the love of god he's not supposed to be getting crushes on the job"

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We need to make elves Weirder for this also. They're like the only race on the chart right now that Doesn't have a close-relation group where things like attraction translate more easily we need to make them more fucked up Absently rotating the idea of dwarves having an excellent sense of smell compared to their other close relatives both for enhancing their appreciation for Good Food (a surprising amount of taste is tied up in your sense of smell) and for underground navigation & communication And Laios will absolutely be Weird About It

Cup of Chilaios soup: Laios: wow Chilchuck why do you smell so breedable (gets crushed by a rock)

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Walks up to Chilchuck and starts sniffing him unprompted so he can deliver a food-critic review of his scent Breedable waits for whenever we actually get ourself to do sex pollen heatfic and can also do cool spec bio stuff but like with reproductive cycles Still rotating the idea of making DM tallmen Weirder. We already know they're taller than IRL humans we need to add like some extra fuckshit in there We've got to do the speculative biology first you see. Make it more fucked up. We've already set it up so they're fairly closely related to orcs we might as well add some fantasy bullshit in there.

Cup of Chilaios soup: Tallmen have slower metabolisms maybe? And they need to at A Lot to support their mass? You are so correct eat A Lot*

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (replying to initial message): wait hold on holy fuck man.

Speculative Vore Cookbook: So far what we have for them as their Thing They're Known for is like. Endurance. Tallmen Specifically are known to be able to walk for hours without growing too tired. Not quite as strong as orcs or ogres, of course, but they're tall enough that they practically eat up ground with every stride, and they just don't stop moving.

Cup of Chilaios soup: passing the braincell around like it's a joint KINGS OF TIRING THEIR PREY OUT

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Orcs and ogres are ofc known for their brutal strength, which is Significantly Less Pronounced in humans - but all that strength burns energy, and they'll tire out far faster. Humans just keep going, far beyond what they really should be capable of.

Cup of Chilaios soup: guys who will climb a fcking mountain and be like ":D wanna walk back to town on foot"

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We think that the Big Thing People Know for elves would be their magic but we think that the magic thing is less about being naturally predisposed to it or whatever and more on the fact that enough of their society circles around it that pretty much any elf you meet's been deliberately raised to cultivate their magic, We think that their actual primary feature, like, physically, would be like. We're basing them on ungulates, right? Elves have long, willowy limbs, especially compared to their bodies. Look very graceful as adults who have had centuries of experience walking around and like wretched ganglebeasts at any point when they haven't gotten the hang of it yet. ABSURDLY fast in a sprint, because those long-ass legs are useful for Something, and that Something is being on runnable stilts. Not much stamina, though. (we are returning to this because we are fond of Marcille and we want her to be, like, Weird but in a way where they pass it off as Normal Elf Weird until the Changeling Thing happens and they have to cope with the fact that actually, elves are way weirder, and Marcille is weird in how close she is to other races as opposed to. Uhh. That Fucking Setup

Speculative Vore Cookbook (replying to Cup of Chilaios soup": "guys who will climb a fcking mountain"): Tallmen will climb a mountain carrying equipment on their back and need like a thirty minute breather tops before they're back up and at it like "okay now time to go down the other side" We think it's fun if it's a thing like the half-foot/dwarf/gnome cluster's enhanced senses, where the Absurd Stamina is part of what their other close relations have going for them, but whereas orcs and ogres have it to a Reasonable degree, Tallmen specialize really hard into doing this One Thing and get it in spades. Much like how half-foots spent all of their stat points in their ridiculously sensitive senses, to the detriment of things like strength and durability, tallmen have stupid amounts of stamina. Don't have to be as strong as your close relatives when you can simply outlast them!

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (replying to Speculative Vore Cookbook "returning to this because we are fond of Marcille): really like learning abt elf weirdness in the context of marcille, specifically as a half elf. really liked how that reveal was handled, since fionil is also a half-elf i didnt notice for a LONG time that she was perhaps different than other elves. i really like that!!! tall-men just have a lot of stamina. basically canon re: how much shit laios carries around. particularly in a good dog RIP they're like. alaskan mal specced. they just keep going and going forever

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We think that her, like, subtly softer features and such get Very Fun especially with the potential familiarity aspect vs what full elves have going on if we go full weird on elves because we fucking love how Absolutely Fucked ungulate anatomy is and it scratches a little itch in the back of our brain to let the Graceful Forest People overlap with, like. You Know The Specific Flavor Of Creepypasta Beast

Oh Kay! (wormlette): ^forever comparing everything to dog breeds

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We casually mention that Falin's wrist bones are shorter than elf wrist bones in Drain Your Well Dry and we really need to elaborate on that some day Marcille is like the shetland pony of elves in that she's got like WAY more just… bulk, compared to an elf that's normally like 98% gangle 2% meat And she's still, like, insanely boney compared to human standards. We like to think she has the build of a greyhound. Insanely long for no reason.

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting Speculative Vore Cookbook "casually mentioned Falin's wrist bones are shorter): I NOTICED!!! I LUV THAT… marcille studying ennervation and everything… it kills me… i always thought of her as so carefree looking in her little spellbook and walking around and now im haunted by like. how much of it was her studying human anatomy for what she feared was inevitable!

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting "like to think she has the build of a greyhound"): oh yeaaaag sighthound build would be GOOD for elves.

Speculative Vore Cookbook: But she still looks… More Similar To Other Races, y'know. You can see the similarities to her and other races and it makes it a tiny bit easier to slowly feel more at ease around her. Elves are weird and you don't see them often, but y'know, you've been around This One Elf long enough to start picking up on stuff, y'know? She's not that different from you, when it comes down to it, and sure she's a bit childish but that's probably normal for longer-lived races who're in the first halves of their lives, honestly. Aging slower and all. You can draw the lines if you pay enough attention, you've spent enough time socializing with other species that you can figure out the basic key, and though there are some things in there that really throw you off, as with any other race, it's not like you're handling an entirely new skull structure like with kobolds, right? It's readable, with enough time. Similar enough to tallmen that you can use your experience there and then fill in the gaps. And then you meet full-blooded elves when the Canaries come knocking and these guys are WAY more offputting than you thought actually. What the fuck is up with them? What the hell?

Cup of Chilaios soup: They have the reflective deer eyes from those horror edits

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Putting elves as a weird isolated branch in the humanoid evolution tree was a galaxy brain decision for us tbh. Their whole Weird Superiority Thing very much gets worse when they're the only people who don't have close relatives they can reference from. The other long-lived races seem to mingle FAR easier than them, and though we know it's The Attitude and such, it's fun to make them just… offputting.

Oh Kay! (wormlette): your miiiind

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting "not like reading an entirely new skull structure like kobolds): btw dont you love the thingie about kobolds having a vocal chord structure that doesnt realy support them speaking common. so no matter how smart they are they seem "animalistic" to humans. i love that a lot it's like. hmm. i really like when it's not body horror by itself but put into a societal context, it BECOMES horrifying. u know? it would be fine. except the dehumanization it leads to

Speculative Vore Cookbook: YESSSS it slaps so hard. We think that there should be more bonus subtle differences with just random other races we think it's SO fun when biology fucks you over just as firmly as society.

Cup of Chilaios soup: SO TRUE KAY Rotating all these thoughts in my mind

Speculative Vore Cookbook: It's not that something is wrong with you. It's that you weren't built for this world the same way that everyone else was.

Cup of Chilaios soup: The parallels,,,,, the themes,,,,, Biting my leg

Speculative Vore Cookbook: Anyways do you think that part of the reason Kabru is so Like That is because he went from normal human body language to a bunch of elves with the same general bauplan but next to no shared body language vocabulary, Do you think he had to like manually learn how elves express social emotions with a race so isolated that they're probably developing whole separate methods of socialization completely divorced from anything the short-lived races even do and then had to relearn how to act like a Human when he went back into the world.

Cup of Chilaios soup: OH MY GOD Also sorry but Idk how far some of the peeps reading the manga are, perhaps it would be nice to spoiler the Kabru thing:0 BUT I AGREE THIS IS SCRATCHING MY BRAIN KABRU MY BELOVED THIS HEADCANON IS SUCH GOOD BRAIN FOOD

Speculative Vore Cookbook: We love making fantasy races like just a little bit more fucked up

Cup of Chilaios soup: As you should!!!!!!!

Speculative Vore Cookbook: TBH it widens the gap between species if they're, like, similar enough that you think you Should be able to interpret the signals they're giving off because they look Just Similar Enough that they should emote and socialize and such like you, right? But the similarity is, as they say, mostly just skin-deep, because it does so much more to widen cultural differences when the cultures also work on different biology. Anyways we think half-foot communities should be really dense in population because they descended from an ancestor with the Meerkat Strategy of having a fuckton of people with very sharp senses all looking out for the same colony in such a way where there's always at least one person awake to raise the alarm and we think it's fun if half-foots are set up for a significantly more tactile & densely-populated community than most other species.

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting Speculative Vore Cookbook "part of the reason Kabru is so Like That): I DO. I DO THINK THAT. DO YOU THINK THAT tallman socialization feels so coarse and simple and easy-to-read by comparison.

Speculative Vore Cookbook: It's cool & fun if Chilchuck has to deliberately avoid almost all forms of touch to avoid being demeaned and seen as Lesser And Childish while also being wired to have like minimum five hours of skin contact with colony members per day tbh. Touch starve that man in ways that are difficult to understand for his party that he will actively have to muffle if he wants to be taken Seriously because most other races see it as Childish to cling

Speculative Vore Cookbook (quoting Oh Kay "I DO THINK THAT"): YES and we think it's very fun if him having to manually relearn tallman socialization also makes it so he finds it easier to interpret other races because he already has to like work out what Everyone's thinking from a pre-prepped body language dictionary and it's just so much easier to interpret when he doesn't have to re-invent the wheel every time

Oh Kay! (wormlette) (quoting Speculative Vore Cookbook "childish to cling": @_@ im so FUCKING normal

Speculative Vore Cookbook: :333 The changeling chapter constantly lives rent-free in our brain we think it's fun if like anyone who gets half-footed starts experiencing the intense skin hunger cravings like less than an hour in and have no idea what the Fuck it is because they've never lived in a body made to be that Social before and Chilchuck has to like take over to offer a bit of touch even if it's undignified since. Y'know. He knows how it feels. No reason to subject them to that, even if it's gonna cost a bit of dignity. It'll cost them more dignity if they start freaking out over it. It's efficient :333 Dealing with senses cranked up so high that you can tell when someone's moving around clear on the other side of the building probably makes it a whole lot harder to handle even More stimuli in a normal and dignified manner Something something we're grabbing a cool post we made

[starry-bi-sky]

Since you don't bite, I must tell you that I love your Changeling/Fae Danny AU. It literally tastes good (synesthesia adjacent bs) and I would eat it if I could. <3

👁️👁️🫵

HOW'D YOU KNOW I WAS THINKING ABOUT CHANGELING/FAE DANNY WHEN YOU SENT THIS. WIIIITCH

(also omg??? im super curious on what changeling/fae danny tastes like to you 👀. is it wrong of me to say that sounds super cool???)

but gosh yesss fae/changeling danny my beloved. he's so fun to think about. there are two wolves inside me:

one wolf is the desire to go full tilt into his fey side and let him be mischievous and impish and a chaotic gremlin. he is terrorizing the ghostly masses and driving Wes Weston up the wall because he keeps melting his fucking cameras.

the other wolf is one that wants to explore the consequences of having gone from being human all your life to not-human, and now everything you once knew about yourself down to the physiological level is wrong and new and different, and you have all these instincts and habits you didn't have before that you've got to learn and wrangle with.

and then there's the mediator in the middle trying to hash together a way to have the best of both worlds while still remaining coherent.

anyways, danny finds out that he can catch starlight in jars the same way you can catch fireflies, and he spends all night filling up little mason jars and hanging them from his ceiling. They look like little specks floating around in there. He's over the moon about it :]

[fangyymusic]

This may end up being this week's Sunburst Sunday post bc I have little energy to draw. Eepy...

[bigfatbreak]

I honestly can't wait to see Adrien's reaction to the whole engagement thing. I wonder whether he will get jealous and just. Not completely, if at all, understand where it comes from. He just wants to hang out with his dear friend Marinette it's not like her engagement changes anything, right? And meanwhile his fae hindbrain is seething.

P.S. your posts made me want to go read lukanette fics after not engaging with the fandom (besides your comics) at all for *checks watch uh clock uh calendar* 4 years. Thank you<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

honestly before the jealousy even forms, the abandonment trauma hits like a freight train and he almost falls apart

[baylardian-1]

im cringe but im free

[transkingcobra]

“Daddy, look, I got a duck!”

Halsin is having her return Mr. Duck to his family and she got distracted with the idea of new hair

More epilogue ideas before I even finish writing the first chapter shhhhhh

Still debating on her name but this little changeling is Halsin and my changeling Nix’s daughter. Years after the game, the loads of orphans growing up, safe and settled, Nix would’ve found himself wanting to give Halsin his own child.

She loves birds so she has a lot of bonding moments with daddy over ducks lol. He calls her Little Dove ✨ Seen above is her wood elf persona (“like daddy” of course) which she usually spends half her time in, otherwise being fairly obviously a changeling, pale white skin “like mama” but she likes to play with the colors of her eyes and hair and even what color she blushes. She discovered how to sparkle so she pretty much always has a golden shimmer to her no matter what her form.

(Close ups cause idk if this is gonna look okay posted as-is:)

Or feel free to suggest some! (Asks are open if you wanna go anon)

[smile-files]

a much better ponysona!! a flutter pony (and/or changeling)... her name is happy-go-lucky or something silly like that :)

[autisticrosewilson]

First of all, you have given me so much to work with, thank you so much. Second of all, I’m really glad you could see where I was going with Grant’s real test not actually being about killing Slade. Third of all, I absolutely love what you’ve suggested with the powers and I am currently designing met gala esque outfits for the trio and Tara’s specifically is really fun to play around with. I’ve been thinking to show they’re becoming more divine I’ll change their hair and eye colours but not their faces for the most part. I was drawing robin Jason with Natalia and decided he should have brown eyes and a crooked nose from breaking it as a kid but once he returns his eyes get weird (eg go blue and occasionally other colours), a patch of his hair went white and he lost all of his scars. Also, I think the closer they get to divinity I’m gonna draw cracks on their body that glow with their specific colours just to hammer home how they’re shedding their mortal forms.

With Tara being able to see the strings of fate, I though it’d be fun to give her a harp and then with Jason having the see no evil trait I thought it’d be fun to give him weighing scales since lady justice wears a blindfold. Idk what to give Grant though. I mean probably a weapon of some sort or maybe a Shepard’s crook that he can turn into a scythe to play into the sheep, wolf, Hunter thing.

With Jason and Tara’s splintering, I love the idea of them making fun of Grant for being the baby god. He hasn’t even had a cult yet, gosh he’s so young. Also them being besties just holds a special place in my heart.

And I just came up with this, of course they have parallels to the trinity but in universe rumours of their existence have been around much longer than Bruce, Clark and Diana. They’re the big three of the justice league but these guys are justice gods. So they start calling themselves the justice trinity but then people get confused about which trinity is which because the justice leagues’ trinity sounds awfully close to the justice gods’ trinity. The new all caste is certainly more distinctive branding but the point isn’t to be distinctive, it’s to be petty.

I'm so glad my unmedicated rambling helped!!! And I'm so excited for the outfits!!! I love when characters start becoming less and less human, when they're stuck in that uncanny valley spot of not quite human but not entirely Other, when they lose control and the cracks start to show...um I should probably give a warning for slight body horror elements. Not in the gore sense, in the "this body is not made of flesh and there is something divine clawing it's way out". Uh also there are teeth. Just. Teeth. I dipped into a little bit of cosmic horror at the end there because I wanted to cover my bases with mixed mythologies

Jason, with his defined splinters, is usually depicted with three faces in ancient texts. The Child, gaunt and dark colored, is said to appear before the downtrodden and impoverished. The few stories remaining tell of kindly people who give him an offering, and in exchange he reveals his true form, with his crown of golden ivy and beautiful strong wings to gift them bounties of food and water and riches. Other stories tell of not so kind encounters, where The Child witnesses an injustice - typically against women or children - and again reveals his true form, one with clawed hands and a mouth dripping with blood. Scholars argue what the wings looked like, but whichever All-Caste member annotated it before has compared their likeness to either a Robin or a Shrike.

There's also The Ghost, He appears young at first glance, but his hair is wirey and gray, his eyes milky and unseeing, in bloodied armor he greets the souls of the damned as they're delivered to him, and with scarred hands he wipes the tears of children taken too soon. Accounts of this face are few and far between, but all of them are entrenched in sorrow.

Finally there is The Soldier, scarred and still smoking from the ruins of battle he emerges, giving voice to the weak and resources to the needy. He champions revolutionaries and philosophers first, a strategist who delights in the liberation of the people from corrupt systems. Accounts of him usually come from times of famine and war, and he was particularly popular with poor villages, who would mark the graves of their dead with the symbol of his sword as offerings. For some reason or other, he got particularly popular with the youth, girls and boys both seemed to pray for him and leave him offerings.

The way these manifest on Jason is subtle at first. I could go the body horror route, but I won't. Yet. Instead I think his splinters show up as reflections, shadows, imprints. The faint echo of bell-like laughter when Jason does a move he learned as Robin, the image of a younger him with longer hair and unblinking eyes staring at him in the mirror. It gets worse when he gets the blades, the white streaks his hair, the swirling mark covers more of his skin every time he uses them, he trails the scent of smoke and blood behind him like a signature. His scars...they should disappear. They have for everyone else who used the pit, but instead his skin starts cracking. Any place he's ever been scarred glowing cracks break up his skin. He can't feel them, but he's always aware of them, the meaning behind them, the divinity literally leaking through his body. His eyes aren't brown anymore. They aren't even green. He looks in the mirror and they are copper, molten and burning. He tries his best to keep his mask on.

What do you think of when you imagine the word divinity? Probably something like Tara. Something with skin carved from stone, with moss and fungus crawling up her legs and snow laden shoulders. They say her hair is made of swirling clouds and the sun and moon are her eyes.

Some say she's a nymph although no one knows what kind. You're just as likely to see her name among the naiads as the dryads. Whether flowers bloom where she dances or waves crash when she sings, she's known to be more vicious towards suitors than her sisters.

Others have said she's a faerie, who takes the faces of lost daughters and lovers, slipping into their places seamlessly, forcing unruly men to pay their dues. Others say she's a shifter of a different sort, with a shawl of feathers and a crown of twine and gems. Stories range from men trying to steal her coat (and paying dearly) to lost children returned safely home on the back of a swan.

Tara doesn't think about it at first, the way gravity tends to cede to her, she doesn't notice how sunflowers turn their faces towards her instead of the sun. She doesn't notice the way her face...shifts. it's imperceptible really, and it's not like she looks in the mirror all that often. But everyone around her notices it, on some level, the way her expressions are off. A little too exaggerated. The way her limbs bend just a little too oddly. The way she never looks quite the same as she did the day before, the way she picks up features from the people around her the way she picks up rocks from ground to add to her collection. Clay molded subtly into the image of those she loves, a museum of everyone she's ever met. She does notice when her hair starts going white at the ends, the strange way her hair starts to curl unnaturally, almost floating. She's not so upset about her eyes, the deep blue of her father that has glared down at her day after day, she has changed her hair, her face, her language but she could not change her eyes. It seems she didn't have to, when she wakes up with one a little too silver to be gray and one a little too gold to be brown. And then her skin starts splitting, a cavern made from a broken rib and ravines made by the slashing of knives. She doesn't even bleed anymore, they never scab over. They crystallize, amber like ambrosia, like ichor. Her body a geode waiting to be cracked open to let the thing within finally break free.

They know the least about Grant, whatever he used to be. Half written scrolls, torn or burnt or simply stopped abruptly, illegible journal entries with symbols never recorded in any known language, half finished sketches where the details are never quite clear. A few things are usually consistent though, signs that he's been there, usually from hunters down on their luck or the particularly old and sickly. First, the howling. Like a wolf or a storm, although later accounts would add that it occasionally sounds like a mechanical whirring. Then the rabbits, dead and gutted, but not a trace of blood. Piles of them left in heaps on doorsteps or windowsills. Some have reported knocking at strange hours or finding teeth in their homes, a mix of human and animal. There is one photo on record, the most recent thing in the archive most likely, of claw marks on the side of a barn, too big and oddly serrated, certainly not from anything native to the area. Elderly that report these phenomena typically pass from heart problems within the week, according to some of the old medical files.

Grant came back wrong. Physically, at least. He knows that he's still himself for the most part, dying didn't make him a selfish asshole he did that all on his own, but...but something is wrong with him. It's the way lightbulbs flicker when he's mad and how cameras, no matter the quality, never quite get a clear shot of him. The way Joey can't ever grasp his features, not fully, the details slipping from his mind like water. The way eyes on his face slide right past, unable to look directly at him. It's in the gray spreading from his roots and his eyes too wide and dark to belong to something human. It's the way death clings to him like a second skin, sickly and pallid turning the tips of his fingers gray. His teeth are starting to feel too sharp for his mouth, and he hears things no one else does, whispers of voices that Are Not and Can't Be. The worst part is the orange, liquid candlelight under his skin, lighting up all of his veins and scars, webbing together like the world's worst game of connect the dots. No, there is no mistaking him for something human, so there is no reason to try. If this is his fate then he will take it, because he is not a sheep and he will not be a wolf, he is a hunter, and he is hungry.

[enquire]

Legacy and Tragedy (background story 1?)

I think it's time to talk about what the deal is with Saber and his dad.

This little backstory is going to be a smidge more dark for the my little horse show alright.

It's fineee, ok, ponies die in MLP.

To be honest it's not that bad. I mean it could be worse like uh... certain things that happen in the original dra canon.. ehem anyway this may be a little out of left field but bear with me here. I felt Saber needed a backstory of somewhat equal weight for it to still feel like it's him, and fit in the way I want it to...

ANYWAY I am rambling about my dra pony au again so buckle in.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Ever since he could remember, Saber Frost knew who he was supposed to be. Being raised by his father Cold Steel, his life was surrounded by the Equestrian Guard since he was just a foal. He watched his father rise through the ranks, until he held the title of Captain of the Equestrian Guard.

They were different from Day and Night Guard; ever servants of the royal family. Instead of performing meaningless ceremonial duties, and being easily swept aside by almost any threat, the Equestrian Guard actually protect and serve everypony.

That's what Saber had always been told, and believed. He strove to follow in his father's hoofsteps and become the kind of pony who saved lives, and kept everyone safe. The kind of pony who ensured justice was done.

Cold Steel taught him everything he knew. How to defend himself. How to track down missing ponies. The proper way to care for your gear, and the best methods of investigating crime scenes. How to subdue criminals. How to prioritize during an emergency. How to make necessary sacrifices.

Everything Saber understood about the world, he saw through the same lens. And so, he, and his best friend, a unicorn named Keen Blaze, vowed to become heroes together.

Saber and Keen rose quickly through the ranks. Though Keen was always a few steps ahead, Saber was proud of his accomplishments. Even if his father was disappointed when Keen gained the rank of Lieutenant instead, Saber wasn't competitive. Maybe, part of him preferred to stay in Keen's shadow, where the pressure was less. Supporting his friend, and protecting each other.

But safety never truly lasts. This is a lesson Saber thought he had already learned. It had been drilled into him ever since he was a foal. The reality was, he had never truly known it. Until the day changelings descended down upon Canterlot, taking the castle and incapacitating the Royal Guard.

Spies had already infiltrated the Equestrian Guard, claiming their headquarters and taking several of their own as captives, including Keen Blaze. When the Captain of the Equestrian Guard realized what had happened, it was far too late to recover lost ground.

Changelings swarmed the city, attacking civilian and soldier alike. The princesses were nowhere to be seen. It seemed as though the few brigades of the Equestrian Guard still standing were the only thing left between Canterlot and annihilation. And if Canterlot fell, the rest of Equestria could, too.

So, he came up with a plan to destroy their own headquarters. Doing so would take out the great number of changelings using it as a base of operations and remove access to the catacombs below, stopping the invading army from escaping underground.

Two birds, one stone.

But when he gave the order, Captain Steel was met with resistance for perhaps the first time. Many of the ponies under his leadership had qualms about the hostages still trapped inside, most of whom were sworn members of the Guard, just like them. Companions, and friends.

Cold Steel pointed out that they could very well be changelings, disguised in order to prevent retaliation. And that if not, their comrades' sacrifice would protect the safety of Canterlot and ensure the changeling menace was driven back before the worst came to pass.

But hesitation was natural, wasn't it? Nopony spoke. Until Saber, seeing his father without support, came forward and stood by his words.

After that, more ponies fell in beside him. A tide shifting in favor of the Captain and his plan.

Saber was among the unicorns whose magic took the building down. When it was done, at first, the guard was triumphant. Black, broken carapaces and shattered bug wings signaled their success. The bugs still left alive fled to the other side of the city, leaving the district quiet at last.

But not al the bodies left in the rubble belonged to changelings. The captured ponies had not been fake. Saber was the first to spot burned, brown fur. He forced the wreckage aside, but it was too late. Keen was already dead.

The cheers faded as more and more comrades were found broken and lifeless in the remains. And before the guard could recover enough to take back the rest of Canterlot, a wave of magic exploded from the palace, expelling the invading changelings and rendering the sacrifices made completely, utterly, pointless.

Saber kept staring, half expecting the body of his friend to be wreathed in green flame. For the corpse of a changeling to be revealed instead. But when the bugs were purged from Canterlot, Keen's body remained there, untouched.

Even as several years passed, part of Saber was left behind in that moment. Nightmares and shadows, ever present, almost cemented in his mind by the familiar parapets and streets of Canterlot. And echoing in his father's cold voice and stony expression.

Perhaps that is why Saber chose to leave Canterlot, going over his father's head by giving in to his friends' advice to request reassignment. To a small town Thrift, and two friends he had yet to meet, called home.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

here's an alternate untinted version for color reasons

It was fun getting to write down some of the deeper lore for this silly little au... I will likely do more of this sort of thing in the future. Hope anyone who read all that enjoyed it. I might actually write some stories too, who knows.

p.s. If you're curious, Steel left the kirin village (or some other kirin location) a long time ago. Probably because he had a difference of opinion with them, or didn't have any interest in being 'silenced.'

Saber was born in Canterlot, so he doesn't remember the village or have a connection to his heritage. His mother (an unnamed unicorn) isn't around anymore, and Steel raised Saber by himself.

p.p.s. I uh kinda forgot to mention this but I am working from the idea that there are three factions going on, two of which are Celestia and Luna's respective royal guards, and the other which takes on the role local authorities, militia, etc would fill. Kinda how the Wonderbolts are essentially an air force. The Equestrian Guard might have its headquarters in Canterlot, but it's based throughout Equestria. The Day/Night Guards (who let's face it, are indeed often kind of useless and largely ceremonial) are not Equestria's army, internal security force, or anything; that's where the Equestrian Guard comes in.