#this au lives RENT FREE in my brain right now

[willowbird]

for the fic prompt any trans Andrew thoughts? Or trans Neil or trans andreil lol dealers choice

DID SOMEONE SAY TRANSDREIL!?

But I would like to raise you... trans!Kevin. Because it has been STUCK in my HEAD for MONTHS now.

---

The knock on the door was heavy but sluggish - more of a crash or a thump than a knock at all. At first, David thought that it was some dumb kid being a jackass (even 5 star hotels had shitty guests), but then it came again. And again. And again.

Then, as David sighed and begrudgingly rolled off his bed to go to the door, he heard a thin, rough voice call through it: "Please... I don't know where else to go..."

David picked up his pace. He did not know what he expected when he jerked the door open, but the teenager standing there was not it - especially not in the state that they were in.

"What the actual fuck, Kaitlyn?

Kaitlyn Day, daughter of world-famous violinist Kayleigh Day and then adopted by Kayleigh's close friend Tetsuji Moriyama in the wake of her mother's death. David had known her for most of her life, albeit from a distance. He had been close with Kayleigh when they'd been younger, and although they'd had something of a falling out shortly before she became pregnant with Kaitlyn they had stayed in touch enough for him to have developed at relationship of sorts with her daughter.

Kaitlyn flinched away from him, actually stumbling backwards quickly enough that her shoulders hit the opposite wall.

"Shit," David cursed, stopping himself from rushing forward. Instead he lifted his hands in a steady, placating gesture and lowered his voice. "Fuck. I'm sorry kid. Don't worry I'm louder than I am mean, you know that. Come on." He stepped back into the room and held the door open for her, doing his best not to stare at the shadows under her eyes or the blood at the corner of her mouth, the bruises starting to form. David Wymack had seen his fair share bruised and battered kids, though, so maybe that was why it was almost more off-putting that, in addition to the physical trauma clearly on display, from the way she held herself to the blood and the bruises, her hair had been chopped off. It hung in uneven chunks around her face, and as she passed by him into the room David saw that there were some patches that had been so close to her scalp the blades had nicked the skin.

Swallowing his questions for the moment, David glanced quickly down the hall -- one way and then the other -- before shutting and locking the door. When he turned back around, Kaitlyn was standing clear on the opposite side of the room, hugging herself and chewing her thumbnail down to the quick.

David gave himself another twenty seconds to get his shit together, then he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Kaitlyn, what the fuck happened?"

Even though his voice was calmer now, steady, she still flinched. David grit his teeth against the bubbling of anger that churned in the center of his body -- a vat of blistering, protective rage that was getting closer and closer to boiling over every time she shirked away from him. Perhaps he did not know Kaitlyn as well as he might have if he and Kayleigh had been better to each other, if they hadn't fallen out in the way that they had, but he didn't have to be in the girl's inner circle to know that this... this timid thing before him was not her.

Kaitlyn Day was a fucking thunderstorm in human form. As captivating as she was terrifying, she was a musical prodigy that had been performing in huge, prestigious venues since she was three years old, first on the piano, then on violin, then flute, before stunning the world yet again when she opened her mouth and started to sing. International cross-genre acclaim was achieved when she was only fifteen, after she and her adoptive brother Riko diverted from classical music in a bold move to form a pop band.

She was an idol, with adoring fans on every continent.

She was also, David was remembering very suddenly and with a sharpness that hurt, an eighteen year old kid. She was a wildfire, but she was not invulnerable, and someone had hurt her.

"Kaitlyn," he said again, and he lowered his voice even further. He made himself as small as he could, sinking down to sit on the coffee table that filled out the small sitting area of the hotel suite.

Again, Kaitlyn's shoulders hitched up and her face turned, her brown condensing into a sharp v of discontent. When David opened his mouth to speak again, though, to plea with her to tell him what the fuck was going on and to demand she point him in the direction of the sorry fuck who touched her, her eyes snapped up to his and he finally saw that it wasn't only fear, it wasn't only pain. Burning right beside whatever trauma she was wrestling with was a bright, effervescent rage.

He snapped his mouth shut.

"No," Kaitlyn said. Her voice was rough, raspy. She cleared her throat and held his gaze as she said more clearly, putting in visible effort to keep herself steady to lift up her chin when her instincts were still begging her to duck it.

"No," she said again. "Not... Not Kaitlyn."

David frowned, confused. "What?"

Then she said, "Kevin."

Still not understanding, David shook his head. "Kaitlyn, what? Who is Kevin?" A thought struck him and he had to curl his hands into fists on top of his thighs to keep from standing. "Is he who did this? Point me in his direction, Kaitlyn, and I swear I--"

"No!" This time, her voice cracked, and there was a desperation in her tone that had David pulling back. Her eyes were wide, every muscle in her body taut. She swallowed thickly around the words he could see her trying to say. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, then she grit her teeth and growled, "No. Me. I'm not Kaitlyn. I am Kevin. Kevin."

Tears, a phenomenon that David had never before witnessed with Kaitlyn and had only ever seen once from her mother, welled suddenly in the girls eyes. Her face was flushed, tinged pink around the hurts. With her hair a chopped mess and her eye visibly beginning to well, the tears added a raw sort of wildness that was so far apart from the rigid control Kaitlyn usually adhered to with zealous enthusiasm that he fleetingly wondered if he was instead talking to a different girl entirely. A long-lost twin.

He shook his head, or at least he went to -- but he aborted the gesture mid-motion as the inkling of understanding tugged at him. He studied her, letting her words turn the lights on one at a time until the pieces finished falling into place.

Then he said, "Kevin." A question, a confirmation.

Jade fire eyes held his own and there was so much weight in that single stare.

After a long, tense moment where David didn't think either of them so much as breathed, the bearer of those eyes gave a single slow nod.

David took in a slow breath and nodded as well. "Alright. Okay. That's... good. Kevin." Slowly, so Kevin didn't think David's motive was violence, David pushed himself to his feet and approached. He lifted one hand and reached out. When the kid didn't flinch away, David rested it on his shoulder.

"Kevin," David said again, and because he was still holding the boy's gaze he saw the moment when Kevin's resolve shattered. The tears he had been battling back broke the dam. His shoulders slumped. His knees trembled. When he stumbled, David was there to catch him and he pulled him easily into his arms. He didn't pretend not to hear the sobs that came next, absorbed by his chest the same way the tears made their new home in the fabric of his shirt.

No, instead he wrapped his arms around him, around Kevin. He rested one hand on the back of his neck and squeezed gently and he said, "Hey, it's alright. I've got you, son. It's alright. I've got you. I'm here."

[secret-origins-crossover]

SECRET QUARTET UPDATES

I was waiting impatiently for the poll to finish and dare I say, I have never been more excited for the next part- especially because this is set after the first installation. Now, one thing I'm sure all of you are curious about: can ghosts be stanked?

Much like what I said about Akumas, no- this simply isn't possible for, well, a few reasons but that will come later, so you'll just have to wait! (as for halfas, the answer to that question is also being left ambiguous-)

This does mean that whatever happens in the next part won’t be involving ghosts being affected by the Sorcerer’s magic- now whether ghosts exist inside Norrisville, well, we’ll just have to see won’t we? I do like to think ghosts aren't a common phenomenon everywhere because of other reasons

For now, these are my current forming ideas. Either Danny ends up in Norrisville somehow (which would be partially dependent on the timeline-), or Randy is sent to Amity Park as a result of... other reasons. This is a bare minimum draft to say the least and I have some stuff that will be included immediately and the rest will be added in as the series continues!

I will say that Danny’s going to be having a time if he’s the one to arrive in Norrisville. Poor Danny gets to go through the burner during a lot of this- he is one of the protagonists after all hahaha

Though I decided to use this time to explain some of the lore and information about this AU people are still interested in (which I’m admittedly surprised about-), so without much further ado- let's get right to the point!

Also, one last thing before I start: this takes place before the season two finale of RC9GN for what I feel is kind of obvious, but moving on-

Lore Dumping + Headcanons

Something that was canonized in the first installation: not all heroes are aware of another- due to certain restrictions and, well, some magic of the universe... a lot of the organizations basically were sanctioned off to specific locations as a way of maintaining the peace. What this means is that clashing will go down at first- perhaps not between the main heroes but say, a certain council with other groups but we'll get to that later

Norrisville does not have a high concentration of ghostly energy since there isn't a portal (natural portals are an entirely different story; i'm more referring about something like what's at fenton works-). This didn't really need to be said but just in case! I'm shoving it into the lore dump anyway

Randy faces a lot of pressure just for being the Ninja but without the added knowledge of other heroes- he's genuinely living the best life and having fun while still being the protector, though we all know this won't last. I also will say this is going to explore the whole thing with the tengu but I'm not sure how much just yet-

Could someone else be shloomped inside the Nomicon? Hahaha, you'll find out later- I thought about saying it, but decided to hold myself back for now. I will say this: the Nomicon is still a sentient being and, well, who is able to go inside it (since technically, in one of the episodes, Howard did but I'm not sure how far into the RC9GN 'canon' it's set in-) has some rules to it

Danny and Randy are obviously different in terms of personality- having them work together is going to come with its challenges, but I do think they'd have a good partnership going. They just have to get comfortable with one another

I'm trying to keep myself from saying things about future installations lol, but- I will say that so far, Vlad has zero connections to Norrisville. This one-shot is going to be a little different and that's all I'm going to say for the time being

If anyone's curious about the difference in strength between Danny and Randy- well, their methods of combat are different so, do with this what you will for now :)

As of right now, there are no confirmed ships within the series! To be honest, I don't fully see it as important but it may show- just... not right this second

So far, this is all I got! It's getting a little late and I am honestly really tired which means posting will have to wait until later, but do expect more content soon! I am very excited for the continuation of this project to say the least!

Goodnight, my lovely readers!

[brediest-littleguy]

Jed’s holding a little harmonica (song references is All I want is you)

(Credit to @night-at-the-musian for showing me the song )

Jedediah is the Wild West he’s never seen anything below the neck before

Octo stop stealing his bandana smh

Also hehehe Toga Boy riding so many critters (save a horse ride a cowboy amirite?)

Also close up of the coloured doodle

So silly, much fun to draw

[peachesofteal]

That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.

Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:

The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.

268: 38.5 degrees.

Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.

You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.

"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.

His brow furrows above the black mask.

"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.

"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.

"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.

"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."

"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.

"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.

"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.

"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.

"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.

"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."

"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.

“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.

Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.

[hanafubukki]

I'm back with another Lilia thought! This one isn't mafia au though, so you can wait with reading it so it won't spoil the immersion lol ( I'm so glad you liked it btw 😭)

This one is about you being Lilia's fae s/o. When he went to NRC with the boys he gave you a cell phone to stay in touch with him with. You use it to play games together and communicate (I think it'd be mostly texting as to simulate writing letters to your loved one who's away), but something he'll never tell anybody about are the more private messages you share. Because he's an old man, sensing lustful messages with Lilia is like writing prose. Taking turns to write and seeing the messages show up in real time...there's just something about this old man and language when it comes to intimate times. He'll save the conversations to re-read whenever he's needy. There's not much video/photo sharing (again, to fit with the whole writing letters thing), but it'd be fun I think if you discover the Twisted Wonderland version of Only Fans and jokingly tell Lilia that you wanna make an account and have him as your only subscriber. He actually loves the idea, of you being needy and the way he finds out is a ping notification that you've uploaded a new photo of yourself- for his eyes only. You'd want the account to be private since it's for personal use but I can see Lilia maybe being adventurous and being into teasing other men knowing they'll never have you. They can see a few clothed pictures but the number of people who can see it all never goes above 1.

-Fake Date Sebek Anon

[Talking about this fic]

Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonie 🌺🌷💞

That Lilia Mafia ask really just hit me suddenly and released all the core memories I had and I couldn’t not make it into a flower shop combination. Thank you Anonie, that AU lives in my brain rent free 💞💞

God can you imagine?? The text messages switches between Victorian flirting to modern flirting and sometimes the combination. Texting each other how much you missed the other so.

Telling him, how you miss his warmth and his touch. How your own imagination and hands can do so much. Even magical toys do not help. Gradually it shifts to this account you see humans use.

How innovative and advanced. Of course you bring it up to Lilia and he’s down. As long as it’s only him that can see it. He loves knowing no one can have you. You’re his.

He loves to show off your more casual pictures but he’s full of pride. No one else can see you, feel you, or touch you. No one else would know your taste.

Hm? What’s this? It’s as if you heard him. You sent him a new picture. He’s happy that fae’s have an abundance of magic. Silver, Sebek, and Malleus can look after each other for a few hours.

He’s going to teleport to you right now. The urge to feel and taste you too great. His hands itches to shred the clothes you have on and Lilia is not one to deny himself of his favorite treat. 💞🌺

[moonrisecoeur]

Nobody wants to talk about this so its down to us babe 😔 but can we think about SUGAR BABY LEON. Because im sick of all this 'sugar daddy this, sugar daddy that' what if we spoil the babygirl 🤨

if i’m so for real with u i’m literally a starbies barista i do not make the money to be a sugar mommy and i like men who give me stuff and buy me whatever i want BUT on the off chance leon ends up with a rich partner…

i also have some darker ideas for this if u want that kinda vibe too!! just let me know !!

no pronouns mentioned, reader is referred to as having a cock but straps count too 💥 , somno and free use mentioned

he does not know what to do with himself. like okay if we’re in a non apocalypse au and leon is just a cop, he’s making okay money, but he’s not living lavishly. and if we’re in the canon universe and leon is like a government agent, i still don’t think they’re paying him much beyond enough to cover basic living essentials. basically he’s getting by fine but not much more than that.

and then he meets someone, you. you have more money than you know what to do with, so what do you decide to do? you spend it all on the pretty boy you met at the coffee shop. you pay for his drinks, his pastries, and then it keeps going until you’re paying for his rent, utilities, you’re buying him new furniture since his is old and you’re taking him out to expensive dinners and wining and dining him, giving him fancy jewelry and designer clothes.

he doesn’t know what to do!! he feels like he has to repay you even if you insist he doesn’t, “leon, sweetheart. the point of me doing all of that was so you wouldn’t be paying it back. those were gifts, baby.”

“i- i know but… this can’t be right i- i can’t just take all of your money!”

“sweetie, you can have all of my money, i don’t care. i want to spend time with you,” you mumble as you press a kiss to his cheek.

he likes people who are just a little bit older, a little more intelligent, a little more confident than him. and you tick all of those boxes. you could have easily just asked him out, and started a normal relationship. he would have fallen for you anyway. but there’s something very down to earth about you thinking the only way you could spend time with him is by throwing your money at him. he doesn’t like the feeling of guilt that hangs on his heart.

but honestly? you’re completely satisfied, he has nothing to worry about. even with the allowance you give him (you have to secretly deposit it into his account otherwise he’ll feel guilty accepting it even if he needs it) you’ll still have more money than you know what to do with.

and also, every date night, you wine and dine him as usual at some fancy restaurant, you come home and fuck his brains out.

i’m talking like, he can’t think about anything but your cock for an extended period of time. you make him cum over and over until his body gives out and he goes unconscious. you take care of him, cleaning him up and cuddling him while you fall asleep, and when he wakes up, it’s morning and there’s breakfast waiting for him in the kitchen of your luxurious apartment.

after a while, you convince him to move in with you! rent is so expensive these days (you say like it even makes a dent in your net worth) and it would be more convenient if he just lived with you. it takes a lot of convincing, but he comes around. he’s a good roommate, he’s tidy and does all the chores (mostly again because he feels like he has to repay you somehow!)

and you buy him cute little gifts and bring them home for him to open after you get off work!! little things that remind you of him or things you remember him mentioning he wanted.

also, since he lives with you 24/7 now, it’s so much more convenient when you want to fuck him senseless. you don’t even have to ask him, just bend him over the kitchen counter while he’s making dinner. or fuck him when you get home from work and he fell asleep on the couch. that’ll wake him up!!

[betterfettered]

Bruh can I be honest and say your Yan! Leviathan kinda scares me because Levi already lives rent free in my head and I kinda don’t wanna know what would happen if he figured it out?

I’m literally not joking about leviathan straight up living inside my brain rent free, like he actively takes up a shit ton of my thoughts enough for me to get the Tetris effect when I sleep.

And idk why but something tells me that if he knew that I’m practically obsessed with him, I wouldn’t be touching grass or seeing anyone else ever again for my entire existence.

Hey anon!! I am sorry this took so long, it got really long (3k words!!) and kind of went in its own direction hahaha. I hope you like it!! It turns out that you were right, and no one will ever find you in his clutches LOLL Let me know what you think?

(AFAB!reader x AMAB!yandere)(Plus size reader💖🫡)(noncon)(stalking)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(sort of kind of an AU but not really?)[This is fetish content and rape and stalking are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Your reaction was strange to Leviathan because he'd imagined it over and over again in his head no less than a thousand times but had not been able to divine what you actually reacted like. In his mind when he'd intentionally spilled his drink on himself you'd make a little surprised noise or say "oh no!" or laugh, but in reality you just frowned, your eyebrows lifting in shock.

The important part, however, you still did: you turned to your bag, rifling through it for some napkins, and offered them to him like it was nothing, like making his heart jackrabbit to the point of nearly shattering was nothing. He snatched them quickly so that you wouldn’t see how his hands shook in anticipation.

Okay, next say thank you, he said to himself and tried his hardest but was unable to pry his lips open or make eye contact with you or even breathe. When the elevator reached the floor that the both of you lived on, he sprinted from the elevator to get to his door, spilling plenty more cherry slushy on himself in the process. He could barely get his hands steady enough to get the key into his door, but the second he was inside and had slammed the door behind him he tossed his soiled jacket and the half empty slushy to the ground and hurried into his bedroom, dropping on his knees in front of his shrine of you.

Well, it wasn’t a shrine just yet. It was too small – he had only the things he could salvage from your trash, like an empty lipstick tube, a plastic fork from some takeout, a debit card statement listing all of your purchases six months ago. This was the first thing you had ever given to him, though, the first gift with your scent and blessing on it. He shut his eyes and held the napkins up to his nose, inhaling deeply and summoning the image of you to his mind.

Leviathan focused on your eyes, thinking about how your gaze meeting his meant that you were not looking at anyone else and, he imagined, not thinking about anyone else. It didn’t take long for the memory to become a fantasy: he imagined you looking at him still, but now with your bottom lip caught between your teeth out of sheer lust for him. Reaching into his nightstand for lube, he imagined your outfit, which was the standard button down and pencil skirt combination that was something of a uniform for office workers. It was unremarkable but for the way it hugged the soft protrusions of fat on your body. He liked to imagine that your larger size made you unpopular on the dating market, so he would (in his fantasies and occasionally dreams, when he was lucky) be the first to touch and squeeze and lick you – he’d be the only one that you granted such access to, because he and only he was that special to you.

He placed the stack of napkins on his bed and pushed his face down into them to free both hands to undo his belt and slather his cock with lube. Even just touching his shaft made him shiver and clench his jaw, but he didn’t start pumping just yet because his fantasy was still incomplete. First, he needed you to turn to him in his mind, walking towards him until you had sandwiched him up against the wall, every plump part of you pressing up against him like a full bodied hug. Then, when he nearly collapsed with desire both in reality and in his mind, you reached a hand down to his pants, running your hand back and forth over his cock and looking up at him and only him. Only then did he begin stroking, murmuring your name to himself and clutching his bed. It was only a minute or two before he reached his peak and came so hard into his other hand that he became incoherent, his own moans shoving your name out of his mouth to take its place.

Once he caught his breath and the immense pleasure receded, he was filled with a longing that made his eyes begin to tear, his mouth pressing together as he tried to hold himself together. He needed you. At this point, his fantasies were almost as torturous as they were alluring. Just imagining was not enough and never could be, because while he was here with you, you were off thinking about or talking to someone else. He needed the entirety of you and he needed to show you with his body just how much he worshipped you, the same way he did in his mind every night before sleeping.

His hands were slick with cum and lube, so he shut his eyes for a moment once more and rubbed two fingers into the other palm, imagining that it was your tummy covered in his cum instead, but could only tolerate the fantasy for a few seconds before climbing to his feet to go clean up both himself and the mess he’d made in the entryway. He spent the rest of the night hugging a pillow on his couch and watching the old Ruri-chan OVAs from his favorite season and trying to hold back the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes.

Leviathan did not see you again for another week – perhaps you had been working early or late. When you once again met in front of the elevator, he felt downright giddy and reflexively covered his face with the back of his hand, but the glee turned to pure shock when you turned to him and said “Oh, happy birthday, Levi!”

What he did not know was that the day before, a pair of gentlemen (one ginger, one with hair graying only at the tips) had mistakenly knocked on your door. The shorter one pointed and released a party popper right at your face, and the taller one held out a cake that had bites taken directly out of it. Surprise! They had said, and then the three of you were surprised indeed, because you were not who they were expecting and you had not been expecting anything but still could never have imagined this would happen. They asked for a Leviathan, you pointed them next door, and the one with the frosting on his face apologized around another bite he had taken right out of the cake. The other apologized, too, but distractedly, as he was preoccupied with sadness that he had wasted his only party popper on you instead of his brother.

No, Leviathan was not aware of any of that, because Beelzebub couldn’t control himself around the cake and Belphegor wanted a new party popper, so they gave up and planned to come back tomorrow, the actual day of, without saying a word to him. If Leviathan could have spoken in that moment, he would have asked you how you knew, but he could not, so instead he stared at the ground and tried to figure out how you knew. He didn’t generally think of himself as disposed to illogical thinking, so when it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, you had been just as taken with him as he was with you, he figured it was the most obvious conclusion.

He imagined that you had gone home after giving him the napkin and touched yourself, too.

Maybe you also had a shrine for him in your home, and one of the things in it told you when he was born.

“Have I said something wrong…?” you asked, eyeing his stunned expression.

It was all he could do to shake his head, because you had actually said the best possible thing that you could have. Was he dreaming?

When the elevator arrived to the right floor, he allowed you to get off first and then trailed behind you, not even noticing the antlers starting to sprout out of his head and the scales started to spread across his skin. It was as though he was mesmerized by you and couldn’t do anything but follow.

You got to your door, opened it, and then cried out when you felt his full weight against your back, pinning you to the ground. His tailed whipped out and slammed the door shut behind the two of you, and he pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling and shivering a little, feeling his common sense melting away to be replaced with only intoxicating lust.

“What are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice wavering with fear. “Get off of me right now!”

He didn’t reply, only focusing on how the way you were struggling was rubbing your ass up against his cock and making him pant. Was it really possible that you were here beneath him, all his for the rest of your lives together? Distantly he wondered why you were struggling if you were obsessed with him, but brushed it away as not important.

“Please, just get off of me and leave,” you said, your voice becoming thick with the tears starting to pour down your face.

He got to his knees, putting one hand on your shoulder and one beneath your tummy, pulling both upwards to flip you onto your back. You only resisted for a few seconds before allowing him to turn you over onto your back, your shimmering wet eyes meeting his crazed ones and drawing another sob out of you. This did not seem to stop him, as he almost immediately rested back on top of you and pressed his lips to yours, jamming his long tongue into your mouth before you had a chance to clench your jaw. You gagged a little at the length of it, long enough to reach the back of your tongue, and tried to push him off of you, which he merely ignored until you stopped.

He only pulled away and sat up when he noticed your elbow working against your side, at which point he wanted to observe what you were doing with your hand. You were holding your cell phone and trying to type something into it, but as soon as you saw him notice it you pulled it closer to your face, typing as quickly as possible. He felt his heart sink: even though you were in love with him, you were thinking of someone else while he was kissing you. Despair settled over him until it gave way to a sort of panicked jealousy: would you ever unlearn this? Could he trust you to commit to only him? You were going to be his first (and already had been his first kiss)…was he really ready for this? This would be your first fight with each other as a couple.

While he was thinking, he snatched the phone from you and crushed it in his hand, tossing the broken bits aside and pouting.

“Who were you going to call?”

“N-no one.”

“O-okay, well then! Who were you g-gonna text?!” he asked, being able to hear how pathetic he sounded himself.

Try to sound like Lucifer! He told himself, and sat up a little straighter. You can do this, you can do this.

“Th-that…was cheating,” he said, and then tried making his voice a little deeper. “Don’t think of any one else. Ever again….uh, d-do I make m-myself c-clear?”

Complete fail, uggghhhh

It took a moment for you to calm yourself enough to speak.

“Please just let me go,” you repeated around sobs. “I won’t call the police or anything. I won’t even mention it to my friends. Just…please don’t....”

He climbed to his feet at that, though he didn’t leave you even a moment to think your pleas had worked on him before he wrapped you up in his tail, lifting you off of the ground and above his head. You cried out and struggled, kicking him with your feet a few times until he held you further away, but he paid no mind and instead locked and deadbolted the door behind the two of you, then walked deeper into your apartment, checking all of the doors in his path until he found your bedroom. He wanted to pause to look around and examine every last bit of you that the room contained, but he was so hard that it was starting to hurt, so he darted over to your bed and slammed you down onto your back, unwrapping his tail so he could sit down, push your legs up and put them on either side of his waist.

Unfortunately, you still had not learned your lesson about struggling, so he clamped his tail down on your neck to hold you still, tightening it when you started to move around too much, and grabbed both of your wrists to hold them beside your head where the end of his tail could wrap around them, too.

You were talking, or maybe just crying, but he couldn’t focus on that. His attention was completely absorbed by his cock pressing into the heat of your core and your writhing body.

He reached out with shaking hands and undid the buttons of your shirt, taking a while not because he was savoring it but rather because he was trying to undo them too impatiently with his uncoordinated fingers and not being that successful to the point that he ripped the last few buttons open in his haste. His hands pressed down into your plush stomach and then, after a moment of enjoying your inviting softness, he ran them upwards until he held your tits in both hands, squeezing them in a circular motion the way he had seen in a few hentai movies and then pushing his fingers into your bra to touch your bare skin and catch your nipples between his fingers, pinching them until you gave a short whimper that made his cock twitch. He slid his hands out and yanked the bra down to reveal them, then leaned down into your chest and shoved his face right in the center of it, squishing your tits against either side of his head while his hips started to buck against yours, greedily craving the friction between you. His face felt so hot at this point, and yet was no match for the warmth of lying there against your heart.

While he’d had plans to lick and suck your tits and maybe bite them a little to see if he could get you to make noise again, he didn’t think he could wait any longer to penetrate you, he sat up and shoved your skirt upwards around your waist until he could reach your panties, then pushed your legs together in front of him with his arms so he could pull them off of you (and stash them in his pocket). He felt so relieved that he’d only worn joggers today and didn’t need to bother with a belt or a zipper, so there was only a second between your panties being removed and the head of his cock pressed right into the folds of your pussy.

“Don’t! I’m begging, please don’t!” you wailed.

“But y-you’re wet,” he observed, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to spread your juices.

You didn’t reply fast enough; he lost patience and shoved into you with a desperate whine. It felt even better than he had imagined day after day all of this time, so he didn’t move at first to try and avoid cumming immediately. Instead, he reached for your hands, freeing them from his tail so he could weave his fingers into yours and press them into your sheets on either side of your head.

“L-look at me,” he panted, tightening his tail around your neck when you didn’t obey. “I s-said to look at me.”

It took a few seconds for you to run out of air and begin struggling to breathe, but you did eventually look at him, instantly making his heart pound. Suddenly, he felt unbearably shy, so he buried his face in your neck as he started to fuck you, slowly but insistently, his pelvis grinding up against yours like he couldn’t get deep enough inside of you, his moans muffled beside your face. Feeling your breasts jolt against him with each thrust he couldn’t help but start to fuck you a little harder, too, just to feel them bouncing beneath him.

He didn’t think to tell you when he was about to cum, since his mind was completely whiting out from the pleasure and his moans sounded frantic and irregular because he couldn’t quite control the sounds he was making, so you only knew that he was filling you when he stopped suddenly, releasing your hands to grab your hips hard enough to hurt and pull you as close into him as possible. His entire body shook against yours for a while. Once he relaxed, still panting but not digging his fingers into your flesh as hard any more, his entire frame draped over yours with exhaustion.

Ten minutes later, he finally sat up to address you, lovingly stroking your hair and cheek.

"That was so much better than in my head. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life.

“Um, I don’t think you finished, right? S-sorry, I’m…anyway, I’ll read a little more about how to satisfy you on reddit! Then I’ll show you what I learned. We have a lot of time for me to practice until I get it right. I'll definitely make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Just let me go,” you murmured, out of tears.

“I never will,” he answered, his voice so resolute that it grew steady even if for only a moment as he promised that. “I’m in l-love with you, a-and you’re going to love me. And only me, no one else. If you think of anyone else, I’ll…I’ll hurt them. And you, too.”

Perhaps you weren’t out of tears after all, as the words made you start to cry again.

This time, he pulled you upwards and wrapped you in his arms while still inside you, grateful for the opportunity to feel as though he was taking care of you. His mind was already starting to wander to plans of where you both would live, how he could punish you to make sure you never spoke to any one else again, and what he would tell his brothers and closest gaming buddies about the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Dreams really did come true. The two of you only had happily ever after in store for you.

[tiyoin]

Tiyoin the voices got to me again. I was scrolling tho tik tok and came across a video ,and it reminded me that you mentioned reader doing a sport before attending twst in the singing au. Wanna give a guess what sport I saw??

It was ✨figure skating✨. Just imagine it for a sec. Do I know anything about skating?? No. But the idea of anxiety reader being one is beautiful. Especially since skating isnt a confrontation sports like soccer and, reader doesn't have to be in contact with someone while performing their act.

I see reader starting the sport when they were young. They may have seen it as a way to put themselves out there while doing something they enjoy and find relaxing. They didn't compete in big contests with thousands of people watching (girlie would not make it). They would only get to county or district level of the contest B4 the nerves got to them. Most likely self sabotages at the end so they wouldn't have to seen and judged by so many. Reader does has a few gold medals tho. Yuu has been their personal cheerleader for a few years now. Going to as many contests as he can to just support reader and know they're not alone.

✨Now✨

What if there is a different competition (w/o a overblot hopefully) which a sport is picked randomly. Whether you want it to be a school vs school, dorm vs dorm or maybe grade vs grade you can decide. I think it could work with any of them. Like they pick a few people to represent their side and to complete. The ones that physically compete get prizes (💰) and the others get bragging rights and a 🍕 pizza party or smth like that idk.

Anyways, Yuu is like *puppy eyes* pls reader 👉👈we poor. And reader knows Yuu is only asking cuz they they really need the money and he would never make them do smth that would harm them. Yuus real motive is maybe this will help reader make friends or less be less anxious around their classmates. And he knows Reader is gonna win cuz none of the others skate.

The only ones in NRC that I can see being able to skate to a degree is Rook, Jade or Ortho maybe Epel too. He probably hated it till his grandma said only strong people could skate cuz it's hard. I think his home town is gets snow right? Can't recall rn.

Depending on which VS is picked the outfit and preforment is gonna be a easy choice or the hardest thing in the whole contest. Maybe a duet gets thrown in there. ➖👄👁️

Overall reader is ✨stressed✨ rightfully so. The creeps are recording, admirers admirering, rivals showing up left and right. Reader gonna need a nap after everything that's happened.

Another 3-5 am ask woooo. Sorry if there is any spelling errors. Why do the best ideas always come when I'm tired 😩. I can send u a tik tok I saw that inspired me if u want. Also I don't mean to mention Rook in every ask he just shows up w/o asking. Like my fav is Malleus and I haven't send a single idea with him.

Maybe it's cuz Rooks a Sagittarius and I'm a Gemini. They are sister signs. That's probably why he lives in my head rent free. I hope a good night.

MEL- I NEED TO KISS YOU BRAIN RIGHT NOW!!

especially with the death of YOI: adolescence... a sad day for anime lovers' everywhere (im on desktop so i can't do any emojis </3)

I actually had a really big skating phase. still do and would love to have prof. lessons. i wanted to do it so. badly. my parents said 'no' and that it was too late for me, so i mourn that. believe it or not, i was in soccer and almost did it in college.

but the ice feeling so freeing whenever reader steps onto it. they're not worried about sweating because of ice, and they can move how the want when they want.

reader would 100 PERCENT self sabotage themselves. filling their head with nonsense and because of all those thoughts (especially) 'dont miss this spin, dont miss this spin' only to miss it because they were focusing on whether they would 'miss the spin or not')

but in their home world, reader is phenomenal!! they're amazing! they got scouted by amazing coaches who wanted to tap into their raw potential, who were impressed by reader's hard work and drive... but reader always finds a away to miss things up for themselves.

OH MY GOD AHHH SPORTING COMPETETIONS WERE ALWAYS MY FAVORITE ARCS IN SHOWS

ITS LIKE THEIR OWN MINI OLYMPICS HAHAHA (reader: wdym you guys dont have olympics?)

ofc there's a pre sign up and auditions. reader is thinking and mulling it over. because trying out for the boys team is very different than the girl's team, is co-ed even allowed?? this is an all boys school after all!

(yuu brings crowley to their audition to convince him to give them student-ship so they can compete and WRECK those snot-nosed princes.)

maybe there's a partner skate? and you know that the admirers of reader that can skate and sign. the. fuck. up.

I WANT SKATER JADE!! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!! but home boy would probably not be able to skate at the level of reader just because he's og a fish and if he started skating when he turned human then he'd only have a year of experience </3

but lets just say there's a sports thing they have... not club but dedicated for this event... then i can see jade being somewhat on reader's level. but there's still a difference unfortunately

ROOK HUNT SKATED OUT OF THE WOMB!! ortho could professionally skate sine... 5 minutes ago? like c'mon guys get on his level.

though i can see rook rather being an observer. he also called it 'ice dancing' because that's what it is to him. but if rook trying out for this instead of his usual sweep of archery, all to stop some... he doesn't have a word for the level of disgust he'd have if he saw you dancing with a slimy no name.

plus he will be able to experience your growth! not just as a skater but as a person! he can also get closer to you!

vil. vil can! ice dance. he needed to learn it for a film and he's always liked the feeling of being on the ice. which makes pomefiore the contenders for being on the team / being reader's partner during partner categories.

epel would want ot learn hockey but was forced into ice skating by his grandma HAHAH she'd say that he can learn to play hockey after he's mastered the ice or something. it's something he's NOT proud of- but (if this is the point where him and reader are on good terms) then he'll happily play up him being a skating pro.

i can also see vil forcing epel into skating for the school. like wdym ice skating is for girls? get your ass on the ice NOW

SILVER AND LILIA WOULD ALSO BE ICE SKATERS AHHH. but it's a bit dangerous for silver to be on the ice but if it means helping support his friend then he's gung ho about it! just... please keep an eye on him in case he starts falling (he's usually good about that. making it to the sides before he was able to face plant on the ice. but lilia is always present in case of such emergencies (and if the designated watchers arent able to get to him in time))

lilia has dabbled in a bit of everything. so if you see him whip out a quad (with only a little bit of stumbling, as he complains about his bones again) he'll act like it's not hard (it's not- for him)

BUT IF MALLEUS WANTS TO GET INTO THAT ICE SKATING ACTION THEN HE'LL SPEND HOURS AT IT. the prince bale to do things a bit differently than everyone since he's.. ya knw, thee malleus draconia.

crowley ; you can barly even skate! why are you at the try outs!

malleus :... give me a week (and the mofo MEANS IT)

and dw i get random spouts of 'rook hunter-itis too. I DONT MIND YOU BRINGING HIM UP CAUSE I LOVE HIM- AND MALLEUS AHHHH)

[acaciusbride]

dancing at a club and catching mafia! Joel's eye, suddenly feeling him pressed up against him feeling you up and being invited to a more private area. mafia joels got me feral never thought of him like that until now

( I honestly don’t know where this AU idea came from, anon, but it lives in my head rent free and I’m glad I’ve infected you with this brain rot too. )

CWs: age gap / guns / oral sex (m!recieving) / unprotected sex / violence / language / dirty talk

——

You’ve been trying to get into this club for weeks, trying your luck queueing outside every Friday night. Finally, you’ve gotten lucky, and god damn is it worth the wait. It’s the fanciest place you’ve ever been in, but you suppose that makes sense. You’ve heard that the place is owned by the local crime family, and that doesn’t surprise you at all.

A few drinks in and you’re not remotely worried about dancing in a mafia owned club. You also barely notice anyone around you, except him. He’s older, older than you, but built solid, with slicked back grey streaked hair, and impossibly dark eyes that are fixed on you, watching your every move.

After a while, you lose track of him, shake off the feeling of being watched, lose yourself in the pounding music, head foggy from alcohol and adrenaline. Eyes half closed, you sway to the music, the bass pounding through your body.

Solid hands settle on your waist, pull your back flush against a wall of muscle; someone’s chest. You can feel a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, turn your head to see the older man from before smirking down at you.

“Don’t run, little rabbit.” His voice is low in your ear, but somehow still audible over the noise. There’s a slight drawl to his voice, the barest hint of an accent.

Even though every nerve in your body should be screaming at you to run, you don’t, instead press back against the man, let him run his hands over your body. You recognise him now, vaguely. You think his name is Joel, think he’s one of the enforcers for the family.

“How about we go somewhere a little quieter, hm?”

You know you should say no, but somehow you’re not so sure he’s the sort of man who takes no for an answer. And besides… you’re curious. He’s hot as hell, and dangerous, and you’re not the smartest when it comes to avoiding dangerous situations. So you let him wrap an arm around your waist and guide you from the crowded dance floor, down the hallway to one of the VIP rooms.

The music is still thumping over the speakers, but this room is much nicer, plush velvet couches and thick black carpet, walls painted black and accented with gold, dimly lit.

Joel sits himself down on one of the couches, pulls you onto his lap, draws out his gun and sets it to the side; still within arm’s reach, but not near you, ignoring it as his hand fists into your hair and drags you into a kiss. It’s rough and hungry, full of passion and need. You’ve never been kissed like this before, his hands roaming your body, pulling the tight skirt of your tiny dress up around your hips, hands kneading into the firm skin of your ass as he kisses you, makes your head spin with need for him. He pulls you against his body, grinding you down against the solid bulge in his jeans.

You whimper softly into his mouth at the feeling of him, at the thought of how big he must be.

“Very good, pretty girl.” His voice is low and husky, lips still slightly parted as he surveys you. “Now get on your knees for me. I know you want to.”

He’s right. You’re practically drooling over him, sliding from his lap to between his spread thighs in the time it takes him to unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans, pull his hard cock out. Fuck, he’s big. Big and thick and so, so hard, just from watching you, just from kissing you.

You know he’s a dangerous man, would know it even if the gun sitting next to him wasn’t a very physical fucking reminder. And yet. And yet you tuck your hair behind your ears and lean in eagerly, taking him into your mouth, kissing and licking at the tip of him until he growls. Taking it as a warning, you slide him into your mouth, working your tongue around him as best you can, taking him deeper into your throat until you’re in danger of gagging.

He rocks into your throat almost lazily, those dark eyes fixated on you, one hand in your hair, the other resting on the gun beside him. Your jaw aches, your throat too full, but the look on his face is all the encouragement you need to keep going, until he pulls you roughly off of his cock, releases your hair.

“Get up here.”

You scramble to obey him, crawling back into his lap, your skirt still up around your waist. Your thin panties, or the scrap of lace that passes for panties, are absolutely soaked, and he can tell. Smirking, he tears them clean off you, yanks you right against his chest, tosses the ruined lace aside.

“Such a slutty little girl.” His fingers run along your soaked slit, dipping inside you, making you wriggle and whimper. “You know exactly what I am, but you still want me. Still sucked my cock like it was delicious.” He kisses your bare collarbone, amused when your eyes go back to the gun beside him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.” He sucks a deep purple mark into your throat. “Can’t promise I won’t make you scream for me, though.”

He lifts you like you’re nothing, lines you up before he pulls you down roughly onto his cock, letting you sink down onto him, feeling every inch as it disappears inside you. You bury your fingers in the denim of his shirt, digging your nails in as you brace yourself.

“That’s it…” his head falls back against the wall, exhaling softly as he feels you tightening around him. “Take it…”

And you do, addicted almost instantly to how he fills you, rolling your hips against him, riding him almost desperately in time to the music pounding through the walls. There’s power in knowing who he is, what he is, and having him beneath you, hearing him moan for you.

Not that you can stay smug for long; his hands plant on your waist, keeping you still as he ruts up against you, hard and fast, hitting your sweet spot. All you can do is cling to him, crying out when his rough hand slaps your ass, one side then the other.

“Please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for; permission, maybe? You somehow know he won’t like if it you climax without his say so. It’s hard to hold it back though, and he knows it.

“Go on, princess.” He nuzzles into your throat, kisses the mark he’s left on you. “Go ahead and cum all over my cock.”

You whimper at the filthy words, at the gentle touch, and the feeling of him deep inside you; you take the permission though, letting go entirely, your entire body shaking as your release washes over you. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten laid, and why not admit it? He’s fucking good.

He knows it, too, but he’s too focused on chasing his own release to be smug about it, holding you in place with one hand, the other snaking around your throat as he bucks up into you, harder and faster, filling you with hot thick ropes of his release before he can stop himself, cursing under his breath the entire time.

He rests his head on your shoulder, considerate enough to let you regain your breath before he snags your phone from your bra, enters a number into your contacts, all without shifting you from his lap, keeping you seated on his cock.

“Next time you need to be fucked properly, princess? You give me a call.”

You nod, still dazed, beyond words.

It doesn’t occur to you until the next morning, nursing a major hangover, that the enforcer of the local fucking mafia has given you his number, implied he wants to see you again. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

[sparklingsora]

Hi. I would like to know many things about your roleswap au bc I love it very much but I have no idea what to ask I just want to know many things bc my brain has been consumed already

uhhhhh I guess can you lore dump a little bit on backstories? Idk I just wanna know everything about this au

I will be back in your ask box for this au several times most likely

-Spaghetti Brain Anon

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!! i am SO glad that i could get this au to live in someone else's brain rent free too. all i could ever ask for in life tbh i guess i'll infodump about character backstories, dynamics, character arcs, all that juicy stuff putting it under cut because HO BOY THIS IS GONNA GET LONG

as a heads up, take the timeframes i give you with a grain of salt, because i still havent completely figured out the timeline so first of all, vox!! he's a sinner, died in the 1950s, as per canon. he's a businessman, but less stable than in canon. he's always jumping from job to job, business to business, which results in him having a lot of connections with various people around hell. soon after arriving in hell, he met and became friends with alastor. cut to, i'd say around 7-10 years before the events of the story? alastor disappears without a trace during an extermination and vox assumes him dead. having now been personally touched by the effects of the extermination, the idea to try and solve overpopulation another way is planted in his head, but wont come to fruition until much later. in the meantime he meets velvette - finds her bleeding out in an alleyway after getting too cocky and trying to fight back to an exorcist (bad idea). he nurses her back to health, they become friends and eventually start dating, yada yada yada. one day vox and velvette find a funky little cat (keekee). keekee takes a liking to them and leads them to the old ruins of a building up on the hill on the edge of pentagram city. they figure out that the cat turns into a keyblade that can be used to magically build shit (only the hotel though, as keekee is the spirit of the hotel or??? whatever the hell the canon lore is idk???) vox finally decides to realize his idea to try and solve overpopulation more humanely - through redeeming sinners! his reasoning is, if angels can fall (as proven by lute and charlie), then demons can surely ascend, right? though he's not as sure or idealistic about it as charlie is in canon. he simply thinks it has a chance of working, and opening up a hotel means a bigger sample size than if he were to just try and get into heaven himself or something like that. besides, he wouldnt wanna go to heaven, he likes it here. also, im not sure where this is situated in the timeline yet, but he was in a band with adam, lute and possibly eve at some point? the band is called brimstone eden, as mentioned in the comic i posted. im not sure yet whether he was in the band prior to eve's disappearance or after it (eve disappears 7 years before the story starts to mirror canon lilith). swap!vox, like his canon counterpart, is a very reactive person. he follows trends, he's extremely go-with-the-flow to a fault. he never really had any strong beliefs until the hotel - his character arc mainly involves him gaining something to believe in and learning to fight for that belief, 'ready for this' being more or less the culmination of his arc. jesus christ i cant believe i wrote that much JUST on vox. *slaps the top of his head* this boy can fit so much lore in him

now, velvette... she's how you'd expect her to be. same old brave, arrogant velvette. she's a fashion designer and seamstress and runs a moderately sized business which she promotes on sinstagram. she's mutuals with val there, which is how he finds out about the hotel. there's not much to write home about when it comes to val - it's insane how similar angel and him are. like literally barely anything changes when you swap them, it's very clean. he's a prn star, sold his soul to angel dust, yada yada. though a bit on his dynamic with vox - vox is very good at reading people, and doesn't like being lied to (he's a bit of a hypocrite in that regard - he puts on a facade all the time when in professional settings). he can clearly tell val isnt doing as good as he pretends he is, and wants to help him really badly, but val just sees it as vox pitying him and rejects his help (its what they fight about in ep 4, as a counterpart to the whole "charlie going to the studio" thing bc vox wouldnt do that) and now here's the fun part - ALASTOR! oh, alastor, you beautiful stuck up bitch! so turns out, he's not so dead after all! he ALMOST died in that fateful extermination, but husk found him and offered him a "give me your soul right now or bleed out in this alleyway" type deal. of course alastor chose the former, but boy he's not happy about it. he's extremely ashamed of how far he's fallen. so ashamed, in fact, that he hid from the world for those 7-10 years! yeah! he's only pulled out of hiding when husk summons him to be the bartender for the hotel. vox is of course, extremely bewildered and demands answers. alastor doesnt give them and avoids him instead. it takes a sincere conversation with valentino in ep 4 for alastor to finally talk to vox again and explain himself. alastor is basically in extremely deep denial of just how fucked his life is. he clings onto his radio demon persona like a lifeline bc its the last thing that can help him feel some semblance of control over his situation. his tension with valentino is twofold - first they butt heads because of opposing personalities, and second because they both see the other's bullshittery. it's a clusterfuck it eventually bubbles over in ep 4, they both admit how absolutely fucked they are and are friends now. wish i could say more on al & val bc i love them very much but it seems ive run out of eloquency for now. though i know i'll draw some comics of them eventually so maybe it'll come across better in comic form. anyway as mentioned above ive run out of eloquency and im honestly not sure how coherent this whole thing is so you'll have to come back for the other characters some other time, dear anon! until then, thank you so much for the ask once again, and have a nice day/night :)

[teetle-time]

…so the writing demons grabbed me by the throat this morning and wouldn't let me go until i wrote this. anyway @hasello the cousins au is living in my brain rent-free so i hope u don't mind that i took a crack at something first-meetings-y with rise and 03 and wound up with 2.5k words of the babies :D

〜

The rat who once was Lou sprinted down the rain-slick alleyway with one arm clutching his boys to his chest and the other digging through his pockets.

"I saw it run this way!"

He bit back a curse; his pursuers were still hot on his trail.

And his tail.

Heh.

What a time to be alive.

The mystic key bumped against his fingers, and he quickly snatched it out of his pocket and darted to the nearest wall. He needed to be quick and precise.

…well, he at least managed speed. He spent too many precious seconds glancing back to watch the beams of light bounce ever higher just a turn away, so he really had no idea if his sigil was anywhere near accurate.

As if in answer to prayer, it lit up, opening a circular portal for him, and he leapt through without a second thought, pocketing the key as he fell.

His luck held out long enough for him to hear it close behind him without any of the humans chasing him shouting in surprise.

It did not hold out long enough to actually drop him into the Hidden City.

Instead, when the portal ended, he stumbled out into a long tunnel, directly in front of another rat with four humanoid turtles around them.

No-Longer-Lou froze like a deer in headlights, staring at the strangers and heaving for air.

The strangers all mirrored him, freezing in place and scanning him in all their various capacities.

The other rat spoke first: "My, isn't this unexpected?"

A snort forced its way from No-Longer-Lou against his will at that, though he quickly brought a hand (no, he had paws now) to his mouth to stifle it. "I- I'm so sorry, I just- I didn't mean to- This isn't where-!"

"Peace," said the other rat, carefully maneuvering the turtle in front of him a bit to the side and standing up. "Whatever circumstances brought you here, it is clear that you have been moved by the strings of fate, rather than by choices of your own design. You mean no harm to us, yes?"

"I-I- yes."

"And we mean no harm to you," soothed the other.

No-Longer-Lou breathed heavily for a moment more, but then his attention was quickly arrested by motion in his arms.

Raphael- the quickest to grow, but still so, so small- screwed up his face. "Papa?"

"I'm right here, Raphael," No-Longer-Lou murmured, reaching into the sling to give the boy's hand a squeeze.

The other rat's eyes widened at the name. "Now, that is a one-in-a-million chance, indeed."

"Why's he got a baby with my name?" demanded the turtle wearing a red mask over his eyes.

It was No-Longer-Lou's turn to be surprised. "Raphael? But then…"

He took in the colors of the masks on the other three turtle boys' faces.

Purple, blue, and orange.

"Donatello? Leonardo? M-Michelangelo?"

Silence.

At least, until the turtle boy in orange leaned over to his brothers and whispered loudly, "How does he know our names, dudes?!"

No-Longer-Lou's sons roused at their names, and he quickly realized his mistake as Michelangelo began to fuss. "Oh, oh, no, Michelangelo, please, it is alright, please don't-!"

Michelangelo may have been the youngest, but he had a record-shattering set of lungs, for sure.

The moment Michelangelo began to wail, Leonardo jumped in with him, refusing to be left out, and then Raphael was crying and Donatello was shoving his tiny head into No-Longer-Lou's chest with his hands over where his ears would have been and the rat could feel his own ears on the verge of bleeding-!

The other rat's back straightened, and he turned to the older turtle boys. "My sons, I still have some of the supplies I scavenged when you were tots. Raphael, the pacifiers. Leonardo and Donatello, the blankets. Michelangelo, the pillows."

The boys nodded seriously, wincing as the cries reached a peak before darting across the tunnel and digging through various chests and boxes. Meanwhile, the other rat carefully took No-Longer-Lou's arm and led him towards the chair the others had been gathered around in the first place. "Please, have a seat. I would quite like to hear the tale of how you came to this place-"

-an ear-splitting cry from Leonardo-

"-but first, we must calm your children," finished the other rat with a tired smile.

No-Longer-Lou nodded just as tiredly and began to gently bounce his boys. "There, there, your Papa is right here, we are all together, and…and we are safe."

The other rat's expression warmed.

"I got the pacifiers!" called the older boy named Raphael, charging back over and brandishing the four objects in one hand.

"Excellent work, Raphael," praised the other rat as he took the pacifiers.

The boy beamed.

"These should do for now," the other rat said, pressing one into No-Longer-Lou's paw. "These were enchanted by an old friend of mine to allow them to keep up with beaked babies."

No-Longer-Lou managed a weak smile at that, then carefully reached in to nudge the pacifier against Michelangelo's mouth. "Here we are, little Orange. Wouldn't it be nicer to suck on this instead of crying?"

Michelangelo hiccuped, but after a moment of what seemed like confusion, his mouth closed around the pacifier and he looked up at No-Longer-Lou with wide, wet eyes.

"One down, two to go," chuckled the other rat, handing off another pacifier. This one went to Leonardo, who contented himself quickly once he had something to do with himself. He seemed to be gnawing on the pacifier, rather than sucking on it, but No-Longer-Lou chalked it up to curiosity at the foreign object.

Surprisingly- or perhaps not- Donatello was the next one to need something to work with. Raphael began calming down after a few moments of being the only one still crying, but when Donatello caught sight of Leonardo messing with the pacifier, he turned an utterly betrayed stare up at No-Longer-Lou until he gave the boy one to fiddle with.

With the remaining pacifier in hand, No-Longer-Lou smiled wearily at Raphael. "You may be a bit big to use this, Red. Do you still want to try?"

Raphael nodded firmly. "Raphie's the big brother. Gotta be the bestest essample."

No-Longer-Lou handed the pacifier over, and…yep, it was completely dwarfed by his son. Still, his boy held it in his mouth and smiled over at Michelangelo when the two met eyes.

Michelangelo blinked, then smiled back.

"Blanket delivery!" called the bigger Donatello, carrying a pile of blankets nearly as tall as he was.

Next to him, his brother Leonardo fussed. "Donnie, I told you I could have held some!"

"Easy, Leonardo," chuckled the other rat, easily lifting the blankets from Donatello's hands. "How about you make sure our visitors are tucked in and comfortable?"

"Okay, Father," chirped Leonardo, immediately doing exactly that- and perhaps peeking into No-Longer-Lou's arms a few times to peer at his boys.

Little Raphael watched the bigger boy curiously, then said around the pacifier, "Raphie thought we were th'only turtle people."

The bigger Leonardo paused for a moment, then looked at him. "So'd we."

Leonardo- the baby- met the other Leonardo's eyes, then spat out his pacifier- and yes, it was much more chewed-on than before. "Hi! Hi, hi, hi! I'm Leo!"

The other Leonardo blinked, then grinned. "Me too. It's a good name, right?"

Little Leonardo nodded, shaking his entire body from the effort. "Daddy pickeded it!"

No-Longer-Lou chuckled. "Feeling better now, are we?"

Little Leonardo nodded again, just as energetically. "Mikey no sad no more!"

"Did somebody say Mikey?!" crowed the older boy of the same name, wildly waving pillows over his head as he ran over.

"Midey! Midey! Midey!" cheered the baby around his pacifier, flailing his arms.

"That's right, little dude!" Older Michelangelo grinned and peered over at him as soon as he skidded to a stop in front of No-Longer-Lou. "We're the mightiest!"

"MIDEYST!" shrieked the baby in glee.

Little Donatello winced and paused his inspection of his pacifier to glare witheringly at his youngest brother.

"Careful, Michelangelo," chastised No-Longer-Lou. "Your brother has sensitive hearing, remember?"

Baby Michelangelo blinked, then frowned very seriously and wiggled until he was able to grab Little Donatello's arm in a hug- or rather, a- "Dondon hubbub."

Little Donatello's glare softened, and he went back to fiddling with the pacifier with his free hand. It seemed the hinge on the back occupied more of his attention than the squishy part meant to be sucked on.

The older Michelangelo pressed the pillows in his hands to his face. "D'awww, they're so cute!"

No-Longer-Lou smiled warmly. "They are, aren't they?"

"It seems like we've established that we have similar taste in names," chuckled the other rat. "Though, just to be sure, might I ask yours?"

No-Longer-Lou's smile turned bitter. "It doesn't matter. I'm only a splinter of the man I used to be, anyway."

The other rat's eyebrows rose. "What curious phrasing. I never was a man, but the name I was given before my mutation by the family I was brought into was…well, Splinter."

No-Longer-Lou straightened in the chair at that. "Curious indeed…"

After a moment of thought, on a half-formed hunch born of one too many late night sci-fi movie marathons, he continued, "You know, before my own mutation, I'd more-or-less befriended a rat in my- well. A rat. I…I'd chosen the name Lou Jitsu years ago, but…the name I was given was Yoshi."

A shaky breath from Splinter. "…Hamato Yoshi?"

No-Longer-Lou steadfastly kept his focus on his boys. "I haven't deserved that name in a long time."

He kept the part about not wanting to be associated with his family's 'traditions' firmly unsaid.

"You okay, Papa?" asked Raphael, reaching up to pat at his face.

"I will be," No-Longer-Lou said, pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead.

Splinter gently laid a hand on No-Longer-Lou's shoulder. "I swear to you, you and your children will be safe here for as long as you need. I don't know how you came to be here, but I will help you return home if you so wish."

No-Longer-Lou nodded, thickness rising up in his throat and clogging it.

"Mr. Lou, can I see Baby Mikey?" asked the older Michelangelo, setting the pillows down.

Both rats' eyebrows rose, and Splinter asked, "Mr. Lou?"

"Well, if he doesn't use that Yoshi name, and we can't call him Splinter because you're Splinter, then he's Mr. Lou!" Older Michelangelo crossed his arms and nodded decisively, his point made.

Splinter and…and Lou met each other's eyes with equally bemused expressions, then Lou looked down at his boys. "I don't know. Orange, would you like to see Big Michelangelo?"

"Bihmidey!" Michelangelo said seriously, patting at Donatello's arm before wriggling upright and peeking out at the older boy. "Bihmidey hi?"

"Heh, yep," said Older Michelangelo, beaming widely. "Hi, li'l Mikey!"

The baby chirped excitedly, bouncing in place until Older Michelangelo reached over to pick him up. Lou watched carefully, but it seemed the older boy had at least some idea of how to hold a young child, as he easily hefted Little Michelangelo against his side.

"I wanna see the babies!" exclaimed Older Leonardo.

"Me too!"

"Yeah!"

Little Leonardo giggled and clambered out of Lou's arms too quickly for him to react. "Hey, hey, hi! I'm big boy!"

Older Raphael darted forward to keep Little Leo from tumbling to the ground. "You sure are, yeesh! Don't hurt yourself!"

Little Raphael whined. "Leo, don't fall down like that! You'll get a owie!"

"S'okay, Raphie!" Little Leonardo grinned up at his brother, then at Older Raphael. "There's two Raphies! That's even more Raphie! Gonna be saferest!"

Little Raphael whined again, but after a brief moment where Older Raphael's eyes grew suspiciously moist, the older boy blinked quickly before grinning at his younger double. "You heard 'im. I'll keep your bro outta trouble, swear."

Little Raphael scowled. "You better."

"Did you want to come out and keep an eye on them?" asked Older Leonardo knowingly.

That got a nod out of Little Raphael, and the older boy helped him climb down to the ground.

With only Donatello left in his arms, Lou couldn't find it in himself to be surprised when the older Donatello peered at the younger boy. "What about you, Tinytello? You wanna come hang out?"

Little Donatello hissed in displeasure and flipped the hinged handle on the pacifier up and down more quickly.

"I'm guessing that's a 'no,' then," said Lou. "It's nothing against you, I promise. Today has simply been…a lot."

"Oh, I can get that," agreed Older Donatello immediately. "Like, I dunno what you were doing before you came here, but it didn't look very fun. And now a bunch of big brother wannabes are getting all up in his space and playing with his bros without him? I'd be on-edge, too."

Little Donatello's handle-flipping stilled, and he shifted to look at Older Donatello's chest. (Wasn't there a turtle-specific word for that part of their shells…?)

"I'm close, huh?" asked Older Donatello. "Figured it'd be something like that. That's okay, Tinytello! Sounds like you've been having a rough time of it. Do you want me to go do something else, or should I stay put?"

Little Donatello's forehead furrowed for a moment, then he gravely held the pacifier out to the older boy.

Lou's brows shot up. "Huh. I know Purple is unique in many ways, but he usually isn't so quick to decide a stranger is worthy of a gift…even if that gift belonged to the stranger, first."

Little Donatello frowned when Older Donatello didn't immediately take the pacifier, then gave the handle a demonstrative flip before shaking the pacifier a little.

Older Donatello's eyes widened, and he carefully took the pacifier and gave the handle a tentative flip.

Little Donatello chirruped, shifting in place to get comfy in the crook of Lou's elbow in such a way as to keep watching the older boy.

Splinter chuckled as the two Donatellos went back and forth, flipping and chirping. "I do believe your son has found a new friend in mine."

Lou huffed a weak laugh of his own. "I suppose he has."

He took the opportunity to scan the tunnel- or rather, now that he had a moment to think, the room within the tunnel.

Little Raphael and Older Leonardo stood aside as Little Leonardo cartwheeled in circles, ooh-ing and aah-ing whenever the younger boy glanced their way. Older Raphael kept a hawklike eye on the toddler, constantly circling around him to place himself between Leonardo and the nearest obstacles. Older Michelangelo hopped around the room, bouncing the baby with each hop and getting the both of them to giggle madly.

Little Donatello yawned contentedly and smushed the side of his face against Lou's arm, still watching Older Donatello bemusedly flip the handle of the pacifier.

Lou felt the adrenaline that had kept him moving for the past hour finally begin to drain, and it quickly became a struggle to keep his eyes open.

Splinter's hand came down on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Rest, Lou. You and your sons are safe here. The rest can wait for now."

Lou nodded tiredly, and his eyes fluttered shut before he could have any further say in the matter.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

forever ago you mentioned in an ask post that you have a story in your head about college-aged Matt saving Frank’s kids and in return the Castle family forcibly enfolds him into their tribe. There is literal kidnapping involved, and every word in your little summary was fucking hilarious. I want you to know that that scenario has lived in my head rent free ever since—I am astounded by your brain and that concept makes me want to eat dirt (in the best way)(that is a compliment of the highest degree)

anyways! Please don’t think this is me asking “when will you write that” bc i get it, some plot bunnies are just bunnies, and time/real world is a bitch, BUT—if you ever have any little ramblings about it, I’d love to hear them :) the Castle family is Insane and I love them dearly and I am forever entranced by your characterizations of Matt and Frank

Have a good one!!

Christmas with the Castles my beloved. I love this one so much that I typed out an outline of the fic entirely. It is long. Please, take my ramblings if you want them:

It's Christmas at Columbia, hohoho, peace and goodwill to all mankind. The dorms are closed over winter break to replace the pipes and Matt's out on his ass for the holidays, so get fucked, blind little orphan with no surviving family, and God bless us everyone.

Normally the Nelson clan would have taken him in but Foggy's bitch of a Great Aunt Bertha insists on holding the entire family hostage for the holidays with the will as collateral, and she sucks in many respects but even more in the sense that she doesn't want any blind orphans schlepping around her holiday table. But the Nelson clan will risk it all for Matt, who they think is neat. They'll put the whole fucking will on the line, buddy.

Matt assures them that he's got it all under control and has a place to stay. Yes, with a person. Yes, a real one. An old friend of his dad's. No, he's not going to be homeless. Stop asking questions.

This is a lie.

His plan is to simply be homeless. Peace and goodwill to all mankind.

Except Foggy knows when Matt's on his bullshit and insists on speaking to the guy he's staying with, which means he needs to get Fogwell to lie for him. Except Fogwell knows when Matt's on his bullshit and won't let him off the fucking hook until he knows Matt won't be homeless for the holidays.

Matt unequivocally refuses to come home with him. Stop asking. He'll find someone else to do the phone call.

They compromise with Matt staying in the fucking boiler room of the gym. Peace and goodwill to all mankind.

Except Matt sort of makes Fogwell think that he only needs to crash for a few days, and Foggy's family is going to take him in for the rest. This is also a lie. He is fucking off to be homeless for the rest of the holiday season.

Peace and goodwill to all mankind.

He's swallowing his misgivings and putting up with staying in the boiler room of the gym for a few days so Fogwell won't freak out. Which he now regrets. Because it puts him right in the earshot of an active hostage situation. Are those kids? Those are fucking kids.

Anyway he tries to call the police anonymously like ten times but this just tips off the hostage takers, who apparently have a mole in the police, surprising no one. Now they're going to kill the fucking kids.

Matt can't listen to this.

Peace and fucking goodwill to all mankind.

Okay. Fuck. He's doing this now.

Fuck.

THE CASTLE'S HOLIDAY SEASON, THUS FAR:

The kids got kidnapped.

like

fuck.

that happened.

The thing is that some random NSA guy got into contact with Frank and in this AU he actually blew the whistle on the the CIA's bullshit. His family was in protective custody, until his best friend and pseudo brother stabbed him in the fucking back and sold them out. Now they have his kids.

He then kills a lot of people.

Like a lot.

But he can't find his kids. They have his kids.

They're going to kill his kids.

MATT'S NIGHT, THUS FAR:

He's an asshole in sweatpants with a t-shirt wrapped around the top part of his face and no fucking plan, and there are so many assholes with guns in there. Like. So many.

But fuck it. He's doing this now.

fuck.

He fights a lot of guys. He gets super shot. Some guy tries to shoot him with arrows. Like, what the fuck even is this, Robin Hood? Honestly, fuck this night.

Anyway, he saves the kids. Wheee.

It's sort of nice? They bond, when the crying stops. The kids like him a lot. He calls their parents. Sets up a place for them to get picked up. The boy gives him the sweatshirt he's wearing under his jacket, which is kind of him, because it's fuck-off cold and Matt's about ten minutes from going into shock. Anyway, he drops them off at the spot and fucks off into the night before their oddly bloodstained dad can stop him like the world's shittiest off-brand batman.

He then goes to exercise the right of any God-fearing American citizen, which is to bleed out in the basement of his childhood church.

Fogwell's never gonna be okay again if he finds Matt's blood-soaked body in the gym. Matt figures he can just break into that basement no one uses, steal a med kit, make a solid confession about breaking into and stealing from a church if he lives long enough, and hopefully no one will even notice he was there.

This does not pan out.

A really angry nun finds him and narcs him out to Father Lanthom and they bitch him out for "dying" and "not seeking life-saving medical attention" and drag his ass to to the hospital.

NOW THE CASTLE FAMILY, REUNITED AT LAST:

The kids' will be in therapy forever but the danger is gone, because frank killed them all very dead.

He then received a presidential pardon for All The Murder.

Peace and goodwill to all mankind.

Anyway he's testified about the CIA corruption, the government is occupying itself with the coverup to end all coverups, and his only remaining concerns is (1) taking care of his family and (2) making sure the bleeding dipshit who saved his kids lives doesn't die in the streets. He's gotta find that dumb asshole.

Then he gets a phone call from a very concerned nurse at Metro General about the bleeding dipshit that got brought in with his kid's sweatshirt. They're calling because he keeps trying to goddamn leave while very fucking shot and he had a jacket with Frankie's information written on it in magic marker. Do they know him? Can they please come pick him up? They think he's going to die in the streets if someone does not pick him up.

And Yeah. Yeah, Frank Can Do That.

Matt.

Yeah.

The magic marker, he didn't.

Didn't

Didn't see that part.

Fuck.

Anyway, Matt's On His Way Out To Be Homeless For The Holiday Season, Peace And Goodwill To All Mankind, As Soon As The Goddamn Nurses Stop Hiding The Leave Against Medical Advice Forms. He lied and said he got jumped by a lot of guys, no, he didn't see who did it, because, you know. Blind. Just a regular ol' blind guy here. Poor fucking blind orphan alone and shot for the holiday season. Just give him the goddamn form.

And then that fucking guy shows up in his hospital room. The suspiciously bloody father of the kids he just got shot over. He's here, he's insisting that Matt's one of his family's closest friends and they're paying all of Matt's medical bills, and he's not commenting on the blind bit, but Matt can literally smell his curiosity. Matt's insisting that some random guy gave him the jacket, no, he didn't see his face, because, you know. Blind. He's not the guy Frank thinks he is. Nope. Please fuck off now.

They do not fuck off. Maria Castle blows through the hospital room like a hurricane, hugs him very genuinely, cries a little, and tells him that the Castle family pays their debts, and they've never had a greater one. Then the kids show up, and they fucking recognize him. Fuck.

Matt: imindanger.exe

Matt keeps feigning ignorance. Then, he waits until they leave the room and he fucking books it.

Anyway the Castle family minivan catches up to him when he's legging it a block away. They keep pace with him, and ask to just take him where he's going, and they swear they're not going to hurt him. They just want to help him out. He saved their kids.

And he can hear that they're telling the truth.

And it's so goddamn cold.

And he can hear his own internal bleeding.

And he's so, so tired.

So he tells them that no one would ever believe them. And he gets in the car. and he gives them Fogwell's address. And he tells himself he'll crash there for a day or two and fuck off to be homeless in the streets, peace and good-fucking-will to all mankind.

WHAT THE CASTLE FAMILY DID NOT SCHEDULE FOR THE DAY:

A kidnapping.

WHAT THE CASTLE FAMILY DOES:

It's. It's a kidnapping. They do a kidnapping.

Look. Look. they pay their debts. They pay their fucking debts. It's what they do. And they get to Fogwell's boiler room and rapidly fucking realize that the guy who they owe their everything to is a terminally stupid 20-something and living in the rundown boiler room of an empty gym. And they simply cannot have that.

Frank? Frank, show Matthew back to the car, will he? Maria's going to pack up his things for him.

Matt: what.exe

WHAT MATT DID NOT SCHEDULE FOR THE DAY:

it's.

It's the kidnapping.

it's that.

This fic is fundamentally founded in my premise that the entire Castle family is simply fucking insane. They're just all like that. Frank is not an outlier.

For the Castles, they're being perfectly reasonable. It's obvious that no one's taking care of this lovely young man who saved their kids, so no one will mind if they do it instead. He definitely needs it. So they sit their kids down and explain that sometimes Stockholm Syndrome is for someone's own good, which sounds perfectly reasonable to them. They then proceed to treat this like when you somewhat impulsively get a sick puppy from a Home Depot parking lot, and, well, he's a bit poorly behaved, and he keeps trying to run away, but the kids had wanted it so badly and eventually he's going to settle into his new home and then maybe you can stick felt reindeer antlers on him for the Christmas card, so you keep shoving his meds in peanut butter and forcing them down his throat and keeping the door blocked so the puppy can't slip out into the freezing new york night.

Matt treats this for what it is, which is a fucking kidnapping.

He is now fucking handcuffed to these crazy assholes' guest bed in their suburban home. It's by definition a kidnapping. they're acting like he's the unreasonable one for pointing this out. Except every time he wriggles out of his handcuffs, Frank just lugs his ass back to bed and chains him back up while they scold him. As if he's the unreasonable one for trying to escape his own kidnapping. They make him take his meds and eat three meals a day and the kids watch fucking Christmas movies with him while narrating the screen, as if this wasn't a kidnapping. This is insane. They're all insane.

Which is what he eventually tells them, out loud and to their faces.

And then Maria cries.

Stop.

Stop that.

That thing she's doing with her face. Stop that thing.

And Maria's like. Maybe they were over enthusiastic. But, being a mother, she just wants to take care of the nice young man who saved her little angels. And if that makes her a criminal, then she guesses she's a criminal. Because she cares.

Matt: shoving me into a van and handcuffing me to a bed against my will makes you by definition a criminal

maria: *cries harder*

Matt: stop

And Matt's like. Fine. Fine. He'll give into their crazy fucking kidnapping. Saves him the trouble of being homeless. Just. It's only until Christmas, and then he's gone.

maria, tearfully: and new years too?

Matt: don't push your luck

So fuck it. He's doing this now. But he's not going to like it. And he gets to come and go when he wants.

Frank: no.

matt: seriously fuck you

Except Matt's got shit they didn't pack at Fogwells. Shit they didn't realize belonged to him. His dad's shit. And he's absolutely desperate to get his dad's shit before some well-meaning janitor tosses it. So he very reluctantly agrees to let Frank go in his stead. Just. Just don't talk to people. And don't tell anyone he kidnapped matt. matt does not want to deal with that fucking court case.

Fogwell, immediately catching Frank gathering Matt's stuff for him, when he finds out that Matt sent him: are you a Nelson?

Frank, not a Nelson: Guilty.

And Fogs is just. Thrilled. So fucking thrilled that Matt has the Nelsons. Matt needs people like that, you know? People that'll welcome him home.

He's a good kid. And he hasn't had a home in a good long time. And Fogs--he's so fucking sorry that he couldn't give Matt that. And he. He.

Just tell him Merry Christmas from him? He understands why Matt didn't want to spend it with him.

Just tell him ol' Fogs was thinking of him. Tell him he really, really cares and hopes his holidays are good.

Fuck. Tell him he loves him. Just. Just tell him that. Fogs should have done it a long time ago.

What follows from there is a lot of wholesome, family-friendly Christmas activities, like:

making gingerbread houses

ice-skating

having a total mental breakdown when you get the message passed along from your pseudo-grandfather that he wishes he could have given him a home.

drinking cocoa

getting shit-faced drunk out on the town with the somewhat insane mother of those kids you saved, only to both be lugged home by a very exasperated Frank Castle.

watching Christmas movies

Visiting the grave of your dead father whose loss you've never recovered from

drinking eggnog

Confessing about your superpowers to the crazy fuckers who may or may not have given you stockholm syndrome, as well as your lasting trauma around the fact that you were child-soldierified and your soul-crushing terror that it will happen again

Making paper snowflakes

(Matt may not have meant to do all those things.)

I really like having backstories in communication with each other across my fics taking place in the same fandom? And Fogs is a great example of that. He tends to show up in all of my Daredevil fics, and he usually does something that brings Matt in from the cold in his backstory.

But in this world, that Fogs didn't do it.

In this one, he had the chance, and he failed.

Matt came to him. He ran away from the foster care system when he was a teen, and he went to Fogs as a desperate, last ditch effort. He begged Fogs to still love him the way he did when he was a kid. He begged Fogs to take him in the way he once took in Jack Murdock. He'd help Fogs around the gym. He'd do anything Fogs asked. He just wants to go home.

All he's wanted for years was to just go home.

And Fogs hugged him. He held him. He let him sleep on the couch.

And he called the police.

He wanted to do it the right away around, this time. He didn't want Matt to be hiding from the system for the rest of his youth the way his daddy once did. He wanted him to still get to go to school. He wanted him to be a kid. He wanted to adopt him proper, and didn't think of the fact that no one was gonna let him do it.

And he didn't account for how Matt would never trust him again.

He didn't account for Matt ending up on the streets, and he didn't account for matt refusing to come for him for help again, and he didn't account for Matt refusing to have anything to do with him until he hit law school and barely tolerated hanging around the gym at night again, and he didn't account for Matt not being able to stand the idea of spending the holidays with him.

There's a lot Fogs won't ever forgive himself for.

Anyway, Matt's stockholm syndrome was a great success. They fucking did it. They now have a crazy motherfucker with superpowers who's occupying this space as a the kid's new pseudo uncle. Unmitigated success. God, what an addition to the family. He's just as crazy as them.

Except Matt gets a call. From a very upset Foggy Nelson. Who says that they decided to burn the defunct bridge that was their relationship with their torrid bitch of a great aunt after she said something homophobic to Foggy's sister, and they went to go surprise Matt for the holidays, only to find out that he was already supposed to be with them. Matthew.

The thing is, foggy knows who Matt is as a person. He knows who Matt is as a person. There is such a very real chance that his blind best friend has been living under an overpass in subzero weather for the past few weeks and not telling him. He's having a heart attack and needs to come pick him up immediately before Matt starts selling his body or something.

And like, good news is that Matt was kidnapped by a lovely suburban family who have been keeping him warm and fed and dry, and they're going to be baking gingerbread today. The bad news is that Matt will literally have a heart attack if he has to explain to foggy how he got here so he just. Panics.

And hangs up the phone.

And matts panicking about how he hung up the phone, because foggy will absolutely call the police and report him as a missing person, holy shit will he call the police on him, Matt was literally kidnapped but he likes his kidnappers now and doesn't want them to be arrested, they're making gingerbread you see and that would be inconvenient to the gingerbread making. So Maria and Frank and the kids are watching this weird feral law student they forcibly adopted go through every single stage of grief in a two minute span, wonder how he made it through life so far on his own, and Maria wrangles the phone from him and calls Foggy back and politely tells him that this is Maria Castle, matts basically a part of their family and has been staying with them through the holidays, they've heard so much about foggy, won't he come visit? How about tomorrow at two? They're making gingerbread today.

Matt: MARIA

Matt is panicking. Foggy knows he doesn't have a family. Foggy is his family. Foggy has unlocked his tragic backstory. Foggy is going to wonder how he acquired a family in like a two and a half week span.

Foggy is panicking. He knows Matt doesn't have a family. He has unlocked matts tragic backstory. Matt was in their fucking Christmas cards because he has no family's Christmas cards to be in.

Maria is not panicking. They're taking a step back and making gingerbread now. Take deep breaths, Matthew.

FOGGY NELSON'S THEORIES ABOUT WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH HIS BEST FRIEND (ABRIDGED):

Matt has started a polycule with a suburban couple and is raising their children with them now.

Matt was switched at birth and that's his newly discovered real family and he just never told Foggy.

Matt has been kidnapped by a family in the suburbs and they've enslaved him to make gingerbread with their children.

Which is true, weirdly enough.

Matt is having a spiraling panic attack because while he's like, not on deaths door anymore, he's still healing and clearly beat to shit and foggys going to think the castles did it and freak out and he doesn't have a lie for this prepped. And the castles are like "okay okay but, quick point, you've even prattling on about this kid for like, a minimum of four hours per day, you are more likely than not in love with him, have you considered the truth"

And Matt doesn't know what to do with that, is the thing.

Foggy comes by. He is four hours early. He arrived immediately after he got the address. Maria is lovely and kind and welcoming. Frank pumps his arm firmly and is built like a brickshit house and sort of intimidating.

Matt is absolutely beat to shit.

Matt is absolutely beat to shit.

Foggy: AHAHAHA HEY BUDDY IMMA GIVE YOU A HUG BECAUSE I MISSED YOU AND LOVE YOU SO MUCH IN THIS THE SEASON OF GOODWILL AMONG MEN. did they do this to you cough twice for yes

Matt: oh for the love of god.

And the problem is. For a family that commits felonies. They're weirdly open about that fact.

Foggy: how did Matt end up staying with you

Lisa: oh we gave him Stockholm syndrome after kidnapping him

matt: ahahaha kids say the darndest things

Frankie: no really dad kept having to drag him off the windowsill when he tried to climb out and we had to be extra welcoming to him so he'd stop trying to escape

Matt: AHAHAHA KIDS SAY THE DARNDEST THINGS

Foggy told his cop friend Brett to be on standby before he came here and now he's rapidly wondering if he needs to actualize that.

There's a good deal bit more after that, but this is getting long. There's emotional honesty. There's homosexuality. There's confessions about superpowers that Matt may or may not have. There's discussing trauma.

There's the fucking shadow government showing up to recruit Matt.

The thing is that Frank Castle is one of the best military operatives, like. Ever. And SHIELD was interested in recruiting that. And they thought, hey, saving his kids may do that. And they sent Hawkeye to infiltrate the mercenaries that had taken them.

Except they were fuck-off guns there and while he could take them all out if it was just him, he'd have to be 90% crazier of motherfucker than he actually is to try that shit with two kids in the line of fire.

And then an absolutely crazy motherfucker showed up and did exactly that. Caught his arrow mid-backflip. Kicked his ass too. It was sort of sick as hell. He hasn't met anyone so good at hand to hand since black widow.

They couldn't not recruit that guy.

And like. They found him. They found him really easily. The castle family kidnapped him. It was kind of obvious.

So Clint and Coulson roll up with the recruitment pitch and Clints like "hey, haha, I'm Clint, you stabbed me, wow you're like, completely insane, I mean that literally and in a figurative impressiveness sense, want to be best friends" and matts a fucking centimeter from launching himself out the window and starting a new life in Mexico.

And coulson's good at what he does. He can tell that matts not at all buying what he's selling, is more than a little freaked out at the idea of being identified as enhanced, and is almost definitely a former child soldier if their background was accurate about who took him from his orphanage for a few months. He also knows that Matt's abilities are too unique and too useful to just walk away from them. Nothing can be hidden from him. And if a fucking nuke is missing and they need someone to sniff it out, they need to be able to set Matt loose on a city for it. So he makes the pitch of "what if I keep you out of all databases, tell no one your name, and have you as a strictly as needed member of the roster," to which Matt replies with something along the line of "you can go and get fucked with you fascist shadow agency bullshit, you fucking totalitarian nightmare freaks, you try and drag me off to your freak show org to be a fucking dog on a leash for your illegal agency and I'll bite your goddamn face off, the world would have to end for me to come within a hundred godforsaken feet of you," which is… a coarse but technically affirmative answer that Coulson takes to mean as "Yes, if the world is ending, I will come to your agency." He honestly tells him that he'll keep matts secret and leaves. And Matt is still considering the Mexico plan but decides that he has a family to keep him here now in foggy and the castles and decides to risk staying. And that's that.

Which leads into my semi-crack fic of Matt being in the original Avengers, which I won't subject you to here. but some highlights:

Matt misses the first day of world-saving because he took off the second the SHIELD guy came by to pick him up. He managed to hide for 27 consecutive hours before they dragged his ass to the helicarrier.

He wasn't briefed at all because they ask him if he read the files they gave him and he just tosses them on the table and asks "does this look like fucking Braille to you." He repeatedly threatens to sue them for a lack of ada compliance.

He keeps getting stuck in rooms because this nightmare space ship only uses screens for everything, including door handles.

The hulk: *is the hulk*

Matt, has a stick: WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT

Tony: in a few minutes I'll know every secret SHIELD has ever had

Matt, has listened to at least eight top secret HYDRA meetings since being locked into this fucking hell ship: MHMM

They save the day, he's in a mask, the press asks them all whats next for the avengers and he's like "well I have a day job, I'm going home" and just. Walks away.

Three weeks later he starts fighting crime of his own volition and whenever anyone mentions hey is it maybe that avenger fellow he replies to the official inquiries with "oh no you see I have a day job" which should not work but does

Of course, Matt learning about HYDRA leads into my other semi-crack fic involving Matt simply immediately telling Captain America about the fucking Nazi's, and Cap rediscovering his life's passion, which is punching some fucking Nazi's. Except, he really needs Matt to spy on HYDRA for this to work, and Matt's identity is still almost entirely secret even within SHIELD and he doesn't want to endanger that. So they embark on introducing everyone to Matt Murdock, his totally normal, blind attorney boyfriend who is not at all a superpowered ultimate spy who happens to be secretly a very reluctant Avenger. It is now a fake dating AU.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

anon's dumb as hell and i wanted to say i purchased the very last paradiso art book and it's literally one of my most prized possessions now. i don't know much about dark souls specifically but malenia/gwynevere has started living rent free in my brain LOL. i also adore your take on messmer, one of my favorites out there !! and your design and hcs for rellana are SO compelling, im looking forward to all of your art/learning more in bits and pieces :D

wow thank you so much for your support !!!

with the speed im drawing for the DLC now i think another book for just the ER dlc alone is possible in the future, but i'll have to choose between which AUs or stories i want to spin into a whole comic....... decisions decisions 😭

that Rellana design came for my throat fr ....... i drew all that in 7 hours on a sunday, she demands to be known right away 🤣🤣 im glad you're enjoying my takes on these characters!!

[s0fti3w1tch]

Hey, in TD Leo is a trans man right?

And considering the fact that the mad dos refer to him as their brother that mean he came out before he disappeared...

So two questions: 1. When did he came out to his family,(will you do a mini comic?🥺🥺🙏🙏)

2. What was his "birth" name (Venus?😋)

Btw I absolutely love your art, comics and the fact that you make doodles for even the smallest questions, so thank you💕💕

Yep! Leo in Tentative Devotee is transmasc! (maybe not fully a binary man, but uses the term man still)

1. There will actually be a very brief section in a main comic part for a later story! We're not close to the part where I want to bring it up yet, but for now, a very abridged version of how it went:

Leonardo came out to Donnie first in mid 2012, over a year before he went missing. By the twins' birthday, he was out to everyone.

And yes, Leo's deadname is 'Venus' in this AU! The 'Leo was once Venus' headcanon lives rent free in my brain.

(Also, thank you sm!!! I really love making art for this AU and it's generally hecking fun!! I'm glad you like my stuff!)

Tentative Devotee AU Masterpost

[thecoolsquirrel]

Hi! I’m absolutely in love with your little mermaid AU! The dynamic between adeuce, the princess, and grim is living rent free in my head right now.

Also I’m wondering! Were the three of them childhood friends? And what’s Ace and Deuce “status” like are they also some kind of princes or sons of rich people (or just live in the walls of the castle) or etc

I’m just wondering how the they all became friends in general 👀

THANKYOU FOR THE ASK AND IM GLAD YOURE LIKING THE AU💛💛💛💛💛💛 I dont have a lot of things solidified but heres some thoughts! <3

They're outfits are based off Grimsby and Carlotta theyre outfits where blue and red so it was begging for me to do it so In my head I had them as butlers/workers

But if their parents worked for the royal family,the three of them definitely hanged out and i can see princess being possibly closer to Ace at the time due to Deuce going through his delinquent phase. or maybe deuce and princess dont meet and become friends later on after deuce tries being better 👁️

@/camrastuff had a thought of Ace being a knight or counselor but my knight x princess fixation won't allow it cause then I'll totally forget about Azul

knight Ace is so on the brain and it is on the list of things i need to draw

honestly might do Knight!Deuce just because he seems like that type of person tho

[the-au-collector]

So I’ve realized that the only way I’m going to get my AUs out there is by being annoying about them.

So have this scenario that’s been living rent-free in my brain for months:

Kids

(Wild, Four, Warriors, Hyrule and Twilight are in Legend’s era. They are searching for their kids, who have previously been established to be kidnapped by time-traveling Yiga. The Links have been traveling across Eras, slowly reuniting to let each other know that their kids are lost across time, and are teaming up to find them. Wild, Four, Wars, Hyrule, and Twilight have just reunited with Legend, and are en route to Legend’s house.)

The Links have been discussing various topics, like their kids, and are assuring Legend that his house won’t be too crazy for them to stay at overnight when Legend realizes something.

Legend: Wait how many kids do you think I have?

Wild: well you said kids so, like, two?

Legend: …

Wild: I could see three I guess?

Legend: …

Wild, who has one kid: *with increasing horror* Four?

Legend: …

Wild: *still in horror* higher or lower?

Legend, who really isn’t sure if he should tell them he has 6 kids or if he should let them figure it out for themselves: higher

Wild: Five?

Legend: … higher

Four, unperturbed: Seven?

Legend, who also isn’t sure whether he should tell them he and Ravio will be adopting another kid within the next year: Not yet

So yeah.

During Relinked, Legend and Ravio have 6 kids. They’re all adopted. Knowing what he knows about Hyrule’s era, Legend doesn’t feel right bringing more kids into the world. But if they’re already here and need a place? Well, his Uncle raised him to never turn someone in need down!

Got abandoned by your parents? Come on in! Family slaughtered by wolves? Here’s a home for you, completely safe 100% no wolves at all! Your parents were abusive shitheads? I’m your dad now. Your parents died? Well I know a thing or two about mentors dying I guess, come on in. Parents can’t take care of you? Hell, I have more than enough resources to spare.