#toddler cycling chaos

[tanuandthetriplets]

Triplets Ka Cycle Training!! | Attempt One | Triplets Vlog - 28th Nov'23

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[declamationark]

Would it be funny if the summoning ritual for the ghost king (danny) just cycles through the three dannys cuz they're all technically danny and the magic is going through a bit of a ??? error coding before defaulting to a randomized setting? Like, who do you think you'll get when you summon? Is it the actual ghost king Danny (14, sleep-deprived, sassy, ect), is it Dani/Ellie (technically toddler age, chaos-incarnate, ect) or is it Dan (huge, can throw you into space as a reversed shooting star, destroyed the entire world in a timeline, ect)? Who knows, not even the three do and they keep a board at home with scrawled tally marks and sidenotes where they roast each other

[itgirlgyu]

fallen over, choi beomgyu.

🥥 ﹒ ! (＞人＜;)ᶻz ﹒★ beomgyu x fem!reader.

ꜝ ওফ্ফো  ! WC1072. ₍synopsis: during a sunny evening, whilst running away from your daily existential crisis you understand the importance of exercise. and,

sort of acquaint yourself with a charming fellow with kind of slippery fingers, and the prettiest face you've ever seen.

✫ this is dedicated to my best friend @itz-yerin i hope you like it baby!!!

"Don't mind me guys," you choked out despite trying your best to conceal the fact that your lungs were desperate for a steady source of air going in and out consistently, and letting you know that the lifestyle you had chosen for yourself all this while might be the case of being eaten alive if a zombie apocalypse did end up occurring in the near future.

"Go ahead," you were too focused on making sure your nostrils weren't flaring more than usual than speaking in coherent sentences, "Go!"

Your best friend, albeit initially confused but upon noticing and analysing the hunched over cycle posture and the sweat dripping off your body like a waterfall, had taken her befuddled, and slightly concerned boyfriend for a lap, or four while found a nearby bench to sit down to recollect your breath and think over how to expand your lifespan by a few more years.

Battling the urge to completely abandon the cycle onto the street, you lugged it with you as you crawled to the section with the grass, and collapsed beside the fallen torture device. The exhaustion gradually evaporates off your body like dewdrops under the scorching gaze of sunshine in the mornings of june, as a stealthy serenity sneaks in amidst the chaos of your surroundings, transforming all the clamour into a state of halcyon white noise.

You closed your eyes, allowing the gentle breeze to graze your heated cheeks, adorning you with the fragrances of all the florals it has been carrying. The sunshine played hide and seek with the clouds, drawing an array of inane shapes on your face like a toddler, tickling you with its sparkling mischief.

It felt good; it felt fine, despite the concerns that had kept you awake all night. It felt like you were alive in the moment and that's all that mattered. The blades of grass prickling your back, the June sun showering you with its rays and clouds coming to your aid. The warm gust of wind consoling you as well as the slight droplets of ice cold rain—ice cold rain?

You opened your eyes to uncover the mystery behind the whiplash of the capricious weather but to further push into a frenzy of perplexity, the clear blue yonder mocked you as it boasted an expanse devoid of any dark clouds—but the fog cleared up, and the reason behind the sudden downpour was someone's passionate participation in a topic you couldn't quite over hear. The sugary droplet falling off your cheek, and onto the green blades, only to be replaced with a few more similar ones when the conversation took another swift swerve increasing the ferocity of the words coming out of your assailant's mouth—so fast you were even a lip reader would have to suffer.

A few droplets were already a hassle as they dried off on your cheeks leaving a very sticky residue, but you had to seriously draw the line when the entirety of the popsicle slipped from his fingers and hit you right on your face. Before you could even process the piece of ice that was stuck on your face, you heard the man gasp, followed by another gasp from the person he was arguing with, both of them rushing over to make sure you don't sue—except the other one ran to another direction for some reason.

You should be sitting up by now and giving them an earful and but for some reasons, you couldn't—one of the major one being the fact the twenty minutes you actually enjoyed cycling, and the other half an hour you forced yourself to continue transforming itself into a bothersome back pain, and secondly it was quite amusing your main assailant's slightly long shag hair moving up and down from this angle. Removing the popsicle from your cheek, you tried to sit yourself up.

"Are you okay?!" You attacker crouched down to meet you at your current height. His concerned laced eyes analysed your face before fumbling with his jeans pocket to get his handkerchief out, offering it to you, "I am so sorry for this."

You touched your cheek before accepting the handkerchief to dab it onto your cheek softly putting on a show for him—except water and a good few seconds of rubbing the syrupy consistency wasn't leaving your face. You knew that, he knew that, but the world depends on such unspoken courtesies.

"It's alright." You assured him meekly, focusing more of your energy to get yourself off the ground so you don't seem like a brat—despite it taking a little more that what it takes other people, as in like seconds, you were at least able to get your ass off the ground for a few inches when you noticed the concerned expression glazing over his pretty face, "I was cycling for a few hours so my legs just gave out," you lied.

He nodded and extended his hands for you to take, "I am Beomgyu," He introduced himself, and you gave him your name in return.

"I am sorry for what happened! I promise I will buy you a good cleanser of your-" Before the beautiful man, whose name you had just learned to be Beomgyu, could finish his benevolent promise to take care of any arising skin issues you may face, his friend whom you had deemed to have abandoned his friend in need, came running as though he had something important to announce—conveniently missing the laid out bike on the ground and as a result crashing into Beomgyu's back who in a sick game of domino had fallen over you before he could even process what had hit him.

You cursed under your breath when you clearly heard a few of your spine break, with the added weight of two men laid out on top of you earning the questionable looks from every passerby. You couldn't even complain if you wanted to after all it was your own fault leaving it laid out instead of just properly putting it away on standing.

"I went to go get wet tissue for the blunder you created," The top part of the stack, the runaway friend, groaned while wiggling his way out of the giant dog pile.

"And you couldn't announce it, Taehyun?!" The one directly on top of your stomach croaked before turning to look at you, "I'll pick up a tab of your chiropractor I promise."

COPYRIGHTS RESERVED TO ITGIRLGYU 23'. FEEDBACKS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! PERM' TAGLIST: @impureperhaps @full-sunnies @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @gyuletters

[thisbarbiereallylikesbirds]

Bedtime - A @tmnt-write-fightWrite Fight Attack

mwahaha get attacked @yellowhollyhock

check out the fic on ao3!!

Bedtime in the Hamato household was an…ordeal to say the very least. Attempting to wrestle four hyperactive toddlers into their beds was itself a struggle. But keeping them there? All his training, all the years in the Battle Nexus, nothing could have prepared Splinter for that challenge. But, over the years he'd developed strategies, routines, and a fair amount of tricks to assist him. On good nights, the boys would get the rest they needed. And if he was very, very lucky, he might even get a few hours of sleep himself. 

Tonight was not one of those nights.

The chaos, as always, had started not too long after dinner. Though they offered protection and; maybe best of all, were free, the sewers did little in helping the boys stay clean. So, to keep them from smelling so bad that even their brothers started to notice, daily baths were a must.

Unfortunately, baths took much longer than any of them wanted them to. It was nice that after fighting for hours to get Purple to eat his dinner, he was more than happy to get into the tub. Red and Blue were too, though it was clear that neither of them liked water as much as Purple did. Splinter assumed it had something to do with their turtle species. He’d done some research in the early days to try and figure out what kind of turtles they’d all been before they were mutated. Purple, Blue, and Red were all semi to fully aquatic. Orange was a different story.

No matter how fresh and warm the water was, or how many bubbles and toys Splinter would fill the tub with, Orange would kick and scream like he was being murdered the moment water touched him. On several occasions Splinter had attempted to explain to his youngest that the baths wouldn’t take half as long if he’d just stop struggling, but little Orange didn’t seem to care one bit. 

This particular night had been one of the worst ever. After a particularly long and tiring day, Splinter had hoped that Orange would be too tired to put up much of a fight. Oh how wrong he’d been. After being splashed with so much water it looked like he’d been the one taking the bath, Orange had been wrapped up in a towel and sat in front of the space heater that Purple had built months ago. 

“Okay, boys,” he said, patting his face dry with a towel. “Bedtime.”

Blue was first. There was absolutely, positively no way that he’d be the first to fall asleep, but over the years Splinter had learned that it was better to start the cycle of him waking up and complaining that he couldn’t sleep as soon as possible, and hopefully get it over with at the beginning of the night.

Luckily, Blue allowed his father to tuck him into his racecar bed without much of a fuss, and after bidding his family goodnight (all individually, as he always insisted on doing), he allowed his dad to shut off the lights and continue into the next room.

Next was Orange. In addition to getting Blue’s complaints out of the way early on, sending him to bed also helped get Orange to sleep. Orange absolutely hated the idea that he was being left out of anything. So going to sleep first had always infuriated him. But if there was one thing that would override his insistence on being included, it was copying his brother. To Orange, anything Blue did was the coolest thing ever, even going to sleep early. But, of course, that trick didn’t seem to work tonight.

“I’m not sleepy,” Orange insisted. It was a lie. He hadn’t been able to stop yawning and rubbing his eyes since dinner. And with how fussy he’d gotten, it was clear that Orange was completely drained from the day.

“Just lay down for a bit,” Splinter insisted, tucking another stuffed animal into bed beside him in hopes that it would bribe him into staying put.

“I’m not sleepy,” Orange repeated. “I want to stay up and play with Raph and Donnie.”

“They’re going to sleep right after this,” Splinter explained with as soft of a tone as he could manage. No matter how many times he went over this, Orange always seemed to think that after he was tucked in, the rest of his family would scamper off to go play some fun game 

Splinter sighed. “What would make you tired, Orange?” 

He considered this for a moment, his tiny eyebrows scrunching together. “A cookie?”

“Sugar would make you tired?”

“So sleepy,” Orange said, grinning and nodding his head.

Splinter sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine.”

A cookie, a glass of milk, and a second tuck-in for Blue later, Orange finally allowed himself to be put to bed.

Of all of his sons, Purple was by far the easiest. He didn’t even need to be tucked in. Splinter would just guide him to his room and knew that he’d climb into bed and turn off the lights all by himself. Which was good. Because around this time was Blue’s second appearance.

“Still can’t sleep,” he informed his dad helpfully.

“Have you tried?”

Blue stuck out his tongue.

“Try again.”

As easy as Red was to put up with during the day, night time was a different story. It was clear that his oldest had some problems with worry. Whether it was from being the oldest, or just something that was a part of him, Red seemed to fear that everything could hurt his brothers. And often, if it didn’t spill over during the day first, he would wait until bedtime to voice all of those fears to his father.

“Mikey is really little,” he said quietly.

“Well, he is three,” Splinter responded, pulling the Ghost Bear comforter up to his son’s chin.

“If there was quicksand, he’d fall into it really fast,” he said, voice breaking. His eyes began to water.

“There isn’t any quicksand in the sewers,” Splinter assured him.

“And he wiggles around so much too,” Red said. “It would just take a second and he’d be gone!”

“We’d pull him right back out.”

“But what if we were stuck too,” Red said.

Splinter sighed. This was shaping up to be a long night.

Finally, after assuming Red that each of his brothers would be safe if the Lair were to suddenly flood with quicksand, water, or (for some reason) venomous snakes, he managed to pull himself away and shut the door behind him.

It was still way too early to go to sleep himself, and despite how tired he was, Splinter refused to return to his room just yet. Instead, he returned to the TV room and turned on a telenovela.

A few minutes later, during a particularly dramatic scene, Splinter heard a tiny gasp from beside him. Turning down to look, he saw Blue’s tiny face illuminated by the TV.

“What are you doing up?” Splinter asked.

“I. Couldn’t. Sleep.” he said, clearly just as tired of answering the question as Splinter was of asking it. His eyes flicked back to the TV screen as the main character delivered a slap across her mother-in-law’s face. “Can I watch?” he asked.

Defeated, Splinter pulled him up onto his lap. “You can listen, while you try to sleep,” he said. “Now close your eyes.”

An episode and a half later, Blue had finally drifted off. Splinter’s hand absent-mindedly rubbed the back of his son’s shell as he looked down at his sleeping form. 

It was true that bedtime was…a struggle. But, if they went to sleep as easily as he sometimes wished they would, they wouldn't get to spend nearly as much time together. And they wouldn’t have moments like this. Moments with just one of his sons. Moments where he thought maybe he was doing an okay job being a dad.

Things would get stressful again tomorrow, they always did. But chaos was a part of his family. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

[sagelasters]

Ignore what doesn't align with you

Honestly doubts and negative thoughts is something everyone has, especially when you start getting into the law of assumption, and or you’ve been taught limited beliefs your whole life. I am a person who believes that your past doesn’t determine who you are, at least if you don’t let it. Growth is uncomfortable and requires stepping out of your comfort zone, it is something you constantly have to do in your journey. Now, it is not supposed to be stressful or hard being in the fulfilled state. It shouldn’t be making you feel sick or upset either, and you might need to reevaluate your self concept if it does. I needed to make that clear before I go into the subject I’m supposed to talk about today. 

Now, how do I deal with doubts and intrusive thoughts?

I set out a mission for myself and it’s just simply me assuming that I wake up in the void every night. And I’m naturally a very anxious person, a part of me always panics every time I don’t physically try to do something (forcing myself to do awake methods, even though they’re not very compatible with me). I am used to the mindset of having to work hard for my wishes, which hinders the mental process of feeling fulfilled. But I slowly realized that why the fuck would it be hard? I am literally in control of my own reality so, why should I stress over something trivial like this?

I felt silly so slowly, I started ignoring the thoughts that no longer served me, treating it like an annoying pest who kept whispering in my ears. It’s kind of like Eddie and Venom, in which you have two different beings in one body; the physical being and the spiritual being. Of course, Venom at the beginning was a big ball of chaos and kept prompting Eddie to make unwanted actions. It wasn’t until they found a common ground to settle on, that they decided to learn how to work together. When you learn to leave those doubts alone and let it drift away, instead of fighting it; you will feel much better. 

Don’t overthink, just because you can’t see it in 3D doesn’t mean your desires aren’t there. Your “failed” attempts never existed, erase and ignore what does not align with your assumptions. You are meant to have that desire because why else would you want it? You have a spiritual connection with that desire, and that’s fucking magical. The universe operates in many layers and oftentimes, our simple senses can’t see what’s moving behind the scene. Physicality is the last level and will only manifest when the inner you accepts it. 

And just because it didn’t happen quicker than you want, IT’S OKAY. You getting what you want is inevitable and what’s the worst case scenario? You abandoning the whole process, that’s the worst thing to ever happen. Don’t rely on the 3D and let yourself be enslaved by it. A god will never allow themself to be confined in a cage. A god is an entity of its own, and listens to no one but themself. A god knows what they are capable of and never doubt their powers.

That god is you.

So quit avoiding and fighting, it's like a never ending battle against yourself. It's only a cycle when you let yourself get stuck, and I know that it feels uncomfortable at first, but you will get used to it slowly. A toddler can't walk on its own unless it learns to, doesn't matter how many tries it took them. Birds soared the horizons because they had the courage to fly.

[rosetyler42]

Some fun with Lucy, Simon, and my pal @lovelylivelyv 's Bent Halos shipchild OC, Jack Nephalem!

1 and 2: Some sparring sessions between Lucy and Jack. Since Jack lives in The Cycle where creatures sometimes attack no matter who you are and Lucy having learned self defense from her parents (and being half monster, I thought it might be fun to play with these two friends sparring together. Both of them being Addams-esque cartoony monster hybrids, I figured they'd be the type to playfully rib eachother while sparring. First shows Hijack pinning Lucy down and making a Beetlejuice/Dark revival joke while Lucy calls him a dork, and Lucy unleashing her inner Ericka (and Gomez) pinning Jack to the ground and critiquing his form. Jack responds with an animation/"Not in the book" joke. Don't worry, he's fine. Matter of fact, he likes having a gal pal who can throw him around and is 500% not scared of him.

Bonus: Imagine this with their voice claims: Alex Brightman from the musical Beetlejuice (Jack) and Sarah Sherman from SNL (Lucy.) Also, heck yes Bendy, Alice, Ericka, Possibly Drac, Mavis, and the rest of the Ink Fam are watching this and cheering on their kids like the proud parents/family members they are.

3. Simon gets in on the sparring session! He takes things much more seriously than his sister and relies more on strength, weapons, and strategy than martial arts or acrobatics. but accepts his pal Jack's friendly playful jibes, even though he's more focused on whether Jack can break through his hold. I reference a later pic here, Since Simon is a big shy good boi who's secretly badass, I show Jack commenting on his improvement from being scared as a kid by saying "Boris grew up to be Brute Boris."

Bonus: I finally came up with a possible Simon Voiceclaim: David Cross.

4. Jack and Lucy singing Kyle Allen's Recording Town! This is somewhat inspired by going through @creation-help 's posts while listening to it. Thought this would be fun to draw these two playful dramatic fucks singing this song. I could see them knocking it out of the park. This was kind of an interesting pose to crack since Lucy is 6' 2" as an adult and Toon!Jack is only 5 feet. It basically works due to toon strength, wings, and Lucy being able to levitate. (Bonus: Simon grows to 6' 4". Ericka and Drac are BREEDIN' for tall here.)

5. Some Boss Baby AU fun with toddler Jack trying to teach a pre-fangy Lucy and Simon how to scare. Somewhat inspired by the Beetlejuice musical song "Fright Night" and a joke I made on Discord with @lovelylivelyv .

6. Wanted to draw some fluff between Lucy and Jack with Lucy using her claws to help preen Jack's wings. I like drawing these two together, they're very similar in personality with Jack kinda being something of an inspiration for my Lucy. They're a couple of brave rebellious fun-loving chaos balls and I love them.

@lovelylivelyv @hotelt-resurrection @deathfangirl9 @black-ak9 @ssleeping-in-a-coffin @roydoodler-blog @doberart @thedopedemon @thedemonsurfer @inkypotato @inkhyaena @inkspottie @serial-serializednovelreader @wingingfromthezing @howling-nightmare

[ozzietherandom]

my opinions on earthspark S2(at the moment) and ideas that I’ve had

so yeah I can’t get over the starscream thing so I might rant again in this one but yeah whatever

⚠️spoilers under the cut!⚠️

so I feel like they kinda lost the Og premise because hasbro wanted to do the same thing again.

I know starscream wouldn’t just magically become good because he could relate to someone younger but I don’t like what hasbro did, so it’s always like if starscream gets redeemed he fiddlsticking dies, if he stays bad he fiddlsticking dies, continues the cycle, or he continues to get abused(or all three of those however way you wanna put it)

I think the chaos Terrans were a bit bland, like yeah they can have bad characteristics and bad influences but bro they’re toddlers, you can’t just say a toddler is evil/bad, they don’t understand what they’re doing or why/how it’s wrong. The difference between the Terrans and the chaos Terrans are like two sides of the same coin in my opinion, born of the emberstone, hurt or manipulated by the ones they thought they could trust, all died at least once or more by now.

I thought Robby and his crush were cute, and I’m down with it

I’m curious to if frenzy went back to soundwave(SW) or not because yeah we see a few of the other minicons with SW.

ideas time :3

I feel like people don’t want another animated/sari incident but I kind of wanna see how it’d be handled in our time because i find it an interesting concept, I see a few ways of doing it, bodily mutilation(more likely in fanfics or the comics), maybe someone accidentally getting an ember-shard stuck in their skin or smt.

(I feel sick rn and I haven’t eaten all day so this is it :,>)

[noorthehood]

Until You • 04

Miguel O'Hara/Reader

Ch. 01 Here

Ch. 02 Here

Ch. 03 Here

Faster updates on Ao3!

With a glimpse of a futuristic cityscape and an encounter with a Spiderman seemingly much different from the one you’re used to, you unknowingly find yourself thrust into a web of intrigue and danger as the very fabric of space and time is warping. Who will you trust?

........………………………….…………………......................

“Eight thousand fifty six…Eight thousand fifty seven…Eight thousand fifty eight…”

The voice reverberates from the screen on Miguel’s left, each count punctuated by the sound of a ball hitting a ceiling. He closes his eyes, trying to get the tension in his back to dissipate as he takes a deep breath, hands resting flat on the desk he’s leaning onto.

“She’s been going at it since she woke up.” Miguel finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of fatigue, eyes still shut in an attempt to ease the strain.

Jessica crosses her arms and glances at the screen, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “I’m sure she’ll tire herself out eventually,” she offers, trying to sound optimistic.

“That’s what I said too.” He looks at her from over his shoulder. “Three hours ago.”

Her eyes widened.

“She lost count around the three thousand mark and decided to just start over again.” Miguel explains, a mix of disbelief and resignation in his tone. “Looks like she's determined to reach ten thousand, for reasons only she knows.”

He lowers his voice.

“She’s aware I can hear her, Jess. It’s psychological warfare.”

“Well,” Jessica mumbles, shaking her head in bemusement. “At least you only have two thousand to go.”

Approaching the screen with cautious curiosity, Jessica’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she takes in the bizarre sight before her. The live feed revealed a plain, minimally furnished room, where the young woman lay flat on the floor, engrossed in her repetitive task. With each count, she throws a small ball up towards the ceiling, only to catch it and start the cycle anew. But that was not the only thing that caught Jessica’s attention.

“Is that—”

“Paint? Yeah.” Miguel responded with a sarcastic smile, running his hands down his face, exhaustion etched on his features. “Lyla said we should give her something to pass the time with. Quickly backfired, as you can see.”

Jessica's gaze shifts back to the live feed, where every wall of the room aside from the windows were covered in a riot of colors. Abstract shapes and bold splashes of paint adorned every inch, creating a chaotic tapestry of creativity—or chaos, rather. The room, once plain and bare, had transformed into a vibrant canvas, as if a feral toddler had been let loose with tubes of acrylic paint.

“And…how long did you say she’s been in there?” She asks as the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the ceiling continues.

“Few days. Three, four maybe.” Miguel responds before Lyla promptly interjects with a correction.

“Seven, actually. Seven too many.”

Jessica’s jaw drops, and she immediately turns to face Miguel with an incredulous frown.

“Seven days? You’ve been keeping her in that room for a whole week?” She exclaims in disbelief. “No wonder the girl’s lost her mind! Are you insane?”

“It’s not like we’re keeping her hostage, Jess, she has nowhere else to go—”

“Is her door locked?”

He stays silent for a moment, then sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Then you might as well call her your prisoner.” She scoffs.

“It’s for her own safety. I have to monitor her status while figuring out a way to get her and the other one back to wherever they came from.” Miguel continues. “I’m not doing this for the fun of it, I’m trying to help them."

Jessica adjusts her goggles and places a hand on her hip as he settles on a nearby chair. That man truly had a strange way to go about things.

“How’s the other one?” She asks with a sigh.

Miguel shakes his head.

“Still comatose. But at least she’s quiet.”

He leans back in his chair, eyes fixed on the live feed from the room where the young woman continued her repetitive task.

"You know, I've been trying to figure out what happened," He begins, his voice tinged with frustration. "I've studied the data, analyzed the machine—”

“Carmen.” Lyla chimes in.

“Yes, thank you Lyla—analyzed Carmen, reviewed all footage... But I’ve got nothing."

Jessica nodded, her gaze focused on Miguel as he continued.

"And their resistance to the glitches, even without wearing the gizmo— that’s what’s most baffling to me." Miguel explains, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Everything we knew about the interdimensional travel process suggests that without that bracelet, they should have been affected by the dimensional inconsistencies."

"But they haven’t," Jessica mused, her brows furrowing in thought. "So, what does that mean?"

Miguel slightly shrugged, his exhaustion evident in his posture. "I wish I knew. It's like they defy the rules, the very laws of the multiverse. I've never seen anything like it."

He leans forward, his gaze fixed on the screen displaying the woman in the paint-covered room.

"I've considered every possibility, every hypothesis," Miguel continued. "But nothing seems to explain their resistance to the glitches, or why the go-home machine fails to send her—and only her— back."

He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words as he stands up to face her.

“I’m at a dead-end, Jess. Seriously.” Miguel admits in a voice marked with a touch of hopelessness, like a confession of his limitations. “I need your help.”

Jessica uncrosses her arms, her expression softening as she takes in the sincerity in his plea. She knows him well enough to understand that for him to ask for help, he must be truly at his wit's end.

"What the hell do you think I can do that you haven’t been able to figure out? You’re the scientist here,” A hint of skepticism laces her words.

“I’m just a biologist, Jess. There’s only so much I can do.” Miguel retorts. “I need you to ask around, talk to people. You know that’s not my forte.”

“That I know.” Jessica sighs again as she looks up at him.

It was unlike him to show vulnerability, much less ask for help . The man was a logistician, driven by pragmatism, often making decisions based on calculated outcomes rather than emotions. His actions could sometimes lack rationality, but deep down, Jessica knew that feelings were not his strong suit. He had cultivated a reputation for prioritizing the greater good, even if it meant making difficult sacrifices—the type of man who would surrender one individual if it meant saving ten others. But something about the woman on the screen seemed to stir an uncharacteristic side of him, disrupting his usual clarity.

Was he worried ?

“Listen. I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m busy enough as is with the wedding prep and the whole Spider-Woman thing.” She preemptively raises a finger as he opens his mouth to keep him from interrupting. “ But …I’ll see what I can do. I just can’t guarantee how long it’ll take.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Miguel's lips, the tension momentarily lifting from his shoulders. "Thanks, Jess. I knew I could count on you."

She raises an eyebrow playfully as she tinkers on her gizmo, preparing to go back on the field. "Don't get too sentimental on me, now. I'm only doing this to keep you from bringing the mood down on missions with your…domestic problems."

He chuckles lightly. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

As if on cue, an interdimensional portal materializes in the middle of the spacious lab. Jess swiftly mounts her bike, her movements a testament to her expertise. With a flick of her foot, she kicks up the kickstand using the back of her heel, and the engine purrs to life.

"In return," she shouts over the cacophony of the revving engine and the ongoing interdimensional racket, "do me a favor and let that poor girl get some fresh air, alright? She's not a puzzle to be solved or a lab rat…just a woman with poor luck." Her words carry a touch of concern. "I know you mean well, but we don't want her developing Stockholm syndrome, yeah? This is supposed to be the good guys HQ, not Alcatraz ."

Miguel reluctantly nods. She has a point.

“Oh, and Miguel?” Jess puts her bike in gear and revs her engine.

He raises an eyebrow and flinches at the loud noise. “What?”

She smiles.

“Looks like she just lost count again.”

........………………………….…………………......................

A.N: A slightly shorter chapter to kick off the weekend!

Just laying some groundwork, I promise we'll be getting a lot more Miguel/YN interactions from now on.

Let me know how we feel about this update pacing (shorter chapters/faster updates or longer chapters/not-as-fast updates?)

See ya soon for more! As usual faster updates on Ao3!

Ch. 05

[waythroughtheice]

One of the best parts of Geo Wily is that Luna will eventually show up.

I can't decide if its funnier if she ignores the cult completely or starts trying to organise them so Geo can actually go to school. She definitely doesn't really blame him in this universe.

She's seen what they can do when Geo isn't holding the toddler leash. (He had a sick day.) They would have broken all of the transportation infrastructure if they didn't get a wheezy call from "boss" telling them to knock it off. This was a couple years ago. Who knows what they'd do now.

If Luna just. Casually ignores them there'd be shenanigans involving the Cult trying to recruit an entire school. Luna'd have enemies.

If she helps organise the Cult the cult thinks they're all dating. Geo has a poly? Dating a superstar girl too? Okay. Kid has skills. (Geo only learns they think this several years later.) But hey. They also listen to his friends now?

When the cult finds out about Megaman they are super supportive about "stealing your enemies' name!" Less supportive about the superhero bit. Mostly because he's being chased by cops already. Why is he making it worse. The cult declares Zero (I hope that's the name Kazuma uses. I might be guessing wrong. Limited knowledge) their enemy arount this time. Balance semi restored.

No matter what all happens Wily is insistent that this is all according to his plan. (There is no plan. Wily is a liar. Wily is just glad his kid has friends his own age.)

Hope knows about none of this. Kelvin was very careful to keep her away from the Cult. She has made friends with the Cultists that drop Geo off regularly. She thinks they're Kelvin's cousins. Geo is sufferig with knowledge. The Cult behaves when Hope is arount. Help Geo. Please?

Omega-Xis and Wily teach these kids swears. They are horrible influences. Tom gets adopted by Wily and the cult. Geo only hears little stories. Geo does not know what is actually happening and asks the Cult to keep him safe from any rivals. Making it worse. Viscous cycle. Boreal keeps increasing security but they "kEEP GETTING IN THEY'RE LIKE ANTS I SWEAR! Oh hey Geo. Can you do something? It usually gets better for a bit when I talk to you. Because today Tom got-" it takes years for everyone to figure it out.

Geo still area hops. Confusing every cop keeping and ear out for the Wily heir. Copper is the only one not worried about plans. Copper has seen Geo yell at his cult that he has no words and then lecture them about not causing chaos for four hours. Copper at this point has seen some shit.

The Cult (and Wily) only really get dissapointed in Geo and Co. when they work for the police in three. And even then The Cult also does not want a meteor to the face so they can deal with it *cue another four hour Geo lecture.*

Kazuma should help with the meteor. I just think it'd be funny if they met while neither was ripping the other's name to shred by mistake. Bonding.

Solo is still normal Solo. The cult wants him. The cult will never get him. They want the rival on their side damn it!

Sorry just now I'm invested. (God fucking damn it I already have things to do.)

LOLOL

Okay, so--

I think Luna would regard Geo as a rival. Think of it! He has so many supporters already, and actually Luna discourages Geo from going to school (Geo never goes back to public school in this verse, too busy with homeschooling multiple grades ahead and his rivalry with one Kazuma Hikari.) They get into shenanigans with each other, and Luna decides she wants a cult following of her own. (The world trembles.)

The cult is so supportive of the tiny Boss. He's doing the Great Wily SO PROUD! He's stealing the enemy's name, taking all their supporters.....more people for the cult! They sell merchandise. Geo is appalled.

When Zero shows up (you got it!), they at first fight then become best friends. The cult decides Kazuma Hikari is absolutely the tiny Boss's right hand man. Look at the tiny boss go, subverting the enemy!

Hope is blissfully unaware of the chaos. The Cult loves her and her glorious cooking and baking. Geo is dying in the background.

Omega-Xis and Wily are best friends, in the vein of two old men cackling together in a back room. Yes yes yes to the swears, and yes to Tom getting adopted--Boreal also gets adopted. No he has no say why would he have a say?

Geo area hops, and the Cult is Confused but Very Supportive of his speed. He's expanded their reach! Look at his initiative! They follow wherever he goes, only to find him gone already. Oh well, guess it's time to start recruiting and sell merchandise......

They're disappointed at first until they realize the tiny Boss can destroy the police from within! Such initiative!

Kazuma is helping with the meteor. Such a terror. The Cult loves their right-hand man.

Solo is the lone sane man along with Geo. Geo and Solo meet up for drinks (read, soda) and to commiserate about their lives.

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

Similer to the IDW universe does there exist a wider alien community, not just cybertronians? Like the galactic councel, that group black block con-something,...if yes, what will they think of the humans, since in idw organic spicies feared and hated cybernetic spieces (cough*cybertronians*cough) and cybers (mostly) didn't care for them.

Given how big the universe is, there most definitely is some larger community.

In OUAT, cybertronians would likely be viewed as oversized toddlers by fellow aliens. The mess that no one really wants to deal with. The neighbors and everyone else are just side-eyeing and blaming tanking housing prices on. Just, stay on your side of the fence, please? And try not to blow up the universe while you're at it? The annual potluck is in five solar cycles and Jenny's bringing her wovlerdesh casserole. So good the recipe was used in a peace treaty, and then the food was requested in another planet's trade agreement. If you can't play nice just stay in the yard and let the adults enjoy life's casserole, dang it!

So the galactic policy is "we aren't touching that with a 10-light-year-long pole!"

The policy works pretty well and cybertronains, the obnoxious and arrogant species they are, don't really notice.

I'd imagine the galactic community didn't know about Earth, or maybe they did and were waiting for the best time to approach until we fully reached out to the stars, or until we calmed down on interplanetary warfare, or maybe they were coming until Cybertronians started flocking to the mudball planet and friggen Unicron is part of-?!?!?

So, Earth was basically written off as "do not approach."

I'd imagine the organic side of the galactic community is reasonably freaked out by the cyber formation of a previously organic world, while the cybernetic is discerningly curious. One side could see it as a threat to themselves and their worlds, what would stop that devastating weapon from being turned on them? Would they be enslaved? Reformated? Intergrated against their will? The cybernetic have less to lose, it's not so much an identity issue, as the potential for a new galactic power being born. One created from a race they might see as unnecessarily violent (millennia-long war anyone?) but born from a world seeded by an embodiment of chaos.

Humanity is just frothing at the mouth and clawing at the stars in an effort to reclaim their lost.

When alternative aliens come across a lone human, they send them back to Earth with some of Jenny's casserole. The policy was quickly updated to flatter and plan contingencies for an inevitable human empire.

[yallmakemyassitch]

Chapter 1 - Insomnia (I'll Never Leave Your Side)

Summary: AGOTI is woken up by a nightmare and seeks comfort from his adoptive father. Solazar doesn't hesitate to attempt to make his child feel better but realizes the only way he can is quite... unconventional. Even after doing so, the night was filled with wonder as the two embark on an adventure...

Word count: 10,764

Character count: 60,904

Tobi talks: This was meant to come out much earlier so apologies for the late upload folks, I had to do some extra proof reading and corrections. This is a passionate project that took nearly two years to create (created back in 8/30/2021) and it's still ongoing! You won't have to wait such a long time as I have spent time on future chapters as well so those will be published much sooner rather than later. Be aware that just because this chapter is void of anything graphic or disturbing does not mean future chapters will not have mature themes present. Please enjoy the story and I thank you wholeheartedly for reading~♡

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49247710/chapters/12426553

A love letter to the ENTITY crew and its creator @sugarratio1

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Vigorous winds blew within the small confinements of the city and it had everyone cooped up in their homes to escape the harsh weather. It was booming and traveled well into the night, spilling into everyone’s nightly routine as the tiny town quieted down. Life had become stagnant, branches were pulled by the wind, and small puddles accumulated on the roads, undisturbed by the lack of roaring vehicles that would quickly cause them chaos. Contrary to popular belief, thunderstorms weren’t as aesthetically pleasing to everyone.

Inside a humble house inhabited a family of three, both children of which were fast asleep. One struggled, however. He was the youngest out of the nest, squirming in his sleep to try to escape the uncomfortable heat taking over his body. The digidevil child, Agoti, had patterns of sweat stitched into his forehead. With his blanket held hostage, he had no clue where his consciousness had taken him.

“Get away…” He mewled, turning on his side.

Agoti’s dream was shrouded in black, himself being the only thing visible in his nightmare. But there were voices, impish voices taunting him . The child couldn’t even begin to think how the tormentors he met only a day ago got into his head. But that wasn’t very important as they belittled the digidevil, mocking him even more when he began to cry. No matter how frantically he searched for the source of the voices, they couldn't be found.

“Leave me alone!” He cried one final time.

Tears were beginning to leak from his eyes, his whimpers soft and anguished. Agoti fell to his knees and curled up into a ball. “Daddy...Aldie…help me.”

But nobody came. That was soon to change, Agoti was jolted out of his nightmare by the loud clap of lightning. He wrenched up from his bed with an audible gasp. The moment he opened his eyes, he felt afraid. The fear bubbling in his chest built up into a scream he shrieked into the night, his high-pitched and terrified wail muffled by the natural boom of thunder.

His eyes were wide with alarm and what would normally be rivers of salty water spilling from his eyes were strips of VHS film. He was in shock, sitting erect and still from the raw terror circulating his body. The images of his nightmare cycled through his mind and the violent thunderstorm distressing him more as the seconds ticked by drove his quivering lip to release the cries building up the painful lump in his throat.

The toddler’s weeps were loaded with whimpers and snotty hiccups. He tried so desperately to palm away the tears streaming down his face, but alas, they did not relent. His hazy vision stared into the darkness of his bedroom, flinching every time lightning struck and momentarily showed the stark white interior of the room before reverting back to black.

The glowing stars plastered on the ceiling above his bed brought him no level of comfort. Agoti's gaze flickered next to him to his tear-stained stuffed bear. Without hesitation, he grabbed the animal and sought protection under the covers. His face was buried into its soft fur while fresh, hot tears ran free. His sobbing was uncontrollable, squeaking when lightning roared outside as he could never brace himself in time.

Like many young children, Agoti would have trouble sleeping in the dark. His beloved father had noticed his struggles and gifted the boy a nightlight to help soothe him during the night. But right now he couldn’t handle it alone.

The digidevil waited for another minute, anxiously anticipating the sound of the door opening and being met by the gentle glow of his father. Or if he was lucky, his older sister would come through and snuggle under the sheets with him. Both options sounded lovely, so he waited. It soon became apparent after a few minutes none of that was happening. It was only a muffled rainstorm and teddy bear as his friends during this dire time. Terrified to death, he lifted his head out from under his sheets, his hot cheeks streaking with tears.

He wouldn’t get anywhere by calling for them again, the outside cacophony made that feat impossible. The 4-year-old, with shaky hands, slipped off his bed and plopped down on the carpet, leaving his animal friend behind.

Even at his young age, Agoti was unusually small, he couldn’t reach most things that children his age could. Most of what he couldn’t reach was doorknobs, so his father was committed to leaving the door ajar for him to leave at night less a situation similar to his current or if a late-night bathroom break was needed.

He stuck his hand in between the gap and slowly opened the wooden door, grimacing as it moaned along its hinges. Agoti peeked out slowly, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread that made his blood run once in contact with the darkness outside his room.

With this new revelation, Agoti knew he wouldn’t be able to enter the corridor without any… ‘reinforcements’.

The stars above his bed replaced the general use of his nightlight by a long shot and he didn’t have to use it much anymore. But he did keep it and remembered leaving it in his drawer. He turned his attention back inside to the piece of furniture on the other side of the room. The demon walked up to it and sorted through the top section of random junk, eventually hitting something firm and around.

He grabbed it and felt along its side to flick it to life, holding it with both hands. Agoti had to squint when its warm light hit his eyes but adjusted well enough to make out its features. Silk silicon layered the rotund exterior and two ears poked out the top to give it the authentic look of a rabbit.

He left the comfortable quarters of his bedroom after assuring himself his father was just down the hall. Unfortunately for him, he had unluckily directly stepped on a weak floorboard. The sharp squeal made the digidevil jump a foot into the air, snapping his head down so quickly it made him dizzy. Realizing it was just the floor made him sigh out in relief, not doing much to quell the anxieties that prickled at the nape of his neck.

Agoti began to trek down the hallway, it felt much longer than what he experienced during the day. His senses were running on overdrive, acutely aware of every sound surrounding him. Each breath that entered and exited his lungs, the rapid clattering of rain on their roof, the creaking sounds along the floor where he walked, all served to make the experience as sinister as possible.

Then he heard it.

A creak not from his own doing, coming from just behind him.

Agoti whipped around, holding the nightlight right in front of him. He hesitated but ultimately approached the weak floorboard where the noise had resonated.

There was nothing there.

His vision was superior to most species compared to his, but even he struggled to see what was in front of him. Agoti focused and scrutinized the darkest depth of the hallway, seeming to stretch infinitely from where he was standing.

He looked a little harder and that’s when he dropped the only thing that could protect him. He swore he saw a figure move in the dark.

Agoti grabbed it from the ground and quickened his pace, his little feet pattering across the ground. It was enough to finally make it, his hand trembling as he knocked and didn’t dare to move the light hovering over the patch of darkness. The wait was agonizing and the more he glanced back, the more threatened he felt, like a looming presence was steadily approaching him each time he briefly looked away.

Agoti knocked harder, beating his small fist into the wooden door, crying out for his father. The demon could only hope the man would come sooner. After all, who knows what was really in this hallway?

…

The chamber’s only nuance within the stygian and static environment was a bizarre blue figure sitting quietly, holy light shedding from their body. The man with every rapid and accurate keystroke of his fingertips connecting with the keyboard occasionally stopped to sip his coffee. The black kind was his favorite, it being his number-one assistant in getting through the hazy nights made of nothing but raw work ethic. But if he was feeling generous, he would add some cream or sugar to it.

The man lived this lifestyle for numerous decades and it still caused him to call into question how he got here. Sure, he could recall the precise events that landed him as an Earth dweller. But they felt so surreal, it was such an abrupt shift from who he was then.

That didn’t stop him from adapting, however.

Whilst taking out another paper to file and beginning to write on it, he stopped mid-stroke of his cursive handwriting. Solazar began to think, his thoughts were interfered by a flood of memories. It was practically routine at this point for him to take time out of every day to reflect.

Solazar descended from an ancient race named the Solarisapiens, densely populated with murderous, god-like star entities. They were the next of kin from the gods themselves and what they would do struck terror throughout the universes. And after eons of bloodshed, one of them suddenly becomes a father of two. If it had been during war, his high social standing as a commander created to lead these bloody crusades would sink to the furthest level. Solazar would be looked down upon and ridiculed, distinguished with a flaw that hadn’t been noticed by their oversight; it wasn’t in their programming to care about mortals. The brutal punishment afterward was something he had only personally witnessed, but it left an impression on his fellow warriors if they dared to be so incompetent in their purpose. He did train them to be merciless and obedient, but to be reduced to such putty was a fault he held against himself. Their fate was sealed the moment their betrayal came to light. It didn’t happen often but when it did, certain procedures would be initiated.

The ceremony that took place was meant to purge the warrior of the humanity they gained, to give them a second chance. But at a cost.

The Solarisapien would have their limbs dismembered and every single one of them was catapulted out into the deepest, most treacherous parts of the universe. They may only return after regaining the members of their body, to prove their loyalty to their purpose. Those days were cruel but over, the war was ended, and while the blood on his hands had washed away, he reminds himself often they haven’t faded. Not yet at least.

Solazar was aware of the risks of fathering mortals. He had grown fond of them and their antics, he had grown to even love them. This was despite his specific design created for being an unfeeling monster, Earth somehow changed him in such a way he had the ability to love. Solazar accepted their fates a long time ago; everything would die eventually, he just wouldn’t be a part of it. For each day the sun still shines, he would cherish the chaos and laughter his children have brought into his life.

Solazar despised self-pity, but even he had to admit his own fate was the worst out of any painful way to die. He is forced to walk along this mortal plane, created to fight for all eternity, and no longer supported the reason for it, so what were his goals now? The death of his children would strip him of his purpose as a father, foraging a path down an existential crisis-

What was he doing?

There were better things to worry about.

He blinked once, snapping him out of his trance, and realized the tip of his pen left stiff by his hand accumulated a glob of ink on his sheet, leaving a noticeable stain on his pristine handwriting. Solazar rubbed his eyes, sighing deeply. He blinked again, now putting down the pen to massage his face with both of his hands.

‘Goodness that stings,’ He thought to himself.

Needle-like sensations have been shanking into his eyes for the past several hours. Staring so hard at his screen because he was so adamant about his work wasn’t healthy. Yet again, he disregarded his doctor’s warning, it was no wonder why he was farsighted. Short spurts of shut eyes did the job of replenishing his drive, so the fiery being leaned back in his chair to take a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Infinite energy meant the man didn’t sleep, so ever since he crashed onto Earth, he would spend his time running errands. Even though the specimen was quite intelligent, it landed him a not so revered job as a music manager. The man admired music, how humans were able to craft a piece made with skill and passion was a beautiful thing to him. Unfortunately, many of the clients he had to work with have proven themselves as either incompetent in their jobs or bailouts. With his constant failures, it made creating a profit difficult so he would often live paycheck to paycheck. It was just enough for his children and their home so he didn’t dwell into it.

Solazar pushed himself back to give the desk and himself some space in between them. He folded his hands together and placed the interlocked hands on his lap after crossing his leg over the other. He closed his eyes and started to softly hum, mindlessly humming to no one in the room other than himself. It helped him relax.

That’s when the former warrior was interrupted by thumping on his door.

“Hm?” He pondered aloud, looking behind him to lock eyes with the wooden door. He knew exactly who it was based on the squeamish pleads on the other side. Solazar, with steady haste, got up on his two feet and opened the door. His gaze instantly dropped to the ground to see Agoti, his youngest, at his heels. Before he could react, the small child dropped what he was holding and hugged his leg, crying.

The incomprehensible blubber sputtering through his lips caused the man’s hardened gaze to soften. Agoti looked up at him with big, glossy eyes, stretching out his little arms and grabbing at the air, beckoning the man to hold him.

“Did the storm wake you?” He spoke in a low voice and kneeled down in front of him, opening his arms to give him access to his embrace. The demon was quick to fall into his arms, bawling so hard he could hardly say a word.

He nodded quickly, “M-mhm.” the toddler whined, clutching onto his torso. “I had a... *sniff* a really bad dream.”

“So you had a nightmare?”

“Uh- *hic* huh. I was scared, Daddy. No one was there…”

His father’s eyes slit into a sympathetic gaze and pulled the demon closer into his arms, “Shhshh, it’s okay. I’m here for you.” he hushed, slowly rubbing his back.

The warmth he had ached for crowned his body in a soothing heat and his nerves strayed once his flesh made contact, reminding him of the familiar buzz that came with his father’s touch. Solazar stayed there for a while, patting the back of his head while continuing to calm him down.

The child’s shivering slowed down to a halt when his body melted from the affection. He glanced at the glowy object on the ground and picked it up with one hand, holding Agoti in his other arm.

“Ah, you used the nightlight I gave you.” He mused, inspecting the tool in his hand.

He nodded, still sniffling.

“That’s alright, I gave it to you for a reason. Do you like it?”

Agoti seemed to hesitate before nodding his head again.

He peered at him, consumed in thought before speaking up. “Maybe it could be brighter next time?”

“Mhm.” He heard Agoti mumble into his chest.

“Then I’ll look for a special one, just for you.” The Solarisapien gave him a tight side hug, which had Agoti’s face squished up against his.

The warmth he had ached for crowned his body in a soothing heat and his nerves strayed once his flesh made contact, reminding him of the familiar buzz that came with his father’s touch. Solazar stayed there for a while, patting the back of his head while continuing to calm him down.

Solazar flicked it off and left the nightlight where it was, and stood up, holding the toddler as he walked back inside his room. He closed the door behind him and sat down on his unused bed and placed the digidemon on his lap. The room had been nearly pitch black at this point, minus his blue flames and still-illuminated laptop at his desk. He reached his hand toward the nightstand to pull the string hung under the hood of the lamp and gave it a tug, now able to properly see him.

“So tell me about this nightmare of yours.” He questioned calmly, looking thoughtfully at his adopted son.

“It was the b-boys from the playground.” Agoti mewled, “T-they were h-hurting me and-” he began to cry again, recalling the terrifying dream. “They said they would hurt me if I told anyone!” The Solarisapien quietly listened to his dilemma, stroking the top of his head to calm him.

“It was only a dream, okay? Anyone who tries to intimidate our family will have to go through me first,” He said assuringly, however, Agoti didn’t take much of a liking to this.

“They sounded like monsters and were really scary! D-don’t you remember yesterday?”

Solazar did in fact remember yesterday, it was an especially terrible day for Agoti. He managed to get cornered by two older children while at the playground with his sister. They went as far as to get physical and destroyed his favorite toy in front of him. This was the first time anything like this had ever happened to him, so it gave him quite the scare. Luckily Aldryx eventually found him and terrorized them both into submission and managed to escape before any on-sight parents got involved.

Solazar admits the outcome would have been much better if he was present, his poor son came home sobbing and he had to promise to get him another toy to stop the tears. But as expected, the parents of the bullies would come to his door, complaining about their ‘innocent’ children coming home mysteriously bruised. Solazar wasn’t having any of it and proceeded to verbally rip them to shreds, insulting every part of their subpar parenting, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed them off his property.

He tried to sympathize. "I remember, Agoti, and I know it was scary, but-”

“NO YOU- *hic* don’t!” Agoti started to fuss, his cries intertwined with a hiccuping fit. He mewled after his outcry, putting his face in his hands as Solazar rubbed his back.

“I do know, Agoti.” Solazar uttered, gingerly thumbing a tear off his face, “Try to calm down, okay? Breathe for me.” he said it in the softest tone he could muster, but it barely helped.

“I tried to find you but I couldn’t!” Agoti sobbed.

As if the situation couldn’t escalate anymore, the 4-year-old began to hyperventilate. Solazar could feel his VHS heart pounding against his ribs repeatedly. At this rate, the digidemon would have a panic attack.

“They said they would- they said they would- *hic* hurt me! And you weren’t there! *sniff* I-I thought you had forgotten about me.”

This struck a chord within him. “Agoti, I would never…”

“They said they would take big sis a-away from *hic* m-mehe.” He buried his face into his chest and lamented his sorrows. “I-I don’t want y-you and A-Aldie to go!”

His father only had to think for a second to know what to do next. Agoti’s distress after a nightmare wasn’t uncommon, but this time was especially bad. Anything he said to try and soothe him was a trigger word to his panic, he would have to approach this would a lot more grace. Solazar held onto his son’s shoulders to push him back, exposing his tear-stained face to him. His fingers brushed against his cheek and with his hand, he softly caressed the smooth skin. His index finger moved beneath his chin to angle up and have their gazes link, held together by his thumb. Solazar’s pure white scleras gently stared into his wide, terrified ones.

“Breathe, Agoti. I’m not going anywhere.” There was a ring in his voice that grabbed the attention of his son, gentle but firm in his words.

The digidevil ogled obliviously at Solazar, his words quite not processing.

“Follow my lead.” he demonstrated, his chest rising and falling as breathed deeply. Agoti stared at him for a while before attempting to mimic his actions. It took some effort through all the tears but not long after, his breathing evened out and he found himself synchronizing with his father. At this very moment, the pair silently bonded as his nerves were tamed and put to rest.

The room was quiet, save for the soft breathing and gentle praises from Solazar to keep going. His method of calming the child was successful, he wasn’t crying anymore and the film was hanging loosely from his eyes. The Solarisapien plucked off a strip and peered into the black squares, seeing from his perspective the void that his child was plunged into. He tore the rest away, grazing his hand over his face and creating a small pile of film onto the carpet below them both.

Solazar wrapped his arms around him in a loving embrace and said to him. "Listen to me when I say this, Agoti, I will always be with you. There’s no way I could leave someone as sweet as you behind.”

“Really?” He sniffled, a flicker of hope flashing behind his eyes.

Solazar raised a brow at the rhetorical question. “Do I really need to answer that?”

Agoti’s soft giggle hung in the air as he was lifted into the air under his arms, spreading a smile onto the Solarisapien’s face, his eyes curving to show the affection brewing behind his glasses. “Hehe, I don’t think so?” He giggled. He was placed on his lap again, to which the digidevil snuggled into his chest, listening closely to his father.

“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me leaving you. I would never do that to you, my child.”

“You promise?” The demon whispered, peering up at him with even more hopeful eyes.

The Solarisapien’s shoulders shook as he chuckled deeply and lovingly at the silly question. “Yes, Agoti, I promise.”

He held up his pinky, eyes glistening. “Pinky promise?”

Solazar held up his own. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence between the pair.

“I love you, Daddy.”

He pressed his cheek against his forehead affectionately. “And I love you.”

Solazar readjusted the boy, laying him into the crook of his arm, and began to gently rock him. Agoti laid still, relaxing his muscles, and ascended to a sort of heaven with the coziness the heat gave. Solazar placed his hand on top of his head again and massaged each one of his tendrils, taking his time with each one to let his son know just how much he cared about him. To send this point home, his deep voice coaxed him closer to the cliff of slumber as he once again mindlessly hummed a berceuse.

The past warrior was massive and radiated warmth, so Agoti took it upon himself to take advantage of it and used him as a heat blanket. Agoti felt more than safe, he felt loved by the man that was carrying him oh so gently. Little did he know, Solazar was already aware of his neat little trick.

He would ‘coincidently’ pass out in places he knew his father would come across, the most ludicrous spot he discovered him in was the bathroom sink. It was all a ploy for Solazar to attempt to wake him up, fail, and eventually tuck him into bed himself. His father knew from the start what he was doing, he could even feel his chest quiver with suppressed giggles, proud that his plan had worked out so many times. Sometimes he would even peek an eye open to see if Sol was giving him the attention he desired. It amused him but he couldn’t find it within himself to point out the adorable quirk.

He stood up. “Let’s get you to bed now, alright?”

Agoti went stiff and paused, shocked that they had to depart so suddenly, “Can we please stay here?” he begged.

Solazar shook his head. “No, Agoti. You need to sleep in your own bed.”

“Pleeease? I don’t want you to go…” He whined, clinging onto his shirt tighter.

“No means no, Agoti.” He understood the child’s fear but also understood the child would have to get used to the dark eventually.

The digidevil’s expression turned sour and he puffed out his cheeks. Agoti’s calm breathing began to waver and his whines were quickly escalating.

Solazar sighed. “Don’t make that face, Agoti…”

Agoti pouted even more, his expression souring by the second.

“No!” He cried.

“What-”

“I’m not leaving you!”

The toddler grabbed handfuls of his turtleneck sweater and clung to the black fabric. Solazar was sure he was gripping hard enough to where he didn’t even have to hold him if he stood up. He quickly sat down again and hugged the digidevil just in time for him to let out a loud wail onto his chest. Sobbing ensued.

‘Goodness…’ he thought to himself.

Agoti was a stubborn child, once he believed something, it took a lot of convincing to reverse the effects it had. He was grieving at the thought of his father abandoning him. He would never of course, but his son’s recent nightmare clouded his innocence with pessimism. The only logical solution would be to inflict the opposite. Make him feel good about himself, cheerful even, but with what? A warm glass of milk? Retelling his favorite stories?

Solazar’s brainstorming landed him in the middle of yesterday where this whole incident started. Of course, Agoti was still very upset but then it jumped to later in the day with his sudden change of mood, he was acting like himself and graced anyone he was with a beaming smile. He found this very strange as not too long ago, the boy was distraught and now he was back to normal. What caused such sudden optimism finally jogged his memory into remembering why…

Oh no.

In practice, it could be very effective against Agoti considering his sensitivity to touch that came with his age. It wouldn’t be very hard to dish it out. If you were to ask Solazar about performing the action, however, he would call you ridiculous.

This activity that Solazar was so unsure about was tickling.

Aldryx, his older sister, had gotten tired of Agoti’s constant moping. He would drone on about how upset he was until she couldn’t take it anymore. Aldryx chased him down, and the duo scampered all around the house loudly enough to simulate an earthquake. None of Solazar’s warnings to tone it down stopped them. Once Agoti was cornered, instead of their usual roughhousing, she ruthlessly tickled him until he agreed to stop talking about it. The Solarisapien very vividly remembers the laughter and squealing that came from behind his door.

It persisted until the deal was made official, albeit breathlessly on Agoti’s part. After that, the younger demon continued his daily hijinks like nothing had ever happened.

That was until tonight, he was still haunted by the day before. Solazar wanted to feel frustrated, all of their best efforts have led to naught and even his sister couldn’t stop it from persisting. He stopped himself once he realized what he was thinking and stopped himself in the middle of his foolish thoughts. Was he really going to insinuate a 4-year-old was at fault here? He had no one else to go to other than his family, they lived in a world where anyone could be taken advantage of, a foreign concept to Solazar. However, Agoti had just experienced this firsthand a day before. He could only imagine what it was like and felt a sudden tide of compassion for the small boy.

He wasn’t well adjusted to give physical affection despite the years they had been under his custody. Sure he would hug them and overall, tried to be the father they needed. Tickling was even rarer. Majority of the time it was unintentional and he would be left confused why his daughter or son was giggling up a storm when touching them in certain places. Sometimes it was purposeful but was brief and lasted only a few seconds as a response to his little one’s mischief with a small bit of his own. Solazar either way was apprehensive at the idea, making Agoti uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted. He heard his muffled mewl, aching with sadness and wrought with pain. Finally, the man spoke up, he couldn’t bear to see his son so distraught any longer.

His arms were already wrapped around his body which could prevent him from squirming away. Solazar didn’t have much experience with the activity but knew along the torso solicited the biggest response. He mindlessly scribbled up his side, his massive hand could reach the entire area so no part was left untouched. The reaction was immediate, Agoti gasped at the sudden touch, which didn’t stop the fit of soft but bright giggles bubbling out of him. He did it again with his other hand, causing the boy to attempt to squirm away from his hand. The next spot he didn’t expect to be targeted was his back, he traced along the center of his spine slowly. Agoti arched his back with a light squeal, finally showing his face to his loving father as he expelled a flurry of happy giggles, shivering at his gentle touch, and looked up at him, confused but smiling.

“Pahapapa, what ahare you- eheehee!” The digidevil’s query was interrupted by another wave of bubbling laughter, this time much louder. The Solarisapien was stroking up and down his back with his entire hand, each digit crawling up and down his spine like a spider. It was sending fuzzy, warm feelings in his chest, so he didn’t hold back his laughter.

“Just relax, Agoti. Let me take care of you.” He sounded suave and mellow, not helping the fact he was being held against his will. Solazar picked up the boy and laid him down on his lap, keeping his body facing up.

Agoti wiggled on his thighs, tittering with anticipation and a giddiness he hadn’t quite felt before. “Dahahahaddy! Eeeheeheehee!” The boy was giggling like he was still being tickled, which confused the Solarisapien for a moment as he hadn’t touched him yet. It made him slightly chuckle in response once he realized why he was giggling so much.

“I’m guessing it's my hands doing this to you?” His children weren’t lying when they said his flames made their skin feel funny.

“That tihihickles!” Agoti cried.

Solazar patted the top of his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more gentle this time.”

He resumed his tickling, mostly letting his flames do the work, and only slightly grazed his fingertips over the torso, mostly targeting his back and sides like before. This left Agoti in a never-ending snorting mess as the warmth sent shocks of ticklish sensations up his body. The digidevil was squirming from left to right, never leaving the safe spot his father had placed him. Although he secretly enjoyed it, the instinct to protect himself by wrapping his arms around his body never faltered.

“Mweheeheehee *snort* ahahahahaah!” By then, the child was face down, still giggling up a storm. Warm fingers were tracing random shapes up and down his spine, eliciting the biggest response out of the boy. Solazar’s stern expression softened, gazing at his son with admiration and delight. Making his way to his lower back, he teased the skin where the shirt rode up from all the movement. Agoti wheezed and his laughter turned silent before he returned to his hysterical fit, sounding even more childish with a hint of femininity now that his voice was so high-pitched.

The Solarisapien’s eyes thinned, the bridge of his nose wrinkling as the invisible smile returned to spread across his face. The spot seemed too much for him as much of his laughter was starting to sound too breathy, so he slowed down. He calmed down, giggles still sputtering out of him and laced with unintelligible babbles for mercy. Using the other, he began to tap the side of his ribcage, the fabric of his shirt moving as he gently dug into the bones. With the size of his hand, five fingers were able to press into his entire side of bony flesh while the other hand titillated off his back. All ten of his fingers were doing their job of keeping the boy in stitches, belly laughing with his whole heart, Solazar could feel his stomach rumble and shake with unfiltered mirth.

“AhaHahAhah mweheHEHhehe- *snort* p-pahAhaHapa!” The demon howled, slightly kicking his legs. From where Solazar was, he could see the corner of the child’s wide smile.

“Do you need a break?” He asked.

“I doohoohoo! I dohoho!” The digidevil cried.

Solazar stopped and removed his hands, giving the boy time to recover from the tickling. He wasn’t outright gasping for air, but he definitely struggled to keep it stable. Agoti flipped onto his back to rub his eyes, removing the stripes of mirth that threatened to fall out. His smile was gleeful and his cheeks were a lovely crimson tint. The aftermath was pleasant, the tingling was not only present on his torso but throughout his entire body, reaching the tip of his tendrils to the top of his toes. It left him feeling purely euphoric.

“Hehe…ehehe…” He tittered, his energy was being depleted at a moment’s notice.

“Are you alright?” The digidevil looked at him with sleepy eyes and nodded slowly. His demeanor was exhausted and tired, but his tail was curling happily at the treatment he had received. Agoti moaned softly, worming his way into his chest.

The Solarisapien, without skipping a beat, carefully scooped him up and held him close. This night was.. longer than he expected, normally Solazar would already have the toddler in bed by now. But he thinks this night was needed, for the both of them to be together. He made sure to make the transition to the corridor as smooth as possible, swiftly getting up and closing the bedroom behind him in one fluid motion. With half-lidded eyes, Agoti’s blurry vision made it hard to see, but what was quickly made apparent to him now that they were in the hallway. His father shined brighter than ever, standing out from anything else in the corridor. Solazar began his stride deeper in, his glow bouncing off the walls.

Time slowed down as the pair traveled across the rooms, they were in no rush so Solazar took his time. They had made it and his father pushed the door open where it was left agape. Solazar stepped inside and began to slide his fingertips over the wall, guiding his hand to locate the light switch. Upon contact, he flicked it to life.

Solazar grimaced and squinted hard as he rubbed the burning that returned in his eyes. It didn’t help, he really needed to take a break after this. Once his vision came into view, it made his environment finally observable.

Unsurprisingly, the room looked as it had always been, but disturbed from what he could tell from the disheveled bed sheets. The walls were painted in pastel red and blue stripes, decorated with stickers of spaceships and stars, along with the mild scribbles that Agoti had drawn all over. There was even a box of toys in the corner of the room well over the max as other ones were scattered about the carpet. The shelves were occupied with books all about his favorite things, with one dedicated solely to his stuffed animal collection. Then there was the lone rocking chair placed in the corner of the room next to the window, masked by the dusty ruby-red curtain. Solazar didn’t really need to use it since his son’s infancy but left it there for old time's sake.

He made his way to the small bed and laid the demon on the mattress. He then pinched the corner of the comforter and draped the fluffy material over his body.

Solazar deeply stared at him with a certain gaze that would only belong to a father deeply fond of his children and stood up to leave.

He looked back at him. “Sweet dreams, Agoti. Rest well.”

As his hand lifted off the mattress to make his departure, a gentle tug pulled on his sleeve.

“Um, Daddy?” He heard the meek voice of Agoti say.

Just his luck.

“Yes? What is it?” Solazar sighed, kneeling back down.

Agoti tugged at his sleeve more, gesturing Solazar to lean over so he could say something in his ear.

“Can you sing me a lullaby?” He whispered.

Solazar thought for a moment and pulled down his sleeve to look at his watch. 1:48 AM. It was already extremely late and that could lead to some trouble falling back to sleep. Thinking about it more, a lullaby made a lot more sense; it could serve as a sort of encore to their already chaotic night.

“Sure.” He says.

His skills with the piano gave him a lot of time to practice his own singing too. All too often he was interrupted and teased by his children for it. Nowadays, both of them loved to serenade in music and often joined their father.

Agoti’s eyes lit up with joy, “Yay, papa’s singing!” he rhapsodized. His previous exhaustion seemed to vanish out of thin air and was replaced with his typical energetic self. Children were…odd. One moment they could be at the edge of passing out and the next they are seen bouncing off the wall, it was funny honestly.

The Solarisapien pulled the demon out under the covers, the comforter slothing off his body in the process. Solazar held him as got up and sat down on the rocking chair. He pushed aside the curtains and spread the blinds between his fingers to peek and looked up towards the sky. He hadn’t realized the thunderstorm had passed up until now, although many thick clouds had been left behind.

“Do you hear that?” Solazar said, still looking out the window.

“Hear what?”

“The rain, do you hear it?”

Come to think of it, he didn’t hear it anymore. He hadn’t realized when it stopped.

Solazar turned his body towards his window and pulled the string attached allowing them both to see the outside completely. The numerous clouds didn’t flood the sky anymore, occasionally dripping and enriching the dark sky like a great big canvas, acting as an impromptu portière to the doorway of the waning crescent that stood on the other side. Once exposed, it filled the sky with its eternal glory.

He pulled down his glasses to get a better view. Their view of the moon didn’t waver, Solazar was especially fixated on its beauty.

This gave him an idea.

He turned to his son, fixing the prescriptions back onto his eyes. “Agoti, I want to show you something. Something extraordinary…”

The cryptic tone caught his attention.

“Like what, papa?”

Solazar leaned in. “Something enchanting I know you will like.”

There was a solid three seconds of silence before Agoti stammered out excitedly. “I-is it magic?!”

Influenced by fantasy and the like, he would answer with that. “You could say that.”

His already bright and cheery smile widened and the anticipation warping his excited nerves morphed into butterflies flapping within the bowels of his gut.

His train of thought was interrupted when something bright brimmed in his peripheral vision. He looked directly at whatever it was but immediately had to look away as it was shining so brilliantly. Agoti had to squint to make out what it was, eventually making out the shape of his father's hand, now a glowing glob of light. Solazar snapped his fingers, triggering the glow to dispel, echoing around them with such bass, it startled him.

The digidevil’s eyes were wide with alarm and he hadn’t realized he was holding in his breath, itching for something to happen. Just as he was beginning to breathe, a sound resonated that he didn’t quite expect; a twinkle. The twinkling gradually grew, crystalline diamonds manifesting and briefly ascending above them before disappearing.

His time to process what was happening was cut short after a beacon of pure light engulfed them. When Agoti opened his eyes, their surroundings were now consumed in white, the only exception being the more pasteled variant of his father. Agoti looked down at his own body to realize he looked the same and this new environment had completely changed his natural color pallet.

A breeze formed under them and seemed to push them upwards as the more the winds increased. Agoti was about to ask Solazar what was going on when he noticed himself beginning to float. It was slow and hardly noticeable but when he did, he saw the way his clothes would air around his body, similar to a blanket in the ripples of gentle wind. Or how his short tendrils became independent of just resting on his scalp.

The digidevil was hardly off his lap but after some movement, he discovered he could move around the white space like a pool of water. He had fun experimenting with this new gravity, spinning, and doing all sorts of tricks as if he were a simple lost boy, ageless but youthful. Agoti, upside down, grasped his father’s face and joyfully greeted him, “Hi daddy!” his tail curling behind him with elation.

Solazar played along, allowing him to grab onto his glasses, “Hello, my child. How are you doing tonight?” he responded warmly. While still upside down, Agoti sloppily put them on, amusing the star being into a chuckle.

“You look silly without your glasses,” He simpered.

Agoti giggled when his nose was softly booped by his finger. “I beg to differ, little one.”

There was a noticeable pickup in speed, throwing off the demon since he was already adjusted to the new atmosphere. He found it harder to move in the empty space, stuck in his now upside-down position. Solazar did the honors for him and grabbed his shoulders to pull him back to his original position.

“That will happen the closer we get to our destination, just be sure to hold on.” Solazar said after he reclaimed his glasses. The demon pressed his face against his chest with a grip on his shirt and shut his eyes. Another shockwave pulsed through them as the new wave of speed was brought upon them, moving so quickly, it felt like they were traveling at light speed. Agoti whimpered, the feeling of his shirt whipping against his body made him realize just how quickly they were traveling. He fluttered his eyes open, fearful at first but dazzled by the way Solazar’s flames burned. It possessed a fierceness that would crumble his foes to their knees, he felt inspired by it. Like a candle in a snowstorm, it was on the cusp of burning out but its tiny blaze was determined to keep the night shining.

Then it all stopped.

His ears were no longer overburdened with fast winds and chimes akin to a chandelier being spun ceased to exist. The demon didn’t dare to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see. But of course, Solazar was there to mediate his fears.

"It’s ok, you can open your eyes now.”

The way his voice sounded surprised the toddler. His soft inside voice was replaced with a resounding chime as if they had traveled inside a cave.

"I-I don’t wanna look!” He whined.

“You will be fine. It isn’t anything that will scare you.” Solazar spoke with an assuring, confident voice.

Agoti, hesitant at first, obeyed his father and barely jarred his eyes open. But through the thin window of his vision realized there was no imminent threat, which finally gave him the courage to open them both completely.

He gasped loudly and a wide grin slowly crept up his lips…

“It’s- it’s space!” He gushed, his voice booming with astonishment, “How can we breathe? Aldie said there’s no air!” shouted Agoti, unable to contain his excitement.

Solazar lightly shrugged his shoulders. "You could say I brought a bit of home here with us.” Agoti didn’t question it and was still in awe, again not realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time.

He bounced with excitement. “I’m gonna tell everyone about this!” His enthusiasm for space was really touching and Solazar was honestly very flattered by this.

“Do tell, I’m sure your sister would be delighted, but on another note,” He cleared his throat. "You might be confused about why you’re here right now, yes? ”

“A little,” he responded.

“This place is peaceful and full of wonder, somewhere I visited where I needed to clear my head. When you would have trouble sleeping at night, I would bring us here to sing to you,” He was speaking faintly but fondly as he remembered the sweet yet chaotic times when the demon was just an infant.

Agoti was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember that?”

“You were so young, nobody would.”

He pondered and glanced down at himself to see if he still possessed his pastel palette. It was gone, replaced by a shimmery aura that bounced off both his and his father’s bodies. Continuing to look around, everything he took in was so unfamiliar. Just somewhere in the cosmos, he guessed. None of the planets were from their own solar system and neither were they in one, but the planets dispersed about were close enough for them to personally observe. Around them were a multitude of worlds ranging in all colors and sizes.

Even the suns nearby looked remotely nothing like theirs. That wasn’t the only thing there, stars were obvious but from afar did Agoti see these sort of cloud-like accumulations of colorful speckles. Nebulas of course! He remembered that from the books he read with his sister and would definitely have a story to tell once morning arrived.

He looked to see his father gazing up at the space, eyes glinting with fascination.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Agoti’s quick babble was all he needed to know he agreed with him.

“What’s that star over there?” Agoti questioned, pointing to one particular star. It wasn’t like the other ones where they glowed a color that would be anomalous to their solar system. It was anomalous to every sun around it, aqua blue and yellow swirled within its core like a cauldron having its contents stirred, its surface shining a seafoam green. Despite the bizarre coloring, it fascinated Agoti and he was instantly entranced by its alluring appearance.

“I’m not sure. Do you like it?” He asked.

“Yeah! Can we name it?” The boy was enthused, standing up to get a better view.

Solazar kept him steady by planting his hands on his hips, for a few moments, he thought of a name for this unknown star. “Maybe Cerulean would be a good name? It goes well with the blue.”

“It’s perfect!”

There was always something new to see no matter where he looked. His adoptive father could indeed relate to this feeling.

Agoti for the next several minutes pointed out every detail and squealed over each new discovery to his father. He let him rant about it, he would get tired eventually. And as if on cue, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. The digidevil felt his eyelids get a little heavy and his body’s muscles began to go limp at an unprecedented rate. He plopped back down before leaning back into his body.

“Dad I’m…tired,” He said in between a loud yawn.

Solazar pressed a finger to his intangible lips. “Shhh~ You’ve been awake long enough, close your eyes.”

Agoti’s eyelids succumbed to its weight, quicking shutting close.

“That’s it, just listen to my voice… ”

He lightly brushed his knuckles against his hair. He knew just the song to sing and looked forward to finally bringing his boy peace, just as he did all those years ago. Solazar's deep voice became smooth as he commenced his serenade, sounding much more divine as his cords echoed despite the heavens they were in being devoid of oxygen.

…

♪ Come little children

♬ I’ll take thee away

♩ Into a land of enchantment

♩ Come little children

♪ The time’s come to play

The digidevil was immediately dragged into a state of calm, helped by the Solarisapien who sang so handsomely. His carol fills the quiet around them.

Follow sweet children ♩

I’ll show thee the way♩

Through all the pain ♫

And the sorrows ♪

Weep not poor children ♫

For life is this way ♩

Murdering beauties and passions~ ♪

Agoti began to stir when he saw something bright form behind his eyelids and opened them just a tad. He witnessed their surroundings suddenly filled with glowing figures of the sort.

His vision cleared just enough to recognize that it was musical notes materializing. They danced in the air, reminding Agoti of the copies of sheet music he’d seen his father playing. They were blue like his dad and seemed to serve some sort of purpose with his solo, playing the instrumental to the song for further auxiliary.

“Papa, wass tha’?” He slurred, his speech ruined with spittle and weariness.

“This is one of the many gifts I was given when I came to exist.” Solazar stopped singing to answer his question.

“You yourself will be blessed one day,” he rubbed the back of his head with his hand, “Now then, try to go back to sleep.” his voice was rumbling with how low he was speaking.

♬ Hush now dear children

♩ It must be this way

♩ Too weary of life

♪ And deceptions

♫ Rest now my children

♬ For soon we’ll away

♪ Into the calm and the quiet

A symphony of woos slowly began to reveal themselves and surround them, varying in pitch and length, all were quite feminine voices but there was an underlying manly voice behind their delicate chorus. Agoti could start to see figures of people fading in above and around them. They appeared to be the same species as his father. None of them had their entire body showing, ending around the waist, and faded into faint sparkles as the outline of their bodies connected like constellations. One stood out, the man behind the guttural singing and the biggest out of them all, muscular and imposing yet seemingly at peace. The notes pranced around the duo, moving accordingly in a hypnotic fashion. Solazar wasn’t lying when he said this was highly effective. The honeyed voice dripping with affection singing the sweet song in his ear and enchanted infinity called space took a toll, succeeding in shutting his eyes permanently. He could no longer see the forms of the ancient race or the notes as he had finally fallen asleep.

Come little children…♫

I’ll take thee away…♪

Into a land of enchantment…♩

Come little children… ♬

The time’s come to play…♪

“Here in my garden of shadows ♪”

The ancient species sang one last beautiful chorus, singing with more vigor and more passion at the sight of the mortal child resting in his caretaker’s arms. They were merely souls, however, apparitions of warriors who faded eons ago, forever roaming the cosmos in silence.

The notes faded away, along with the spirits who had long since perished, leaving him alone with his son. Solazar sighed and relaxed his shoulders. He wanted to admire the sight of his beautiful boy one more time, he stood out among all the beauty that surrounded them. But was unfortunately interrupted by their aura beginning to dull. Solazar pulled up his sleeve to quickly look at the time, reading 2:27.

They had overstayed their visit, it was time to go home.

Before the aura could fizzle out, he had already snapped his fingers to send them home. Everything from before happened in reverse order, catapulting them to the ground. Agoti somehow remained asleep, a soft smile gracing his already darling expression. Solazar would love to bask in it but was too busy holding onto dear life, keeping the chair's armrest well clutched and silently praying the seat wouldn’t crash.

Once that beacon of light had collapsed and revealed the carpet floor of his room, Solazar braced. Shockingly, the chair bounced off the floor with ease, launching them both in the air before going down again. The momentum knocked them forward hard and fast, so hard he nearly face-planted into the floor but digging his foot in the ground stopped it. Solazar’s eyes were wide and when he looked down at the small boy; he was somehow in a deep sleep.

Solazar stared at his sleeping face, his gaze fueling the core inside of him to swell. A wet line of saliva was leaking from the corner of his slightly agape mouth and he gingerly wiped away the spittle with his thumb. Words couldn’t describe how he was feeling, he just wanted to preserve the scene.

The ancient being stood up from the rocking chair holding him in one arm, using his other to pull back his comforter and prepare the area for his son. Slowly and gently, he laid the digidevil in the empty spot and covered his body over the sheet. He snuggled into the warmth, stretching before falling still back to his sleep. He grabbed his teddy bear and tucked it in next to him. He witnessed him leisurely pull it closer to him. The Solarisapien stood over him and bowed his head.

He took a seat on the corner of his bed, creaking as his weight pressed down on the bolts holding it together. Solazar reached for his face but was stopped by Agoti’s tendrils, who somehow sensed his presence and curled the short hair around his hand sweetly. How long he sat there he didn’t know, but eventually, he knew it was time for his son to sleep alone.

His hand was already on the doorknob and he swung it open before exiting. Outside his room, Solazar couldn’t have felt more relieved and slid his back down the wall before his bottom met the wooden floor. He leaned his head against the wall and took off his glasses, rubbing them against his turtleneck sweater, getting rid of specks that were a nuisance to his vision.

Then he heard it.

A creak not from his own doing.

He turned to his right and saw a pair of disembodied eyes staring at him from the darkness. The creature stepped forward.

It was Luna, the family cat. She was immediately purring and rubbing up against Solazar’s legs and accepted being scratched behind her ears.

“Hello, Luna.”

Luna meowed and rubbed up against him, her black fur felt soft against his legs.

“Why don’t we go relax?”

She meowed, signaling her approval.

…

With the sun creeping up the horizon, it cast red and yellow clouds in the sky as a new day began. Birds sang their melody of dawn, golden light striking the green trees. Tiny flecks danced around the digidevil’s bedroom while gold luster brightened the room. He did not stir, Agoti had never slept so well in his life, the blanket felt so warm and the pillow was soft enough to melt into. The only thing he could hear was his soft snoring and the chirping of birds. He could stay here forever.

Agoti felt a dip further down his bed, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. It was too perfect to ruin this moment.

“Son, it’s time to get up.” Solazar’s voice was nearly in a whisper. His son was a light sleeper, it didn’t take much to wake him up.

He groaned and rotated his body, encasing himself in more of his soft blanket. “Too shleepy…”

Agoti believed he had won and breathed deeply into the layers, taking in their fresh scent. He was left sorely mistaken however once he felt something move under his comforter and attempt to grab him. His father was trying to pick him up out of his bed and he wouldn’t let that happen.

“Nurrr…” Agoti mewled, burrowing deeper into the sheets, dodging the hands trying to grasp him.

“Are you not going to get up?”

“Nuh-uh.” He pouted, upset his morning slumber had been interrupted.

Solazar was silent for a moment.

“Suit yourself.”

What he did next was something he hadn’t seen coming, catching him off guard greatly as two hands tweaked his sides. Solazar systematically targeted his torso, following his son’s every moment so he could never escape and was always first to prod away at his body. Agoti tried to suppress them at first but the laughter piling in his chest was getting harder to ignore. The barrier broke and he let out a flurry of bubbling giggles, doing his best to squirm away from his father’s wrath.

“Agoti, you know how to stop this.” He heard him say but didn’t relent, he really needed his sleep!

“Nohohoho!” The demon cried, encasing himself under the covers to protect himself, which only left him more vulnerable. Solazar proceeded to tickle up and down his son’s torso at random, never giving him a chance to get used to the sensation before moving again. It had a significant effect on his dear boy, who by now made it obvious with his sputtering laughter and silly little snorts in between. Agoti still persisted but still made no effort to bargain with his father.

Sol could clearly see he had inherited his own stubbornness. But what he didn’t have was patience and his father for all he knew could be here all day if he wanted, gently tormenting his boy until he gave in. But with their limited time, it wasn’t possible and he aimed for the final blow. Searching under the cover a bit and eventually landing on what he was looking for, his digits wiggled wildly all over.

Agoti shrieked and the thrashing increasing under the covers indicated he had found what he was looking for.

“Not my rihihihihibs!” The digidemon cried from under the sheets. With all his thrashing, it finally led up to Agoti wrestling the comforter off of him, finally releasing himself from his hiding place. He pushed at his hands, laughing brightly.

“Are you going to get up?” Sol asked, continuing his ministries as the digidevil giggled for mercy.

“Yehehehes pahahapa!” His laughter became girlish as the tickling continued.

His exterior remained hardened and stern, but on the inside, he struggled to keep up the facade.

“And I won’t have to return to your room and do this again, yes?”

A squeal was ripped out of Agoti’s throat once his lower ribs were targeted, warm fingers glazing over his clothed skin.

“Yehehes dahahaddy! I prohohomise!” He didn’t have to wiggle around much longer as Solazar had ceased his playful punishment.

Agoti hugged himself once his hands pulled away and giggled as the residual ghost tickles slowly sunk into his bone, fading into his skin feeling stimulated and sensitive. From all the laughing he had been doing, he thought he would be exhausted. Strangely enough, all of his fatigue from earlier ceased to exist and he felt rather energized.

The Solarisapien adjusted the glasses on his face. “I’ll start cooking breakfast then. How do pancakes sound?”

Agoti’s face lit up in excitement, pancakes were his favorite. “Yeah!”

“You think you can get dressed on your own?”

“Mhm!” He hummed excitedly, looking forward to the flavor of fluffy, buttery pancakes by his father.

“That’s my boy.” He ruffled his tendrils and left the demon to his devices, giving him the well-needed privacy to get dressed. As he left the door behind him ajar, Agoti got to work and directed his path toward his dressers.

He found the perfect t-shirt and while he struggled to clip on his overalls at first, he succeeded and slipped on a pair of socks before escaping his room through the considerately cracked door. Agoti ran out into the kitchen, finding his beloved family and the delicious wafts of butter circulated the air and satisfying crackles of oil smelling of grease got him excited.

If there was anything better in the mornings, it was the sight of bacon and his father’s famous pancakes. His sister and father had their backs turned to him, all focused on the stove as the former warrior instructed his daughter on making the pancakes. Aldryx seemed frustrated but as usual, their father was patient, guiding his child through the steps until she cheered for joy at her successful pancake. It was only then the pair noticed the youngest’s presence that they turned to warmly greet him.

“Nice to see you joined us this morning, Agoti. You look well.” Solazar hummed, drinking from a mug and wearing a chef’s apron.

Aldryx looked and grinned at her little brother, revealing all her sharp sets of teeth to the toddler. She was sitting on the counter, holding a bowl of batter and wearing her signature pink nightgown and pink slippers, swinging her legs in blissful innocence. Even Aldryx was excited at the sweet breakfast the two were going to have.

The flaming male beckoned the smaller child forward and hoisted him up, only this time to place him on his shoulders. Agoti’s legs were twigs compared to the tree trunk equivalent of his neck and when he wrapped his legs around it, they fit perfectly around the nape, giving the toddler the perfect amount of support.

“Would you like to help us make breakfast?” He asked calmly, slightly turning his head to make eye contact with the boy on him.

“Uh-huh!” Agoti was bouncing up and down as he was brought closer to the stovetop. He was struck with the delicious smells of both foods cooking, even more, potent now that he was closer. Solazar did the same with Agoti as he did with Aldryx, slowly teaching him his ways while lightly scolding him if he ate the raw batter. Time slowed down and the household was filled with laughter and chaos as their hijinks persisted.

All of a sudden, Agoti stopped, still holding the spatula. “Daddy, can we eat now? I’m hungry.”

Solazar nodded his head. “I suppose so, go sit down and I’ll bring your plates out to you.”

“Yay!” Both cried in unison, Aldryx jumped off the counter and scampered off with her little brother, who was already climbing up to his booster seat. Dishes clattered and cabinets opened here and there and soon enough, Solazar was walking toward them with their food. They both said their thanks as their father placed the plates with the appropriate silverware in front of them, the duo donning beaming smiles before digging in. Their father sat down with them, but stayed quiet, silently watching them gulp down their food with half-lidded eyes.

Hardly any time had passed and the two children were already begging for another helping. The Solarisapien obliged, picking up their plates yet again to go into the kitchen where the rest of the food lay warm. Unfortunately, in the Entity household, it was never short of calamity. Aldryx and Agoti were already beginning to goof off at the dinner table, flinging specks of food caught by their placemats at each other back and forth. Both were quietly snickering, doing their best to not attract his attention and ducking under the table as a shield against each other’s attacks.

Solazar came back with their second meal and wasn’t surprised at the scene, their faces were peppered with leftover pancake and grease from their bacon. He stared at them and just smiled, placing the plates back down in front of them.

“Enjoy your breakfast, children.”

Needless to say, it was a great morning.

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

✿

✿

✿

✿

Fin~

[copiousloverofcopia]

I am honored to be able to share with you a commission that I did for the incredibly talented and wonderful @the-cardinale .

I'm still very much in shock that she wanted me to write for her, considering that she's literally to me one of the quintessential writers of this entire fandom.

Beth I love you so much and I have the deepest respect for you. I am so happy that you liked this piece.

I hope everyone else enjoys as well.

Without further ado

Beauty in Chaos ❤️‍🔥

Also featured here on AO3!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

Commissions are still open! Please see pinned post for carrd information!

The Papal suite had finally grown quiet. The mountains of toys and piled up dishes spread out across the parlor, and the faint sound of a children's show could be heard playing from the TV. You sat back against the couch, pulling off your glasses and letting out a sigh. Your eyes, aching from being overworked and your head, unfortunately, was following suit.

You massaged away at your temples. Simple, small strokes as you attempted to chip away at the tension. The aches and pains, a familiar yet uninvited guest in recent days. You had realized more and more, just how much work it was to be Prime Mover and wife to the first Emeritus son.

Your headspace was an amalgamation of the to do's and worry. Every waking moment felt like a never-ending pile up of responsibility and stress. You weren't depressed, as a matter of fact you were happier than you had ever been. It was more that this kind of happiness came with a cost—a cross to bear.

Sometimes the monotonous tasking, and endless chasing after your willful little one, made you tired in more ways than imaginable. At the end of the day you were always left feeling stripped bare, and tonight was like any other. As the night had arrived, the light from the sun slowly retreated from the courtyard and you had finally managed to get your child down to sleep. A welcome reprieve, one that had always come few and far between. His waking and sleep cycles, disrupted by the budding of teeth. Ones that insisted on triumphantly making themselves known.

You closed your eyes, releasing another breath, when you felt a comforting warmth on your shoulders. A familiar grip you instantly melted in, as you leaned back on your neck and looked up into your Papa’s mismatched eyes. “I see he has finally tuckered himself out.” Primo smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For the moment it seems.” you sighed, knowing that you’d be lucky to get an hour of down time. You loved your son so much, but the toddler years had proven themselves to be a beast. One that, the likes of which, even Hell itself couldn’t conjure. “Maybe I will finally get a moment to finally finish up the papers Sister Imperator had sent for me before he wakes–” you remarked, sniffling back before Primo interjected.

“Nonsense.” Primo hissed, “You will do no such thing. Tell me what troubles you? I feel the weight of your soul is heavy my blossom.”

“I have a bad headache and I haven’t been sleeping well, if at all…I–I am overwhelmed.” You blurted out, a bit ashamed for having admitted it. The tears, now slipping from the rims of your eyes. Primo pulled you around to face him. Holding you tightly in his embrace as you began to weep.

“There is no shame in feeling this way.” he promised you, his heart beating in your ear. His fingers, running through your hair, comforting you and soothing the headache that plagued you. You only wished your emotions could be more easily cured.

“Thank you…and I know, I just…I want to be able to help. To do everything that's asked of me. To take care of our child. To help the siblings and the Ministry as is my duty. Help you—but lately it all feels like it's crushing me under the weight of it. I love our life Primo, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world, but I just feel like I'm having a hard time wading through it all.” you cried, burying your face in his chest.

“Oh amore, listen to me. We are going to find something to help you unwind.” he insisted. You brought your head up to face him. Tears leaving a trail of waterproof mascara, which clearly had failed at its job. You wiped the wetness from your cheeks, gathering yourself together once more before continuing to speak.

“Primo I can’t, there is so much to do. I will never be able to get it all done if I don’t keep on it. I need to at least work on the papers tonight. Oh! And I just remembered I promised some of the sisters that I would help with new sibling orientation this week and I…”

“Sí, I understand…but do you hear yourself? You are going to work yourself so hard that there is nothing left to give, then what good are you to anyone that you wish to help? Allow me to help you relax, my petal." He said, pausing a moment before continuing on. "Would you grant this old withered soul an audience in your company? Just the two of us?”

“Oh my love, I want to…believe me I WANT to. I have missed you so much this past week...I just don't know. I miss our alone time.” you admitted, a reflexive smirk gracing your face as you recalled the many times this man had you climbing the heights of passion. The countless orgasms that had sent you to realms far beyond your own while under his lascivious spell.

“Then it's settled. I have already sent for Aether to come watch the piccolo for the evening. He'll take good care of him, while I help you remember the beautiful goddess that you are. One deserving a break.” Primo chuckled.

“Are you sure about that? Not concerned we may come back to find them both gnawing on furniture or the suite covered in drool?” you laughed.

“Not in the least. The ghoul can handle himself.” Primo insisted, trying his best to convince you, and himself he believed it. He was quick to convince you, always so effortless in his ways. So sweet and calming, like a mug of warm chamomile tea. His voice, able to unwind the stress of the day and his smile sending your heart aflutter in your chest. It still amazed you how he managed it.

How Primo could make those first butterflies you felt in the beginning, keep up their flight. The love felt between you both–so deep and passionate. Truly, had you not known otherwise, you would have thought it was black magic. Your husband had spoken, and always seemed to have your best interest at heart. Once Aeth had arrived, you gently kissed the red headed mop, you adored more than life itself, before the two of you bounded out to your favorite spot in the greenhouse.

You made your way down the path, laden with the gray-green foliage and beautiful pink flowers of the creeping thyme that surrounded the stepping stones. Hand in hand, you carefully traversed the grounds until you came upon the sanctuary of your destination. The stars in the sky, beginning to peek out from the clouds above as you walked inside. You entered first, feeling the intense warmth and the smell of the herbs, and Primo’s freshly potted geraniums, filling your senses.

Only a moment passed before you heard the telltale latch of the door from behind you and the small click of the lock. The smell and sounds, sending a smile to your lips and hellfire through your veins. The heat, settling in your belly as the anticipation built up for what was to come.

You headed for the table in the far back, which sat beside a pair of chairs just outside the door to Primo’s storage closet. As you passed through the rows and rows of plants, all carefully tended to by Papa and the siblings, you remembered when you were once just another of the flock. Helping to manage the garden, when you first laid your eyes on Primo. Singing gently to his plants, as he helped encourage them to grow. Many found the practice foolish, often snickering or having a chuckle at your Papa’s expense. You, however, found it endearing. Your heart, opening to him from that moment forward.

When you reached the table, you gathered up the discarded empty seed packets and muddy gardening gloves. Setting them off to the side, as you cleared a space for yourself. “You know I have asked them so many times to clean up after themselves you’d swear they were all still children.” Primo groaned, watching you clear things off.

“I am sure they meant no harm Papa.” you said, stepping out of your panties, bundling them up and tossing them to the side. Your breathing, already heavy. The heat of your core rising as his gaze fell upon you. Your skin, responding as if he was somehow able to touch you with only a look.

“You are breathtaking, you know this?” Primo asked you, “Inside and out."

“Is that so?” You said as you hopped up on the table, knocking off a terracotta pot onto the floor. “Oh shit.” You exclaimed, staring a only a moment at the mess, your eyes immediately returning to Primo for his response. Normally your husband would be remiss not to pick it up, but tonight there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“I am very sure.” he assured you as he approached, discarding the chasuble and trying hard to undo the buttons of his shirt. He fumbled around with them, his hands struggling to free each button despite his eagerness.

“Here, allow me.” You smiled, Primo’s brow cocked, welcoming your help as his hands rested upon the tops of your thighs. His thumbs rubbing against you.

“What did this old man ever do to deserve you?” he asked, gathering up your dress in his fists before his mouth descended on your neck. Kissing along your pulse points. Leaving blush colored marks in his wake.

“Just being you Papa. That’s all.” you moaned as you helped finish off the last of the buttons. His bare chest peeked out from behind the fabric. You couldn’t resist running your fingers through his chest hair, nails gently scraping the skin as he let out a moan.

“Sacrificherei la mia anima a qualsiasi cosa Dio possa averla, per trascorrere l'eternità dentro di te.” Primo purred against your skin. “Let me see you as Lucifer intended.” he begged, his own breathing hastened as you felt the swell of his cock press against your thigh.

You pulled your dress over your head, now naked before him. He helped to guide you backward, laying you down on the bare spot you cleared while minding the rest of the potted plants. He ran his hand up your thighs, brushing deviously light over where you desperately needed his touch. Climbing over your stomach, before resting his hand gently over your breast.

He kneaded it gently, enjoying the feel of you filling his hand. His fingers tugged gently at the peak of your nipple. Rolling his thumb over it to tease. You could feel his cock against you, his own need for you growing. Your blood, pumping faster and faster within your veins. You swallowed back the knot in your throat as you waited—aching to be touched.

“Oh Primo, please.” you begged, needy and ready. You felt his fingers enter you. The slow glide of them inside, making you bite down on your lip to hold back a moan. You couldn’t be that easy on him, letting him know that even just the simplest of his touches set you on fire. Though you were sure deep down he already knew. “That feels so good.” you cooed, giving into your sensations as he curved up his fingers into the delicate bundle of nerves he knew made you keen.

“Oh sweet Satanas, you are so wet for me already.” Primo groaned, his own need beginning to fluster him.

“Always.” you muttered. His hand worked you effortlessly to orgasm. Your hips rocking in time with his movements and his detailed attention to your clit made quick work of you. You writhed on the table, already feeling the sweat pooling on the small of your back and drenching inside of your thighs.

Primo pulled back his hand, gently falling to his knees before you. He minded his aching joints as he got into a comfortable position on the floor. His calloused fingers tracing up along your thighs once again. The feel of it, only serving to fuel your hunger. Your insides throbbing at the promise of him inside you.

“Papa, I don’t know if I can wait much longer.” you told him, half begging, the other half teasing.

“You won’t need to wait long amore.” Primo assured you. You rolled your head, side to side, feeling so incredibly so warm. Unsure if it was the greenhouse, your first orgasm, or the intense need to have another. You didn’t have time to decide, as Primo's fingers pressed into the moist flesh of your thighs, slowly opening them, allowing him to see how much you desired him, how much you’d already given up for him.

“I assure you I am just as ready my blossom and I will earn every last drop.” Primo hummed against your thigh, his tongue slithering up to meet with your exposed, tender flesh. He wasted no time in tasting you. Like a full bodied wine, he savored you with every flick and broad stroke of his tongue. Your hips raised off the table, rolling against his mouth as he tasted you.

Tending to your body in ways only he could, like his most cherished of his flowers. He worked meticulously to watch you bloom. Knowing exactly when and where you needed to be touched. He worked you over, slurping and curling his tongue between your folds and gently sucking on the bud of your clit.

You felt yourself throbbing inside, growing closer and closer to your second orgasm. Unable to keep your hands off Primo's head as he pleasured you. "Mmm…" you moaned, your hips rising up once again. The scent of sex not mingling with the smell of the earth that lingered around you from the spilt over plant.

"That's it my petal, allow me to devour youm show you that you are worthy." Primo growled as his mouth returned to you. Between his words and the feel of him, you quickly were there at the precipice once again.

"Oh Papa, I'm going to cum." You managed to get out, breath shaky and legs beginning to shake against the top of Primo's shoulders. He watched you in all your glory, delighted as you came undone. Your body released against his mouth, flooding it with the sweet taste of you.

"Non c'è niente di più dolce del nettare che sgorga da dentro di te." He purred, taking one last lap of his tongue through your folds before attempting to stand up. You admired his resilience. Despite his age, he had always managed to take on the constitution of a younger man when it came to worshiping you. You pulled yourself up on your elbows, Primo basking in the beauty of post-climactic you. His smile turned delvish as he allowed his eyes to crawl over you.

"I need you." You confessed, laid out before him. Primo leaned in, kissing your breast and taking your nipple into his mouth. The pleasure eliciting a moan from within you as your hands slid around his neck. Holding him close against your breast as you felt him lining his cock up with your entrance.

"I need you too–" he groaned, breaking the seal around your nipple and pushing himself inside you. Slowly and mercifully, your body conformed easily to his girth. Every nerve pressed deliciously, with every inch descended. Your walls, encapsulating him as he carefully seated himself fully inside.

He stood still, watching as you shifted around beneath him, so full but begging for friction between you. "Primo please." You mewled as he took a handful of each of your hips—squeezing tightly.

"As you wish." He smiled, rearing back only to slide back in slowly. Finally giving you the movement as friction you craved. He continued his movements over and over again. Brushing tightly along your soft insides, making you lose yourself in the moment.

You loved sex with your husband. His sinful talents, knowing no limit, but there was something even more sensual when he took his time. Maybe it was because he loved you, but then it always did. Maybe it was because you felt it more fully now than you had in week you couldn't be sure.

He was truly making love with you, worshiping you, showing you that all the universe and everything in existence mattered only because you were in it. This—this was the exact thing you needed. The slow and intentioned thrusts of his pelvis pressing hard against you. His cock pounding over and over against your most sensitive of spots.

You wrapped your legs around him, guiding his movements. Primo's breathing, hard and ragged. His mouth falling open as he fucked into you. Lifting you up off the table as he continued his ministrations. Your fingers scraping at his back as the pleasure enveloped you.

It wasn't long before he had you seeing stars. Your orgasm tearing through you like a soul being ripped from the mortal plane. Intense and incredible, holding on tight to his back as you trembled with your release. Feeling Primo's lips pressed into your shoulder as he continued to move.

He too was overcome. Feeling your body hug tightly to him with each and every thrust. He began muttering, under strained whines, in Italian. Singing praises for you as he began to release. His cock, kicking deep inside you, filling you full of his seed.

Primo fell limp against you, both of you spent and content. You pulled up his face to look at you. "Era proprio quello di cui avevo bisogno." You sighed, Primo smiling at the ease in which you spoke his native tongue.

"Good, because I have a feeling I will be paying for that for a few days." He laughed. Both of you, deliciously happy as he brushed your mess of hair back from your face. His eyes filled with love and admiration.

"There is no one else I would rather be in the chaos with other than you my love." You smiled.

"Ah sí, but what beautiful chaos it is."

Notes:

Sacrificherei la mia anima a qualsiasi cosa Dio possa averla, per trascorrere l'eternità dentro di te.- I would sacrifice my soul to whatever God may have it, to spend eternity inside you.

Non c'è niente di più dolce del nettare che sgorga da dentro di te.- There is nothing more sweet than the nectar that pours from within you.

Era proprio quello di cui avevo bisogno- That was just what i needed.

[ridenwithbiden]

It’s often said that Donald Trump has a cultlike following. But that’s far too benign. “Star Wars” has a cultlike following. Taylor Swift has her cult of “Swifties.” A political organization that has no platform other than loyalty to the leader is not a cult, it’s an autocratic movement.

The tragicomic chaos in the House in the last week is the natural result of a political party that has lived under Trump’s thumb. It should end any pretense that the current Republican Party is a serious governing party.

As Hannah Arendt wrote in “The Origins of Totalitarianism”: “Total loyalty is possible only when fidelity is emptied of all concrete content, from which changes of mind might naturally arise. The totalitarian movements, each in its own way, have done their utmost to get rid of the party programs which specified concrete content and which they inherited from earlier, non‑totalitarian stages of development.”

It seems like another time in another galaxy, but not that long ago there actually was some ideological diversity within the Republican Party.

In 1966, Time ran a cover story highlighting the winners of the 1966 midterm elections as a “Republican Resurgence,” after the Goldwater defeat of 1964. Time’s editors selected six Republicans as being emblematic of this rebirth: California Gov. Ronald Reagan, Michigan Gov. George Romney, Illinois Sen. Charles Percy, Oregon Sen. Mark Hatfield, Massachusetts Sen. Edward Brooke and New York Gov. Nelson Rockefeller.

The six governors and senators had differences of opinion on almost all major issues. Hatfield, deeply influenced by his service in World War II, never voted for a bill to authorize U.S. military engagement. He was one of only two Republican senators who voted against the 1991 Gulf War.

With Sen. George McGovern, Hatfield co-sponsored 1971 legislation calling for a complete withdrawal from Vietnam. Reagan, on the other hand, was consistently supportive of the Vietnam War and campaigned against the creation of Medicaid.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, the Republican governors who were pro-choice governed states with a larger collective population than the Republican antiabortion governors. Bill Weld of Massachusetts, Pennsylvania’s Tom Ridge, Arnold Schwarzenegger in California and New York’s George Pataki all were proudly pro-choice.

Today, there are no Republican governors who support abortion rights, and many are actively working to criminalize abortions in their states. The Republican Party three decades ago was overwhelmingly a white-dominated party, but it allowed for at least some dissent and disagreement.

While it is difficult to attribute any deliberate or methodical plan to Donald Trump, whose mind operates like an old-fashioned pinball machine on tilt, his basic antidemocratic, strongman instincts have crushed dissent in the Republican Party, empowering the underlying authoritarian impulses within the party. A once-center-right political party with core ideological principles is now marching toward the formation of an autocratic state.

It’s possible that Trump will not be the Republican nominee in 2024, but his success in molding the party to his image ensures that anyone who wins will continue down an authoritarian path.

When Ron DeSantis ran for governor of Florida in 2018, he aired a commercial showing his toddler daughter building a border wall with toy blocks, followed by a shot of him holding his infant son and reading from a book, “Then Mr. Trump said, ‘You’re fired.’” His wife also appeared in the ad, saying, “People say Ron is all Trump, but he is so much more.”

What’s unfolding in the Republican Party is an inevitable step in the cycle of authoritarian movements. What once was deemed sufficiently pure is judged to be inadequate and in need of purging.

The Night of the Long Knives, the murder of Leon Trotsky, the Red Guards, the Khmer Rouge — each was the result of a radical movement further purifying its core membership and ideology, and something very similar is taking place among today’s Republicans.

When Trump emerged in 2015, he was initially rejected by Republican voters. In May 2015, Donald Trump polled at 3% among Republicans and Republican-leaning independent voters. While it’s not unusual for a new and still-unknown candidate to start with a low number, Trump had almost a 100% name recognition among potential voters.

Republicans knew who he was; they just didn’t like him. A May 2015 Washington Post–ABC News poll found that just over 20% of Republicans viewed Trump favorably. By early December 2015 — and after his attack on John McCain’s war record, his mocking of a disabled reporter and his calling for a Muslim ban — Trump had surged to his largest lead during the Republican primary, opening up a 35%-to-16% margin over Ted Cruz.

Jeb Bush, who led the field in early polling, was by then at the same 3% level of support that Trump had in May. The media coverage of Trump’s rise evidenced an unwillingness to grasp Trump’s appeal. “Donald Trump Leads Florida Polls, Despite Call for Muslim Travel Ban” was the headline in the New Times Broward–Palm Beach. “Trump Poll Surge Continues Despite Backlash Over Muslim Ban,” trumpeted the Dec. 10, 2015, broadcast of Voice of America News.

This was like reporting that Jim Beam sold a lot of bourbon even though it contained alcohol. Trump was rising with Republican voters because of his racism and religious bigotry.

There was no backlash with the majority of Republican primary voters. The exact opposite was occurring. Trump’s hate was creating a surge of appeal.

Donald Trump understood the true nature of the Republican Party better than the party’s leaders. “This suggestion is completely and totally inconsistent with American values,” then-Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said as he denounced Trump’s proposed Muslim ban. “I do not think it is reflective of our principles, not just as a party but as a country,” then-House Speaker Paul Ryan said of the ban.

But it was his call for a Muslim ban that helped Trump clinch the 2016 nomination. McConnell and Ryan and the establishment donor class of the Republican Party would never admit publicly that the xenophobia and racism that appealed to Trump voters were far more motivating to Republican voters than the small-government, low-taxes, constitutionally conservative so‑called “values” they insisted were the true core of the party.

But their commitment to their deeply held beliefs was so weak that they now supported a man who bragged he was “the king of debt,” refused to release his tax returns to show he even paid taxes and whose Muslim ban was a religious test that was anathema to constitutional principles.

They didn’t care about anything but remaining in power, and they thought they could use Trump while controlling him.

There is a childlike need for many Republicans in what was once “the establishment” to believe that the Trump years were some aberration, that the party was “hijacked” by Donald Trump. The problem with this is that the passengers on the hijacked plane do not cheer for the terrorist. But in the Republican Party, the hijacker is the most popular person on the plane.

Trump and Trumpism dominate the Republican Party because he represents what the Republican Party wants to be. There is no “normal” for the party to return to. It is an autocratic movement, not a traditional American political party. To believe this movement cannot win and end democracy as we know it would be as dangerously naive as thinking that the Donald Trump who announced his candidacy in 2015 with 3% of support within the party could never be elected president.

None of us can choose history, but history can choose us. The fate of the American experiment is in our hands. America or Trump? The next 13 months will decide our future.

Stuart Stevens is an advisor to the Lincoln Project, a political consultant and the author of several books. This article is an adapted excerpt from his latest book, “The Conspiracy to End America: Five Ways My Old Party Is Driving Our Democracy to Autocracy,” which will be published Oct. 10.

[sushisempai]

ACOTAR Head canons and short fic/fluff prompts I would love to see. I've been messaging with my bff about this stuff for weeks and finally am just going for it. Feel free to steal but please tag me so I can read them!!

Feysand

I want to see that one menstrual cycle they had after they started trying to get pregnant because we know it was about 9 months between ACOFAS and ACOSF and I love that Rhys had already worked out permission to be a mother hen but now there was even more pressure on it.

I would love to see more of the stuff we didn't get to see about the pregnancy because we (the readers) were with Nesta, the baby kicking, Feyre being emotional. You know Nuala and Cerridwen knew before anyone else. Did they dote? Were they sneaking her treats? What was the story with Rhys's old sweater? How did the conversation with Elain go when she figures it out?

I really want to see more of the art studio and what it was like while she was pregnant. Did the kids say things? Ask to paint her belly? What was all that like with Ressina? Does Ressina become friends with Rhys? Does Feyre go back to teaching with her baby strapped to her chest? Does Ressina help with Nyx? Do the kids? Do the families of the kids start to get comfortable around Rhys?

I feel like it’s basically canon that Rhys is bi. My Mom is bi and she likes to point out girls with nice racks to my dad just to make him, and their daughters tbh, uncomfortable but he does it back. Family inside joke lol. I totally picture this for Feysand. As Rhys is like always trying to get another male in their bed, I also can see Feyre turning this on him like “He’s nice, what about him?”

Nessian

Cassian would want all the kids and be like a *devoted* dad and despite her attitude I think Nesta would be an awesome mom. Cassian wants a huge family but Nesta will put a limit on it, so like that conversation in itself would be fun to see. I'm also thinking about how long lived they are, so Cassian will be like, "if there aren't at least 3 at a time it won't be enough chaos." Besides you know the house will be in on it. Forget childproofing.

Use this or don’t but basically my head canon is, I decided that Cassian and Nesta have the same spread of kids as the Carpenters in Dresden files. Oldest to youngest girl, boy, boy, girl, girl, girl, boy. I like this spread for them because I just love the idea of them having a big family.

Nessian Family stuff that is extra and emotional

I could also see Cassian just bringing home orphans, once they're established, like he hasn't felt competent to do so before but once he and Nesta are established he would be like "What's one more? Especially if you don't have to carry it!" "He's ready potty trained and the house will help!"

Up until now we haven't heard anything about the women who come to the library having kids. What if that is something Nesta and Cassian change?

If it helps you understand why this Nessian part went off the rails, I do trauma work with kids and teens and that has included a fair number of foster kids. So I think at a certain point this head canon got personal for me, so keep that in mind if you are like “Why does this crazy lady have so many specifics about bringing home kids.” But we also see how freaking relevent this is the Az and Cass! So I really feel this head canon.

I can completely picture Valkery training with adopted and traumatized teens, a baby strapped to Nesta's front as she teaches, a toddler on Cassian's shoulder as he teaches, Emorie tossing a kid to work her arms. Feyre and Nyx even joining sometimes.

Kids in general

I know a lot of people like the idea of Az as a Dad and I could get behind that (so please don’t blast me I enjoy those fics too!) But I can see Az being totally fine without kids. I can see him really enjoying hanging out with the madness of Cassian and Nesta's brood, or hanging with Rhys and Feyre and Nyx, and then enjoying some peace and quiet as well. Not everyone wants kids and there is no reason why he wouldn’t be an awesome and devoted uncle. I would love seeing his special relationships with all the kids.

At what age are the kids old enough to participate in the snowball fight and how does that work? I can’t imagine them telling the kids “no girls.” That is maddness. Not from our fae feminist bat boys! But especially if they all had different numbers of kids or Az didn’t have his own they would want to split everyone up and be fair! Though Az is of course super competative. I could see him calling dibs on older adopted kids or sweet talking some of Cassiens boys. He would sweet talk all the kids into being on his team, except Nyx who'd be stupid loyal. And I'm just gonna go with Cassian's daughters in specific would be always on his team because I love the idea of Cass having like 4 daddy’s girls.

Crackship Elain/Ruhn (hear me out) Cresent City crossover

There are a lot of possible ships out there that go against established mating bonds and it has been established that there is now ownership or inherent “right” to a person just because of the bond. Right?

Ok, if we're gonna undo mating bonds to troll the fandom, and the books are crossing over anyways, then my ideal crackship would be Ruhn and Elain. Have Elain come over to Cresent City to get a break from the maddness at home only to find new and different maddness!

It would be all of the precious cinnamon roll anyone can handle it any given time. They would take care of eachother, dote on eachother.

She would look at all of his tattoos and scars and talk about how beautiful they were. And he would just tell her over and over again how sexy she is without making her self conscious or objectified.

Right now she's like a toy the boys are fighting over. Ruhn would make her feel seen. And she would make him feel whole and special and valid.

Declan and Fynn would also dote on her!

[sillyname30]

I know he’s used to it and that a 5 hour flight isn’t that bad, but Darren flying into DC on the 4th for A Capitol Fourth and then immediately heading back to LA for musical bingo on the 5th sounds like my personal hell.

The fact that he consumes such little caffeine and supposedly sleeps in 90 minutes increments is what gets me. I understand the health benefits and why that works for him, but I am simply not that disciplined.

I couldn't live Darren's life. I couldn't even when I was younger. But it fits his personality. Darren would be really unhappy with my life. He said he thrives on chaos. So I newborn, a toddler, 2 events one day after the other and a flight inbetween is just what he likes.

Darren is really good at taking naps which comes in handy with his life at home now and I guess he takes a nap on the plane.

I vaguely remember the interview about the 90 minutes increments. I don't think he just sleeps 90 minutes at a time. I think he said 90 minutes ist better than 80 or 100 because it's a full sleep circle. He sleeps longer at a time but then it has to be 180 minutes or 360 minutes and so on. The key is not to wake up during a sleep cycle.