#not that you have to choose XD

[churchofpossum]

Yesterday was Krampus day in Austria so I might as well share these here. These were for supporters and will be sent out as postcards (together with an Elf Jaskier I've not shared yet).

I know there are people that are annoyed by putting popular characters in santa outfits but it took me three years to get to it so leave me alone, i am allowed to indulge XD

[softhe4rted]

on loneliness jenny slate / japanese breakfast, posing for cars / corinne von lebusa, big glow / dadushin / alejandra pizarnik, tr. me / fka twings, home with you / avocado_ibuprofen / fiona apple, left alone / anne carson, “the anthropology of water”, plainwater / kiki smith, free fall / alejandra pizarnik, diaries

[cuubism]

some canon-verse trans Hob for the lovely @five-and-dimes who recently got top surgery! 🥳🥰 congratulations, I'm truly so happy for you, my friend. please accept this humble offering

--

“So, it actually started on a dare,” Hob says, on the day he tells Dream the story of him. Or of this part of him, anyway.

Normally, Hob gets a bit guarded the first time he tells someone he’s trans. It’s hard to predict with absolute certainty how people will react, especially ones he’s just become romantically involved with. He’s had it go poorly, to say the least, in the past.

He doesn’t feel that way with Dream. It’s not because there’s so much trust between them—they’re still new, after all. No, it’s something about Dream himself. For all his prickly and standoffish nature, being close to him feels like sinking into a warm lake, into a dark sleep where secrets and hidden wishes float up like glowing reeds to the surface. Deep, personal feelings feel safe with Dream; he cradles them in his hands and soothes them. Or that’s how it feels, when Hob is touching him.

Personification of dreams, indeed.

“A dare?” Dream echoes.

“Sort of," Hob says. "Got frustrated with people saying women should or shouldn’t do this or that or the other thing, so I decided if they felt so strongly about it I’d just be a man. Moved somewhere no one knew me, dressed differently, got stronger, practiced the sword—and that was that. No one seemed to care much, once you were at war. So long as you could swing a sword and not get yourself killed.”

“A choice, then,” Dream says. He’s listening very intently, hands folded on his knees, untouched tea on the coffee table before him.

“At first. Was only after I’d been living that way for a few decades—before and after we met—that I realized while there might be a handful of women out there living as men for the freedom of it, that they didn’t all like it. Given the choice they’d rather just be women in a more equal world. You know?”

Dream hums in understanding.

“But I didn’t want to go back,” Hob continues. “I felt like... who I'd become was the truth of me all along.”

“Identity, while not wholly immutable, is resilient against adversity and circumstance,” says Dream. “You found what your heart wanted you to be, if in a circuitous manner.”

“You seem very unbothered by it,” Hob observes, sipping his tea.

Dream frowns. “Why would I be bothered by it?”

“Dunno.” Apparently he can’t fully shake that this’ll put a wedge in us feeling. “People sometimes are. Feel deceived, or something like that. So they say.”

“If they are deceived, it is by their own assumptions,” Dream says, with disdain. “You should be as you dream yourself, Hob. No more nor less. Put aside these petty physical trappings.”

“I do actually have to live in these ‘physical trappings’ even if you don’t, you silly thing.” He can’t help laughing. “Besides, I rather like being some kind of living creature in the world, rather than what? A ghost? Best I can do is make this body as close to how it should be as possible.”

Hob’s come to like his body, for the most part, in the form that he’s made it. He didn’t always. But he needs a body of some kind to be alive, and he likes being alive. So what he couldn’t change, he made peace with.

Besides, they have hormone treatments nowadays. Brilliant stuff. Makes it so much better.

“Anyway, now you know. I wanted you to. Since we’re together.” It’s still a marvel. Together.

“Thank you,” says Dream, with evident sincerity. “It is a privilege to be gifted your secrets.”

“Not really a secret, but I get what you mean.” He takes Dream’s hand, just to touch him, and admits, “Telling it to you is like… I don’t know. Feels like when I was younger and first admitted out loud, ‘I’m a man. I want to stay like this.’”

It hasn’t been a proper secret in a very long time. But giving it to Dream is like the freedom of releasing a held breath, even so.

“I am the harbor and cradle of dreams,” Dream says in reply. He traces his fingers over Hob’s. Does Dream’s strange form just spring from the ether? Hob wonders. Or does he have to choose it? The way Hob chose his? “Dreams of being and becoming… these are most precious for they grow from tough soil. I can only protect them, I cannot create them. You must do that. And I expect that were I to find you in the Dreaming, there would be a fantastic garden there, indeed.”

Dream himself is the most fantastical thing. “Well, darling, just know your work is appreciated.”

Dream’s lips tip up in a tiny smile. When he meets Hob’s gaze again, his eyes have gone dark and starry. He folds Hob into a hug, and—

oh, it’s like being hugged by the universe itself.

Hob feels the light breeze of a warm dark night, when he’d lain by the dying fire in a war camp in the French countryside, and looked up at a million stars and first whispered to himself what if this is really who I am? Dream is that breeze and those stars. The dying embers that had lit him as he’d run his hands over his body and felt it differently than he ever had before, and been terrified because what would it mean?—but also thrilled and alive. Dream is the night wrapping around him in that moment, the night that was listening to his dreams no matter how quietly he admitted them, Dream is that and more and the voice in his heart telling him it would be okay.

A younger, more uncertain Hob would have needed this. Hob now is older, and he already knows who he is and what he wants, but he falls into Dream’s embrace all the same. A tear slips from his eye, and Dream kisses his cheek, wiping the tear away with his tongue before leaning their heads together.

“I could craft you any body you wanted in the Dreaming,” he says lowly. “However I think the one you have made with your own hands is more remarkable.”

Oh, God, he’s going to tear up again. “Dream, you are the most beautiful, wonderful thing.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the words, and lets Hob hold him close, lets him cradle his head to his chest, a dream kept close to his heart. One that he knew as soon as he saw it walk into the White Horse. Sooner even than he truly knew himself.

Then Dream looks up at him with a hopeful expression. “With these truths revealed, are we able to be intimate?”

Hob laughs so hard he has to tip his head back against the couch. “Wow. One track mind with you, isn’t it? I spill my heart and that’s what I get?”

Dream grumbles, tucking his face in against Hob’s neck to press his lips to Hob’s throat. “I find myself impatient of late.”

“Knew all along you were only with me for my body.” He’s grinning, though. Can’t stop.

“Well. Considering it is such a lovely one.” He plucks at Hob’s shirt buttons. Lecherous little nightmare.

It feels fucking good, though, to be desired.

“C’mere, then,” he says, and drags Dream into his lap.

Dream settles there with a purr, starts playing with Hob’s hair, but says, “I would not truly derail this moment, nor distract from your feelings if you do not wish it.”

“Oh, I wish it. You’ve no idea how much I want you right now. You’re like a prize.” He cradles Dream’s beloved face between his hands. “Stick around for long enough and you’ll get the most incredible Dream at the end of it.”

“Or at the beginning,” Dream says, and Hob’s heart swells so much to hear him voice that that he has to kiss him.

When he does, Dream makes a low, pleased sound, settling deeper in his lap. Yes, this moment, this life, is certainly the prize for all of those years hanging onto those dreams:

the dream of his lover

and the one of himself.

[smilesatdawnmain]

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE LMK Addition (Part Three)

Wukong entices Macaque with a pair of tickets from his favorite play!! Macaque debates heavily on his decision, officially enticed.

Congratulations! You snagged Wukong a date!

The two agreed to meet up the following day a little before the play.

What should Wukong bring?

Next

Previous

….WIN him over. Spelling hates me

(It's funny, the Twitter voting won over with Wukong doing a wink and pick up line XD But the tumblr votes won overall in the number of votes in comparison)

[magnusbae]

If you're interested, here's a prompt from the ones who just shared:

"Then why did you do it?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

No rush hehe I hope you get rest and have fun writing this!

Now, see, I could have taken this as an open prompt and went with something else, but I know you like dreamling and so I was good.

Thanks for the prompt dear! 💖 Also special thanks goes to @cuubism for actually going through it 🌻🌻🌻 any mistakes are me ignoring her wisdom or straight up forgetting to edit it. one of the two.

Dreamling - some flavor of hurt/comfort(?) 'you dare?' kind of situation going on there, 1,394w

▾▾▾

“I cannot fathom why—” 

Dream halts mid-sentence, his outrage rendering him speechless for a precious moment in which Hob tries, fruitlessly, to come up with a way to placate him, to explain in a way that will somehow pass as acceptable to Dream. The betrayal is tangible in the air, so charged that Hob’s hair actually stands on end as if from static. It feels like standing at your front door, still safe but seeing the hurricane on the horizon, knowing that this false safety can and will change in moments. Hob cannot think of a single thing. 

“You.” Dream grits his teeth so tightly that they scrape loudly, the sound of it making Hob’s own teeth ache uncomfortably. “Know.” Dream says each word as if it takes a great burden to even use human speech and not simply burn a hole in Hob’s mind. Given Dream’s past record, which Hob had recently learnt of, perhaps it does. “You know I do not ask.”

“I know.” Hob winces.

There’s no denying that he knew. Knew full well that asking Dream’s sibling for help was a guaranteed way to not only outrage him, but also land Hob a very creative punishment and the end of their long friendship.

He knew that, and did it anyway. 

Would again, if he had to.

He will not apologize for that.

Dream seems to come to the same conclusion, cheeks reddening in a surprising display of humanity, of lack of control over his appearance. The darkness that creeps into his eyes is distinctly not human. Hob shudders but fixes his eyes on Dream’s, refusing to avert his eyes like a reprimanded youth. He did what he did, and he’s not sorry.

''Then.” To Hob’s surprise, Dream seems to level himself, to school the darkness out of his eyes and ask with a calm that is somehow more unnerving than his rage. “Why did you do it?" There is a finality to this question, like a judge asking for one last confession to tip the scale one way or another. There will be judgment at the end of it, Hob knows. 

“Because…” he sucks in a breath, there’s a ball of nerves in his stomach and frustration, surprising him with its intensity, it feels almost like anger.

Why is he here, searching for excuses for something he believes in wholeheartedly? He doesn’t want to learn firsthand of Dream’s notorious pettiness but he’s not here to play these sort of games. 

The outraged huff is stuck in his throat— he didn’t even realize he had raised his voice this much, not until the ring of it strains his ears. He is practically shouting. And he doesn’t care. 

 ''BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.''

There’s anger in it, frustration, a measure of desperation.

“I bloody love you more than I fear you, that’s why.” His own cheeks burn, itch, tingle with the indignation of it all. “Because I’m a besotted fool who would make a pact with the devil if I had to, if it meant helping you.” He gestures curtly at Dream, then spreads his arm in an exaggerated motion of question. “Why else? Seriously, why else?!” He stops at that, breathing harshly. This is not how he had imagined, not even close. Fuck it. And fuck Lucifer, too. And Dream’s all too pleased sibling, on top.

Through his outburst Hob had stopped paying attention to Dream’s face, only his eyes, latching onto them as if they were his anchor in this universe, the only constant thing, in life, in this.

When he finally looks, really looks, he realizes with a start that Dream’s cheeks are no longer red with anger, that his eyebrows are not as tightly knitted, that his pale lips form a small and lax ‘o’. 

His friend looks taken aback, pacified and…surprised.

Like he couldn’t fathom this being the reason for Hob’s supposed betrayal of trust. Like this was the last rationale he had expected to hear, like he, an Endless being of incomprehensible wisdom, is unable to conceive this simple truth. Like he’s at a loss now.

Like he’s a bloody idiot. Hob shakes his head in amazement, his own anger evaporating as quickly as it came. Yet again he wonders how it is possible to be all knowing and yet so blind, so oblivious to such a simple truth, one Hob didn’t even try too hard to hide, really.

“I know you didn’t want me to,” he softens his voice, speaking more quietly “but I really didn’t have a choice. If I could do this on my own, you know I would have, I’d do worse for you.” He smiles at Dream, he doesn’t even try to sound self-deprecating, it’s the honest truth. He would.

His hand drops by his side and he awaits then, for his judgment.

“You love, me?”

Hob doesn't know how to respond to such a simple question other than–

“I do.”

There’s nothing else to add to that, he said it all, he did it all, even Dream must understand this is no passing fancy. One does not risk their immortal soul for something insignificant. Especially not Hob. One does it when it means everything. And in this case, it did. Dream did. 

Dream seems to again, come to the same conclusion. 

He wilts, shoulders sagging. He looks both much older and much younger at the same time, like this knowledge has stricken him, hurt him.

“You shouldn’t” is all he says. 

“But I do.” Hob answers in return. 

“I see that.” Dream’s voice is a whisper carried by the breeze, gentle, endless, aching. He looks torn in that moment, the judge whose scales no longer measure in any understandable manner. He casts his gaze down. 

“Just let me,” Hob says. He did not come here demanding boons, nor love, only to help Dream. “Forgive my impudent human inclinations to save what I love, and let us continue as we were. Friends. “

“Friends…” Dream repeats after him, as if in disbelief.

Dream opens his mouth to say more—to accept or refuse, Hob doesn’t know—but in that exact moment Matthew half-crashes, half-lands on Dream’s shoulder, a flutter of black feathers and barely muffled curses.

“Boss! Oh for fuck’s sake— I mean cracker’s sake— I mean what the hell— I mean you’re fine—you’re actually okay, I was sure that this time you’re like legit—” he notices Hob then, and cawing loudly he curses again “You actually did it you son of a bitch— you really did!” His wings open excitedly, brushing against Dream’s face, covering it up.

“Matthew.” 

“Uh-” Matthew folds his wings immediately. 

Hob looks at Dream then, the moment is decidedly broken but he has to know if he’d see him again, he can’t just go on not knowing, it’ll drive him insane. “Dream—” he starts, but Dream speaks over him.

“We will discuss this—” Dream’s lips tighten, eyes flicking to Matthew and then back at Hob. “At a later time.” He concludes rather curtly, seemingly deciding that addressing exactly what they will be discussing is not something he wants his Raven to be privy to.

“Right…” Hob murmurs, not speaking further of the topic either. It’s one thing to break Dream’s boundaries over life and death, another entirely over his own impatience and need to know. Dream wanting to see him again at all is already a damn good sign, and Hob will take it, gladly.

“I’ll see you later then, Dream” He uses the name even while not being sure he is still permitted to, that he did not lose the privilege. Dream tilts his head but doesn’t object, instead he nods once and disappears in a swirl of golden sand.

“Show off…” Hob murmurs into the empty air, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a good feeling in his gut, he should probably be worried but he has a feeling that things will work out, that it all will be just fine. He can’t explain it, but he has learnt to trust his gut over the years. After all, it once led him to believe that he would never die.

It was right then, and it’ll be right now too. He and Dream will figure it out and will be better for it. Just like the other time, just like always. 

[raycatz]

I'm not including a situation where someone might be injured because in that case I'm thinking the bed goes to them by default or they are nominated for it. anyone who wants to be chatty goes to join the living room floor gang.

What are your thoughts and headcanons? Do you have thoughts on how the boys tend to approach assigning beds in inns? Who do the chain choose to sleep near when camping and why? What are their dynamics like when settling down for the night and getting ready for the day?

In "Mirror Vs Open Closet Door: Fight!" by Gintrinsic (here) Four refers to the chain's decision on how to split up between inn rooms as the "Link-per-room ratio" which I find very funny. He, Sky, and Time also talk about their thought process behind why they do or don't want to sleep in a room with some of the others which I find fun and interesting.

So! If you have thoughts and want to share them! *gestures to the post!*

[small-spark-of-light]

day 24 was draw something lineless!! this was easy ngl

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

You ever think about Hawke and their relationship with their name

[skyloftian-nutcase]

To become an EMT was fairly intense training. The class only lasted a semester, but it was eight hours of class per week with nearly two thousand page textbooks, hours upon hours of clinicals, and the overarching dread that people would be relying on you for life and death situations when you passed.

To become a paramedic was even harder. A two year program heavy in pharmacology and cardiac rhythm interpretation, with so many new skills piled on that it was overwhelming most of the time.

To Hyrule it was all an adventure and an honor, though, one he readily accepted.

He hadn't been expecting to use such esteemed training to be combing a cow pasture in the middle of the night, though.

"This is your fault, by the way," Aurora grumbled. "I'm never holding over for a shift with you again."

"How is this my fault?" Hyrule questioned before yelping and jumping out of the way of what could have been a disastrous footstep into a pile of unsavoriness.

"Yesterday was a calm shift," Aurora pointed out as she also jumped around some cow chips. "Eleven calls in twenty-four hours. Nobody was dying and nobody was obnoxious. Today, we ran twenty-one calls, of which two were codes, one was a drunk person cussing everyone out except for the one person he thought was an angel, a person who was convinced their banana was possessed, and this."

"Somebody drove off the road and crashed through a wooden fence into the pasture and it's my fault?" Hyrule parsed out, jumping slightly when he walked unwittingly into a wet nose. The cow stared at him unblinkingly, munching aimlessly on whatever she'd grazed. "Excuse me," he huffed, ducking around her.

"The patient has to be long gone," Aurora sighed. "I'm willing to bet they were drunk and ran as soon as this happened. They wouldn't want a run-in with PD."

"Nobody wants a run-in with Impa," Hyrule snickered.

Despite tearing through a wooden fence, the car actually hadn't sustained too much. It was likely as Aurora suspected, though - a drunk driver who was uninjured enough to recognize Impa would chew them out and arrest them, and therefore opted for fleeing the scene.

"At least the cows weren't hurt," Aurora muttered, watching one stare at her. "We're definitely attracting a crowd, though."

As his partner chuckled, Hyrule noticed that they had, in fact, attracted quite the crowd. It seemed like the entire herd had gathered at this point, all staring pointedly at the paramedics while the police continued to sweep the area.

"Uh... hi," Hyrule waved awkwardly, and Aurora burst out laughing.

Turning, Hyrule watched his step carefully, avoiding both holes and manure, before he rammed unceremoniously into something, gasping and falling backwards into his partner.

"Rulie!" Aurora yelped as she caught him. "Are you okay?"

Hyrule grumbled, regaining his balance, his heart racing from embarrassment, and then he stared at what he'd crashed into.

The fence. He'd just... walked head first into the broken fence.

Hyrule snorted. Then he fell into hysterics, his gut aching from laughing so hard. Aurora stared at him a moment and then joined in.

"Keep this up and you'll be the patient," Aurora snorted, gasping for air. She turned to Impa. "Impa, I'm taking my partner home before he kills himself!"

Their serious friend shot them a look, taking in the sight of Hyrule, who was now sporting a small cut on his forehead from the splintered wood, though it clearly wasn't bothering him as he was wheezing and bent over.

"I don't even want to know," she sighed heavily. "The driver's long since fled the scene. You two can go in service."

Hyrule let Aurora guide him as both stumbled on to the road, still laughing loudly.

Two years of training for life-and-death emergencies only for Hyrule to create his own emergencies while aimlessly wandering a cow pasture. He supposed his instructors had been right when they'd mentioned one couldn't make up half the stuff they dealt with at work.

[the-crimson]

(All talk about the characters not the ccs)

I’m finally watching bbh’s June 19th stream (day after Father’s Day) and he’s talking about removing everyone’s access to his base. I’ve seen people talking about how this could cause problems and lose him Forever and Bagerah’s trust but I think people - including Forever and Bagerah - are forgetting a crucial fact

Bbh is a single parent and has been from the start.

He has to be incredibly paranoid to keep Dapper safe. His paranoia is the only reason Dapper -and many of the other eggs - are still alive.

He can’t rely on other people to keep Dapper safe. He can’t tell Dapper to go live with another parent if his house is compromised. That’s why he has five different houses and keeps building more when too many people gain access.

I don’t think Forever or Bagerah have a right to complain about this considering they have 3/4 other parents/houses to keep their egg safe. They have a family structure that allows them a sense of safety that bbh has NEVER had.

Like yea, I understand why they would feel betrayed but from an objective pov, they have zero ground to stand on to protest because they have NO idea what bbh has gone through raising dapper alone, how could they? They have always had 3/4 other parents at their beck and call.

Trust doesn’t mean letting someone run rampantly through your house/safe space just because they feel entitled to it. Trust means having faith that if bbh is closing off his/Dapper’s house to you, he has a legitimate reason that doesn’t have anything to do with you personally.

Bbh has done so much for team friendship and taken down so many of his walls and boundaries for them that the fact THEY don’t have faith in him makes me sad. I trust team friendship and the q-ommunication smp to work everything out but I just hope Bagerah and Forever come to respect bbh’s boundaries a bit more :D

[atanx]

Since I've been replaying Subnautica recently, I've been thinking more about Below Zero.

From what I've seen, people tend to give Below Zero more shit than I think it deserves. Now, out of the two games I would very much say that Subnautica is my favourite, but I think comparing the two games is a bad idea in general because of how fundamentally different they are.

The premise of Subnautica is that you're a janitor whose spaceship crashed on an alien planet, leaving you as the only survivor when you wake up 8 hours after the crash. You aren't prepared for this. You're all alone. And you have been infected by a bakteria with a killcount in the billions. You know nothing at all about this world. This sets up real terror, helplessness and the knowledge that even if someone were coming to save you, they would experience the same fate as the rest of your ship's crew. You're not stranded on 4546B BY CHOICE.

Below Zero however, is drastically different. You have gone to great lengths to willingly smuggle yourself onto the planet to find out just what happened to your sister to cause her death. You come very much prepared and you're more than willing to face all the risks. You can also theoretically leave at any point. All you'd have to do is show yourself to Alterra and they would probably escort you to a prison themselves. You do not get infected. You are also not alone.

This willingness and initiative in Below Zero is a huge detractor from the terror of it all. And it is why I think a comparison is unfair.

(Also, you have a Truck. In Below Zero. And Truck-kun is there, ready to deal massive damage for you! Honestly I think it's way too OP. Fucking Shadow Leviathans become nothing more than a NUISANCE. But well, it fits with the theme of the game.)

All in all, Below Zero had nice environments, nice creatures, nice gameplay, a better base building system and some pretty intruiging storylines!

In my opinion, the endgame is pretty lacklustre. Any terror I felt regarding leviathans or the like abated very quickly, even though I have barely 30h in Below Zero. Meanwhile, going to the Aurora in Subnautica still scares the shit out of me 80h in.

Although I have to mention here that some of the familiarity you build up in Subnautica carries over. You can never get the same experience as playing Subnautica for the first time ever again. Because now you've already experienced it once.

Below Zero isn't really a worse game for not being able to do this, though. It's a good game, it's just... not as memorable. Because Subnautica is truly special. From its stellar soundtrack to its satisfying gameplay and moving story and setting, Subnautica is a fucking masterpiece. Sure, it has its flaws, but they're more charming than detracting. To me.

And it's unfair to expect anything else to deliver the same experience. Because nothing can.

And when comparing Below Zero to Subnautica, so many cool things lose their shine in its shadow. I still vividly remember jamming out in the seatruck to Diving In Too Deep from Nerdout. The story of that one old wreck that managed to survive by distracting the big gun was some really good writing. The frozen leviathan terrified me so hard even though I knew it wasn't going to come alive. Robin and Al-An's conversations are genuinely interesting an entertaining. The kelp area is really cool and the oxygen flowers are such a good gameplay change! Sam's storyline hit me right in the feels! MARGUERIT. The ice worm hit me straight off of my snowfox and down a cliff so I had to run the rest of the way. The research crew are also lovely characters!

There are a lot of things to love about Below Zero and we shouldn't let them pale by judging the game with standards Subnautica lifted to the fucking moon <3

[prototypelq]

Reasons to look up/play (if you can) Alan Wake 2:

- this in-universe ad

- multiple music numbers

[anawrites3]

For @poiverine 🥰 I know I'm a little late but I'm still thinking about shameless Slade you drew for this au and well... this just happened 🤗💕

Sladick royal au;

part 6, inspired by polv's amazing art;

You are not to display your feelings for each other with anyone around you. You are to stay close to your spouse throughout any social event but not to touch their bare hand, in matters different than greeting each other or dancing. Physical contact is intimate and other people must not have any insight on it. Any form of displaying your affections publicly is scandalous and humiliating for both sides.

Those were the rules. Dick knew all of them by heart, taught by Gotham's best tutors since the moment he came to live with Bruce – he spent years and years learning everything he could, to be a proper prince and not shame Bruce in any way by doing something stupid out of unawareness. And those, those particular rules were the most important, as not following them would shame his name so greatly that if it ever happened, Dick wouldn't be able to look anyone in the eye for the rest of his life. Not to even mention the disgrace it would bring Bruce.

Children are allowed any physical touch they need. Holding their hand, hugging, kissing their cheeks and forehead is allowed even with other people around you. You are allowed to display your feelings towards the members of your family in public, such as holding their bare hand and even hugging them briefly. Any possible suitor and later a spouse does not have those privileges towards you. Any possible intimate contact between you and your spouse is to happen when you are alone, in the privacy of your chambers.

No matter what Dick knew earlier, no matter what his parents taught him, those were the rules Dick must follow now, regardless of anything else. It was confusing and weird at first, to change his whole worldview so abruptly like that but it didn't take Dick long to learn and understand. Besides, learning that you can't display your affections openly was barely anything huge, compared with what Dick had to go through when his parents were killed.

Bruce helped him understand the rules. Helped him with everything and anything, really. With Bruce’s aid, Dick was able to see how displaying your affections, being intimate with your beloved was something to treasure, a moment meant to be adored and cherished by the two of you. It was a beautiful show of feelings and no one else should be a witness to it.

Dick himself never saw anyone break those rules but he heard enough of such cases. People, especially nobles, loved to talk – Dick knew that better than anyone because he was the one people talked about a lot. One of their favorite activities was gossiping about people who broke the rules and thanks to that he knew perfectly well how they treated those who were stupid or careless enough to do it. It was utterly unacceptable for Gotham's society, scandalous. It brought dishonor, made people look and openly point their fingers at you to laugh.

It was a sin in its own category.

Dick was always extremely careful to follow all the rules, like a proper prince he was. He made sure to wear gloves whenever his suitors greeted him with a kiss on the palm, was certain to never stand too close to them during any events. The further thing he ever did was let Roy press a kiss to his cheek when the prince came to tell him that he was leaving for his journey, and then another one to the palm of his bare hand but even then they were alone in the library. Dick was intent to never break those rules, to follow them for the rest of his life.

And then Slade Wilson came, barged really, into his life.

Slade, who grabbed his bare hand and brought it to his lips whenever he wanted, like it was something as natural as breathing to him. Slade, who wrapped his arm around Dick's waist and pressed him against his side as if Dick was... as if Dick was some whore he could parade around with. Slade, who... w-who leaned down and... and kissed him, right on the lips, with everyone around to see it happen.

Every time Slade did it, Dick could feel shame and humiliation burning in his chest painfully like a real fire would. Every time, Dick forced himself to stay still and just breathe, to let Slade do what he wished. He was sure the man just toyed with him, waiting for the moment he'll finally snap. Oh, how he wanted to loathe this man. How he wanted to hate Slade, for he took Dick away from his home, from his family, away from everything he knew. How he wanted to hate Slade for doing whatever he wanted with him, humiliating Dick day and day again. But he couldn't. He couldn't allow himself to do that.

Because Dick wouldn't be able to live like that, standing by the side of someone he loathed for the rest of his life. It would destroy him, like locking in a cage would do to a bird, and Dick wasn't going to give up like this. Even if Slade decided to humiliate them both by acting that way and breaking the rules, even if he treated Dick like nothing more than a plaything he wanted to show everyone around. No matter what Slade decided to throw at him, Dick intended to take every blow with dignity, as much as it was possible.

Dick chose this himself. He agreed to Slade's demands, agreed to marry him and live by his side in Defiance, aware of what it can bring. Aware of what Slade might choose to do with him. All to stop the war that was terrorizing them all for far too long. And Dick didn't regret doing it, not really. He couldn't regret saving all those lives, innocent lives that could've been lost in a pointless fight if he refused. Even if he had to sacrifice himself for it. Even if he has to endure all those painful humiliations. It was a small price to save thousands of their soldiers.

If his betrothed had been someone else, Dick would've been able to voice his objection right away. He would make it clear that he's not going to stand for being treated like that, that he won't allow Slade to touch him with all those people around, or even at all. But with becoming Slade's husband he will lose all his rights, all his privileges. He won't be Gotham's crown prince anymore, no, he'll become King Wilson's royal consort instead. Slade will have all the power over him, everything Dick will own will belong truly to Slade, everything he'll be allowed to do or have only because Slade'll agree to it. And Dick... Dick was simply too afraid to anger Slade by denying him, too afraid to see what punishment would await him for it. Would Slade forbid him writing to his family, forbid him visiting them? Would he lock Dick up, put him into a golden cage, and come see him only when he wished to be in his consort's company? Would he simply kill him and start the war again?

Dick didn't want to find out.

Because Slade Wilson was a cruel man. Dick didn't know him very well, in fact he only ever met him a few times before, during galas or other celebrations, but he didn't have to to know that fact. It was common knowledge, in fact. Everyone knew the tale about how Slade became Defiance's king, how he fought his way to the throne, brutally killing every person that got in his way. It wasn't how it happened in Gotham, with Bruce getting the crown from his father, who got it from his own father. No, Slade wasn't even of royal blood. Before he started ruling the country he was a mercenary – and the best one their world heard about at that. It's because of that, because of his merits, he received the lordship in the first place and became a figure on Defiance's court.

Because Slade didn't shy away from war and battle, always ready to fight whenever someone was willing to pay him handsomely for his effort. And now, when he left the mantle to take on the crown instead, he was still willing to battle everyone, to protect his country and make it thrive.

Bruce respected Slade because he would have to be a fool not to. Slade wasn't just a brute force, he was also a genius strategist whose plan always succeeded. He was a man feared by all, even those most powerful. A monster, able to kill with just a twitch of his hand.

Dick knew that all and he was well aware what he was getting into when he agreed to the letter where Slade demanded him in turn to end the war. He was aware why Bruce was so against the sheer idea of it. But Dick knew what his answer will be the moment he read the letter for the very first time. No matter how much he hated doing it, he wasn't going to let his people suffer from the war when he had a certain way to stop all the fighting.

Even if he had to suffer instead.

Sitting by the window in the chambers Slade had prepared for him for the time of his visit in Defiance, Dick remembered suddenly how whenever they were alone, Bruce never called Slade a king. 'Wilson', sometimes he even referred to him as 'Lord Wilson' but never as a king. In Bruce's eyes Wilson wasn't a proper ruler – he was a brute, a barbarian that cared only about himself and did whatever he wanted to do.

Dick huffed a humorless laugh at the thought. Perhaps that's why Slade was so shameless and didn't even care about breaking the rules.

/ / / / /

Then, Dick started to learn Defiance's culture properly.

He was going to live in Slade's country and so he preferred to know the rules and general manners that applied there. Slowly but surely he became more acquainted with Defiance's customs, with the way its people lived and thought – he gained the knowledge from every source possible, whether it was from the books in the royal library or simply from talking with people in the court.

One of the first things he learned was that... no one here cared if you kissed your spouse in a room full of people. Well, that one he actually learned before getting to any books; meeting Apollo and Midnighter was interesting and maybe even a bit... traumatizing at first for him. It was all so much different from what Dick knew that the idea alone almost made him dizzy. To think that displaying his affections in public didn't sow disgust all around, that people actually encouraged it and cheered when you did... it was a lot to take in, no matter how long Dick thought about it.

Almost all his life, all those years he spent in Gotham by Bruce's side, he was teached that showing affection openly was like a crime. That's what he believed was right and he followed those rules naturally, even after arriving in Slade's country. He just... well, he just assumed that the rules in Defiance were the same as in any other country he visited before, because they all applied in Star, in Jump, even in Atlantis as well. That made Dick even more eager to learn about Defiance's customs, because it was so much different from everything Dick knew.

But it also made Dick look at Slade differently. It made him realize that the man wasn't trying to humiliate him with his affections, he did it because his people took pride in showing off their beloved ones. And while Dick was certain that Slade did take some sick kind of pleasure from all his blushing, stuttering and hitched breaths, it wasn't exactly entirely ill-natured. It was probably what Slade was raised with and for him it was absolutely natural so he kissed Dick without a second thought, even if it made Dick want to crawl into the ground at times.

People of Defiance simply loved to display their affections in public, loved to proudly show everyone around just how happy their beloved ones made them. At least that's what the books said. It was... it was actually kind of nice, in theory.

...that still didn't make actually doing it, letting Slade do it, any easier. Slade's touch, his easy kisses that happened with other people around still made him want to jerk away from his grip as humiliation burned into him; still made his heart thump painfully against his ribcage while he blushed so hard that even his neck and shoulders turned red. It didn't matter if people around them clapped and smiled, it'll take Dick a really long time to actually get used to it.

But he had time to do it, didn't he? After all, he'll spend the rest of his life by Slade's side. And it was... it was better to know all that and just be embarrassed over the affections, than to feel the shame and horror of breaking the rules that in reality weren't even there. It was much better that way and Dick will get used to it one day.

[Masterlist of the au]

He was just glad Bruce didn't have to see any of it.

//

Thank you for reading!! 💕 Hope you liked it 👉👈

[mushroom-for-art]

Hi @bluejay-flies, I hope this isn't weird but I saw about your Aurorus mewtwo fusion fav and struggles and thought well hey I've been drawing a lot of mewtwo designs including fusions, I could draw you a little something and uh then I went hog wild with color options for you, the design is completely yours and you can pick whichever color version you want! (hell mix the colors and such I don't mind!)

Of course if these aren't really the vibe and you're not a fan of the design that's completely okay there's no obligation to accept and I won't take offence I had fun and got to do a fun drawing exercise either way :)

[amethystina]

@sofapup17 asked for the link to my Who Holds the Devil playlist and I figured more of you might be interested, so here it is.

As the description says, it's not exactly a soundtrack but rather a collection of songs with suitable vibes and lyrics. And by "suitable vibes" I mean pretty dramatic, often heartbreaking, occasionally sweet, kinda sexy, vaguely desperate, and, of course, just a tiny bit dangerous. And yes, some of the songs are connected to specific events that already have or will happen in the fic ;)

More songs might be added as I find them and they're in no particular order for the time being.

And, before anyone asks: No, there is not a single song by GOT7 on there at the time of writing, mainly because I haven't actually listened to them x'D (well, yet. I'll get to it eventually >_> )

SO YEAH. Enjoy?

[despairforme]

Easter, huh? He should probably go to church, but NAH, he wants to do something else...