#open up! mantis got you a treat

[fatcryptid]

Hairy trans tummy. Need I say more

rbs okay and encouraged!

tip me if you like ;)

[mantisbreath]

Come to make a confession?

Alternate Title: Mantis Is Fully Clothed For Once

[marvelfanfics1]

hii if you’re still doing requests for the guardians could you do something with rocket and peter getting jealous when the other is getting attention from reader. they’ve argued in the past about who’s captain so i definitely think they’d argue over who the reader’s favourite is (ofc they love them both equally) and get jealous. also maybe reader gets overwhelmed with the bickering so drax, groot or gamora have to step in get them to stop and to calm reader down. <3

The Favorite

Pairing: cg!guardians x little!reader

Warnings: Age Regression, jealousy, reader gets overwhelmed, protective!gamora, fluff

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒

"Come to me baby!" Quill opened his arms wide for you.

"No, come to me little one" Rocket waved and you thought for a second.

Peter was smiling when it seemed you were walking towards him but it dropped when you rushed over to Rocket with a giggle.

"See, I told you! I'm her favorite." Rocket smirked, ruffling your hair a little and Peter was about to argue when he saw you nibbling on some candy.

"You cheated! We said no bribing!" he pointed out while you just made your way over to Drax.

"Not my fault you believed I was going to listen," Rocket said bluntly.

Drax shook his head at the two and advert his gaze down to you, seeing you enjoy your treat.

"What did he gave you?" he asked with a little smile and you smiled back.

"A lollipop!" you said and raised your arms.

"Up?" you asked and he nod, sitting down before helping you sit on his lap, your back to his chest and listening to Peter and Rocket's bickering.

"I am Groot."

"On which side are you?!" Peter crossed his arms frustrated.

"I am Groot."

"Unbelievable."

"Quill, just accept that I'm her first choice." Rocket threw his head back laughing.

You sighed and got startled by Mantis grabbing your hand gently, her antennas glowing a little, they amazed you every time.

"She's overwhelmed." She frowned and Drax tensed a little.

"What causes it?"

Mantis pointed at Peter and the others who were still arguing. "It's them."

Gamora, who heard everything Mantis said had finally enough, walking over to you and picking you up, marching towards the two idiots.

She puts a hand over your ear and gently places your head on her shoulder before snapping. "Hey! Look at what you morons did. You're acting here like children even though she told us that she loves everyone equally," she turns to Peter. "multiple times."

Peter got a look of your face and he felt guilty. Then Gamora turned to Rocket so he could also see what he did.

"I don't wanna hear any of that again. Are-" she stopped mid-sentence when you pulled your head up.

"Please, no fighting" you pout. You hated it when they were arguing, sometimes it was all fun and games but it would escalate quickly and you can't stand it when people were shouting around you.

"I'm scolding them, love. What they did wasn't good, you understand?" she explained and you nod.

"Is okay now! I better." you wriggled out of Gamora's arms and danced your way to your room, already forgotten what just happened and wanting to play.

Gamora waited until you were out of earshot and smacked Rocket and Peter on the back of their heads.

"Knock it off you both." She said and walked away.

Peter rubbed his head and gave Rocket one last glare and whispered. "At least she will cuddle with me later." he was about to round the corner to your room and flipped Rocket off.

"You little-" Rocket stopped himself taking a breath. "It's not worth it. It's not just worth it."

"I am Groot."

"Sure buddy, you're above Quill."

Peter peaked inside your room and smiled when he saw you cuddling with gamora. She's by the end of a story she was telling you.

"And then your daddy came and saved me," she said and smiled a little, knowing that Peter is watching them. "But he's not very sneaky is he?"

You pulled your head up to look at Peter giggling. "No, he not."

"Yeah, I get it." he sighed and walked over to slip right next to your other side.

You snuggled more to him saying in a more serious tone. "Daddy."

"Yes?"

"I love you all," you told him and placed your head on his shoulder, wrapping yourself a little more around him.

"We love you too, little star."

Little Bonus

Later that day you were sitting beside Rocket, watching him repair something shiny.

"You good? You have been really quiet," he states, not looking away from what he was doing.

"Mhm!" you nodded. "Rocket, you know I wuv you too right?"

Rocket stopped his movements, before smiling your way. "I love ya too kid," he said and leaned over to ruffle your hair.

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

On a more serious note, now that I’m halfway into Farscape season 1, I can’t help but think about Peter Quill/Star-Lord from “Guardians of the Galaxy” being a lesser John Crichton. Because, as I’ve written before, James Gunn was so obviously inspired by Farscape:

1) John and Peter are the good ole American protagonists who were taken to deep space against their will. They connect with people through pop culture references and their good heart.

2) Aeryn Sun and Gamora are the stone cold warriors who used to fight for the bad guys but are now on the side of good. They also have a romance with John/Peter.

3) Ka D’Argo and Drax are the proud warriors who are seeking to redeem themselves. They also are so stiff that references and simple sayings go over their heads.

4) Rygel is sorta kinda like Rocket Raccoon in that they’re the scheming loudmouths who look out for themselves.

5) Pilot and Groot fulfill the role of the lovable support character who helps everyone in the crew.

6) Zotoh Zhaan doesn’t have a perfect GOTG counterpart, but I really do feel that James Gunn split her traits between Nebula (who got the rage and tragic backstory) and Mantis (who got the mind powers).

Anyways, back to the main point. While Peter Quill does come off as a John clone, I think the way John’s arc was handled was superior to the way Peter was written. I think the main reason is that I can see why John would be his crew’s leader (or, at least, the crewmate keeping everything together) while Peter feels like he’s the leader because the plot says he should be.

John starts off as the goofball who can’t do anything right. No one trusts him and they think of him as the idiot who they just keep around. But as season 1 goes on, you can tell that he’s the glue who’s keeping the crew together. He’s the crewmate who got everyone to open up, especially Aeryn (who was trained to be cold and emotionless) and D’Argo (who distrusts everyone because of his traumatic past). He’s like that one friend who you feel like you can talk to about anything, especially since everyone else in the crew is dealing with their own problems.

So when we get to the episode where John is ready to leave, it makes sense that everyone feels hesitant to see him go. Aeryn is starting to fall for him, he was one of the few people who D’Argo would consider a friend, he helped Zhaan through some of her toughest times, and he generally got along with Rygel.

As for Peter Quill, I’m not saying he was badly written. It’s just him being treated as the team’s leader is not as believable. It’s like, imagine if John Crichton was written to be as emotionally closed off and standoffish as everyone else in the crew. While this does make Peter stand out as his own character separate from John, it also makes you wonder why Quill was written as the team’s leader. I’m sure that’s why it was a recurring gag that Quill was always struggling to be seen as the leader, whether it was from Rocket or Thor. The writers knew that wasn’t 100% believable, so they wrote it into the story.

I don’t get that with John. He might be the resident goofball, but he’s also why the crew hasn’t fallen apart.

TL;DR Peter Quill/Star-Lord was obviously modeled after John Crichton. But the MCU character who feels more in line with John as a character is Clint Barton/Hawkeye.

[writing-house-of-m]

Photograph

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 1895

Summary: When you and Wanda go through some old things at her family house, you recognise someone in an old photograph they have

A/N: Just a little idea I thought would be cute. I wrote this pretty quickly and didn't really edit it properly so I hope it makes sense lol Thank you @ageofevermore and @cuinaminute229 for helping my indecisive ass on the header. Any feedback or comments would be much appreciated, so let me know what you think!

There is a soft golden glow shining through the windows as the sun was beginning to say goodbye to the day. 

Taking a break from packing wasn't supposed to be long but the small group of you have been too distracted to notice the time passing. 

You came across the Maximoff family's old photographs that have been in storage. You couldn't help but flip through a photo album when you noticed they were of Oleg and Iryna's wedding day. 

It has been an hour since then, your future in-laws telling you about the relatives who have shown up as you go through different stacks of photos, some they have always been close with, some have now passed and others who are best to avoid. It was a well needed heads up for when you will have to meet them on your wedding day with Wanda. 

There are so many photos and recounts of the memories that go along with them; birthdays, anniversaries, family gatherings and all the moments in between. 

"What happened to Pietro's hair!" You exclaim, noticing a gold fading (badly) into a red colour when you flicked to a new page in the current album you are going through. 

Wanda looks at the picture laughing, explaining the memory, "He wanted to make his hair look like fire." Then she grimaces as her laugh dies out, scrunching her nose, "But he did it himself." 

You both giggle at the messy result and the sour look on Pietro's face as Oleg squashes his cheeks together. You can tell he was forced to sit there while the photo was taken at his expense. 

There was a reason you were initially going through old boxes from the attic of the Maximoff residence. You and Wanda have officially moved in together and having unpacked all the essentials weeks ago you decided it was finally time to get her final round of things. 

They would probably just end up in storage at your new house but at least Wanda would have all her things in one place. You had already done the same with your things last week. 

You hear the front door unlock, open and close signifying Pietro's return. 

After Pietro greets everyone, he notices, "Old photos?" He reaches down and picks up one of the albums, "Have you finished with getting the last of your things?" 

You and Wanda look guilty and shake your heads because you still haven't completed what you were here to do. 

"Get a move on, I've got things I need to go up there," Pietro chastises. 

Before you get to say anything, your future mother-in-law gets there, "It's about time you thought about settling down, son." 

"Ah mama, it will happen when it happens. You can't rush these things," Pietro says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I hope things are going well with Monica. She's such a lovely girl," she says, handing him a box to put behind him. He puts down the album he is holding and takes it from her hands. "Better than that last girl. Mantis, she called herself," Iryna cringes. 

"Mama!" Pietro exclaims to stop this conversation. 

You smile at the scene, you don't have any siblings so you have been treating Pietro as your own brother when you and Wanda got serious and you grew more comfortable with her family. 

Now that Iryna was done it was your turn, "Hey Piet, have you ever thought about dyeing your hair?" You ask. Pietro squints his eyes at you because of the 'random' question, "Maybe, err, yellow and red?" You laugh along with his family. 

"Ah! I thought I got rid of all of those!" He furrows his brows picking up a different album from before, "Where is it?" 

"You will never know, 'hot head'," Wanda responds. Getting a round of laughter. 

He gives Wanda a side eye before looking through the album he is holding. Eventually he takes a seat opposite you and Wanda on the floor. 

Pietro thinks aloud as he flips through the book he is currently going through, "Hey, I remember this place. We weren't there for long though." 

Iryna looks at the photo over Pietro's shoulder as he holds it up for her. She hums, agreeing, "We weren't there for long, two months I think?" She turns to Oleg so he can take a look. He walks closer and nods his head. 

He chuckles under his breath remembering, "My job at the time relocated me to the wrong place, it was such a mess and a huge headache." 

"I think I remember that, we were even enrolled at the local school for a little while," Wanda adds. 

Pietro notices another photo, this time one of Wanda and another student from said school. He passes it to her, "Do you remember this?" 

"Oh yeah!" Wanda takes the image from him, "We got along so well. I missed them for the longest time after we moved," she reminisces. "I don't remember their name. I don't think I ever got it, actually." 

"Such a good friendship you didn't even get a name?" Pietro laughs.

You finally look away from the album in your lap that has had your attention. Furrowing your eyebrows because you recognise the child sitting beside Wanda in the image, "How do you have this?" 

All four Maximoff's look at you at the same time. 

You feel the silence until Wanda explains, "I completely forgot but seeing this photo I remember making one friend in my last few weeks there." She points at the two figures sitting with cheesy grins and arms wrapped around each other. "I can't believe I forgot about my time there." 

You are quite literally gobsmacked listening to the story unfold. 

Iryna chimes in, "Well, school had barely started before we moved again. It's not surprising you don't remember."  

"I know the name of the kid," you reveal. The others look in disbelief and wonder as you sit there smirking. 

"Really? How? Who is it?" They all ask questions at once. 

"It's me," you say with a breathy laugh. 

"What?!" Wanda looks closer at the picture and even her parents come over to get a better look. 

"No way," Pietro gasps as they all hover over the photograph. 

"I told you where I moved from when we first met, remember?" You ask Wanda, getting her attention again. 

"I didn't know the name of the place, look how small we were," she replies, pointing at the image. 

Wanda then joins her family who are all mumbling different similarities between you and the child in the photo. You listen to as much as you can, chuckling to yourself pulling out your phone. 

Last week when you packed your final things from your parents home you too had found old albums there. With everything going on, moving houses and planning a wedding, it completely slipped your mind to show Wanda the old pictures you had taken snapshots of when you were younger. 

Putting the phone next to the photograph everyone compares the two. Wanda is speechless as she looks at you in the same disbelief you felt when you first saw the picture, "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I!" You scoff out. 

"This is so crazy!" 

"I know!" 

"Nothing can stop a great love," Oleg speaks, stopping you and Wanda with your back and forth while he casually walks away. But you and Wanda smile at each other blushing a little because of his comment. 

"We became friends so fast," Wanda leans into you, looking at the photo.  

"Yeah," you speak into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "And then you forgot about me," you finish cheekily. 

Wanda pulls away and smacks your arm. Then takes on an earnest look, "But seriously, I was so sad to lose you, I finally made a friend and a really cool one at that," she trails off. 

"We still found each other again though," you say. 

"Yeah, we did," Wanda says with a soft smile. 

You lean against each other to look at the photo for a little while longer. Looking at the happiness and innocence radiating from your younger selves.

Unbeknownst to you, Pietro snaps a photo on his phone of the two of you smiling down at the captured memory. In his mind this was him getting his wedding gift sorted. 

When you have been through the stacks of pictures, you eventually go back to packing the last of Wanda's things. It is all taken to your new place and you are both exhausted. 

You decide to leave unpacking it all until the next day and when you do, you come across the photo again. 

"Your mom must have put this in here," you smile at Wanda. 

She takes it from you and instead of putting it in storage she places it above the fireplace. You make a mental note to buy a frame for it. 

At the end of the day you sit on the couch after another exhausting day. 

"Fourteen years," you say randomly. Wanda looks at you quizzically so you clarify, "I worked it out, us meeting again after that photo was fourteen years." 

"Wow," Wanda breathes out, sitting against you as you wrap an arm around her. "I guess we were always destined to be together." 

Wanda looks up at you making you look down at her. You share a small kiss and when you separate you continue looking at the picture. 

You talk about how fate has brought you here and how thankful you are for finding each other again even without either of you knowing who the other was. 

"I guess our love transcends all boundaries." 

Wanda smacks your chest lightly, "You dork"

"Yesterday, you said I was really cool! You can't take that back!" 

"That was before the cheesy one-liner." 

"Well, you better get used to it. It will get worse when we get married. Not to mention the jokes I'll come up with when we have kids," you smile. 

Wanda looks up at you again so you meet her gaze, "Hmm, yeah, but I think you mean 'kid' as in singular," you smile at her correction of the future plans you have discussed, "and a dog, of course," she says innocently. 

"No, no, no, I never agreed to getting a dog. I said we could get a cat," you correct. 

"Don't worry I didn't forget about Tom," Wanda says nonchalantly.

"Tom?! We didn't agree to any names yet either!" 

"Are you sure? So where did I get; Wilma, our daughter, and Spike, our dog, from?" Wanda asks, raising a brow. 

"Probably the same place you forgot about the best friend you ever had," you say pushing Wanda, forcing her to lay on the sofa with you carefully placing yourself on top. 

You press your lips to her soft ones and because you are both smiling too much you have to stop. Instead, you settle with kissing the tip of her nose. 

"And here I thought we would be making these big decisions together. We still have a wedding to plan first, you know?" You muse. 

"Yeah, I know. But I can't help myself thinking of our life together," Wanda says, caressing your face. 

Just as fate brought you together, it has a few more surprises for you as you continue your life together. 

[geekywritings]

Don’t leave me

I usually don’t add it, but I kinda felt like writing some angst.

So have Cal x reader, where you worry that Cal might die. But no worries, there is a happy end!

___

Sobs were wrecking through your body, as you desperately tore at Cal’s vest and shirt to get to the damn blaster wound at his side. Too much blood, you realized, panic rising even higher, as you willed your body to function.

As a medic, you had seen all kinds of wounds and injuries. You had brought people back from the brink of death without losing focus. But this was different. This was the man you loved slipping away right beneath your hands.

“Another stim, BD!”, you called, and the little droid obeyed instantly.

The third one already, keeping him alive, while you tried to stave the bleeding. You had already used up whatever bandages you always carried on yourself and had resorted to tearing at your own shirt for more material.

“Y/N…” In your panic you had almost missed what barely qualified as a whisper coming from him. He was conscious! That was an improvement, though moreso for you than for him, as the pain seemed to hit him instantly.

“Shhh, lie still. I got you.”, you spoke, trying to sound calm and soothing, as you tightened the bandage around his torso, feeling the groan he gave deep in your soul.

“I… want to… see you… one…last…”

“NO! Die with whoever comes after me, Cal! You do not leave me! Not now! And not like this!”, you yelled, refusing to let this become your final goodbye.

“After you?”, his voice was so quiet. But the fact that he was able to speak at all gave you hope. “Nobody…ever…could…”

“Then even more reason for you not to die here.”, you continued, now taking care of the other blaster wound in his shoulder, which was bleeding equally badly. “Because I have every intention of growing old with you, you hear me? You and I are gonna spend our final days in some nice house by a lake, looking at holos of our children and grandchildren.”

“Is that… what…you…want?”

“I haven’t wanted anything else since you told me you loved me, Cal…” Why did you suddenly feel like crying? Deep down you knew. If the Mantis didn’t pick you up soon, giving you access to the rest of your medical equipment, you would lose him…

“Sounds…nice…”

“Another stim, BD!” The droid opened his compartment, revealing the very last he carried and you swallowed. You had to time it right or it would all have been for nothing. His heartbeat was so slow… his breathing so faint… and he was undoubtedly in a lot of pain…

But Cal was also fighting. You’ve seen enough patients in his state. Those, who had given up would fade quickly. But your experience also told you that a will to fight wasn’t always enough. Even a Jedi aided by the Force could not overcome too much blood loss…

Suddenly you heard it. An incoming message with Greez’s familiar voice. A huge relief washed over you and you injected the last stim quickly, before getting everything ready to dock your stolen vessel to the Mantis.

Once on the ship, you’d be able to treat him properly. At least until you reached a proper medical unit in one of the secret rebel bases.

“Hang in there just a little longer, Cal. Don’t leave me.”, you urged, as the crew came in to help you move him.

A few days later, you woke up from a restless nap at a table in the medical unit. Bacta tanks were rare, but the rebellion had managed to secure a handful. A fact that you were more than grateful for. Day in and day out you spent by Cal’s side, waiting and worrying. The crew would bring you food, but you ate just enough to stay awake a little longer.

On the third day, fatigue had taken over and you had fallen asleep at the table, Cal’s vitals still flashing on the screen before you. He was stable now, with a high chance of recovery. Yet you still refused to move. You wanted to be there when he woke up properly…

Yet in your sleep you missed exactly that moment. It was someone else from the medical unit that came in and moved the recovering Jedi to a bed for a check-up and more rest.

Waking up and not finding him there… you feared the worst at first. Only to be assured by the first person you ran into that everything was well.

“There you are.”, he greeted you, voice still weak and eyes barely open, when you entered his room.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked, instantly taking a seat by his side.

“Probably better rested than you.” Ah, humor again. It meant good things and you managed a tired smile.

“What planet?”

The question confused you and you gave him a quizzical look.

“The house you spoke of… What planet should we build it on?”

He still remembered that. “Naboo would be nice… or Koboh… but I am open to suggestions.”, you indulged him.

“Sounds nice… What about names for the kids? Any ideas there?”

You laughed, while tears brimmed in your eyes at the same time. “Plenty…”

A trembling hand came to your face, wiping the first tear that had dared to travel over your cheek. “I thought of nothing else… that future you planned for us… it’s what kept me alive….”

More tears now, as you placed a hand over his. “Will you stop fighting now?”

He nodded slowly. “I guess I found my place in the galaxy… and it’s next to you.”

It was time for a peaceful life. For both of you.

[breakfastteatime]

The final fic request, 'Campfire', goes to @flammabel!

After a lot of arguing with himself, Cal calls the Mantis and announces he won’t be making it back to the ship tonight. The landing pad is too far in the encroaching dark and he knows a snowcloud when it’s threatening to dump a blizzard on his head. Cere’s not happy, Greez even less so, but Cal promises he’ll be careful. Besides, he’s got BD-1 with him, and the two of them are proving unstoppable so far.

“Please tell me you’ve at least got a few ration bars to get you through the night,” Greez says.

Cal checks his supplies and sets Greez’s mind at ease. “Three, including the muja fruit one.”

“That’ll do,” Greez replies.

Cere’s on him a second later. “What about where you’re taking shelter? Are you out of sight? Can you keep warm?”

Zeffo’s definitely chillier than Bracca, but Cal’s found himself a nice little cave to hide in not far from the tomb. BD-1 helped him build a fire that will keep him warm without the smoke suffocating him or giving away his position. “I’m fine, Cere. Promise. No one’s gonna find me here.”

“Be careful and stay alert,” she says. “If you need to sleep, set up some kind of early warning system that will wake you up.”

Cal looks to BD-1, who proudly shows off his most obnoxious alert sound. “We’ve got it covered, Cere.”

“Alright. Stay safe. The weather’s not looking great overnight, so keep that fire burning.”

Glancing out of the cave’s small opening, Cal can already see snow starting to fall. “At least the stormtroopers won’t be searching for me.”

“There are plenty of other things that might seek shelter in a cave,” Cere points out. “Just call if you need anything.”

“Yeah, okay. Stay safe you two.”

“Same to you.”

Cere signs off. Cal settles himself as best he can, treating himself to the muja fruit ration bar. He stares into the flames, mind drifting with the Force. The fire is a focal point, the Force exploding in its heat and light. If he let himself, Cal could lose himself in its energy and motion.

If he did…

If he could…

He’d remembered a key lesson today, but the deeper he went into the Force…

Cal pulls back, and the fire becomes nothing more than heat, light and the crackle of wood. Outside, the snowfall becomes the promised blizzard, snow tearing through the wind. BD-1 checks that he’s warm enough and Cal promises that he is. “Don’t worry,” he tells his friend. “I had to sleep on old, wrecked ships in worse weather than this. We worked triple shifts sometimes so there was no point leaving. This is practically a luxury hotel.”

For some reason, BD-1 does not seem to appreciate this. He hurries over to Cal and tells him to get settled, get some sleep, so they can head out as soon as dawn rises and the storm settles.

“I’m okay, BD, really.”

BD-1, however, goes off about optimal sleeping conditions for organics, and Humans in particular. Cal laughs at that. He did his best on Bracca, but he probably hasn’t had ‘optimal’ anything since the purge.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” Cal says. He yawns. He is tired. Running all over Zeffo and fighting on top of that has really taken it out of him. He’s disappointed to not be spending the night on his bunk on the Mantis. It’ll just make getting there tomorrow even better.

Thinking of Bracca makes him think of Prauf, of nights aboard broken ships with a fire barrel to keep them warm and rain to soothe his wandering mind. They’d play sabacc, talk about everything and nothing, and tease Tabbers for being overly worried about being eaten by the Maw.

Pulling the hood of his poncho over his head, Cal closes his eyes before the tears can fall. He thinks of Prauf, thinks of his friend’s advice. Look at me now, Prauf. I’m out here living my life and finding my destiny, just like you said.

He’s crying before he can stop himself. BD-1’s there, wiggling his way into Cal’s chest and offering a gentle hum of warmth. Cal clings to him as the grief pours out. He wishes Prauf could be here too, safe aboard the Mantis, talking to Greez about how to keep the engines running smoother, meeting Cere and asking her all the questions he had about the Jedi. Just Prauf, safe and sound and away from Bracca at long, long last.

Eventually, the tide subsides. The crackle of the campfire fills Cal’s mind, pulling him down into an exhausted slumber. He sleeps deeply, waking at dawn to find the fire still crackling, BD-1 using his head to add the last of their wood to it. Outside, the snowstorm has settled back to a gentle drift. Cal reaches for his friend. “Thanks, BD.”

Wiggling under Cal’s hand, BD-1 promises he’ll always help. That nearly sets Cal off again until he reaches for the Force and lets it quiet and calm his emotions.

They stay until the campfire burns down to embers, and then Cal calls Cere and Greez, assures both he had a quiet night and promises to be back soon.jg

[faetaiity]

Hi! May I request a Dark AU scenario where Y/N escapes their/his/her captors to go to her uncle Hypno(Adoptive or biological, I don't really care, the care is there!) Because he is a mutant that Y/N trusts?

Would Warren and Hypno still be a thing?

Hi! Reader is only allowed to be Male or GN! since you used female pronouns, so I made their pronouns He/They! sorry for the inconvenience! Context for the story! Reader doesn't have family, but they were taken in by Hypno when they were 13. since I left reader's age ambiguous, but this is set at LEAST a couple of years after the adoption, also this isn't a HC scenario, but an Actual story! (owhhh so rareeeee :')) Hypno's Current age is implied to be 35, Warren is about 32-34 btw, can't write Hypno's accent, I tried but I can't ;v; (Also, CW: Yandere behavior/elements) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ran, you ran as fast as you could you weren't a fool; those turtles were going to notice you missing in a few minutes, you had already ripped out the tracker, but Donnie and his brothers were conniving sons of bitches, they'll find you in five seconds flat out in the open.

They've been unnaturally obsessed with you once you five met, even going as far as to kidnap you, so you bolted the minute you had both plan and opportunity.

The only people you could go to see your uncle Hypno and his Boyfriend Warren, you hoped they both were still living at their apartment, but the walk would be dangerous, it was 10 minutes away, but could take as long as an hour to get there safely.

You could hear shouting and the mechanical whirr of Donnie's shell drone taking flight, thinking quickly, you bolted into the nearest alleyway, hiding behind some trashcans, you waited for a few minutes before hearing footsteps approaching the alley, stopping for a second and then resuming off the other way, sighing in relief, you decided the only way to get away was to go through the rooftops, 'they would be looking for me on the ground, right?' you thought hopefully, climbing up a fire escape, there was only a couple more blocks before you got to where your uncle last lived.

It took fifteen minutes, but you got inside your uncle's apartment complex, you looked around cautiously before knocking quickly and harshly, you heard footsteps, but the door never opened "Uncle Hypno, it's me." you whispered into the door before it slammed open, showing your disheveled uncle, who clearly hasn't been sleeping well, before you, his eyes widening before pulling you into the apartment, shutting the door and pulling you into a big hug.

"I thought you died! Where have you been?! We've been worried as hell!!!" he scolded, Warren crawled out of their bedroom and saw you, "And where have you been for the past month, young man?!" he hissed tiredly, even though Warren doesn't know you very well, he treats you like his nephew, and in return, you call him uncle.

"Mutants kidnapped me..." you mumbled, oddly calm, perhaps the adrenaline of running from your captors made you oddly numb to the situation.

They both froze, looking at each other with uncertainty "...Are you sure? Do you know what KIND of mutants? Do you know their names?" Hypno asked, ah, there's the Hypno you know and love, always fretting about you by getting information out of Ya so he can protect you

"Turtle mutants, I think you know them as you've ranted about Turtle Mutants before...." you said, all you wanted was to sleep in a place where you know you won't wake up next to four turtles cuddling you like as if like they let go, they would die.

They both stayed silent for a few moments before they looked at each other once more, you finally broke the silence "I guess there are only four turtle mutants in the entirety of New York, huh?" Hypno sighed before nodding "We need to take you to Repo mantis the minute dawn hits" Hypno said, Warren made a noise of agreement, Hypno continued by saying "The Repo yard is one of the few safe places where the turtles dare not go, they have tried before and failed because of Repo's cat."

"Is he-" you started before getting cut off "Yes. He's also a mutant, there's a few other mutants there too" Warren interrupted, "But don't worry! They're all kind individuals, they will accept you" Hypno reassured.

You all waited until 5:30 AM, it was still completely dark out but you three couldn't go out in the direct sunlight, you would get exposed.

The three of you walked briskly, not wanting to spend a minute more than you have to out in the streets of New York, you were a couple dozen yards away from the Repo Yard before Hypno got tackled, you whipped your head around to where Hypno landed

oh

Oh No.

Raph was directly on top of him with a knife to his neck, grinning maniacally, Donnie quickly grabbed you "You REALLY thought you could get away?!" he screeched, staring directly into your eyes, but it more felt like he was trying to freeze your soul to stone, you looked away in fear back towards Hypno, before you noticed Mikey walking towards him with his Kusari-Fundo, you yelled out a "Wait!!" all six eyes were on you

"I'll go back with you! Just please don't hurt my uncle!" you whimpered; it became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, the brothers looked over to Hypno and laughed out a "That's REALLY your uncle?" you nodded, tears pricking your eyes, Raph got off of hypno and walked over to you, he held your chin in his hand, making you look up at him, he stared for a few seconds before smashing your lips against his, you ended up whining and tried to push him off, which he complied with, thankfully.

Hypno looked horrified, he now realized that they weren't keeping you to hurt him, hell, they didn't even know of your ties, they were keeping you out of a sick twisted form of love

Leo and Mikey walked over, Donnie picked you up, they all looked back at Hypno and Warren victoriously, before walking off

Hypno got up and just stood there, frozen, before falling to his knees in guilt, Warren patting his back sympathetically.

[azurdlywisterious]

How would the atompunk trio react if the protags of their games were switched around. Like idk, put Chell in Rapture and the Courier(however you designed them) in Aperture and Jack in the New Vegas Strip. You can decide how the protags are swapped around though

oh ho ho you have no idea how long ive been planning the larger universe this au in my head is set in. so let's tune into the madness together, shall we?

(circutboard divider made by @violetbudd )

Mr. House meets Jack

Mr. House was not expecting a jumpy, uncoordinated young adult to stumble his way into the Lucky 38, but Victor has nothing but good things to say about the kid so he can't be bad. Jack follows order well, which is both a blessing and a curse Mr. House finds out, so he works out a way to get Victor to keep reminding Jack of what he needs to do and it's smooth sailing from there. Would consider working out a deal with the Followers of the Apocalypse to see what is up with Jack after the Hoover Dam battle.

Mr. House meets Chell

Mr. House gets along with Chell quite well. Chell is efficient and creative with completing missions. And she's willing to be paid in only information which cuts down on costs by a lot. He does find that gun of hers rather intriguing, which would turn into a whole cat and mouse of him trying to get the portal gun from her to examine and her not giving him the gun. Chaos ensues.

Cave Johnson meets the Courier

Cave Johnson wouldn't realize that the various people he keeps testing are all the same Courier. But hey, when you're dealing with an anomaly that keeps reincarnating lets you vivisect them, you tend not to ask too many questions (except for why do you keep coming back after you fall into the corrosive water). Certainly keeps the Courier around later on, hoping to figure what keeps them regenerating their body while keeping their memories intact (in his quest to live forever). Sadly, he doesn't figure it out in time. The Courier would then explore the Aperture labs until who knows when. Although thanks to the fact that they can sorta never die (sure their body dies but their memories dont think kinda like a timelord) then they would remember exactly who Caroline was when interacting with GLaDOS. Oh and the angst of finding all the old lab stuff and Cave Johnson's voice logs again at the Portal 2 timeline point of the game that would actually be heartbreaking.

Cave Johnson meets Jack

Cave Johnson loves Jack. Everyone loves Jack! Who wouldn't love Jack? Cave Johnson would be sure to let everyone know that no one gives Jack orders except for him and Caroline. Would treat Jack like the son he never had and also give him cocaine for his anxiety (for science). Would also want to vivisect Jack to figure out how he keeps lighting things like the mantis men on fire. Wasn't seriously considering making combustible lemons until he saw Jack could light things on fire and decided that the same principles could be applied to lemons too.

Andrew Ryan meets the Courier

Andrew Ryan actually gets to interact with only one Courier thanks to the Vita-Chambers. And as luck would have it, he gets to interact with Suzie Fromme (my favorite courier and the one I always think of when I think of couriers). And he would think Suzie is weird and unhinged and way too powerful but not in a cool way but in a way that scares him (you modded a Bethesda protag of course she breaks reality). But since she's an agent of chaos that only wants to help people he would strike a tentative deal with her to take Atlas down. She would agree for the low price of "a room in the prettiest building in Rapture" which according to her is in Fort Frolic(?) which with all the delirious denizens dropping like drones means that there probably is an open room. Did I mention Suzie has the Black Widow perk? Upon finding out how she got rid of Atlas, Andrew Ryan decides that she is not to be trifled with at all and can be Sander Cohen's problem until the city collapses.

Andrew Ryan meets Chell

Andrew Ryan would probably love and hate Chell. Love because she dispatches enemies with efficiency and doesn't listen to Atlas but also doesn't listen to him. Eventually determines that she just wants to go to the surface and leave forever and after doing a couple of missions for him, lets her. Doesn't like that she's playing all sides trying to find the fastest way to leave, but she just wants to always come put on top. Which she does. Would weaponize her bond with Tenenbaum in a last ditch attempt to get her to do what he wants.

[omni-present-god-send]

Hazbin Hotel One-shot

This is just a quick oneshot that takes place during the finale. It’s also a niche way to intoduce y’all to my OC. Enjoy!

Alastor shuffled his way into his radio tower. What was left of it at least. Adam got him good. His chest burned as blood trickled down from the wound. He slammed the hatch behind him as he dragged himself to the control panel. “I can see the headlines now: Alastor, altruist, died for his friends!” He mocks himself. How did he get so close with these nincompoops so quickly? Well... there was one. One that was different then the others. “Alastor? Are you in there?”. Ah. There she is.

Alastor didn’t say a word. His heart going a mile-a-minute. He can’t let anyone see him like this. Especially not her. Not Ivy. Anyone but Ivy. “I wont force you to open the door. I just want to make sure you’re OK.” Her voice sounded so sad, so scared for him. Just like... just like his own mother would when he would come back from school or the factory. Bloody and bruised from the other children beating him. It wasn’t his fault his skin was darker! His mama had darker skin then him and she was the most beautiful woman in the world! Why couldn’t they see that? Why couldn’t his papa see that he was hurting them? Couldn’t Papa see that Mama and him didn’t like when he came home smelling like booze?

“Alastor? Are you alright? Please... at least let me know you’re alive.” Oh right. Ivy is still out there. Her voice was laced with tears as she spoke. He shook the memories away. This is no time to go down memory lane. “I’m alive. There is no reason to worry.” He forced out. Trying to make his voice seem normal. Ivy sighed from the other side of the hatch. “Thank God you’re alive.”

God wasn’t here. If he was, he wouldn’t care about someone like Alastor. Not in the way his mother and Ivy did. Alastor wasn’t someone who was easy to care about. He made sure of it. Never again would he let anyone close to him. He tried that once, and look where that got him. Fighting for his life on the floor of his destroyed radio tower. Where was God when you needed him? God wouldn’t tuck him into bed with a lullaby. God didn’t make him treats when he was sad. God wouldn’t scratch behind his ears when he was stressed. God didn’t put lavender in his room to help him sleep. God only had his father come home smelling like booze and death. God let a 7-year-old risk his life in a factory all day every day just for the hope of being able to eat at the end of the week. If God existed, he gave up on humanity a long time ago.

A folded piece of paper was shoved through the hatch. He started to crawl towards it. “We won. Adam is dead and the extermination is no more. Charlie is already making plans to rebuild the hotel. I was able to sneak them.” It certainly looked like something Charlie would call a plan. It looked like it was ripped right out of her notebook. Sketched on with a pen with colorful notes made around circled sections. Music notes of Charlies favorite song were going to be a center-piece of the front. Husk, Niffty and Angel would be getting upgraded rooms all to themselves. Lucifer, ugh, would be getting his own personal suite. Across from that, on the other side of the building, was a black tower. Circled with a red glitter-gel pen. Alastor’s New Radio Tower!!!! <3

Charlie added his radio tower into the plans? It looked... nice. Built into the building instead of smashed on like his old one. What was this warm feeling? It couldn’t have been the blood from his wound, that wasn’t near where the feeling was. The feeling was in his heart. Was he... emotional? Someone else had thought of him. Added something specific especially for him. It even looked like something he would design himself! Maybe they aren’t as stupid as he once thought.

Slowly, he opened the hatch for her. Ivy only had to straighten out her stance To enter the tower. Being a 10-feet-tall Orchid Mantis helps sometimes. Immediately she saw the wound. He couldn’t have looked much better in comparison. “Alright. Sit against the wall. I’ll see what I can do to help.” To this day, he still doesn’t know why he listened to her so quickly. That’s what he tells himself at least. He could tell that she was having trouble maneuvering around the tower with her size. She didn’t say anything though. Too focused on the bleeding wound in Alastor’s chest. “Alastor, I do apologize. However, I need you to remove your coat and shirt. Only if you’re comfortable with me touching you that is.” She was always so gentle with him. Never glared at him. Never... made him sad. He removed his hand from the wound.

The sudden air on the wound made it sting. Badly. He gave an unconscious hiss at the feeling. A warm hand cupped his face. “There there. It will be alright.” He leaned into her hand as his shoulders relaxed. He felt her slowly unbutton the rest of his coat with her other hand. She removed her hand from his face to help him out of his shirt. Alastor hasn’t been this vulnerable with someone in a very long time. It felt... nice to have someone else take care of him. Even if he had to almost die to get it.

But that’s not what happened. She had been caring for him for months. Caring for all of them really, but she seemed to give Alastor extra attention. Did she sing lullabies to the others? Or teach them how to play guitar? He doesn’t think so. He knows he’s selfish and cruel. It’s part of what makes him such a good Overlord and business partner. He knows that Charlie’s whole thing is to be as good a person as possible to try for redemption, but what could it hurt to be selfish about this one thing?

A hot stinging pain shot up from his wound. “Shh shh shh. It’s alright. It’s just the anti-septic.” He didn’t even notice the medical kit she brought. He felt her scratching just behind his ears. His breathing evened out as she pet his head. “Now, I’m going to have to stitch it up. I’m warning you now cause it’s going to hurt.” was his wound really that bad?

One look told him yes. Yes it was that bad. He heard fabric ripping. Looking up, Ivy had ripped off a piece of her skirt, folded it up, and was holding it up to his face. “Bite down. This will hurt.” So he did. His sharp teeth somehow not tearing through the soft fabric.

Alastor doesn’t know how long he stayed there. Sitting against the wall of his radio tower. Being stitched up for what felt like eternity. If it were anyone else, they would have been dead before the needle broke skin. The needle and thread going in and out of his skin was torture. Even still, Ivy tried to comfort him. “You’ll be alright.” I’m almost done.” Just a little more.” “You’re doing great.”.

How did a woman like this end up in Hell? Oh right, she killed her husband and ate his head. He keeps forgetting that.

Finally, the torture is finished and Ivy finished all the stitches. She began to wrap them up so they didn’t come out. “You did great Alastor. I’m so proud of you.” Those damn words. Why does she always know what to say before even Alastor does? “Who... who killed that prick?” he finally managed to strain out, not trying to make his voice seem normal.

Ivy gave a soft smile as she helped him into his shirt and coat. “You’ll never believe me, but Niffty is the one who killed Adam.” She laughed. Alastor loved that laugh. It meant that everything would be OK. “He was so busy insulting us that he didn’t even notice Niffty sneaking up behind him.”. Seems as though celebration is in order. “Can you stand?” Alastor tried. At least, likes to pretend he did. He was just so tired. His legs ‘gave out’ under him. Seems he’s a better actor then he thought. Ivy bought it hook, line, and sinker.

“Why don’t I carry you back? I’ll make sure the others don’t see.” Alastor gave her a nod. In an instant. He was being cradled in her arms like a child. He didn’t care if the others saw in that moment. She just felt so... warm. So safe and comforting. He closed his eyes and pretended. He pretended he was a child again. Being carried by his mama off to bed after a long day of working and whatever meal his darling mama was able to whip together. He could even hear her humming Alouette to him again. Oh wait, that was Ivy. He didn’t care. He fell asleep all the same. Perhaps God hasn’t given up on him yet. After all, he did send an Angel his way.

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 18: Love Will Find A Way

Discord sat sadly on an upside-down tree stump, his head in his hands.

Throughout the kingdom, disorder seemed to leech from every crevice. Cats barked, dogs hissed, flowers replaced clouds. the ground was every pattern possible, and marbles danced like ballerinas.

"First my wife," he uttered, "now my children! I should have known! They're too good. She raised them too well."

As he spoke, Zany appeared in the air before him, bringing a smile to the draconequus' face.

"Ah, my boy!" he exclaimed, taking the baby in his arms. "You missed your daddy? You should be with your sister!"

Had he not been caught up in his joy, he would have noticed the devious smile on the infant's face.

Mothball hiked through the forest, carrying the unconscious mare on his back. His ears perked up as he heard a group of changelings nearby and quickly dove into the bushes. Screwball let out a groan, which He silenced her with his hoof.

"She must be around here somewhere!" one of the soldiers said. "I smell chocolate milk!" It was Mantis, and he sneered.

"Mantis." The Queen declared, poised. "If there was any time to tell you, it is now. When I take over the empire, I will no longer be queen. And you will no longer be by my side."

"wha- that is abysmal! I have been here since the beginning! I have helped you more than the others ever will! Do not treat me like Mothball!-"

"SILENCE!" the Queen commanded, stomping her foot and shaking the earth. She glared at him like he committed treason to her very status, and he cowered before her. His face was screwed up in a display of terror

"you will reap your rewards for such loyalty. But you're not to question my decision. You will have the empire. You will be second in command, king, while I will reign over as empress of Equestria!" Queen Chrysalis cackled and sped off with her son.

As soon as the three were gone, Mothball picked Screwball up and moved as fast as his legs could carry them both. Mothball stopped at a grand hut, knocking gently at the door.

"Who is it knocking so very late?" a deep female voice called from inside. "I'm coming, I'll hurry, please, do wait!"

Zecora opened the door.

"Please, miss Zecora," Mothball pleaded. "You have to help me! My friend here, she is..."

The pony's eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious mare. "Screwball! Bring her in, place her on the bed, and tell me why she looks near-dead!"

She guided the prince over to the bed and helped him in setting Screwball down.

"Can you help her?" Mothball begged.

"I can, but it will take a lot. Tell me what happened, leave nothing forgot.

"my mother fed on her love, disguised as her brother. Really, it's my-"

"Do not speak!" the pony commanded as she examined her patient. "She is very weak. I can barely feel her heartbeat. I'll make a soup that will help her get well. When she will recover, only time will tell."

Mothball watched curiously as the mare searched her shelves of bottles and flasks. She poured the contents of the bottle into a boiling pot of water.

"you said you got her parents together?"

"That, I guess, you could say. Oh, I'll never forget that day." She was about to pick up another ingredient when she saw that Mothball was standing with nothing to do. "How rude of me. Would you like some tea?"

He was not a fan of tea, but he did not want to reject the zebra's hospitality. He nodded dumbly.

After mixing several more herbs and spices into the cauldron, Zecora muttered something in Swahili the prince did not understand. He sipped his tea with disgust, but it did not matter to him. All he could think about was how fragile his friend looked as she lay motionless on the bed beside him. While he held his cup in one hoof, he held Screwball's hoof in the other.

In a few minutes, the soup was ready. Zecora poured a bowl and approached the sick mare.

"Tilt her head back," she said to Mothball.

The prince set down his cup and did as the zebra said. As he gently pushed back Screwball's head, her mouth fell open. The zebra put the bowl to the young mare's lips and slowly poured the soup into her mouth. When she was done, Mothball carefully released Screwball's head and her mouth closed again.

"Is she going to be alright?"

Zecora sighed as she pulled the leopard print blanket over the young mare's body. "If it is a hex that drains her here, only magic will reverse its effect, I fear."

"her love is drained, her heart is weak." Mothball's eyes glazed over with tears as he laid his hoof on his friend's forehead. "Please get better, Screwy."

"How interesting," she murmured.

"What?" the changeling asked, facing the zebra.

Zecora smirked at him. "It was very noble of you to help Screwball, something I would not expect from a changeling, Prince Mothball."

He stared at her for a long while and then asked

"I could say I'm just as surprised as you are. When you found me on the forest floor, why did you help me if you knew I was dangerous?"

"you're not dangerous, that much is true. Rather than love," she pushed a bowl towards him. "You eat stew!"

He sighed and slumped to the floor. "Thank you for helping me but... I am dangerous. I sold her out." He turned his face away from Screwball.

"Yes," Zecora nodded. "You did it because you fell in love with the pony you were supposed to dispose of."

The zebra gestured for him to sit at the table. He hesitated at the thought of parting from Screwball, but he did as she requested. After a few seconds, Zecora joined him, a coal container filled with dry rosemary in her hooves. It burned a beautiful scent as she sat down.

"Well, your guess was only half right," Mothball claimed. "Changelings cannot love, let alone fall in love. I don't even have a heart."

"Are you truly sure?" Zecora asked, tilting her head. "After taking her for a cure?"

"She's the only friend I ever had. What was I supposed to do?"

She shook her head. "You are so blind to what made you betray. Let us see what the candles say."

She grabbed two candles and spread them on the table.

"one will be your mother, your kingdom and your brother. The other is you, your mind split in two." The first was red, the other green.

The candles were cleansed and wrapped together. The cord holding them together burned bright but refused to break. The flame spread from the red one to get green, and the green one dripped wax, putting the flame out only a little.

"This represents the hell of your past. You've been scolded and harassed. A demon took control of your mind, shaping you to be blind to your heart, quite cleverly. As a result, you have been treated unfairly."

"My mother."

The flame burned the green candle faster. The cord finally broke and latched itself around the green candle.

"You see yourself as a demon as well, a monster who belongs in Hell. You think that you are heartless, emotionless and bad. It is these very thoughts that make you sad."

"Your present involves Temperance," the zebra stated, "a symbol of balance."

"What does that mean?" the prince inquired.

The candle let the cord go, and refused to burn as hard as it should.

"You have given up your habits as a changeling and have let your true emotions take wing. All your life, you followed your mother. You left that mare for another. The pegasus' wings are red, representing 'desire,' but is white from hoof to head, representing 'purity.' You have combined both with maturity. You are a creature that feeds on love, but now you share it with that dove."

She added basil around the candles, to represent Screwball. The green candle burned bright, white smoke forming... Hearts?

She pointed to Screwball.

"Okay, so I've changed," Mothball admitted, "but I told you, I'm not made to love!"

"When it comes to love, your future is bright. Do you believe now that I am right?"

The red candle crackled black smoke, melting fast and toppling over.

Mothball seemed sad, scared. Almost relieved.

"you're good at interpretation, I can tell. Your heartbeat rings loud and well."

He paused. "My heart?"

"do you not hear it? It is loud and will not quit." She laughed, clapping a hoof onto the ground.

As he followed the zebra, Mothball realized something. He pressed his hoof onto his chest.

Something thumped wildly against his hoof in a way similar to the thumping inside Screwball. He had felt it many times before, but told himself it was nothing but the love he consumed pulsing through him. Then why was it in the exact same place in his chest as in Screwball's?

Where the heart should be?

Mothball looked up at the zebra. "There has to be another explanation. I'm not supposed to have a heart."

"That does not mean you cannot," Zecora stated. "What else could fill that spot? If you are feel nothing for it all, how do you explain your feelings for Screwball?"

The prince looked at the mare in the bed. Some of the color had returned to her cheeks, giving her face a gentle glow. It made him smile to see this, but also sad that she was still not awake.

"I can't explain it," he admitted. "The moment I saw her, I was bewitched. Sometimes I wonder if she cast a spell on me, but the more time I spent with her, the more I was compelled to stay with her. I tried not to, because I didn't want to hurt her, but I kept coming back.

"I know she loves me. I've always known. I was supposed to feed off it, but you know something? No matter how much time I spent with her, she never seemed to wither, not in the slightest. I felt her love transfer to me, but her energy never diminished. I began to assume she was immune."

He hung his head. "That was clearly not the case, after what my mother did to her."

Mothball noticed Screwball shivering, so he pulled the covers back over her body.

"I can't stop thinking about her," he continued. "Everything about her: her laugh, her smile, her sense of humor, her hair, her eyes..." He sighed. "Oh, what I would give to see them again. Do you think she'll get better soon?"

When he received no answer, Mothball turned his head. The zebra was no longer behind him.

"Zecora?"

"Do not fear! I am here."

He jumped and she was behind him, bringing two heart shaped flowers together. She placed more into the soup, and it bubbled and glittered. Then, suddenly, it erupted into a prism of light!

"What was that?" the prince questioned, still in awe.

"That," Zecora replied, "is what happens when two become one, when they possess a magic more powerful than the sun. What you think as a weakness is not so. Strength is what comes with the glow."

He stared at her and then at Screwball.

"If nothing changes, I could make more stew," the zebra said, "but I'll need some ingredients, and help from you."

As Screwball gained consciousness, everything came flooding back: her father's mental breakdown, her unpleasant encounter with Dinky, her mother's supposed betrayal, her brother turning out to be Chrysalis...

Her brother.

"Zany," she murmurred.

She felt something cool on her forehead, causing her to slowly open her eyes.

"Zany," she said again.

"Shhh," a warm voice whispered. "Take it easy"

When Screwball's vision came into focus, she saw a zebra over her and pressing a wet cloth to her forehead.

"Zecora?"

"It is good to see you awake. Tell me, does anything ache?"

The young mare groaned. "My head."

Zecora left for a moment and came back with a cup of tea. "Drink this, but not too fast. You lack your strength, but the worst has past."

Screwball struggled to sit up. "How did I get here? How long was I out?"

"For an hour you have been here. It was one of your friends that brought you, dear."

"Really?" she asked, sipping the tea. "Who? Dinky? One of the twins?"

The zebra was about to answer when a voice interrupted her:

"Hey, Zecora! I think I got the things you asked for!"

A gray stallion carrying a saddle bag stood in the doorway. Not knowing Screwball was awake, he transformed into Mothball. The young mare gasped.

"YOU!"

The changeling turned in alarm, but then smiled. "You're awake! Thank goodness!"

Screwball looked accusingly at Zecora. "How could you let him in here?! Do you have any idea who he is?!"

"He is the one who saved your life," the zebra replied. "I do not know why this causes you strife."

"Humph!" the mare huffed. "Saved my life, my hoof! What happened, your highness? Didn't want to lose your primary food source?!"

Mothball's grin had faded. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb! You've been using me all this time! You told your mother all my secrets! You betrayed me! I thought you were my friend!"

The prince was confused. "Screwy, let me explain..."

"I trusted you!"

"Screwball, please lie down..." Zecora started to say.

"No!" she screamed. "I won't be in the same room with him!

Suddenly, the pillows flew off the bed and zoomed toward Mothball. He managed to duck in time.

"Screwy, please!" he begged.

But the mare was already up and running toward the door.

"you aren't okay! Come back and stay!" Zecora yelled.

Mothball moved in front of the mare. "The changelings are looking for you! It's not safe out there!"

Screwball scowled at him. "Oh, and I'm soooo safe with you?!"

She pushed him back and raced outside. She did not know where she was going. She just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. And yet, her heart was telling her to go back, but she would not listen. She did not trust her heart anymore.

It did not take long for her to run out of breath. She had gained some strength during her rest, but not enough to teleport. She panted with thirst and then spotted a river nearby.

As she knelt down for a drink, she caught her reflection, making her pause. The mare in the water looked just like her, only paler and...broken.

She sobbed. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't been so foolish, if I had listened to Daddy, none of this would've happened. I'd still be at home with my family, my friends...Zany."

Her little brother was her deepest regret. The poor infant had done nothing wrong, and yet he was paying the price for her actions. How could Mothball betray her all his time...?

If that was the case, then why could she not stop thinking about how hurt he had looked when she had rushed out? For that matter, why had he brought her to Zecora's in the first place? Why had he not taken her to Chrysalis?

Why did her heart still ache at the thought of him?

She looked at her reflection again and splashed the water furiously.

"I don't know what to think anymore!" she bawled.

She buried her face in her hooves, not hearing Mothball as he came out of the trees.

He looked at her with sad eyes, wanting to wrap his forelegs around her and assure her everything was alright. She had every right to be upset with him and he could not help but feel guilty.

He had to let her know how he felt, but he was not sure how. He was not disguised as a pony with nothing to lose. He was his changeling self. After what he had done, would she believe him?

He thought back to the night of the Grand Galloping Gala, when they had danced together. She had looked so beautiful. He then realized that at some point that night, he had fallen utterly and completely in love with her.

He started to sing: "In a very unusual way..."

Screwball's head shot up at the sound of his voice.

"One time I needed you."

She turned to him as he cautiously approached. Her instincts told her to run, but her heart kept her in place.

Mothball gulped as he continued: "In a very unusual way, you were my friend."

Screwball raised an eyebrow at him, slightly confused about why he was singing. It was not the sweetest of voices, and there was nervousness in his tone, but it was not horrible.

"Maybe it lasted a day, Maybe it lasted an hour, But somehow it will never end."

He held out his hoof, but she turned away. Mothball was hurt, but he would not give up.

"In a very unusual way, I think I'm in..."

He choked on this word.

"I think I'm in..."

Screwball faced him again, her eyes wide. She remembered this song from the Gala, along with the next lyric.

Could it be?

Mothball was struggling so hard, he skipped the verse altogether, and the one after

"In a very unusual way..."

He reached out his hoof again. This time, she let him touch her.

"I owe what I am to you."

Screwball turned the rest of her body as he laid both his hooves on her shoulders.

"Though at times it appears I won't stay, I never go."

She wanted to keep listening, but her mind took control and she wrenched herself out of his grasp. She walked away with her head down, but Mothball was determined not to lose her again. He sang louder and with more passion:

"Special to me in my life..."

Screwball stopped in her tracks.

"Since the first day that I met you."

She slowly turned her head back to him.

"How could I ever forget you Once you had touched my soul?"

She was now looking directly into his emerald eyes.

"In a very unusual way..."

They were so sincere, so sad, so desperate, in a way no creature could possibly fake.

"You've made me...whole."

She did not need her power to see the truth in them.

Screwball turned fully toward him. He extended his foreleg to her.

"I love you, Screwy."

The young mare could not contain her emotion any longer and did not hesitate to rush into his embrace.

"I always have."

[fanfoolishness]

the music of the spheres (Jedi: Fallen Order)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order, 2000 words, gen. Greez & Cal. Greez Dritus tries to get used to his new passenger. Set immediately after the prologue. Just a little early found family, a little bit of Cal's PTSD, and Greez looking out for someone besides himself.

--

The Mantis hummed her way through hyperspace, the way she always did when he managed to stay caught up on repairs.  Greez hummed with her, a little half-melody under his breath, careful not to wake Cere and Cal.  A strange crew if he’d ever had one.

He shook his head, waiting for his tea to steep.  This was a weird gig.  Probably his weirdest.  Definitely the first time he’d ever been hired to do something of galactic importance. He gave his tea a final stir and twitched the teabag out, taking a deep breath of mintrose and bluewing honey.  This was some of the last of his stash, but It’d been a rough few weeks on the run and dank farrik, he deserved a little treat.  

He went to take a sip, but the scalding heat deterred him.  He wasn’t sure why he was surprised; he knew how long it took the tea to cool.  Impatient as always.

He hummed his half-melody, then let it fade in his throat.  There was some other sound mixed in, something wrong, discordant.  Greez picked up his head, ears twitching.  What was that?  He set down his cup of tea carefully on a coaster and gazed around.  

Cere was still up front, stretched out and snoozing quietly in her chair.  She’d complain about being sore in the morning, but she was the one who’d grumbled at him when he tried to convince her to go catch some proper shut-eye.  Wasn’t her, then.

He heard it again, a sound that didn’t fit with the familiar thrum of the Mantis.  Some kind of mumbling.  He couldn’t make out the words.

Maybe the kid was chanting?  Seemed like something a Jedi would do.  He ought to leave him to it.  But Greez was a nosy one, and it was his ship, anyway.  He left the galley and headed back to the bunks.  

He heard a distinct “no” and he nearly stopped and turned around.  He was halfway through calling out a hasty apology when he realized it didn’t seem like the word had been said at him.  He crept on down the hallway.  

In the dim sleeping lights he could just make out the kid, curled up in his bunk, fast asleep.  Maybe he’d imagined hearing something?  But the kid’s face looked tense.  Off, somehow.  Greez watched him, feeling unsettled, though he wasn’t sure why.

The kid flinched.  “No, please, stop -- don’t shoot, don’t --” the kid slurred.  Even from a few feet away Greez could tell he was shivering in his sleep.   “Master -- ‘m sorry -- no --”

That was far enough.  “Kid?” Greez called out.  “Uh, hey, Cal?  You all right?”

The kid snapped awake, wild eyes darting, shoulders heaving.  He sat up sharply, taking ragged, gulping breaths.  “What -- where am I --”  

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Greez awkwardly, holding out his hands.  You put your foot in it now, Dritus!  He slowed his speech, tried on what he hoped was a soothing tone.  “You’re on the Mantis, with me and Cere.  Remember us?  Picked you up on Bracca?  Saved you?”  

“Bracca -- Prauf…” the kid said, the hunted look fading into something dazed and blank.  He blinked, then scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his grimy hand.  “I -- I must have been dreaming.  I remember now.”  He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk, swallowing.  “What is it?”

Greez twisted his lower pair of hands together, fiddling with his fingers.  “You were talkin’ in your sleep.”

“Oh,” Cal said.  He looked away.  “I didn’t know.  Sorry.”

“You got nothing to be sorry for,” said Greez.  Kriff, what was with this kid?  “Just didn’t sound pleasant, that’s all.  Figured I’d check on you.  You okay?”

Cal opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it.  “I don’t know,” he said sheepishly. “I guess not?  I try not to think about it.”  He smiled.  It looked like he was trying to remember how.

Greez let out a long breath.  “Huh.  I know a thing or two about that, I guess.  Hey.  Come on, kid, take a walk with me.”

“A walk?  Did we land?”

“Figure of speech.  But you look like you could use something to clear your head.”

Cal stared down at his boots.  “Did I wake you up?  I didn’t mean to.”

“No, you’re -- Come on, look, I ain’t asking a third time.”

“Uh, all right,” the kid said.  He got to his feet, towering over Greez.  Well, he wasn’t the tallest human Greez had ever seen, but he gangled, and it made him seem taller.  Maybe it was part of a larval stage human younglings went through.

Greez led him back to the galley, gangles and all.  “Go on, grab some seat.  Got something for ya.”  The kid sat down on the couch, clearly confused.  

Greez didn’t blame him.  Hell, he felt a little confused about this too.  What was he supposed to do?  He was harboring two Jedi -- well, a former one, and half of one -- on his ship, he had about sixteen bounties out on his head, and now the Empire and the Inquisitors were breathing down his neck.  None of it made any damn sense, and he had no idea how he was going to handle any of it.

He could handle this one little thing, though.

Greez grabbed the tea, now cooled to the perfect drinking temperature.  It panged him, but he handed it to the kid and pressed it into his gloved hands.  “Here you go.  Made it special, just for you.”

The kid’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he froze for a moment, lost in some kind of reverie.  He shook himself free of it and gave Greez a smile, one that reached his eyes this time. “No, you made it for you.  You were looking forward to it.  You should have it.”

Greez groaned.  “Is this some weird Force magic?  You have tea-sensing abilities?  Cere didn’t tell me that.”

Cal snorted.  “Not specifically tea, that would be weird.  Just -- sometimes I get echoes from the Force in things.  Memories.  This time it just happened to be tea.”  He paused.  “You sure you don’t want it?  It does smell pretty good.”

“Nah,” Greez said, waving an arm and settling down beside the kid.  “My great-grandma always used to make it when I had trouble sleeping.  Looks like you need it more than I do.”

The kid nodded.  “I don’t sleep so well,” he admitted.  “I mean, I guess you noticed that.”  He took a drink of the tea, and sighed in surprise.  “Hey.  That’s, um, that’s really good.  What is it?”

“Mintrose,” said Greez proudly.  “Grew it myself here on the ship.  Though it’s the last harvest I’ll get for a cycle, I think.  You can only take so much at a time.”

Cal took another drink.  “What’s the sweetness?  Is that the mintrose?”

“Bluewing honey,” Greez said.  “Got it off a trader in Mos Eisley.  Stuff’s supposed to be rare as anything, but I won it in a game of sabacc.  Running out, though, I’ll have to find more.”  Especially if he was going to have to share his stock with this hangdog scrapper kid.  

“You really think there’s something out there, like Cere says?” Cal asked.  “Something to hope for?”  

“Don’t look at me.  It’s above my pay grade,” said Greez.  

The kid lowered his eyes, shoulders slumping beneath his too-large poncho.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He took another drink.  His face twisted to one side, like he wanted to say something and thought better of it.

“Ah, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Cal asked.

“The whole existential dread thing.  Weight of the galaxy and all that.  Is that a Jedi thing?  Cere does it too when she thinks I’m not looking.”

The kid laughed, a short, bitter sound.  “Maybe it is a Jedi thing.”

Huh.  This wasn’t helping the kid, Greez realized.  He leaned back in his seat, thought about the wide starflung void surrounding them.  Could there be something out there?  Something to hope for?  If there was, it’d be a damn shame to leave it all to the Empire.  Wouldn’t it?

“Don’t listen to me,” he said abruptly.  “There really might be something to Cere’s idea.  I dunno, it’s between you and her to figure out.  But honestly?  I hope she’s right.  Galaxy could use a new bright spot.”

Cal raised his head, staring at the holotable.  The holo projection of Bogano blinked above it, a sleepy little world in green and brown and blue far on the Outer Rim.  

Maybe it was nothing.  Maybe it was something.

“A new bright spot?  …It’d mean a lot.”  Cal finished the tea and set it down.  

“Coaster!”

“Sorry!”  The kid twitched one over with a wave of his fingers, setting the mug down on top of it.  “Sorry.”

“S’all right,” said Greez, but he surreptitiously reached out and wiped away the bit of moisture clinging to the table’s surface. “Just trying to keep her in good shape.  She’s all I got.”

“Well, you’re doing it,” said Cal.  “The ship’s great!”

“You’re just sayin’ that.”

“I’ve seen a lot of ships in the past five years, Greez.  Trust me.  She’s all right,” said Cal earnestly.

“Yeah?  Tell me about ‘em.  I always like hearing ship stories.”

Cal settled in, leaning back against the couch and looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought.  He pursed his lips.  “Ever seen the guts of a Lucrehulk?”  

Greeze whistled.  “I’ve heard about ‘em.  Never seen one in the flesh.  That must’ve been something else back when it was new, huh?  How long does it take to scrap something like that?”

Cal laughed again, stifling a yawn.  “Well, the freighter we had down on Bracca?  The Seia Khorrinos?  That’s what I first started on, after I -- Anyway, five years later, they’re still working on it.  It’s stripped down pretty far -- we definitely made some progress -- but there’s still years of work to do.  Solid construction, though.  You don’t see many like that.”

“Sounds impressive.  Never saw one myself in the Clone Wars,” said Greez.  “Tried to stay out of things if I could.  But one time I ran the wrong way up against a Subjugator.  Damn thing packs a helluva punch.”

Cal yawned again.  “What were you doing, trying to get past a Subjugator?  In this ship?  You a smuggler, Greez?  Be honest.”

“Me?  A smuggler?  I’m wounded at the accusation,” Greez argued.  “Okay, sure, I’m smuggling some Jedi right now, but that’s different.”  He launched into a fine retelling of how he’d been carrying cargo for some backwater scuzz to pay off a gambling debt, how he’d been caught in the midst of a crazed firefight, how he’d jettisoned the cargo to confuse the droid fighters and dashed away victoriously into the safety of hyperspace -- 

When he looked over and saw the kid had fallen asleep.  

“All right, all right,” said Greez.  He got up and shuffled to the kid’s bunk, and came back with a blanket.  He tossed it over him, then poked him in the shoulder until the kid mumbled something.  “Lay down, you’re gonna be sore if you don’t.”

“Mrrph ffrr brr,” the kid muttered, stretching out on the couch.  Greez winced, realizing the kid still had on his oil-stained boots; they were gonna scuff up the seat something fierce.  He let out a long breath, fighting the urge to shove the kid’s feet back to the ground, and shrugged all four shoulders.

Eh.  He could always clean it up in the morning.

He hit the galley lights, and deep, comforting darkness filled the ship.  The emergency lights twinkled in the black, their colorful pinpoints melding with the soft holo glow of Bogano.  A bright spot, indeed.

“Night, kid.”

The only reply came in Cal’s quiet breathing, interwoven with the shimmering hum of the Mantis gliding through hyperspace.  Greez nodded, humming his little half-melody along with the song of his ship, and this time, it sounded right.

[truedarkhunter]

A little more about Book of Circus

So I was squinting at the opening images of the Circus anime and thought I saw an alicorn or a winged horse, so I went back and paused it. Instead, it was a griffin. My favorite fantasy creature. That, of course, got me thinking about it. Why is it there? Is it a metaphor about the show? A merging of two things that should be impossible. (Well, Yana Toboso certainly has been repeating that theme throughout, hasn't she?) Nearly all the top circus performers in the show have been given prosthetic limbs, a merging of bodies or forms, if you will. (If you've seen the show, it does make that "merging" idea come out in yet another creepy, creative way.) However, near it is an Egyptian-styled statue. Then I realized, Noah's Arc Circus showed curiosities! Yes, we have Snake, but didn't really see his act. The strongman at the opening is doing fire-breathing, another curiosity act, not necessarily his main one.

The third one appeared to be displaying paintings or photographs of some sort. They look like they have figures in them. Unfortunately, as best as I can make out, the first one could be Baron Kelvin, or a person in a bear head and long jacket holding a basket of flowers. So...images of past performers? Art for sale? Previous/current fliers or posters? Whatever the case, these are in the white and purple striped tent set.

When we see Ciel Phantomhive, he is in one that has another juggler or stage magician with a green colored ball in hand, entertaining a pair of children. They appear to be out with a governess or long-suffering mother. The tent appears green, and indeed they have a green lamp outside similar to the one in front of Undertaker's shop. However, instead of being green flame, it is likely that it is green glass causing the color change. (Does anyone else wonder about that green flame at Undertaker's shop that never gets remarked upon?)

On the wall behind the performer are a pair of framed pieces. The one directly above the performer's head appears strongly to be a set of pinned insects on display. There is a large moth or butterfly on the left, a similar shape above, center, but to the right, the shape shifts, so my guess would be a locust or mantis. The far right is very spread out. That looks more like a crayfish/small lobster, fish, or a humming bird. Quite a range, I know. The "tail" is telling. That drooping shape isn't that common. The thicker body and smaller lumps imply fins or claws. Some fancy goldfish can sport such a tail, but the bodies tend to be more rounded. I'd place my bet on the cast shell of a fancy lobster like a blue lobster, or maybe something similarly bright like a mantis shrimp. Hmm, Homarus gammarus "European lobster" would fit the bill, but be rather common. Still, not everyone would have seen them up close. It might be a Florida crayfish since that would be quite "exotic" and the right size in comparison to the possible Atlas Moth also displayed. Catching some more still frames, there is a series of 3-sided tents with open fronts showing paintings, some implements including a guitar and a coal shovel with a cover (to keep the coal dust down). These could have been innovations on everyday objects or some things brought in from Spain or the Americas.

The second booth has a low glass case with some women ooh-ing over it. That could very well be a mummy they are displaying. Having looked at Victorian England history, they were absolutely disrespectful of Egyptian dead! "Mummy brown" was literally a paint made from mummy corpses. People would grind them up and try to treat ailments like it was tiger gall bladder. There is so much story fodder here. Anyway, there is a strong likelihood that they had one they put on their train as they set up in different locals. So they had that on their train...along with a sewn-together griffin. It makes sense that they would create such a creature much as P.T. Barnum did with the Fiji mermaid. Noah's Arc Circus wasn't as small as it seemed.

It makes some sense, clearly their benefactor, Baron Kelvin, had deep pockets. The lion used could even have been from the circus from earlier years or purchased from another circus when it got too old for it to inspire people. Alternatively Kelvin could have hunted it himself in his early years on a game preserve or just had one sent by a trophy hunter. The eagle(s) may have also been show animals.

There are two in the opening.

The first is part of the griffin. You can see the lion's tail in the frame of the red archway as the "camera" moves from Jumbo to Doll and Wendy and Peter. The second is on Dagger's left as he looks over at Beast who lounges across Betty. This one has its full eagle tail spread, so it is a second bird. Why this one? It could symbolize the desire to be free from the dark servitude the circus players are forced to do. It may also be how Dagger's pride is keeping him from being honest with Beast about how he feels. Alternatively, it could be that the Circus once had a falconer as part of their show who flew a pair of eagles. They had them taxidermied as they birds are expensive, rare, and could still draw a crowd/keep people entertained at the curiosities booths before the main performance.

More evidence that this is a larger circus: They have a carousel/merry-go-round (or roundabout in England or "galloper" by showmen) that has wooden horses in place of real ones. It has 4-5 horses only, but carousel horses were rather expensive as they were hand-crafted. By 1889, they were common at fairs, so having one would boost their credibility. (These details are from Wikipedia on Carousels btw, and a little from Greenfield Village.) On a side note: Apparently in the United Kingdom the horses move clockwise (with the animals facing left), while in N. America and Mainland Europe, they go counterclockwise (the animals facing to the right.)

In front of the carousel is a performer in a white top hat, layers of ruffles around the neck, and 4 stripes down the front of a shirt, likely also ruffles or meant to imitate the pleats of a formal shirt. To their right is another performer wearing a pink bow, black mask, and purple and white stripes on the top with a purple skirt below. The edge of the top has a soft material that looks like purple knitting. They have a black mask and a white or pale pink choker on and appear to be selling balloons...with helium or hydrogen in them. The New York Times reported on the balloon's potential for amusement at popular gatherings in 1873 (according to slate.com). So there was time for rubber balloons to be in popular production by 1889 when Circus takes place. However, they were likely still pretty cutting-edge. Tigers started appearing in circuses around 1831 with the French trainer Henri Martin in Germany. (britannica.com)

Then we have the chandeliers. These are being suspended off a hefty wooden frame inside the big tent. The center one ha the most impressive glass or crystal hanging from it. The others in the background seem to serve more for illumination.

However, the stage lights appear to be gas lights. At the very least they are candles and there are many. Even the main tent had a separate, squared-off entrance, if not multiple such entrances. All of this starts to add a lot of time to set-up, tear-down, and transport. When we look at the clothing of the guests, we see quite a few elegant gowns in various styles with bows and bustles. Likewise, the coifs are done up high and many ladies are sporting hats with some form of decoration, from bands to feathers. The 2 children behind Ciel show the girl wearing a fur-trimmed cape with white gloves and the little boy is sporting a bowtie. Thus, the middle and upper classes were definitely drawn to it. So Noah's Arc Circus was well-funded and likely had at least a month or more in a single location in order to make up for the number of days it took to break it down.

There were separate areas for the top tier performers vs. the lower tier ones. We are mostly introduced to the top-tier tents, but can see hints of the other area outside it. While not as large as Barnum and Bailey at it's height of 1, 100 people, it had to have a good sized number of people to make it work. That means lots of interesting side characters and stories to draw from.

Looking at the frames of people practicing, there are between 15-22. (Is that William in a yellow top, shorts, and leggings in the background?) When "Black" shows off, there are 2 scenes, one of people drawn to watch and the other of people gathering around him. Most of the people are not repeats and there is again about 15-22, and that isn't including the 2-3 Italian-style clowns that show up. So Noah's Arc Circus is probably around 100-300 people, I would guess. What's your guess?

For @Shinigami-Mistress (My response to Shinigami-Mistress' lovely art piece was to write a long blog post. Sorry it isn't about Grelle, but hopefully it will give you some new ideas, too.)

[popitdontdropitwrites]

"The Mantis" Medic/Sniper - Chapter 1

Summary: Ludwig Humboldt, a renowned geneticist with an unconventional understanding of ethics, begins an ambitious project to evolve mankind through genetic modification. With the help of his lab assistant, Mick, he introduces praying mantis DNA into his body, eventually transforming him into a exceptionally powerful and highly intelligent human/mantis hybrid.

This does not come without costs, however, as in time, the cold, efficient ideology of insects – being to survive, thrive and breed – takes over completely. His once noble goal of improving the lives of mankind distorts and twists within his altered mind into something far more sinister...

You can also read the fic on ao3 here

This fic is co-written with Murder_Media on ao3. All chapters from Sniper's POV have been written by them. I have written all of Medic's POV.

All I will say is, monsterfuckers this is for you.

Her prodigious size alone could have easily dwarfed the rest of the collection, but it was her beauty that transformed her into a fearsome, tyrannical queen amongst mere servants. Her emerald skin, complemented by a pleasing cerise blush speckled on her limbs shone as though it had been lovingly polished by dutiful, worshipping hands. Her eyes, marbled with lush greens, followed his own with miniscule pupils imbued with predatory focus, as if she lusted for him with the same lethal passion. He put on his best smile – which was often enough to frighten even the most fearless men – and brazenly reached out to touch, expecting her to cower in fear, but if anything, she doubled down. The praying mantis reared up tall, raising her scythelike forelimbs as her wings opened wide to reveal fine, lacey wings adorned with beautiful vermillion eyes, beckoning and challenging him in one carefully constructed expression.

At his corrupt, rotten age, Ludwig often thought he was incapable of love beyond his unprofessional interest in the human form and all of its gloriously efficient organs but this creature made his heart flutter so violently that it seemed to bleed with love. He felt a sort of kinship with this slave of ruthless instinct and baser desire, one he had never quite experienced with another man. He decided then that she would be his bride, a match made in heaven, or perhaps hell – it did not matter either way to him, for the only smile that he cared for was his own, not those of the gods. 

He was not referring to matrimony in the traditional sense, rather, he was intending for a marriage on a genetic level, a fusion of Ludwig’s own DNA with that of this fantastic creature to construct an entirely new being, one that would be knighted with the prestigious title of progress or better yet, evolution . From his stately example, a new species would emerge, irrevocably changing the course of humankind’s history from perniciousness to greatness, until the old, pitiful definition of men fell into obsoleteness.

He would be heralded as a genius, one worthy of being a leader of the scientific community rather than just another dreadfully average pawn. His past work, though many swore on its brilliance, had merely got his foot in the door. This ambitious project, should it succeed, could grant his name the respect and awe it deserved, landing himself alongside the greats and in time, perhaps with a fine vintage in hand, he could bear witness to the fruits of his hard labour; an ideal, utopian world, inspired by his vision.

His assistant let out a wolf whistle, treating their subject as if she were any other pretty thing, yet to realise her true importance.  “She’s a beaut, isn’t she?” He lauded, turning his hand over to demonstrate the fearlessness of the creature hanging from the hands of a figure she would likely consider a god from her small, unknowledgeable eyes.

“She’s perfect.”

“Thank fuck for that, eh?” Mick replied, kicking up more of a huff than he truly meant, as betrayed by the slight but perceptible levity in his tone. “Here I was thinkin’ you’d send me back to the forest again to find ya more bloody bugs.”

His lip twitched in disapproval at Mick’s flippant attitude, but quickly forgave it; he was just a boy, after all. “Can you really blame me for being particular? You are forgetting that it is my body being subjected to this experiment.” He rebutted, raising a brow to his assistant. “We are not toying around with lab rats and bunnies anymore.”

“Right, of course.” He straightened up a bit, his body apologising in the place of words. “I’m glad you like her. I nicked a bunch of pretty sheilas for ya, but I think she might’ve…” Mick crouched down beside Ludwig, looking inside of the makeshift habitat. “Yeah, she’s eaten ‘em, so it’s her or nothin’.” 

“Excellent!” He exclaimed with inappropriate enthusiasm. “It saves us from having to pick out the inferior specimens ourselves.”

“Survival of the fittest and all that.” Mick ran a hand through his overgrown hair, picking a stray twig out from his umber locks, the minute tremor in his fingers making the task far more difficult than it should have been. “Do you want to hold her?” Mick outstretched his hand to him and the mantis tensed, ready to strike if he dared to come any nearer.

Ludwig humoured Mick, if only to bite into his boyishness and savour the taste. “Please. It would be a little rude of me to harvest our subject’s DNA without properly meeting her first, don’t you think?” 

He encouraged the insect to climb onto the back of his hand and after some protest, she did, curiously crawling all over his arm, her feet sticking to the dark hair. Ludwig pushed up his glasses, getting a better look at her most intricate features – her delicate antennae, the coarse spikes on her raptorials, the leaflike pattern of her tegmina, the softness of her underbelly…

“You made an excellent choice. She is… hah, I don’t even have the English words… Schön, Prächtig, Königlich… And gott, I can’t even begin to imagine the end result!” He grinned, suddenly overexcited, as if a fire had been ignited from under his skin. “We should get to work at once. Prepare her for the procedure, bitte.”

He offered their subject back to Mick, and she scurried back to the safety of his knuckles. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now. We have far too much work to do and to be honest with you, I am much too excited to delay it any longer.” 

Mick tried to hide it, but his hesitation was as obvious as the stubble he had neglected to shave this morning. He glanced down at the praying mantis, his downturned lips laden with pity. 

“Getting attached already, are we? I thought I taught you better than that.” 

“I can’t help it, I’ve always had a soft spot for these little guys.”

“Don’t be such a baby.” He chuckled, finding his sudden softness to be endearing, if not a little aggravating – he did not have the time for this. “You have done far worse before and have never had a problem.” He did not consciously intend for it but his voice fluttered playfully, demeaning the younger man. “What’s the matter with you today, hm? Normally you’re so good for me.” 

“Nothin’, it’s just a bit… cruel, isn’t it?”

“I assure you, my dear boy, it’s anything but.” The scientist replied, dismissing his concerns with a casual wave of his hand. 

Mick opened his mouth, whether he was about to interject or agree was inconsequential; Ludwig was not yet finished.

“It is relatively quick, and remarkably painless. For a mindless, simple insect, I would go as far as to say she won’t feel a thing.” He licked his lips, detecting the comforting familiarness of those words. Perhaps Mick did too. “Go on, say your goodbyes if you must and be done with it.”

The bushman averted his gaze. “Yes, doc.”

“Good boy.” He patted him on the back, offering him a single honeyed drop of comfort to whet his appetite for when he would inevitably return for more with woefully bitten, bloodied lips, chewing them even still, burdened by it all. “Meet me in the laboratory when you are finished.”

Mick grabbed the jar and eased the insect back inside, effectively sealing her inside of her soon-to-be coffin, devoid of the energy he had arrived with. He wordlessly headed towards their makeshift walk-in freezer, disappearing behind its hulking metal doors.

He breathed out the last of his irritation and collected a lab coat from the rack beside the staircase. Ludwig slipped into it with habitual ease, feeling far less bare than before. He scowled at a purplish bloodstain on one of the sleeves and thought to gently remind Mick of it later, once he was in a better mood. 

He strode upstairs, bounding up each one and tapping at the railing, unable to wait any longer. It would only be a few minutes before their specimen was ready for the procedure, but in this state, time would crawl along, much like the hours, if not the days prior to this moment.

Ludwig flicked the switch and the dazzling, almost blindingly white lights of the laboratory stuttered to life, emphasising the pearliness of the tiling, the sleekness of the slate countertops, the glint of oiled machines and the pristineness of his tools. If he did not adore the disgustingly excessive cleanliness and sterility, he would surely be driven mad by it. There was a comfort to be found in seeing one’s own reflection in every freshly sanitised surface, the smells of latex and chemicals, the blissful quiet away from the apartments below. For Ludwig, this place may as well have been a personally tailored paradise, even if others considered that sentiment unusual. 

Unlike their humble living quarters, the laboratory sported the finest, latest technology, most of which had been especially designed for his use. He had called in a few favours with a good friend of his, a fellow visionary of the future who only asked for a public endorsement for his company when the time came to speak to the press in return for his work. As promised, a fine leather case rested on the workbench, complete with handling instructions for the courier, demanding the utmost care and attention as to not break the device within – he sincerely hoped Mick too, had abided by them when taking it inside. Ludwig placed his hands on the case, his fingers hesitating on the golden latches, tempted by their heavenly shine.

He told himself to wait, and instead, he made the necessary preparations for their experiment, snapping on a pair of red gloves as he did so. He wanted Mick to be there as he unveiled their brilliant machine to light stars in his tired, once hopeless face. Ludwig remembered the sadness tainting his distractingly vibrant viridian eyes all too well, the very same misery that had carved deep lines into Mick’s once youthful visage. Upon meeting the Australian on those squalid, filthy streets, he had initially believed the man to be only a few years his junior, but deceptively, a life of outcastment and misfortune under the Australian sun had left the poor thing to wither away into a disgustingly haggard, rapidly ageing derelict.

It seemed absurd in retrospect but he had been uninterested at first, even when the boy struck up conversation as he passed him by on the way to work, excited by a familiar, friendly-looking face, or perhaps more accurately, a well dressed, wealthy man. It was upon learning that he was only twenty-six that Ludwig stopped to spend his change on him for the opportunity to discreetly assess him. Day by day, coin by coin, he had interviewed him during their short talks, asking questions as they came up. His education; as minimal as the system allowed, his housing; a quiet bench usually safe from the elements, his relationships; profoundly harmful to all parties involved, his prior work experience; odd jobs, physical ailments; nothing he cared to admit, ideal job; anything that would take him.

He had offered him just that, and the stench of urine and grime had been enough to make him weep when his new assistant hugged him, praising him endlessly for his kindness. Many of his colleagues questioned his choice and his competency, whispering of his proclivities to one another, like a flock of talkative, prying birds. He never cared to argue the fact that they were all fools, not out of the kindness of his heart, rather, in the interest of preserving his reputation. They did not see that he had found the perfect candidate for the job – a man who would nourish his creativity and respect his decisions rather than hold him back with conflicting opinions and moral boundaries. 

Mick returned minutes later, clutching the jar in his hands, which had frosted over. His fingers, like strokes of paint on the glass, revealed artful glimpses of the carcass within as they unwittingly wiped away the ice. He brushed by the older man, looking at him for approval as he opened the jar and carefully positioned their specimen on the prepared tray. The scientist leant down, looking closely at the mantis, expecting the resilient creature to spring back to life any moment but she remained motionless, defeated by the cold hand of death at last, unaware that she would soon be defying it, or at least, her DNA would be.

He rested a hand on Mick’s shoulder, the touch startling him, though it was not unwelcome. “I have something to show you.” He met Mick’s eyes, smiling warmly at him. “I think you will like it.”

It intrigued him, as evidenced by the parting of his lips, just enough to reveal the tips of his yellowed front teeth. “I’ve been wonderin’ about that thing.” He nodded towards the box, its lid still closed tight, withholding its mysteries from the world. 

He pulled away from the younger man, gently stroking the leather surface with his fingers. “Oh, I imagine you have.” He unclipped the latches, deliberately taking his time with each one. “Would you like to see what’s inside?”

“That’d be good, yeah.”

Ludwig slowly lifted the lid of the case, revealing its embroidered silk lining and it took his breath away to see the machine of his own design resting regally on top. The medical professional’s attention landed on the sleekness of the handle and the elegance of the trigger, while the sadist’s eye went directly to the collection of sharp needles of varying shapes and sizes, their gleam as dangerous as the radiant smile of the moon.

He couldn’t help but hold the ingenious device, running his hand along the barrel, the handle, and finally to the glass chamber on the end, feeling its immense power at his fingertips. He peeked inside of the glass, noticing the blocky, jagged shapes of mechanical components inside, which worked in perfect harmony to turn bodily fluids into pure, usable genetic material before they were stored in the canister to be injected into the desired host.

He hoped it would function as he had outlined. His associate, as brilliant as he was, was no geneticist and from time to time, things got lost in translation from frantically muddled English and German to idiomatic, colloquial American English. This time, he had exhaustively explained every aspect of it to prevent such a mishap from occurring. They could not afford errors of any kind – a faulty machine could be replaced, but his body and mind could not.

“Are we gonna give it a crack or are we just gonna stare at it all day?”

“My, my, someone’s eager.” The scientist crooned, not daring to look away from the wonderful contraption for a second. He was fascinated with it to the extent where he wanted to lick it, something he recognised as potentially dangerous, for many reasons. He would have tried it, if Mick was not there to cause a fuss. “Perhaps I should test it on you, hm?”

His assistant instinctually stepped back. “Nah, you don’t want this DNA or whatever, it’s a whole lot of shit.”

“I would argue otherwise.” He stepped a little closer, a gloved hand cupping the boy’s chin, tilting his head from side to side as he stared, wide-eyed and horrified, unsure of whether he was serious or not. “You have perfect eyesight, healthy skin, flexible joints, keen senses and many aesthetic features most would consider desirable, or at least would be if you took better care of yourself.”

The bushman blinked once, twice. “Wait, what’d you just say?”

He released him, giggling with glee. “Come on now, we have an experiment to conduct!” He clasped his hands together, eliciting a strangled groan from the rubber of his gloves. Ludwig browsed through the provided needles, all of which could be installed and removed on a whim for different sized specimens. He collected the smallest of them all – about the size of a pin needle, if not thinner – and screwed it on the end of the barrel until it was tightly in place, careful as not to prick himself.

“Stand aside, bitte. For all I know this thing might explode the moment I turn it on.”

Mick peeled away from him. “You’re jokin’ right?” He asked, nerves plaguing his normally laid-back intones.

“Of course I am. When was the last time something exploded in my laboratory?”

“Last week, you wanker.” 

“Really? I don’t recall.”

“That’s ‘cause it knocked ya out cold.” 

“Ah, yes! I remember now.” He sang cheerily. “Well, I’m sure it won’t happen again.” He grinned, flicking the switch on the side, eliciting a whirr from the harvester as it surged with energy.

“I’m not scoopin’ your brains off the floor if that thing pops like a bloody balloon.” Mick shielded his face with his hand, daring to peek through his fingers.

Ludwig lined the device up with the insect’s thorax and pierced her soft underbelly, going deep into her guts. Partially frozen haemolymph to oozed from the incision and he grinned, his fingers trembling on the trigger, unable to be still with the anticipation blitzing through his bloodstream. He gave it a firm pull, hearing it click as it locked in place. Seconds later, an inhuman groan rumbled from the depths of the machine and a light radiated from within, casting a red glow around the glass chamber. The metal warmed in his hands, and motion spurred from under his fingertips, as if the device were truly alive. 

The machine grew louder with every passing moment, the whine of its insides rapidly heightening into a pained scream. A harsh thunk sounded as the machine sucked in the creature’s fluids and organs, turning them all into an unrecognisable liquid as they passed through each section and into the chamber. The light burned brighter into a blinding vermillion sun, causing heat to seep through his gloves, becoming almost unbearable. He turned away from the glow, the shriek of the harvester rising to deafening levels. Inside, the spinning cogs and mechanisms crackled, popped and snapped, chewing each other up into unrecognisable, useless hunks of metal, filling the air with a putrid burning smell. The machine shuddered and trembled in his hands and as though it could burst at any moment, unable to take the strain of its final processes.

But a mechanical hiss, the harvester powered down, steam whispering from its ruined form. He was ready to jot this down as an astronomical failure when he noticed the fluid sloshing around within the storage tank. It was entirely colourless, meaning it was no longer tissue or haemolymph, rather, it had been miraculously purified. Despite the machine burning itself out, it had managed to completely harvest her DNA, as indicated by the green light weakly flickering from inside the glass.

“Incredible… it actually worked.” He breathed out.

“Are ya sure? I think it’s cooked itself.”

He tapped the glass, making a thoughtful sound. “The completion light is on.”

“Bugger the light, the bloody thing’s fucked.” He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge the greatness of his invention.

“I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“All I’m sayin’ is that we’re better off safe than sorry.”

“It sounds to me like you do not trust my judgement.” He snapped, shooting the boy a glare over his glasses, reminding him of his authority.

“That’s not what I meant, I was–” 

“Oh, so you want to talk back to me now, do you?”

“No, doc.”

“Of course not.” He whispered, his tone flipping to sickly, taunting sweetness in an instant. “Now that you have finished insulting my work, would you mind helping me with the injection?”

Mick took the syringe from him but hesitated, his fingers freezing in place. He refused to meet his eyes, instead looking at the miraculous liquid bubbling inside of the machine. “Look, doc, I don’t want to get in the way, but is this really a good idea? I mean, these things eat each other just for the fun of it. I don’t know if turnin’ into one is the brightest move.”

“Ah, I should have known that was the thing bothering you.” He sighed, steepling his hands. “You see, Mick, I could argue the same thing with mankind. Every one of us is capable of despicable acts, but for most, our unique ability to feel empathy and rigid laws – written or otherwise – keep us from tearing each other to pieces.” He made a crushing motion with his hands. “All that is to say I could easily kill and eat you right now if I so desired, I am certainly physically capable of doing so, but not on a psychological level. If this procedure goes to plan, my mind should remain perfectly preserved.”

“You’re sure?”

“Very. You will not have to worry about being eaten, I assure you.”

“Alright, that’s… that’s good enough for me.” He breathed out, finally readying the syringe. “Where do you want it?”

He shrugged off his coat and undid his tie before undoing the buttons of his collar, exposing his neck. “My neck, bitte.”

He breathed in deep, calming himself. “Pray I don’t stab an artery or anythin’.”

“Relax, it is no different to what you have done before.” He tilted his head to give the younger man better access to his veins. 

The silver eye of the needle inched closer until it nervously kissed his skin and sunk in slowly, injecting the liquid without any of the professionalism he had grown used to. A pained hiss escaped him and the bushman apologised feverishly, the sting worsening to a burn, as if his blood were boiling, melting him from the inside. The needle withdrew, and in mere moments, the pain passed into a faint, dull throb.

“What happens now?” Mick put the now empty, useless machine aside.

“We wait.” He replied, uttering the two words pleasantly despite how much he despised them – he would much prefer instantaneous results. “A celebratory drink would be an excellent way to pass the time, don’t you think?”

Next Chapter

[fasterthanmydemons]

I haven't read it myself but from what I've heard, the celestial madonna was an amazing storyline in the comics and it could get adapted into the mcu. but yeah, there were three potential celestial madonnas, wanda, agatha and mantis, and it was ultimately revealed that it was mantis. some stupid people think she's useless because she's shy and sweet but what the virgin mary is to us who have been raised christian here on earth, what she represents, etc... mantis is her equivalent in space. let her be powerfulllll!

and omg I don't blame you for choosing not to watch the gotg films :( I refused to give them a chance because the first movie opens up with a scene that is a bit triggering for me for personal reasons. I started crying so I turned it off and never watched anything from them, I met them through infinity war and endgame too. they had a cameo in thor love and thunder I think, but I refused to watch THEIR films. UNTIL I was told that there's a florence + the machine song in their third movie. I LOVE florence + the machine so one day I mentally prepared myself, watched the first two, watched the holiday special, and the next day I watched the third one (it's already on disney+) and HOLY SHIT they are now some of my favorite characters. I never laughed, cried or smiled this much watching a movie. I never cried WHILE smiling with a movie! they are insanely good (in my opinion). pushing past my triggers was hard but also so worth it. jesus christ in two days I fell in love with these characters and cried because I loved them that much haha. 😢🥰

funnily enough, I have a friend who loved the gotg ever since their first movie came out in 2014, but I could never get my friend to listen to florence + the machine. after listening to her song in the third movie, they became a huge fan of her music! gotg is what got them into her music and her music is what got me into the gotg, HAHAHAH 😂

treat your mental health as a priority tho. hopefully you enjoyed this little anecdote. I love your writing, your pietro is great, and I absolutely love the sotg verse. it's entertaining and I ship silvermantis a little even though it's not gonna happen like you said, lmao. doesn't matter, pietro is always good and the gotg are always good. with or without shipping it's just an excellent combo! 💙🛸

{out of breath} Ohhh okay. Thank you for explaining a little because I really knew nothing about this at all. Isn't it always the characters we least expect, or the smallest, or the "weakest," or the most unassuming, or something that we then find out... oh, they're gods or some other kind of overpowered being? XD I'll put the rest under a cut because I discuss some triggering topics some people might not want to read about...

As for your anecdote... that's actually really funny, heh. You and your friend went through complete opposite processes haha. And how good is Florence + the Machine, seriously? Florence Welch has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard. I try to belt out her songs sometimes and it's a lot of fun but... I'm nowhere near as good or as loud as she is. XD

Yes. Yes. That's actually exactly what I'm talking about. I did try to watch the GotG movies a while back without knowing anything about them, and it was shortly after my mother died of metastasized breast cancer that had gone to her brain, after me and my dad took care of her ourselves at home in hospice for five weeks. She was the person I was closest to in the world and I could absolutely not imagine my life without her, but beyond that... watching someone deteriorate mentally and physically before your eyes when they mean so much to you is just about the roughest thing you can go through in life in my opinion. It was the most traumatic thing I've ever gone through and I still have nightmares about various aspects of it six years later.

Anyway... yes, so I tried to watch the first GotG movie... and boom, first opening scene is that. Well, not the same because it's movie glamorized cancer death, and anyone who has known someone who has died that way knows that it is nowhere near as elegant, poignantly touching, or aesthetically soft as they make it out to be in the movies. But even so, the portrayal had enough truth in it to trigger me quite a bit and I had to turn it off. I don't have a problem hearing about cancer, or writing about it, but when I see it in a movie, it hits a little too close to home. Especially because it was Quill's mother, too, so that was just too close for me. It's so strange to me that I can watch the most graphic and frightening hardcore horror movies without any problems whatsoever, but one little scene like that? Messes me up completely.

So that is definitely something I have to get past if I'm going to watch these movies. But then I've also heard that the last Thor movie also has similar things in it, and I've seen some gif sets that have made me a little afraid to watch it. I thought I was in a good place to get through things like that, and then now my aunt has cancer and my grandmother moved back in with us and life has gotten pretty stressful, sad, and aggravating. So now I'm in this terrible place mentally, and that's not conducive to pushing my limits and trying to tackle hard-to-watch scenes.

Incidentally, I know several of you have sent in asks or starters that... I haven't touched. For a while. I'm really sorry about that, but some of them deal with topics that I just haven't had it in me to write, like various mental and physical health issues for example. Like I said, lately things haven't been great for me and my family and my writing is really suffering for it. I hope you understand that me not answering things doesn't mean I'm ignoring you specifically, it just means I don't have enough time to write or that I'm having trouble with certain topics.

[anxious-changeling]

GN Witch!Reader x Familiar!Crusaders (-Joseph)

We hope you enjoy this!!! We put a lot of love into it!

Avdol

His animal form is a Partridge Rock Chicken!

The only traits he carries from his animal form is small feathers dusting his cheekbones!

You met him while you were walking around Cairo and just happened to feel a pull towards a curtained area.

Following the pull you found yourself in front of a fortune tellers booth, a beautiful man seated behind a table.

With a kind smile he welcomed you to sit and have your fortune read, you could almost feel the electricity crackle in the air.

When he grabbed your hand it felt like lightning had struck you. You knew what he was and he knew what you were. A witch and an unbound familiar staring into one another eyes.

Still he amused you with a palm reading reading of coming good fortune and a lifetime of happiness. With a hint of mischief coloring his voice while saying the latter.

You proposed him the idea of him becoming your familiar to which he agreed after some bargaining. Such as what days he would be employed and what he could and couldn’t do!

He told you of his previous witch, a cruel woman named Enyaba, who would clip his wings so he couldn’t fly. A sad fate for such a beautiful bird.

In his chicken form he’s very cuddly and makes adorable cooing noises when you pet him.

He looks so cute when he falls asleep on your lap as you read from a grimoire you recently bought. Burrowing deeper into your warmth subconsciously as you idly fun your hand over his feathers.

He’s the perfect familiar and the perfect partner, attentive to your every need and attuned to your aura!

He’ll be your loving guardian against any spirits that may try to target you! Beings with malicious intent don’t stand a chance against him!

He specializes in fire magic and reading the auras of the world! Making him perfect for monitoring potions that are volatile!

He likes to show you all the little designs he can make with his fire magic. He loves even more the look of your face illuminated by his flames~

Has a fire elemental he calls Magicians Red that likes to follow him around! Going as far to take orders from him.

Once Magicians Red grows to like you it’ll lean down to let you sift your fingers through it soft head feathers!

Fully expect MR to join you and Avdol to cuddle! Personal furnace right there! Great in winter, intolerable in summer.

Polnareff

His animal form is a Stoat!

Carries his ears and tail from his animal form into his human form! When his hair is down it’s easier to see his ears since they aren’t covered up!

You met Polnareff while sitting in a local cafe, where he had approached you boldly to flirt. When he grabbed your hand to plant a kiss on the back, spark flew.

You could only stare in shock at one another before he grinned largely in joy! An unbound familiar finding a witch, what a lucky day!

You sat in the cafe for hours learning about one another, and eventually you extended the offer for him to become your familiar!

He accepted enthusiastically and thus you set off on your adventures!

He had a previous witch who he was bound to, known as Mariah, but she passed leaving him unbound for a long time.

He’s just as playful in his animal form as he is in human form, and enjoys rough housing with you! He likes to be tossed in the air and caught!

Likes pull pranks by hiding under furniture and farting out to nip at your ankles as you pass!

He enjoys being in contact with you someway, whether it be an arm over your shoulder or his head in your lap.

If you’ve been over working yourself on a potion he’ll whine loudly demanding your attention. He wants your attention but also knows you need a break.

He specializes in earth magic and spell casting! He is a vital help during long spell casting sessions as he helps balance you.

He’s a very affectionate and kind partner making sure to never overstep your boundaries!

Beware anything that sets its eyes upon you with malicious intent because he’ll make sure to tear them asunder.

Has a metal Gollum named Silver Chariot bound to him and it follows him everywhere, silently like a shadow.

Chariots emotions compared to humans is very muted, but if he feels affection for you he will hold onto you.

Chariot shows his affection through gifts and will often present you with flowers he’s found!

You make his bonded one happy which makes him happy! It also helps you’re kinda to him and give him gifts too! He cherishes every treasure you’ve gifted him!

Jotaro

His animal form is a Moray Eel! He’s also quite large for his species coming in at 6 feet long!

The traits he carries from his animal form are that his teeth are sharper than normal!

You met Jotaro while lazing in a secluded cove soaking in the sun. Charging a few crystals for an upcoming major spell.

You barely heard him enter but you did feel when he passed your rune barrier.

You had expected to see maybe a minor demon or a pixie, but not a hulking man who’s cold glare pierced you.

You both exchanged words as the adrenaline wore out, and you just waved him off so you could enjoy the sun without him.

He scoffed shouldering you as he walked past, electricity ran through you both. Like a live wire had hit your skin.

To be an unbound familiar this close to a witch could be dangerous when caught off guard in a secluded area.

So when Jotaro whirled around to bare his teeth at you, he was surprised to find you moving to sit back down. Didn’t you want to enslave him to you?

After a few hours of coexisting on the beach you break the ice asking questions. Sometimes he’d grunt in response or answer in rambling sentences. What an enigmatic creature.

You learned that his last witch had been a hideous woman named Midler. He had been wandering unbound for many years, ignoring every witch who begged to become bound to him.

Humming you told him that your homes open to him and left your address on the sands as you left for home. Faintly feeling blue eyes drilling into your retreating form.

Weeks later as you sat slouched over a grimoire taking notes, you heard someone pounding on your door.

When you answered the door you found yourself face to face with none other than Jotaro.

After sitting him down and going through the motions of being a host you began to talk.

He laid out his demands, days he could and couldn’t fulfill his duties, and his boundaries. You beamed at him while signing the contract agreeing to your partnership, kick starting a wonderful future!

It took a bit for mutual comfort to happen but in the end it’s well worth the wait!

Jotaro compliments your spellcasting style and is an excellent potion making assistant! Both of you taking your craft very seriously.

When your relationship takes a slow turn to partnership neither of you are surprised!

Jotaro isn’t much for outward displays but he does like to show his appreciation through gifts. He’ll drop a new griomoire he acquired in you lap saying it was an “accidental buy”.

If you’re sick he’ll call up his mother to get her soup recipes. He’ll complain as he does but you know he really doesn’t mind it.

He specializes in water magic and energy manipulation making it easier for him to control volatile spells! He’s also very proficient in drawing spell circles with near perfect precision!

Has a minor water deity named Star Platinum that always follows him around much to his annoyance.

While Jotaro isn’t affectionate Star very much is and makes up for Jotaro in that aspect!

Star will twirl you around gleefully and enjoys hanging off of you as you read or spell cast!

Both Jotaro and Star would tear apart the world with their bare hands to ensure your safety.

Kakyoin

His animal form is a Orchid Mantis!

He doesn’t retain any traits of his animal form in human form except for some pink dusted here and there!

You first met Kakyoin at your local library as you scoured the shelves for your favorite book.

As you went to grab the book a slender hand grabbed it first. Silently huffing you turned to swear at the thief but found yourself face to face with an interesting man.

He already started to walk away but you felt something pulling at your gut to stop him.

As you grabbed his wrist you felt electricity hum through you and his pupils expanded in surprise.

He tugged his hand out of your grasp and took long strides to the check out and out the door.

Well that’s one way to make an impression on a witch. You by instinct wanted to race after him but your gut anchored your feet as you watched him flee.

You didn’t run into him for many months, a careful unbound familiar who had no doubt been mistreated in the past.

You didn’t actively seek him out but it seemed that fate put its back into dragging you two together.

You found the strange man at your door one morning bloody and bruised badly. Hauling his lanky form onto your couch you got to work fixing him up.

Spell after spell you cast and even eased mild healing potions down his throat. Now all left to do was wait, so that’s what you did.

Curled up on your armchair with the newest grimoire to your collect you began reading. It took him a few hours but finally he began to stir.

He looked defensive as his purple eyes scanned your living room. Eyeing you warily as you slowly stretched from your arm chair.

As you explained what had happened and how you treated him the calmer he became. He also explained he just came to the closest house after he was attacked. A low level demon having gotten the jump on him as he slept.

You happily welcomed him to stay in your heavily warded home, which is near impossible to break into. He hesitantly took your offer and so began your journey with your new roommate!

It took months of tip toeing around one another before he finally approached you with a deal. Very clearly and sternly laying out his boundaries and expectations.

You gladly welcome his into the bond, celebrating by making a nice meal! After many years you finally had a familiar!

He helps a lot to cover the areas you lack in and help mishaps before they happen! If one side of the spell isn’t reinforced he’s there working on it! Making sure it won’t backfire in your face!

In his mantis form Kakyoin is content in just punching on you as you go about doing what you need to! He doesn’t enjoy touch as much as others but enjoys your warmth!

Enjoys looking at the outside world from his smaller perspective, behind glass and wards of course can’t have a bird snatching him!

It takes a while for Kakyoin to allow himself to court you and at first he’s very cautious. Aware of your ever movement, but as he get more comfortable he opens up more!

He enjoys holding hands with you and resting his head in your lap as you read or watch tv.

Enjoys baking for you because he’s a horrible cook. He enjoys making a great variety of desserts and you are his personal taste tester!

If you become sick he’ll show how he can make a mean chicken noodle soup from scratch. The only dish he can’t mess up when cooking!

Is a helicopter partner when you’re sick, worried if he takes his eyes off of you he’ll miss something!

He specializes in air magic and has a keen eye for plant identification! Making him useful very useful when you go foraging!

Has a bonded nature spirit named Hierophant Green that follows him wherever he goes. They’re very attached to one another.

Hierophant will be very wary of you for a long time, but as he sees that you treat Kakyoin well it’ll win his favor.

Once Hierophant becomes attached there’s letting go, he’ll follow you everywhere demanding pets.

He lets off a strangely high pitched purr when you pet him and wraps around you protectively at home.

Hierophant and Kakyoin would sacrifice the whole universe to make sure you stay safe.

Holy shit that’s.. long. We hope you enjoyed and we bid you a good morning/afternoon/evening! A lot of love went into this piece :D