#i drew one and didn’t like it so i drew a second identical one

[andromeddog]

two of them

[vipetas]

i. the radio's revival

The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.

He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.

It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.

In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?

The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.

“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.

“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”

The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered. 

Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.

The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.

Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.

“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”

Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.

With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.

But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious. 

Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,” he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”

Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.

“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”

Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.

It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.

Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.

Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.

As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”

Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.

“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”

You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.

As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”

With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.

“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.

“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”

As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.

And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.

Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”

As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.

Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”

You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.

This was going to be a problem.

part i / part ii

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3

[envysparkler]

Big Bad

Damian was not lost.  He wasn’t.  If only the streets of this filthy, putrid city did not look identically degenerate—

He wasn’t lost.  Unfortunately, his grapple gun was no longer working—shoddy workmanship, if it fell apart after being used as a makeshift club twice—and on ground level, all of Gotham looked the same.  His pursuers were catching up—Damian was fast, but no matter how fast he was, he was still eleven years old and his legs weren’t long enough to outrun adults.

There was an alley up ahead and Damian took the turn, searching for the fire escape so he could scramble back up to the rooftops and figure out where he was—but the escape was rusted through and hung three levels off the ground, and the alley was a dead end.

Damian strangled the urge to rant about proper fire code and turned to face his opponents.  There were six of them, fanning out to block his escape, and Damian drew the knife concealed in his suit.

“The little boy thinks he can fight,” one of the men sneered, raising his gun.

“I can certainly fight better than you,” Damian sneered, “Not that it’s difficult to be better than a pack of drunk, washed-up lowlifes.”

There was a hiss of fury threading through the pack.  Good.  Anger would make them sloppy.  Damian shifted in preparation, fingers tightening on his knife.

One of the men stepped forward.  The ringleader, presumably, glaring at Damian and the R on his chest.

“Do you know why they call this place Crime Alley, kid?” the lowlife asked, holding his gun like it was a toy and not a weapon.

“Do you?” a harsh, mechanized voice retorted.

Everyone looked up.

Damian took advantage of the confusion and lashed out, snapping one kneecap with a vicious kick, and disfiguring another thug’s face with a slash of his knife.  The crack of gunshots echoed around him, and when Damian turned away from his downed opponent, the alley was full of groaning bodies.

“I did not require your assistance,” Damian snapped, tilting his head back up to stare at Hood.

The older boy gave a half-shrug, still leaning over the edge of the rooftop, “Who said I was assisting?”

Damian glared and stalked out of the alley.

“Take a left, pass three blocks, and take a right,” Hood called out, “You’ll end up back in the East End.”

Damian ignored him, and took a left.  Five minutes later, he was back on more familiar streets, and he gave into the urge to look up.

There was a glint of red on the opposite rooftop and, as he watched, it turned away.

~#~

Steph had maybe possibly not thought this one through.  The warehouse she’d crawled into was empty, all locked up for the night, but she could still hear footsteps echoing around her and her vision was starting to get fuzzy around the corners.

She kept her arm pressed against the slash in her thigh and tried to breathe through the pain.  She’d been in the Bowery when she’d gotten tagged, and tried to lose her pursuers in the streets, unfortunately ending up very far from backup.

Everyone knew Batman didn’t come to Crime Alley.

Steph inhaled slowly and shifted up—Red Robin was coming from the other end of Gotham, at least ten minutes out.  Leslie’s clinic was a full six blocks away.

Footsteps.  Loud and deliberate.  Too heavy to be Tim, too brazen to be Batman.  Steph grabbed her taser and waited.

She registered the red helmet a split second before she pushed down on the button, and Steph exhaled in a rush, slumping back to the ground.

“Couldn’t announce yourself, asshole?”

~#~

“You must be ten kinds of stupid,” someone said as they moved to ring him, “To run straight into our territory.”

Dick kept his good leg straight and tried not to shift, lancing pains shooting up his broken leg.  “But this isn’t your territory,” he smiled, and tilted his head up until he could catch a glimpse of red at the corner of a rooftop, “It’s his.”

The Red Hood straightened from his position.

~#~

Turned out that body armor was not much help against armor-piercing rounds, and that someone in Crime Alley had finally grown a brain.  Jason limped through the alley, keeping to the shadows, one hand pressing against the wall as he struggled to stay upright.  His stomach was a mass of fire that tugged at him with every step, his breaths growing harsher and harsher.

He didn’t need to check the wound to know that he was losing blood alarmingly fast.

He could maybe make it to the clinic.  It was another two blocks over, and the world was growing hazier at a constant rate—he’d probably be able to knock on Leslie’s door before he passed out.

If it weren’t for the voices behind him.  Two, maybe three—or was that just the ringing in his ears?  Either way, the street was blurry enough that Jason didn’t trust his aim, and if they made it into grappling range, he wasn’t sure if he’d win.

But he could make it to the clinic.  Could stick to the shadows, ignore the splatter of blood he was leaving behind as a trail, suppress the shrieking agony and crawl to safety.

On the next step, a piercing sensation tore through his side, and Jason staggered.

Okay.  He couldn’t make it to the clinic.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Knight

Emily x male!reader

this was requested by @wfig123 and the request was: “can you do Emily x male!reader where Emily becomes a fallen angel and ends up with Valentino, but reader saves her and he takes care of her”. They also drew art to go with this request which is so cute! <3 Their art is added below t

Summary: Emily coudlnt sit silently and watch heavens cruelty once Adam was gone, after a fight with Sera nothing could be done when the hellfire sucked her down. And just as Emily’s hope lifted with Charlie finding her, it dropped again when she got snatched up, luckily you like playing knight in shining armour

Warnings: Valentino and his crew, bad explanations of action sorry gang lmao, kinda disney-esque saviour stuff, kidnapping, swearing, sexual harassment, Emily is portrayed as meek, male reader, no physical description except the reader has lightning powers like last request. NOT PROOFREAD alrighty lads lemme know what i missed :))

word count: 2.2k

It was an unfortunate state of events for Emily, one minute she’s being guided by Sera, then she finds out her guide, the one she adored most, lied to her. Charlie opened Emily’s eyes to world she never knew existed and the goodness in her heart wouldn’t allow Charlie to fight the battle alone, especially knowing that those were human souls, just like they had in heaven, she had to believe.

Emily had pestered Sera since Charlie left, and when the extermination happened, Emily couldn’t just stand by as Lute returned single handed, uh, literally. Emily had what could only be described as a mental breakdown paired with an identity crisis. She screamed at Sera about how angels were the symbol of love, peace and that the exterminations are everything but that. Not to mention it brought forth a catalyst of problems, with Lutes missing arm, and Adam seemingly dead, it wouldn’t be long until the whole of heaven heard of what’s become. Emily’s emotional outburst caused catastrophe, as the portals opened to pull Emily down all Sera could do was stand aside watching the hellfire grip and pull her down, Emily screaming for Sera to help her, to do something.

And just like that Sera had backstabbed Emily a second time, or was it a third? Landing harshly in the smog, and ashes, Emily coughed, her wings burning her dress tattered. Physically she didn’t change but her halo had fallen and horns curled out of her hair. Overwhelmed with emotions, Emily curled into herself in the dilapidated alleyway, unsure of what to do from here on out. After another good cry, Emily pulled herself off the ground, hair tattered, dress dirty and feeling the worst she’d ever felt. It was like falling into heaven took the clouds from her eyes so she could see things as they really are, and as much as she hated the feeling, she preferred to know.

That’s when it hit her, the reason she originally fell, Charlie, the hotel, safety. With new motivation Emily pulled herself off the ground beginning to walk towards the open streets. Eyes jumping from demon to demon, brick building to brick building, it was surprisingly advance and the demons looked less grisly, like she originally imagined.

If anything it looked like a crueller heaven, which she supposes shouldn’t be a surprise considering Lucifer was drone heaven originally. Stumbling through the streets, many demons could tell she was fresh meat by the way she carried herself, it was very skittishly, something that screamed victim.

Wringing her hands together, she went to ask some lady demons, who looked kind, where the hotel resided. However before she could a gasped sounded out behind her, turning on her heel Emily barely had time to catch her footing when Charlie crashed into her, giving her a organ crushing hug. “Oh my goodness Em! My dad got a message from the Seraphim! We were so worried there’s been a search out all day!” Charlie exclaimed, pulling away to inspect the fallen angel. Emily began to tear sniffling at the thought of people looking out for her, it was much kinder when people were willing to risk themselves for you.

Wiping away tears sheepishly, Emily shot Charlie a kind smile. “Thank you so much Charlie, I- it’s been so scary, I don’t know what i would have done without you.” Emily says meaningfully, giving Charlie a warm look.

“Cmon, let’s head back to the hotel so we can call everyone back.” Following close behind Charlie, Emily slumped twiddling her fingers as she walked down the hectic streets. Across the way a demon screams for mercy, before a shot rings out making Emily jump. “Is it, uh, always like this?” She asked meekly, not entirely sure of what she wanted the answer to be. Smiling Charlie nodded looking a little embarrassed at the fact. “Yeah, i mean some of these souls don’t deserve what they get, which is why stronger, and more violent demons go after them. Like that poor guy.” Charlie ushered Emily away with a guiding arm behind her back.

Pulling out her phone, Charlie sent a message to Angel, Husk, her father, you, and Cherrie who stayed back after the reconstruction of the hotel. Charlie got a quick response from you as per usual, and quickly opened her phone, reading the response. “My friend YN, he’s excited to meet you. He’s kinda been obsessed with the whole fallen angel thing. He’s hoping to get into heaven at some point, but he originally came to in his words, ‘stick his nose in your business’.” Charlie laughed at the recollection of your first arrival, gazing up at the pentagram covered sky. “He sounds kinda nice.” Emily muttered unsure of what she should really think.

“Don’t worry everyone will be nice, it’ll be grea-” Suddenty four demons burst out from an alley, right in front of both Charlie and Emily. Emily immediately jumped back a small shriek emitting from her. Charlie being the kind soul she was, attempting to yank the demons off eachother, reprimanding them for being so stupid, and getting tossed back. Emily watched a few feet back, hand to her mouth watching as Charlie’s demonic form emerged, as she got shoved away once again by the large bore demon.

Charlie was too carried away with the idiocy in front of her, to realise her dear friend was not used to the things residing in hell. And with one foul swoop, silent as a ghost, Emily was whisked up and away, dragged drugged and banged against god only knows what. Her vision was blackened and she knew she was crying but couldn’t control it nor could she properly feel her body.

She couldn’t tell if she was tossed in some cage or whether she was thrashing around a small car but all she knew is that it was a bumpy ride. When it finally stopped, it felt like her body was covered in bruises, she felt her body being dragged up by someone much stronger than her. “Here ya go boss boy.” A light voice hummed, not what she expected to come from someone so strong. There was the wicked smell of smoke invading her nose, making her want to cough and sneeze, however she held it together too afraid of what they do if she suddenly moved or made noise.

There was a long exhale, a breath hit Emily’s blindfolded face and she couldn’t help the recoile that happened when the smell hit her. “What a beauty, mm; she’ll cost a pretty penny y’know. Bring her.” Emily felt claws pick at her chin and then release her. At the beck and call of the man, Emily was taken to another room, this one was less echoey compared to the last, making her feel claustrophobic with the men in the room and cloth on her eyes.

It smelt like incense, cheap perfume, carpet, sex, booze and cigarettes, something Emily was not familiar with at all. Suddenly the arms gripping her, shoved her roughly against a surface, her bounced against it gently, establishing it was more than likely a bed. It was bare nothing but mattress underneath giving her no comfort nor way to hide from prying eyes. She felt cold hands pinch the top of the cloth near her eyebrows, and then the light hit her eyes, causing her to flinch, blinking rapidly.

She tried to bring her hand up to shield her eyes from the light, but found they were bounded by chain or something behind her back. Emily scanned the room in a panic, the room was small, only fit for a bed, a mirror and a few plants and such. It appeared more like a set then a bedroom, the walls were hot pink and furry, the mirror was large and in the shape of a heart, lights surrounding it, the worst part was that it was aimed right at the bed Emily sat on. There was two doors on each side, and near the one on the right closest to Emily was two men. One big beefy man who resembled a shark, and another tall lanky lavender coloured demon. He wore a long red coat, that was spread open, underneath was a black button up, and regular khaki colour suit pants. He wore the ugliest heart glasses paired with the ugliest top hat, and to Emily he was a hideous sight.

Grinning the sickly moth showed off his gold tooth, closing in on Emily’s shrunken down figure. “Look at you kitty, you’ll make such numbers, my pretty little angel.” The demon purred bending down to invade Emily’s space, smoke blowing at her. Coughing slightly, Emily scowled weakly tugging her head away from his cold hand. “I’m not- what’re you talking about?” Emily whispered in horror, standing to full height the moth brushed his clawed hand against his chest, and down. “Oh pretty little thing, you’ll figure it out hm? By the way sweetie, Valentino.” Sticking out the lower arm for a hand shake, he cackled to himself like he was hilarious before pulling it back. “Oops~ I forgot. Silly me!”

The shark behind him laughed like an idiot the two of them observing the way Emily’s body shook with fear, rage, and grief for what may come, tears free falling down her cheeks. “Oh c’mon, you’ll be fine.” The moth tutted, flicking his hand, he turned his attention to the shark whispering to start the cameras and bring in the centipede. As the shark left the room, the power cut out making the moth growl enraged. “What the fuck is this now?!”

Emily flinched back at the tone Valentino took compared to his previous coy tone. Valentino stood awaiting a response, his fists suspended up. Sighing with frustration he began to leave the room. Emily, unable to properly see in the dark of the room, stumbled off the bed tripping slightly.

She watched strobes of lights shoot through the hall, and without a second thought she booked it out the door. She ran down the hall, and turned, a window lighting the hall granted her sight with a staircase, she quickly sped to the stairs walking down cautiously as to not trip. She wished she could spread her wings but with her hands bound she wasn’t able to.

At the bottom of the stairs she followed the red glow of an exit light out a door, and down a creepy hall. The corridor led to a metal door, using her body to push the door open, Emily tripped crashing out of the door and onto her face. She teared up face scratched against the concrete, to the side of her she could hear the sound of demons muttering. Twisting her head to the side she saw two slutty looking demons, one smoking the other drinking. “Oh your Val’s angel, luckyyy. Let’s getcha back inside sugar.” The one with the cigarette said country twang slipping out like molasses.

Emily squealed, inching away awkwardly as her hands couldn’t lift her off the floor, before the two demons could put their hands on her, lightning appeared striking the two in the head. It was as comedic as it was blinding, the two demons sunk to the floor after the strike, Emily teared up turning her face away. You stepped out from the side, panting getting your ass kicked by waves of different demons including Val himself in attempts to find Emily.

You walked up to her shaking figure crouching down, you broke the cuffs with the heat from the lightning you were so generously gifted. “Bad time to meet huh Emily, my names YN, Charlie called me after you got snatched, thankfully she recognized that foul shark.” You explain when Emily turned tearfully up at you, slowly you pulled out your phone, opening a picture you took with both Charlie and Vaggie. “Here’s the proof, I’m a man of many crimes, but never a man of lies.” You say jokingly, trying to relieve the tension, thankfully that seemed to convince her. Looking up at you with diamond like tears across her lashes, she through her arms around your neck sobbing into you.

Gently you wrapped your arms around her, cooing at her softly while combing your fingers through her hair. “S’okay hun, you’re safe now.” You reassure giving her a tight squeeze, your heart breaking at the sight of the angel in your arms. You knew thanks to Charlie she had quite the reality tossed unwillingly in her face, and now she’s here. “Let’s get you to the hotel, okay sweets?” Gently you lifted yourself with her, your anxiety getting to you as you realised you were still in the alleyway where Valentino could get you any second.

Speedily you took off with the angel in your grasp, a block away you’d put her down, as she insisted, but you kept your hand intertwined with hers. She blushed when you took a tight grip, telling her that you wanted to keep her safe.

Once back at the hotel, you messaged Charlie about you being back with her, before turning to Emily. “Make yourself at home, this is the lobby and Charlie should be making her way back soon, once she’s here you’ll be given a room.” You smile at the angel, she reciprocates, her cheeks dusty a hue of purple. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she sheepishly tugged you at the collar pecking your lips with a chaste kiss. “Thank you for saving me.” You grinned at her shy gratitude, and pulled her into a side hug . “No problem.”

[cocogum]

Let’s talk about episodes 7 and 8….

(‼️SEASON 4 SPOILERS‼️)

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Oh boy.

We got a lot to unpack.

We start with when we last finished off in episode 6.

Eva properly gets to speak with her father Madagaskan while the others are right behind her, listening intently to them.

AND MY GOD THE EXPOSITION WAS SO GOOD.

(Good for us, not for Eva tho lol)

The fact that she and Cleophee come from the most infamous assassin’s guild is WILD. You’re telling me that its members are so good at what they do that the rulers of the world buy their offers as fast as possible cuz they’re scared that the guild could ruin them if they go to the opposite team?? That just SCREAMS how important and secretive they are!! (plus we also saw a glimpse of what one of them, freaking Madagaskan, was able to do with just rocks). But it does explain why Eva has such a good eye for combat. I can also see where Cleophee takes her hair from too. From what Madagaskan has said about Eva personally, she looks identical to her mother. (I already headcanon that Cleophee took her looks from her dad instead 🥰).

But what surprised me even more was Flopin’s decision to follow Madagaskan. Not only did he want to get taught by him, but he willingly SNEAKED OUT OF THE DAMN HOUSE to go to him!

Also, can I just say how nice it is to see what Elely and Flopin’s bedrooms looked like? I love how we got a good shot of each of their rooms, it completely encapsulates their personalities and how opposite they are to each other!

Just look at how Flopin’s room looks very organized, his books are properly in their places on the bookshelves, and the amount of papers he has. Even his bed was made and you can see how he has a map of the World of Twelve plastered on the wall just on top of his desk.

Whereas with Elely, her room is completely messy, pillows and clothes are lying around the floor on the left side of the room, her bed is not made, she has a giant tapestry on her wall, some boxing equipment like her gloves and a punching bag (which she drew Poo on it lol that’s a nice detail).

But Flopin did have a point when he talked to his grandpa. We all knew he was a loser cuz Elely and Pin were doing their own thing. I mean do you remember how exhausting it was to keep seeing Elely having so much spotlight back in season 3? My girl is awesome and all but let her breathe for a second damn.

I’m glad Flopin chose that route for himself even though it was a bit of a surprise to see him want to follow Madagaskan now.

Ngl he lists out very valid points that even we were thinking about. It just shows that Flopin is very much self-aware of his position in the family and how this makes him look. I had a feeling Flopin would have his own arc but I didn’t think he’d separate himself from his family to have one! Good for him tho but still…

This means he won’t see Elely for a long time and Pin wouldn’t get to know him as much as the rest of the Percedal family….

But at least he’ll have his grandpa 😭😭

*Meanwhile with Ruel*

“HELPING FOSTER CHILDREN IN NEED?!?? 😱😱😱 HELL NAH NOT ON MY WATCH 😡😡😡”

I can’t with this old ass man sometimes I swear 😭😭😭

I just really loved the exposition on Nora’s part where she revealed to Yugo, Adamaï, and Qilby why and how she came to rescue their mother. The colors and the style of it all were so gorgeous and mesmerizing to stare at and it made so much sense. I also noticed how in her explanation, Nora mentioned that it was Efrim who had a special connection to the Eliatrope goddess instead of her like how it was revealed to be the case in the Wakfu volume 4 manga and the Islands of wakfu game. I assumed that Ankama retconned that tiny detail too.

LESBIAN QUEENS ‼️LESBIAN QUEENS‼️LESBIAN QUEENS‼️ LESBIAN QUEENS‼️LESBIAN QUEENS ‼️

I just love how realistic all the rulers’ answers have been so far. They’re all skeptical of Yugo and his family and I don’t blame them for thinking like that. It doesn’t matter how kind and helpful Yugo can be to them. As Aurora said, everything about this is too coincidental which is how Armand concluded that there could be a traitor in Yugo’s group. Again, I don’t blame him for saying that since he just got told by Yugo that the portals from the Sadida kingdom and Albuera have a portal, leading to the necrome world, that looks a lot like an eliatrope one.

And of course, Yugo doesn’t hesitate to blame Qilby and already jumps to conclusions way too fast, immediately thinking he’s the traitor since he knows he’s the type to hop from planet to planet, not caring what happens to the places he went to just as long as he got to study them.

I love this man so much 💕💕✨

But if Yugo actually took a second to process the information, he would know that there was clearly something wrong with his accusation. Because how and where would Qilby have the energy and especially the time for all that? Yugo is completely aware that Qilby got freed by their mother and Nora not a very long time ago. If I had to assume when he was freed, I’d have to say just a bit earlier when Yugo and the others were still in Oropo’s dimension.

Not only that, but since he got freed not too long ago AND was being carefully monitored by Nora, then there was no chance he could have been the traitor. He just got out of the White Dimension (again) so he’d be drained of energy and didn’t have the eliatrope dofus and the Eliacube.

But a very important thing to note here is that Qilby was also joining Nora and the small eliatropes on the missions his mother would send them in which clearly implies that he’s not done with this world yet (he could have been participating only because he was looking for the eliatrope dofus at the time when Adamaï didn’t find them first but if that was the case, then he wouldn’t have stayed and help to fend off against the necromes since he doesn’t like it when other beings pursue him and his people without, ironically, knowing where they are).

With all these in mind, it's safe to say that Yugo’s anger towards Qilby is based on personal issues.

Their fight in the sky was so well choreographed that I just loved every single second of it and how none of their poses were recycled 💖

If I see this shit in the streets you bet ur ass I’m shitting myself.

Also,

Ankama left us with a cute little gift so unexpectedly that it made me bash my keyboard at the wall. 🥰🥰

This shot was pulled out of nowhere that it made my heart drop to my feet.

This is the living embodiment of what Yugo’s sleep paralysis demon looks like 💀

One thing’s for sure though.

I’m not ready for the next episode my stomach keeps giving me constipation symptoms just thinking about it.

[caker-baker]

Placate

The hero wanted to believe it was one of their friends, an agency member, someone else, anyone else, they would have taken a burglar at this point.

But no. No friend, agency member, or burglar would leave the front door open so purposefully, so dauntingly.

They knew this day would come, they just didn’t imagine it would be so soon.

The light turned on.

“Where have you been?” The villain asked from the lounge chair, petting the hero’s cat.

It was very obviously a rhetorical question, the villain knew where the hero had been, because now the villain was here, too.

The hero’s eyes flicked down to their purring cat comfortable in the villain’s lap, back up to the villain’s expectant face.

“I was–am on an assignment.” They wondered how fast they would have to be to get their cat and then get to the panic button.

Not fast enough.

If they needed to be placating, they could be. It would what drew the villain to them, they knew that now.

“An assignment that takes six months?” The villain asked, lazily waving their free hand around. “An assignment that gives you this? It’s cutesy, comfortable. Too small for my taste, but you know that.”

It was a test hidden behind poisonously pleasant words.

Will you be telling me the truth? Are you foolish enough to lie?

A question the hero didn’t want to answer, but there were limited options.

Placate, placate, placate.

“It’s my final assignment.” The hero clenched their fists, nails digging into skin, forcing upon them clarity to think, a reminder not to stutter, not to feel. “Going civilian, for my safety.”

“Oh?” The villain’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Do tell. What was so dangerous that your little agency felt the need to give you an identity change?

Another test.

“It was noted that the others–other–other villains,” The hero forced themselves to take a breath in, and clenched their fists even harder. “were targeting me, thinking it would hurt you.”

“Mm.” The villain cocked their head to the side, looking at the hero in an indecipherable way.

Disappointment? Amusement? Hunger?

The hero was never able to tell.

“Well. I can admit my faults, but this is an easy fix, my darling. I’ll handle the others. Now, the car’s been running just a bit too long, so if we could?”

The villain stood, still holding the hero’s cat.

“I can’t.” The hero’s fists unclenched, wondering if their cat could be swayed to jump from the villain’s arms. “I signed a contract. If I re-emerge, I could be considered an active threat, measures would be taken against me, um, I can’t.”

The villain smiled. “Now that is a bigger problem, but I could garner a few solutions. Come along, we can even bring…” They trailed off, looking at the cat’s name tag. “Chestnut.”

“I’ll become a public enemy. I don’t own the name Hero, I just use it, I–”

“And that’s the very problem, isn’t it?” The villain let Chestnut jump from their arms, watching the hero’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. “This day and age of heroics and villainy, it’s all very theatrical. We used to do this because of values, morals, plans for world domination.”

They gave the hero a once over.

“The other heroes are good at the limelight, thrive, even, it’s the whole reason they sign the contracts and take the name, but they can’t beat you in character, and the numbers of casualties in their fights versus yours speaks volumes. You weren’t good at the attention, not until I got to you, at least.”

“And I thank you for the help, but I’m done with the cameras, interviews, the saving people.”

“What a shame. You used to talk about being a symbol, about helping people, a hero through and through, not any of that pretending you’re a movie star. It’s what makes you…”

“Malleable?”

“I was going to say unique. No need for the dramatics.”

When the hero didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t even look like they were breathing, the villain’s polite mask dropped.

The hero hated that, how easily the villain could switch around their personality. They also hated the villain’s unblinking eyes.

The villain could blink, the hero was sure, but whenever it was just the two of them, the villain always made sure to be constantly watching.

“As I said, I can think of a few solutions to your problems.” They held out an expectant hand. “Shall we?”

“You were using me.” The hero blurted out. “You weren’t trying to help me be better, you were–you were–”

“I was what?”

“Making me into a tool. You would have turned me into a monster.”

The villain scoffed. “A monster? Please. You would have been beloved by the world, no contract or agency could hold you, you would have been second to none.”

“Except you.” The hero noticed that Chestnut was curling around the villain’s legs, slowly realizing that their best option at this point might have been to turn heel. “I would have been second to none except you.”

The villain smiled again, though it looked more like an animal bearing their teeth in annoyance.

“Eventually not. Once we’ve finished with the others, all the theatrics and the celebrity treatment, we could begin the real work. We could be equals, my darling.”

“You were manipulating me so that you could have the perfect opponent?” The hero felt bile rise in their throat.

There was evidence of the villain using them, solid proof shown directly after that scolding from the agency for allowing a villain to mentor them, but to hear it from the villain themselves was something else entirely.

“Twist my words in whatever way you’ll have. We both win. You won’t have to worry about the performance of being a hero, you can simply go out and save the day how you like. Tell me it’s not tempting. Now, it has been a treat tracking you down, my darling, they hid you well, but I must insist we leave. There’s a long drive ahead of us.”

“No.”

Chestnut had wandered closer to the hero.

“Ah, would you prefer we fly? It’s not my favorite, but–”

“I’m not going with you.” They reached down slowly, picking up Chestnut, hoping to make it look as though they were holding her for comfort.

The villain watched, their jaw clenched, anger barely concealed.

“I made you.” They seethed through an unusually quiet voice. “And if I have to, I will break you, and build you up again.”

The hero took a step back. “Find another hero to manipulate.”

With a deep breath, the villain collected themselves, never breaking eye contact with the hero.

“You know, part of the plan was to make you fall in love with me.” They admitted, taking only a step forward to match the hero’s step back. “Or at least have you grow fond enough of me that you wouldn’t betray me so easily. But obviously, it didn’t work. Lucky for the both of us, I can work with fear. You have an abundance of that, don’t you?”

The hero turned heel.

There was no placating a villain.

[itsbopp]

Hii can you do gwen x fem!reader who’s also a spiderwomen? (maybe with musically inclined abilities like hobie)

Her Spider-Muse - Across The Spiderverse | Headcanon

A/N: Thank you for the request! I feel like I went a little off the rails with this one, but I tried to still center it around what you wanted. Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: How would Gwen Stacy be with a girlfriend who’s a musically inclined Spider-Woman?

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Spoilers for Across the Spiderverse. Fem!Reader.

WORD COUNT: 1500+

Gwen is absolutely enraptured with you. She thinks of herself as the luckiest girl in the world, because not only are you her girlfriend, but you’re also Spider-Woman, and you can play instruments. She likes the fact that, other than the common identity you and her share, you both can easily relate with one another in an entirely different aspect. She loves music herself, even though she quit her band, but that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with her passion for playing the drums. They just weren’t her crowd, but you are to her, and she likes to take advantage of that every now and then by having you jam out with her whenever the two of you are having a particularly slow day of crime-fighting. 

Since you’re also Spider-Woman, it’s really interesting to know what your own special abilities are. You and her both knew of the spiderverse, and how there were billions of different Spider-People like you and her, but they all seemed to be different in their own right, and so she just thought the same applied to you. Especially when she had first met you late one night, while she was swinging back home to get some much needed rest. An odd looking, bright portal had appeared, and out came you. It was a rough landing, and you definitely made a sound of hurt at the harsh fall, but it didn’t take you very long to get up on your feet and freak out, because you had absolutely no idea where you had been taken. 

Your first interaction with her was a little rocky, but things swiftly smoothed out not too long after. Realizing that you were also Spider-Woman, who used music as a way to express your powers, in a way that was pretty different from your typical Spider-Person, was a pretty fascinating thing to her. Only later on did you and her realize that Hobie was similar in that way, but at the time, you were the only other Spider-Person she knew of. And then when you and her were eventually sucked out of your own worlds and plopped into Earth-1610, things just got a little crazy from there. You met Miles Morales, and then Peter Parker, and Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and even Porky Parker, which was kind of interesting to you. 

You didn’t know a pig could be Spider-Man.

Throughout that time, your relationship with Gwen grew. Because the both of you had known each other a bit longer than any of the other Spider-People you eventually met, you and her remained at each other's sides through the thick of everything all those months ago. When it was all said and done, you – unfortunately – went back home, but it wasn’t before the blonde confessed to you that she liked you, as more than a friend. And so, throughout the stand still, where you were stuck in your own world, and she was stuck in hers, it made things very difficult. For the both of you.

But then when the second round of portals appearing happened, and you were picked up by Miguel O’Hara and Jess Drew, you begged them to let you see Gwen. But it seemed as though your Spider-Woman was already twenty steps ahead of you. When you made it to Earth-928 and met a ton of other Spider-People who apparently resided in what they called a spider society, you also reunited with the person you had been wanting to see for far too long. 

That time of your life was an interesting one, though. Getting watches that allowed you to go into other worlds was pretty cool. Honestly, it was how you and Gwen spent some of your dates. You would bring your guitar with you, strap it to your back, and she would ask you to play some songs for her, while the two of you sat on the edge of some random building, in some random universes’ version of New York. Those nights in particular were comforting. They brought the both of you solace, and took your minds away from the thoughts of tomorrow, and what certain villains were planning on gifting you. 

Sitting on top of a building was also where you and her shared your first kiss. It was a quiet night. You were tired, and so was she. Your mask rested on your thigh as your hand rested over it to keep it in place, while Gwen had hers settled to the side. No one was able to see the two of you. It felt like a little secret safe space to you and her, and in a way, it was. You and her were simply talking about nothing particularly important, and then the topic of your favorite hobby, the thing you were passionate about, came up. You went on and on about it, a smile on your lips the entire time, and the blonde couldn’t help but stare at you as though you were the only other person in the world. 

A flurry of heavy emotions entered her stomach the longer you spoke, and it eventually got to a point where she quietly scooted in close, as she reached a hand up to rest it on your jaw. Immediately, you stopped speaking when you felt her gloved palm touch you, still adorned in her suit, and the moment your gaze met hers, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours. It was gentle and soft. So much so to the point where it almost brought tears to your eyes. The way she conveyed how much she cared about you through such a simple action threw your mind into a whirlwind. And so when the two of you inevitably pulled away, all you could do was stare at her with a parted mouth and an expression of utter shock. 

She thought it was cute. 

And honestly, you had a lot of other firsts with her. Not all of them were as soft as your first kiss, but those moments were still times in the relationship that you and her knew were always going to be remembered. 

Like smacking a villain in the face with your guitar. Or using a gadget you had made, that produced a deafening musical note. Unfortunately, it was a bust, considering it not only deafened your enemies, but also yourself and anyone else who was around. You and Gwen had ringing ears for a few days after that one, but hey, it was an experience neither of you regretted. What you did regret was breaking your instrument, though. So, you know… that wasn’t a very fun time for you. 

But all was fixed when you were gifted a spider-themed guitar for your birthday, by your wonderful girlfriend. She knew how attached you were to your prized instrument, and you definitely showed how thankful you were when you let out a happy little squeal the moment you unveiled the wrapped up box that encased your six string. Of course, you gave her a tight hug that proved how appreciative you were, and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling softly and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. She always liked it when you’d get overly excited over something that might have been seen as mundane to someone else.  

Since you and her are both Spider-Women, too, there’s definitely been a time where you’ve asked to do the cliche Spider-Man kiss. It came to your mind one time when you and Gwen were swinging through New York. You called to her and asked her about it, and she let out a loud laugh before voicing how she wasn’t entirely against the idea, but also how that movie kiss was way too over-fantasized. As in, she doubted it would have been nearly as enjoyable as it seemed in the movies. 

Still, she entertained the idea. 

It wasn’t terribly bad, but you and her would have much rather kissed each other normally. It was a cute moment, though. Lots of giggles and smiles against each others’ mouths, before one of you would pull away and let out an amused giggle that almost caused you to fall, whenever you decided to be Spider-Man in the situation. When Gwen tried being the latter, she actually did fall, but because of her abilities, she managed to correct herself before she bashed her head against the floor. 

After that, you and her stopped doing it. 

You didn’t want your girlfriend to get hurt, even though she was very durable, like you.

It was just that natural protective nature the both of you had towards one another. 

Naturally, it comes out when you and your partner both live a life that consists of fighting crime. But you and her make up for it. When everything has settled down, and the streets seem to be clean of idiotic villainous wannabes – for the time being – you and her sneakily go back to spider society to rest for the remainder of the night, or back to the apartment that you and her bought, for the sake of being closer to each other. Especially on the nights when nightmares creep into your minds, and you both are needing the comfort of one another. Either way, the two of you are inseparable. 

Just like you and your guitar. 

[ekingston]

Apart from show canon, at which point did u think it was too late for lena's immediate forgiveness to kara's identity reveal

oh boy. anon, here is where i come clean about my shoddy recollection of canon’s chronology. i’ve done so many fragmented rewatches and skipping back and forth—there’s a reason i rarely dabble with canon-adjacent stuff! and that even when i do, i create worlds where Lena figures it out herself! 

second road bump to answering this question is that i have a LOT of feelings about how things played out on the show, and most of them are incongruent with the tone of sgcw. i understand their narrative reasons for keeping the secret from Lena for so long! but the execution is so, so terrible! ignoring large swathes of canon and replacing them with my own is the only way i’m able to enjoy at least the last tiny handful of seasons!

here is where i spend an hour procrastinating from my WIPs, while not successfully answering your question at all:

to be perfectly clear: i adore most parts of canon Kara. and i think i may be hard on her in ways i wouldn't be if i didn’t relate to her so much. i think her backstory is extremely compelling and i admire her ability to hold on to her kindness and hope and joy even after losing everything that was important to her, even when she’s tired and lonely and mad. 

BUT. a healthy Lena—one who we were made to believe was finally freeing herself from Lex and Lillian, rising above the coping mechanisms she’d developed as an unwanted and emotionally neglected child? i don’t think that Lena would (should?) have forgiven canon Kara at all.

after the rift, canon Kara flitted between telling Lena she’d lied to her ‘to protect you’ to ‘one person who sees me only as Kara’ to ‘your last name’ to ‘didn’t want to lose you’ until she literally told Lena she was on her own, and she’d treat her like any other villain until Lena repented, even rejecting her apology at first, as if Kara’s own decisions had played no part in Lena’s downward spiral at all.

the Kara Lena would have forgiven is the much more cohesive and coherent Kara brought to us by our talented fix-it writers: a Kara who is willing to let herself be vulnerable and to second-guess her motivations, one who is able to put together a proper apology and actually listen to Lena's own. 

but, okay, lets table all of that. this is me trying really, really hard to entertain canon:

Kara and Lena’s friendship became painfully lopsided by season 3. i think that was, if i recall correctly, when the super-friends decided to trust Lena enough to regularly ask her for assistance—but not enough to let her be part of their in-group; it’s where they left Lena in the dark about the fact that her best friend had come close to plunging to her death right in front of Lena's eyes, and was actively still fighting for her life; where they tricked Lena into having an extremely personal conversation with J’onn, while he was wearing Kara’s features, only to make belly-laughing fun of her about it later. 

and even then, honestly, it might already have been too late. what about the aftermath of Jack’s death? was that season 2? Jack was Lena’s ex-everything, someone who genuinely loved her, who saw her through the fallout of Lex’s arrest. he was one of her last remaining friends, and Lena pressed the button to let him die in order to save Supergirl’s life. how would Lena knowing that Kara went through that with her, knowing Lena had chosen to save the life of her favorite person in addition to National City’s hero, have changed the way she felt about that horrible situation? that’s where that extremely wonderful heart-to-heart on the L-Corp couch happened, right? Kara swore she’d always be Lena’s friend—while keeping silent about the fact that she was there when Jack drew his last breath, that she had witnessed their final moments.

so—i really can’t tell you anon, i’m so sorry. the 100th episode already fabricated reasons why Kara couldn’t possibly come clean to Lena back when she made the conscious decision to be her friend (and not in a ‘keep your enemies close’ kind of way!), and i’m beginning to think that was the only moment Kara could have told Lena that would have kept her conscience completely clear. Kara should have made it part of her decision—either she was going to be Lena’s friend and give her the same trust Lena was giving her, or she would keep things professional, and keep her identity a secret from her. 

Kara tried to do both, and if i really think about it, i don’t believe that was ever fair.

[irondad-creator-awards]

And The Finalists Are...

The following are the 2023 Irondad Creator Awards Finalists for the fic-based  awards.

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inkinmyheartandonthepage The Same Soul by KatinaMoon Through the Multiverse and what Peter Found There by unctrlablyalt You Better Let Somebody Love You (Before It’s Too Late) by ambivalentangst THE NAME YOUR RANSOM ONE but only hope and sorrows end by iron_spider Count my Heartbeats by KatinaMoon Did We Come Close To Having It All by for_the_night Extraction by Niniblack man in a can by jinxquickfoot Order Fulfillment by Sara (ctrsara) Return to me, the one I love so endlessly by SuperHeroTiger The Same Soul by KatinaMoon Very normal totally regular human intern by Winterturtle Worst Summer Vacation by mystercyclone THE SOMETIMES-HAPPY FAMILY ONE Are we out of the woods yet? by bluesweatshirt Happy Endings are Complicated by  MazeEternal Happy Hibernation Day by for_the_night i know that there’s a place for us by Madelinedear Ice Ice, Baby by OllieCollie Magic Makers by Sara (ctrsara) One in a Million by inkinmyheartandonthepage Post-Surgery Sleepover by Sara (ctrsara) The Best 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You Mean a Private Twitter Account? by villain_klaus Sirens in My Mind by OllieCollie The Cycle of Shame by Cheerios_me_lovely Through the Multiverse and what Peter Found There by unctrlablyalt Under The Advent Of Stars by GigiDoyle Whatever it Takes by RonnielByrne THE ONE THAT’S A WHOLE NEW WORLD A Pirate's Life For Us by Lbigreyhound13 Dear Fellow Traveler by SuperHeroTiger Do I Deserve This? by Peters12&3bros Golden Threads by Winterturtle Home is Where the Heart Is by SuperHeroTiger If These Wings Could Fly by For_The_Night So Many Things to Say by happyaspie Prince of the Forest by Tess_Moon The Silver Prince by Marialf2001 The Truth Is (Everyone Is Confused By Quantum Physics) by EvieFuller THE SERIES THAT SWEPT YOU AWAY Dear Fellow Traveler by SuperHeroTiger Fostering Hope by happyaspie From the Same Star Series by Sara (ctrsara) Heir Peter fics by OnlyForward Peter is a Precious Chickpea by Bergen Strands in the Rope by Sara (ctrsara) The Meaning of Inevitable by Mendeia The One Where Bucky Kidnapped Peter Stark as a Toddler by Niniblack These Words Written on my Wrist by KatinaMoon Wake up and smell the coffee by Bergen THE ONE THAT GAVE YOU ALL THE LOVE 5 times Tony Dealt With a Loopy Peter by for_the_night Do You Remember Forgetting? by Silverstar1 From My Weakness I Drew Strength by Mendeia I Know How Much You Love Surprises  by opal_earrings Not Your Peter Parker by Peters12&3bros Only Suckers Wear Scarves by Bergen Through the Multiverse and what Peter Found There by unctrlablyalt Tony Stark Finds Himself a Family (That Doesn't Suck) by youcancallmearrow Where There's Smoke by juiceontherocks Worst Summer Vacation by mysterycyclone THE ALL-TIME FAVORITE He Looks on Tempest by iron_spider Heir Peter fics by OnlyForward Identity Theft by KitCat992 More Peril in Thine Eye by iron_spider Prince of the Forest by Tess_Moon Roo-niverse (IronDad AU) by juiceontherocks Sins of the Fathers by geekymoviemom The Chasm Between by TheSleepingOwl The Ties That Bind Us by Winterturtle Turn Back the Clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by madasthesea Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara) Who Says You Can't Go Home by peacockgirl THE 2021/2022 FAVORITE A different kind of heat by KatinaMoon but only hope and sorrows end by iron_spider Grief Has No Timeline by Sara (ctrsara) Long Story Short (It Was A Bad Time) Or AIs Don't Forget by peacockgirl Men of Iron by spdrman One of Those Weeks by juiceontherocks Peter Parker's home for wayward people and animals by Bergen Prince of the Forest by Tess_Moon Survivor's Guide to the Galaxy by fanfic1892 The Long Game by Niniblack These Webs We Weave by SpaceCowboysFromMars Through the Multiverse and what Peter Found There by unctrlablyalt

[nerdieforpedro]

Last Line Tag Game

rules: in a new post, show the last line(s) you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

Tagged by @tinytinymenace @djarinmuse @chronically-ghosted @pedroshotwifey

So I think I’ll give three last lines, because it’s what I’ve been working on, first up is Din Djarin smut. I was supposed to be writing fluff, between @alltheglitterandtheroar and @megamindsecretlair it changed for the better and teasing is always fun. ☺️

Both arms pull Din’s head to your chest, the sharp inhale of air before he’s buried in your body has you whining. The intensity of just two of this thick fingers have you close to your second orgasm but he removes them, a pop then a second as he mouth part from your nipple. “Taste yourself, then you’ll come twice for me.”

Second is from “This is the Neighboorhood Din” my modern Din AU:

“Dear Lord in heaven I am not dressed or prepared to talk to that sort of man any day.” She muttered as Ms. Harris made her way down the stairs toward her, she hugged her, and her arms wrapped around her as well, eye still lingering on the man sitting on the porch. His sweatpants did not leave much to the imagination. They weren’t tight by any means; one could just trace the lines. Thick thighs and well… heavy in the middle is the most polite way to say it. The only way she can think to describe it while hugging her aunt.

Third, last line from chapter 5 of “The Lake Between Us” (yes I do have future chapters written I planned! Unheard of in Nerdie-land)

“That I did Moonbeam. You should be cautious of my motives, but I can start at the beginning of my troubles for you if you like.” He placed his hand on hers, running up her arm to her shoulder and drew a small circle around her mole. “Be forewarned, the past is neither rosy nor glamorous. It is fraught with hardship, double-crosses and some death.”

Moonbeam grinned, nodding as he spoke, “Sounds like a thriller Ezra. I’m all ears. Add a dash of romance and some mistaken identity and you have yourself a movie marathon.”

“I’m sure you’d be riveted to hear it.”

“That I would.” Moonbeam crosses her legs and leans forward, touching his chin with a finger, “Speak.”

Lastly, I might be trying finish my Dave York series finally. 👀 Or one of them, though I’m not sure all of them are on Tumblr. I think I write too much stuff and it get’s jumbled. This is a softer Dave:

At her core, Kiara felt safe with him. It hurt to admit though she wasn’t exactly sure why, pride maybe? Maybe she wanted to continue to be independent but she hadn’t been for a few months now.

No. Not when she really thought about it.

Her head was leaning against the steering wheel, the nurse had seen his SUV parked in the driveway. Dave pretty much lived with her now, though she didn’t remember giving him a key. He hadn’t needed a key their first night together either.

I’m also working on “Roc & Doc” and crafting the murder mystery since I killed off Rockford’s partner and introduced his brother. What role will his brother play? We’ll see. Also, if you’re going to be a furry for the night, make sure you can in and out of your suit. 😎

Chapter 5 of “Weddings 101 with Dieter” is under way as well. I want a lot to be in it, might be too much. We’ll see how it turns out, also smut because Dieter’s gotta get Maya’s dress off - he did promise her that. 😘 Half-ass and Bridezilla are in full swing!

It’s a lot like always because it’s Nerdie, what else am I supposed to do? Too many ideas, not enough follow-through. I did four instead of three. 😵

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @rhoorl (for the sweatpants) @linzels-blog for Din @inept-the-magnificent @soft-girl-musings @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @secretelephanttattoo @goodwithcheese @undercoverpena @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @lady-bess @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @gemmahale @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tightjeansjavi @frenchiereading @boliv-jenta @thefrogdalorian @trulybetty @kewwrites @beefrobeefcal @fhatbhabie

And whoever else saw all this and was like, let me do it too! ☺️

[currently-tired]

I had an idea i’ve been considering recently and ran w it.

J+H/ tgs fic based on the idea that Jekyll starts thinking he sees Hyde in the mirror.

I love. identity crisis’s. and blurring the lines between your sense of self.

Jekyll walked past the standing mirror briskly, sparing it only the slightest passing glance. (It was a busy day even for his standards, and he had no time to spare for preening himself.)

Everything was as it should’ve been.

His deep red, almost brown waistcoat and bright red cravat, perfectly tied. A flash of green.

Shoulder length blonde-

(WHAT?-)

He recoiled, and took one stuttered step back.

He stared into the mirror with a sort of all consuming franticness that ate into his mind.

Short brown hair, freckles, and just barely tanned skin greeted him, almost like an old friend. (And what a welcome friend it was!-)

But still, they looked at themself in the mirror again, as if to confirm that he was himself.

(…Was Hyde not himself?…)

As he stared at his own(?) reflection with an open gape, [Something that somehow looked foreign on his own face…] they could’ve sworn his eyes gleamed green, if even just for a split second. (Was it a trick of the light? Something they imagined?-)

They stared into the glass, mind racing, until their heart stilled. (…It took him grabbing his own hair and tugging it harshly, to fully believe it was still his own…)

…Still, even with that confirmation, their mind raced…

[What the fuck was wrong with him today?-]

“Thank God.” They whispered aloud several horrible moments later, when it truly sunk it. (But why did their voice feel too high? Too smooth? Too synthetic and fake?-)

Unwillingly, that racing in his heart returned.

(And that feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong!-)

…He pushed it aside, in favor with continuing with his day.

(Just because they were having a crisis did not mean that the world stopped in its tracks! Henry Jekyll was still a gentleman with a busy schedule.)

But for the rest of the day, he avoided mirrors…

(Unwilling to even imagine the possibility-)

Traded glares behind his shoulder…

(Was the shadow he cast always so short?-)

And flinched away at any sort of contact. (They felt as if even the slightest touch from anyone would set them off. Into what, they didn’t know….)

…A reaction, so unlike himself, but perfectly like themself?

The idea that they would be able to see what was behind his eyes, and in his mind?-

[That secret they felt like they were concealing more and more poorly as the days went on…]

Lanyon had commented that they he seemed a ‘little off’ that day.

They waved him off with a comment and a laugh. (Was that their true laugh? Or the unrestrained wild one, that drew stares from all the way across the bar?)

(What was real?-)

Later at night in his office, he stared ahead with a numb expression.

…Maybe they should abstain from the potion. It was clearly harming their mind in some capacity.

(They had a mild history of hallucinations, particularly when tired, stressed, or both.

[An overactive imagination, they said, in his youth!-]

…It was probably just stress! Having the sole weight of the society squarely on their shoulders was a painful experience, that grew more and more so as the days went on.)

Abstinence. Cutting themself off completely.

[From the one thing they had that relieved that stress…]

…

They glared at it. Blood red, and unactivated, sitting in their cabinet innocently, next to a dozen other poisons and chemicals.

(That was the cause of all the problems in his life. Not his actions. Not his repression. Not their preferences, or his presentation of themself. Not the life he chose for himself.

It was all that damned potion’s fault. They should’ve known it would’ve led to destruction!-

Sulphur was the Devil’s substance. Fire and brimstone, and burning in Hell for all eternity…)

[How dare they ever think sulphur would be their savior?-]

It got more and more ironic the more they thought about it.

How about that? From one death, quick and done with [Well, at the point it had gotten to…], to another type of death, slow and drawn out, and arguably worse.

With a physical death, they would die, and be done with it all.

(They tried to tell themself they weren’t afraid of Hell… {Ha!-}

Just another lie to add to the list, ever growing, and already so long they were shocked it didn’t trip him with every step!-)

But mental death? (A death in which they couldn’t tell himself from themself? A death where their [his?-] names became foreign, and familiar all at the same time?)

A death where their face was never their own?

That would be a fate worse than death!

(…Was it a fate they were succumbing to?-)

And so he heaped that damned potion with curses.

(All too familiar to the way they had heaped himself with curses. Calling himself deviant and sinful, unlovable, and something so hideous, they didn’t even have a name for it yet.

If he hated himself, hated those ugly horrible things about himself, they would stop, right?-

[Wrong!-]

…It never did!-)

[How funny!-]

That [Fucking!-] serum!

It split him into two countenances. The original, that shone with kindness and smiles, and a perfectly learned gentlemanly poise, and one dripping with evil and malice. (Sometimes he wishes it had split his mind too, just as he had intended! It would’ve made everything so much easier! Negated the need for this worthless downwards spiral!-)

A marvel of science and alchemy, they had thought, back when they were depressed and seeking something, anything, to help!

(It was a marvel of science that dissolved their very sense of self!-)

…

Who was real? Who was fake?

The Doctor, or the Person? The good, or the sinful?

(What was fake? What was real? What did that word even mean?!-)

[Was it real because they decided it was? Was it fake because no one else knew? (Was it fake because they refused to acknowledge it half of the time?-) Those thoughts and feelings, emotions and beliefs… Those ideas, so central to themself? Were they real? Fake?]

…..

Who even were they?-

{They had to admit that-}

…They didn’t know!-

They cackled to themself in the way Hyde did.

Tapped their foot on the ground restlessly, in the way Jekyll did.

(Some sort of Frankenstein’s monster of behaviors, actions, words, speaking styles!-)

They hummed absently, as their fingers drummed on their desk, lost in thought…

(Abstinence was for addicts.

…They weren’t addicted, were they?)

Abstinence was for people who had a problem. They had plenty of problems, but they were sure this wasn’t one of them.

It wasn’t!..

[…Why did they bother making excuses to themself? Especially such laughably bad ones?-]

So they drank the potion.

Donned their other skin, that was feeling less and less like a skin, and more and more like themself by the day.

(They could drown out identity problems with distractions. Pleasure, and fights, and adrenalin, and alcohol…

It had worked before! Why wouldn’t it now?-)

[stxrmylxve]

First: I'm sorry, I know you just stated an event and I've been sending a bunch of requests, so PLEASE take your time and put off anything you need to! Never feel obligated to fulfill a request if you've got other stuff going on, I promise I'm understanding of the fact that we all have lives and other things going on in them.

Second: Apologizing a second time, because I decided to send this one in (I had it saved in my drafts and was going to scrap it) because I got really sad and needed some comedy.

Kazutora, Mikey, Chifuyu, Baji, Kokonoi, and Draken with an S/O who playfully runs away from them when they're about the be questioned regarding pranks being pulled on them (I.E. hiding Draken's tools in unusual places, putting sticky notes on their clothes with funny messages that make others giggle, drawing cat whiskers on Chifuyu with washable markers but while he sleeps) S/O be like: "Wha? WHO DID THAT? Uh-uh, not me, NO sir! Innocent till proven guilty," and if they chase S/O: "AAAAAH IT WASN'T MEEEE!"

A/N: sorry for the late answer, life hit and holy fuck it is unnecessarily stressful sometimes huh?

Kazutora:

What you did: Left a funny note on the back of his shirt

okay kazutora wants a good start back in life, and when people start laughing at him it makes him a little suspicious again

he has no clue what he is wearing half the time, muchless cares to looks for a message

…why do i feel like he might get a little mad?

in private, ofc

he would rant about it to you for a good while and it is hard to keep your composure

“…you wrote it on my back?”

… he chases you for hours, beware.

Mikey:

What you did: Didn’t give him a flag on his food

you’re his flag person, how could you forget a flag for him?!

throws a damn tantrum and calls up draken so that he will come to bring the flag for him

”you don’t have my flag? …why.?”

he gets so sad oml

“I just forgot it, that’s all. It’s in my bag at home…”

he glares at you for a good day or so (or more)

Chifuyu:

What you did: Drew a cat in sharpie on his chest

chifuyu shows his chest at meetings. okay that sounds weird. he goes on rants and for some reason breaks out his chest and wabam, there is a huge cat face he didn’t know about on full display

mikey has to stiffle a laugh since this is an official meeting, but chifuyu flat out leaves

”did you seriously draw on my chest last night?”

”me? noooo, I would never. Hey i gotta go walk peke j outside to go swimming, i gotta go-“

poor baby

Baji:

What you did: Hid his favorite hairbrush

this man is a DIVA and will FIGHT for his hairbrush

anyways, hr gets so pissed and reminds me of inosuke randomly yelling

”WHO THE FUCK TOOK MY HAIRBRUSH”

… you’re the only one in the house. obviously it was you. duh.

he questions you day in and out trying to solve the ‘mystery’, but when it shows up mysteriously the next day, he tackles you again for questioning

no literally, tackles you onto the bed and asks you sm 💀

Koko:

What you did: stored a wad of cash for tonight’s dinner/shopping elsewhere

he doesn’t really care until you throw a fake fit saying how much you had been looking forward to paying in cash for your stuff

then he perked up, but got nervous instead

he often misplaces things, but never his money. thought it wad a robbery and checked the cameras, only to find you snooping around

he is fine w it though, he even plays along and acts dumb

”you know i saw you on the cameras, right?”

”me? no. that was my.. sister, koko. we looks identical heh.”

Draken:

What you did: ‘Accidentally’ misplaced a few of his tools

you can not be playing games the man is on a TIME CRUNCH

he flips the whole shop upside down before you rush in to stop with panic

”baby it was just a prank! they’re over there.” you usher him to a corner where everything was neatly places, and a huge sigh escapes his lips

not only was everything there instead of robbed, it was all still organized neatly enough to his liking

he has a different approach and pecks your lips with a small ‘thanks’ before going back to work

a total mystery 💁‍♀️

[quasi-normalcy]

Comedian and playwright from Curve Lake First Nation Drew Hayden Taylor is intimately familiar with the concept of pretendians. He’s been writing about them for years and his documentary The Pretendians explores everything from fake Indigenous art to pretendians’ tendency to be found in the arts and academia. While many things weren’t surprising during his research and filming, Taylor said one thing stood out. “The vast majority of people who have been outed, and I’m using air quotes, are usually smart, intelligent, talented people that could have made a very successful career for themselves without claiming to be Indigenous,” he said in an interview with Global News. “So I’m trying to figure out, why? Why did they latch onto (a claim of Indigeneity) when they didn’t need it?“ He’s come up with three reasons: belonging, financial benefits and family lore. “First, everybody likes to belong, right? … They like to belong to a group of people that have similar concerns. And let’s face it, being Indigenous in this day and age has a certain amount of exoticism and appeal to them,” he said. “The second is obviously certain financial benefits, from getting cheap gas or cheap cigarettes up to the higher levels of writing books, making films, getting important positions in academia, society, organizations, companies, etc. “And the third, in many ways, is the most common: family lore. You have a grandfather who says, ‘Oh yes, I believe my great grandfather had some native blood,’ and they tend to believe that and it becomes part of the family identity without anyone bothering to check it out.”

[the-frostiest-of-flakes]

Test Run

Fandom: rotbtd | Characters: Merida, Rapunzel, Hiccup, Jack Frost

Prompt(s): Merida, Favorite AU

Word count: 1851 | Warnings: None | Read on AO3

Summary: While giving her new gear a test run, Merida nearly dies and winds up meeting several budding heroes. Some more impressive than others.

Author's Note: I wrote this for the third week's prompts of the 2023 Big Four Fest, which were Merida and Favorite AUs. My favorite au is a very specific one by lucidorange on tumblr, and it's based around the larger superhero au. Unfortunately, the creator of the au deleted their tumblr account a while back, so everything I know about the au is thanks to the wayback machine and reblogs of the comic. (You can find part 1 here)

I tried to give the triplets more unique personalities while still staying in line with the au versions. I hope you enjoy!

---

Merida DunBroch, daughter of the wildly successful owner and CEO of DunBroch Technologies, Fergus DunBroch, was doing her homework.

Or, that’s what she was supposed to be doing.

In reality, she was perched on a flat roof thirty stories up, the lights of the city shining like stars below her.  It was beautiful, and the wind gently caressing her face only added to the serenity.  Unfortunately, it was currently being ruined by multiple voices jabbering in her ear.  Tuning back in, she found that they were still going on about features and safety and blah, blah, blah.  Pretty much everything she didn’t care about.

“—and if you notice sparks, tell us immediately and drop the—”

“If you’re done yapping,” she interrupted, grip tightening on her bow, “I’m gonna take this gear for a spin now.”

“Be careful,” buzzed one of the three nearly identical voices in her ear.  Her amazing sister-senses told her it was Hubert.  “This is just a test run — we don’t know if there are any glitches with the suit or bow.”

A second voice — Hamish — piped up, “Not that there will be any, considering we made it.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Harris broke in.

Merida rose, a wolfish grin spreading across her face as she looked to the ground below.  So, so far below.  “When have I ever needed encouragement?”

Three matching groans reached her ears, but she barely heard them over the rush of wind as she stepped over the edge—

And started free-falling.

All she could hear was the roaring of air in her ears as it whipped strands of hair out of her ponytail and stole the breath from her lungs.  Her gut was long gone, left behind on the rooftop.  The city lights pulsed brighter, getting ever closer.  To most this would be a nightmare.  But to her…to her it was exhilarating.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end.  Grasping an arrow from her quiver, she drew her bow, changing the setting to “Zipline” with a flick of her thumb.  Ah, the beauty of having genius inventor brothers.  Aiming for a nearby building, Merida fired.

And was promptly disappointed.

Yes, the arrow flew true, arching through the air with the precision only a master could give, but it did so without the intended zipline attached.  Leaving Merida still falling to her doom.

Okay, so maybe she should have checked that feature before jumping off a building.

A lump of panic rose in her throat.  “Uh, guys?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already broken it,” came Harris’s response.

Oh, she was never going to live this down, was she?  “I, uh.  Might be about to die.”

There was silence on the other end.  All at once, her brothers’ voices came pouring over each other in crackling mayhem.

“It hasn’t even been five minutes—”

“—You are so irresponsible—”

“—More inheritance for me!”

Gritting her teeth, she was about to cut through their chatter when something soft and golden wrapped itself around her waist and promptly yanked her to the side.  She was no longer falling, but being swung like a pendulum.  Grabbing at the fabric that led away from her waist into the dark of the night, she realized it wasn’t fabric at all.  It was thousands of strands of golden hair.

What in the bloody hell…?

A moment later she was dropped — surprisingly gently — onto another roof, much lower than the one she had originally been on.  The hair loosened and fell away, disappearing in a flash.

“I don’t know what happened,” said a voice from the shadows, “or what you’re going through, but killing yourself isn’t the answer.”

Merida sprung to her feet, narrowed eyes scanning her surroundings.  It seemed to be the roof of an apartment building, with a box-like entrance to a stairwell in one corner.  And yet, no sign of whoever had— wait, there!  There, in the shadows of the entrance, was a girl, parts of her golden hair somehow still managing to gleam in the dark, giving away her position.

Her hair…

Calling it long would have been an understatement.  “Long” gave the impression that the hair went down to her waist, maybe a little ways past.  But the mass of yellow didn’t stop there.  It went to her feet, and then continued off, spilling over the edge of the building like a waterfall of spun gold.

“Are you okay?” The girl asked again, her voice just as soft as her hair had been.

“‘m fine.  And I wasn’t trying to kill myself.“

The girl stepped out of the shadows, confusion making furrows in her brow.  They looked out of place, and Merida had the sudden urge to smooth them out.  “Then what were you doing?”

“Testing out my gear.”  She motioned to herself and the bow that was still in her hand.

The girl’s green eyes lit up with understanding.  “Oh!  You’re like me then!”

“Like you?”

“Yeah, you know.  Superhero, vigilante, whatever you want to call it.”  She flashed a grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  “This is so cool!  I’ve been working alone for so long — well, not really alone, I mean I’m technically working alongside the police but that’s nothing like having an actual partner — not that you’re going to be my partner, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Whoa, slow your horses!”  Everything was suddenly falling into place, from the freaky hair to the large purple crown perched on the girl’s head.  “You’re Swift, aren’t you?  The vigilante people are claiming is running around?”

The girl — Swift — nodded.  “Yes, that’s me.”

“I thought you were an urban legend!”

“Nope, I’m real.”  The smile on her face grew ever wider.  “And so are you!  Ohhh, this is so cool!”

Despite herself, Merida could feel one of her eyebrows raising.  This was…not how she had expected her first meeting with a vigilante to go.  Granted, she had never really thought about it before, but Swift had a strangely innocent demeanor about her.  She wasn’t remotely hardened or threatening.

Three loud beeps sounded from Swift’s pocket.  She withdrew what looked to be a burner phone and grimaced at whatever was displayed on the screen.  “Sorry, I gotta go.  There’s a fire downtown and a…dragon?”  She squinted at the screen.  “I think that’s a typo.”

Merida perked up.  A fire and possibly also a dragon?  That would be a perfect test run for the gear!  Never mind the fact that her original test run had almost ended in her own demise.  “Mind if I come with you?”

The look on Swift’s face could only be described as ecstatic.  “Of course!  But, uh…since you’re having some issues with your equipment, would you like me to carry you?  It’ll be faster that way.”

Well, she certainly didn’t want to die or get left behind.  “Sure.”

Golden hair came whipping up and around her waist, and a second later she was swinging through the air again.  It took all her willpower to suppress a scream.  From the way the city was whizzing past below, she had been right to agree to Swift’s offer.  She would have been left in the dust long ago otherwise.

Soon the sound of sirens and the sight of orange light licking the night sky reached her senses.  As well as…Snow?

A moment later the two of them were safe on the ground outside a burning apartment building, above which was a dark cloud.  From the cloud fell a flurry of flakes, killing the fire slowly but surely.

Swift frowned.  “That’s…weird.  It’s the middle of September.”

Merida’s comm piece crackled to life.  “So…are you still there?”  Came Hamish’s voice.  “I need to know if I won the bet or not.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yes, I’m here.”  At Swift’s quizzical look, she gestured to her ear.  “‘m talking to my brothers, sorry.”

“Dang it.  Wait, are you with someone?”

“Just another hero I met.  Turns out that vigilante, Swift, is real.”  Merida followed said hero as she ran towards the entrance.  “And now we’re gonna stop a—” she broke off at the sound of shattering glass.

The two girls skidded to a halt as a large black bundle landed in front of them.  It was metallic, and as it slowly uncurled itself they realized what it was.

It was a metal dragon.

The craftsmanship was astounding.  From the textured metal and leather to the glowing green lights that constituted eyes.  There was an air of intelligence in them, making Merida second-guess whether it was really insentient or not.

The reason for its previous ball-like state became evident as well.  Clutched between its paws — talons? — was a child.  Covered in ash and smoke, Merida could barely make out where the kid’s dark skin ended and the gray smudges began.

“That’s the last of them!” Called a voice from above.  A moment later a brown-haired teenage boy dressed in black and green landed a little ways away, not noticing the two heroines.

All at once, the fire went out.  Instead of flickering flames, the building was now covered in layers of frost and ice.

Merida gawked at the now blue-tinted structure.  Just how many super-powered people are running around in this city?!

Swift was helping the dragon move the poor girl to a safe spot for when the paramedics would arrive, acting as if this kind of thing happened every day.  And hey, maybe it did.  Before Merida could decide what to do to help, another boy landed next to the first, this one seeming to float down with effortless ease.  His blue eyes were locked on her as he pulled down his hood, revealing a shock of white hair.

He grinned.  “Hey, look at that!  We’ve got an audience.”

The Brunet turned, finally noticing her.  He flinched, shooting a glare at his companion.  “Jack!  You said we wouldn’t be noticed!”

“Actually, I said we wouldn’t get in the papers.  Big difference.”  He was in front of her in a flash, lifting off of the ground like a leaf on a breeze.  “That’s some outfit you got there.  Who are you?”

Merida pursed her lips.  She certainly wasn’t giving this weirdo her name.  If she was going to be a vigilante like Swift, she’d need an alias.  “Atlas,” she finally answered.  “And what are you two supposed to be?  Dragon Boy and Frosty the Snowman?”

The brunet made a noise akin to a broken squeaky toy.  Jack only smiled wider.  “Close.  The name’s Frost.  And you can call my sidekick whatever you like.”

 “I am not your sidekick!”

Merida sighed internally.  These two yahoos were obviously just playing around — although the metal dragon was pretty impressive.  

“Well, aren’t you Miss Popular,” Harris’s voice rang in her ear.  “Just how many people have you met tonight?”

She had forgotten her comm was on during that whole exchange.  Great.  She turned away from Frost and his sidekick/partner/friend and whispered through clenched teeth, “Shush.  I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.  I promise.”

“You better.  We’re already making popcorn.”

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Tommy and the Babysitter

The second advent reject from Cloud Nine & Other Stories. Set later in 2024 than the first reject and the eventual story, Luke is six months old.

“Tommy, baby, I love this kid, but we need a night off.”                

Tommy looked up from where he was wrist-deep in pairing tiny socks.  Maria was in the doorway, lightly bouncing a fussy six-month-old in her arms.  The baby in question had a mouthful of her hair and from this angle, it kind of looked like he was sporting a dramatic moustache.

There were any number of appropriate babysitters in Jackson who could help the Millers out.  The most promising was the one right across the street.  Tommy knew how good his brother was with kids and Maria was kind of starstruck by Joel’s affinity for it, repressed for over twenty years, but comfortably finding its way back into Joel’s psyche.

“He’s always looked after someone,” Tommy explained later as they packed Luke a big bag.  He would not be staying overnight – Maria didn’t feel ready for that – but it was a long enough time that Tommy felt the need to arm Luke with his own supplies in the case of any eventuality.  “First it was me, then it was Emma, then it was Sarah – ”

He paused, then drew the zip decisively along its track.

“Then Tess, then Ellie.  He can’t help it.  He’s just hardwired that way.”

“Is Tess okay with this?” Maria passed him another hat, just in case the first vanished into thin air.  “She’s – a bit less …”

“Tess and Ellie are goin’ round to Lachie’s.”

“And was that before or after Tess heard Joel was babysitting Luke?”

“I don’t know.”  Tommy shrugged.  Then, sensing Maria’s eyes still on him, he hoisted the bag on his shoulder and looked at her.  “Don’t worry.  We haven’t chased her out of home.  Joel don’t do anything she’s not okay with, not even for me.  And Tess has always been … Tess has always been …”

“What?”

“Particular about not comin’ between Joel and me.”

“If anything happens to her, it’s on you.”

Joel had threatened him with that two decades ago, when they left the mountains of Tennessee.  And something had happened to Tess in Indianapolis, and Tommy had never quite been able to shake a sense of responsibility for it, even though Joel had never once used that warning against him. 

“But did she?”

“What?”

“Come between you.”

Tommy lifted the bag over one shoulder.  He thought about it for a moment.  “No.  There are a lot of  things I can blame on Tess, but that ain’t one of them.  And I would’ve been fuckin’ blind to ever think it could’ve been any different.  Them two were meant for each other, right from the start.  Anyone could see that.”

Maria raised her eyebrows, amused.  “You liked Tess?”

“Am I in trouble, ma’am?”

She grinned.  “No.”

“No,” he said, pretty sure that was true.  It was a long time ago, after all.  “People either loved Tess or hated Tess. She can be kind of divisive like that.  I was one of the few inbetweeners.”

“Uh huh,” Maria gave him that irritating, knowing smile she wore when she thought she knew best. 

Tommy rolled his eyes.  She hadn’t been there, and she didn’t know.  It was complicated back then.  They were so young.  The Outbreak was still with them, so fresh, and there was so much they still didn’t know about the fungus, each other, and most of all, themselves. 

The truth was Tommy sometimes had difficulty connecting up the man he’d been then with the one he was now.  He talked about it in the sessions he attended on Tuesday nights, a group of men around about his age.  None of their experiences were identical but there were common themes across all their pathways.  It was reassuring to be heard.  It was easier to relate to pre-Outbreak Tommy Miller than it was with the man he’d become between about 2008 to 2018.  That was surprisingly common amongst the men in his group.  Stormin’ Norman called it the “do or die” time.  It was the point where everyone lost themselves, tried different ways to make it, then found themselves on the other side trying to reconcile with all the things they’d done. 

He wished Joel would go with him just once.  Even if he didn’t talk.  Just go once and listen.

“You right to go?”  Tommy asked.

Maria nodded.  She was already rugged up – scarfed and zippered and booted and behatted – ready for their precious few hours to themselves. 

Joel met them at the front door, rubbing his hands together and turning his head from side to side to squint at the gently falling snow. 

“Are you sure this is okay?”  Maria asked. 

Tommy could hear the slight catch in her voice.  All her reservations about Joel were far from resolved.  She was choosing to trust Tommy over her own instincts. 

“I’ve got him,” Joel said, gently lifting Luke into his arms.  “We’ll have fun.”

“Yeah, he’s a fuckin’ hoot,” Tommy commented as he eased the bag on to Joel’s shoulder. 

He stepped back with a thank you on his lips and paused.  Joel just standing there, looking down at the new, tiny baby in his arms.  It could’ve been 1989.  Tommy swallowed his words instead and backed away, nodding.  His gloved hands found Maria’s.

Tommy and his wife headed down the road.  Their breath escaped in warm puffs before them, caught in the twinkling lights.  Fairy and streetlights were strung up all over, the network expanding further than it had the previous year as more neighbourhoods within Jackson opened up.  Their population growth was slow and controlled.  They had lost more people during the year than they had gained.  But it was exciting to see the Jackson experiment was working. 

“What are you thinking about?”  Maria asked.

“Just – naw, it’s nothin’,” he answered, shying away from it.  He nodded to the towering Christmas tree.  “Every time I see that, I think I’m in a fuckin’ Hallmark movie.”

“Nothing wrong with one of those,” Maria replied, glancing over their shoulder to the blue house.  “I used to look forward to curling up with one of those and a glass of wine.”

“I thought you liked those shitty action flicks.”

“I can like both,” she reminded him.

(I think the point of this was Tommy talking about finding something that worked for him, finally being part of something bigger, which was his core drive throughout Driftersverse but idk).

[quibbs126]

Hey! I like your art and I wanted to ask you if you can do a cream unicorn and dark choco fankid?

Well I’m glad you like it, and here’s Violet Sugar Cookie

So to be perfectly honest…I didn’t actually have a food in mind when I designed her. The thing that I based her on was the Solid Violet Sugar Crystal ingredient from Ovenbreak, since it was a liked gift for Dark Choco, and it was about dreams, and I know Cream Unicorn Cookie has some association with dreams, so I just named her Violet Sugar. I’m not sure about the name, since it isn’t really similar to Dark Choco or Cream Unicorn, but I can’t really think of anything else. There’s not that many purple desserts that aren’t just like, blueberry flavored or something similar, and I wanted her name to start with Violet. If anyone has something better, feel free to suggest

Solid Violet Sugar Crystal:

Her colors were also inspired by Cream Unicorn’s Nebula Butterfly costume in Ovenbreak, but I think her design was mostly Dark Choco, with a few Cream Unicorn elements. I based her sword off of Dark Choco’s Young Prince sword, because of the whole dream/memory thing, and it sort of being like a reminder of his past. The gem in her sword is probably a Solid Violet Sugar Crystal. Oh and another thing, her hair is supposed to be in a braid, you just can’t really see it. But overall, I think I like her design quite a bit

So on to Violet Sugar, so basically my thought process with her was “warrior + dreams = dream warrior?” And so yeah, basically she’s a guardian of dreams that fights against nightmares (I assume in my head that nightmares are like actual creatures she fights in the dream world). She primarily focuses on the dreams/nightmares of younger Cookies, as she feels they deserve to have happy dreams, though she does occasionally go into adults’ dreams. I think she like, physically shows up in their dreams to fight off the nightmares. I’m not sure how she gets to the world of dreams, whether it’s just through sleeping or she like, just physically goes there, like she disappears from the waking world and goes into the sleeping one.

I have kind of a funny idea for the second one, where it’s just like, there’s some family drama going on and she’s just like “nope not doing this, I’mma go fight nightmares” and just disappears like that peace fade meme before anyone can stop her

Anyways, so she’s been going to the world of dreams ever since she was young, and even back then, she wanted to help people stop having nightmares. So that she’d seem a better “guardian of dreams” and look more imposing and cool, she created a persona for herself that she calls the Violet Knight, depicted in the sketch. To be honest, that sketch was just a rough draft, I have no idea how to draw a Cookie in full body armor. I just drew that to show it is full body armor. Anyways so that’s what the Violet Knight looks sort of like, and what they’ve always looked like, since this is the dream world and she can look however she wants. In current day she uses the persona when she doesn’t want her identity to be known

Considering we now know Dark Cacao to have a lot of nightmares, perhaps at some point she and her grandfather have met, though only under the disguise of the Violet Knight

But yeah I think that’s about it for her. I realize I don’t really have anything concerning her and her parents. I think I mostly just took ideas from the two and made them into a Cookie. But oh well. Hope you like her regardless!